Writing An Autistic Character When You Are Not Autistic - A Masterpost

I found a company called “Frantic Meerkat” who makes journals whose sole purpose is to call me out

there’s no better feeling than getting fucked up by an author over and over as you make your way through their ao3 fic list

Published erotica: terribly written, costs money

Fanfiction on ao3: Free, isn’t affaid TO JUST USE THE WORD ‘COCK’ FFS

Heads up, new works on AO3 will take a while to show up, they’ve gotten hit with a bunch of spam.

Slav pronouncing US states

🌜⭐Space Themed Asks ⭐🌛

Aoede: favourite music genre, artist and lyric?

Asteroid: thoughts on rocks and gems?

Aurora: do colours have meanings for you? what is your favourite colour and why?

Bestla: do you have a favourite norce god?

Comet: do you have any allergies?

Celestial: favourite celestial object?

Constellation: what is your zodiac sign and birthstone?

Eclipse: if you could give your younger self one piece of advice, what would it be?

Extra Terrestrial: do you believe in aliens?

Gravity: what makes you happy when you’re feeling down?

Light Year: if you could travel to one place in time, where would you go and why?

Lunar: favourite word for or way of describing the moon?

Meteor: what’s something your passionate about that makes you light up?

Milky Way: you’re one in a billion! who is one in a billion in your life?

Nebula: do you like clouds? cloud watching?

Nova: what’s something new you want to try?

Orbit: who are the closest people in your life?

Red Dwarf: do you think stars are cool!?

Phobos: something you are afraid off?

Satellite: what do you surround yourself with that brings you joy?

Solar: what is your favourite way to get cozy and warm?

Supernova: do you like hot weather?

Shooting Star: if you had one wish, what would you wish for?

Triton: planets have cores, what is at your core?

Yellow Dwarf: bright white or soft white lighting?

Zenith: look directly above you, what do you see?

Unconditional

Keith scowls down at the stick in his hands. The damn little stick that read negative. The third damn little stick he had taken that day. He stares at it a moment longer, then drops the test into the bin and gets up from his perch on the side of the bathtub to wash his hands.

It wasn’t common for Keith to be as infertile as he was. Omegas were supposed to practically oozing fertility and vitality! His alpha would argue that he wasn’t infertile, his uterus was just annoying, but Keith would definitely beg to differ.

The omega brushes his palms against his pants and decides to throw himself into baking something while he waited for Lance to get home. They’d been trying for the past three months. He’d gone through painful procedures, medicines that made him weepy or irritable, different positions, inducing heat. None of it had worked.

So his go-to was baking. That made him more of an omega, right? Maybe if he acted more like his secondary gender, he would get pregnant. His instincts were all screwed up anyways. He wasn’t like the other omegas. Lance always liked to tease that he was an alpha hiding in an omega’s body.

Maybe being an alpha would be easier, he thinks to himself as he aggressively rolls out the cookie dough. It would certainly save Lance a lot of trouble. Then they could get a surrogate and he wouldn’t have all of those weepy, jealous emotions that came with his instincts.

By the time Keith’s alpha does come home, the kitchen smells amazing and they have about six dozen different types of cookies. Keith is washing dishes, covered in flour and muttering to himself, his brow pinched.

“I’m home,” Lance calls, undoing his tie and slipping off his shoes. “Wow. You made a lot of stuff today.”

At his mate’s silence, Lance suspects that the tests had been negative again. Uh oh. Moody Keith and peanut butter cookies were on the menu tonight. He sets all his things down before going into the kitchen.

“Baby.” He hums, wrapping his arms around the omega’s waist. He buries his face in his neck, scenting him. He could almost taste the cloying anxiety and self hatred. Lance frowns, rubbing his cheek there to try and soothe his mate’s scent with his own. “What’s up?”

“The sky.” Keith replies tersely, still tense in his grip. He reached forward, grabbing the soap and pouring it over a dirty bowl.

