#and since i read the fic and had posted something recently it's...very apparent

[caelysiiium]

is it just me or is someone abusing the change pub date function on tanfang/we are ao3

[dragonfly0808]

Katniss as an almost Covey

So I’m re-reading the Hunger Games before reading Sunrise on the Reaping and I’m currently re-reading TBOSAS and since Mockingjay I was struck by the idea of like-

What if Katniss aside from hunting also sang for a living? What if her dad left behind some guitar or smth and she almost accidentally started performing to make some extra money?

I also really wanted to write a ‘it would’ve happened anyway’ style Everlark fic and so I just kinda wrote smth and I have ideas for a few other chapters and so- Here goes!

I’ll prob post this on AO3 later on

(I know there are plot holes about where the clothes came from but sssshhhhhhhhhh)

***

Katniss would’ve never thought in a million years that she might make more money out of her voice than her hunting game.

The whole thing started by accident. She’d been hanging out with Madge, who’d recently started inviting her over and they tended to do their homework in her bedroom, Katniss taking the desk and Madge the bed.

On one said day, it’d gotten late as Madge gently asked about the woods, going silent as they often did to finish up their homework. It’d been so peaceful and the view of the sunset from the window had unlocked something in Katniss and, believing Madge was slowly dozing off, she’d started humming and then she’d sung for a bit.

Katniss had gotten through two songs as she finished her last assignment before realizing Madge had been watching her, instantly gushing about how she hadn’t known she had a beautiful voice and a soothing tone, Katniss tried to dismiss it but Madge had said she should perform for a pay, betting there were people willing to pay her to sing.

The idea had seemed ridiculous to her, that anyone in Twelve would be willing to pay for something as unnecessary as a song.

Then the following day Madge had told her about some kind of party the Mayor was putting together and how he wished to have some entertainment, Katniss was pretty sure Madge had been the one to suggest maybe trying to find entertainment, and had simply told her he’d be willing to pay if she could put together a performance that lasted half an hour.

Katniss had been more than ready to shoot Madge’s offer down when Madge had told her what the tentative pay would be.

It wasn’t a fortune, or anything out of this world.

But it might just be enough to buy Prim the new shoes she needed without having to sacrifice half her game of the week.

So Katniss had said she’d consider it.

And once she got home, she steadied herself before reaching to the very back of their small closet and pulling out a dusty guitar case she hadn’t dared touch since her dad had passed away.

As she tuned the guitar and clumsily tried to remember the chords her dad had once taught her, her mother had stepped into the room, pale at the sound of music.

They’d stared at each other for a long moment. And then-

“I uh… apparently the Mayor is doing some event for some of the merchants or something like that… Madge said he might pay me if I… sang for them.”

“…oh, I see. Will you do it?”

Katniss shrugged, “The pay would be good. And spring is barely starting…” they both knew that meant less game to eat and trade, it would take a few more weeks for all the animals to fully come out of hibernation of berries and fruits to grow in full again, “might do it as a one time thing.”

Her mother nodded along, hesitating before leaving, saying she needed to get something.

Prim sat excitedly at the end of the bed as Katniss managed to recall a few songs on the guitar, as a kid she’d mostly watched her dad whenever he played the guitar. She was surprised at how much she remembered and, after a few failed attempts and having to readjust her grip on the guitar, how she could pull together decent sounding chords, her voice slowly becoming stronger as the minutes went on.

Her mother returned with a box leaning against her hip, seeming nervous as she placed it on her bed, opening it and stepping back, “For you Katniss. If you’re going to… perform… you should look the part.”

Katniss frowned, caught off guard before setting the guitar aside and approaching, looking into the box and-

“Oh they’re so pretty!” Prim rushed forward, pulling out one of the dresses within the box.

They were unlike anything Katniss had ever seen in District Twelve, full of color and ruffles and embroidery and layers.

She dared reach out and carefully run a hand over the rainbow ruffles that made up the skirt of one of the dresses.

These were not merchant dresses.

“What… where did these come from?” She questioned.

Her mother hesitated for a moment, “They were from a few girls from your dad’s family. They were in… storage.”

Katniss frowned at that, “Dad’s family?”

“A few of them were singers, performers… maybe these will help you feel more comfortable singing.”

Katniss fully turned at that, “Dad’s family were singers?”

“…yes. But that was a lifetime ago.” She trailed off as she watched Prim place a too-long dress against her chest, spinning to see the skirt flutter, “You should have them… even if you don’t wind up singing.”

Katniss took a moment, she was working on letting her mom do stuff for her… and these dresses were a part of her dad’s legacy, what little was left of it that wasn’t coal dust and fiery nightmares.

“Thanks mom. But… I think I’d look a bit ridiculous.”

“You’d look beautiful!” Prim said earnestly, “And I could do your hair! And you could use berries and bugs to make some rouge!”

“How do you know about rouge? Anyway- that’d be a waste-”

“Come on!” Prim pleaded, “It’ll just be once! Please?”

Katniss sighed heavily, going to stare at the dress Prim had just laid on the bed.

***

“I look ridiculous.” Katniss grumbled as her mom finished doing her hair and Prim carefully applied a little bit of rouge to her cheeks and lips.

“You look really pretty.” Said Prim, so honestly and earnestly, Katniss nearly believed it.

She stood up, stepping back to try and get a full body view in the small mirror, “Well there goes my dignity.”

It wasn’t that bad all things considered.

She’d chosen some of the least eccentric pieces in the box, a long purple skirt with a dark blue checkered pattern, a white blouse and a black over-shirt with flowers embroidered in the collar, brown detailing along the pockets.

Madge had lent her a nice pair of boots since apparently her own hunting boots wouldn’t make the cut, her mom had braided half her hair up to keep it out of her face and form a braid crown and Prim had fortunately showed restraint with the rouge she’d made out of herbs and berries, so her lips and cheeks were only slightly tinted, barely enough to be noticeable but enough to bring some color to her face.

She didn’t look as dumb as she’d feared. But it was still… very different to say the least.

Prim frowned, “Don’t say that! You look pretty. And mom said this is how dad’s family used to dress for their shows.”

“It’s gonna be eight songs, that hardly counts as a show.”

“But you’ll still be performing.” Her mom gently told her as she reached out to adjust her blouse and the black shirt on top, moving her skirt for some reason Katniss couldn’t fathom, “And your sister is right, you do look very pretty.”

Katniss sighed heavily but pulled back on her groaning and moaning. They’d both done their best to help her and make her look her best and it’d been Katniss who’d accepted the offer and had signed the death certificate of her dignity.

She carefully slung her dad’s old guitar over her shoulder and went to leave, doing her best to keep her head high and not act any differently as she made her way out of the Seam, sensing a few confused glances shot her way but ignoring them.

She was doing this for Prim.

She was doing this because if the Mayor was dumb enough to pay her for singing, then she should take advantage of that.

And also, it was better to show up looking just a little bit ridiculous than to show up looking obviously Seam, since this was some kind of gathering of the better-off folks of District Twelve.

At least they couldn’t say she hadn’t made an effort.

As she was about to cross into the merchant square-

“Catnip!” She turned to see Gale running towards her, a frown on his face and a game bag slung over his shoulder, “What are you wearing? What are you doing?”

Katniss rolled her eyes as she went to continue her walk, “I told you I was doing a job.”

“What kind of job has you dressing up like… that?”

Katniss felt herself blush, feeling twice as ridiculous just as she’d started to enjoy the feeling of the skirt swirling around her legs, “I’m gonna sing at the Mayor’s party.”

“…you’re what?”

“Madge heard me sing and the Mayor wanted entertainment and offered a good pay.” She said defensively, “That’s it.”

“And the dress?”

Katniss gritted her teeth together, “It belonged to some aunt or cousin of my dad’s. Not like I could show up in my usual hunting gear.”

Gale paused, scoffing, “…and the rouge?”

Katniss stopped, turning to him, “It’s a performance Gale. I have to look the part.”

Gale shook his head, “So now you’re ready to be a dancing monkey for the merchants? Sorry- a singing monkey?”

Katniss scoffed, “Well sorry that I want to make sure my sister gets to have new shoes. It’s a good pay for half an hour of singing, I’d be stupid to turn it down over pride.”

“Pride is pretty much all we got!” Gale argued.

Katniss turned away, “I’m gonna be late.” She ignored him trying to call her back, if he had a problem with this he could have a fit about it by himself.

She knew he held some resentment towards the merchants for having it just a little bit easier than them, for not having to brave the mines. 

But he still traded plenty with them.

She didn’t see how this was any different.

Aside from the possible public humiliation if it went wrong.

And the fact that she was now ‘entertainment’. 

And that she was selling so called ‘talent’ and not a physical thing.

…this had been a bad idea.

Katniss tried to calm herself down as she arrived to the Mayor’s house, being let in by a Peacekeeper after she explained why she was there, hands sweating as she was led to a room next to the bigger room where the party was taking place, since she didn’t want to go in until it was time to take the stage-

Oh was there going to be an actual stage? She hadn’t even thought to ask- why hadn’t she asked?! Why had she agreed to this, it’d been idiotic.

She shut the door behind her, leaning against it and trying to breath and-

“Katniss?”

…no.

Absolutely not.

This had to be some kind of nightmare.

Katniss took in the room. 

It was a small room, probably meant for storage. There were coats that clearly belonged to the guests, a few plates and glasses that were probably extras, some kind of old banner and standing next to a cart with a box-

The boy with the bread, watching her with an odd look on his face.

“What are you doing here?” It came out more aggressive than she meant it to, but she was confused, why on earth would he be here? She was sure his family wasn’t part of the Mayor’s inner circle.

The Mellarks might’ve been merchants but they weren’t amongst the top families of District Twelve.

Peeta watched her for another moment, eyes dropping to her skirt before he cleared his throat, “I uhh…” he lifted the cover that was on the cart next to him, revealing a two-story cake with white frosting and intricate blue flowers, “Delivery- they asked if I could stay to help with the cutting.”

Of course, it was a party, the Mayor could afford a cake for his guests.

“…it’s pretty.” Katniss said, unsure of what else to say.

Peeta gave her a small, bashful smile, “Thanks.”

“…you frosted it?”

Peeta shrugged as he carefully placed the cover back, “I frost all the cakes.” He glanced her way, hesitating before speaking, “What are you doing here? I don’t see your game bag.”

Katniss sighed heavily, looking down, “The Mayor wanted entertainment… I’m going to sing.”

Peeta righted up at that, “Oh, that’s great. I uh… I remember you have a beautiful voice.”

She frowned, “When have you heard me sing?”

He half winced as he looked down, going to rub the back of his neck, “I uh… I remember you singing once in school. It was a long time ago, we must’ve been like- six maybe but… I remember.”

“…oh.” Katniss remember it then, a moment she hadn’t thought of in years, before her dad had passed and she’d have to learn how to survive without him.

The very first day of school.

How did he remember that?

Katniss went to fidget with her skirt, unsure of what to do, catching Peeta watching her, eyes carefully going over her hair and the dress.

She shook her head, “I know. I look ridiculous.”

“What- no! No you… I’m not sure I’ve ever seen so much color in Twelve… if you don’t count the Capitol reaping lady. It’s nice.”

Katniss half snorted, looking down as she smoothed out the skirt, “If you think this is colorful you should’ve seen the other dresses… not that it’ll be much help… pretty sure I’m about to make a fool of myself.”

She wasn’t exactly sure why she was confiding in him, maybe it was because he’d already seen her at her most vulnerable, so who cared if a few words managed to slip through her defenses.

Peeta gave her a small smile as he stepped closer, “Pretty sure you couldn’t look a fool even if you tried. I’m sure you’ll be great.”

“Don’t put too much faith in me, I might just bolt for the door as soon as I step on stage.”

“If you want I can knock the cake over, give them a distraction so you can run.”

Katniss chuckled at that, raising an eyebrow, “You’d do that?”

He shrugged, “It gets boring standing around waiting to cut slices, could be entertaining. And if I time it just right I could topple it over the Mayor himself.”

Katniss laughed at the mental image, Peeta joining in.

“As tempting as the offer is… I gave Madge my word.”

Peeta nodded once, understandingly, “Well if you change your mind just give me a sign and I’ll try to give you an out.”

She found herself going to smile.

The door open and Madge peeked in, brightening up when she saw Katniss, “Hey! You start in ten, Peeta could you please bring the cake in to start giving out slices?”

“Yeah of course.” Peeta went to wheel the cart out as Madge hurried to the stairs, saying something about checking in on her mom. He hesitated, stopping next to her, “I meant what I said, you’ll be great. And… just for the record… you look beautiful.”

He stepped out before she could reply, her cheeks burning.

Katniss shook her head, trying to center herself.

Peeta was just being nice. That was all, it didn’t mean anything. It shouldn’t have made her feel so… so much.

She took a moment to make sure her guitar was properly tuned and that she remembered all the chords she would need before Madge gently told her it was time.

In the end, there were about thirty-five people in the room, sitting in a few tables. The stage was really more of a step a few inches above the rest of the room, Katniss walking around the edge of the room to reach it and the lonely mic that’d been set up for her.

She could feel all eyes on her, all unsure what to expect as she cleared her throat and tried to ignore the panic trying to bloom in her chest.

As she found herself forgetting the first words of her first song… and then she met a pair of blue eyes, Peeta was slicing the cake, taking a moment to meet her gaze, eyes soft but attentive, waiting.

Her fingers changed the chord she’d been ready to play, and she found herself singing the Valley Song, which she hadn’t planned on singing but was the only one she could cling to in that moment.

Peeta’s eyes lit up in recognition, a smile tugging at the corner of his lip before he returned to his task of distributing the cake.

