#Someone write a fic. Or I will perhaps
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do you think hunter ever felt guilty getting a new palisman. Like he has so clearly found so many ways to honor flapjack with the grave and the whole tattoo situation but like do you think he was worried about replacing flapjack when he (presumably) made waffles
#TOH#toh spoilers#it just seems like something he would be worried about#Bcos flapjack was more than a palisman to him yk#Like that bird was family to him that bird got him out of the worst situation of his life#That bird wholeass saved his life in more ways than one like you can’t tell me he’d just be like#Completely content making a new palisman yk#I’m glad he has waffles and I know he loves her to death just like I wonder if it was hard like#Emotionally yk#Someone write a fic. Or I will perhaps#Also I wanna know how the tattoo situation arose#Bcos like yeah they all adored flapjack but hunter was the one like completely devastated by her death and with good reason#But what I’m getting at there is that like#They got the tattoos as a group so like they had to have decided to do that for hunter yk#I wonder how that came up to do it as s group who’s idea it was#I noticed hunters is where his coven sigil used to be maybe he wanted to replace it?#Also magic. Hunter can’t do magic normally like the others can besides the stuff he got from flapjack#Did he lose the ability to use glyphs when the titan died? Does he have to learn new glyphs w luz? Do lily and eda?#Lots of thoughts lots of questions!#Much room for fic and the like
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Rest
Guess what? I've got more Jamil x reader for y'all. You can also find this on ao3. No warnings, just 866 words of kinda fluffy(?) caretaking stuff with gender-neutral reader.
At this point, you know Jamil’s schedule almost as well as he does. So, when you have the chance, you head to Scarabia’s kitchen, hoping to spend some time with Jamil while he and the other students prepare dinner.
However, when you enter, it takes you but a moment to notice Jamil’s uncharacteristic fumbling and the tired look in his eyes. The way Jamil’s chopping the vegetables has you worried about him cutting himself with that knife he’s usually so adept with, and it seems it’s only force of habit that’s keeping him on track.
You frown, and when your eyes meet Jamil’s, you can already see him put his guard up.
So he knows what state he is in, huh? And still, here he is.
It seems Jamil is reading your thoughts, all of him telling you drop it before any words are even said.
At least he still lets you lean in and give a quick kiss to his cheek in greeting.
“Hello love. Do you still have a lot on your agenda for today?” you ask, keeping your tone low for at least some semblance of privacy in the busy kitchen.
“Nothing I can’t handle,” is the response you get.
Of course.
It takes a little more pestering before Jamil actually answers your question. Your lips purse. That list is far too long to your liking.
You take a moment to think, juggling your own plans and to-do list against the urgency of the things Jamil mentioned.
“Will Kalim be eating from that?” you ask, pointing at the food Jamil is preparing.
“Yes.”
“Alright, I won’t be touching that one, then. I’ve gotta do a few things but I’ll be back when you’re done here.”
“Don’t,” Jamil says with a glare, clearly aware of what you’re thinking.
Yet even his disapproving look doesn’t have the usual weight behind it.
“Yes. I will,” you say firmly, even as your heart curls inwards with another bout of concern.
Really, when did he get so tired?
And how did you not notice it earlier?
You leave the kitchen before Jamil can protest further, hurrying through the dorm corridors to find Kalim.
Soon you have an enthusiastic – and concerned – supporter for your plans. You have Kalim point out a few reliable Scarabia students to help with a few of the most urgent matters Jamil mentioned – cleaning up the common areas, delivering some paperwork to Crowley, preparing some dorm-wide notices – while you see to Kalim getting his school supplies in order for the following day. You even recruit a couple of third years to help Kalim with his homework.
You’ll see to the rest tomorrow – after all, you do also have a boyfriend to look after.
Your conversation over dinner can hardly be called anything else than an argument – despite Kalim’s best attempts at acting as a moderating force between you two. It is very tempting to ask Kalim to tell Jamil to take the rest of the day off – it’s not like Jamil would be willing to openly disobey a direct order. Still, you really don’t need to remind Jamil of his position on top of everything else that you’re already doing more or less against his wishes.
Eventually, however, Jamil’s had a square meal, the most urgent things on his to-do list are being taken care of, and you’ve managed to drag him to his bed.
“I really wish you wouldn’t push yourself so hard,” you murmur, your arms wrapped tightly around Jamil. You’re telling yourself you really do just want to cuddle, to offer some respite to Jamil. Still, there might also be a part of you worried that if you were to let go, he’d just jump up and get back to working himself to the bone.
Yet, for all his protestations, just the fact that you’ve gotten Jamil to lay down with you speaks volumes of his current exhaustion.
“I can’t just leave my duties, albi. You know this.”
“Making yourself too indispensable, is what you’re doing,” you protest.
Oh, you know it’s not so simple. Not with his background, not with all the expectations and assumptions.
But sometimes you really wish it would be.
Jamil merely scoffs in response to your words.
Still, it is undeniable that he is slowly beginning to relax in your arms, slowly bringing his head closer to yours. His eyes are starting to flutter, too.
“I will still need to help Kalim with his homework, at the very least.”
You wonder who he is trying to convince more, you or himself.
“Amin and Khalil are helping him. They’re basically top of their classes, aren’t they? I’m sure they’ve got it.”
Still, Jamil frowns.
You sigh. He really is not letting go, is he?
“Do you want me to go supervise?” you ask.
And leave you, unsaid yet hanging there right after your words.
“Don’t,” Jamil eventually says, the word barely more than a breath.
It seems he has accepted his fate.
You softly caress Jamil’s hair, listening to his softening breathing.