“No,” the alpha snorts, kissing his cheek. He reaches over, turning off the water and ignoring Keith’s annoyed grunt. “I mean what’s up with you.”

“Nothing. I’m just baking.” He mumbles, reaching over to turn the water back on. Lance catches his hands, walking backward with him and turning his mate around to face him. “And I was trying to wash dishes.” He grumps, looking up at his mate.

“You never ‘just bake’ six dozen cookies.” He tilts Keith’s chin up, brushing his thumb over his cheek. Keith avoids his gaze.

“Baby…” The alpha pleads, leaning down and brushing his nose over his mate’s cheek, gently scenting him. “Please talk to me.”

Keith’s eyes flicker shut. He takes a breath, his throat suddenly tightening with emotion. He takes a moment, melting into his mate’s attention and closing his eyes. What had he done to deserve such a patient, loving alpha?

“The test was negative again.” He whispers, opening his eyes after a moment and looking up at him. He expected disappointment or guilt or… something. But instead, he was met with a smile and a kiss to the forehead.

“I know.” Lance murmurs against his skin, wrapping his arms just a bit tighter around his waist.

“You- what? You do?”

“Yeah,” the alpha laughs, peppering kisses along his face. “Yeah. You don’t bake unless you need to make yourself feel better. I’m not complaining!” He adds quickly at Keith’s guilty expression. “The guys at work love your cookies. They’ll be happy.”

The omega lays against him, thinking this through. He presses his cheek to Lance’s shoulder, brushing his fingers over his collarbone and staring off into space. “Are you happy?” He asks after a moment, his voice rough.

Lance blinks, pulling back slightly to look down at him. “What? Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because,” he takes a sharp breath, rubbing his stinging eyes. “Because you want a family. You want… kids and a home and… I’m not giving that to you. I just have- cookies! And negative pregnancy tests and fucked up hormones…”

“I have a family.” Lance hums, brushing a thumb under Keith’s eye. “My family is right here.”

“But I’m just… I’m just me.” Keith’s voice cracks.

“Just you is all I want. That’s all I could ask for.”

The omega sucks in a breath, looking away as a tear leaks down his cheek. How Lance - perfect, beautiful Lance - had chosen him, of all people, was beyond Keith. He was just a roughed up, foster kid, short tempered omega from the middle of nowhere Korea. It had taken two years for Lance to get him to say yes to going out with him, another year to break down the walls and figure Keith out, and six months after that to convince him that yes, the alpha wanted him as his mate.

They’d only mated a year ago. But Keith had known that Lance came from a big family and wanted at least three kids. So when they mated, he immediately went off his suppressants and had been trying to give Lance what he wanted ever since.

Twelve months of trying. You’d think by now that they would have at least had one pregnancy scare. But nothing. He could give Lance nothing. Nothing but cookies and emotions.

“Oh, baby, hey,” Lance pulls him back against him, burying his face in the omega’s hair. “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying.” Keith protests with a sob.

“Okay, not crying.” Lance agrees, brushing his hand up and down his mate’s back. “You’re alright. I’ve got you.”

“I just want to give you a family.” He weeps, clinging to Lance’s shirt.

“I know. I know. We’ll just keep trying.” He soothes, kissing the scent glands on his neck, trying to calm him down.

“Okay.” Keith sniffs.

They sit there for a moment before Lance picks him up, hefting him over his shoulder.

“Lance!” He squeals, patting his back. “Lance, what’re you doing?”

“Trying again!” He laughs. “Gonna get you pregnant.”

“It’s less effective when I’m not in heat,” Keith flushes, kicking his feet.

“Okay, then I’m making you feel good.” He pats his ass happily.

The house echoes with Keith’s giggling as they head down the hall. Finally, the upset omega smell was fading, leaving the house peaceful and full of life once again. Cookies sat on the counter. The sun went down outside. Things were going to be okay.

Hello again! Back with another one-shot! Sorry for the dry spell- Writers block is a bitch.

