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My Writing - Blog Posts
Looks like I’m playing the Kiss Game! @firawren asked for a Kristanna #11 (a kiss to the neck) — I was going to draw but then this idea came to mind (I might still get the pencil out). I hope you like it, teehee.
Icecream, of course
The agitated thrum of cicadas was almost deafening as the heat rose off the path in distorted, shimmering waves. Kristoff ran his hand down the back of his neck to wipe off the sheen of sweat and wiped his hand along his pants leg. The shade from the towering tree above their bench provided little relief.
As always Anna had turned to food to displace her discomfort — icecream, of course. She ran her tongue around the top of the cone and sighed with pleasure as the frozen treat melted in her mouth, soothing her from the inside out.
Maybe it was the heat making Kristoff delirious but suddenly the thick air around him felt ice cold compared to the burning of his cheeks. He gulped down the rest of his icecream to soothe his dry throat but it just didn’t seem enough.
He stole a sideways glance at Anna only to notice that the weather was melting her icecream as quickly as it was thawing his resolve — a stream of creamy chocolate trickled from the corner of her lips and down past her chin into the depths of the neckline of her dress.
With a shriek of surprise Anna was knocked out of her icecream dream as something hot, wet and moving trailed along her collarbone! Kristoff’s golden hair skimmed her bare skin as he chased the drip up her neck, his humid breath tickled her ears and she erupted into a fit of giggles. Suddenly he was laughing too and peppered kisses back down and across her shoulder, attending every freckle.
Anna’s nose wrinkled as she booped his with what was left of her treat and promptly licked it off in one fell swoop.
“Agh!” he scrunched up his eyes and brushed off her saliva with the back of his hand before being hit with a firm kiss to the mouth. His eyes and mouth burst open in bewilderment but before he could lick his lips and return the affection Anna was tugging him by the hand into the hot sunshine.
“C’mon! I want more icecream!”
🩷🍦 🩷 🍦 🩷 🍦 🩷 🍦 🩷 🍦 🩷 🍦 🩷
Please do not use or repost my work without express permission. Frozen (c) Disney
Oooh @firawren, whatever that fic is, I wanna read it!
So I’m either really late, or totally early for this WIP Wednesday tag game! Awkward….
“Banana car!” pointed Anna to a yellow car driving next to them “It’s like Punch Buggy, but fruity!”
From my modern AU Kristanna fanfic A Spoonful of Sugar - coming soon!
Tags for those who might like to join in - @annaofthenorthernlights (don’t@me!), @loonysama , @glassslippers-n-cowboyboots, @pirate-of-the-southern-isles, @true--north et al
WIP Wednesday: Last Line Tag Game
Another week, another tag game! Please share your last sentence; or, if you don’t have one, share a plot bunny or idea! (OR sketch for your artwork!)
I got tagged by @mollywog several weeks ago, but am finally doing this! Thanks for the tag!
Before the Cobb, he'd had blessedly little familiarity with the sensation of regret, but over the last few tortured weeks, he'd felt it often and learned to despise it, the heavy, rotten gnawing of it in his gut.
Tagging @annaofthenorthernlights @sunflowers-and-sandwiches @twisting-echo @prince-adams-japris @bethanydelleman @bad-at-names-and-faces @kikimccloud @girlmercury @soldegira @gravityglitch-blog @belle-eyre27 @edzidolka @glassslippers-n-cowboyboots and of course anyone else who wants to do it!
¿Alguien tiene ideas de historias cortas o mini fanfics? Quiero practicar mi escritura,que llevo casi un año sin escribir nada jaja. (la imagen no es una captura mia ah, pero Chopper es muy bonito jaja)
My Heart and Soul - Dadneto Fic
House of Dadneto prompt: Alternate Universe + Reveal + Disillusionment + Argument
Going back to my roots with a Platonic Soulmate AU, this time for Dadneto in the @house-of-dadneto event! I hope you all enjoy! I'm super excited about this one, and would love to hear what you thought!
✨AO3 LINK✨
Summary:
“What was your name again?” Peter, the boy went to reply, only for “Pietro,” to come tumbling out instead without warning. It caught the speedster off guard so much so that he slipped into superspeed on accident, blinking rapidly as if it would somehow explain his slip up. Only his family called him Pietro, and even then, Wanda was the only one who still called him it on a regular basis. Why would he have told this stranger -this criminal no less- his real name? ~~~ Or, The one thing soulmates can't do is lie to each other, something Peter quickly learns on his unexpected trip to the Pentagon.
Be sure to check out the House of Dadneto event blog if you haven't already!!
Have an awesome day!
-Superherotiger
@sunsetuniverse @lunasquared @callie-caje @lbigreyhound13
BELOVED i am requesting backstory for your FAVORITE dadneto fic you have ever written
AHHH MY BELOVED!! Thank you for giving me a chance to ramble about ✨them✨
But oh boy, picking a favourite story is so hard!! I supposed out of my finished works, ‘The Hardest Part is Leaving You’ would be one of my top picks!
As you know, that fic started as just little chunks of writing which showed how Peter added something to Erik’s house in Genosha every time he visited, but then of course I had to explain why Peter was visiting him which is how I came up with the idea for the government liaison! It was such a blast to write, and then as it kept going I reached a point where I realised there would have to be a reveal otherwise we’d all feel robbed of a happy ending 🤣
I remember those last two scenes (Erik finding out and Peter telling him) being the hardest parts to write. I’d never done a reveal at that point so it was a struggle trying to find the perfect way for it all to come together, and I’m so proud of how it turned out!
And of course, who could forget the iconic pun at the end that gives me life to this day 🤣
But you already knew all that beloved! So instead I’ll ramble a bit about the sequel I never ended up writing for the Genosha fic!
