Hey, I'm Xavier. I occasionally write and draw g/t related stuff, which I post here. my asks are open if you've got an idea you would like to see drawn or written! My g/t shitpost blog is @syndicate-speck
Oh look, I’m writing again! This is my @secret-shifters gift for @smol-and-trashy, they asked for “coldest winter” and “undercover/fake betrayal” so this is what I wrote! This was really last minute, I’m so sorry.
Word count: 562
Summary: It’s the longest night of the year, and with weather like this nobody deserves to be alone.
Warnings: slight angst, past character death (not really described at all), frostbite
It was much warmer when Katherine and Russell met. Even as she slogged through the ever-deepening snowdrift, she found herself right in the very same clearing where it had happened, not even half a year ago.
She had been hiding in the woods, making do with what she could find since she had lost her parents. Needless to say a human running into her was not something she had expected, let alone that very same human becoming her best (if only) friend. The images of pitchforks and torches alight with flames were still fresh in her mind when she met him, of the angry masses lashing out at their false enemy.
What about #12 (I love you. Cool, still kidnapping) for the prompts thing?
Prompt #12:""I love you." "Cool, still kidnapping."
thank you to @tiny-peter-rabbit for the prompt list, feel free to send me an ask with a number and/or quote from the list! (Also I’m sorry you deleted your Tumblr accidentally, RIP)
(this has been in my drafts for months now (I’m pretty sure) and I just wanted to get it finally written down)
Word count: 767
Summary: Dorian just wanted to get Seamus alone to confess his love to him. Unfortunately, Seamus doesn’t like being kidnapped.
Seamus couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being followed. He turned around for the umpteenth time, finding it just as empty as it had been before. Finally nearing his apartment complex, he stilled as a shadow fell over him. The last thing he felt as he fainted was a deep sinking feeling in his stomach, as if he were skydiving in a vacuum.
The first thing he noticed when he came to was the warmth of whatever it was that he was lying on, like a plush electric blanket. As he rose, memories of the moments before his loss of consciousness came flooding back and he scrambled for the edge of the platform he was lying on, only for the ground to shift beneath him, curling into a wall which surrounded him. The sudden reality of where he was standing dawning on him, he opted to curl into the fetal position, shielding his eyes from his surroundings.
“Okay, I know this looks bad,“ the voice was all-encompassing, rattling Seamus to his very core
“This... this can’t... H-how are you so... big?“ was as close to a coherent thought as he could muster. After all, finding out that someone is currently holding you in the palm of their hand isn’t something that usually happens, it was taking all he had just to speak at all.
“Look, could you just look at me, for one second?“ There was something familiar about the voice of the giant, booming volume aside it almost sounded like...
Seamus decided to sneak a peak from his huddle, slowly uncurling to survey his surroundings. Finally he turned to face the giant, only to be met with an all too familiar face.
“hey, Shay.“ No, this wasn’t- this can’t be happening.
“Dorian? Why- why are you a giant?” he found himself scrambling back, trying to find purchase on the hands cupped around him
“Hey, I know I’m taller than you but that seems a little extreme.“
“Yeah, well I’m not the one who’s over a hundred feet tall right now!“ He couldn’t understand how his friend was being so calm about this whole situation. Suddenly he felt the hand beneath him shift, tipping him out into a drop of several feet onto a wooden surface.
“I think you might need to rethink that for a second...“ Dorian seemed almost smug as Seamus took in his surroundings. He was in a massive room, one which he had been in many times before, though never from this kind of perspective. As close as he could reckon, he was only a few inches tall and standing on his friend’s coffee table.
“Okay, this is getting crazier and crazier every minute,“ nothing seemed to quite add up for Seamus, “What the hell is going on?“
Dorian seemed almost apprehensive. “Promise you won’t get mad?”
“What. The fuck. Did you do?”
“...I may have kinda... shrunken you down to the size of my thumb and... taken you to my place?“ Dorian thought it seemed obvious, albeit hard to process.
“So you kidnapped me.“
“What? No! I just...“ it took him a moment to come up with a justification “borrowed you from your regularly scheduled life.“
“You followed me home, shrunk me down, and took me to your apartment against my will.“ Seamus began to pace across the coffee table.
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“So, tell me... HOW IS THAT NOT KIDNAPPING???”
“Okay okay, I know it sounds bad, but I had a good reason.“
“and what, pray tell, was that?“ Seamus had quickly moved on from his anger to a more passive-aggressive position.