Just a psa everyone, if @gravitationallychallengedrabbits answers your comments and stuff, it's still me. I'm just a dumb who can't operate a multi-account blog 😂

welcome to my page!

Hi there! I'm Reny.

I've been writing fanfiction for about 12 years now, and my current favorite rarepair to write about is Vi and Sevika from Arcane (although my wife has been known to draw a JayVik drabble or two from me). A lot of my works are 18+ so please proceed with caution!

My lovely wife is my muse, however unfortunately for them (and you, dear reader) I tend to channel my inspiration into gut wrenching angst that borders on body horror. Whoops.

On this blog, we are trans inclusive (as a trans myself), inherently queer, mental-health positive, and pro ship whoever you like. I love interacting with everyone (a comment always begets a comment), and all I ask is that we keep it kind, friendly, and civil.

Without further ado; my Arcane fanfiction masterlist!

Vi x Sevika

Multichapter Fics:

dying to live - 54.6k words, finished, rated E.

desc: Vi loses her father and her future in the span of a few minutes. She's left to pick up the pieces and fit them back together - but nothing will ever be the same. There's a lost relationship with her estranged sister to navigate, a bar to run, and a mysterious regular who seems intent on helping Vi despite her insistence on doing things alone.

cover me in gasoline - 16.5k words, ongoing, rated E.

desc: Rockstar Vi AU. "If her music was a monster, Vi was its teeth. Vi was its claws, sinking into the meat of the world and ripping so she could feed the starving jaws of Zaun. She found solace in the violence of screeching chords and banging rhythms, felt her heartbeat in the bassline beneath the music. She shook with the rage, with the determination, with the dogged desperation of a town being erased by for sale signs and developers with faceless corporations ripping apart their wildlife and planting cement time bombs at their apex."

Series:

without you is how i disappear - 38.2k words, 4 parts, complete.

part one: these terrors gripping my throat - 5.6k words, rated E.

desc: canon divergent. Vi has some old wounds that never healed. Sevika likes to pick at them. They find a way to start healing them together.

“You good?” Sevika asks, and Vi barks out a laugh.

“Oh yeah. Fucking peachy.” She says through grit teeth, then sucks in smoke harder than was necessary to avoid elaborating.

Sevika leans her shoulder against the wall beside Vi, looking down at her, expression unreadable. There was a bruise forming in the shape of Vi’s knuckles on her jaw. Lucky shot. The only real hit Vi had managed to get in.

“There’s some girls at Babette’s who can’t do penetration either,” Sevika offers, and Vi bristles.

part two: as the blood runs down the wall - 10.3k words, rated E.

desc: Vi and Sevika fall into each other.

“You - You’re letting me move in?” Vi can’t help the shock and disbelief in her tone.

Brown eyes roll and glance into the contents of a half empty coffee mug. “Yes. For now. You pull any stupid shit and I’ll have you on your ass.”

“But why?” It comes out of her mouth before she can have a second to think.

They sit in silence for a moment, Vi clutching her bowl of oatmeal like a lifeline, Sevika considering the depths of her coffee cup.

“I owe your old man a solid.” Sevika says finally.

The disappointment that hits Vi startles her. Ah. She understood - debts had to be paid, and a dead man couldn’t exactly call in favors. But the hunted thing in her, the part of her that never seemed to stop bleeding or weeping or howling, cowers from the words. It was just another reminder that Vi was on her own, at the mercy of others until they cast her aside or died or betrayed her. She picks at her oatmeal and wonders which one Sevika would inevitably choose.

part three: as these days watch over time - 9.4k words, rated E.

desc: Vi breaks. Sevika bends. They find a way forward, together.

“It’s therapy and house arrest, or Stillwater. You pick.”

Vi’s eyes narrow. She pulls one foot onto her seat, wraps her arms around her knee and inspects the dried blood beneath her fingernails. Therapy. Like she was some sad Piltie who didn’t get enough sun. “I don’t need some shrink to tell me what to do.” She mutters.