The idea was that it would be a Dark Phoenix fix it of sorts, with Jean’s Phoenix powers going out of control and the X-Men trying to capture her like in the movie. Peter would get severely injured in the fight though and a dismayed Erik would take him to Genosha to recover. The story was heavily focused around Peter’s relationship with Wanda and how much Jean reminded him of his twin, considering they both suffered from powers that were beyond their control. It was also about Erik’s struggle over trying to protect his son, and how he eventually had to forgive Jean and choose to help her despite the anger he felt over Peter’s near death.
In the end, Peter was going to be a key player in bringing Jean back to a stable place along with the other X-Men, and after spending many months with his father, ends up deciding to stay on Genosha permanently. He’d later set up a school in his sister’s name and adopt Mr Dibbles, making Erik a proud grandfather.
Most of the elements of this story have been repurposed for other upcoming fics in the Outsider POV, such as finding Mr Dibbles on Genosha, the Phoenix plot line in a Jean POV, and a reverse of Peter getting drawn to Genosha from a traumatic event in the Fabian POV. So though we will probably never see a sequel to the Genosha fic, the ideas will live on in other ones!!
Thanks for letting me ramble! Love you dearest!! 💛💛💛
-Superherotiger
Send me an ask about the backstory of any of my fics and I’ll ramble!! ✨
talk dirty to me (tell me about your current dadneto wip 🔪 )
Well since you asked so nicely ;)
The WIP I’m supposed to be working on is the second chapter of One Son’s Worth (over 5k already!!) but I got distracted a few days ago by working on a completely self-indulgent drabble set in my dark DOFP timeline! Everybody thank @it-meant-nothing for reigniting my love of this AU haha!
The fic is centred around Erik being extremely touch starved after his 24 year imprisonment while Pietro is completely touch averse from his own life on the run from sentinels and how they navigate that. It’s set very early on in their relationship and follows how that bond develops through trust and understanding, and I just love it SO MUCH it’s not even funny.
There’s something about the tension of Pietro and Erik caring about each other so deeply but being separated by this massive rift in their experiences that makes me feral. Of course Erik fully respects Pietro’s boundaries and refrains from physical affection even though it KILLS him inside, and while Pietro may hate being touched, he grows to love his dad enough to make an exception for Erik.
Here’s a segment from the fic, if you’d like a preview!
Erik started to forget that touch could mean something other than suffering.
And then Pietro came along, shattering not only his cell but his very reality in the process. A hand on his arm. Another curled up in his hair. A touch that didn’t carry pain, but hope, and freedom, and something that felt dangerously close to safety. Erik’s skin tingled long after Pietro had pulled his hands away, and it wasn’t long after that Erik realised how deeply he had missed such gentle contact.
He learnt very quickly, however, that Pietro did not feel the same.
Thanks for allowing me to ramble dearest!!
-Superherotiger
Send me an ask about the backstory of any of my fics and I’ll ramble!! ✨
hm so you'll ramble about the wips that won't even be complete in 5+ years but you won't finish the luna fic? okay worm (I'm a hypocrite)
Me tryna find the third chapter of fault lines like:
You’re on THIN ice bestie, but I’ll never refuse a chance to ramble haha, especially if it’s about the Outsider POV!!
‘It’s A Quiet Starry Place’ is by far my favourite AU from all the dadneto fics I’ve written! It kills me that I haven’t been able to work on it lately because there is just so much to dig into with this concept, especially in regards to Luna! Like where do I even begin?
I knew from the start that Laura and Luna’s dynamic was going to be a core part of this story, and getting to explore the world through their eyes is as fascinating as it is challenging. Logan (the film not the character lol) did such a good job at showing Laura as this highly competent and dangerous mutant but also as an innocent, learning child. It’s an interesting balance, and trying to figure out what they do and don’t understand because of their upbringing is something I have to ask myself almost every moment while writing the fic (which is why it takes so long to write too XD).
And of course, it wouldn’t be one of my fics if dadneto and quickson wasn’t the star of the show! I think Luna’s POV provides one of the most interesting, layered and complex perspectives of Erik and Peter that I’m probably ever going to have to tackle in this AU. Not only does this installment hint to a lot of events that have happened in their past, but Luna’s introduction is one of the most contentious points in their whole relationship. It’s easy to see that Peter accepts her as his own daughter almost immediately, but there’s still so much guilt and shame there for not knowing and not being able to protect her that weighs on him. And when all Peter needs is support, Erik is too busy struggling with his own thoughts, because how could the humans have gotten their hands on their son’s DNA? How could a violation like that have happened without any of them knowing? Erik’s protectiveness over Peter blinds him to realising that Peter has willingly taken on the role as a father himself, and in response, Peter’s protectiveness over Luna bites back, putting them at odds. It’s such an interesting dynamic, and it’s the plotline I’m most looking forward to writing in the coming chapters (because they are coming, I promise- I PROMISE OKAY?!?!)!
Some other elements that I love to think about but don’t always get to touch on because it’s from Luna’s POV is how the other X-Men and Brotherhood members are feeling over having clone children, most of which died before even knowing they existed. Some are quick to consider them their child, like Avalanche and Jean, who clearly took it hard learning that their respective kids had died without ever getting to meet them. Others have more complicated feelings about it, like Sabretooth and Gambit, which we’ll get a glimpse of in the next chapter. Sabretooth especially is interesting I think, because given the chance, I think he would have tried to be a decent father, if only to say he was better at it than Logan hah. Since he never had that opportunity though, he finds it easier to pretend he never cared about his kid instead of admitting that he might be mad at himself for not saving them in time.
If any of you are wondering how much I’ve thought about this AU, there’s a 12 page document dedicated just to the timeline, and I also have a list of all 23 children in the X23 program and who they belonged to lol. So yes, this AU lives in my head rent free and refuses to get evicted hahah!
Thanks for letting me ramble about this AU on top of all the other times I’ve rotted to you about it bestie, I love you!
