#maely writes

[mae-i-scribble]

Hello, this is a bit of an unusual post but I wanted to see if I could possible find a beta for an ISAT canon compliant daemon au I'm currently in the midst of writing. Content warnings include suicidal ideation and self harm concurrent with what happens in canon, same for violence/injuries. Current length is near 20k, I have no deadline/timeline since this is just something I'm writing for fun. My main concerns are overall characterization and voice since I'm writing from Siffrin's POV, story flow, and how well I adapt scenes that are in the game. If you're interested please feel free to reply to the post or DM me. I'll attach a preview of writing for the world to see

"But," you add quickly, hoping to move on from Isabeau's discovery and Odile's ire, "I found a good place to rest for the night." You gesture to the plain in front of you. “It’s plain to see.” 

Unfortunately, the joke only lands with Isabeau who gives a whole bodied laugh. Even his daemon huffs alongside in an approximate replication of the noise.  Hilde shifts their front paws excitedly. The two of you only grin at Odile’s groan and Mirabelle’s wavering smile.  However, Odile starts looking over you more closely, and when you can see her eyes land on Hilde, you suspect Isabeau isn’t the only one who’s found out.  The dread only grows stronger with the confirmation as Odile says, “I saw your daemon flying in. Do not tell me you’re actually as young as you look. The elderly do not take kindly to lying.”  “You caught me!” You say cheerily. “Actually I’m fifteen.”  “Fifteen!?” Mirabelle nearly shouts, making you wince from the volume. “Siffrin, really?”  You stick your tongue out.  “Siffrin,” Odile intones, warning clear in her tone.  You raise your hands up in mock surrender, “You got me. Just kidding. I’m in my twenties.”  Probably. Not as if you or Hilde remember your birthday. Your earliest memories had people guessing you were around 11 or 12, so that’s what you go off of.  “Whew,” Isabeau sighs. “You had me worried for a second there. My heart can’t take that sort of stress.”  Odile has a hand to her temple, muttering something about children and jokes.  Hm, tough crowd you think. The jokes won’t cover for long, you wish you could think of some more to distract them with. Prolong the time between now and when the real questions begin and they start looking at Hilde as something to be disgusted by.  “I never realized daemons could be unsettled this late in life,” Odile comments, tone too obscure for you to note if she’s trying to be hostile. It doesn’t sound quite friendly either. You decide to call it concerned.   "Oh, Siffrin, that was your daemon!?" Mirabelle claps her hands together, and you can almost see her eyes light up. "That's amazing! It's every housemaiden's dream, to have such a reflection of the Change God's influence." You blink, uncomprehending.

[mae-i-scribble]

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

Summary:

Hope, Natsume has learned, is an infectious sort of emotion. It lingers in the back of his mind and in the depths of his chest, stubborn in ways he doesn’t know himself to be. The times he assumes it has long gone, that surely after this, there must be nothing of it left in him, he will see a mother holding the hand of her child, friends laughing in the summer sun, youkai doing small favors for each other, and suddenly that hope never left him to begin with. To him, that is what has kept him going all these years, from family to family. The little flame of hope that infests him. The belief that there is a future for someone like him, so estranged from human and spirit alike, torn in two.

Relationships:

Madara "Nyanko-sensei" & Natsume Takashi

Day 1 for @natsumeweek following the prompt Hopes/Curses. Just a little bit of introspection set in my au where Natsume doesn't meet the Fujiwara's.