After finding her rhythm and the appropriate distance to keep from the mic, the songs seemed to fly by, she felt almost possessed by the music, she wondered if maybe this was what her dad’s aunts and cousins had felt when signing in the same dress.

Peeta left when he was done slicing the cake, sending her one last glance, he seemed like he wanted to linger, but his job was done.

People stood to dance to most of her songs, swaying and laughing, waltzing to her last song, which was a slower one.

When she struck her final chord, she was surprisingly given a round of applause.

Unsure of what to do, Katniss gave a quick bow and hurried off the stage after freezing for a second.

Madge met her at the door with a giant smile, “Katniss you were brilliant!”

Katniss felt her blush intensify as she tried to brush it off, “I just sang.”

Madge just smiled as she handed her a small pouch of coins, “Well you did it amazingly.”

Katniss slumped against the door once she managed to fully get away and leave the Mayor’s house behind, 

She took a moment to gather her thoughts before going to start the walk back home, somehow feeling lighter than when she’d made her way over.

She found that… she didn’t hate the idea of performing again.

[xxwritemeastoryxx]

Intertwined

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x Fem!Reader - Soulmate Au!

Word Count: 6.1K

Warnings: Angst, arguments, Elijah being overly protective but denying himself happiness as always, canon typical violence, a bit of fluff at the end.

Author’s Note: Because I'm apparently on a sequel kick, here's another. I promise I'm getting to the requests that I have and all the things I still need to work on from last year. I'm going where the muse takes me in my writing flow. So there's that. Also please note that you need to read Hidden Marks before reading this one.

I do not and will not ever give permission for my fics to be copied and posted on other sites. Don’t do it. Don’t be that person that ruins it for me and everyone else.Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. While likes are appreciated, reblogs are gold. Seriously, if you enjoyed this in the slightest, please reblog ♥

Hidden Marks || TVDU Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Taglist

It had been months since Elijah had seen the three intertwined circles on the middle of Y/N’s back that made up her soul mark. The first and only time he'd seen it, he'd been pulling a wooden bullet out from her back when she asked for his help. From the moment Elijah helped to remove the bullet, the mark haunted him. 

Seeing her mark should have been a great thing. It should have brought him some peace and happiness to see her mark. That her mark matched the very one he had just below his left clavicle. A perfect pair that made sense for how close they had become as friends over the century. If anything, since seeing her mark he's been conflicted on his feelings. 

Part of him wants and tries to be protective of her. His soulmate that had come into his life when he least expected it. The woman that had become his best friend over the century had been the one thing he never actively searched for. He now knew why she stepped into his life and never left. But it was the other part of him that caused him to fight daily with his feelings. 

Y/N would be in danger because of him. She would soon become a target if even the slightest word had slipped about who his soulmate was. An endless cycle he'd force her into if an enemy ever came knocking. Threats and being captured for the sole purpose of being leveraged against him. 

Not to mention if his brother had ever lost his temper with him. Klaus wasn't one to spare the women in Elijah's life before. What difference would it make this time? All it would take was one action that made Klaus feel the slightest ounce of betrayal and he'd take it out on her. 

Elijah was willing to take on the devil himself if Y/N was in danger. He was reminded of it any time she recklessly put herself in harm's way. An argument he had with her plenty of times during their friendship, but held a deeper meaning as of recently. 

He was also reminded daily how easily she could bend him to her will with a simple smile as she walked into the room. Or the occasional knowing look she'd give him when he or his siblings said something she didn't agree with that would almost instantly change his mind about the situation. Especially if she added in her details that would make it reckless on her part. 

But no matter how many times that feeling of comfort and love started to grow for the woman he believed he could only care for platonically, he could never voice it. He could never bring himself to mention the details that he knew. And because he chose to keep it to himself, it began the yoyo effect of wanting to keep her at a distance and keep her close for his own sanity. 

It hadn’t gone unnoticed by Y/N either. From the moment she offered him a night out to deal with the humans who had put the bullets into her back, she noticed something different. She noticed the way his demeanor changed around her. He grew worrisome over the smallest of things he never had before. And even fought with her longer over details of plans to help take down the threat the Mikaelsons had been faced with. 

She found herself frustrated on the days that he brushed her off and all but ignored her. He had never once been cold to her in the time that she had known him. They had pushed each other’s buttons on occasion, but Elijah had never once pushed her away like he had been doing now. Every time he did, it hurt more than Y/N had ever expected it to. 

They were close friends, she knew that. She knew there would always be moments that Elijah would pick his family over her. That there would be moments where he would keep his family safe and do anything he could to also keep her safe. She knew she was not the highest priority. But why did it feel like someone had staked her when he walked away from her when she felt she really needed him for a few moments?

That's when the thoughts of doubt had been planted in her head. Doubts that were formed and fueled to drive her insane for most of the night that made it almost impossible to sleep. What had she done to earn such coldness from someone that she was close with? Had she crossed a boundary that she had suddenly been unaware of? 

The final straw that broke her had been moments ago when she offered to go with him to deal with the beginning of a threat. It was always something they had done together. A way to have Elijah’s calm and calculated approach and her glimmer of chaos that would always work out in their favor. But when he told her to stay behind, she could no longer keep anything at bay anymore. 

The moment Elijah had told her to stay behind, her face fell at his words. And as he walked past her to leave his expression hadn’t changed. And as she turned to face him, she let it all out. 

“What have I done?” She asked, causing him to stop in his tracks. “Have I wronged you in some way that makes you no longer want to be around me?”

Elijah heard the way her voice cracked towards the end. He had hoped that his actions wouldn’t hurt her. But here she was asking what she had done to him when in reality it had been him to do it. He turned to face her and shook his head slightly. 

“No.” His voice was composed in comparison to hers. “You have done nothing at all.”

She shook her head as she crossed her arms. “I’ve known you for over a century, Elijah. I know well enough to know you are lying to me. If I’ve done nothing wrong there wouldn’t be this shift between us where it feels like you suddenly want nothing to do with me.”

“I assure you that if I had wanted nothing to do with you, you would not still be standing here.” It was as close to the truth he could go to without coming out right with it. “We are facing a potential threat that I feel as though I need to do this with my siblings. We have no idea what they are fully capable of and the last time I checked, you are not as indestructible as you believe.”

Elijah had no idea how this threat would continue to play in their lives. He had no idea what knowledge they planned to use against them in an attempt to try and take him and his family out. That was why Elijah wanted to do this without her. He wanted to make sure that she would remain safe. 

He didn’t want to take Y/N with him with the possibility of allowing them to get an inkling that Y/N had now meant more to him than he let on. He didn’t want her in danger from something he didn’t fully understand. This was the part of him that was willing to do anything to protect her. He just had to slightly push her away in order to do so. 

“That never stopped you before.” She noted as she took a step towards him. “I may not be an original, but I am still a whole lot older than a majority of the threats that walk into the city. I have proven myself over and over that I can handle my own. I’m even better by your side. But ever since you’ve seen my mark, it’s like you don’t want to be near me. All I want is the truth from you. Did I do something or did my mark tell you something that you haven’t told me?”

Elijah looked at the ground for a moment before looking back up to her. He could see the hurt in her eyes as she expressed everything. But he couldn’t bring himself to tell her even though every part of him wanted to. To bring some peace to her mind on his reasoning instead of making her feel as though she wasn’t wanted. 

“I’m going to try to make this as clear as I can." His voice was still even, almost void of any emotion. "This threat is not to be taken lightly. While we do not have the full specifics on who they are or why they are here, I do know they have come close to harming the people I care about." His eyes met hers. "While our normal plan pairs perfectly with the riff raff we deal with, at this moment it does not. So no, you will not accompany me tonight. I need you here." 

After taking in his words, all she could manage was a nod before he was gone from her sight. He didn’t even give her a chance to respond or fight him on what he was telling her. And it left Y/N feeling defeated. 

Her mind still tried to make sense of the changes that had come over the last few months. Every push and pull that happened between the two being analyzed as if it had been some rather important document or experiment being worked on. She was trying to find something, anything, to show what caused Elijah’s sudden change. No matter how many ways she thought about it, it only came back to one starting point: the night Elijah saw her mark. 

Had seeing it really thrown him off to not want to be near her like he had used to? Not showing them their marks had been a preference they decided on early in their friendships. If there was ever a day they felt comfortable in showing what it was, they would have. And that night, with a bullet in her back, it hadn’t mattered if Elijah had seen it or not. 

She ran a hand along her face, trying to shake off the thoughts that had kept her pacing her room for hours after he had left. She no longer cared about the mark or who she may have possibly shared it with. Why did that change now that Elijah had seen it?

It made her wonder if he had seen the mark on someone else. If there was a possibility that he felt guilty in some way after seeing it. There had been plenty of enemies in his existence. At some point he could have easily come across it and not realized it until he saw it on her back.

Did it belong to someone who had betrayed him? Had he seen it on someone that he had taken their life out of necessity? Or had this person been a victim of the many spells he had endured? 

Deep down she knew it was the fear of losing Elijah. Something she had thought about over the century and a half she had known him. Friendships can only last so long before one reason or another comes along. She knew plenty of people who had left her on the back burner after finding their soulmate, even during her human years. 

She had grown used to having Elijah in her life. It would take her longer to find a memory that didn’t involve Elijah versus the ones with. Over the years she had become dependent on the fact that Elijah had always been there for her just as she was for him. He was a constant and part of her hated the thought of her ever losing that. 

At the thought, Y/N had felt her heart sink. A simple thought putting everything into perspective to her. The idea may have been formed from past experiences, but it all made sense. Elijah must have found his soulmate. And if that was the case, she was sure this was the beginning of being put further back on the burner.  

“Y/N?!” Rebekah’s panicked voice had broken her from her thoughts, causing her to move quickly to find Rebekah. 

Upon reaching the courtyard, a gasp left her lips as she found Rebekah dragging a half standing Elijah towards the couch. The majority of his clothing had been covered in blood. Parts of the fabric had been torn in several places. It was as if Elijah had picked a battle he couldn’t win. 

“What the hell happened?” Y/N asked as she moved to help get Elijah settled on the couch. Her eyes had still been taking him in, accessing his injuries. 

“Witches.” Elijah breathed out as he tried to get a hold of reality. He had lost enough blood and his mind had been a distorted mess from the magic he had been subjected to. 

“Everything had been going according to plan but whatever spell they used on him, it threw him off course.” Rebekah took the moment to leave the room to get items they needed to help Elijah for the time being until Freya could get back there. The moment she was back she continued. “The others are still there dealing with them.” 

Seeing the items Rebekah had brought, Y/N reached for the towel that had been sitting in a bowl of water and began cleaning off the blood from Elijah’s face and neck. “I can understand the disorientation, but what the hell ripped into him?” 

There was panic rising within Y/N. She hated that he had made her stay behind. She could have been there to help him in some way. Been there to help prevent him from being hurt as he was now. 

"Between the spell and some of the wolves within the vicinity, he couldn't watch his back." Rebekah said as she picked up another towel and folded it before placing it on Elijah's forehead. Afterwards she began picking up little containers of what Y/N could only assume were herbs and salves that Freya had instructed her to use for the time being. 

As Y/N ran the towel over his neck, Elijah lifted his hand to her hand, stilling her movements. It caused her to look up at him. His eyes had been looking over her face, before they settled on her eyes.

"You're safe." His voice was barely above a whisper. 

She nodded her head. "I am safe. You made sure I was." She wasn't sure if that was what he needed to relax more as she attempted to help clean him. "Freya will be here soon." 

With that, Elijah seemed to relax his hold and it allowed for her to continue wiping up the blood. So far it looked as though any of the injuries he sustained were healing. It may have been at a whole lot of a slower pace, but his wounds were healing. But the moment her hand moved to remove the shredded fabric stuck to his skin along his left shoulder and chest, his hand grabbed a hold of her wrist, not wanting her to continue. 

"I need to make sure your wounds are healing Elijah." She said softly as she brought her eyes up to his once more. "Or to at least give me the peace of mind that this looks way worse than it is." 

"For once let someone take care of you." Rebekah added and pulled his hand away from Y/N. It had been too easy to remove his hand. His strength is almost non-existent given what he'd been through. 

Elijah hated that he couldn't get his mind to process the protest he wanted to give. He hated that he couldn't give a strong enough response to say he'd deal with it later. But the spell within his mind made it difficult to think clearly for more than a second or two at a time. 

Elijah’s eyes never left Y/N’s face as she began to move the fabric away from his chest. He didn't care about the wounds he was facing. He didn't even care that Y/N and Rebekah were caring for him. It was what laid just under the layers of fabric she was removing, that had him worried. 

Quickly dipping the towel into the bowl of water between her and Rebekah, Y/N brought it back up to his chest and began to rid him of the drying blood. There was a part of her that was relieved to not see some gaping wound that he was trying to prevent her from seeing. 

That relief soon turned into curiosity as the blood was being wiped away. The beginning of Elijah's mark became clear as day. With each wipe of the towel the mark continued to grow. And as last of the reminisce of blood was removed from the mark, she all but dropped the towel. 

Just below his left clavicle had been three intertwined circles. It ran horizontally across his skin in the exact same way it ran across the middle of her back. And for a moment she fought herself on reaching out just to run her fingers along the mark. A need to make sure it was really there. 

Elijah had watched her the whole time. Even through his hazed mind he could see the way relief had flooded her eyes before her brows began to furrow. The curiosity in her eyes had been evident and there was nothing Elijah could do to fully protest in his current state. All he could do was watch her as she learned what he had months ago. 

Her soulmate had been right there in front of her for over a century.  

