#built on fandom so it feels like being shut out from certain parts of fandom for no reason at all. anyways.

[gojosbf]

*sees awesome gifs* *wants to reblog it* *realises that the op has me blocked* *is mad at op for being a cunt with amazing skills*

[janinemel]

A Gift

author’s note: hi, sorry for not being active. ive been dealing with life but im in a stable place now. please feel free to send in requests to keep me writing!

Pairings: Egon Spengler x reader

Warning(s): a bit out of character, i haven’t been active much in the fandom.

Not proofread

Every year was the same, you spend Christmas alone and spend New Years alone. You were okay with that, until you met Egon Spengler. A local Ghostbuster, you met him during one of his busts because you had called them for help. Your apartment was being weird and you put up with it but when you began to see floating people standing by the end of your bed? You immediately called them up and asked them to come help you.

After they arrived and dealt with the problem, a certain Ghostbuster recognized your collection of books that were filled with ecosystems. He asked about it and you told him that you had a hobby of reading about ecosystems. Eventually, you both began to talk about it while the rest cleaned up the place and haven’t noticed how much time went by until ‘Peter’ interrupted you two. When you were given a quota of the payment for their services. you were surprised to see that it was cheap and you decided to give the payment up front.

The night ended with Egon dragging Peter away who was protested about the quota you were given and Ray apologizing before shutting the door. After that, you were intrigued with the Ghostbuster named Egon and hoped you would see him again. Christmas was coming up, you didn’t really have friends to spend time with so you just decorated your apartment while watching old Christmas movies. Maybe, because of how alone you’ve spent most of your life, you felt alone for the first time after meeting Egon.

Was it a bad thing? You’d like to think it wasn’t, after all, you didn’t know anything about him except his name and that he collected spores and fungus. It was nice talking to someone, especially about stuff you enjoyed and now, you just yearned for company.

Out of curiosity and desperation, you took out your embroidery supplies and began to embroider a handkerchief. You were thinking about making him a customized handkerchief with his initial and some fungi on it. If he asks why you made him this, you’d tell him that the holidays was coming up and you wanted to give him something in return for giving you a deal on their services.

After a few days, you finally built the courage to go see him and give him the handkerchief. You baked cookies just in case he thought it was weird that you brought him something and not for everyone else. You put effort into your appearance, telling yourself that it wasn’t weird and it was okay. (Was it?). After a nice walk, you found that the Ghostbusters headquarters wasn’t far from your apartment and just a little walk away. Your nerves began to act up, you felt yourself shake a bit and you unknowingly chewed on your bottom lip as you got closer.

Standing outside, you cleared your throat and prepared yourself. Part of you wanted to walk back to your apartment but the other part of you wanted to go in. You didn’t know how this was going to turn out and that scared you. What if Egon thinks this is weird and turns you away? Pushing yourself, you opened the door and peeked inside. It was very large inside, a car, equipment, tables, etc. It looked cool, you’ve never seen anything like this.

“Hello?” You called out, walking inside and looked around.

You noticed a woman sitting at a desk, she was flipping through a magazine and chewed on gum. You studied her for a bit, her hair was red and she wore a comfortable outfit. You liked it, you wanted to ask where she got her cardigan from. “Uh, hello?” You held the container of baked goods a bit too tightly for your liking, you never had an issue with speaking to strangers. The woman looked up and put down her magazine,”I am sorry, I didn’t hear you. How may I help you?” She asked. Her accent was heavy, it was nice to listen to.

“Oh, umh, I’m looking for the Ghostbusters? I would like to speak with them if that’s okay?” You asked. The woman nodded with a little smile,”Of course, just give me a second. Wait here, please.” She stood up and made her way around the desk. She walked upstairs, you heard faints voices and footsteps. You began to feel more nervous, was this weird? Maybe, you should run off and never come back.

Before you had a chance to make a final decision, you heard them coming down the stairs and you felt yourself stiffen. Here’s now or never. You felt your face warm up a bit when you seen Egon, he wore a lab coat and a suit. He looked so handsome in his attire and you felt yourself stare a little too long. “Thank you for waiting, here they are,” The woman says with a gentle smile before returning to her desk.“Oh, it’s Egon’s lover.” Peter teased, earning a little shove from Egon. You chuckled a bit at that, you shook your head and cleared your throat. “My name is [your name], if you had forgotten. Uh, I just wanted to come by and thank you personally for helping me.”