“I love you.“ And it was true, Dorian had just wanted to get Seamus alone to tell him that. In retrospect shrinking him down and kidnapping him may have not been the smartest course of action, but what’s done is done.
“Cool. Still kidnapping though.“ Seamus was quick to regain his composure, though he wasn’t above petty comments.
“I- wh-“ Dorian stammered.
“Alright, look. If you can just make me big again, we can talk this out normally and we can forget this whole kidnapping thing ever happened.“ Under normal circumstances, Seamus would’ve been kinda flattered upon such a revelation, but right now he just needed to get off this emotional rollercoaster.
Dorian hissed through his teeth, “see, there’s a problem there. Don’t worry, you’ll be big again, but I can’t just ‘make you big again’, it’ll take a day or two to wear off.”
Seamus sat down on the coffee table, pinched the bridge of his nose, and sighed. This was going to be a long weekend.
Well, that one was a long time coming, so sorry for keeping you waiting anon! I’ve also got a couple more asks I’m working on, as well as two secret santas, so stay on the lookout for more writing soon!
What about #5 (what's in the cats mouth) for the prompt thing?
Prompt #5:“What’s in the cat’s mouth?” “I don’t- Fuck! It’s [character name]!”
thank you to @tiny-peter-rabbit for the prompt list, feel free to send me an ask with a number and/or quote from the list!
Word count: 513
Summary: Bella’s harmless. Well, I say harmless. Mostly harmless. ...Kinda harmless? Maybe? Anyway, Cy’s gonna be fine, I promise. Hopefully.
The first few weeks after he had met Kat and Cy had been some of the most stressful of Seamus’s life. He had accidentally met the pair when he was grabbing a midnight snack around two months ago. Though there were some minor... snags... involving a mason jar and a lot of arguing that first night, He had eventually managed to gain something of a repertoire with the borrowers. Things had finally settled down in the small apartment, until today.
Seamus had just started preparing his breakfast when he noticed Kat walking out onto the countertop, waving him down from across the room. He walked over to the kitchenette and noticed that the borrower looked exhausted, it was clear that she had just woken.
“Morning, short stuff, anything I can get you?“ he asked absentmindedly as he went to the fridge to grab some eggs.
“Mmh. Coffee“ she mumbled as she sat down, swinging her legs off the counter in a move that had nearly given Seamus a heart attack during their second week of knowing one another.
“I don’t even know why you like that stuff,” he muttered to himself as he grabbed the coffee grounds from the cupboard, “hell, I don’t even know why I kept the machine in the first place, I was never gonna use it.“ By now he had set up the coffee machine, and was already steeping a mug of tea for himself. With that set, the human went about heating the stove and preparing his eggs.
Once the coffee was done, Kat grabbed some with a thimble. Sipping from the bucket-sized vessel, she suddenly stilled, staring at the doorway into the bathroom. “What,” she said, “is that.”
Seamus froze. He mentally kicked himself for forgetting to tell Kat or Cy about his ‘houseguest’. “That,” he said, motioning to the cat who stood eerily still in the doorway, “is Bella. I’m looking after her over the weekend for a friend.”
“well you could have given us some warning beforehand!” she trusted the human to keep her safe, but only to a certain degree.
“I’m sorry, it was on really short n- hang on,” he said, “what’s that in her mouth?“
“I can’t quite- SHIT!“ Kat nearly screamed, “IT’S CY!“
Immediately, Seamus sprang for the cat, sprinting straight for the doorway where the cat stood. This was perhaps the stupidest thing he could have done, as the cat darted past him, scrambling onto the small table in the center of the room. What followed was several minutes of frantic chasing as the cat deftly evaded all attempts at capture. Eventually she seemed to grow bored of the chase, and simply jumped up on the counter, set down the borrower, and returned to the bathroom from whence she came. Kat rushed over to her partner, only to find them... relatively unharmed, if unconscious.
A few minutes later, Cy stirred, only for Kat to start fussing over them with a new fervor. “next time...” they said to the human, “please tell us before you bring a cat into the apartment.”
Hey there everyone, I’ve decided to write some stories for @hiddendreamer67’s February prompt list, so expect me to actually post some stuff this month. Also consider this a celebration post for reaching 100 followers on my main account! I also intend to use a new set of OCs that I’ve had in the works for a while now, be prepared to see an introduction post for them sometime
February Prompts- Day 1 “Ignore”
Word count: 654
Summary: sometimes it’s best to pretend you don’t notice the tiny people running around your house.