Her eyes snapped to him and Elijah could see several emotions flash through her eyes. He could see the way there was a sliver of excitement before hurt filled them as she tried to stop the tears from welling up. 

"What is it?" Rebekah asked as she caught on that Y/N had stopped her movements. 

Y/N shook her head slightly before looking away from Elijah. "Nothing worth noting." She said as she went back to wiping the blood. 

She kept her eyes away from the mark and as best as she could from keeping them from looking up at Elijah. She could feel his eyes on her. But she refused to look his way. 

All of her wild thoughts that had been going through her head earlier had only been partially right. She honestly never thought this was the case. And if she was being honest with herself, this felt worse. 

He had found his soulmate like she thought.  But she hadn't expected it to be herself. Not with the way he had pulled himself away from her during the course of the last few months. Not with the way she felt that she was losing her best friend. 

Elijah knew that he was her soulmate and he didn't tell her. There wasn't an excitement at knowing that the person they spent decades with had been the one person they both chose not to actively look for. Their life had been great just as it was. Until Elijah saw her mark. 

She tried to stop the spiral of thoughts that began to form. It was already too late to try to spare her heart the pain it was currently feeling. No matter how hard she tried to focus on helping Rebekah take care of him, one single thought played in her mind on a constant loop. 

He knew they were soulmates and he tried pushing her away. 

The moment Freya came running into the courtyard with Klaus and Kol behind her, Y/N pulled herself slowly away from the side of the couch. It was a way to not only keep the now unwanted attention of her facial expressions away but to give the necessary space Freya would need. 

When she moved a little too far for Elijah’s liking, his hand grabbed a hold of hers. This time his grip was tighter in comparison to earlier. He was getting better, stronger. The venom from the wolf bites was leaving his system while the spell kept a tight hold over him.

Y/N's eyes met his one more time. She could tell he was pleading with her to stay there with his eyes. Almost to say that once Freya helped him he'd explain everything to her. That he needed her to stay there.

There was something in her eyes that changed a moment after his words had pierced the air. “Would you tell me if you saw the mark on someone else?” 

“Of course.” He said even though it had been a lie. He knew he wasn’t going to speak of the very mark that was on his chest. 

Her heart ached at the sudden memory that filled her mind. She wanted to break down. She wanted to run to get fresh air. Do anything that would allow her to process the information she had been given in the last few minutes. 

Freya came over and knelt down beside Elijah, giving Y/N the chance to pull her hand away from Elijah. She took several back as she tried to decide if she wanted to stay or leave the area. But a heartbeat later she was mumbling some excuse and left the courtyard. 

It was only when she was safely behind the door of her room, she felt more clarity than she had downstairs. The wave of emotions she felt calmed in comparison.  While silent tears had begun falling, it hadn't felt like her world had come crashing to a halt as it had. 

"For as many times as I've come here to hide away, there's never been another person here." Y/N said as she took in the stranger. "Might have to find a new one if this one is compromised." 

"I can assure you, I've known about this place for a lot longer than you." The stranger looked towards her. "I may have been out of the city for some time, but I will know more about the history than you ever will.”

A laugh passed her lips causing a smile to form on his lips. “What if I told you I watched that town in the distance be built?”

His eyebrow raised slightly before he looked towards the town she had been speaking of. “I’d then ask if you knew what was out there before the town was built.”

“A small village.“ She responded.  “One that was destroyed just a few years after I was born. There are stories of a creature that roamed the woods that surrounded that village. A creature that was hunted but never killed.” She shrugged her shoulders before looking back towards the stranger. “Though I’d love to hear what you have that can top that.”

He laughed for a moment before he placed his hand out between them. “I’m Elijah. And I assure you, I can surpass any story you’ve been told about the area.”

“That’s a challenge I’m willing to take.” She said as she placed her hand in his. “I'm Y/N.”

That year Y/N needed to get away from the life she had found herself in after being a vampire for a few centuries already. The mountaintop just above the town she was born in had always been her go to place to reevaluate her life as a human and as a vampire. That night, Y/N had been debating on watching the sunrise for the last time. 

But Elijah had been there to pull her thoughts away from the sunrise and into a life that she had now thrived in. Elijah had been there when she needed him the most. Her soulmate had been the one to pull her back from the edge and she never knew it until now.

Elijah had saved her that night. He saved her and it wasn't long after he paid off a witch to create a daylight ring for her. A friendship shouldn't be had just in the dark. Those had been his words as he held up the daylight ring for her to take a few minutes before sunrise a few weeks later.

Her heart picked up in pace as her mind continued to accept everything that happened. The details of their meeting to this current moment made sense from a soulmate perspective. No matter how many times the flashes of memories played through her mind, there was no changing the facts. 

"What if I don't want to marry my soulmate?" A young Y/N asked as she kicked her shoe at the dirt. 

Her mother's laugh filled the air. "You don't always have to marry your soulmate. Sometimes it depends on what best suits the both of you. Your soulmate can be a best friend or even a lover. Sometimes they're both." She knelt down to Y/N's height. "There's one thing I know though. Having them in your life in any form is a whole lot better than not having them in your life or losing them. So when you are able to meet the person that knows your soul without needing to try hard, fight as hard as you can. Fight with them, for them and alongside them as needed." She ran her hand along Y/N’s cheek. "I know this doesn't make a lot of sense right now, but I promise one day you'll understand. "

The sound of the knock on her door followed by the door slowly opening had pulled her out of her thoughts and memories. Without even looking she had already known it was Elijah. She quickly wiped at her cheeks before she turned towards the door. 

The moment she had, Elijah could see that the whirlwind of emotions he saw earlier in her eyes had shifted. Even as her eyes welled up, he could see the hurt along with acceptance. And if he was being honest with himself, the acceptance is what scared him. 

He took a few steps further into her room before he came to a stop. "What I've done was-" 

"Cowardice?" She finished for him before he got the chance to even form the next word. It made him raise his brow. "Because whatever reasoning you have for not telling me was the worst decision you have ever made. And I know there have been plenty of questionable decisions you've made." 

"I know I should have told you that night." He gave a slight nod. "For a brief moment I wanted to. But then I realized the danger you would be in because of me." 

She had already begun shaking her head before he finished speaking. "Danger that I haven't already been in from just being close with you. Or to your siblings for that matter." She watched as he opened his mouth to speak but she quickly continued to stop him. "I know it's not the same. Putting it out there makes it more real and practically puts a target on both of us. I know what that target looks like. That just means we'll be better prepared for it." 

She knew from experience how easy it was to use a soulmate as leverage. How easy it was to threaten them to get someone to bend to their will. There was a dark decade in Y/N's existence where she had once toyed with humans and their soulmates. A time where her humanity had been switched and she hadn't cared. 

She knew the tricks that could be played. She knew how much damage someone could take before they snapped. The emotional torment that could be played on both parties to get the point across was something she lived for during that dark decade. 

At least that was until her humanity had been forcefully switched on. She tormented herself afterwards on how she could carelessly manipulate people by using the one weakness they all had. It was part of the reason she found herself heading back to the mountaintop. 

"If today has taught me anything it's that you were safer without me near." He watched as her eyebrow raised before he continued. "While having you by my side would have been beneficial for many reasons, I watched as my worst fear played through my mind because of a spell. A spell that provided sufficient reasons on why I was right on my decision to not say anything." 

"A spell that was used to distract you.” She noted. It explained why he had seemed so relieved at seeing her safe. "And a fear that we could have worked out beforehand if you simply had told me. I spent the last several hours wondering how and when I had become the problem. Part of me knew that you had found your soulmate and that was why you were pushing me away. That maybe you were trying to distance yourself from me to make room for them." Her eyes began to well up. "I just never thought you'd be pushing me away because I am your soulmate."

Elijah shook his head slightly as guilt filled him. He could see in that moment how hurt she had been by it. The emotions she had displayed when he first came into the room broke down bit by bit. And the thought that she believed she was the problem stung him in ways he never believed it would. 

"I don't know if I can be what you need me to be." He said a moment later. "It has been proven time and again that whenever I let an ounce of happiness into my life, it's quickly taken away. I refuse to have the same thing happen to you. And if that means keeping you at a distance or even you leaving the city-" 

"Nothing has to change!" She cut him off as she shook her head. "We have been by each other's side for over a century without even knowing we were soulmates. We have been through hell and back together without even questioning how it was possible. I have fought by your side not caring if I died in the process." She wiped at her cheeks as more tears escaped. "I will continuously be by your side even after this. I don't care if it is as something more or keeping things as it has been. But don't you dare for one moment think that I would be safer with you pushing me away or even deciding that it's better without you in my life." 

He sighed softly before taking a few steps to close the distance between them. "If anything were to ever happen to you because of me, I'd never be able to forgive myself." His hand came up to her cheek before using his thumb to wipe away more of her tears. 

"It's going to happen with or without you in my life." Her eyes met his. "I am no stranger to being threatened by your family. I have had Klaus's hand on my heart and I'm still here in front of you." She placed her hand on top of his as she leaned into his touch slightly.  A way to prove that she was there. "I am not even a stranger to having a witch use me as leverage or even used to fight against you. I can leave tonight and what's to stop anyone from coming after me once it's actually figured out?" She watched as he took in her words. "This isn't just one sided either. I am afraid of what each new threat could mean for you. I want and need you to be safe, maybe even for my own selfish reasons. But I will not let you push me away without at least fighting to stay. I will continue to be by your side no matter how much you push. I will stand there by your side and face the enemy with you and die there with you if it comes to it. I will continue to be your friend or more if that is what you need and you'll never have to worry that I'll leave you. But I will not let you try and push me out of your life for the fear of what could possibly happen to me just because you're afraid to let yourself be happy."

Elijah's eyes never left hers as she spoke. He couldn't bring himself to look away from her. Not when he was seeing everything play through her eyes. Every emotion, every piece of history and hopeful future had been displayed within them. And he could no longer ignore what he'd been trying to avoid. 

He knew everything she said was right. He would hate himself if anything happened to her while she was gone. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how it would feel if he ever learned the news that something had happened to her. He couldn't ignore the fact that throughout the years and even now she was fighting for her place to stay no matter how hard he tried to keep her at bay and safe in his eyes. 

The same safety that he had been trying to provide her since the night they met. How broken her eyes had looked from the moment she took a seat next to him on that mountain top. And how everything within him had told him to protect her from anything. Even himself if it ever came to it. 

But as he looked into her eyes now, he could see the woman that had become his best friend.  The woman that stood there beside him as threat after threat came. How she cared for him in his moments of need even though he fought her on it. The one person he couldn’t go more than a few days without speaking with. It was why the thought of losing her scared him even more than he ever believed. 

After a moment, Elijah nodded his head. “I give you my word that I will not push you away or ask you to leave.” His thumb gently moved along her cheek. He watched as something changed within her eyes. “I don't believe I could actually watch you leave, let alone be alone out there in the world. Nor can I picture a day where you are not in my life in some form or another. You have your selfish reasons and I have mine. But I have never wished for you to look so hurt as you have today and I will spend as much time as needed to make up for it. ” He looked elsewhere for a moment before looking back at her. “I just don’t know how things will change from here.”

The part of Y/N’s heart that expected the worst had felt relief. Relief that he wasn’t going to continue to push her away. Relief that he was willing to accept that they were soulmates and that she wasn’t going to go down or leave without a fight. And if anything, there was a small tug of a smile at her lips at his words. 

“We continue as friends, just as we have.” She offered. “If in the future things change, we’ll go from there.”

A hum of agreement passed his lips as he pulled his hand away from her. As he did, He maneuvered his hand to take a hold of her’s, finding comfort in just holding her hand within his. Her offer of nothing needing to change played in his ears.

There was something within him that agreed with that. Mixed within the agreement was the hope that things would change for the better. But for now this was a step in the right direction. A step that meant he wasn’t going to push her away as he had planned to. It was in a direction that he strongly believed he’d never lose her in the way that he feared.

“We’ll handle things as we always have.” He nodded his head, a small smile pulling at his lips. 

“Together?” She asked as a small hopeful smile pulled at her lips. 

She could joke about how they would work together as she always had in the past. She could have added in how reckless they could be. How the calm and chaosbetween them would keep things interesting. But at that moment, she only needed the confirmation that it would continually be them against everything else that came at them.

“Together.” He promised with no intention of ever breaking that promise. Even when the world learned of the mark they share, he’d keep his promise and keep each other close to their sides. As a friend, as a potential lover, but most importantly as soulmates that would never have to live without the other. 

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[solxamber]

Not sure if this is allowed since I just recently requested it, and you recently posted it, but if you want to, can you make a part two to the rollo fic? He got me kicking my feet giggling and blushing just like yuu fr...

Rollo Flamme x Reader

part 1: here

rollo anon i hope this is what you wanted, if not, let me know 🫡

Dating Rollo turned out to be… oddly wholesome. You had braced yourself for awkwardness, tension, maybe even a lecture on the dangers of magic every time you held hands, but instead, Rollo was... incredibly considerate. And to your low, dirt-floor standards, he was absolutely killing it.

Take your first “official” date. He’d invited you to the library—yes, the library—because, in his words, “What could be more stimulating than expanding one’s knowledge together?” You almost choked on your tea when he said it, but you went along. And honestly? It was kinda sweet.

Rollo arrived, dressed impeccably as always, with a bouquet of non-lethal flowers. That alone had your heart skipping several beats. “I thought you might appreciate something... symbolic,” he said, handing them over with a proud smile. “They represent thoughtfulness.”

You blinked, staring down at the very normal flowers in awe. Thoughtful flowers? For you? From a guy who wasn’t trying to actively ruin your life? The bar was so low, and yet here he was, cartwheeling over it like some sort of overachieving gymnast.