-Superherotiger
Send me an ask about the backstory of any of my fics and I’ll ramble!! ✨
OMG it so GOOD!!!!!!!!!!
Chapter seven is up!
Cold Vermillion
I wear my somber
as a deep cloak
deep Prussian
guards my loneliness
I can´t drag myself
through no man´s land
the snow is too deep
my face is too blue
And my wild mantle
bites me whole
heavy thoughts
float celeste
Tired vermillion
burns away
too cold
too down
Welcome In!
Hey everyone! Thanks for stopping by my little corner of the internet. My name's Blue. Here, you can find all my writing in one place, as well as my rules for requests. I hope you enjoy your stay!
FYI: This blog is 18+. If you do not have your age in your bio, I will block you.
Rules:
This blog is my safe space, and by extension, I want it to be other people's safe space, too. I will not tolerate any sort of hateful messaging or discriminatory language. If you have critiques of my writing, I always love feedback, but remember that I'm human too, so please be kind to me and others. I'm down for a healthy debate on any fandom topic, and I love hearing other people's opinions about characters or plot elements. Let's just keep it civil!
I'm currently writing for just BG3, but that may change in the future.
Requests: Currently open
Character List:
Astarion
Gale
Wyll
Lae'zel
Karlach
Shadowheart
Raphael/Haarlep
Rolan
Zevlor
Gortash
Halsin
Minthara
What I will write:
Character x Reader
Fluff
Angst (but expect happy endings lol, my heart can't take unresolved conflict)
Smut (see list of kinks below)
Canon compliant
Non-canon compliant
What I will not write:
Dubcon/Noncon/Incest etc.
Any smut involving body fluids that aren't usually present during sex
Roleplay (unless the request interests me)
Character x Character
I'm open to writing about character death, but nothing involving death of major characters
Kinks I'm cool with writing (including but not limited to):
Bondage
Breeding
Spitting
Consensual hitting/spanking etc.
Voyeurism
Dom/sub situations
I'll write situations involving suspected cheating, but nothing involving actual cheating
Just like the Bill of Rights, just because it's not listed above, does not mean something isn't included. If you have questions about what I will/won't write, just ask!
Masterlist
Astarion
Break of Dawn
Ongoing longfic following the adventures and really complicated feelings of a Lathanderian tiefling cleric and Astarion refusing to admit they're in love
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
My Book's on Amazon
Janice Lance: Monday Blues By Monet Mouling: Amazon.com: Janice Lance: Monday Blues: 9798335277259: Mouling, Monét: Books
SOOO... I feel like I'm an awful writer
Well, I'm not really sure where to start this. I'm a teenager. And I wrote a book. I'm getting it published soon. And I have an awful feeling that it's nothing but garbage. I did the best I could, I reviewed it a hundred times, I've rewritten and thought about stuff over and over again, but I still feel like it's no good. Without giving any spoilers, it's a slice of life book about 14-year-old girl in the eighth grade, with 6 out of 12 chapters taking place in school. Her and her parents have moved out of their old neighborhood 7 months before the book starts.
I want to make this a trilogy. I technically started this book series in 4th or 5th Grade, and I made a lot of google slides and I didn't really get better until a few months ago, when my dad got me a publisher through one of his former coworkers.
I really haven't wanted to admit it, but I'm pretty nervous about what the reception will be like. I feel like I'm just gonna get torn apart by critics, reviewers, and everyday book lovers across the nation or something.
Okay, this actually made me feel better. I hope anyone reading this has a good day/night!
Hello, I hope you are well🌹
I am Hazem Mahmoud Hamada, 44 years old, a Palestinian man, from Gaza. I am seeking to save my family of 6 members from the hell of war by moving to a safe place until the ugly war ends.Our suffering began on October 14, 2023, when my family was forcibly displaced from north to south in a life- threatening situation. As a result, our homes were completely destroyed and demolished, and thus our business went to waste. There was nothing left as a source of livelihood. There are no shelters to shelter us or a source of livelihood to live on.
Your support is our only hope for survival after losing everything.
We hope you will continue to support us by donating or sharing to help save and rebuild our lives. Every contribution is important and greatly appreciated
Our campaign is verified by Gaza Vetters
https://gofund.me/31a01e1c
🚨🚨🚨!!!!!
Hyper fixating is all fun and games when you're working on a project or cleaning your house or consuming media or completing a task.
but have you ever hyper fixated on a person? You ever thought about someone night and day. Daydreamed about them. Had conversations in your head with them. Let them consume your every moment until they were the first thing you thought of in the morning and the last thing you thought of at night?
This isn't a cheesy love song this is real life and that shit will make you sick. Make you forget yourself. Make you change yourself. Make you neglect yourself.
They're never gonna be like the version you've cooked up in your head and you deserve to move on.
There was a little girl. Maybe she was in me; maybe she was me.
But she talked too loud and she hurt and she cried and I didn't know how to make her stop.
So I slapped a hand over her mouth and held it there until she stopped struggling. Until it was quiet.
Maybe it was hate; maybe it was fear. I'm not sure why I did it and I don't know if she's still here.
Sometimes I feel echoes in memories of the person I used to be. The kind that feel like hope and pain and the unknown.
The me that cared so much I couldn't stand it. The feelings clawed at my throat and snubbed hot cigarettes in my eyes.
The emotions that set my limbs to restless and my heart racing until I was so exhausted i'd drop.
The me that was vulnerable. I killed her so I could be stronger, so I could be safe.
I feel distantly that I should mourn her but I can't think of a single thing about her to miss.
Maybe I'm not supposed to find myself in the past. Maybe I'm not going to achieve some mythical closure by carrying this sad corpse around with me. Maybe the best thing I can do is put her to rest an move on.
After all, you can't bring back the dead and I think that applies to yourself most of all.
Sometimes I catch myself not breathing.
No air filtering in through my lungs.
My brain fuzzy and slow without it.
My chest still and my shoulders hunched.