The first thing s noticed was the disappearing food.
It wasn’t anything significant, but he would always find the countertops suspiciously devoid of crumbs after he had been out of the house for a few hours. The cereal boxes always felt a little bit lighter than when he left them, and sometimes whole fruits would up and disappear overnight.
Then came the sounds in the walls. Late at night, when any sane human being would be fast asleep, Seamus could hear scraping, tapping, and other noises emanating from the walls of his bedroom. At this point he was suspecting mice, and began looking into getting some humane traps, that is until he heard the voices.
They were quiet, muffled somewhat by the walls, but easily discernible if one was looking for them. From what Seamus could gather, there were at least 2 of them and they seemed to live in the walls, only coming out to scavenge, or as they put it, “borrow”. They had no idea that he knew about them, and they wanted to keep it that way. At this point he banished any thought of getting traps from his mind. He didn’t want to harm these little people, let alone capture them.
After that he began to leave little “gifts” for the little people. Nothing major or anything, he would just consciously make an effort to eat more food which would leave crumbs around, and if some potentially useful items were to fall off his desk, who was he to pick it up? He did notice, however, that the next day any of the pins or rubber bands or what have you would always be gone. He began eavesdropping on the conversations that went on inside the walls, learning more about the tiny people as he did.
From what little he could glean from their conversations, the two “borrowers” were rather close, perhaps brothers or romantic partners, and the two heavily relied on one another to survive. Seamus continued to learn more and more about the strange pair of people living in his walls, until one little accident changed everything.
He had just gotten back to his apartment, having gotten off from work early, and headed into the kitchen when he heard a small noise coming from the countertop. Immediately he froze, before turning slowly towards the source of the sound. There he saw a little man, only slightly taller than one of his fingers, trembling atop the counter. The two stayed absolutely still for several seconds, stuck in an impromptu staring match, before Seamus slowly began to back away, finally leaving the room and retiring to his bedroom. Once there, he again heard the voices emanating from the walls, this time frantic in tone.
“I’m telling you Lux, he saw me. He looked me dead in the eye before leaving the room,” one voice said, sounding heavily strained. This had to be the little man he had encountered in the kitchen
“You’ve seen the weather outside, it would be suicide to move right now!” the other voice, Lux, quickly responded. “Listen, the best we can hope for right now is to hold out until it warms up, and that he doesn’t try to capture either of us now that he’s seen you.”
Realization dawned on Seamus as he listened to the borrowers talking. They were going to try to move somewhere else, perhaps enduring harsh conditions, all because they were worried about him revealing their existence to the world at large.
He never did see either of the borrowers, and eventually he stopped hearing the sounds in the walls. And so, Seamus moved on with his life, and perhaps it was because of his tiny roommates, or perhaps it was for some other reason, he began to subtly search for others who had experienced similar phenomena to what he had in the scant two months he spent learning about borrowers.
I’m going to be participating in @hiddendreamer67‘s February prompt list, so expect me to actually post stuff in the coming weeks. Also, I’m going to be using some new OCs that I’ve been working on for a while now, so expect an introduction post for them sometime (or not idk ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)
Okay I think I've figured out how I'm going to run this part of my blog from here on out.
On this blog (@sovietspeckoc) I intend to post only stories with original characters, and maybe any art that I happen to make. Most stuff on here will just be written off the cuff, probably getting posted as soon as I'm done with it. I have a few ideas for longer term stories to post here, but those are in early stages at best.
I also have another blog which I just created, @xaviersfandomwriting which, as the name implies, will have any fanfiction that I write. Feel free to check it out or avoid it as you see fit. I intend to prewrite things for this blog and post weekly once I've completely written something through, so it might be a few more weeks before I start posting on there.
I'm still really new to all this, and I'm just trying to figure it all out, so things might change more as I go along, but that seems to be how I'm gonna be rolling with this for now at least.
Basically, I want to write a long term multi-chapter story, as opposed to the one offs I usually write, but I can’t decide what I should write. I have several ideas in mind, and I’d like to put it up to public debate as to what I should write. Both of the options already have basic story outlines, I just can’t decide which one I want to make, and I don’t really want to do both simultaneously.