“Wow, Rollo, these are... perfect,” you said, genuinely touched. “No one’s ever gotten me something so thoughtful before.”

Rollo blinked, genuinely confused. “Really? No one?”

You shrugged, smiling awkwardly. “Nope. This is... new.”

That seemed to light a little spark in his eyes, like he’d just been given a new challenge. “Well then,” he said, voice soft but resolute, “I’ll have to make sure this becomes a regular occurrence.”

Cue you, nearly melting into a puddle of feelings on the library floor.

And it didn’t stop there. The smallest things he did were, in your mind, the epitome of romance. Like when he held the door open for you, or how he always poured your tea first. Or the time he walked you home just to make sure you got back to Ramshackle safely, even though you both knew you were probably safer from harm than anyone else on campus.

“You really didn’t have to walk me all the way,” you mumbled, feeling giddy but trying to play it cool.

Rollo, ever the gentleman, gave a small, approving nod. “It’s only right to ensure your safety. Besides, it’s a pleasant walk.”

Pleasant?! Rollo, this was practically a marriage proposal in your eyes.

Then there was the time you’d been casually talking about books (because apparently, that was your new thing now—having intelligent conversations), and Rollo mentioned offhandedly, “I’ve taken the liberty of requesting a copy of that novel you were interested in. I thought we could read it together.”

You nearly short-circuited. He remembered what you liked? He went out of his way to get it for you? NRC was full of selfish jerks who’d trip over themselves for extra homework help, and here was Rollo—an actual prince among men—doing something so simple and thoughtful that you had to excuse yourself to go scream into a pillow later that night.

One time, you were walking around the gardens, and Rollo gently draped his coat over your shoulders because it was chilly. It was such a normal, nice thing to do, but your brain, ruined by years of absolute chaos, could barely comprehend it.

You gave him a grateful smile, heart practically bursting. “Thanks. That’s really sweet of you.”

Rollo tilted his head, eyebrow raised. “Sweet? It’s just practical. You were cold.”

Sure, maybe it was practical, but the only practical things you were used to involved someone stopping Grim from lighting things on fire. The sheer normalcy of this kind of care was borderline magical.

When you got to the front steps of Ramshackle, you expected him to say goodnight and leave, but instead, he lingered for just a moment. “I hope you’ll join me for tea again soon,” he said, his voice soft but sincere.

You nodded, heart doing somersaults. “Yeah, definitely. Tea sounds... great.”

And then, in a move so simple yet so devastatingly perfect, he reached out and gently took your hand in his, squeezing it lightly before stepping back. “Goodnight,” he said, turning to leave with that cool, composed demeanor of his.

Meanwhile, you stood there, practically vibrating with excitement because, holy hell, he held your hand.

Rollo, in his usual intense way, probably thought he was just being courteous, doing the bare minimum of politeness. But to you? This was peak romance. No deadly plants, no chaos, no magic explosions—just... a nice guy, treating you like a person.

And honestly? That was more than enough.

Masterlist

[longing-for-rain]

What's the context as to what's going on exactly?

I assume you mean the people sending me death threats over a fanfictions I wrote (which is like... the 3rd? 4th? time this has happened now), but to summarize:

Ironically, I initially made this blog with the intention to just be very lowkey and post headcanons/silly posts/art and not engage in discourse.

At some point, I got an anon angry at me for mentioning how I viewed some of Aang's behavior towards Katara as toxic masculinity and answered it.

A kataang shipper reblogged the (properly tagged) post to whine at me even more, so I replied back with sources and maybe a little too much humor than she could handle, so she cried that I was a meanie and blocked me.

Had a few more experiences with Zutara haters reblogging my posts, making me increasingly annoyed.

I started writing more Zutara metas and criticizing canon more openly.

My posts got popular, popular enough that angry kataang stans started sharing screenshots of them around on here and Twitter.

I made fun of one particularly insane kataang stan who went on a few of my posts, and even into my DMs to screech at me for being every type of -phobic under the sun because I don't like Aang/Kataang. She still periodically blocks and unblocks me so she can shoot more of her brain vomit my way, and accuses me of harassing her for reposting screenshots of her unhinged comments to laugh at. She also accidentally followed me while trying to send an anon one time (I assume, since those buttons are close together) which was hilarious for someone who claims I bully and stalk her.

Recently, a bunch of kataang shippers got butthurt over a post I made referencing how Katara is drawn differently (it was a response to an Anon mentioning a much older post measuring the size of Katara's eyes and jawline) to make her appear younger during "romantic" moments with Aang. I commented on how I found it a creepy contrast and like how much more natural and human she seems while not with Aang, or with Zuko.

Another whiny brat kataang reblogged the (again, properly tagged) post calling me a pedophile, colonizer, racist, and whatever else his little rotten brain could come up with, and posted (without any trigger/content warnings!) out-of-context screenshots of a fanfiction I wrote exploring themes of sexual violence. This was apparently supposed to be "evidence" that I have a "fetish" or something, which needless to say, is an absolutely disgusting thing to say to a survivor talking about her experiences of sexual abuse, especially when you're a man who has never experienced that.

That brings us to why everyone is discoursing over the fic: Claws of Ice. Keep in mind, the majority of these people haven't read it, don't understand any of the context, and felt it was appropriate to leverage my trauma against me in the name of a ship war. The man in question is still crying about how he's the real victim here because I was apparently too mean to him when I responded to his accusations that I'm a pedophile and that my story of assault is a fetish to him, which is exactly the kind of male entitlement you'd expect.

So yeah! That's why they're all so obsessed with me, and throwing around every possible Bad Person accusation they can think of about me, but I really don't take it too seriously with that in mind. I was very nervous about posting this story in the first place because it was so heavy and personal and I was unsure of putting these themes out there, but the backlash has been oddly reassuring. The two biggest haters are that manbaby I mentioned, and that obsessive stalker who keeps spamming the atla-confessions blog with anons that are very obviously her while pretending she's trying to "calm down" the fandom, neither of whom can seem to formulate a coherent sentence. Like if that is the opposition, pretty sure I'm in the right here.

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

I wish you were in Tumblr headquarters to crack down on fandom. HR perhaps? So when we agree to terms and conditions, we have to abide by fandom etiquette and actually participate in fandom instead of leeching off of people silently. It really is showing your all to a group for slow blinks and no claps.

Come here, dear friend. Let me tell you a story.

As a Fandom Old - and more specifically, as a Tumblr Old, I have a lot of stories and I live my life by a set of unwritten rules due to lived experiences in fandom. And one thing I have learned is that being unhinged and lawless in fandom is just as bad as trying to impose too many laws and trying to police everyone.

Let me tell you the story of The 2012 Tumblr Tag Police.

(Which was a real thing that happened.)

Shortly after I first joined Tumblr, there was An Incident -

Something that you need to keep in mind is that Tumblr's tags used to be 100% chronological - this means that if someone tagged a post with something, it showed up first in the tags regardless of popularity, and every single post that came up when you searched a tag was in order of when those things had been posted. It wasn't filtered by popularity or 'relevance', everything was simply shown by most recent posts, and you could scroll through a tag and see every single post that had been made under a certain tag. So if something was fairly unknown and unpopular, you could scroll through every single post that had been made under that tag in a very short time - and even if something was super popular, you could keep the tab open and scroll through every single post that had been made under a popular tag and eventually get to the end (seeing posts that had been made years ago) because you weren't just shown the same popular posts over and over again.

It was genuinely great and I miss it. It was so fucking amazing for reading fanfiction. And it was so, so much better for posting fanfiction too, because fics weren't highlighted by their popularity. (But, nostalgia aside-)

I largely frequented tags for the Phandom - aka the Daniel Howell and Phil Lester fandom. And one day when I was on one of those tags, I saw that someone had made a post about Dan's younger brother. Apparently he had a Tumblr account that someone had discovered, and they outed his username in the post (I don't think they tagged him, but they had screenshots of his account, along with 'proof' that it was his account by showing that he had posted selfies on the account) and they were - basically telling everyone to go follow him in a very stalker-ish way.

At the time, I thought it was very creepy. I came back to the tag about an hour later, and I saw more people who also thought this was creepy, and they were saying 'hey, don't follow Dan's brother, leave him alone'. (And I believe Dan's brother posted on his Tumblr that he wanted to be left alone, but I did not follow him, so I can't confirm that part of the story.)

And this evolved into something I have never seen recreated on Tumblr since. Due to the chronological order of the tags, people wanted to flood the tags with something different so that anybody scrolling back, looking for the original post with Dan's brother's information would be incredibly difficult to find. So people created this type of... 'campaign' called Replace Dan's Bro With Tesco. (It sounds so fucking made-up, but literally, how the fuck could I make this shit up??) So people flooded every single Phandom related tag with pictures of Tesco (the shop) and long 'grocery' lists so that people would have to scroll on looking for Dan's brother's username if they wanted to be stalkers, and they would just get annoyed by the spam and leave the tags.

And due to this incident, The Phandom started something called The Tag Police. Which is one elected blog which is supposed to be - essentially Fandom HR that goes and yells at people if they are posting things on tags that are not relevant to that tag. Aka mass spamming Tesco or posting stalker attacks on Dan's brother. It's the idea that they will give you a warning and then incite harassment on you if you're posting things on a tag that don't belong there.

Sounds great, right? Everyone finds it so fucking annoying when people are tag spamming or if people post a Spencer Reid fanfiction on the Derek Morgan x Reader tag.

Well the biggest problem with any fandom trying to regulate or 'police' itself - opinions. Nobody can agree on how to follow rules when fandom is so fucking objective.

Obviously, a bunch of other fandoms followed suit, and there was actually a huge 'masterpost' blog that kept a list of all the Tag Police blogs for each fandom, and I believe the first major problem came up in the Harry Potter fandom (no surprise there). And I genuinely believe that The Tag Police era was where the use of Anti tags started. (At least to my recollection.)

But anyway - one of the Harry Potter Tag Police blogs was upset that someone was posting Harry x Snape fanfiction on the main Harry Potter tag, and there was a huge argument over whether or not it belongs there because - yes, it's technically something that pertains to the Harry Potter fandom, and a portion of the fandom might be looking for it under that tag. But 'it's gross and we don't wanna see it' and 'it's pedophilia and it shouldn't be allowed'. But the original purpose of The Tag Police wasn't to stop 'immoral' content from being posted on tags, it was to stop irrelevant content from being posted on tags.

A Dramione fic with rape, human trafficking, and abuse might be morally objectionable to a lot of people - but it still technically belongs on the Dramione tag.

This is when the purpose and concept of The Tag Police began to implode. It simply turned into a hate campaign where Tag Police blogs sicked their followers on certain people for posting things they didn't like - and it was always based on opinion, rather than based on actual outlined rules or facts.

Now as far as wishing that I could personally ban some people from fandom? I don't know.

Personally - I wish that ChatGPT and other forms of personal use generative AI (like c.ai) just weren't available to the public. I wish that you had to have some kind of major company tech licence in order to use them, and I wish that they were way more expensive to use so that the random everyday Jo-Shmo couldn't rip off fics and post gen-AI fics on Tumblr and AO3.

Other than that, if someone has different fandom opinions than me about characters or interpreting the narrative - even if they're blatantly stupid and wrong - I'll just block them and move on.

Because fandom should be more about people following everyday common courtesy rules to be polite - not about people making so many rules that it's tyrannical, and not about people being so fucking lawless that we're all monkeys slinging shit at the walls. And if someone who is just a rude shit-slinging primate needs to be called out by me, then I will happily call them out. And if someone who is new and learning needs me to politely outline some of those unspoken rules for them, then I will do that too.

Anyway - that's your fandom lesson for the day!!

[wittywallflower]

DBDA post-s1 Catwin fic. rated G 2k words

Edwin went back to Port Townsend several months after their extended stay. He would never admit to expecting a warmer welcome from the shapeshifter who had professed to be so fond of him. But despite the time apart Edwin found he could still read beneath the facade of the apparently-disinterested man who didn’t stand to greet him and offered only desultory small talk.

He might cultivate an aura of boredom and indifference but of course the Cat King was feeling wary and a bit petulant, convinced he’d been forgotten about. Dubious of Edwin’s long absence and his motives for returning.

🔎

Edwin had simply needed to take the time to cope with everything that had happened. 

Time to mourn for Niko, the first friend he’d made in anything approaching a normal way. His friendship with Charles was something unshakeable, but the circumstances of their first meeting had been rather extraordinary. Edwin and Crystal had formed a mutual affection only begrudgingly, after going through a lot together. But Niko… befriending her had come so naturally. Edwin’s afterlife was so supernatural that the easy simplicity of it all had made Niko even more special. Edwin missed her terribly.

Time was also needed to recover from round 2 of Hell, or more accurately to firmly repress as much of that experience as he could. He had talked extensively of Hell to Charles early in their acquaintance; nothing needed to be rehashed, in Edwin’s opinion. It had been more of the same and he much preferred other uses of his time.

Like the time spent letting his unrequited heart be soothed by Charles’ platonic devotion. To be sure that his feelings for his best friend wouldn’t complicate things. He hadn’t worried too much about their work, knowing Charles was similarly dedicated to their cause. He was nervous about the leisure time spent alone together, always so comfortable and often fun in ways some people thought Edwin incapable of. What would Edwin even do without Charles to help fill all the hours a ghost didn't spend on sleeping or eating or grooming?