Like some subtle subconscious part of me just decided this was it.
Time to give up.
I can only scream my feelings through the open window of a moving car
When the wind steals the words from my lips and smothers them before they can be heard
Not pictured: all the many nights my brain wakes me up at 3 AM or 5 AM with ideas that CANNOT wait and I MUST write them immediately
Writers on a random Tuesday: Sits down, locks in, giggles, writes 10k, does not sleep
Also writers on a random Tuesday: writes one sentence and then stares into the abyss for five fours
DP x DC prompt:
A youtube channel called Spooky Gotham, secretly run by Danny as a fun little hobby.
The channel heavily features cutesy sheet ghosts and cartoon bats in the thumbnails, but the videos themselves display how fucking unnerving a city like Gotham is.
The most viewed video is recorded on a smartphone, and is about eighteen minutes long. It shows an utterly abandoned downtown city street, completely silent except for the distant sound of sirens, a slight wind buffeting the phone's mic, and an automated voice repeating that the city is under total lockdown due to an Arkham breakout.
It's unclear if the video takes place at night, or if it's just that dark downtown due to the abundance of skyscrapers and smog. Most of the street lamps are out, but some illuminate empty cars with their doors still open, shopping bags full of crushed purchases left behind by their owners, and the occasional abandoned shoe.
There are bullet casings in the gutters, and the person recording the video pauses long enough to focus on a batarang partially embedded in a brick wall, suggesting a violent conflict ended not too long before the start of the video. Despite this, there is very little actual damage to the street or store fronts.
Despite the low level of other sounds in the video, and that the person recording is walking through a street full of clutter, there are no footsteps heard the entire time. It ends with a muffled "Oh shit," and the camera focusing on the distant shape of a figure in black and red emerging from the mouth of an alleyway.
Other videos are shorter.
Two minutes of footage in a dark alley, the focus a pair of featureless white eyes peering down at the camera, as though from atop a wall.
Five minutes of indistinct shapes moving through a glowing green mist, overlaid with the sound of a gas mask hissing.
Nine minutes of the person holding the camera surrounded by a crush of people, everyone moving hurriedly but wordlessly in the same direction, and an automated voice blaring directions in the background. It is interrupted by the occasional dull thund of distant exposions.
Four minutes of what looks to be the back of a green woman with red hair screaming wordlessly at someone off camera, roots and vines lashing at the surrounding buildings, and then suddenly dropping to the ground.
Twenty two seconds of the camera panning over the city from high above, fires silently raging in the streets, with a text overlay reading "Audio removed due to sensitive content."
Behind the scenes, Danny is rather proud of catching these moments on film! He has a lot more of the local vigilantes confronting him for entering dangerous areas, goons shooting at him, and shocked supervillains, but most of those aren't really "spooky," more "humiliating for getting spotted again." His biggest viewers are his friends and family back in Amity, and he really doesn't need to give them the idea that he's getting into trouble with the locals.
The rest of his viewers are other "horror" youtubers looking for inspiration, urbex enthusiasts, and what he suspects are the private accounts of the Bats.
He knows at least one of his viewers is Jonathan "The Scarecrow" Crane. The guy isn't subtle, and swings wildly between berating Danny for his silly aesthetic choices (the aforementioned sheet ghosts and cartoon bats), and praising him for the cognitive dissonance it causes. Talk about mixed messages...
Adjustments
Summary: Yomiel has a few issues about the last timeline. He gets told off by his cat.
Made for @altairattorney at @fyeahghosttrick‘s Ghost Swap exchange
The first time Yomiel saw Sissel - the cat, that is - in the new future, was when he was invited to dinner at the Jowd household. Honestly? It wasn't the most enjoyable experience he'd ever had.
He didn't really enjoy socialising at the best of times and here, in the midst of this happy family he'd so furiously destroyed, it was definitely not the best of times.
Their happiness was suffocating and painful. Their willingness to befriend him, even more so.
He gazed out of the window, trying unsuccessfully to appear completely absorbed in the gently falling snow. Maybe if he looked distracted enough, no-one would try to talk to him? And that was when he saw the kitten.
He was confused at first. He was aware that Sissel had gone home with Jowd, of course he was, but this cat was much too young. Maybe they were a descendant... but then why the achingly familiar red bandanna? The kitten appeared to sense his confusion, and leapt delicately from his perch atop the mantelpiece, crossing the room to leap onto the lap of the startled Yomiel.
And then proceeded to drag him into his worst nightmare.
The second the familiar vortex of the Ghost World flashed into view, he panicked.
No... Not this, not again!
"Calm down, Yomiel." The faintly amused purr at once reassured and horrified him.
"S-Sissel? But how..." His mind was reeling, events of that day replaying at a lightning rate. The shard. The deflection. A kitten hidden in the grass. Yet another cruel twist of fate.
"I'm so sorry, Sissel."
The moon gaze was soft. "Don't worry about it. I'm fine with this, really."
They lapsed into a short silence, stunned on Yomiel's part and calmly companionable on Sissel's. After a while the cat decided enough time had passed for his previous owner to come to terms with the new situation, and began talking.
"I couldn't help noticing that you don't look too cheerful."
Yomiel cringed slightly. "Was it really that obvious? Never mind, I know it was. I just... why are they being so damn nice to me?"
"They're nice people."
"That's not - I - they should hate me!" It bursts out of him, staining the air with his confusion. "But they don't. They don't know the truth."
Kamila was probably the worst. It would've been Alma, but he didn't talk to her much, although Sissel (the human, that is) did.
Cabanela... Well, he was never really going to get on with Cabanela, but the guy tried. The guilt he seemed to feel over the "interrogation incident" didn't lift Yomiel's spirits as much as it once might've done, in fact, it made him a little uncomfortable. If Cabanela knew what he had done... Yomiel doubted he'd make much of an effort to get along.