One one hand, I’ve been reading a lot (read: too much) of the work of @delimeful, @arc852, and @hiddendreamer67 lately, and I’ve been thinking about writing my own infinitessimal!sides au. What I have in mind would be essentially a mish-mash of Delimeful’s WIBAR au and Arc and Mandy’s Perspectives Series. Both are really amazing reads, I would highly recommend them to anyone interested, and reading them is what actually made me want to write my own story in the first place. I don’t really have much more than the basic concept and some early plot down, so I don’t know how long this one would be,
On the other hand, I was thinking I might write a story based wholly on characters I would myself create. This one would center around a group of humans who are trying to fight their way back to their home after being stolen and sold into slavery. The issue here would be that I don’t really have a knack for writing characters in the first place (there’s a reason that I wrote my angst story entirely in first person with nonspecific descriptions of the characters). I have a more refined outline for this story, and it would be around 14 chapters long, spread over 4 acts.
In either case I would write the story out before I begin posting, meaning I probably wouldn’t start posting until at least around the end of the month, if not the new year. I would post one chapter every week, until the story is finished. In the mean time I would work on one offs and prompts, posting those as I finish them.
I would really like people’s input on this, if you don’t mind telling me your thoughts on these ideas, please share them!
Or, I’m not good at writing titles and this is an angsty story. I wrote it in late October, and I didn’t really have anywhere to put it until now.
Word count: 1659
Warnings: feelings of worthlessness, depression, attempted suicide, fear, swearing, general angst
Another monotonous day finished, the drab lull of dreamless sleep awaiting. I climbed into my home with my bag of ill-gotten goods, not anything important or that would be noticed, mind you, just what I need to get by.
It seemed like pickings were getting worse and worse. He couldn’t know about me, could he? No, that would be impossible. I’ve taken every precaution to make sure I’m nothing more to him than a few missing crumbs and a misplaced pin here and there.
I curled up in my bed, the slow creaking of the house around me of little comfort. I can’t keep going like this, I thought as I heard the floorboards creak outside the wall and reflexively tensed. He was moving about.
Eventually, the noise died down, and the emptiness took hold, both outside the wall and in my head. It felt like my chest was collapsing, a gap forming between my lungs. I curled up tighter than before, trying to defend my feeble body from this unknown assailant, until sleep’s relieving bliss took hold.
I awoke with a start, the buzzing cacophony of his alarm carrying easily into my home between the walls. I opened my eyes and checked the watch face I had mounted to the wall. 6:45, same as always. I sighed and slumped out of bed, the day ahead seeming to be a repeat of the last, and the day before, and the day before, the monotony carrying back as far as I could remember. I couldn’t take it anymore, this had to stop.
I checked that the coast was clear as I emerged from the hole I had made behind the refrigerator, I heard nothing other than the usual ambient hum. I walked out onto the countertop, much farther out than I would usually dare to go, the threat of being seen far too great of a motivator. Now, all of that was out the window, as I reached the edge of the counter.
I looked down to the floor from my precarious position, the drop seeming to be sufficient for my needs. “I can’t really be considering this, can I?” I couldn’t help but begin to second guess myself, the idea of ending it all simultaneously tantalizing and terrifying.
I started towards the edge, and froze. There was a creaking noise, just around the corner. He emerged into view, thankfully having not noticed me, to busy checking something on his phone. I slowly began to edge my way back to safety, when he entered the room and looked up for a second, taking a double take as he caught a glimpse of me. I hauled ass toward the hole behind the fridge. Thankfully, he didn’t follow me, probably dismissing me as some sort of hallucination.
“Shit, that was waaaaay too close,” I was short of breath as I entered my room once more. A moment’s hesitation, and I would have been seen. In all my 22 years, that was the closest I’ve ever been to being caught. The day may have been young, but it had already ended for me. Everyone knows nothing but trouble comes from being seen by humans. I decided to spend the rest of the day in the wall, watching him move around from one room to the next. He eventually decided to lie down, and I knew it was time to go out for the night.
I emerged from a different hole, this one located behind his dresser, a list of what I needed kept safe in my head. I went about, grabbing what little I had to get, until I was finished, ready to head back. I was on his nightstand, having climbed up there to grab something from its drawer.
I gazed across at him, his form gently shifting around as he slept. For some unknown reason, I couldn’t take my eyes off him. A small voice was urging me to stay, to keep gazing. Maybe it was that same voice which had urged me to jump earlier, one clearly not concerned for my personal safety. Perhaps it was some sort of strange fascination with this human, but whatever the motivation, I felt that I had to get closer to him.
