#randomwrites

Hello, I'm Twistedtalkings!! Well, not anymore... I realized I was obsessed with views, and writing became a chore, so I started a new channel to write for myself! Call me Estrell (or Aster, if we're close).

This channel is mostly made so I could write about my OCs!! I'll make a profile for them later (maybe). Tags are #tbttu, #tssc, and #twst. OHH I also take twst asks! If what you send is interesting, I'll do it!!

(Banner is by @/hugsohugs)

Table of Contents

-Twisted wonderland Fanfics (Asks open, but I can reject)

-My Stories (The Bonds That Tie Us, Two Sides of the Same Coin, A Regular Fantasy Harem, etc.)

-Random writing (writing prompts or otherwise)

Asking Rules

There are three different flavors you could ask for in writing twst fics! Canon-compliant, Romantic, and Yandere. Please specify which type you want in the fic. (Very much twst, but feel free to request my OCs too!!)

I have simple boundaries, which are, please respect my religion (Christianity/Born Again) while on my blog, and that's all right now whoops.

Also, no suicide jokes. It's a very sensitive topic for me.

No flirting with me please!! Especially in DMs! I AM A MINOR!!! However, platonic flirting/nicknames are fine (as long as I start it).

Please don't talk about war with me!! I get very philosophical/obsessed with it, and I'm currently working on not doing that.

Minors welcome here. I've seen lots of yandere fic blogs that say minor dni, and as a teenager who hasn't yet reached her debut, I feel super sad about it. So yeah, minors welcome!

DNI LIST

○Those with church/religious trauma, specifically Christianity. More for you than me, since I add bible verses to each of my posts. Feel free to block!

○ Those who are rude about Christ in my blog. My God is very important to me, so if you got something to say, don't say it here. Or I'll block you.

Edit: Also, those who disregard my boundaries in any way.

You now know everything you need to know to ask/request! Now, personal stuff! About me, the one running this thing!

The end of a relationship. The end of a different time.

She knows it was for the best, but she can always recognize how much work it was to get to where she is.

She turned 30 only to have it ruined after the most relaxing vacation and time away. Sinking into herself, her 30s were already off to a great start. The rain knows those tears shed.

Work and being harassed by an ex, what else to add?

A new diagnosis and struggle with mental health.

There is always something about this time of year that leads to such introspection.

Breakups, moves, drama, car issues, her thrice removed ex for being suicidal and staying on suicide watch, or stuck living in a fake family who thrived on secrets. The list grows with each passing year, but as the list grows, so does she.

No matter the journey or drama, she somehow pulls herself from the rubble, finding a path forward. It's a feat of wonder that leaves her to believe she can do anything she sets her mind to.

The path forward is one of dreams she hopes to give herself. As life hasn't been easy, and while she's empathetic, she's consciously aware.

Just what awaits her past the rainy gray skies? Will it get better or continue to be a rollercoaster?

I’ve been taking advantage of every second, and in the evenings, I go outdoors. I stay there for a while to clear my head. 

For the most part, it’s worked well. Some kinks got thrown into my baseball, spring, and mini-road trip plans, but other than that, this is ideal. I haven’t even had to take a sleeping pill, my anxiety’s been practically nonexistent, and I haven’t once felt the stress the usual routine puts on me (and leaves me miserable).

To say I’m a bit surprised by how much of a roller coaster I’m still on where this guy’s concerned is an understatement. Four months wouldn’t be a lot of time for someone to get over another if they’d been in a relationship. It’s about half the time from when I met him to when he left, and we never were together. It feels crazy to me given my disposition and even how I define love that I did have that epiphany that I was in love with him. Logic and my own concept of love say one thing, everything else says something different. Maybe a more fitting way of describing it would be to say that I’m “halfway” in love with him. Or was. Or am. It’s hard to tell anymore. 

Fortunately telling the difference between love and lust is easier. To me at least they’re very easy to separate no matter how present both are. When I want to kick myself for the complete lack of rationale (when I normally have a lot of common sense and think things through), that’s when I know that whatever crazy idea I’ve come up with is definitely not coming from the love side. The love side is me missing our talks, hanging too much onto certain words or the way he says things, and how much fun we had together. 