“Well, the Council says you do, so. Pick one.”

Vi’s knee bounces. She bites at a hangnail, the taste of copper sitting heavy on her tongue. Either way, it was a trap. She’d stay here, haunted by newer ghosts and picking apart wounds, or she’d be sent back to be haunted by old ghosts and inevitably get new wounds. She had no doubt everything she said in a shrink’s office would be fed back to Sevika. To Caitlyn. To whoever asked for it.

Then again, they wrote reports on the prisoners in Stillwater, too. She couldn’t imagine how many eyes had been on hers over the last decade.

“Fine,”

part four: so long and goodnight - 12.8k words. Rated E.

desc: Epilogue.

Healing is a long, arduous journey.

Vi had been on it for a few months now. She’d grown out her hair a little, let it fade back to the vibrant pink of her youth. She picked up weight lifting instead of fighting, keeping herself in good enough shape to fight if need be, but not in the constant adrenaline rush that came with actually beating someone to a pulp in front of a crowd. She’d pierced her other nostril. It was a little crooked, but she liked it that way.

Oneshots:

bleed me to death - 9.9k words, rated E.

desc: Vampire Sevika, religious Vi, and a good amount of yearning. Set in the 1800s!

Vi had heard stories about the house on the hill.

She’d been warned of the depravity that lived within. She’d heard whispers about the guests who went, the weary travelers who stopped and never left, the parties that went for hours and the people who went missing afterwards. But most of all, she’d heard about the woman who owned it.

There were rumors about what she was. A witch, maybe. A woman with the proclivity to sleep with the devil in exchange for worldly possessions. A succubus. A monster. A devil in her own right.

my vow to you - 9k words, rated E.

desc: omegaverse, alpha!sevika and omega!vi, a wedding, and a baby.

Sevika was a little old fashioned, so she insists Vi and her wait until after they were married to share a heat or a rut together.

It was fine. This just gave her more time to make sure she could properly take care of her alpha, or properly make her own heat enjoyable for her soon to be mate.

let me find our future under the stars - 6.1k words, rated T.

desc: omegaverse, alpha!sevika and omega!vi, teen romance, girl next door sevika, age appropriate teen angst.

Vi had always been a vibrantly energetic kid. Her parents had put her into sports early as a kid, just to burn off the energy she came home with every day. She was scrappy, too, and could hold her own in a fight. She inherited her alpha father’s temper, and her omega father’s wit, and both of those combined made a deadly combination. Everyone assumed from the day she was born that when she presented, she’d be an alpha.

That was why, when Vi finally presented (late, at sixteen), she was horrified to discover she was not an alpha. She was, in fact, an omega.

doomsday - 6k words, rated M.

desc: zombie apocolypse au, selective mutism vi, one armed sevika.

Putting a bullet through your father’s head long range was one thing. Putting one through your sister’s, while she begged you not to, while the light died from her eyes, was entirely different. Vi stared her sister in the eye, listened to the snapping of bones in a leg hanging onto her body by the threads of torn muscle, as it tried to reconnect itself and her skin flushed hot with a virus that felt more like a wildfire - and she pulled the trigger.

vagus - 1.4k words, rated M.

desc: there were some days Violet wanted to pry open her chest and break her ribs off one by one. Mental health study.

She’d stack her ribs in a pile, wiping the blood on her fingers off on the bone. After, she’d reach into her bared chest and take out her heart. Untangle the veins and arteries that kept it in place, watch it spout blood uselessly. She’d stick her fingers in the valves she swore were clogged, dig around to pick the muscle clean so maybe it would hurt less when it beat.

Tumblr Prompts:

Vi edges Sevika or vice versa please? - 1.3k words, rated E.

amnesia Vi x potentially guilty Sevika - 623 words, rated G.

Unaware touch starved Sevika x (un)surprisingly observant Vi - 1.1k words, rated T.

Vi/Sevika Sickfic - 1k words, rated G.