I gave myself a running start and leapt across the divide between his nightstand and his bed. I landed with a tumble, thankfully it didn’t rouse him. I walked across the bed, taking in the view. His arm was draped over the side of the bed, dangling as a heavy object would from a crane.
I clambered over his shoulder and continued for a short time further, stopping in my tracks. I could see his chest rise and fall with each breath, a rhythmic reminder that the vast slope which confronted me was, in fact, a living creature. I endeavored to climb this living mountain, and pass unnoticed. Why I felt the need to, I hadn’t the faintest clue, but I went ahead regardless.
I clambered up on top of the blanket, and began to traverse the expanse, an uneasy feeling spreading from my ears. I knew instinctively what it meant: trouble. I tensed in anticipation, but only saw him slightly stir in his sleep. I relaxed, and then his hand came down on top of me.
The fleshy appendage had moved from its resting place at the side of the bed to lying on his chest, pinning me there with a weight I couldn’t hope to lift. I was trapped. I couldn’t move, I could barely breathe, and I was pretty sure that this would be the end of me. I felt the rise and fall of his chest, like a boat upon a gentle sea, I felt the gentle thumping of his heart far beneath me, a rhythm to lull me to sleep. All of a sudden I was… I was… I wa… I . . .
Shit.
I feel asleep, dammit! I’m dead. He’s gonna see me, and crush me under his boot or something, I don’t know. All I knew was that my minutes left on this world were numbered. I looked about my surroundings, I was still covered by his hand, he was still in bed, but now he was awake. Not only was he awake, but he was looking me dead in the eye.
I began to struggle. I didn’t chicken out of killing myself only to be killed by him the very next day! I managed to pry myself from his grasp, and began to book it. He scrambled to catch me, but I had a head start on him, I was already sliding off the bed while he was wrestling with his sheets to get off himself. I was running faster than I ever had before, the sheer adrenaline rush of the chase fueling me to travel at unsafe speeds.
It wasn’t enough, though. He was closing, fast. I had nowhere to run, I was trapped. He backed me slowly into a corner where he loomed menacingly overhead. When he finally spoke, it was in a voice not dissimilar to my own, albeit much louder. “What… are you?”
I curled up into a ball in the corner, ready yet unwilling to accept my inevitable demise. I began to slowly shake, quiet sobs quaking through my body. He saw my body shake, the small noises I was making and he saw my face, absolutely terrified. His eyes widened, his own face contorting into one of fear and disgust- contempt for what he had done.
I seized my opportunity and ran again. It was only a short distance now, and he was still shocked by what he had done. “Nononono wait wait wait!” I heard him call as I disappeared into one of my many holes. I slumped against the wall, and heard a loud thump as it seemed like he did the same.
“I’m sorry little guy,” I heard him speak through the wall, directly to me, “I didn’t realize how freaky this has got to be for you. I didn’t want to hurt you, I saw you yesterday, on the counter. You looked miserable. I looked up again and you were gone.”
I had no words for him, he might as well walk away.
“I just wanted to meet you… I couldn’t even do that right.” I heard something well up in his voice, something I had never before detected, not in all the times he had spoken, despair. “It’s not like I can do anything else, all I seem to do is fuck things up…” I heard him get up, and slowly walk away. “I’m sorry little guy. I’ll leave you alone. You probably don’t want me around, most people don’t.”
His footsteps faded. I felt something I had not felt in a long time, kinship. Here I was, feeling isolated, alone, worthless, and there he stood, saying the same things I had been telling myself for ages. I emerged from my home and moved in the direction I had heard him go. I ended up in his bedroom, his form taking up a different shape on the bed from normal. He was curled up in a ball, much like what I do when the hopelessness sinks in. He was quivering slightly, soft sobs audible from beneath the blanket he had wrapped himself in.
I ascended the bed and looked at him, poor soul, in the same position I had found myself in many, many times before. I slowly approached his shaking form and placed a hand on him, trying to reassure him. Eventually I leaned my whole body against him, embracing what little I could in an attempt to comfort him.
He felt the small presence on his back and rolled around to face me, tears still steaming down his face. I stood there, and simply leaned against his cheek, taking it into my arms as I comforted him as best as I could.
————
Well, thanks for making it to the end! I don’t really write all too often, so any and all feedback is greatly appreciated! My asks are always open if you have story ideas or just want to chat.
Ok, this is still a work in progress, but I tried a new method for drawing heads this time around, and I'm pretty happy with the results, so I figured I'd post it. Im not very satisfied with how the smol looks, so I might change that later on.
