presque vu

anonymous asked:

Presque Vu?

Presque Vu is a story that poured out of me in a torrent. The story is about 70K long and I think I wrote it in less than a month. As such, it shows a lot of ragged emotional edges that normally I would file away from a story as too personal.

I don’t know if I’ve confessed this before, but here it is:

Arthur’s dream, after Mal dies, is my dream. I never remember my dreams, but this one has never left me. It came the night after my best friend’s funeral, and it’s lingered with me, every single detail. I like to think it was her telling me she was okay, and that I needed to stop being such a fucking pussy and sobbing uncontrollably. I remember sitting next to her in a theater and dragging her into my arms like it could keep her there with me and smelling the sharp lemon of my own perfume, and how it felt to wake myself up crying after. 

A lot of times people have asked me how to write something compelling, what makes a story good and emotionally resonant. I think it’s the willingness to excavate yourself, to give away your happiness and horror in equal measure. It’s not easy, but it’s the reason some stories will land like a fist around your heart, squeezing, others like a knife to the gut mid-twist. 

(And to the other people to asked: It’s unlikely I will write in Inception fandom again, but never say never and all that jazz.)

anonymous asked:

Top 5 fanfic authors of all time? Favourite fic by each of those and why? What are your top 5 fics of all time? Or top 10 if you can't narrow it down any more. You're either my first or second favourite fanfic author ever and my top five fics of yours (in no order) are 'Snake, Wolf', 'reverse', 'Stormborn', 'glitter and gold' and (currently; the fifth changes) 'my bones'. I adore 'Cry Havoc 2' but it's painful to read (in a good way) so I don't read it often and 'Bite' will be up there soon too.

Oh god. Um. I think it would be…

1) Vathara

1. Entanglements, 2. River of Stars, 3. Project Asclepius, 4. Lone Flower, 5. Upon a Fiery Steed

2) Tierfal

1. Systole, 2. Diplomatic Excursions and Other Ways to Die, 3. The Twelfth Cup of Coffee, 4. But Not Buried This Time, 5. Simple Things

3) Tozette

1. The One-and-a-Half Body Problem, 2. The Fair Maiden, 3. The Natural Habitat of Haruno Sakura, 4. Teamwork: a Teacher’s Guide, 5. Several Things You’re Not Looking For

4) rageprufrock

1. Only As Directed, 2. Presque Vu, 3. Early Returns, 4. Three Castles, 5. White Wedding

5) canistakahari

1. If You’re Into It, 2. Say My Name (And Every Color Illuminates), 3. Run (I’m a Natural Disaster), 4. Aftershocks, 5. It’s Super Effective!

Top 5 fics would have to be…

1) Entanglements by Vathara

2) Convergence by blacknoise

3) To Be Invisible by Vathara

4) Only Bridges To by tb_ll57

5) this time tomorrow (where were we?) by dorcas_gustine

anonymous asked:

What are your top ten fave fics (or fic authors, since maybe all your fave fics are already on that poker pair list 😂)

oooooooo thats hard lmfao yeah ur right all my fav dgm fics are on that list lololol damn ten is a big number let’s see if i can do this esdrfg i’m gonna kinda chop and mix between the authors of my favourite fics and the best fics from my favourite authors, but i cant keep it to one fandom sorry lololol anD also i cant really ???? put them in a specific order???? lmao i love all the authors for their various styles and stories, but let’s see how i go ahahaha

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anonymous asked:

Goodness gracious, I'm not the anon who requested the first one but could you write a follow up drabble for that Deja Vu story with Reaper please? That destroyed me but I cant get enough of the angstttt. :')

Presque vu (noun, from French, meaning “almost seen”) is the intense feeling of being on the very brink of a powerful epiphany, insight, or revelation, without actually achieving the revelation. The feeling is often therefore associated with a frustrating, tantalizing sense of incompleteness or near-completeness.

“Who was that”, you asked, voice thick and heavy with confusion, bewilderment. Your evac from the Talon base had been swift, the information you had acquired only half what it should have been. But you couldn’t find it in you to focus on the failure of the mission. All your mind could seem to recall is that voice. Why did you know that voice? Why did that name sound so familiar?

“He iz nothing but a criminal”, Angela answered, trying to keep her tone steady, normal. But you could hear the underlying layer of agitation, the attempts to try and keep her clipped tone under control. There was a miniscule tick in her left eye, a tell that she wasn’t quite able to clamp down all the way on. She…was lying.

You had never questioned the woman, trusted her wholeheartedly and believed in her goodness and honesty. She had saved you, hadn’t she? Why would she lie to you? What purpose would that serve you. And why did you know what to look for? Your mind was quickly going through tells; signs someone was being disingenuous, a skill that Angela had not taught you.

Act natural.Make her believe that you believe her.

Your mind ordered and you listened, forcing the tension out of your shoulders, your brow relaxing as you nodded your head and actually smiled at her. You gently took Angela’s hands in your own, sighing softly in ‘relief’.