Jowd was, if possible, more of a mystery, but every time he caught his eye the sympathy there was discomforting. "I know what it's like", that look said. "These memories are a burden to us both."
And they would've been bad enough, but Kamila... she was so sincere, so heartbreakingly innocent. Every time he saw her, he couldn't help but realise all over again that in the last timeline he hadn't seen her. Not at all. Not really. She was just another weapon to use against the people who had killed him - or the people who he'd convinced himself had killed him.
"Even Lynne - I almost killed her, even in this new future." He gave the cat a searching look. "And it's like she's completely forgiven me. She put it behind her... so why can't I?" He kept telling himself that this was better. This was the best ending, the ending he'd never allowed himself to even dream of. So why couldn't he just be happy?
Sissel's inscrutable spirit somehow managed to emit an aura of disapproval.
"Yomiel." He began, then paused. "You do know that no-one can be happy all the time, don't you?"
Neither spoke for a few seconds.
"I... I... Of course I do! That's not the point!"
"Then what is the point?"
"How can I be happy when... when I did so many terrible things?"
Sissel padded closer and sat directly before him, refusing to let Yomiel avoid his stare. "Not this time round."
"So what? I still remember it!" From behind the protection of his sunglasses, his eyes burned.
"Alma doesn't remember it."
The flinch as Sissel said her name was clearly visible.
"Cabanela doesn't remember it, Lynne doesn't, Kamila doesn't."
Yomiel met his gaze. "Jowd does."
"Jowd understands. {I think. I still don't understand him.}"
He almost laughed. So even after all these years, Sissel still couldn't hide his thoughts in the Ghost World.
"But even if he didn't remember, I do. I know what I can do, what I can feel... And it scares me, Sissel, it really does." All the energy seemed to drain from him, shoulders slumping.
"Yomiel..."
"That I'm capable of such awful things... and I can remember it all, so I don't get to say that it wasn't me, or that I don't understand how I could do those things. I do." He looked down. "That's the problem."
"But that was because of Temsik! You're different now!"
"No. I'm just in a different situation."
"No! You're wrong! {Argh, why can't he see?}" he almost snarled, tail lashing from side to side and eyes narrowed. Sissel had had enough.
Yomiel jolted back in surprise.
"You have changed. You are not the person I saw in the junkyard who found joy in another's pain. You care! You feel guilt about what you did, and you never want it to happen again. Maybe you can't make up for it, but that feeling is enough to build on."
Oh. Was it really that simple? Could that really be it? Was this worrying really unnecessary?
But... "...what about you?"
"Me?"
"You. Because you saved me, you've been condemned to a living hell. A fate I wouldn't wish on anyone. How can you possibly forgive me?"
Sissel's eyes shone like hope. "Easily. I know this is hard for you to believe, but I really am ok with this. I'm a cat, Yomiel. And the truth is, in the end... I had so much less to lose than you did."
A naive, weary anger at the unfairness of the world sank into Yomiel's bones.
"You deserved to live."
"So did you. And fine, I can't promise I'll be happy like this forever, but I am for now, and to me? That's all that matters."
The silence returned, this time comfortable for both. Eventually, Yomiel gave one of his strangely sincere smirks.
"Well then. I suppose if you can live with it... I can, too."
Returning to the real world, he scratched the cat behind the ears. "When did you get so wise, huh?"
Sissel raised a metaphorical eyebrow. "Wise, eh? Just because I don't bother with those stupid social niceties you humans care about so much and speak my mind." His purr could be heard through the whole house.
"Excuse me, Mister Yomiel?" Kamila tugged gently at his sleeve.
"Huh?" Yomiel glanced around in confusion.
"Are you ok? You looked upset before..."
"Oh, don't worry. I was just thinking."
"Oh. Well, would you like to see all the tricks Missile can do? He's really smart, Lynne showed me!"
"I... yeah. I would like that, Kamila. Thanks."
the biggest tragedy of my life is that I once wrote a character that was genuinely incredibly detailed and complex, every action she did made sense for her character, nothing ooc, she had a well developed character arc where she overcame her personal issues and hangups and grew into a more healthy person, she had complex relationships with those around her, again for reasons that make sense with her character, even had a direct foil that she had such a tragically complicated relationship with, it was full of symbolism and motifs that worked with the overarching story and with many characters; she is my proudest accomplishment across all my writing and I think about her at least twice a day
what's so tragic about all this, you ask?
it was a my hero academia oc
Hello new followers!
I feel the need to mention that I am also working on a oneshot for this au. It does tie into the main story! This oneshot happens well after the comic I just posted.
Tensions have eased between them slightly. The Lamb is not angry with Narinder anymore and Narinder is still an emotionally constipated asshole. So they’re making some slight progress.
I won’t give too much context for these little snippets because I enjoy surprising my readers. :)
Enjoy what crumbs I sprinkle as I continue to slowly chip away at this lol
hi.
Look at this art I made! They're from my dream.
The blond is Monte Bertie Rowntree and the brunet is Thierry Augustin De La Fontaine.
Thierry is the owner of the Golden Goose Casino and Monte is his lefthand (now right) man, but he's also the dealer (so he deals with VIP clients and possible cheaters).
I wrote their story here!
Or the wattpad version:
Made a horrible poem (because it isn't a poem more of a thing i wrote) about love. Here it is:
Love is a smile that lasts all day long
Because with the simple thought of you
I remember joy and warmth
Love is remembering your favorite food, flower, and color
And smiling when i see them
Because now i find you in everything
Sometimes when you laugh
I see all the other times
And i think about how much warmth and happiness
A simple sound can bring me
Sometimes days aren't simple
Sometimes we cry
But it's times like those
That make your smile afterwards
The brightest
And when i can't remember
how to smile
You remind me
If i've forgotten to eat
or take a break
You fill my heart
And when you hold my hand
And my heart
Close to yours
I feel like home
This is love
But mostly
This is you
Sometimes my writing's bad, sometimes it's good. But sometimes, IT MAKES ME FEEL LIKE A GOD.
