Okay so first off, let me say that I've got a big scattering of sideblogs that leave me unsure what to post where when it comes to writing. So naturally I'm adding another sideblog |D main: auspun fandom dump: tandem-fandom inspo: fallautboy fallout/chronicling main OC: cf-reggie (it's old so no accounting for quality;;) mental note to myself: go through sideblog drafts as well
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Title: Sightseeing Tour
Fandom: Darkest Dungeon
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 1449
Characters: Hellion, Antiquarians
Ships: None specifically.
Summary:
One-shot genfic. This was inspired by one of the in-game named party combinations. Hellion with 3 Antiquarians is Sightseeing Tour, meant for the Hellion escorting the much weaker members through. It stuck with me, a warrior babysitting 3 appraisers who can barely hold their own.
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Standing outside the ruins, the Hellion thought not for the first time about how much she regretted this. She was a skilled warrior, a jagged glaive glinting as it ripped the night and all its inhabitants in twain. And tonight... a glorified babysitter.
The three who'd approached her looked much more at home in a library than a dungeon. The least-timid one introduced them as Antiquarians. Scholars, appraisers, archaeologists. Three who were very interested in scavenging, but very not built for it. She knew right away she'd regret it but...
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Julia: My creators did bad things to me, too. Things that hurt me.
Tau: But you still obey them? Because they created you?
Julia: No. They gave me life, but I did the rest. I created me. You understand? We grow up, and we become our own creators.
Tau: For what purpose do we create ourselves?
Julia: For each other.
Continuing where the movie ended, a brief addition as Julia makes her way home and gets settled with Tau in tow
Title: Weâll Rock the Stars
Fandom: Life is Strange and Before the Storm
Rating: Mature
Word Count: 677 [for first chapter]
Characters: Chloe Price, Max Caulfield, Rachel Amber, Mark Jefferson
Summary: Amberpricefield. set near the end of ep 4, canon divergence. Planning on a long fic. Jefferson should've thought twice before picking on teens with powers
âThat jackass creep teacher shot at me then must have missed, tried to run but I caught up and hit him and hit him and-â Chloe coughed, suddenly aware of how gleeful she sounded, â-and then he went limp and I hit him a few more times then called 911.â
âHoly shit, Chloe.â
@kunaike Hi /o/Â I donât know if youâd be interested but I did a writing-prompt game with friends and decided to base mine off this a bit so I figured Iâd reply to let you know/see if you want. I love your art, by the way!
Prompts
Blank Space "Cause darling I'm a nightmare dressed like a daydream"
Life is Strange
Rachel Amber. The queen of the campus. A social butterfly that seemed able to find things in common with anyone in the school. Everyone loves her.
'Everyone except me, maybe', Victoria amended her thoughts, glaring at Facebook and a picture shared by a mutual friend with them and Rachel. The likes were already twice what her last selfie had.
This wasnât the first time sheâd felt upstaged by Rachel, but as her fuming continued she decided that it ought to be the last time. If Victoria couldnât be as good as her, she may as well be worse. Morals be damned.
-=-=-=
Her opportunity for evil came sooner than expected though. In one of their shared classes the next day, the teacher wrapped up early and gave them a bit of free time. Rachel had pulled out a pile of photos, which if Victoria craned her neck oh-so-subtly she could see they seemed to be of Rachel modeling.
Hatching a plan, Victoria planted a book standing-up and open on her desk to shield her whipping out her phone to send a message to Taylor and Courtney. âDistract R.A. away from her desk when class endsâ. Taylor seemed busy chatting with someone but Courtney nodded at her.
Once the bell rang, most of the students began filing out. Victoria started putting her stuff away slowly while waiting. Courtney sprang into action, âHey Rachel, could I ask you something⊠over by the window? Sorry, itâs kind of private.â
Rachel beamed at her with an annoying oh-so-sweet smile. âSure thing! Is this about your eyebrows?â
â⊠Yes.â
They stepped away and Victoria swept in. Sure enough, all of these were of Rachel. Black and white â Victoria scoffed â with one foot propped up on the fountain in the courtyard outside. Brandishing a red Sharpie, she was about to deface the stack but paused. Hovering over it, she suddenly had no idea what to do⊠or write on it.
As she finally put marker to paper to start making devil horns on Rachel â now she scoffed at herself, âhow derivativeâ â a cool voice commanded âFreeze,â and Victoria complied involuntarily.
There Rachel was, looming. Leaning forward, she was face to face with a chilling wolfish grin. âOh, Vicky. If you wanted an autograph, you couldâve just told me.â
Pinning her down with her gaze, Rachel wrapped her hand around Victoriaâs and the marker, using the other to turn the picture to face her. Without looking down at it, she expertly started writing. Flooding with flustered outrage and no clue how to bail out of this situation, Victoria wanted to peek at the otherâs work but couldnât pry herself away from that normally enigmatic gaze that now made her feel so so small.