“Thank you Ang”, you said, tilting your head to the side in a sweet gesture. “He really really shook me up. I don’t know what I’d do without you here.”

You watched Angela’s face go soft as she squeezed your hands back and smiled, tension relaxing in her shoulders. She wasn’t worried anymore, pulling you into a tight hug and rubbing your back warmly. You kept your body relaxed, your arms squeezing her back a little harder than normal. Showing her your ‘true’ appreciation.

“Of course”, she said as she pulled away, looking you over with a smile. “I am happy to help. Why don’t you go back to your room and get some rest?”

You nodded your head with a smile and turned towards your room, your steps calm and collected until you entered your room. Your hand drifted to your head, running your fingers to your hair as you tried to calm yourself down. You chewed on the inside of your cheek as you sank down onto your bed, brows furrowed as you tried to figure out just what the hell all of that was. Fighting being familiar had been explained, it was muscle memory from before you lost your memory. But reading microexpressions, manipulating someone emotionally, that was new. But at the same time it wasn’t…Just like that man…

‘Te amo.’

‘Te Quiero Besar’

‘Mi reina’

‘Tu me vuelves loca!’



That deep, husky voice played in your mind like clockwork, making your chest ache painfully for reasons you didn’t understand. Your head didn’t punish you now when they thought back to those words but you had absolutely no idea what to do with those memories. There was still no face to put to that image other than the tall, monster of a man. The man who took the image of the barn owl, of Santa Muerte, of new beginnings and protection from evil. Your brow furrowed even tighter. How did you know all this?

You set a candle down at an altar, it was small and personal but yours. Santa Muerte shrouded, a skeleton face with long robes sat at the center. An apple. Coffee and caramel candies. A barn owl. The sickly sweet scent of tequila. A thick stack of bills. A single shotgun shell.

‘Protect him on his passage…’

Your shoulders jumped in surprise as tears that you hadn’t even known were there fell down your cheeks. Your fingers shook as they lifted, pushing them away only for more tears to replace them. A sob bubbled up from your chest, aching and painful but…relieved? Your arms wrapped tight around you as you tried to calm yourself down, your mind racing but always returning to one line of thought.

You knew the Reaper and he knew you. And you were going to find out how.

Reaper’s fingers flew across the keyboard, search after search coming to a dead end on Talon’s mainframe. His agitation was visible, plumes of smoke rolling off of his body as he slammed his hand down on the holo-keyboard only to have it dissipate.

You had died in Lagos last year. They had found a body. There was a fucking funeral. He had made sure your grave was always covered in flowers. He had listened to you prattle on and on about the language of flowers, watched you make floral arrangements just as easily as you could disassemble a gun or break through someone’s security. His place used to smell like a florist and he would complain with a smile only for you to stick a tiny blue forget-me-not into his curls. ‘True love’ you had told him it meant with a kiss, pressing your body into his and smiling up at him. You were his light in the hell that Blackwatch had thrown you into and that light had been snuffed out…until it wasn’t.

Gabriel growled; deep, low and monstrous sounding anger rippling through him. The death certificate had been signed by none other than Overwatch’s resident mad doctor, Angela Ziegler. The one who turned a boy into a cyborg monstrosity and then manipulated him into fighting until it thoroughly broke his spirit. The one who had played god and turned Gabriel Reyes into Reaper, and left him to fucking die when it seemed his body would not hold together. He was seething. He had mourned you, prayed to Santa Muerte for your journey and had reached out to you on Dia de los Muertos. And all this time, this witch had you.

And she had done something to you. Gabriel couldn’t erase the scared look that had been in your big brown eyes, couldn’t unsee you going completely blank when he said your name. Realization sparkled as you came to before something slammed down on those memories, pain flashing across your beautiful face before you became frantic to get away from him. His humanity had been stripped away in pieces when he had been brought back; the need to consume souls, the aching cool emptiness that would fill his core satiated by death and vengeance, the need to violently correct what had caused the fall of Overwatch and Blackwatch. But seeing you had set a fire off inside of him, reawakening a loving need that he didn’t know he still had. His mind tried to convince him that it was a trick, that this was a clone or an AI or something other than the dead woman that had been buried. But he knew that wasn’t true, he could see your soul, could see that this was his woman. He was more smoke than person as he seethed, moving away from the computer and beginning to formulate a plan in his mind.

“Voy a matar a esa bruja”

romanticdrift  asked:

I blame your (beloved) fics for forming some of my ludicrous romantic expectations as a teenager (to have someone who loved me like Eames did Arthur in Presque Vu, or Erik did Charles in Limited Release). But my unassailable fav is the GEN Disentanglement. I literally cannot reread it because of how it hurts to watch Eduardo's grief, as he lets go, grow up, and dream other dreams. And yet I remember every exquisite word, and think of it often - especially as I graduate this year, and move on.

If we can’t aspire to soul shattering world ending love in at least our creative endeavors, then what’s the point, right? 