You showed them the container of baked goods, Ray took it and looked inside. He gasped,”Oh, you’re such an angel! They look and smell wonderful!” He complimented, you smiled at him and nodded your head. “Thank you, I am glad to hear that.” You fidgeted with the end of your scarf. Peter looked at you and back at Egon. He rose an eyebrow and nudged Ray’s arm. Ray stopped eating to ask him what, Peter motioned his head to you. After realizing, Ray nodded and closed the lid to the container.

“Thank you once again, Peter and I have something to do! Egon, show our guest to the door!” Ray and Peter rushed upstairs without another word.

Egon gave a weird look up at them as they ran up the stairs and looked at you. The two of you walked towards the door but you stopped and turned to him. You gave him a little nervous smile,”I…Uh, I wanted to give you something, if that’s okay with you?” You asked in such a nervous voice. Egon nodded and walked closer to you. You reached into your pocket and took out a neatly folded handkerchief. You extended your hands to him, Egon gently took it and looked at it.

He examined it and found that his initial and some mushrooms were embroidered on it. He never had anyone make him anything like this and he wasn’t sure how to thank you. You gave him a little smile and Egon felt something. “You told me you have a collection of spores and fungus so…I thought adding that would be nice…Do you like it?” You asked. Egon nodded and folded it up,”Yes, I like it very much. Thank you,” He said, rather too quickly which you noticed.

You felt yourself chuckle at that and fixed your scarf. “Well, I should be going. It..It was nice talking to you again.” You said. Egon tucked the handkerchief into his square pocket of his suit and he nodded, stepping away. You gave him a smile before opening the door to leave until you both heard Peter.

“Just ask each other out already!” He yelled.

You gave Egon an embarrassed look and grabbed the collar of your scarf. Egon straightened his tie a bit and walked closer to you. “Let’s talk outside without being disturbed.” He muttered, opening the door a bit more for the two of you. You two stepped outside and you gave a nervous laugh,”Peter doesn’t have a sense of boundaries, doesn’t he?” You said.

Egon pushed up his glasses,”Unfortunately but that is one of his qualities as he says.” You laughed a bit at that and fixed your jacket as you felt the wind. “He’s right, I’ve been wanting to talk to you again.” He said which made you happy, he was thinking of you? You smiled at him, you really hoped this worked out because you really enjoy his company.

“Assuming, you’d like to. Would you like to go out on a date?” Egon said, quickly and you noticed it again.

You laughed a bit, covering your mouth and he felt a bit embarrassed, was that a no? You nodded your head,”Yes, Egon. I would love to.” You say, reaching over and fixing the handkerchief so that a little mushroom was peeking over his pocket. Egon smiled a bit? He cleared his facial expression before clearing his throat,”I will pick you on tomorrow at 8, if that’s a reasonable time?” He asked. You nodded and began to walk down the steps.

“I look forward to it,” You say, turning to him.

Egon smiled slightly, you smiled because he looked so handsome with a smile and you turned away to walk home. Egon watched you leave, fidgeting with his handkerchief and smiled upon remembering that you made it for him. A gift, from someone he found interesting and hoping would be more than that.

[lonestatus]

hi! i'm doing a presentation on the impact and community of tumblr for my media studies final and i wanted to reach out to my mutuals and fav blogs with some questions that relate to my topic. i would so totally love and appreciate if you could answer some of these for me.

it would be so totally rock and roll and awesome and amazing and i'll literally love you forever and ever and ever! :)

thank you thank you thank you!!!!

the questions:

1. how is tumblr different from other social media platforms?

2. how has the tumblr community affected you as a person/online presence?

3. do you feel more inclined to post more personal or private aspects of your life and or opinions on tumblr rather than other apps? as in do you feel you are less likely to be judged on tumblr than other platforms?

4. what are your favorite aspects of tumblr?

5. what would you do if tumblr got shut down?

6. what are some things that only tumblr bloggers would know/understand?

or

7. are there certain traditions on tumblr that you think other media sites wouldn't understand?(an example being our site wide celebration of the ides of march)

8. what are some of the largest fandoms/inner communities on tumblr? are you apart of these fandoms/communities? if yes, what is that like for you?

9. do you find tumblr to be educational in terms of academics? among other things such as politics and general life experiences?

10. all in all, how has this app changed your perspective on social media, the world, your life, and so on.

please add anything else you find to be important!!

aww im honored!

To be truthful, I don't spend much time on any other social media, so I don't have much experience! But in comparison with insta and pinterest, there's far less reason to use the for you tab. Obviously staff has pushed it in recent updates, but it still holds true, at least for me. I think a big draw for me is the built-in customization in general, with tools for making personal blog themes and post tools.

