#lua writes

[aesrot]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

bam. sonic and riptide crossover be upon ye.

gift fic for my beloved beastie!!

[aesrot]

woag would you look at that, new fic just dropped! mind the tags on this one, folks

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

One step to calm the storm inside you (4352 words) by aesrot Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Relationships: Shadow the Hedgehog & Sonic the Hedgehog, Shadow the Hedgehog/Sonic the Hedgehog Characters: Sonic the Hedgehog, Shadow the Hedgehog, Miles "Tails" Prower Additional Tags: Mentioned Amy Rose (Sonic the Hedgehog), Mentioned Rouge the Bat, Asexual Sonic the Hedgehog, Asexual Shadow the Hedgehog, Panic Attacks, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, No Smut, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Self-Discovery, Shadow the Hedgehog Has Alien Biology, can be read as romantic or platonic Summary: He should have predicted this, really. If it weren't some last minute missions and his deep-rooted repression habits, maybe Shadow would have noticed something was off. Or maybe it was the thickening mental fog that clouds his mind recently. Regardless, the hedgehog is not content in the least. He's the Ultimate Lifeform, for Chaos’ sake, so why does he feel betrayed by his own body?! Whatever this is, and whatever happens with him, he'll have to deal with it on his own. Just like he's always done. He can handle this… right? --- or, shadow navigates his first mating season, discovers things about himself and deals with his greatest fear: vulnerability.

[luaorion]

feels like I’m suffocating, everything is so fucking intoxicating. waves collapse over my body and leave me hallowed in the ground. sadness has filled my veins, the blood has stopped pumping and I’m the one to blame. that melancholy tune you play so well, it rings in the back of my head and the wind rips the flesh off of my bones.. I can feel my bones slowly decaying now.

©jd.lua

[miodas-archive]

this is only part au but ibuki/gundam when ibuki is about to die and gundam finds her idk how she even dies or if its possible for him to find her but just do it okay

NO ANON WHY WOULD YOU OD THIS STO ME

THIS DEF AU FOR SPOILERY REASONS SO #sdr2 spoilers

HUGE HUGE SPOILERS

(also please give me a bit of leeway with everything; i’m not thoroughly familiar with everyone’s characterizations yet so i’m bound to be a little off or inaccurate!)

UNDER THE CUT

When he sees the body hanging lifelessly from the noose, his heart stops cold.

It takes a gargantuan amount of effort to stop himself from turning on his heel and running away. There is something about the faceless corpse before him, however, that compels him to approach fearfully, hands shaking.

When he moves closer, his suspicions are confirmed, and the identity of this body becomes painfully clear. The raw realization makes his heart beat frantically against his ribcage, and it feels as though his blood has turned to ice, cascading through his veins and making him feel numb, so very numb—

He reaches up and gingerly lifts the paper bag up from her head between his forefinger and his thumb, and all he can make out is pink hair and blue lips — lips that would never smile again.

~~

…He can hear her laughter behind him on the beach. He turns around to see her sitting on the sand by a pair of crabs as she waves towards him.

“Gundam-chan! Come over here!”

He sighs. Rejecting her would do him no good; if anything, she’s far too insistent for her own good. He drags his feet over to the shore and stands next to where she’s sitting.

“I didn’t know crabs could dance! They’re pretty good at it, too! I wonder if Hiyoko-chan is jealous of them. Maybe that’s why she’s always stomping on them?”

Of course she would say something like that. Of course.

She turns to him, pointing at the dancing crab her eyes glittering. “The dancing one is Ibuki, and the shy one is Gundam-chan!”

He crouches down beside her and watches the crab shimmy from side to side. “Actually, the crab engaged in such an ostentatious display is male. The ‘shy’ one, as you say, is merely the female waiting for the male to conclude his dance so that they can mate.”

She giggles and looks at him, waggling her eyebrows ever so slightly.

“Well, Ibuki wasn’t too far off, was she?”

Heat suddenly pools in his cheeks, and he lifts his scarf up to cover his face.