And when you wake up, wholly unaware of having been lulled to sleep in the first place, it’s to the lightest of touches from Jamil’s fingers.
Tagging @diodellet @twstgo @crystallizsch @jamilvapologist @jamilsimpno69 as per request If you'd like to be tagged for any future works, let me know!
#twisted wonderland#jamil viper#twisted wonderland x reader#jamil viper x reader#woop it sure has been quite the burst of creative energy lately#especially since this has apparently been sitting in my drafts since last august#but now you have it#I certainly can’t promise to keep up with this rate of writing (in fact I can promise I won't) but hey let's enjoy it while it lasts#and yes I’m hopping on the “jamil using arabic terms of endearment” train#I’ve read so many fics doing that that at this point it feels more natural than english ngl#even if english would probably be more canonical#also is it a *good* way to go about it to just pretty much just force someone to rest like this? probably not#is it sometimes the only way to get stubborn people to stop for a bit? perhaps#and is it something I might do?#...possibly#also oh boy can you tell that I'm avoiding jamil's dialogue like the plague lately?#I really need to reread so much of his stuff to get a hang of his voice again#(also if you notice typos pls tell me because they always bug me)#(or other wonkiness because I'm not a native speaker and sometimes things just go silly)#anyways hope y'all enjoy!
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skill issue honestly, he just needs my love and affection
#dio brando#jojo's bizarre adventure#literally the plot of my fic#jjba#jojo meme#phantom blood#jojo part 1#jojo shitpost#jjba memes#low effort memes#inappropriate use of word art#saw this posted this on a tiktok of someone shipping destiel and pilfered it for my own desires#honestly I don't even think he's a lost cause#people say he's irredeemably evil but I think he just needed to be loved properly#I promise he can be soft#i literally write it all the time#so I'm the expert#future games#i am very normal about him#so very normal#is this a clever plug for my fic?#perhaps
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Thinking about your response to the most recent eye-contact anon has me thinking… Adar would probably go a little insane in an environment where he wasn’t in a position to do anything or enact his usual behaviours of care/order.
Not sure if Mandos operates this way, but imagine:
Dinner? Made by someone else and served.
Dishes? Also taken care of.
Laundry? Don’t worry about it.
Some attendant tries to get Adar to sit down, put his feet up, get some cucumber slices on those eyes. Meanwhile he’s just internally screaming.
bahahahahaha yeah i think Adar would be COMPLETELY unnerved by... really anything that remotely feels like someone taking care of him in any way.
i feel like he's spent his ENTIRE existence just taking care of his kids, putting them first, providing for them. he's self-sufficient AF.
i could actually see (assuming Adar was allowed to leave Mandos) the Valar like, court-mandating him to spend time on Estë's little island to heal... and yeah, i feel like her maiar would take care of EVERYTHING and Adar would just be... bouncing off the walls.
And Estë NEVER loses her temper with anyone, but finally she just has to grab this poor uruk, shake him by the collar and tell him to PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF ERU, SIT DOWN AND DO A MUD MASK OR SOMETHING BECAUSE IT IS RELAXATION TIME ON THE ISLAND AND HE'S RUINING THE VIBE.
#adar#adar asks#adar headcanons#este#i think maybe finally she gives up and calls irmo so that he can just send this guy off to dreamland so he'll finally REST#adar and este would actually be a delightful lil fic to write#perhaps someday...#unless someone wants to run with it#i've seen a lot of adar and nienna (and written it myself) but not so much este?#anyway rambling
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Things that happened in Martyn & Cleo Double Life canon:
Cleo hoping to find her soulmate and start a life with them
Cleo dumping Martyn without giving him a chance to explain his side of the story, but hearing him out when he comes to her later
Martyn watching Cleo through his spyglass and telling the audience she seems safe and happy even though he thinks it's weird she's outside at night
Martyn, after he's had time to consider how he wants to play this, spinning a story about trying to be a provider for her and Cleo explaining that she wanted him, not things
Cleo not being remotely impressed by the "I was providing" sob story, lol
Martyn calling Cleo selfish for choosing to be with Scott because she's supposed to be HIS soulmate and he wants a partner
Cleo willing to forgive Martyn if he meets them halfway
Martyn refusing to meet them halfway because he doesn't think he did anything wrong
Martyn screaming about how Cleo's building bridges with Scott but "When will she think about mending our bridges???"