I was reviewing my writing and I found this gem(??) And I can't believe I of all people wrote it. Like damb, i'm quezy about it and i'm not even in the story. Here it is, btw, with a bit of editing to make the characters anonymous:
(Character A) remained quiet after that, afraid of another terrible stumble. They were a disastrous person and never could go without a stupid, clumsy act. (Character B) observed the mortal named (Character a). Trying to figure out (Character A)'s motives and weaknesses. They never looked at (Character B) until (Character B) suddenly grabbed (Character A)'s face.
"Interesting." (Character B)'s dead-set observant stare into (Character A)'s eyes had them anxious.
"What?"
"Your eyes are the color of the sky. I haven't seen the sun-filled sky for a long time." Amazement, wonder, nostalgia, and so many other emotions flowed into and out of (Character B).
"Oh, do you miss it?" (Character A) relaxed into (Character B)'s hold. Gazing back into (Character B)'s maroon eyes.
"Dearly."
Like FELLO????? Which romantic literature god/goddess possessed me??? If only I could write like this when I really needed to, like school 😭 and even better they have their own versions so it gets more romantic!
Me, going over some older chapters that I’ve already posted: oh man, I did a great job with this OC! I really like them! What was I going to do with this character again?
Also me, remembering that I’m going to kill them: oh yeah
@bywonki I'm sorry babes! I promise, I'll write fluff for him some time!
Resplendent
word count: 1220
Pairing: Neteyam Sully x Female! Metkayina! Na'vi Reader Tags/warnings: Fluff, angst, bittersweet, established relationship, adult reader, adult Neteyam, no smut Summary: Neteyam quietly watches you from the shore as you perform a ritual dance in the water, to the utter delight of your daughters.
Author's Note: Set some time after the big battle. Also moved those events further ahead. You and Neteyam are mated and have children before the RDA attacks the reef. Got inspired by the song~
Sa’nu - mum, mommy Tahni - bioluminescent freckle
Close your eyes.
Deep breathes.
Remember the moves.
Remember the words...
Your heart thrums in your chest almost painfully. You take a deep, slow, calming breath; placing a hand over your heart.
“Sa’nu? Are you okay?”
You open your eyes, looking down to meet the gaze of your youngest daughter. The cool water of the sea comes up to her neck. Sweet thing. You told her, she and her sister could watch you from the shoreline. But they were persistent to be as close to you as possible. The water barely reaches your hips.
You offer a soft smile, reaching down and affectionately stroking her hair.
“I’m okay…Don’t worry my little star. Mommy’s just nervous.” The 5-year-old beams up at you with a toothy grin. Your 6-year-old beside her pats you on the arm.
“You practiced aaaaall the time! You got this.” She offers you her own encouraging smile. You give her an appreciative nod before facing the shoreline once more. You return your face to neutrality, closing your eyes once again.
You hear the disturbance of the water as your daughters move a bit to the side to give you more space to move.
With one final calming breath, you open your mouth and begin the song cord of your family.
---
Neteyam stands under the shade of a nearby tree on the shoreline. His arms are crossed as he watches the three of you.
The evening breeze carries your voice to him. He stands up straight when the sound hits his ears.
When you sing, it reminds him of the melody of birdsong in spring. No matter how many years may pass between you two, every time he hears you play the instrument of your heart, he feels like he could fall in love with you all over again.
He takes in your form as you start swaying in the water, admiring you from top to bottom.
Your hair, thick and long, reaching all the way down to your knees; you and your sisters spent what must have been hours, braiding it into the intricate patterns now adorning your head.
Even from this distance, he can still make out the faint markings of the tattoos framing your face. Though today you also have a thin line of white painting the centre of your face. You could have mud smeared all over and he would still find you to be the most beautiful woman; you have him convinced you are blessed by Eywa herself.
You arms move slow and with purpose through the air; attuned with the words as they fall from your lips.
Your soft lips.
How he wishes he could kiss you right now.
You dip down, submerging your arms into the water. In one fluid motion, you rise back up to your feet, the motion you perform with your hands and arms bring water up with you as you rose. Your arms are stretched out to your sides as you pirouette.
Neteyam’s heart skips a beat as he watches you, and it’s as if time itself slows, just so he can drink in the beauty of your very being.
With your back to eclipse, your front is cast in shadow.
The water falls around you in a shimmering curtain of rain. The last light of eclipse hits the smooth stones woven into the fabric on your chest; causing a cascade of colours to dance across your skin. And when the sun disappears, your tahni come to life like the brilliance of dawn.
It’s one of his most favourite parts of your body. Though you had the scattered stars as did all Na’vi, for reasons he attests only to being blessed by Eywa, you have thin bioluminescent swirls weaving itself around your arms, chest, and all down your legs. To him it’s like a faint galaxy glittering in the night.
He recalls fondly the memory of him knowing each and every star on your body intimately.
And in the fading light of the day do you shine before him. Resplendent as you are in the day, so too will you dazzle the world around you in the darkness of the approaching night.
His heart throbs something fierce when you open your eyes after dipping into the water once more. Even behind the curtain of water, or the netting of the fabric draped over your head, your eyes glow with a fierceness he knows all to well. It pierces his very soul, a warmth sweeping over him.
He drinks you in more as you bend your form this way and that. He wishes he knew the intricacies of your dance; understood what each fluid motion meant, the significance of each swish of your tail, or the ways you angle your hands and bend your fingers.
You close your eyes as you near the end of the cord song.
As you perform another twirl, you playfully swat the water with your thick tail, splashing your daughters.
Their uncontrollable gigging brings a smile to your face. You open your eyes as you continue to dance, giving them a loving look. They’re splashing each other with reckless abandon as they try to imitate your moves. You can’t help the unrestrained laughter their antics bring you.
