liminalism

(bea) i write sometimes.

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sfw

✧ Genshin Impact ✧

✧ Attack on Titan ✧

✧ Harry Potter ✧

note: written for academic exercises and
strictly before the author's transphobia came into light.

✧ Tomorrow x Together (txt) ✧

✧ nct ✧

✧ Seventeen ✧

nsfw

works rated E (explicit). relevant warnings and tags will be listed.

✧ non-rpf fandoms ✧

✧ rpf fandoms ✧

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writing samples (non-rpf)

excerpts lifted only from SFW works unless otherwise stated

attack on titan

(eren / armin)

Eren curls up on himself, small and wretched, like a millipede that’s been kicked out the front door, terrified of being squashed underfoot but helpless against the rest of the giant world anyway.“And I don’t want you to forget about me either. I want you, I want you and Mikasa to be happy, I really do, but I want you to think of me every single day, when I die.” He squeezes his eyes shut tight.“I don’t want to die,” he confesses brokenly. “I want to be with Mikasa. I want to be with you. ”Like this, Eren looks so young. So weighed down. Nothing like his Titan form, any of them. No matter how much he tries to fight, no matter how much he thrashes about and defends himself, there is no escaping the slow, inevitable death of being downtrodden and crushed. Like this, Armin imagines Eren as a tiny insect, a new species of ant; loomed over and peered at like some sort of sick new discovery, forced to hold up weights that far exceed its own and only just barely managing, only to be disposed of once deemed to be too troublesome to keep, or once it no longer serves any purpose. In the end, pests are pests, no matter how fascinating, nothing but vermin to be exterminated.Armin thinks he and all the rest of them aren’t any better. They’re all scattered on the field, only twitching bits and dismembered pieces, and he falls to his knees beside his oldest and dearest friend. The anger gushes out of him like toxic black sludge, leaving nothing but an empty and ailing hollowness in the cavern of his chest.“Don’t give up,” he says, mouth numb with a sudden gripping despair. “We’ll find another way—”“No,” Eren says. He still hasn’t moved from his position. Armin yearns to save him. “I’m sure none of them wanted to die, either, so how… how could I ever be forgiven?”

— excerpt from “in you everything sank”

genshin impact

(venti & diluc)

Once, memorably, he had gone to wake Venti up. The bard had ostensibly fallen asleep, and Diluc had wanted nothing more than to go home. Something about the way Venti had been slumped over, however, had Diluc freezing in his tracks, an icy sort of terror spreading through his veins — Venti was completely immobile. No breath; no movement of air moving through his lungs; no sign of life. It made absolutely no sense — was he not the God of Wind? Why, then, would he be completely devoid of breath? — but in that one terrible, irrational moment, Diluc had been truly convinced his Archon was dead.He had grabbed Venti’s shoulder in panic, shaken him firmly, Bard, wake up —— and nary a second later, the boy emits a truly indescribable noise: a twinkling sort of squeak, if Diluc were to be pressed on the matter, the sound of windchimes when one swings open a door too quickly and rattles the contraption hanging on it; or perhaps, the noise of an angry and ferocious frog —— and the matter had been resolved. The bard lives. There is air coursing through his body, breath inhaled and exhaled.Venti had pouted, disturbed slumber on his eyelashes, and looked at Diluc in askance.“Anything the matter, Master Bartender?”“...No,” Diluc grunted. He’d had no desire to put voice into his petty concern, that the Anemo Archon didn’t seem to breathe whilst asleep. “It’s closing time.”Venti had stared at him for a handful more seconds before ultimately deeming the entire conversation inconsequential, and instead sat up from his barstool, sinking into a stretch that was highly reminiscent of the cats that pepper the city streets.“Best be off, then!”Venti had lifted his beret in farewell, all but fairly dancing out of the bar.