Martyn explaining to Cleo that he doesn't understand why his Session 1 actions bothered them
Martyn centering his character arc and roleplay on trying to win Cleo back without actually apologizing
Cleo giving Martyn a flower and stating that if he loses it, she'll be real cross with him
Cleo chasing Martyn out of her yard because he tried to put an HOA sign on her base and she wanted to make it clear that she wasn't associated with them and their hate for his base (even though she does think his heart base is strange)
Martyn attacking Cleo after she said attacking is a form of affection to her
Cleo setting boundaries with Martyn and explaining what he can do to get her back
Cleo sighing when Scar set her up on a date with Martyn, but taking the chance to talk to him instead of walking out
Cleo genuinely wanting Martyn in her alliance
Martyn and Cleo giggling constantly when they chat
Scar asking if Martyn wanted him to play a romantic music disc for him and Cleo (and Martyn getting excited and saying yes)
Martyn offering to take Cleo's armor and weapons to the deep dark so he can enchant them and bring them back while she stays safe
Cleo gifting Martyn diamonds, expecting nothing in return but not wanting him to die from lack of a good sword
Martyn and Cleo forming a secret alliance that allows Cleo to live with Scott while being on good terms with Martyn
Martyn expressing frustration that Cleo wants to keep this alliance secret because he wants them to be public allies; Cleo softly shushes him when people approach and might overhear
Martyn telling Cleo that she's putting out a lot of mixed signals because she keeps reeling him in and then pushing him away, claiming he is very confused about where he stands with her
Martyn teasing Cleo by punching her off a cliff and accidentally killing her and feeling so bad about it that he apologizes profusely despite roleplaying as someone who refused to apologize for Session 1
Martyn and Cleo immediately threatening Bdubs together when he said hi to them while they were hanging out, sdkfj
Martyn genuinely apologizing to Pearl for dumping her after Session 1
Martyn hiding under Cleo's bed while she defends him from an enderman attack
Cleo offering to let Martyn move into her house after Etho and Joel grief his base; Martyn saying he might take her up on that
Cleo and Martyn agreeing to move out and base together at Box
Cleo trusting Martyn with the location and resources of her red life base
Martyn rushing to Cleo's aid in the deep dark and trying to turn everyone against him instead
Cleo responding to Martyn's panicked shouts for her to eat by opening her inventory to get food (and drowning because she forgot she was in water)
Cleo hanging back and letting Martyn attack Scott while she does nothing to stop him from doing so, implying as much as she likes Scott, she won't kill Martyn (and herself) for him (and/or she trusted Scott to handle himself even though he ran away while Martyn was shooting at him)
Things that did not happen:
Cleo unwilling to forgive Martyn or consider being his friend and partner
Martyn and Cleo hating each other
Thank you for coming to my TED Talk
#Listen. listen. I understand. but consider... them#Zombiewood#ZombieCleo#Martyn InTheLittleWood#Limited Life canon: Cleo making Martyn godfather to her kids#I 100% support everyone taking their own interpretations from the episodes-#but I often see ''Martyn and Cleo hate each other'' and I wonder ''Did we even watch the same thing?''#and with so many POVs that only see them from the outside perhaps we did not!! So consider... them. Let's rotate them <3#This post is about the sheer amount of 'Martyn dumps Cleo for Ren' fics tagged Martyn/Cleo vs. minimal affectionate fics. help??#also fics where Martyn/Mumbo was canon but Martyn claims he was never attracted to him- only Ren?? Fascinating.#sir can the whole plot be about that because hold up I feel like we should unpack your loveless marriage before you date Ren#I will 100% read a story about you charging into marriage with Mumbo and then going ''Uh I just made a big mistake.'' hilarious#I mean I'm not Ren but if my crush confessed he never loved his husband in the first place I feel like I'd have Questions#To each their own! And I for one greatly enjoy how much Martyn will chase Cleo without humbling himself. lol. idiot. get wrecked.#but just to be clear I am a huge fan of break-up 'fics and choosing to be with someone you want. ergo my interest in Grian/BigB#This post is about Martyn/Cleo and Grian/BigB being fandom rarepairs despite having canon interest in each other#which is 100% fine because everyone should write what they want but!! Come rotate them with me because they are so fun and silly#Grian the man who deliberately cuts comments about Grian/Scar and Martyn/Mumbo from his vids but pursues BigB?? hilarious#In-universe this man went from ''Romance? I do not see it'' to ''Actually I want the cute cookie man'' and took the leap??#Yes king tell me more about this journey of self-discovery. I am aspec-beam'ing you.#Anyway. Need more Martyn/Cleo in my life which is why I'm writing fics of that and other people write fics about what they like <3#but sometimes people don't like it when I pair Martyn and Cleo because ''They hate each other'' and I laugh sfdlkj
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hi GT!
Lionheart had me the moment you kicked it off with “it’s a nice day to start again.” Might i ask why you chose that particular line?
And, if you havent already answered to this emoji:
❄️
P.s: you have my eternal gratitude for creating the most brilliant piece of writing i’ll ever read. I shout about it from the rooftops, share it on my socials, requested my spouse to read it so we may discuss it together (in lieu of a present for my 30th birthday), et cetera.
I see from your URL you are a fellow lad of taste.
There's a couple things going on in the epigraph for Book 1. On one level, it's a lyric from the first muggle song I picture Draco listening to on his walkman at the end of the book, so there's a cute full-circle thing there. The second layer is the theme of change and redemption, which, in Lionheart, doesn't so much come from major moments or self-sacrifice, but from the slow, grueling, everyday work of living, and living better. It's a nice day to start again because every day is. You always have the opportunity to start making better choices, no matter what lies behind you. That's the thesis of any Draco redemption arc, right? You have to imagine that he could have chosen to be better.
And then thirdly, there's the audacity of doing a full Hogwarts canon rewrite, a good 30 years after the original books came out, millions upon millions of words of fanfic later, and basically asking everyone to read the same story they did the first time around, only different. So it's a kind of winking entreaty. It's saying to readers, many of whom are understandably wary of doing it over, zeroing out the characters to starting positions, and starting from the beginning with 11-year-olds all over again. It's going: "hey. That was fun, right? Why not do it again?"
#thank you so much for the compliment -- honestly it's terribly kind#i hope your spouse likes it. for their own sake also because by god that is so much assigned reading#you're iconic for that tbh. all birthdays should come with a syllabus#oh! and ❄️ ⇢ what’s your dream theme/plot for a fic#and who would write it best?#tbh i've wanted someone to write a really good pacific rim AU for years and years#and it has always fallen juuuuust low enough on my writing pile for me to never get around to it#like it's always the thing i want to write 3rd most and i only let myself have 2 projects at a time#not sure who would write that best - I think anyone who loves and Gets the movies#the premise of which is 'what if you and your soulmate could pilot a 50-foot mech by having mindsex so good it killed godzilla?'#and if you don't want to stand up and cheer just thinking about that i don't know what to tell you. perhaps you have never seen a movie#also like it's about love and trust and trauma and healing. AND killing really giant monsters#and it takes itself JUST seriously enough to nail all of that without getting mopey or goofy#movie of all time. someday i will kiss guillermo del toro on the lips#in my (delusional) world his oscar win was actually a belated award for pacific rim.