Neteyam laughs quietly to himself as he watches his girls playfully flay about in the water. Every day since their birth he’s given thanks to both you and the Great Mother for blessing him with such miracles. He hadn’t thought it was possible to love something as much as he loved you.
He feels a stray tear fall down his cheek. But he doesn’t move to wipe it away. Instead he continues to smile as he watches your song and dance coming to its conclusion.
You turn to face the horizon, and he’s gaze drifts to his girls.
They’re singing something he can’t quite make out, but he loves the sound nonetheless.
And when their eyes meet his, finally noticing his presence, they wave at him wildly, giggling all over again.
His smile grows wider, and he offers them a small wave back.
---
One final pose, and you hold the final note of your song, eyes still closed. You hold that note until your lungs and throat burn.
You hear the excited cheers of your daughters as they shower you with praise. Your breathing is laboured as your heart pounds in your chest, but you offer them a bow and a small smile of gratitude.
You turn yourself to the horizon before you finally open your eyes. The ritual dance has come to and end.
You rub the cool ocean water on your cheeks, in your neck, and down your arms; all in an effort to cool you down from your laborious activity. You breath deep in from the nose, and slowly exhale through your mouth, calming your rapid heartbeat.
The girls still giggle beside you, resuming their unrefined dancing; now also singing their favourite lullaby in lieu of a songcord.
Sufficiently cooled off, you turn your head to your daughters to admire them in their silliness.
Your brow nits in slight confusion though, when you see them waving at something behind you, giggling all the while.
You turn around, curiosity in your eyes.
But the shoreline is just as empty as when you arrived.
---
Author's Notes: It was a private funeral dance 😢
Giving Thanks for 500+!
Holy shit I've made it to 500! Thank you to all my followers and moots! I wouldn't be here without you. I appreciate every like, reply, and reblog you so graciously send my way; truly words cannot express my gratitude in its entirety!
I would also like to give a big thank you and shout out to the following people:
@mechformers, @milknhonies, @villiansimpqueen, @loaksbitch, @starkay, @tarrynightss, @kurogxrix
You are all such amazing writers, and reading your works inspired me to take the leap and write my own! Thank you, truly, for the amazing work each and every one of you puts out. I send you much love! I hope one day you perhaps take the time to read some of my own works. Your opinions would mean the world to me! <3 I hope you guys keep continuing to bless this fandom with your presence; I am humbled in your glory.
I also want to give special thanks to the familiar faces of (sorry if I miss anyone!):
@rsclopez, @manymaria111, @olivia-the-weirdo, @sarcasticrandy, @royallaufeyson, @essenceinpink, @totesnothere04, @mechformers❤️, @angel-of-silver369, @the-hufflebird-girl, @villirios
Thank you so much to you guys! It brings a smile to my face every time I see any kind of interaction to a post from you guys!!! ❤️❤️❤️
SO! I was supposed to draw this pic in celebration of 500, but uhhhh I got distracted writing and getting sick and working lmao. Anyway please enjoy the rough sketch then!
This is Recom Miles being confronted by my version of Eywa from Lie of Providence.
Red Rivers Run Deep
word count: 1787
Pairing: Human! Colonel Miles Quaritch x Human! Female! Reader Tags/Warning: hurt, comfort, established relationship, slight angst, crying, period cramps Summary: Period pains aren't the only pain you're dealing with right now. You're grateful that your husband is there to comfort you.
Author's Note: So I wrote this, then didn't like what I wrote so I rewrote it TwT For the request from @idrinktheadarling Hope it's to your liking! Apologies as always for any grammatical mistakes.
You didn’t think something so insignificant could affect you to such a degree.
But it wasn’t insignificant, now was it?
The seemingly inoffensive pink line stares back at you.
Singular.
Negative.
You throw the pregnancy test in the trash, washing your hands with gusto as if to wash away the pain.
And it was not just the physical pain of your impending period that assaults you. Your heart is aching something fierce. You feel guilty. It was as if, what right did you have, to dream of such things? What deeds have you done, to earn such happiness?
If Eywa was real, then she did not bless you this day. If God was real, then you feel as though you are far beyond his reach.
You had been so sure, yet cautiously hoping. Your period was late, as was indicated on the app you used to track it. The pains you got were always severe, sometimes taking you out of commission completely.
You remember that you need to tell Grace you won’t be available for any field work for a few days, perhaps even a whole week. You call her through the commlink. True to her name, she was gracious in understanding of your situation. She can tell something is off; there is a troubled cadence to your voice underneath your hisses of pain. She doesn’t press you for answers. You ask her to send your husband your way should she see him.
Once you’re done with your call, you meander to the bed, carefully laying yourself on Miles’ side. His pillow smells so faintly of his cologne. And even though you clearly have matching bedding, his pillow somehow felt just that much softer.
Another slice of pain cuts through you, and you clench your teeth to bear through it. Fucking hell, you wish you could be in your Avatar right now. Never have you felt so envious of, what was essentially just another you; the Na’vi didn’t have periods like humans did.
You smile at the memory of when Grace had regaled you with the tale of mortified looks from the older Omatikayan children’s faces when she had explained the concept to them all years ago. You had laughed until your stomach ached when she tried imitating them.
“‘Sa’nok! Are you bleeding now?? Are you okay, does it hurt???’ Oh, poor Tsu’tey was beside himself!” Grace laughs with a hand to her heart. She’s still giggling when she tries making a disgruntled face, pretending to swat someone behind the head.
“‘Tsk! Skxáwng! It’s probably impolite to ask such things! Sorry Sa’nok, please pay him no mind.’ Sylwanin gave him an earful for that one. She was always so bright that one, wise beyond her years…” Her voice trails off then. You see the shift in her gaze, the sadness behind her faltering smile. Even years later, the pain of what those soldiers did still lingers...