How about something like Sevika finding out that Vi has chronic pain (in my head it's canon) and taking care of her? - 1.7k words, rated G.

Jayvik:

(I'll be so honest, you JayVik shippers terrify me. Speaking as someone with a wife who is one!)

not really here, just an intrusion - 7.4k words, rated M, ongoing.

desc: A character study in two acts - season one, and then season two.

“Who authorized your research?” He asks, and Jayce’s annoyance slides over his face before he can hide it.

“It was an independent study.”

Those words alone send a thrill through Viktor. He can’t say he isn’t distracted as he collects Jayce from what had essentially been deemed a crime scene. The possibilities that had opened up to him - if an experiment like this could go unnoticed, what else could be done?

This masterpost is ongoing. As always, drop an ask or a prompt in my inbox <3 happy reading!!

Hello all! I’m participating in Klancetober, a klance-centric October prompt list. I’ll be posting at least one installment a day, but please have patience If I fall behind.

*

Day One: A Walk in the Park

It was finally cold enough to bundle up in warm clothes and drink warm pumpkin spice lattes and watch the leaves fall from the trees. It was finally, finally time to indulge in all the holiday feelings and the warm atmospheres. Even if that meant suffering through the Christmas section in every single store. Even if it was the first day of October.

Keith enjoyed the cooler weather. It was definitely better than the Arizona heat. He lived for the weather where all he needed was a light sweatshirt and jeans and beat up old sneakers. The heat was something he could permanently live without. But the cold? He would gladly live in the mountains, given the chance.

Lance, on the other hand… he had grown up in sunny, tropical Cuba. He hated the cold and took extra measures to keep himself bundled up and away from any semblance of chill. He bundled himself in scarves and fluffy coats and heavy boots and mittens. He looked like a colorful marshmallow in the winter, and Keith loved him for it.

Today, the first day with an overcast sky and the first day where it was ethically acceptable to put out orange fairy lights and spooky decorations in the front yard. Keith had watched fondly as Lance had wrapped himself in a hand-stitched scarf (courtesy of his mother; Keith had a matching one that Lance had pilfered for his own use) and a fluffy sweater.

“We’re only going to the park, you know.” Keith teases from his spot at the kitchen table, finishing off his cooling coffee.

Lance huffs, tying the scarf off into some sort of fashionable loop. “It’s cold! I don’t know how you’re only in jeans and a t-shirt.”

“I like it.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “Are you ready? You’re the one who wanted to go.”

“I know, I know.” The Cuban grumbles, sliding on his winter boots. “I’m ready. Let’s go see the leaves and stuff. Even if it is twenty below.”

“It’s sixty degrees, love.” Keith grins, getting up and sliding into his own shoes. “You won’t die of hypothermia just yet.”

“I’m gonna die,” Lance groans, reaching over and taking his boyfriend’s hand.

“You won’t.” Keith presses a kiss to his cheek. “Let’s go.”

The two walk out of the house, taking in the crisp, cold air and the sound of dried leaves scraping against the pavement as the breeze whisked them away. Keith swings their hands between them, smiling to himself.

If there was any sort of heaven to be had here on this earth, Keith was sure this was it. With a boyfriend bundled up in more layers than was necessary, holding his hand and listening to him chatter about the new fall related flavors his favorite cafe was introducing this week.

That, added with the serene calm of the autumn air, the clear path of the park by their house, and the leaves rustling in the breeze - this was heaven. Keith was sure of it.

“What’re you thinking about?” Lance asks, snapping him out of his reverie.

The Korean looks over at him with a smile, leaning over and kissing his cheek. “Just about how much I love you.”

His boyfriend flushes, smiling and tipping his head to the side. “Aww, babe. That’s gay.”

“I am so gay,” Keith laughs, tugging on his hand and kissing him.

“I love you.” Lance murmurs against his lips.

With a smile and a hand on his hip, he pulls back and looks up at his lovely boyfriend. “I love you, too.”