âHow bad must it feel? You canât even be bad better than me, sheesh. Donât start anything you canât finish.â
Then Rachel looked down to slide the picture over to her and Victoria could breathe again, freed from that stare. Feeling pretty boneless, she looked at the picture uncomprehendingly as Rachel packed up her stuff and left the room, blowing a kiss on her way out. When she could finally focus, she felt steam rising up as she read. âJealousy is a disease, bitch. Get well soon!!! -xoxo RA-â
Still worn from the beholder fight, Vex perks up as she sees Percy and Trinket slide open the sarcophagus. Even in the dull torchlight she recognizes the reflections of gold inside and charges over with eyes gleaming just as much. A dozen amulets, necklaces, and that mystical armor they came for.
Already mentally appraising each gemstone embedded, she leans in to inspect the coffin for any traps. And what she sees is Percyâs hand reaching down and brushing the leather. And a dark purple ring goes from low light to blinding in an instant.
Percy leaps back but sheâs not quite as fast. In an audible pop, darkness blasts outward for a few feet and itâs the coldest thing sheâs ever felt. She knows right away it may be her last. The blast is strong enough to lift her an inch or two off the ground then back down in a small arc with a sickening crack against the stone. The last thing she hears is Percyâs strangled yelp at what heâd triggered. Not the greatest final memory.
Then as she feels the iciness sink deeper into her, the eyes of a dark silhouette peering into her, just as cold and distant.
Suddenly she feels her back arch and she wheezes, glorious life pouring back into her lungs with another gasping shudder. Her eyes flash open and she looks up at the worried group surrounding her, gray aura fading around Kashaw. Percy biting his fist, Vax with tears streaming down her face.
And though she knows, the idea of saying what happened seems like the hardest thing in life to swallow. So she puts on a weak smile instead as they gave way to looks of relief, hopes her voice isnât too shaky. âWhat happened? Did I get knocked out or something?â
Title: Keep Your Friends Close (And Destroyed Loved Ones Closer)
Fandom: The Adventure Zone
Rating: M
Word Count: 611
Characters: Lucretia | the Director, Davenport, mentions of Taako
Summary: MAJOR SPOILERS FOR EP66 AND THE STOLEN CENTURY Â | At the Bureau of Balance, Lucretia and Davenport have some down time which means downer time
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At least twice a week Lucretia got impact reports. The injuries, fatalities, destruction wrought from the Grand Relics. Counties, countries, continents in constant turmoil. Where the Bureau was burning the midnight oil and she would find herself slumped against her desk in the wee hours. But that became easy.
Whatâs harder is the days of silence.Â
The days where reclaimers, seekers, regulators are off on their respective missions and she just has to wait. When itâs been weeks since specific Relics have resurfaced and she has to face something worse than numbers, her own imagination. Magic of untold power with silence surrounding it? The idea of whole cities desecrated, doomed because an artifact happened to come within a 50-mile radius.
What Lucretia hates more is the fact that the silence hit her hardest because it left her with no distraction from Davenport. One of her dearest friends in his darkest state. On his best days, heâs been reduced to near-monosyllable words and thinking only about his surroundings, a shade of the former captain. When his mind is foggiest heâs listless, pacing near the corner of the room murmuring mindlessly.
Today is one of the worse.
Following a jittery path that doesnât make sense to Lucretia , he stumbles suddenly into a filecabinet in the corner and sends papers scattering. His muttering pitches up as he rights himself and tries to go back to pacing but the debris have covered whatever mental tracks heâs following. âDavenport! I canât-â he yelps in a panic as he drops down to shove aside the pages but fixates on the drawings instead. âIâm⊠Daven-â
Davenport slumps and so does Lucretia's arm after releasing the sleep spell. âIâm sorry. I got you into this mess, the smallest mercy is to temporarily let you out of it.â
She rises and makes her way over to him. The pages heâd knocked aside were some that sheâd deemed unnecessary to wipe; a pressed leaf from one of the first planes, doodles from their adventures, a poster of the Tesseralia Losers, quotes from Taakoâs book of aphorisms.
When she lifts Davenport onto the couch, she sees one more sheet caught in his grip. Gently tugging it loose, the recognized handwriting sends a sharp pang through her chest, almost as much as the contents of it. The writing is shaky and untyped, like it was added a few years after by hand as an apathetic afterthought.
