vinouise



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    “Are you an angel?” Simon blurts before immediately regretting it. It must think he’s stupid, asking something so obvious. 

    The angel pauses, caught off guard, before managing a sputtering response. “What? No. Of course not.” It insists, looking a little flustered. 

    Simon stares at it for a moment before he realizes. “Oh. Sorry.” He says. He’s not supposed to know that, it seems. That’s fine. He can keep a secret.

    OR,
    My take on the "Simon thinks he died and that Grace is an angel" trope, but with the twist that everything Grace does just convinces Simon more that he's right lmao

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    25 Sep 2026

  2. Public Bookmark 22

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    So I wanted to write a quick BloodyMary drabble and I ended up with 75 pages of character study slow burn.
    This is a slow burn romance, and also my theory on how and why Simon became the butcher, and also my essay on the harm of cults, and also my memoir on my aroace experiences, and also a fun exploration of cultural differences/culture shock, and also a love letter to both platonic and romantic relationships (equally important) in media.
    (Also, I was tired of seeing people portray Grace as fragile and Simon as mean. Also I don't think people are portraying them awkwardly enough. Had to put my two cents in.)
    Title from the Dom Fera song. Highly recommend.

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    23 Sep 2026

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    Rocky and Ryland happen upon a bloody submarine in space. When Rocky says he detects another heartbeat, he and Ryland find a man covered in blood inside.

    Things get interesting when the man calls Ryland an angel and doesn't seem keen on letting the nickname go.

    Or, 5 times Simon called Ryland by the wrong name and the one time he got it right

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    22 Sep 2026

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    The thing rises back up with an ungainly lurch, almost careening backwards. It’s another mechanoid but nothing like the Hail Mary units, which have a long-limbed, almost lanky look to them. This thing is big and bulky, made of an unpainted, dull grey metal streaked with rust-orange. Ostensibly iron, but it has to be a stronger alloy to withstand landing like that. A spherical, cage-faced head puts Grace in mind of an old-timey diving suit.

    Is that… it is one of the Consolidation of Iron’s Evangelions. Grace has only seen blurry photos of them, C.O.I. dissuades media coverage. They’re a completely different line to the Hail Marys, apparent competitors, he knows that much, but that’s about it.

    Stratt’s voice is harsh and urgent, “Iron Lung confirmed? Which number is it?”

    “Which number?” Ilyukhina asks as well. “If this is IL-13 come to kill-steal again, I swear to dick, I will end them myself.”

    -

    AKA What if I put Grace and Simon in giant robots and made them fight giant biblical kaiju. And they kiss about it.

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    22 Sep 2026

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    He’s not much of a talker, Grace has quickly discerned, the words he does share are spoken gruffly but quietly, even the gratuitous swearing. More habit than actually irate. Still, Grace is just wondering how to fill the silence without just rambling when Simon cautiously ventures, “Say I’m not dead. Say it is real… why rescue me? Why fix me up?”

    He tilts his head, nonplussed, “Because you were stranded and you were hurt.”

    “That’s not what I’m asking,” spoken through gritted teeth. “At least, at least be honest with me. For what reason? What do you want in return?”

    In his lap, Grace’s fingers flex.

    “I don’t want anything in return,” he says steadily.

    (A bloodymary fix-it fic with extra emphasis on touch starvation, and boy is Grace ravenous.)

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    21 Sep 2026