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I did kind of enjoy the first chapter of Parkinson's Hornblower "biography" because it offered some things that I had either been wondering about or which I thought were delightful little headcanons, but I have to say that since then it has just been making me hate Hornblower an unbelievable amount and/or occasionally go he would not fucking say that
#on another note this is very similar to the little stories on hmssurprise.org in that it gives the vibes of#'someone needs to introduce these guys to the concept of fanfiction'#he's writing his own little stories about hornblower! he's making up theories about his family! girl get on ao3!#it is also like reading a fic in that sometimes you're like 'i'm going to steal that' and sometimes you're like 'he would not say that'#he is making hornblower horrifically ambitious and he's somehow doing maria even dirtier than cs forester if that was even possible#so. y'know. he's taking him in the opposite direction he's making him be exactly what cs forester wanted him to be which is perfect#and him being perfect is absolutely godawful when you don't have his personal torment nexus brain monologue going on over it#perhaps this is a light into the brain of the Boat Dad Experience when reading these books. idk#it does present a fun angle of analysis of his character he is a guy consumed by ambition i'll give him that#i'm not buying all these guys saying he'd end up happy that way though sorry#perce rambles#percy yells at cecil scott#+ bonus yelling at my other pal cyril northcote!#i'll perhaps post stuff i found interesting if other people would like. let me know if you'd want to see that though
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Don't Go Blindly Into the Dark
Summary:
To hide that he can't read, Jan Van Eck has been forcing his son to pretend he's blind since he was eight years old. Wylan is now attending Ketterdam University, and meeting Jesper Fahey may very well be about to change his life. But is he safe to tell Jesper the truth? And what will Jesper say if he does?
Jesper is struggling to weigh up his life in the Barrel and his life at the University of Ketterdam, and there's a good chance that his growing debt is about to make the decision for him. He hasn't attended class consecutively for months, but maybe that will change when his newest project includes partnering up with Wylan Van Eck. But can he really leave the Barrel behind him? And how long can he keep up the pretence of who he thinks Wylan wants him to be?
Tags: @justalunaticfangirl @lunarthecorvus
If anyone else would like to be tagged let me know :)
Content warnings for this chapter: ptsd, wounds, implied violence, implied child abuse
AO3 link
Chapter 22 - Wylan
Jesper was right - talking really was his superpower. If Wylan hadn’t eventually said:
“Jes, don’t you need to go to work?” he wasn’t sure he ever would’ve stopped.
He had encouraged Wylan to drink the tea he’d brought up for him, pressing the warm mug into his hands and guiding Wylan’s fingers to the handle as he chattered, but for the most part Wylan just sat feeling the heat of it between his palms. There were a couple of bread rolls lying on a plate across the room as well, but Jesper hadn’t mentioned them and Wylan wasn’t hungry. Jesper had paused briefly in the middle of a story Wylan wasn’t really listening to when he realised how much time must have passed, because the tea was cold. He was grateful for the sound of Jesper’s voice to occupy his mind even if he wasn’t really listening to what he said, it felt like an anchor keeping him in this room, in this moment. He almost regretted stopping him, but he didn’t want to be the reason Jesper was late or missed work.
“Oh, shoot, yeah,” Jesper laughed, “I can stay, if you want-”
“I’ll be okay,” Wylan breathed, trying to smile, “Really. Thank you, so much,”
“Of course, love,” Jesper stood up and leaned a little closer; Wylan felt himself tense, “You want a new drink?”
He was looking at the half empty mug, its steam long dissipated and its colour fading from the most welcoming sight.
“Oh- it’s alright, thanks,” Wylan let Jesper take the cold tea off him and set it back on the table, “Are you sure it’s okay for me to stay here?”
He didn’t know why he was risking asking - he didn’t have anywhere else to go. But he didn’t want to make Jesper feel like he had to take care of him.
“Of course,” he said, again, “Long as you want. I’ll run and find some dry clothes and then I’ll go,”
Wylan nodded, but even so when Jesper returned and knocked on the door again he felt himself flinch. His breathing grew sharp and one of his hands fumbled to his neck, as if he was still trying to pull Prior’s hands away from his throat. He knew it was just Jesper, he knew that, he knew that. But apparently that wasn’t going to stop his brain from going into overdrive.
“Wylan?”
He couldn’t answer. He couldn’t breathe.
“Wylan, are you okay?”
“Yeah - sorry,” his voice didn’t sound right, “I - sorry -”
“Don’t apologise. I can leave these here for you and you can just get them when you want, or-”
“Uh, no, it’s okay,” Wylan managed, flexing his fingers in and out of his fists, “You can come in. Sorry,”
“Do you know what don’t apologise means?” asked Jesper as the door opened, smiling at Wylan, “Here,”
He tossed a shirt and a pair of trousers, which landed sort of haphazardly on Wylan’s lap as he tried to catch them. He dropped the shirt.
“Sorry, probably should’ve thought that through,” Jesper picked it up and pressed it into Wylan’s hand, “But I think those should fit okay - and there’s a railing on the wall opposite the bed, you can hang your stuff on there to dry,”
Wylan nodded.
“Thank you,”
“Yeah of course - okay, I’ve gotta run or I’m gonna be late, are you sure you’re okay on your own?”
Wylan just nodded again.
He had been glad to sit with Jesper for a while, listening to whatever he’d been talking about without really taking it in, but he was glad to have a little time for himself as well.