ââA single death is a tragedy. A million is a statistic.â â Taako from TVâ
Fighting the urge to ball the paper up again, she slaps it onto her desk harder than necessary and turns away in shock. âThis is what I saved him from,â she hisses, dragging a hand through her hair. âThis is what I saved them all from.â
Lucretia's not sure how long she stands there before Davenport starts to jolt against the chair. She steps over to him and sees his face twisted into a snarl. âHavenât we earned a little wrath?â
She recoils. âDavenport, Iâm sorry. I-â
âDavenport? Davenport? IâmâŠ.â The words flow slower now, thickened with drowsiness as she slowly realizes he was sleep-talking.
Hovering a hand over him, she hesitates and decides not to touch him. Every moment not awake is a respite for him. "I'm so sorry, my friend. You absolutely have earned it."
Staring back at the quote on her desk, she gets seized with a sudden rage and tears off the source, rips until Taakoâs name is a tiny shred.
-=-=-=
The next day, no one questions her new poster. The bright red ink of her own revisions.
âOne death is a tragedy. A million is a FUCKING TRAVESTY.â
Title: How to Make Your Blood Boil, chapter 4
Fandom: Overwatch
Rating: E
Word Count: 3257 (6862 overall)
Characters: Fareeha âPharahâ Amari, Angela âMercyâ Ziegler
Summary: Fourth segment of  an ongoing Modern-day Magic AU. Fareeha summons a devilish Mercy to get the power to find her missing mum, ends up with a traveling companion thatâs probably way too much to handle. Since based on a kinkmeme prompt, hits more than its quota of nsfw.
-=-=-=
âIâll give you humans one thing-â Mercy started as she lead the pair into the hotel communal dining room.
Fareeha interjected from half a dozen varied to-go containers. âShe says, like a normal human.â
Mercy continued unabashed. â- one sure thing, Iâm glad this world prides itself on food with actual taste. Thatâs one thing that never carried over to where Iâm from. Total hell.â
sorted through the dreamwidth kinkmeme for some good prompts (in general and for FF), below are my faves and potential to be filled for pg 53-60:
Femslash February:
Lena being a big poly lesbian | fluff - listen I love flustered crushy Tracer, maybe Emily asks her about prior experience and she has flashback?
Tracer/Mei/Emily | fluff - Mei crushing, finds out about the pair and awkwardly tries not to flirt but obv pining and teasing?? I love
Pharah/Mercy, oral fixation | nsfw - do I need to say anything? covers face
Sombra+Tracer | fluff/gen - idk I like nosy Sombra dying of curiosity over the one person that can break Widowâs facade
Emily/Lena/Amelie - recovery, gf sandwich | nsfw/fluff - interesting dynamic?? a family can be 2 lesbians and a killer bi assassin
?
widowmaker/sombra + strap-on | nsfw - iffy bc I feel eh about penetrative stuff but I like these 2 and something something pillow princess
?
General:
Mercy/Pharah and Mercy/McCree - Polyamory negotiations | fluff - interesting pairing? I like mutual pining into poly stuff
Ana/Gabriel - phone sex | nsfw - idk I like public teasing and even if they arenât something I actively ship I support bored spies doing flirty stuffÂ
McCree/Sombra | nsfw - anonymous stuff at a bar? Sombra being curious and willing to go to lengths to learn stuff
Pairing: Veronica Santangelo/Julie Farkas
Tags: sapphic september, Fallout Kinkmeme, fluff
Summary: Julie is pretty burnt out from constantly supporting the community, Veronica tries to support her in turn. Prompt/fill.Â
Pairing: Glory/Desdemona
Tags: sapphic september, Fallout Kinkmeme, oral, praise kink, smut
Summary: Glory is stuck at Railroad HQ and bored, her idle hands get her into trouble with Desdemona then gets something better into her. Prompt/fill.
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Glory drummed her fingertips against the supply rack at her back, water cartons sloshing slightly at the disturbance. The sounds echoed against the near-empty headquarters, adding to the frustration of the Railroadâs leader.
Pairing: Pharah/Mercy
Tags: Overwatch femslash week, Overwatch Kinkmeme, light blood, implied nsfw
Summary: Magic AU and spellcaster Pharah summons literal demon Mercy on a pentagram. Seeking the power to find her mom, gets more than she bargained for. Probably going to be continued Prompt/fill.
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Fareeha bit her lip nervously, tucking one of her dangling braids back behind her neck as she continued kneeling over her sigils, runes almost complete. Standing up from her work, she felt like the mere ritual drawing was heating up the room. Swallowing her doubts, she clutched a dagger slowly slid a thin slit across her left palm, watching as the crimson trickled out then oh-so-slowly fell, hitting the engravings on the floor. As the runes began to glow, the incense and candles she had placed began to flood the room with smoke, obscuring her vision. She took a step back reflexively and gasped.