[mae-i-scribble]

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

Summary:

“Seth, you’d better start explaining right now or else.” Lucy snaps, fisting her brother’s suit collar in one hand. Chise walks towards them, hands up appeasingly as she says, “Lucy, it’s okay-” Lucy glares at her friend, keeping her brother tight in her grip. “And you, what is this about being sold? Don’t tell me that my brother-” “Lucy, it’s not like that,” Seth says hurriedly. “I can’t say my hands are completely clean but any sales I make-” “So you did sell her,” she growls, jabbing an accusing finger in her brother’s chest. “Which means you’re not better than that thing back there. Some low-life, no good, rotten piece of-” “Lucy!” Chise’s sharp cry surprises her enough to let go of her brother, blinking as her friend gently places a hand on her arm. “Lucy it really wasn’t like that. I wanted to be auctioned.” “You…” Lucy doesn’t have anything to say to that, she’s too flabbergasted to snap a retort. Or: A day out leads to Lucy learning the unsavory truth behind how Chise knows her brother. She takes it about as well as expected.

[mae-i-scribble]

wip wednesday! (slightly late,, maybe a bit more than slightly late), warning for major orv spoilers!

Today I went back to the post canon secretive plotter pov fic about the dynamic him and the 999 rounds have with 15yr dokja. This convo in particular is part of one of the last convos for it, since i have a bad habit of writing things in reverse chronological order. It’s definitely my favorite bit of writing i’ve had for a while though, mainly the last 2 lines bc like,, i know i wrote it but oof my heart.

“Shouldn’t I- shouldn’t I go back?”

“To where?” Secretive Plotter snaps, surprising even himself with the force behind his tone.

Dokja flinches, fingers playing with the fabric of his sleeves. “To the subway station. It’s been- it’s been really nice staying here with everyone but-”

“But what? Do you want to go back to being the Most Ancient Dream?”

“No!” This time, both parties flinch at the vehement tone. Dokja, his back ramrod straight, looks even more terrified that the sound had come from him. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled - I’m sorry but- but I don’t want to go back.”

Secretive Plotter fights to keep his voice even, soft even. He imagines himself trying to tempt a small animal forward. “So why do you think you should?”

“Well…I’ve gotten enough- right? Everyone has been so kind- but that’s not how things are meant to be. I’m supposed to be there, thinking- dreaming about this story. That’s why he’s hurting. He must be there now, becoming…something.”

Secretive Plotter doesn’t know what to say to that, doesn’t know what he could say. He wonders if this is what that other Dokja's- Kim Dokja's companions felt like, watching him hurl himself into death for their sake.

Somehow encouraged by the silence, Dokja explains, “He had so many people who loved him. They protected him. Shouldn’t he go back to them? It’s not- it isn’t right for me to be too greedy. I have enough good memories now- I’m happy enough for them to last.”

“What are you talking about?” Secretive Plotter spits, his entire body tensing. After everything, all the memories he’d caught glimpses of, the clear signs of abuse that mark Dokja’s every step, the emptiness in his eyes while sitting at that subway station. And he wants to go back? How long has he been weighing his happiness on a scale, waiting for the other side to drop so he would break even?

Dokja looks at him solemnly. “Hyung, I’ve hurt a lot of people, haven’t I?” 

[mae-i-scribble]

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

finally i have something published for orv! it may have taken months but hopefully its worth it. has post epilogue spoilers so be warned

Summary: Secretive Plotter is still adjusting to a world without scenarios, living peacefully in a house filled with more people than he ever thought would chose to live with him. Though tensions can run high between them, he and the 999th round incarnations have come together to help one person, Dokja. However, these days Dokja is acting strange with more and more regularity, leaving Secretive Plotter to try and track down the reason why while navigating the complicated relationship he has with his former sponsor. Relationships: Most Ancient Dream & Secretive Plotter (Omniscient Reader), Most Ancient Dream & 999th Regression Gang Rating: Teen & Up

[mae-i-scribble]

wip wednesday time yet again, this time back to my post epilogue sp and od speculation fic bc its most of what i’ve been writing these days and it brings me much delicious pain :’)) 

Dokja buries his face between his knees again, mumbling under his breath, "Why couldn't I have just loved something normal? If I was a good person, then maybe things would be better." 

“You were not wrong,” Secretive Plotter repeats. If he keeps doing it, maybe Dokja will actually listen. 