Nothing had changed though. Their friendship stayed just the same. Edwin had frankly expected it to hurt a lot more. It wasn’t painless, but as he continued to talk and laugh and solve cases with his dearest friend, Edwin realized that he didn’t need to pine for the romantic love Charles didn’t return. What Charles could give him was more than enough. He knew he had Charles' love and respect and admiration; no one could possibly care for Edwin more than the boy who went to Hell to bring him back.  Charles gave him protection, help, an ear when he needed it, and gave him equal time and attention as he gave Crystal. 

Just because Edwin hadn’t seen the appeal in kisses until recently, didn’t mean that his relationship with Charles was somehow lesser for the lack of them. 

And on the subject of kissing, it had come time for Edwin to actually come to terms with the things he had recently realized about himself. This meant research. The local library had a very helpful display front and center, actually. Edwin couldn’t have known beforehand, but it was quite auspicious that he had begun his research in June. He had learned a lot. 

In the safe space of the Cat King’s private lair, with the man he didn’t have to hide with, who liked his secret parts, Edwin had the courage to say as much - though rather more succinct and impersonal words.

“Is that why you’re here then?" the Cat King inquired. "Curiosity? Need a queer mentor for the questions the books can't answer?”

“I would think you of all people would appreciate a bit of curiosity.”

For the first time since Edwin had arrived, the Cat King’s smile looked the way he remembered it.

“Touché.”

Edwin couldn’t help a small smile in return, sensing how fun it could be to banter with the man now that there were no high stakes involved.

“So, what then," the Cat King asked further, "looking for tips on how to make that second kiss a winner? I could probably offer some… personal instruction in that.”

The words were suggestive, and a wink accompanied them, but it rang a bit hollow. Edwin didn’t fail to notice that before he rolled his eyes in exasperation.

“Why do people keep offering me kissing lessons?” he huffed.

That got the Cat King’s attention, and he sat up sharply, abandoning his indolent pose on the shabby pallet throne.

“Who?” he asked, barely managed to make it a question rather than a demand. 

Edwin had to swallow some emotion before he could speak. 

“Niko was the only person I had ever talked to about… kissing. She said she would be a ‘guinea pig’ if it would help me be less anxious about it. She thought I should save it for someone i really liked, but she still made the offer anyway.” 

Such a romantic soul, but willing to do anything to help her friends. 

Edwin sighed and shook off the creeping sadness. 

“Anyway, somehow Crystal got wind of the conversation and felt a need to point out that Niko really didn’t have the experience to be very helpful. Then Crystal offered to teach me herself, if I found a way to suggest to Charles that he adopt some of her preferred techniques.”

The Cat King stared unblinking for a long moment, then shook his head slightly is dismay.

“Hon, this love triangle you’ve got going on is a little perverse. Tell me you turned Crystal down.” 

Obviously there was no way the prim prissy ghost accepted either offer. The idea was ridiculous. But it would still be nice to hear it said out loud. 

The Cat King would accept any of Edwin’s kisses, but it did sting how narrowly he had missing having Edwin’s first. He would have been properly appreciative of it; he would have done it right, not as a surprise in some dark, shitty forest. 

Second kiss wasn’t bad though. Second was still his goal. 

Edwin answered with a look of exasperation. “Obviously I did not accept. Even if I were so inclined, I can’t see how the inevitable awkwardness would be worth it.”

“If you were 'so inclined', the fun would be worth it. The want, and pleasure.”

The Cat King’s smile was smoldering as he called back to their first conversation. Edwin’s non-corporeal body didn’t blush, but he suddenly had a rather strong memory of that it felt like to have his cheeks heat.

“Yes, well,” Edwin straightened his collar, and his posture, “I don’t have any experience with that sort of…fun. I’ll have to take your word for it.”

“I could show you.”

Edwin looked at him closely, and took a step nearer. The Cat King’s head tilted back to look up at the tall ghost as he approached where the shorter man sat.

“That’s why I am here,” Edwin said without fanfare.

The Cat King almost choked on air, eyes wide, mouth dropping open. 

Edwin leaned in to press a finger to the underside of the shapeshifter's chin, lifting until his mouth closed again.

“I know you could show me things I can’t even imagine,” Edwin almost stuttered when the cat king’s pupils blew wide and the magical being inhaled deeply. Suddenly he looked every inch like a predator ready to pounce. 

Edwin managed to continue, “and for some reason you’re perhaps the only person I could see myself trusting enough to be comfortable with.”

Too surprised by Edwin’s forthrightness to have a response to that, the Cat King could only stare up at him.

Edwin smiled almost sadly and dropped his hand from the other’s chin. 

“But that would have undoubtedly complicated things I was already struggling to figure out. Since Hell , the first time, I was always running and hiding from Death, and in a way also from myself. I didn’t let myself want anything, except to stay out of Hell. Now that it’s not a threat, things have changed. I had to figure out something to aspire to, a goal, something I want rather than just want to avoid.” 

“And what do you want?” The Cat King’s voice was underlain with a purr that had Edwin remembering goosebumps on his skin.

“To continue my work,” he answered plainly.

The shapeshifter rolled his eyes. He was not the least bit surprised and wasn’t that kinda the worst part of it?

“Even now that you don't need the good deeds as leverage to avoid Hell?” he asked anyway, even though he really could have expected no less from the ghost.

The reminder of what he had admitted under the influence of the Cat King’s truth spell was unpleasant to Edwin.

“As I said, I was ashamed of that motive. But that was never my only reason for being a detective. And now without the guilt hanging over me, I can enjoy myself more. I won't have to worry about watching our backs from Death, I can focus on the cases and be better at my work.”

The Cat King nodded, knowing that was true. Edwin did love being a detective, using that big beautiful brain of his to solve puzzles and save the day. It was his calling and it would always be his main priority.

“Sounds like you’ve got it worked out then. Got your dream job, got your weird little situationship with your best buddy. What more could a dead boy want?” he asked, a pleasant but oddly empty smile on his face.

“I want to spend time with you,” Edwin answered with hesitation.

The Cat King’s face fell in surprise at the bald admission.

“I want to talk with you,” Edwin went on. “Speak as equals without a magic bracelet or an urgent case hanging over us.” 

“I’ve never really had your full attention, have I?” the Cat King realized with a pout. “Always such a busy little detective.”

Edwin’s lip quirked upward despite himself. 

“I do take my work very seriously. Too seriously, according to some. But despite appearances, I don’t work all the time. And now it should… feel easier to take time off”

Now he wouldn’t feel so guilty if he wasn’t helping someone every single day.

The implication that Edwin wanted to spend his time off with the Cat King was just delightful. The older man tried but it was clear from the way he had to hide a smile as he playfully feigned a protest.

“Kings are busy too, you know.”

Edwin nodded gravely, as if his eyes weren’t sparkling with mirth just as much as the king’s were. 

“I’m certain we can manage to coordinate our schedules.” 

“To schedule time for a chat?” 

Only a chat? was the unspoken question.

Edwin raised an eyebrow, somehow both humorous and haughty.

“I am amenable to some recreational activities. Or a meal, if you don’t mind being the only one eating.”

“Careful there, ghostie. It's starting to sound like you’re asking me on a date.”

The Cat King could no longer restrain a wide grin. He knew he probably looked like a lovesick idiot. Which was… not inaccurate.

Edwin let himself smile back fully, without restraint. He known all along that the Cat King was intrigued by him, had been attracted to him since that first moment in Port Townsend. But now it was quite clear that it was more than simply a cat’s curiosity, or a hedonist’s lust. Edwin was a bit surprised how the idea of a chaste date had the other man looking like the cat that got the cream.

“I am doing just that,” Edwin confirmed. Then pretended at ruefulness. “And I'm sure you are insufferably pleased about the fact.”

The Cat King chuckled and reached out to take Edwin’s hand.

“Oh you handsome thing, you have no idea.” 

[minustwofingers]

love is a laserquest p.2

series masterlist (read p1 here!)

pairing: rockstar!ellie williams x reader

request: @thatgiraffefromtlou so kindly included me on a post about writing something inspired by these beautiful edits :) thank you !

summary: after a serious of unfortunate events, columbia grad y/n y/l/n finds herself using her hard-earned journalism degree interviewing vapid stars and writing articles that she's convinced are rotting her mind. ellie williams has just dropped the album of the year and it's all anyone is talking about, but all she wants is to be off the press train. a certain interview with a certain interviewer might change this.

cws: explicit language, kind of suggestive phrasing? (i get a little feral with guitar playing descriptions), shitty bosses, mentions of nausea and throwing up (no one actually does tho dw), y/n is anxious asf, my writing is a little....yikes...in this one, loser!ellie

a/n: i lied i lied hehe. here's the next part. im still working on building this stupid app so i havent been able to write as much recently + holiday family stuff but oh am i back!

here's a playlist inspired by this fic

wc: 2.4k

tags: tags :) @intrnetdoll @dazedshoon @lovecaraya @pctcr @sariyaflowr @loser-keiji @prettyplant0 @666findgod @sawaagyapong @rystarkov @buzzybuzzsposts @addisonnie@galacticstxrdust @elliesbabygirl @pinkazelma @ariianelle @lu002 @blairfox04 @sparkleswonderland @elliesflower @muthafuckingstargirl @elliewilliamsissubermommyoml @eviestevie-14 @quicksilversg1rl @guacala @crtcrp @overtrred28 @diddiqueen @krisyslostsoul

enjoy mwah

It starts slow, like the drip of a broken faucet. It’s not like you’re actively seeking out anything Ellie William’s related, but somehow it seems like everything Ellie Williams related is seeing you out. 

In the grocery store, one of her hit songs from her newest album blaring over the speakers.

On the street, where you see crumpled pages of magazines with her face plastered all over them. 

And—perhaps the most offensively—on NPR and the New York Times, quite literally days after you’d met her. Suddenly Steve Inskeep and Leila Fadel begin the Up First podcast with a familiar song and devote an entire third of the morning podcast to Ellie and her band’s rise to fame. 

You decide to switch to the BBC World News for a while, but even they seem to be under her spell.

It’s not that you don’t like Ellie. She seems fine. Normal. Really cute, actually, and clearly very talented. But whenever you think about her, you think about the ill-fated, awkward, charmless interview.

“What happened?” Alyssa had asked you when she’d come back from surgery. “That wasn’t you out there.”

Which was actually very hurtful to hear, because you’d been holding onto the hope that you’d been all in your head about your interview being a failure. It all culminates in Eric, your 300 year old manager, sending you a strongly worded email that told you that your performance in the interview was so underwhelming that you were being pulled from the interviewer pool and exiled to article writing land. Which could be worse, you admit. You could be unemployed on the streets of LA. At least you’re still writing. 

And write you do. You spend all your waking hours either at your keyboard, on your yoga mat, or sat in a chair somewhere at a local cafe for a coffee chat. You’ve mostly deleted social media, since all you see nowadays are pictures of Ellie and Becca’s posts about her experience working and loving her life in New York (the algorithm apparently knows exactly what you want to see the most). 

It’s bizarre that, even as you try your best to place your focus on honing your craft and consuming only content that you think will make you a better writer, you still somehow learn everything and more about Ellie Wlliams and her band. It’s in the emails at work whose chains you’re CC’ed on. It’s in the advertisements and the billboards everywhere. It’s even in the conversations you have with your two roommates, Greta and Maureena. 

“She’s so fucking cool,” says Maureena dreamily as you sit around the TV in the living room. “I still can’t believe you got to talk to her.”

“It’s not like I actually got to, like, get to know her or whatever,” you say. “It was honestly kind of dry. Just awkward small talk.”

“That’s more than anyone else I know can say.” She reaches forward and grabs a fistful of popcorn. “How come she gets interviewed by the person who probably cares about her the least in all of LA? Like, what are the chances?”

“I care,” you say, and it sounds unusually defensive coming out of your mouth.

Maureena gives you a long, suspicious look, but before she can respond, Greta comes bursting into the apartment, purse swinging from her shoulder.

A greeting is halfway out of your mouth when she cuts you off. 

“You guys will not believe what I just did.” She’s nearly bursting with excitement, her eyes bright and wide. 

“Like, in a good way?” you ask. 

“Yes. Obviously!” Greta fishes around in her pocket until she pulls her phone out, waving it around. “Check your email.”

The last time Greta had come in with an entrance this energetic, she’d been coming to inform you both that she was getting engaged to her loser boyfriend Brian (which—thank God—didn’t actually last), so you and Maureena trade nervous looks. 

Maureena gets to it first. 

“Tickets to see Ellie Williams? Tonight?” Now she’s about to explode with giddiness, leaping from the couch and throwing her arms around Greta. “I love you, I love you, I love you. How did you get these? I thought they were, like, totally sold out. Or ten thousand dollars.” 

She grins wickedly, holding her hands out in a “who knows” sort of way. “You can all thank me later. We have to leave in about 20 if we want to get there in time. Y/N, you good?”

You’d been staring on in horror, jaw dropped and body completely frozen. You had registered that Ellie was playing in LA tonight—it’s all anyone you knew talked about at work today—but you never once considered actually going to try to see her. “Uh, yeah. Give me just a few.”

By the time you get to the venue, you’re convinced that you might actually puke from the nerves. It’s ridiculous. It’s not like three broke 20 some year olds were going to get last minute seats to an Ellie Williams concert that were genuinely good seats. It’s not like she would see you and realize that the girl who flopped while interviewing her was a big enough fan to attend. You’re going to be fine. 

“Shit, Grets, how are we so close?” asked Maureena as she leads you both closer and closer to the front. 

Horror steadily rises within you as you approach the front row. 

“I got these from my boss,” she says, turning around with a devilish glint in her dark brown eyes. “Her daughter got food poisoning, bless her. She had to stay back to take care of her, and I was the only one who stayed late to work, so…”

Greta’s boss was some filthy rich nepo baby who was a partner of a big talent agency. All of a sudden you feel stupid for not realizing this sooner.