Jesper’s room could only be described as chaotic. The bed was unmade, the pillows in disarray and the duvet falling half onto the floor where the corner drooped into a pile of discarded clothes. The table where Wylan’s cold tea and the little bread rolls were sitting in wait was also decorated by several other used cups and plates, some stacked on top of each other and some shoved to one side to make space for the ones Jesper had brought up earlier. It wasn’t a big space but there was a window that peered onto the street below and, if Wylan’s sight hadn’t been blurry, would have given him the vaguest hint of the canal behind the next few buildings, with frayed curtains that had clearly faded from whatever colour they were once supposed to be. Other than the faded curtains Jesper’s room was actually very colourful, like it was impossible for him to own more than one item in the same shade. Wylan turned back from the window, fingers brushing the sill and spilling dust onto the floor. He brushed his hand down the leg of the trousers he’d just changed into, trying to get the remnants off himself, and then picked up his dripping clothes and pushed one of Jesper’s waistcoats to the end of the little railing so there was space to hang them over it.
The room was definitely chaotic, but that made it feel real. Lived in. Wylan’s room at home could have belonged to pretty much anyone if you didn’t know it was his, but this place looked like it actually belonged to someone. Or like someone actually belonged here.
It took him a few minutes to convince himself to open his satchel; he wasn’t sure why it felt like he couldn’t do it, but if he left it where it was the water would end up ruining Jesper’s already slightly dodgy floorboards and all of Wylan’s things would be ruined. He wondered what his father had done with the trunks that were supposedly being sent after him, and had to suddenly pinch his nose and swallow hard to try and keep from throwing up.
Everything in his satchel was soaked through. He had to wring his favourite jumper out over the window ledge before he put it onto the railing with everything else because the wool was holding so much water, and he was pretty sure the shape was all warped and ruined but he was trying to convince himself away from thinking about it. It was an incredibly stupid thing to be concerned about right now, but it was his favourite jumper and it was probably ruined and it was making him want to cry. And what about everything in his trunk? His clothes, his shoes, everything - even the sheet music he’d managed to keep hidden in his wardrobe for so long… all of it must be gone. He’d taken his flute out of his jacket pocket when he hung it over the railing, but now he didn’t really have anywhere else to put it except back into his sopping wet bag and that didn’t seem very practical. He stood in the centre of Jesper’s room, holding his almost definitely ruined flute, staring at his almost definitely ruined jumper, his hair still wet and the goosebumps on his arms still shivering beneath the too-long sleeves of his borrowed shirt. He hoped it was borrowed, anyway, though walking through this building had set him on a pretty certain path that this was probably stolen.
There were still loud noises chattering through from downstairs and the rooms either side of this one; conversations that were either mostly unintelligible or didn’t make sense to Wylan. There was a couple arguing in the room next door, sounding like they were on the verge of throwing things at each other, and a couple in the room above who were definitely doing something else. Wylan stared at the ceiling for a moment - it’s half six in the morning! - and then shook himself back to his senses. It was like he’d fallen into another world, some kind of mad mirror dimension of the city that he’d thought he knew, and he had no idea how to function here. He wished he’d drunk all of his tea; he wasn’t going to dare venturing anywhere else to get a new one. He settled for the water flask that he’d set on the floor when he took it out of his satchel, running his fingers along the newly acquired dents in the metal.
Jesper was only gone for about two hours. Wylan paced around the room, finished all the water in his flask, convinced himself to rip an edge of one of the bread rolls. He caught himself in the smudgy mirror and realised there were bruises growing on his throat. He pulled his collar up, as if that would be enough to hide them, and hoped that Jesper wouldn’t notice.
The sounds of the house were relentless and every single one of them was someone coming to find him, Prior or Miggson ready to finish the job. By the time Jesper returned, Wylan was sitting between the wall and the foot of the bed, with knees pulled to his chest, his flute clutched loosely between his fingers. The wood was warped. It was useless.
“Wylan?”
Wylan jumped. He hadn’t heard Jesper come in.
“Oh, is this the famous flute?” Jesper grinned as he sat down in front of Wylan, apparently not caring to question what he was doing sitting on the floor, “Do I get to hear you play?”
“It’s ruined,” Wylan mumbled, without looking up, still running his fingers over the misshapen wood.
He was an idiot. If he had just left his flute in his bag, tucked it safely into its case, it probably wouldn’t have been quite so far beyond repair. It might have survived. But he’d wanted it in his jacket, he’d wanted to be able to feel it and know that it was there for what? He couldn’t even describe the nervousness he knew he would’ve felt in its absence. He had a vague memory of going travelling somewhere once, he didn’t remember where and he’d only been a small child, and checking his bag every few minutes as though all of his belongings might have vanished the moment he looked away. That one stuck out, other than all the other travels he had once been happily - even excitedly - welcomed on by his father, because by whatever age he was then he’d had his first flute and it was sitting in that bag, on the verge of disappearing every few seconds if he didn’t keep an eye on it. Keep it safe and close and in a strange way almost secret. So what? For some stupid sentimentality or foolish, entirely impractical and irrational fear, Wylan had destroyed his flute. He may as well have clung to it so tightly that his fingers snapped it in half, for all the infuriating irony was not lost on him, and he wanted to scream his frustration and his loss. But he just carried on sitting there, running his fingers over the ruined flute, grieving for something that had never been alive in the first place.
“Oh, Wy, I’m so sorry…” Jesper’s voice felt distant.
Wylan just shrugged.