We’ll have weeks where we talk to each other more and others when we don’t at all. It’s not a pattern that to me says equal investment (or close enough to count). We’d planned to chat last time, and though he was busy he never once tried to rush me off the phone and listened to everything I said. He said some things I really loved and, while I’ve never really considered using the term “sweet” for him, he was and sounded so painstakingly sweet that I could feel it quite literally aching in my chest. 

Heartache, it seems, is an accurate term.

I spend a lot of time outside. He does, too. Every now and then I’ll see guys that remind me of him and part of me wishes I’d just stumble across him one day even though he has no reason to be back in town right now. I’ll see them out playing catch, frisbee, or running on the same trail. So maybe that’s part of why I’m so wish-washy about this whole thing: nostalgia, fondness, and still-lingering-yet-unresolved feelings combined with the reality of distance taking its toll. I knew it would. I know it will. 

The few I’ve talked to think it’s worth telling him something, but I don’t want to overstep my bounds and weaken what’s left.

“But what if it works out?”

And what if it goes exactly the way I think it would, with him nicely turning me down and the “friendship” aspect of it all dwindling with the rest?

Even if I could muster up the courage enough for that, I would want it to be in person. Regardless of the nature he and I feed off of each other’s energy in a very distinct way. I’ve always read him better than most, and he knew that. Rarely people can figure out what’s going on in my mind, but pretty much just barged right through that barrier in more ways than one.

But that’s the optimistic side in which some sort of closure is realized, and that doesn’t always happen. 

“You’re rushing it! You’re still young. Give it time.” 

For now, I just want to make sense of it all. Maybe I’m still halfway in love with him. Maybe a little more than halfway. Or, maybe I’ve just confused myself in the idea of what I’ve unintentionally been clinging to.

I’m at a loss at this point. I’m smarter than this. At least, I should be. 

The thing is, this isn’t the sort of situation where whatever happens--if anything--is fully dependent on me. It falls on him, too. So once again, I circle back to not wanting to cross that line and push if he’s not meeting me halfway, wanting to respect any feelings he may have for someone else, and being frustrated for lack of closure one way or the other. All the while not wanting to damage our relationship. 

All the while wanting to know that if this isn’t going to happen that I need to figure out ways to be open to other guys who might come along. I don’t want to be hung up on someone with whom I have no potential of being in a relationship with.

Disini, akupun merayakan kegembiraanmu. Sungguh manis bukan? Cake-nya maksudku. Dan sepotong kue cokelat itu lebih dari cukup, jika berlebih rasanya tidak akan seenak ini. Begitu pula kamu, cukup kamu satu yang begitu saja sudah manis kok.

Silence.

There was something missing, or someone rather. A missing warmth, a touch.

"Why are you out here alone?" A voice asks, one she dreamed up.

"I'm always alone. But it's not such a bad thing. The night is beautiful like this," she muses quietly, aloud to herself, looking up toward the stars above.

"Indeed, she is," the voice, getting closer now.

"Why are you here?" She asks, humoring herself.

"To keep you company, of course."

She smiles before frowning. She couldn't do this again.

"You're not even real," she sighs, the heartache settling in deep, an ache she'll always cling to. It somehow reminds her that she's still alive. Still experiencing enough to create something from nothing.

"I can be as real as you want me to be," the voice claims.

"You're another story in my head..."

The voice is right behind her now.

"It doesn't have to be," it whispers.

A small smile begins to form, and she says nothing else. Basking in the moonlight, it's minutes later when she turns around.

Reality sets in at the darkness behind her and no one is there.

"See," she whispers to herself, turning around, "In my head... It's only me here. You'll always be another story to write."

The daydreaming part of her begged to differ, that inner romantic.

[From left to right: Anya, Wes, Ransom, Sean, and Rune.]

“Where The Path Leads”

Rating: Mature

This is a sequel to my story, “Not All Who Wander.”

Themes: Found family, angst, hurt/comfort, trauma, and a dash of levity, smut and romance to balance it out.

Ch. 1

Ransom's tall frame was silhouetted against the fiery glow of the setting sun. He turned to his friends, fellow wanderers on this adventure they'd chosen. The faint glow of the campfire flickered across his ebony features.

"Another few days of travel should put us near the next town. I wonder if it might be a good place to spend the winter," he mused, looking up at the sky. "Autumn has been gentle so far, but it's always good to plan ahead." He used a long stick he held to poke the fire. It popped loudly, sparks floating upwards on the heated currents of air.