“Shit,” you say, mostly to yourself. “Oh no. Oh my god.”

“Isn’t this so cool!” Greta jumps up and down, hands on your shoulders as she tries to rile you up. “Dude, what if she recognizes you?” 

“I think I’m going to puke,” you say miserably. Somehow the thought of her seeing you made you want to crawl inside your skin in shame and hide for the next calendar year. “Did you guys not see how ass it was? I was so fucking awkward.”

“It wasn’t even that bad.” Maureena pats your shoulder. 

“I literally was forbidden from ever interviewing again because it was so bad.”

“Because Eric hates women,” says Greta. “It’s not your fault he’s a horrible human being. Give it, like, a year or so until he croaks. Then they’ll let you back in the game.”

“Uh huh,” you say, feeling very harrowed. 

You remain in this state of abject terror for the entire opener performance. The nausea doesn’t subside. It only gets worse when you realize that if you actually puke, Ellie’s definitely going to see it. Just like she’s going to see you, with the stupid stars Greta had insisted you paint on your cheekbones with glittery eyeliner and eyeshadow. 

“She really likes space,” Greta had told you while you’d been getting ready, pretending like you didn’t already know all about this. “So all of her fans wear star stuff to see her.”

Before you can think to wipe off the glitter, everything goes black. Then the crowd goes wild. 

When the silvery blue light spills onto the stage, it illuminates Ellie, standing just a number of feet away from you. You barely have enough time to take in the black leather coat and loose white shirt she’s wearing before music explodes out of the speakers, her fingers flying up and down the fretboard. 

You’re spellbound as you watch her. Her voice rings loud and clear and slightly gravelly when it snags on her words. She’s nothing at all like the girl you’d met a month ago—there’s no discomfort, no awkwardness. She looks like she’s born to be on stage. 

When the first song ends, she steps back, grabbing the standing mic next to her. 

“Uh. Hi,” she says, and it’s so endearingly nervous compared to how she’d just sounded that something in your chest twists. She rubs the back of her neck. “I’m Ellie.”

Greta and Maureena join the crowd, screaming and cheering. 

“I LOVE YOU!” someone shrieks, louder than everyone else.

“You know,” she says, “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to people reacting like this to me just, like, saying my name. It’s really fucking weird. Oh. Shit. Sorry. Are you guys okay with me swearing?” 

The roar that comes from the crowd is entirely undecipherable. 

“Right,” says Ellie. “Um. I’ll take that as a yes. Sorry to anyone who brought their kids or something. Anyway, this one’s about the ex who cheated on me and gave me mono.” 

Before you can react to that, she starts playing. 

As she proceeds through the setlist, you’re struck by just how close you are to her, how many things you can notice that hardly anyone else in the crowd can see. You see the outline of her phone in her pocket, the pieces of hair that have fallen out of her little half bun and are sticking to her face, the way that the glitter on her collarbones trails down her shirt in little rivulets. 

And, above everything else, you can see the horrible way her fingers straddle the fretboard, curling and pressing with ease so practiced it looks tender. 

Apart from this bad, bad development (you can feel your mind going a million miles an hour about things you should not be thinking about), things are going great. Ellie hasn’t noticed you. Or even looked in your direction. You’re not even sure she can see you, given how little light is shed onto the crowd. The false sense of security makes you feel comfortable singing along with Greta and Maureena, your lips forming the lyrics you’d been pretending to not listen to whenever her songs came on. 

It happens during a slower song, a sort of ballad that makes your heart thud harder in your chest to hear from her mouth. The lights on stage dim a little. Light spills just the slightest onto the front of the crowd, and Ellie’s eyes fall and snap onto yours so decisively that it almost feels audible. 

For a moment, you can’t breathe. Ellie’s voice suddenly catches mid-word, faltering and missing a beat. She thrusts her hand with the mic into the crowd, which eagerly picks up where she left off and finishes the verse. 

It’s impossible to see on the screen projecting her image behind her, but you can see the flicker of recognition in her eyes, the stiffness that comes with realizing that you actually know someone from somewhere. 

You’re the one who breaks eye contact, focused with a sudden intensity on the way the thin fabric of your sleeves are situated on your arms. 

Greta pokes you so hard in your ribs that you gasp. 

“What the fuck!” you snap, but the words are swept away by the noise around you. 

“Why didn’t you wave?!” she hisses in your ear. “She totally recognized you.”

The realization falls over you with the subtlety of an anvil. Oh my god. You totally should’ve waved. That was the normal, well-adjusted thing to do. Now she was going to think you were weird. And it was too late now. But she didn’t wave to you. Wasn’t she supposed to wave first? Because you of course remembered her, but she might not remember you. Yeah. You could go with that.

Maybe she didn’t remember you. 

You can’t relax for the rest of the concert. You try your best to just act normal and dance along with your friends and casually mouth the words, but it’s hard when it feels like she’s staring at you. Which is completely impossible. The light doesn’t fall back onto the crowd until the concert is over and Ellie and her band are long gone backstage. 

~

Two months later, all you can think about is the way that Ellie stuttered over her words when she saw you in the crowd. Of course, this is definitely something you’ve made up in your mind, because there’s a number of reasons why she might’ve slipped up. Maybe she just thought she knew you from somewhere and couldn’t place it. That’s why she (allegedly) kept looking in your direction afterwards. Or maybe you’re completely batshit insane, and she didn’t look at you at all. Because if she had, wouldn’t she have waved? Right?

It’s almost bad enough to distract you from work. You find yourself prowling on Twitter, watching the #elliewilliams tag blow up following every concert date. It doesn’t give you any clarity, because in every picture, she looks just as perfect and cool and confident as she was at the LA show. You don’t know why you assumed she’d look different if it was true that she’d recognized you. More human, maybe. But she’s just as bathed in starlight as she was that night many weeks before, just as far away and untouchable. 

You spend so much time thinking about her that you’re convinced you might’ve slipped into a dream when Eric appears at your cubicle with the news.

Instead of saying hello, he plops a stack of papers on the desk in front of you, all labeled “PopNow! Interview Etiquette”. 

“Excuse me?” you say. 

“Start reading up, kid,” says Eric. “You’re back in the game.”

“What?” 

“You have an interview scheduled later this week.” He scowls down at you, gum smacking in his mouth. He smells faintly of tobacco. 

“But I thought I was removed from—”

“You still are,” he says. “But someone requested you. Their manager told us they wouldn’t talk to us if they didn’t get you.”

“What?” 

He huffs out a short laugh. “Believe me, I was surprised too. Don’t know what they’re on about after the last time you talked to their client. Fuck this one up and you’re out, okay? Got it? The info’s in your inbox already.” 

Somehow the words don’t quite sink in until you open the email and see the words on paper. 

SENDER: Maria Miller

RECIPIENT: Eric Bal

CC: ewilliamsmusic@gmail.com, y/ny/l/n@popnow!.com

Eric,

Great to hear back from you. Glad that 3 next Wednesday works. 

Best,

MM

final a/n: lmk how u guys feel about this...feeling a little unsure about where this is going but enjoying writing it anyway there are two wolves inside of me etc. etc. also ive missed u all! i hope everyone is doing well! dont b shy!

[joverflowers]

hey dear!!

this isn't much of an ask but more like an emotional mess of me who's just read under the moon and god i just do not know where to put my love for jinmin so i sought you out TT

idk where i'm going w this but i haven't been able to stop thinking abt them recently, i've held a special fondness of them since those life goes on pictures but it's always been sope who i paid my full and extra attention to as in yk content and fan creations etc. i never did that for another pair, not to that extend at least, i've just casually enjoyed the beauty of all of bangtan's dynamics as they come as one does bcs i just adore them.

but then (three months ago) i found an abandoned edit i made of jinmin back in 2021 which i thought i had most definitely finished .. so with the intention of recreating that i dug into content and moments i could use for it and now i'm entirely consumed by them in a way i've only ever felt abt sope and i don't know what to do!!!!! they are so so lovely!!

i'm also more of a twt girlie and idk if yk but jinmin's been making numbers on there recently too and i just think something shifted upon jimin so devotedly and loyally keeping his wv icon seokjin related :")

i just really love them :(( but i also feel like my soft spot of 4ish years and the recent development of me actually noticing beyond casual observation is a bit over shadowed by my sopie expertise so i still feel like i'm kinda missing something? like i'm just not in on it enough eventho i'm more than willing to be. if that makes sense..? like there's a difference between ulting sopejin and actually ulting jinmin and always having just gotten it like i have w sope..

anyways! i'm sorry this got so long, i just have noone to talk abt this to and i've frequented ur blog a lott this winter hahah it's been very nice to catch up w jinmin through your posts :")

sending all my love~~

Hey, love! First of all, I LOVE any and every discussion of the times anyone feels overwhelmed by the raw beauty of jinmin's dynamics so yes. Always a yes so thank you so much for seeking me out. And Under the Moon is one of the best stories that portrays multitudes of emotions seamlessly woven into the past and the present. I remember being super emotional and taking a weeklong break from all fics and rereading it throughout that week.

Mid-script note: If you are looking for jinmin fics that are equally devastating and heartwarming, I'd definitely suggest Strike at Seven (multi pairing fic but the chapters about Seokjin and Jimin are titled The handler/the son or both), how I find my way home, you reel me in, Maybe Today Is The Day My Life Has Meaning, (verb) know; to know, The Fox Who Stole the Moon, comfort blanket. If you'd like a little more filtered version, my ao3 tag is one I truly take pride in.

Back to jinmin, I truly understand what you mean by talking about the differences and similarities between sope and jinmin. Back in 2016, when I was very new to kpop itself, I did enjoy all dynamics without focusing on any duo more than the other. I truly understood the subtlety and sincerity behind the playful dynamics of jinmin. to me, sope has always felt more of a dynamic where both of them are very steadfast in the way they express emotions and place near-telepathic trust to reassure the other that they accept each other. However, jinmin has a bond that reforms, shifts, solidifies uniquely every single time around the other person to bring them closer.

When I started to recognize it, I went back to the videos of 2016 and was pleasantly surprised to say how apparent it was even then. In an interview for Ask in a Box by 1theK, you can see how Seokjin and Jimin base some of the answers to their questions around each other in a playful way. If you go to the videos in any era, Jimin expresses his devotion by always actively participating in any and every matter that concerns Seokjin, being the more extroverted one. Even if it is a disagreement that involves other members along with Seokjin, Jimin will actively ensure that the situation de-escalates soon. Be it talking about Seokjin's spending habits, staying up overnight gaming, recording the very first eat jin and always hyping him up, expressing his concern when Seokjin went to The Law of the Jungle, showing up for him with the sweetest presents. Even when the video quality is in 144p, there's a gazillion abrupt cuts and you can barely see jinmin without zooming in, Jimin will show up to knot the tie around Seokjin, laugh at every joke of his, and run across the stage to catch Seokjin if he slips.

As for Seokjin, the introverted king is quite cautious yet extremely generous when supporting Jimin. He's the one to remember every single preference and dislike, all the associated memories, and be mindful in every single scenario imaginable. While Jimin is nearly always the one telling us about the conversations, presents exchanged, Seokjin is the one with careful glances. There are literally hundreds of instances where Seokjin silently checks up on Jimin to see Jimin's reaction. Be it about offering Jimin bites of his food, telling him jokes to make him laugh, hovering around Jimin, celebrating his birthdays, carrying him on Seokjin's shoulders to cheer him up, hyping him up and appreciating his work, Seokjin will always be ready to tap into different sides of himself to make Jimin feel appreciated, adored, and loved. Which is truly lovely.

Now this is where sope and jinmin contrasts. While sope has that unshakable faith of acceptance in all forms since the dawn of time, jinmin is asking each other first what the other person needs them to be at this very moment, and then delving into acceptance. And this is discussed thoroughly by Jimin himself, when he talked about how initially Seokjin and he shared different perspectives on life on a vlive when he talked of how Seokjin taught him genuine happiness. The difference in their perspectives is what complements their dynamic and allows them to grow into better versions of themselves together.

About the missing element that you mentioned, is what I believe to be the idol personas of Jimin and Seokjin as both of them are individuals who are private to the point that they'd bluff about things on the spot to shift the focus of a conversation as far from them as possible. While this is significantly less noticeable in dynamics where at this one individual does not shy away from baring their heart open, prime example being Yoongi who struggles yet pours their heart out.

This is also seen in how Jimin has been keeping Seokjin as his wv profile picture for nearly three years without feeling the need or urge to explain or rationalize why he has done so. We rarely hear Jimin or Seokjin talking about the fact they shared the same military base for a year. With jinmin, they are true believers of the need-to-basis relay of information and will stick by it.

And jinmin blowing up in twt once again has truly been delightful. I did miss how we had a never-ending stream of videos and selfies of jinmin on the official twt account. Nothing warms my heart more than hearing that my little corner of internet space helped you through this winter. And for any jinmin thoughts at all, I am always more than happy to answer any texts, asks, and comments of all forms ^-^

Love and well wishes my fellow jinminnie 💜

[coralpolyp]

I'm not dead!

Hey look here's a redraw of the really terrible bit of digital art I did for last year's Mar13 day as proof! Apparently I didn't even finish the first one on time! Yikes!

I'm well aware that it's been a minute or two since I last posted anything on here or on AO3 - to be more precise, it's been since Splatoon 1 died and I wrote that 8000 word depressing thing - I don't know why 8000 words always seems to be my sweet spot, but it's good to know that I have one. That being said, and with Side Order: Dark Side Mix currently MIA, I thought it'd be a good idea to to have what it is that I'm doing right now on-record in some capacity, for the one or two people who were wondering.