“I shouldn’t care this much,” he whispered, “Not… not about this, of all things this is what’s…”
He couldn’t finish the thought; he just shook his head. The pain in his chest had only slightly released since crawling out of the canal hours ago, and he felt nerves rising as he wondered if Jesper could see his bruises. He had to hold himself back from fidgeting with his collar.
“Wylan, you’re allowed to be upset about-”
“Don’t,” he whispered.
He couldn’t talk about it. He shouldn’t have mentioned it. Jesper shuffled, but he didn’t say anything. Wylan felt his hand wanting to drift to his shirt collar again and tightened his grip on his flute. Trying harder to hide them was only going to draw Jesper’s attention to the bruises.
“That wasn’t a long shift,” he said, eventually, when the quiet - not silence, apparently there was never silence here - got too much.
“I just sorted out a deal with them,” said Jesper, smiling, “So you weren’t stuck here alone for ages,”
Wylan nodded.
“Where do you work?”
There was brief pause, before Jesper ventured:
“At a bar,”
He didn;t sound entirely convinced about his own statement, but who the hell was Wylan to call someone out for lying?
“I, erm…” Jesper hesitated, then began again talking so quickly it was like his own words - or perhaps his thoughts - were overlapping each other, “I know someone, who I think you should talk to. I mean - well, he wants to meet you so if you want to - tomorrow, you don’t have to like now, I mean…”
He trailed off for a moment, then said more succinctly:
“You can stay here tonight and I’ll get out of your way, but if you’re feeling okay tomorrow then there’s this guy I work with, Kaz - he’s my boss. He’d like to talk to you,”
Wylan leaned back, feeling tension run through his shoulders.
“Why?”
“He’s hoping you’ll make a deal with him - you don’t have to, okay, but if you just have a conversation with him he might be able to help you out,”
“Help me out?” asked Wylan, raising an eyebrow, “By making a deal? You sure you’re not talking about the devil, here?”
Jesper laughed.
“You might be more accurate in that than you want to be, Wylan,” he laughed again, “But he probably can help you, and you can probably help him. Look, if you just talk to him - and I can be there too, if you want me to - you don’t have to agree to anything. But he might be able to help you make some money, maybe even… I dunno, but he could get you a job, I’m sure,”
The actual practicality of everything hadn’t quite dawned on Wylan until now. He was alone - or almost alone, anyway - in the Barrel, his father had tried to have him killed and may very well believe him drowned, he had no money but a couple of very wet kruge notes, and no skills or methods of income whatsoever. He would have to find a job somewhere; would have to do something to survive. And Jesper had said he could stay here, but he could hardly do that forever could he? He needed money, he needed somewhere to live, he… he needed to at least survive this part, if he would have any hope of ever figuring out the next.
“Okay,” he murmured, eventually, “I’ll talk to him,”
#(btw yes the flute is partially a metaphor for his father’s love)#perhaps a slightly random thing to drop in the tags but I needed someone to know#have a wonderful day#six of crows#grishaverse#crooked kingdom#wylan van eck#jesper fahey#inej ghafa#kaz brekker#nina zenik#leigh bardugo#matthias helvar#don't go blindly into the dark#ao3#ao3 fanfic#ao3 writer#fanfic#fanfic writing#archive of our own#wesper fanfiction#wesper fic#soc fandom#soc fic#soc fanfiction#six of crows fandom#six of crows fanfic#six of crows fic#grishaverse fanfic#grishaverse fandom
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I'm at the painful "confession" scene during the kage summit arc. It really is so emotional, but also... hm.
When I was younger, like 13 or so, I was a big Sakura and Naruto shipper. They were the first pairing I read fanfic for even. And in a way, I do still enjoy the two of them together... but it's moments like these that really drive home the fact that it Doesn't really work in canon. Not the way that it's set up.
As Sakura puts it, "Sasuke, Sasuke, Sasuke! That's all you think about!"
She's told that Naruto has feelings for her and decides to use it to convince him to stop going after Sasuke. She does love him, but not in the way she's trying to confess. The love they share is one of comradery, not necessarily romantic. The love of two people who have gone through such pain together, and who have leaned on each other throughout it all. And the fact that she's turning around and saying she loves him "simply like everyone else", now... it's trivializing. And the fact that she's trying to convince him of this, the fact that she thinks she Can convince him of this, is pretty hurtful. They've come a long way from when they were kids, Naruto the goofball vying for her attention while she yelled at him for being stupid. Sakura respects Naruto so much more than before, and Naruto respects her too. So the fact that she's still doing this... She's desperate, really. She thinks the promise he made to her to bring Sasuke home is what's driving him to let himself be hurt over and over and over again in the pursuit and protection of Sasuke.
But she's wrong.
That may be part of it, but it's only part. Naruto wants Sasuke back for himself, too. He let himself be beat up to avoid selling him out. He chases after him with single minded determination. Sasuke is his entire drive to get stronger, to catch up, to bring him home. Sasuke, Sasuke, Sasuke indeed.
As it is, Naruto knows she's lying to herself. And no matter what she says, he will keep going after Sasuke. Because that's just the person that Naruto is.