Wes curled an arm around Anya, giving her a squeeze before replying, "I'm honestly looking forward to staying put for awhile. I know, I know, you're speechless," he chuckled, one hand sweeping out in a broad gesture that encompassed them all.

Rune sat on an oblong stone, the red ends of her brown hair standing out more vividly in the dying light. She snickered at Wes and her hands gracefully formed her words. I'm not surprised, she signed, a wry grin lifting the corners of her mouth. Love has turned you soft.

"Me? Soft?" Wes protested loudly, then shrugged, leaning over to kiss Anya on the cheek. "Maybe you're just jealous," he responded, earning him an elbow in the ribs from his girlfriend.

Next to Rune, Sean's face grew hot, and he was glad no one was looking in his direction.

Rune fired back at Wes, Don't forget, I know where you sleep. She reached down to pull her knife partway out of its sheath, a challenge on her face. A small smirk peeked through, and Wes laughed.

"Come on, you two," Ransom said, grinning. "You can kill each other another day. Today is a good day for peace, right?"

Rune shook her head emphatically. No.

Anya dissolved into giggles.

————————————————————————————

That night, Sean made himself comfortable on his bedroll next to Rune and Ransom. He was starting to grow accustomed to their new sleeping arrangements. It had been about three weeks since Anya had joined them in their journey, and she and Wes had their own shelter on the other side of camp. If he listened carefully, Sean could pick up the low hum of their hushed conversation.

Rune's even breathing told him that she was asleep, and Ransom seemed to be, too. Somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted, and another answered from further away. The sound of crickets chirping pulled a satisfied sigh from his lips. Turning over, Sean tried to get comfortable, frustrated when his prosthetic left arm seemed more in the way than usual. Blowing out a breath, he rolled to the other side. Idly, he watched the interplay of minor visual distortions from his optical prosthetic. Sometimes they were a nuisance; tonight, they were mildly entertaining. A thought fleetingly made his gut clench: he was going to have to eventually find a medical center that could perform maintenance on his prosthetics. They likely needed minor adjustments and repairs. He quickly tamped down that line of thinking and shut his eye.

Sleep was a long time in coming.

——————————————————————————————

Morning dawned with a definite chill in the air. Ransom was up early, a black leather jacket on, blowing on the embers to get the campfire going again. Rune emerged not long after, her hair touseled from sleep. Yawning, she stretched languidly and stepped closer to the fire. Pulling the buttons on her old wool coat closed, she greeted Ransom. Good morning.

"Morning, Rune," he answered, his eyes flicking back to the fire as he added another log. We leaving today? Or stay one more day? she asked. "Probably break camp and head out in a couple hours," he answered, brushing his hands together. She bumped one shoulder against him and teased, You're looking forward to a real bed, right? He chuckled. "Aren't we all? You can't tell me you haven't been thinking about it." She nodded, her hands still for a moment. It will be nice, but I don't like being stuck one place all winter.

"I hear you there. It can sometimes make one feel a little..."

Trapped, she finished for him. "Yes," he said, then gave her shoulders a squeeze with one arm. "We'll get through it, though, just like we do every year. Together."

Rune leaned against her friend, relishing the support. Together, she signed, nodding.

[Next Chapter]

Rated: Teen and Up

Summary: Four friends travel the wilderness, finding support and safety in sticking together. Each has a story to tell of what brought them to the open road, and struggles to face as they walk this path together.

Themes: Team as family, trauma, character development, body image, angst with a touch of fluff, some whump

Chapter 5 [Previous] Read on Ao3

The next morning dawned overcast and cool. Sean grimaced and stretched his shoulder, feeling a slight sense of loss on seeing that Rune was gone. Her comfort the night before had been something he'd desperately needed.

A tiny bit of folded paper lying next to his pillow caught his attention. Reaching over, he opened it, smoothing the creases. An unexpected warmth made his mouth quirk up in a smile as he looked at it. Two miniature daisies on slender stems grew side by side in the grass, the sun shining on them. He wasn't sure exactly what she'd hoped to convey with this message, but he felt her support and companionship. He carefully refolded the little gift and tucked it safely into his pocket.

Downstairs, Ransom was alone at their breakfast table. Sean slid into the seat across from him. "Morning," he greeted his friend. Ransom smiled and nodded at him. "Good morning, Sean. Wes and Rune are helping with the dishes today in the kitchen. They only needed two sets of hands, so here I am." He spread his big hands wide, grinning.