— excerpt from “Plausible Deniability”

stardew valley

(sebastian / player)

SFW excerpt lifted from an NSFW piece

This is what you tell Sebastian now, as you trace patterns into the skin of his arm. He wasn't wearing any of his signature hoodies, just a loose black shirt he goes to sleep in, and he was wearing loose pajama bottoms. Paired with the light flush on his cheeks and the nervous look in his eyes, you privately thought he looked utterly adorable.“But I’ll ask you again, Seb. Are you sure? A hundred percent, fully committed, sure?”He smiles at you. “I married you. I’m sure.”Your heart seizes in your chest and you can't help but lean forward and wrap your arms around his neck. You touch your forehead to his and try to sound normal.“Can I kiss you?”He settles his arms around your waist, pulling you in, close so you have no choice but uncross your legs and place them on either side of his hips.“I’m saying it now. You can keep asking, but my answer for tonight will always be yes.”You laugh, your breaths mingling in the air between you. It's so hot, all of a sudden. “Okay,” you breathe, before finally, finally, you press your lips to his.His lips are soft, plush, a little dry but that's nothing a few kitten licks from you won't fix. That's for a few kisses from now, though; for now, you want to savor the moment. You press harder, wanting to be as close to him as possible, and he sighs and opens up for you, tilting so you can slot your lips together better.

— excerpt from “like real people do”

harry potter

(sirius / remus)

note: written for an academic exercise and
strictly before the author's transphobia came into light.

V. May/June 1993Remus is running. He can hear Hermione screaming upstairs, he’s running as fast as he can, he’s here, he’s here, he’s alive…He bursts into the room, quickly taking in the situation – Harry, Hermione, Ron, his leg mangled and the scent of his blood staining the air. The boy is clutching at both his leg and his rat, and that leg is certainly something to look at, but at this very moment Remus couldn’t care less, because there, lying crumpled and bleeding on the floor in front of Harry, was Sirius Black.He clamps down on his emotions and quickly disarms everyone in the room. The sight of Peter’s name on the Map is still seared into his mind’s eye.“Where is he, Sirius?” His voice doesn’t break. Sirius’s face is blank as he raises a finger to point at the rat in Ron’s hand.What? “But then… why hasn’t he shown himself before now?” Think, think, think… “Unless —” Ah. “Unless he was the one… unless you switched…” Don’t falter, don’t break. “…without telling me?”Something in Sirius’s emotionless eyes splinters at the question, and Remus supposes, in a vague, indistinct sort of manner, that he was unable to get the slight bitterness completely out of his voice. Sirius nods.A pause, and then suddenly – Remus has no memory of moving – the only thing that matters now is that Sirius is in his arms. The body he is holding feels nothing like he remembers, too thin, abused and malnourished and filthy, but Sirius is clutching him back, stuttering breaths and incoherent phrases sounding in his ears, and Remus holds him like he’s never letting go.It’s the first time in twelve years Remus has ever felt truly alive.

— excerpt from “Temporal Cartography”

writing samples (rpf)

excerpts lifted from SFW works only

tomorrow x together

(hueningkai / taehyun)