#speculation nation#fanny watches naruto#i think. naruto and sakura could potentially work out... but probably in a poly kind of situation.#because naruto will never forget about sasuke. and tbh neither will sakura. at least in canon.#of course i think sakura would do well to end up with someone more level headed. like ino.#someone without all the Complications that those two have...#but at the same time. i still do really love the idea of two people supporting one another through thick and thin.#i like naruto and sakura as a pairing of mutual respect. which is why it doesnt truly work as it is in canon.#especially when it comes to things like the 'joke' punches. but that's Everywhere in this anime.#female characters' anger being turned into jokes. theyre 'scary' but its not Actually scary.#naruto taking punch after punch from her for being foolish. yet it's all just a joke.#tbh id want to do away with that trope entirely. sakura has a temper but she's a good person. a kind soul.#i dont like that kishimoto has her being casually abusive with one of her best friends.#yet another part of the misogynistic writing that i hate.#sure enough. as it is in canon it just doesnt work. but ykno what. 13 year old me is still here. and wants to think of a way that it Could.#all things to think about. i wonder if there is any poly fic with the 3 of them. theres Gotta be.#though that brings the question of whether it'd even fit my ideal concept of the 3 of them.#it's certainly not the popular kind of thing lol. most people pick one of the three pairings between them.#but ya kno what. ive always been a multishipper. and poly ships really enable that truth of mine.#maybe i'll look for some poly fic sometime. just to see if theres anyone doing it like id wanna see.#if it's just two guys fighting over one girl or something tho im Outta there.#and ALSO theres something to be said for sasuke and sakura's relationship when they were kids.#there was trust there. confiding. he respected her. & in the end. he thanked her for her care.#cant be Just the two of them tho. for me. bc that erases naruto's significance to them both.#it is perhaps another thing i'll want to write someday. just maybe.
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Are the words in Max's wrist "Il predestinato"? 'Cause I was a bit confused at the end
Hi anon! I appreciate my Lestappen soulmate fic leaves a LOT unsaid so let do a quick run down.
So in this AU words on people's wrist don't necessarily lead them to people, but rather sort of give a person some sort of clue as to their life path, and it could be good or bad or just neutral. So Max's parents both have matching marks of '33' which they believe refer to each other but in reality refer to Max (a self-fulfilling prophecy, since Max later chooses his racing number based on his parents' mark). Daniel has a McLaren race car (which will be explored in detail in Part II trust me), and all that really means is that a McLaren race car represents something about his life path. Charles has the number 16, which he later chooses as his racing number because it's on his wrist. But soulmarks are deliberately vague and confusing in this universe and could refer to multiple aspects of a person's life.
The words on Max's wrist are "for rarely man escapes his destiny" (the fic title). From a VERY young age Max has been told by people around him that his mark refers to his giftedness at racing, so by the time he's an adult he's pretty much certain that all it means is that he's destined to be world champion. However, yes, Charles then being referred to as Il Predestinato by the press sends Max into a panicked spiral, half because Max is jealous and terrified that Charles will 'steal' his destiny from him (especially after the back-to-back wins in Spa and Monza in 2019) but also because well, if Charles is the embodiment of destiny, what does that imply for Max and the words on his wrist telling him for rarely man escapes his destiny"?
There is a Part II coming and I hope to make some of these ideas a little clearer there! But thank you for reading nonetheless, it means so much to me <3
#max's words were very very specifically chosen so there's an ambiguous double meaning max is foiled by his black and white thinking though#this was one of my favourite fics to write but perhaps it did need a beta although someone in the comments did guess a twist for pt 2#i did hide the comment for spoiler reasons i'll reinstate it once pt 2 is up#for rarely man escapes his destiny#lestappen
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There's this thing, sometimes, when reading fic - not shitfic, because I do read that and I know what to expect from it, but fic with actual thought and nuance, which cares about exploring trauma and fucked up emotional consequences, evenwhen when they're ugly and uncomfortable and awful -, when you realise that while the fic is willing to have the protagonists be angry but get over it with some characters, they just refuse to with others. And it can make sense to a degree - there's always one character that gets under another's skin, and there's gonna be some disagreements that just, due to individual perspectives, are that much harder to overcome. Even though having them work through it - having a character admit how and when and where they fucked up, and how severely, and the degree to which they recognise this, the internal complex, contradictory fuckery - can be fun! Can be nuanced and messy and delicious.
Then you see the fic says "[X Character] Bashing" and you realise you're never gonna get that. That those crunchy, messy, complex, fun scenes in your head? Will never leave it, because the author has decided that while they'll put in all this engaging messy nuance for (so far) literally every other character... for this single one, a flat one-sided view of a character is all they can be arsed to write.
I dunno, yeah, it's fic and you can write what you like, but bashing has always felt incredibly, astoundingly lazy to me.
#i want characters to be interesting!#not flat on-sided cardboard cutouts!#let a character admit that they fucked up!#that they did something out of selfish obsessive sort-of-love for someone#not out of love for the person as their own individual#but out of a love for what the person means to them#have them admit that and that because they felt they FAILED that person in some way they're doing something else#which they hate and feel complex conflicted resentment over#because they blame this other thing as a sign of their failure and what they think they've lost#and NO it doesn't make sense - but when do emotions ever!#and giving them that nuance#having the protagonists understand this hated character#give them better comprehension perhaps even some empathy...#but in no way help them forgive - if anything make them more disgusted and disappointed by them!#THAT IS CRUNCHY#THAT IS FUN#THAT IS FUCKED UP AND AWFUL#character bashing is a fucking DETRIMENT to nuanced and engaging writing#and i will never not be mad that some people choose the lazy way out#fic things#writing things#fandom things#tag meta#my meta#kinda
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Will you please please please make a part two to “you’re alright where you are” on AO3. The ending was too sad and I physically can’t take it.