The next few weeks are exam season, so I don't think it's going to be smooth sailing per se, but Dark Side Mix will be completed. After running into a snag with the opening act - namely with the fact that it sucks - I started reworking the entire fic from top to bottom under a new name...and then I lost motivation to do that because perfectionism set in, and I haven't really touched it in a little while.

In the time that I've been away from it, I feel like I've become increasingly aware of how that perfectionism negatively effects me and my work - namely the fact that very little of it actually exists. I mean, sure, people seem to like the stuff that does exist, but there isn't much, and a lot of things are unfinished - usually because I placed too much value on the potential of "the idea", and spent so long labouring over the start of it that by the 10,000 word mark I had realised the flaws of the idea and lost interest in it.

I can't help thinking that's a bit lame. Every other writer has 100s and thousands of words of terrible amateur works they can go back to and laugh at, before they created the masterpieces they're known for now, and my story is that I just kinda show up every once in a while.

I think there's a real beauty to that - creating for the sake of creation, with no fucks given. Maybe this isn't the finest example, but I finally started listening to My Dad Wrote a Porno recently and...I mean... the sheer lack of fucks given is well and truly a gift that keeps on giving. Same goes for Philosophy of the World. Or SMG4 back in like 2014. Or old Eddsworld stuff. There's just a certain carefree joy (or existential dread in the case of the Shaggs) to it all that you never get anywhere else. It's like the difference between a 30 second gesture drawing and 6 hours of carefully-deliberated-over anatomy.

All that is to say - Dark Side Mix is a fundamentally flawed story. It is not high art, it never will be. I should probably just get it out there in it's entirety for the world to see in the time I have available to write, and then move on to the next "brilliant-idea"-that's-actually-just-ok. Nobody likes an "idea guy" - what good is it to spend one's entire life going around saying "I never finished this story, but it was great in my head, and the bit that you can actually read was alright too,"? Creativity should be about getting in there, making a mess, and having fun - let fanfiction be fanfiction, with that being addressed to nobody but myself, because nobody else needed to hear it.

Oh, also, another reason for my absence besides creative block and exams - I'm getting into comics! That, and practising my art fundamentals a whole bunch - I don't think my drawabox is particularly interesting to look at, so I haven't exactly been posting it. I've decided that I want to try giving an idea I had for what would've been another depressing Squid Sister 8000-worder the comic treatment, although you shouldn't expect to see that anytime soon, considering how long it's gonna take, and the fact that I would want to release something like that in no more than two parts.

[nekosd43]

20 Questions with a Fanfic Author

Got tagged by @epersonae! Below the cut because it's a lot of Qs!

1. How many works on AO3?

36 apparently.

2. Total AO3 Word Count?

283,730

3. Top 5 Fics by Kudos

I had forgotten I would always love you (740 kudos) this is my greatest contribution to the taagnus ship and I'm glad it's still the top dog in terms of Kudos. My Critical Role fics will pass it eventually, but this is always #1 in my heart. I worked so hard on this one and put so much love and thought into it.

In Bloom, With You (674 kudos) I am still amazed how popular this fic is despite also being the fic that has gotten me the most hate (mild hate, but still). The people crave a Sexually Exploratory Aroace Caduceus Clay, what can I say.

Take me to Church (462 kudos) nooooo don't read this one it's wildly out of character for everyone involved. More Sexual Caduceus, but from way before the reveal he was aroace so I didn't have the mindfulness to go into it with the careful eye I do with In Bloom lol. 100% convinced the Caleb Widogast stans are who give this views still (it can't be Fjord stans, I know all seven of us lol).

Who Can Say? (435 kudos) WOW my very first fic! This was before I even shipped Taagnus, who knew such a time existed. I don't think this fic is very good anymore, I think the characters changed a lot since this was written so it's no longer as in character as I like, but it's got moments!

The Red String of Fate (414 kudos) BABY'S FIRST SMUT, REALLY? THE PEOPLE CRAVE MAGNUS BURNSIDES IN SEXUALLY SUBMISSIVE BONDAGE LOL.

4. What fandoms do you write for?

I wrote many an Adventure Zone fic, and dabbled in some Critical Role. I have a few original pieces on there but that's it.

5. Do you respond to comments?

soft yes. I used to be a lot better about it, and now I only really respond when I'm about to post a new chapter for something (notoriously people who comment on In Bloom know I'm about to post a new chapter because I go respond to comments as a way to hype myself up for posting)

6. Angstiest Ending?

I don't do a lot of angst? It's just not my tea. End over End is probably the angistest I get, since it's entirely set during the Suffering Game arc of TAZ and that's just... angst's natural environment. But even it ends on a positive note.

7. Fic with the Happiest Ending?

Either of my Taagnus long fics, Wizards and Woodsmen, Beauties and Beasts (fairytale AU) or I had forgotten I would always love you, they both end with the sweetest softest kindest endings because that's what I CRAVE.

8. Do you get hate?

I've spoken about this before but In bloom with you has gotten me a very WEIRD hatedom of people who do NOT interact with me at all but definitely have vagueposted about me. Its one of those things where like.. you can vaguepost about people sure, but when there is only ONE person doing the thing you are vagueposting about.... it's kinda obvious who that person is? So some hurtful things have been said, but never to me directly. I've learned to ignore it, and most of them have me blocked now anyway.

9. Do you write smut?

gosh yeah. Three of those top 5 kudos fics are smut lol.

10. Do you write crossovers?

the only one I could call a crossover is Wizards and Woodsmen, Beauties and Beasts and that's more of a... reimagining? I mush together ideas from TAZ and Beauty and the Beast, but it's not a cross over but it's also not NOT one?

11. Ever had a fic stolen?

If I have I don't know about it.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I don't think so but I would love to know if someone did.

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic?

I'm a bad writing partner so I don't typically offer myself up for cowriting. I put unnecessary stress on the other person with my bizarre writing habits where I don't write anything for two years and then suddenly produce a chapter in one day only to disappear again lol.

14. All time favorite ship?

ALL TIME? Taagnus forever bay bee! Fjorester has won my heart recently, and I love a good Polynein, but Taagnus will always be my heart <3

15. WIPs you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Something Sweet in Coming Home was going to be this whole thing I had planned out for a modern small town AU Taako/Magnus/Kravitz romance. I was so into it, I had all these ideas, I wrote the first chapter and then... nothing. I never was able to write a second one.

Any Port in the Storm is my white whale tho. As president, founder and sole member of the "Fjord Stone is a bisexual disaster that deserves to get fucked a lot by everyone" club, this fic should be so easy for me, ESPECIALLY now that campaign 3 gave me all these options with the Mighty Nein meeting Bells Hells AND Vox Machina but I just... hands don't work. Please, someone, finish this fic for me I want everyone to fuck him lol.

16. Writing strengths?

My weird quirk is if I write something out I can usually remember it in detail forever, so I'm very good at callbacks and foreshadowing because I can hold small details I wrote ages ago in my mind for a long time. people only really notice this when they REread my works tho because I take so fucking long to post that everyone else forgets lol.

17. Writing Weaknesses?

please don't make me describe an action scene, I will die. This includes too-ambitious sex scenes lol.

18. Thoughts on mixed language dialogue?

I've done it with fakey elvish, but otherwise no experience. I think it's cool tho.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

TECHNICALLY my first fic was Legend of Zelda Ocarina of time fanfic I would email to my friends every week. Then I did self-insert Lord of the Rings and Pirates of the Caribbean fic. But those were never published anywhere (thank the lord lol) so my first published fandom was The Adventure Zone.

20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written?

It's gotta be I had forgotten I would always love you, no contest.

tagging whoever wants to do it!

[ninjakk]

I'm the anon who's been reading ur SWaK fic! Thank you for answering the qi deviation question. it's making me see mdzs in a whole new light. I recently saw a post (askSythe on here) about the significance of the blood pool and how throwing bodies in there removes them from the reincarnation cycle and that's what the clans did to the Wen Remnants and JC is rumored to have led this siege and my heart HURTS. continuing this in next ask - 

Hey there anon 👋🏻

I'm glad you're enjoying my fic ☺️

As for the post you are referencing, I had not come across this until you mentioned it in your ask and have since went in search of it in order to reply. From what I can gather from the notes, it seems to have garnered a lot of controversy and subsequent backlash against the person who posted it originally.

I don't want to criticise other people's posts (especially when they have already received so much negativity from it), but with all due respect, I don't feel this was MXTXs intention with the blood pool. There's no mention of it in any version I have and I've also had my friend check the entire original novel for the phrase '永不超生', which is quoted in the original post, and we can't locate that in the Chinese text either. Regardless of that, I don't feel such a claim fits with the rest of the novel.

I could be completely wrong, as it's not something I've really thought about, nor do I have the cultural knowledge of the specific concept the original post is referring to. But, if the Wen remnants were forever barred from reincarnating due to their corpses being thrown into and essentially trapped in an apparent 'unbreakable prison' (which they managed to escape), why would WWX set an array around the blood pool to stop corpses escaping when he lived there back in his first life? 🤔 How were all the corpses able to crawl out and run amok the minute a rampaging WN broke the seal around the pool? It just doesn't make much sense to do that if the fierce corpses residing within are already trapped there.

There's also the fact WWX uses the blood pool as well. Which makes me question this theory even more so. It goes against WWX's character and ethics to stop souls from reincarnating, when his very cultivation method involves empathy and 'spending' resentment so the entities can move on. Granted, WWX used the blood pool to nurture corpses resentment so he was able to harness it and direct it where required - in this case, I think it's most likely to replenish those guarding the base of the burial mounds and keeping the Wen remnants safe. In theory, the corpses residing there would eventually use up their resentment and their souls would move on. Hence the need for a supply of new fierce corpses he can utilise - which he helps move on in turn. I really don't think WWX would do such a thing if the blood pool was anything other than a collection of water that held strong resentment due to being contaminated by the many corpses already present in its depths. If anything, it's a similar situation to when he found the sword in the Xuanwu of Slaughter's stomach, which had been practically marinating in all the resentment of the beast's past victims.

Obviously the Wen remnants were unable to move on after being mercilessly slaughtered, but that is simply because they were denied a proper burial and unjustly murdered in what was a most violent, unprovoked attack. Once the blood corpses had spent their lingering resentment, saving the very people who had killed them and the man who tried so hard to protect them, they finally moved on and turned to ash - which WN promptly collected to ensure they could finally be put to rest respectfully, as they should have been long ago. I see no indication that they would not move on because they were left in the blood pool specifically.

Of course, the way the cultivators involved in the siege not only murdered innocent people, but then treated their victims corpses with such disgusting disrespect is utterly appalling. Even though there is no evidence that the blood pool acted as a type of supernatural prison of sorts, it does not subtract from what the cultivators did. They still made sure the Wen remnants could not rest in peace by their heartless actions regardless.

As for JCs involvement in the siege, it's not actually a rumour that he led the siege, he most certainly, unequivocally did. It's actually outright stated a few times in the novel. Even when WN mentioned as such, WWX did not correct him on that specific accusation. Later still JGY also mentions JCs involvement, right in front of the man in question no less, with no argument to the contrary. Finally, MXTX has also spoken about JCs involvement in leading the siege and confirmed he had indeed formulated a plan based on WWX's weaknesses, as the text suggests. He was very much the driving force of the whole thing, despite knowing the Wen remnants consisted of innocent people who were either weak, old, or a toddler. He is responsible for many people being brutally murdered and shows no remorse for it either - which speaks volumes about his character.

[unhetalia]

jealous England sounds fun until he realizes america truly has no clue when someone is flirting with him or not. I mean how is England going to woo him in the future?

I could never say how these two get together but in terms of what I like to read (and don't get enough of) I always ALWAYS want Arthur rescuing Alfred so that would be fun to think about...

Also, it kind of goes against any previous "Arthur badly courting Alfred" headcanons that I've previously talked about but recently my mind has flipped to a different relationship scenario between Arthur and Alfred.

Arthur is still a horndog who has way more sex than anyone expects (except Francis, who has been accidentally Arthur's best friend for many years).

Alfred, on the flipside, is either a virgin or someone who has sex very very rarely. Exclusively into men (does he know?), very demisexual. Doesn't have much interest in sex, but this is because he's either never been a good match with the men he's had sex with or, if he's a virgin, it just doesn't seem like it'll be that interesting.

Arthur has never seen Alfred as someone to be sexually interested in BECAUSE he's so busy living in the past aka wishing for the times that Alfred was a child.

Alfred is the one who has been in love with Arthur since before his revolution. I like the headcanon people have that his bid for independence was his attempt at getting Arthur to see him as an equal. (It doesn't work.)

It's near-modern times. Maybe late 90s or early 2000s, Alfred is VERY used to unrequited love. He and Arthur are... cordial, but they have different circles.

It's something that hurts Alfred a lot. How Arthur was never interested in Alfred when he grew up. Arthur only ever wanted a colony - and apparently Alfred wasn't even a colony Arthur considered important. He knows Arthur and India were together for a long time, and Alfred sees the longing looks they still throw at each other. She tells Alfred she's completely over Arthur, but how can you date someone for 50 years* and look at them like THAT and have it be "nothing"?

Then we have one of the bits that changes for me, depending on what fic I want. Something needs to happen to get Arthur to see Alfred as he is. I've talked about this before, but in previous posts I've always gone: friends -> fall in love -> get over revolution hang ups -> end up together. NOW, for England, I want to change it up to: get over revolution hang ups -> friends/fall in love (these two are interchangeable to me for England) -> lovers. Meanwhile, Alfred's journey is: fall in love -> everything else (I find his journey can be more flexible).