“You can’t say that- out of everyone- you can’t say that,” Dokja shakes his head furiously, the motion obscured by his knees. “From the minute I started dreaming, you were there. You were there and you were suffering because I loved it. I loved watching you go through that. We both know it’s true. So what if I was in pain? So what if I just wanted to live on? If I- if I had known what would have happened, then I never would have read Ways of Survival.” Dokja chuckles, the desolate sound tapering off into a sigh. “Who am I kidding- I would have still read it. I would have read it no matter what. After that first chapter I…” 

Dokja surges forward to grab Secretive Plotter’s collar, and even as grizzled as he is, Secretive Plotter flinches at the unexpected action. Tear tracks glisten in the flecks of moonlight illuminating the room as Dokja’s face twists. The hands bunching up the fabric of his shirt shake in a weak attempt to rock Secretive Plotter back and forth. 

“You- why can’t you hate me? You should hate me for what I did to you. All of you should. But instead you keep giving me all this hope and kindness like you actually care about me or something!” 

“Because we do. We all decided to live with you for a reason, or do you think we’re all fools who can’t discern their own desires?” Secretive Plotter asks, and something on Dokja’s face breaks down further. 

“But why? For what reason? What have I ever done for you?”

[mae-i-scribble]

wip wednesday time! in honor of spyfam returning from the war, i have a snippet from a thing that’ll probably never get finished. It’s a post canon loid has to leave the family au- only when WISE fakes his death yor catches wind of foul play and assumes someone has assassinated her husband and is hellbent on catching his murderers in her grief fueled vengeance. This scene happens when she goes to investigate SSS reports on the incident and runs into a familiar face.

“...Yor?” She freezes, almost killing him as a gut reaction as her heart drops itself to the pits of her stomach. Forget being seen- her whole identity has been compromised. What is she going do with Anya? What is she going to do with herself? Flee to a foreign country? But she doesn’t know any other languages, she’ll be screwed. What would her excuse to Yuri even be?

“Um,” the man beneath her coughs. Yor somehow feels her heart sink even lower. Maybe it’s beating somewhere around her toes, because while she had been reminded of Yuri when the man first walked in, face to face…

“Yor, Sis, if that really is you, then it’s me, Yuri”

Yor leaps halfway across the room in an instant. That was his voice alright. How could she not recognize it? Even through the vent- that was her one and only brother. But as the officer stands, taking off his hat entirely, Yor inhales sharply. Her weapons are left on the floor clattering as she rushes back over. Without thinking, she takes his cheeks in her hands as she examines his neck. She pales at the thin trails of blood she finds there.

“I’m so sorry- I didn’t hurt you too badly, did I? I’m really sorry- I wouldn’t have...have…” Killed you, Yor wants to say- but she’d been about to, hadn’t she? Worse than that, this means that Yuri…

“You’re an SSS officer?” Yor snaps.

Yuri freezes under her glare, reverting back to the same kid who tried to filch extra sweets every now and again.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wasn’t trying to lie to you,” Yuri mutters, entirely abashed, before he blinks, looking back at Yor in equal confusion. “But sis, why are you…” His face darkens. “Why are you here? Where did you- you kill people?”

“Ah-” Yor flinches. “Um, er, it’s not what you think?” 

[mae-i-scribble]

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

Summary: Joonghyuk wakes up without Dokja. That in itself is not alarming, although the spike of panic that shoots through him would love to argue that point. His half of the bed still holds traces of warmth. Dokja must have woken up not too long ago, unusual for the man who normally has to be rudely shaken until he deigns it time to get out of bed. 

He wanders out to find out why his husband has left him so early in the morning, and gets his answer in the form of Dokja sprawled on the couch, towel draped over his eyes.

Or: Joonghyuk wakes up to an empty bed, and sets out to find his husband. An early morning heart to heart ensues.

Relationships: Kim Dokja/Yoo Joonghyuk, Kim Dokja & Yoo Joonghyuk            

Rating: Teen & Up