Per my doctor I'm not allowed to write happy endings my b king
#MORE IN COMMENTS. but in short:#Sorryyyy I love when people are sad. perhaps one day I'll write something more for them but I kinda summed up all my feelings there.#I mean kinda. I really want to explore the depths of petya's religious guilt in opposition of andrei's seeming lack of it. he is very much#an ideal for Pyotr... a role model since they were younger... the bigger and stronger and much more capable kid.... a more natural talent.#a more natural ability to draw people to him. a good skater from the day he touched the ice. fine not that dramatic. but you get it. there#just can't really exist a happy ending for them in my mind without a really long and extensive period of growth where Petya digs out of the#cultural ideas of homosexuality and religion he was raised in. he is a DEVOUT Russian Orthodox Christian and just speaking from#personal experience. that is not something you can just shake off. it takes years of unconditioning a deeply rooted hatred and borderline#disgust to reach something even vaguely resembling acceptance and I skipped over ALL of that in that fic. I wanted to go in depth but I als#wanted to keep it under like. 10k words. my point is that I just don't see it with them. I don't see a happy ending that doesn't take years#if not a decade+ of personal growth and change. and this isn't me saying Petya is homophobic in real life or that all Russians are this is#me saying that he is incredibly religious just. as a person. and as someone who was also raised in that even to a lesser degree. it is TOUG#to accept yourself after you've been poisoned that deeply. and I just cant hand a happy ending over to them that would be satisfying to me.#ask#luhayesea
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chapter 2 of the luxuria triplicate side story is up! this one is suggestive but not explicit, has some vague mentions of child abuse/neglect.
#rotpeach writes#luxuria triplicate#might end up with 4 chapters rather than 3 depending on how this last one goes#PAGING VERY KIND ANON im not responding to your ask because im just gonna keep it thank you so much! ;v;#even though ive been posting for a while now it still really warms my heart whenever someone says theyre enjoying my work#special shoutout to the brave souls reading my warhammer fics without knowing what warhammer is#so far theyre all just alien invasion stories but the aliens are giant humans with a superiority complex#but in the future perhaps i can offer you psychic vampire space elves only time will tell
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this is what happens to dca fic writers
#dont question the mosquito#it was for an art request#that i have yet to begin because i already have two others#anyways i never got a straight answer so can someone pls help#yk those scenes in fics where itll say “the fans turned on” after an emotional moment or smth#if sun was perhaps very angry would his fans turn on afterwards#do they even have fans#trying to make this make sense but i urrghgghghhh#somebody fucking help me#fnaf daycare attendant#fnaf dca#fnaf sun#fnaf fic#fnaf fanfic#fanfic wip#wip#ao3 wip#fic writing#dca fandom
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I'm dying, I had another fandom breakup several years ago where I also poured my frustration into a deeply pornographic fic.
The main differences are:
different fandom, obviously
this was actually one of the last fics I ever wrote for that fandom, it really was a kiss off. the only fics I posted after it were just me finishing up some prior obligations.
I actually wrote it and posted it, as opposed to the pornographic vent fic I was writing for wwdits that I set aside for now.
I APPARENTLY POSTED IT TO TUMBLR FIRST?
I know this because someone just reblogged it (and said some really kind things, thank you ;;) and I had completely forgotten that I'd been so deep in my fit of pique that I was like "well this is vent fic that I wrote to cope with my frustration towards canon, not REAL fic, so I should post it to tumblr, not AO3."
At first I was just laughing over the sheer timing of it all, someone digging up this ancient post with like 25 notes from many years ago the exact same week that I'm having angst over the fandom I replaced the old one with, but then I actually clicked on the post in my notifications and was like.
wait.
did I.... post a sixteen-thousand-word fic to tumblr?
I DID. AND PEOPLE READ IT??? like that's the fucking wild part, that people were willing to sit down and read a fucking sixteen-thousand-word fic under a read more on tumblr. people were so strong back then.
(thankfully, I was convinced to crosspost it to AO3 a few days later, which actually made the fucker readable.)
the sheer ridiculousness of my tantrum (and my weird internal classification for what fic "deserved" to be on AO3 vs. what should just quietly be forgotten on tumblr) has me laughing. which I think was actually kind of needed, haha. we all need to laugh at our own fandom angst sometimes.
if I do end up finishing and posting the wwdits ventfic, I promise I'll actually post it on AO3. lmao
#writing liveblogging#kind of wild how my nandermo sex pollen/potion fic morphed over the course of the season in my head#from a silly 'oh we thought we were dosed with sex pollen so we've been fucking for two weeks but it actually wore off after an hour' fic#to a fic about what you do when you realize the truth about your relationship#and what it means to hold a secret that will destroy everything you love#(i.e. mirroring Guillermo finding out they've been fucking because they're into each other not because they were drugged#and the vampire bite secret)#and finally becoming a fic about struggling to forgive someone who wronged you even if they didn't mean to#and how knowing what you don't want isn't the same thing as knowing what you do want#and ultimately a lot of makeup sex#and a relationship that is severely damaged but perhaps salvageable#I HAVE GROWN... AND SO HAS THIS FIC... lmao#but I realized I was just stressing myself out more so instead I drank some pumpkin beer and wrote meta for another show#and downloaded phoenix wright#and here we are#maybe I'll finish it once I've chilled out some and maybe I won't#that's life I guess
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*looking right at my hoshina reqs and hyoga wips* I should write for kuroda yukinari.
#guys its not even my bad hes SO GORGEOUS#IM SORRY HES SO#ONE CHANCE#sorry it absolutely is my bad but it is just not within my control i fear#hes from yowamushi pedal SOMEONE PLEASE WATCH PLEASE WATCH PLS PLS PLS#PLS#I BEG OF YOU#IT IS SO GOOD#HEAD IN HANDS#kuroda yukinari. lets date.#OMG IHAVENT CHECKED THE TAG PERHAPS THERE WILL BE MORE THAN MY TWO KURODA FICS UNDER THE TAGS NOW#if i write for him enough will taht convert some of you to ywpders#will u watch to get me to SHUT UP
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