“…Don’t be foolish.”

[miodas-archive]

TOOK A BREAK FROM REQUESTS TO WRITE A DRABBLE FOR OUR FAVORITE METAL DANGO RUMPS

“I wish he was my boyfriend, I’d love him ‘til the very end, but instead he is just a friend…”

He sinks to the floor and sits with his back against the wall, listening to the soft ebb and flow of her voice as it courses along the melody of her guitar strumming.

(It takes all of his willpower to refrain from shutting his eyes and dozing off right then and there.)

“There’s nothing worse than sitting all alone at home and waiting by the phone…”

Heat rises to his face; he never thought he’d be reduced to this just from the organic sound of a girl’s singing. Maybe she could teach him a thing or too. (In his dreams.)

Of course, it’s her -- how could he expect anything different? As far as he’s concerned, she’s practically angelic, so unique and talented and breathtaking, really--

“I hope that he’s at home, waiting by his phone…”

His lips twitch into a melancholy scowl. As great as he thinks he is, there are probably dozens of guys far more impressive than he could ever hope to be that will steal her heart before she even glances in his direction.

“I wonder if he knows that I want him…”

He’ll never be anything more than a spectator, a fan from afar, when it comes to someone like her. He can’t stand the thought of her rejecting him in any way -- and why wouldn’t she, when she has so much to choose from? -- and so, he’ll hide like this, content to listen to her voice stripped raw and bare against the worn guitar strings.

For now, he’ll settle for smiling bitterly and bringing his hands together in quiet applause as her song comes to an end.

“Huh?” she says. He can’t see her, but she sounds caught off guard and speaks louder. “Is somebody there?”

He scrambles to his feet and briskly walks down the hall, turning the corner and waiting there.

“Next time, you should say hello, whoever you are! Ibuki wants to see you!”

His heart leaps into his throat as he dares to peer around the corner while keeping out of sight. She’s standing outside the practice room, flicking her multicolored hair out of eyes and grinning brightly.

Her smile hits him where it hurts, and he can't stop himself from beaming.

He might just take her up on that suggestion.

[miodas-archive]

this song is old and tired i had forgotten the melody but between the notes embedded is your painful memory

you once were the sole tenant of my young and frenzied mind but the stars in these eyes have faded and i have left you behind

i remember all the times i never met you oh, my chipped heart still stirs i am nostalgic for better times that never were.

[miodas-archive]

the artist and the surgeon are not so different devoting hours to the human body to the anatomy and biology of a life empty cups of coffee littering their rooms papers astray, illegible half-written notes the white of papers and books and diagrams drowning out the mahogany of their desks mornings spent staggering into the shower after another two hour nap that must carry them through the day the artist’s pen is his scalpel as he delves beneath, subcutaneously and tries to see the beauty in the tension of muscles the curve of the spine the bending of joints the breaking of bones it’s his responsibility to show how perfect human imperfection truly is and as his brush meets the canvas he is struck by the weight of his task: he must give life to the human hiding behind the ashen surface he must do them justice, work with ruthless precision mistakes cannot be made (and for a moment, his hands are too heavy; it is too much to bear.) the surgeon’s scalpel is her pen as she surveys her canvas, a fragile life an unconscious body trusting her to give it perfect form once more crimson flows through the veins like ink in a barrel and the tumor is a black stain on the portrait of this person’s body she excises it, sweat beading on her forehead and the stain slowly shrinks away until the portrait is picturesque once more she sets down the scalpel, heart still racing how terrifying it is that mistakes cannot be made (and yet, she must step back and admire her work for what is the result of the will to live - what is survival, if not art?) the artist and the surgeon have a common goal both must find where art meets science and yet they never happen to see each other on their way there.

[miodas-archive]

updated list of shit i gotta write/finish

junko/mondo thing!!! i didn't get a chance to work on it today

leosaya prompts

hahahagakure/asahina

leosaya wip

sakura/asahina

mastermind hagakure

edit junko/mukuro fic