Also, OOF, Disentanglement. Such a mindfuck of a story – for me and evidently so many people who read it!

albabutter  asked:

the one fic that has stayed with me above all others that I have read is Presque Vu. "Dry and surprisingly bitchy" immediately comes to mind. I've never read anything that so perfectly fit in with the source material and also surpassed it. When I made one of my best friends read it so I could have someone to obsess with, we'd literally just screenshot our favorite parts and text them to each other. So you know, that's creepy and embarrassing but also a testament to your skills! so kudos!

I’m so flattered! Not creepy and embarrassing at all. There can be no greater compliment than that something you made stuck with someone – honestly, never be embarrassed to tell someone that. It’ll likely make their day or month or year. That kind of thing has its own sort of immortality for writers.

romancedeldiablo  asked:

okay so I haven't really been catholic in a long ass time and my family never did pray to la santa muerte but I read your deja vu and presque vu and caught myself muttering out a prayer on instinct so I guess this is a winded introduction to say thank you for appealing to my mexican Gabe loving ass. your writing is life, thanks 👌👌👌

You are so welcome, thank you for the kind words! When I write about characters I always try and keep their cultures intertwined with em if I can  and I’m glad you enjoyed it 

Originally posted by geekylaugifs

bodedo  asked:

Presque Vu is one I always remember. The way you built Mal's personality and character from the ground up. God. GOD. Amazing. Such incredible skill, the way you write characters that are so fantastic I just want to revel in the reading. (And rereading xD) Honestly I think I've read a large chunk of your fics at least three or four times. I'm NOT EVEN IN MOST OF THOSE FANDOMS lmao

Thank you! And if it makes you feel any better, I always only feel tangentially in those fandoms, especially since I so frequently just write one thing as a hit and run and then am high tailing my way out of town.

Presque Vu

Rating: T (mild coarse language)

Words: ~4700

Links: FFN // AO3

Summary: Presque vu, the intense feeling of being at the brink of an epiphany. // Leo is dense, Elliot is in love, and Oz is a cupid, or at least trying to be. // Fluffy Elleo modern AU.

Happy birthday, Leo! // October 25

The companion piece to this artwork.

This is also for PHPM prompt #4: love.

Let it be said that Elliot was an idiot. An utterly clueless, clumsy idiot.

Because Leo had always known that Elliot was tactless at best, and a walking disaster at worst, but he hadn’t figured it was to this extent. Sometimes he wondered how such a prominent family like the Nightrays could completely overlook the delicate art of not sticking your foot into your mouth every other time you open it. But evidently it was possible, because that was exactly what Elliot did.

To be fair, he did have a certain amount of grace when maneuvering any sort of casual human interaction, but even the tiniest bit outside the acquaintance zone and he would just flounder pathetically.

So that was a foregone conclusion, and you would think he’d at least have the sense to tactfully retreat from such social situations, but no, Elliot would tackle them head-on and get his sorry ass handed to him.

It was probably out of some cosmic hiccup that he had actually managed to form a somewhat functional friendship with Leo, though the functional part was debatable, honestly. And even with Oz, it was more of Oz made friends with Elliot, and Elliot grudgingly accepted that Oz just wouldn’t leave him alone. So in the end, Elliot failed horribly at dealing with people in any even slightly intimate circumstances.

Which made it all the more painful when Valentine’s Day rolled around.

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bottlelightning  asked:

I remember your work mostly for being atmospheric, the locations are as important as the characters and always so well-described that I've no doubt you have either been there (wherever) or done intense research. Also, specifically, I always think about how you describe Mal from Arthur's perspective in Presque Vu, that she never "never knew how much money she had." I recall just sitting back and thinking how much that line tells you about the character in such simple language. Love your work!

HAH. I think we all knew that person in school who never know how much money she or he had but was always up for another round of drinks. WHAT MUST YOUR LIFE BE LIKE, PERSON?? 

anonymous asked:

Hi I was wondering if you had any fanfic receomendations, like for anything?

i always rec the same fanfics but they r some good stuff 

jamais vu

zhah´ma voo] the sensation that familiar surroundings are strangely unfamiliar; the illusion that one has never seen anything like that before.    

From Wiki:  “In psychology, jamais vu (/ˈʒɑːmeɪ ˈvuː/; from French, meaning “never seen”) is the phenomenon of experiencing a situation that one recognizes in some fashion, but that nonetheless seems very unfamiliar.

Often described as the opposite of déjà vu, jamais vu involves a sense of eeriness and the observer’s impression of seeing the situation for the first time, despite rationally knowing that he or she has been in the situation before. Jamais vu is sometimes associated with certain types of aphasia, amnesia, and epilepsy.

Jamais vu is most commonly experienced when a person momentarily does not recognise a word or, less commonly, a person or place, that she or he knows. This can be achieved by anyone by repeatedly writing or saying a specific word out loud. After a few seconds one will often, despite knowing that it is a real word, feel as if “there’s no way it is an actual word”.

The phenomenon is often grouped with déjà vu and presque vu, or tip of the tongue.

Image:  lifewithwhiteout.blogspot

Artemis:  Second time in a few weeks that I heard/saw it used.  So…