Another stab of pain interrupts your trip down memory lane. You curse out loud, clutching your abdomen. You don’t feel like stumbling through the base to medical for some pain killers.
You close your eyes, trying your best to will yourself to sleep. If Eywa could not bless you with a child, then maybe she would at least let slumber take you.
---
When next you open your eyes, you look out the window to see night has already fallen. The pain has subsided to a dull ache. You notice then, that a hot water bottle has been nestled against you, with your hands carefully maneuvered to hold it in place.
What? Who? When?
The answer is immediately obvious. The sounds from the bathroom catch your ears; the shower is running, and you can hear the faint yet distinct sound of familiar humming. Miles must have come in some time whilst you slept on, placing the warm bottle where it now lay.
You let out a deep content sigh, readjusting yourself and the bottle to be more comfortable on your side, facing away from the bathroom door. You eye then catches the items placed on the bedside table. There is a thermos, and when you reach out to touch it, the bottle still feels hot. Beside it sits some pain killers in a small plastic cup.
You sit up, propping yourself against the pillows. And as you do, you see the bag sitting at your bedside. It’s filled with little boxes and packets of your favourite snacks; at least the ones available here on Pandora.
You lip quivers, and you feel as though you could cry. You love the small gestures just as much as the grand. You clear your throat, vigorously rubbing your cheeks to stop yourself from crying. You grab the thermos. You unscrew the lid and sniff the hot contents. The smell is delectable and enticing. Your pour yourself some in the lid and drink it down greedily.
You sit there, drinking from the thermos in quiet contemplation.
The dull ache in your lower abdomen pulls your mind back to that accursed test in bin. You wonder if Miles saw it, what would say? Would he share in your sadness? Would he be relieved? Would he berate you for wanting to even start a family?
But what was really waiting for you there? A dying world? Was there even anything worth going back for? You had no immediate family. The only family you truly had now, was here, on this planet light years away. And who knew how long you’d even be stationed here anyway; this was for all intents and purposes your new home. And despite its rough edges, you loved this place to bits.
Did you even want to start a family on Pandora? You know all too well the hostility of this place. It was probably a stupid idea, wanting to have kids here. It would be a far better idea to wait until you’re both shipped back home.
And you love your husband dearly. And you are certain, without a shadow of a doubt, he loves you back just as much. You feel apprehensive though; the two of you had spoken of kids before, but it was always around ‘when we get back home’. Pandora never did feel like home for him; probably never would.
Your lips press into a thin line as your mind spirals lower. Why this time, out of all the other times…Why was it this particular time, that you’re so disappointed?
You don’t even realize the noise from the bathroom has stopped. Nor do you even register when Miles emerges from the bathroom dressed for bed.
---
Miles stops himself in the doorway of the bathroom, leaning on the door frame. He takes the time to stare at you, study you. You’re sitting up in bed, drinking from the thermos he brought. Your eyes are unfocused, staring blanking ahead. He wonders what’s on your mind, but he has a pretty good idea of what it could be. He had seen the test in the bin. Luckily, he didn’t need to pick it up; it had been facing upward, the pink line in plain sight.
He watches the micro expressions that dance across your face as your mind wonders. There is a tightness in his chest, and he quietly grimaces. He knows he needs to talk to you; you are clearly upset and the air needs to be cleared. When he sees the threat of tears in your eyes, the quiver of your lip, he swiftly pushes himself off the wall.
---
The sound of his approach has you snap your head up to him. It takes you a moment to register, but you offer him a gentle smile. It does not reach your eyes.
“Hi honey,” you greet him, holding up the thermos. “Thanks for this, I really need it. All of it, actually…” You return the thermos to the bedside.
“It’s no trouble sweetheart, anything for my best girl.” He lays down beside you, pulling you into his arms does. You nestle yourself into his side, head resting on his shoulder, hand resting on his chest, the hot water bottle sandwiched between you two.
“[Y/N]…Are you okay?”
It’s such a simple question. Requires a simple answer.
Instead you cry. He turns himself to face you, arms wrapping around you. He pulls you to him, your hands fist into his shirt tightly.
His hand leaves warm patterns in your back, his mouth whispers comforts into the softness of your hair.
When you manage to calm yourself, reduced to only sniffing, you finally speak.
“I’m…sorry…” you manage to choke out. He tuts you, and you feel him shake his head.
“You don’t ever have to apologise darling; least of all to me. You wanna cry, you go ahead and cry.” He wipes your face with tissues you didn’t even see him grab.
You open your mouth to speak, but instead you groan in pain as you’re hit with another wave of pain.
“Did you take the painkillers?”
“No…forgot…”
Miles reaches behind you, grabbing the little cup. He hands it to you, and you wordlessly take it. You wash down the pills with a swig from the thermos.
Miles instructs you to lie on your back. He moves his hand under the pillow, laying on his side, pressed into you. He moves the water bottle away, replacing it with his hand instead.
Slowly he rubs your lower abdomen in gentle circles. The light pressure almost feels like a massage. You let out a content sigh as the pain subsides back into the dull ache. You feel his breath tickle the hair on your head.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” He asks vaguely.
“Not…right now. Maybe tomorrow? When I’m not in so much pain please…” You answer, and he’s not entirely convinced you’re only talking about cramps.
“Of course sweetheart,” he plants a kiss to your temple. “I love you.”
“I love you too, thank you…” You close your eyes, leaning your head into him.
“If it means anything…I just want you to know, I think you’d be a great mom…And I’d love nothing more to start a family with you…Even if it has to be on Pandora.”
You turn your head to look at him then. His gaze speaks a thousand words. All of them feel like declarations of love. You lean up and he instinctively leans down to meet you half way.
Your lips press upon one another in a soft languid kiss; soft and tender with metered passion.
And just as his hand lessens the pain in your lower abdomen, so too do his words lessen the pain in your heart.
You feel assured, that everything will be okay.