SO what can make Arthur get over himself? I think it would need to be something big that'll shake him up a little. Alfred-in-distress is one way. Arthur realises how much he wants to save Alfred-the-Nation, and not just who Alfred-the-Colony ended up being.

OR, with the jealousy theme we've been having: another Nation starts pursuing Alfred, and Arthur is forced to see Alfred as an object of desire for someone else, which then jiggles something loose inside him and allows him to see Alfred as someone who is incredibly desirable.

Alas, in the new ... dynamic? Timeline? that I have for these two, Arthur doesn't do any wooing - even when he does fall for Alfred, or becomes jealous of others wanting Alfred, he'll desperately want that shit HIDDEN, and will be glad Alfred's oblivious.

Them actually ending up together needs to somehow happen without planning. At this point in time I've thought myself into a corner with these two. The world might need to be near-ending before the feelings get squeezed out in the open.

[thetruthisoutthereandbeyond]

The Comments

In the event that anything is deleted, here are the comments I refer to in my article.

MrsFizzle's comments:

Flashbacks

This confrontation also showed up in Reunification with a different teacher who uttered almost word for word what Miss Tompkins said to Shawn in this Flashback chapter.

Autumn in Philadelphia

The Darkest Night

A Boy and His (Teacher's Motorcycle)

The sus comments and replies on Reunification:

There are highly sus comments on her other BMW stories as well, but for now, those are irrelevant.

FFN:

I included this one because for some reason an account with the same name and pfp commented on MrsFizzle's BMW stories on AO3 but Reunification on FFN. Curious.

AO3:

She had her entire story outlined? Or the entire story was outlined for her?

So she reuses things from her other fandoms? Curious. That's not very inspired for a published author.

This one is from Reddit.

I'm including it because of the topic. The post was very clear about sharing something that you (as an author) created for your fics, yet MrsFizzle claims an OC dog as hers then backhandedly mentions that a friend actually created it.

Why respond with an OC someone else created when that was not the question asked? Why not talk about Ashley here? Or are we still trying to perpetuate the lie that Ashley is Jon's canon wife?

So very curious.

For the record, I looked up this OC dog and, of course, he is not tagged as an OC. Instead there is a Lieutenant-verse tag. I'm not sure why she has such an aversion to using OC tags when she has no issue using OCs.

What really bothers me is she does not credit the dog's creator. Not once. Instead full credit goes to her for the character. In her final chapter AN on the longest story featuring the dog, she has the audacity to refer people to read a story the friend wrote set in her world, but does not give the friend credit for the dog.

I would think you would credit out of respect for the friendship if nothing else. But no, instead she misleads readers once again. Two stories, no credit.

No wonder MrsFizzle was so comfortable taking what she wanted from someone she saw as a rival without crediting.

Read the above thread. Now read this one again:

Anything sound familiar?

She really is bold, leaving these comments all over. Or shameless. I'm honestly not sure. I find her behavior baffling and inexplicable most of the time.

This was a comment that came out in the post-chapter 70 of Autumn in Philadelphia rush to finish Reunification.

What did chapter 70 include? Jon sitting Shawn down and talking to him about his decision to take him to counseling after a trip he, Shawn, and Audrey were going to take.

It is one hell of a coincidence that MrsFizzle suddenly includes Jon getting Shawn counseling after they and Ashley return from the Europe trip.

At this point, Reunification is one coincidence after another after another.

Since both authors appear to be NCIS fans, I think Gibbs' Rule #39 is applicable: There is no such thing as a coincidence.

It's also interesting that MrsFizzle says she didn't know about this stuff until recently. Both to MA and to Reddit she presents herself as an authority on the foster care system as far back as 2022.

Curiouser and curiouser.

The Ashley comments

This is her friend that helped her hide the plagiarism accusations on FFN again hailing Ashley's greatness post harassment claims by MA.

The truth about Ashley's origins:

I don't have a comment for this one that isn't snark. But this is a reader who admits to knowing nothing about the fandom or characters.

I really did try not to chose a side while I investigated this because I don't have access to what went on behind the scenes. All I see and can judge is what the authors put out there.

What MrsFizzle puts out does not win her any favor. In fact, a lot of what she says strengthens the claims against her. She mentions to readers they should/can contact her privately. Apparently, everything is done privately with her, which is fair, but she really has no public support that I can find. It's hard to tell what people really think of her. This may mean nothing at all, but paired with her very odd behavior in the BMW fandom, it may mean an awful lot, especially since MA says she has evidence that MrsFizzle got readers to help harass her.

With MA, you can see how hurt and stressed she is in her Tumblr posts, AO3 author's notes, and Reddit comments over what MrsFizzle did to her. She never names this person but you can track the rise and fall of her frustration with the situation. And that's really all I can say negatively about her. From Tumblr to Reddit, she appears to be highly regarded, even by those who don't seem to have any fandom overlap with her. She comes off as highly supportive of others in and out the BMW fandom and is much appreciated by those around her.

And this lead into their online personas.

MrsFizzle's persona changes so much that it makes it look like she's trying to hide something (see the main article for her changing Reddit persona). It's a very noticeable shift especially in the lead up to her leaving Reddit altogether or at least no longer posting/commenting.

MA is consistent. She's upset, stressed, and worried at times, but her story doesn't change. She doesn't change how she talks to people or what she tells them although over time she does give more information about the situation. Again, she is highly supportive regardless of what she's dealing with and gives measured advice on dealing with plagiarism.

Going back to the previous comment, MrsFizzle's response to it is barely five months old. She claims Reunification "remains one of my favorites I've that worked on".

Innocuous response on the surface but having spent as much time in these two worlds as I have, I wonder why that is? Does she delight that much in hurting another author?

Then I think back to that Reddit remark about envy and wanting to bring others down and I really do wonder why this story is so special with all that was going on around it?

For MA her story is a 20+ year labor of love. For MrsFizzle her story appears to be a two year jaunt into tormenting another author.

And now we're back to the Ashley lie:

If I was MrsFizzle I would be ashamed and embarrassed that I stooped to this level just to avoid acknowledging where my ideas came from. What could be so horrible about tipping your hat to someone whose story clearly impacted you?

The truth is out there.

Each and everyone one of you can read it for yourself and see it.

-DS

Much as you try to bury it, the truth is out there. Greater than your lies, the truth wants to be known.

-Agent Mulder, X-Files

[adanseying]

Top 5 music artists and your top 5 favourite fanfics that you've written :))

have said this before but I think I’m generally bad at top 5s when it comes to music, but if I’m just answering off the top of my head would say: florence and the machine, halsey, fiona apple, marina and the diamonds and either taylor or lorde. also have long standing soft spots for dum dum girls +  mazzy star so honorable mentions there 

for fics: okay full disclosure that i have yet to complete any of my multi chapter fics on ao3 am hoping to change that but. since it hasn’t happened yet will be listing my top 5 one shots I’ve written. Now on my current acc (nazyalenskys) I have 7 one shots but one of them is a very short drabble that barely counts, and then I did used to write on another acc (monstermetaphor) which I orpahned and so those fics are still floating around the internets, now most of the fics I wrote on my previous acc were deeply cringe But there were two one shots I was genuinely proud of and so I have those bookmarked. So I’ll do a top 5 from my current acc and then include those two as honorable mentions <3

I’m Your Puppet (trc) https://archiveofourown.org/works/58326868     I genuinely think this is my best written fic tbh (there are snippets from some of my ongoing fics I like more, but this one definitely holds up the best as a whole imo). It’s a canon compliant Adam in the Dream thieves fic (although does feature a pre TRB flashback) that’s largely an Adam char study and Adansey relationship study (other Adam relationships feature but AG is focused on most as one would expect from me.) of sorts, includes some *missing scenes* which are easily insertable into canon (one of my favorite types of fic to read and write) and in particular I’ve always thought Adam’s hallucinations in that book were underexplored in fic so this was my attempt to do something with that concept. There are also some themes about homophobia and internalized homophobia, because that apparently ends up in like all my fics.

you’re a doll, your flawless(pll) https://archiveofourown.org/works/40940655 this is Also a character study with shippy components (mainly an Alison study with an Aria/Alison focus although it has snippets of other pairings like Emison and Sparia) that’s canon compliant / missing scene esque (set before and during the first secret so contains dialogue from the ep) and way more than in the former fic internalized homophobia/biphobia is a big theme (I mean. It’s an Alison character study it’s kind of a prerequisite imo). I just had a lot of fun writing this one. 

something to break into your golden thinking (trc) https://archiveofourown.org/works/54964330. Adansey, 5+1 midnight phone calls between them pre during and post trc. Okay, I will say that this was my first trc fic and so there are some bugs in the writing when you compare it to things I’ve written more recently Mainly in that I think you can tell I was still figuring out how to write Gansey at this point and so some of his voice/dialogue feels… off lmao when revisiting I feel like I did a good job with Adam’s voice and internal drama but you can tell Gansey took some time for me to figure out writing wise, nowadays I think I’m way better at writing Gansey and he’s actually one of my favorite povs to write in Reading TRB, so this was a starting point. That aside this is just a very self indulgent fic concept and so I have a lot of affection for it 

underestimated (pll) https://archiveofourown.org/works/58911202.  sort of an Aria char study, sort of a Monaria piece, sort of about Aria and Mona both being haunted by Alison. Another canon compliant fic that takes place at a few different moments pre and during the series. My favorite part of writing this was actually not the shippy stuff, surprisingly, my favorite part was getting to write a bit of my thoughts on Aria’s thoughts on the Montgomery family even though that’s not the focus of the fic it kind of snuck in there 

Radley Blues (pll) https://archiveofourown.org/works/51754867 This one is super short and mostly introspection, an exploration of what’s going on in Mona’s head while she’s in Radley post s2-early s3. Features her having some Gay thoughts about Hanna Alison and Spencer, because duh. I actually came up with the concept when I was reading the pll books since if you haven’t read them Mona does die when she falls off the cliff in that verse, so I had this idea that with Mona’s hyper adrenaline’s reality (which ik is just a term the show came up with to avoid getting flack for stigmatizing a real mental illness but for the sake of going with the in universe logic..) she could have intuition about what happened in the world of the books that gave her a feeling about a version of her being dead, so that’s the inspiration for how the fic starts…

honorable mentions from the previous acc:

the least ray of light (community) https://archiveofourown.org/works/27728689.  this is a Britta/Annie darkest timeline fic fused with a Carmilla au, lmao. I will say I actually have conflicted feelings about them as a ship / am less into them now compared to when I wrote this however I still think the components I tapped into in their dynamic here were cool if I say so myself. Also I definitely think this is the hottest thing I’ve written on ao3 (that isn’t saying that much because I am very much Not a smut writer and this isn’t that either, but this biting scene was like the closest I’ve come to it. tbh) 

sweet fascination (aftg) https://archiveofourown.org/works/24226327

a pre series fic about Renee with some Renee/Dan that was supposed to be the beginning of a Renee centered series, I will say that I wrote multiple aftg fics on that acc and this is the only one I would consider reposting + writing a continuation of on my current acc (not to say I don’t have other aftg fic ideas because I do, but they’d be very different from the others I wrote on that acc). Also deeply embarrassing that it’s still one of like 14 fics for that pairing what are ya’ll doing 

Ty!

[foxstens]

HIII okie so since you've been in the fandom for like a decade if I recall correctly, how much do you feel it has changed ?

oh wow. that sure is a question. honestly my memory sucks and there were times when i was in an on-and-off kind of thing with the fandom. i also had pretty heavy andreil tunnel vision until somewhere before tsc. and as i've gotten older, read the books more, my own perception of the fandom and the books has changed a lot through the years.

but from what i can recall, and from the corners of the fandom i've been in. there used to be a lot. a lot a lot a lot a lot of aaron discourse. like seeing a neutral post on aaron felt like a miracle. nobody ever mentioned seth. there used to be a lot more kandreil. i don't think i saw much thea discourse until very recently, which is weird because apparently it was so bad at some point that even nora noticed (maybe it was just a twitter thing). i didn't see much kerejean until tsc. i also didn't see all that much talk about the ravens and the cult situation/their lifestyles until tsc.

fancasts used to be everywhere, and i never thought much of it until it just kind of stopped being a thing. pretty much everyone knew about the extra content and we just sort of accepted it and built off of it. even the discourse around the ec didn't come until later. whereas now a lot of people don't even know it exists - understandable since nora deleted it.

there also used to be a lot more focus on andrew, he was probably the fandom favourite and the most dissected character. at least in my experience. there also used to be more fics just posted in tumblr posts? it's still a thing but it's just way less.

there used to be a lot of really long posts with headcanons in bullet points, which you never see anymore. relating songs to the books was definitely a thing but probably not as frequent as it is now.

this is just stuff i can remember based on what i, personally, have seen. just the entire fandom atmosphere has changed a lot and also the way i interact with it has changed.

but it's also stayed the same, there's still a lot of analysis posts, be it about the writing style or plot points or character behaviours. there's still a lot of 'taking screenshots of in-game text' or quoting entire scenes, which is something i haven't really seen in other fandoms (haven't really been in other book fandoms to this extent tho). liveblogging your journey of reading the books always has been and always will be a thing, probably.

now trying to answer your question, i'm not sure? i'm not sure how much any fandom changes in this amount of time since this is the only one i've been in for this long. i think a lot of the changes are because tsc+tgr exist now. the original trilogy plus the extra content were around for so long that we just analyzed everything to death, at least that's what it felt like. it does feel like there was slightly less discourse overall, because of the general tendency towards fandom purity culture nowadays but also because i rarely saw new fans, at least compared to now. and, again, the way i do fandom has also changed, so of course it feels different.