In a flash, Kai leans over Taehyun’s lap, snatches the squid he’d been staring at particularly hard with his chopsticks before it rolled too far away, and throws it in his mouth.“MMM, THIS IS DELICIOUS,” he says, shrill and muffled as he chews enthusiastically, like Taehyun isn’t curled up beside him in a ball of pain and Beomgyu isn’t staring at him in horror at having eaten something that had rolled on the floor where they sweat for approximately 30 hours a day, 9 days a week.“Don’t worry, hyung, that was on the floor for less than three seconds, duh,” Kai assures him in between chews.“I think I’m going to die in less than three seconds,” Taehyun wheezes, still hunched around his side.Kai quickly swallows the squid and then coos in concern, bending over to check on his friend. “Oh no, Tyun-ah, sorry, I didn’t mean to hit so hard.”Taehyun groans, finally able to sit back up. “How,” he grits out, hand clutching tightly at his side, “did you even get to be that strong? You don’t even work out.”Kai puffs his chest out. “I’m still a growing boy, and sometimes I don’t know my own strength,” he declares, and then deflates a bit. “My dad told me that over the phone when I told him I grew a couple more centimeters since the last time we were measured.”“And he’s right.”“You don’t have to agree so quickly!”“You almost just killed me with your steel elbows —”“Don’t be so dramatic!”“I was keeled over, Kai, struggling for breath —”“So you admit I make you breathless?”“NO? That is so far away from the point I’ve been trying to make — how’d you even get there — the mental gymnastics —”“Breathe, Taehyun-ah, look, I’ve stolen your breath away again.”“Are all your pick-up lines centered around breathing, your game is atrocious, Kai Kamal Huening —”“Oh, so we’re doing full names now? You know, Kang Taehyun-ssi, you start using really big words when you get riled up —”“Who says you’ve riled me up, you delusional, presumptuous, aggravating —”“The food’s getting cold, guys,” Beomgyu remarks mildly from where he’s wiping the spilled squid dish with tissue paper. “Just to let you know.”The two maknaes spring apart from where they’d unconsciously started leaning into each other’s spaces, looking for all the world like they’d forgotten Beomgyu was in the room, let alone notice that he’d already made his way over to them and started cleaning their mess.There’s a beat, and then — “Wah, of course, thank you, Beomgyu-hyung, can I help you with that?” Kai offers sweetly.“Don’t worry about it,” Beomgyu snorts. Taehyun is busy looking around for his phone, avoiding both their eyes, and Beomgyu reaches behind him to hand it over when it buzzes in his hand, the screen lighting up.

— excerpt from “paint me in trust (this night just can’t end)”

nct

(jaemin / renjun)

Do you believe in the supernatural?When Jaemin was in grade four, slambooks of all themes and types took his school by storm. Little personalized journals for friends to answer, usually three pages per person, with spaces for personal information and questions and fill-in-the-blanks that were designed for the writer to leave their mark in the journal owner’s memories. Jaemin himself wasn’t really one of the more popular kids, opting to stay with the safe group of friends he’d made within his class, but of course everybody wanted theirs to be filled up with answers, so Jaemin still ended up answering a few.Kuya Mark, one of his busmates, had entrusted his own spooky-themed slambook to little wide-eyed Jaemin, with instructions to answer it first himself and then spread it to his other classmates.Jaemin, who couldn’t quite believe he was being given such an important task by someone so well-known around the school, could only nod.“Do it discreetly, Jaemin,” his Kuya had emphasized. “I’m not sure if the teachers think slambooks are some harmful gimmick but still, better safe than sorry!”Jaemin, eager to do as his Kuya asked, set to work on answering the page meant for him. Do you believe in the supernatural? Do you believe in ghosts? Would you rather meet a kapre, a duwende, or a manananggal? He’d tapped his mechanical pencil against his lips, deep in thought, weighing which answer Kuya Mark would appreciate more. Coming to the conclusion that Kuya Mark would rather know the truth (he was cool like that, Jaemin thinks), Jaemin had scritched “yes” to both of the questions, and “duwende” for the multiple choice.As a fourth-grader who prided himself on being logical, he’d rather meet something smaller than him, a tiny being he could ward off with a simple “tabi-tabi po” and appease with choc-nut, than encounter a creature that could potentially kidnap him or force him to smoke, or a creepy disembodied woman with claws and wings and her entrails trailing after her in the night sky.For some reason, in his twenties and staring up at the moonlit silhouette of a winged half-body as it loomed over him, poised for action with sharp claw-like nails glinting in the darkness of his room, this little childhood anecdote is the first thing that springs to Jaemin’s mind.He’d always thought there was something weird with his roommate, Huang Renjun.

— excerpt from “the manananggal in p. valenzuela street”

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