Since I don't use anything but Tumblr, It can be a little hard to connect with my peers who use Twitter or Snapchat, as we don't really have many other ways to connect outside of e-mail or text, which I think have fallen off in popularity with the rise of social media.

I think Tumblr satisfies my parasocial needs pretty well! I think because of the customization you can accumulate a following that's pretty chill. And if there are weirdos, you can block them very easily.

I've prattled on and on about about how cool customizing most aspects of your experience here is, but to reassert my love for it: When customization goes; I go.

While I have some experience with HTML, I might not make my own website on Neocities or a similar platform. I would probably make a Pintrest again. But if they make it so you can register an e-mail to a Neocities domain I'd be down.

I think Tumblr users like to self-aggrandize so I think most of our traditions and mechanics could be understood by other platform's users... Though maybe a lack of algorithms? I hear a lot of people talking about for you pages on other social media. But again, Tumblr's pushed the for you tab instead of the dash, so I'm not sure that's going to be a distinction for much longer...

8. I don't participate in fandom so I wouldn't know! That's not to say that I don't ever see anything from fandom, but really I'm not sure if I'm missing out on anything. I'm content with the content I do see. I guess you could say I'm part of the "My friends" fandom ^-^.

9. While there's plenty of academic discussion on Tumblr, I don't think there's a replacement to more genuine methods of education. However, there have been things I've been informed of through Tumblr, such as posts summarizing and linking news articles, scientific journals, etc. and methods of accessing them (such as 12ft). In that regard, I suppose that Tumblr has been a fine source of education and keeping up-to-date, though it's far from perfect.

10. I think being able to curate my experience has helped make me less tolerant of ads, weird posts, and other distractions. But I think the greatest impact it's had on me has been all the friends I've made.

[polyghostfacehours]

Okay a thought that I cannot get out of my head. So enjoy:

So we can all agree that Billy is definitely a dom in your relationship. It's much easier for Stu to fall into a more submissive role with you especially when Billy is in a mood. So one night he has you and Stu on the bed together while he rests silently in a chair not too far from the bed. The silence has you and Stu exchanging nervous glances while Billy eyes you both down. He begins to start calling off different commands to the both of you. You quickly realize what the night has in store for the both of you. Billy sometimes enjoys watching his two favorite people listen to his every command and writhe together while simultaneously begging him for his touch. After slowly talking you both through stripping each other down he tells you to lay back while Stu is to climb on top of you. His warm breath fans over your face as you both get situated and silently chuckle to each other. His eyes are warm and comforting but your body breaks out into shivers because of the icy stare being sent to the both of you. He instructs Stu to slowly push into you and once you two have built up a rhythm the real fun begins. You're both clinging to each other moaning and panting at the other while Billy just sits with that damn smirk glued to his features. He softly speaks up occasionally telling one of you to shift a certain way or to move your hand placement. While you were skeptical in the beginning each correction has one or both of you pausing to groan at the new angles or stimulation. He's merely showing his knowledge of both of your bodies and the realization has the both of you shaking. When he can sense you're both close he only continues to watch and occasionally praise the both of you. Stu's blond hair sticks to his sweat covered forehead and his eyes are glued shut as he tries to hold off his own pleasure to get you there first. Your leg is hiked up his back and you focus on rocking back and forth with him as you try to chase your own release silently begging that he'll get there too. Billy can sense the building frustration as you and Stu both are right on the edge but can't seem to get there. Stu's breathing becomes more labored as he begins to feel a disappointment grow in his chest because you haven't screamed out your release yet. He's pleading with his own body at this point to just let go but neither of you can get there. A rather loud chuckle breaks both of your concentration and has your heads snapping towards Billy. "Pathetic" he laughs out. His praises are long gone now but maybe a change of pace will help the both of you. The tears of frustration are building in your eyes as you both reach for him. All you need is his say so or his touch for the both of you to let go. He knows it too. That's the dangerous part. He knows that with his close proximity your bodies are waiting for his command or his touch to let you know you can finish. Now if he wasn't there and you and Stu were doing this alone there would be no problem in getting you both off but since Billy was just watching and waiting your bodies were trained to his command. He had already made sure of it. And he was going to use it to his advantage.

Okay hopefully this doesn't already exist out there in the world of fics but I only just joined this little fandom a couple days ago and haven't been able to find very many fics. So this idea has been plaguing me for days and I needed to get it out there. If someone wants to continue or make the idea their own please go ahead! But I needed to get it out of my head and into the world somehow. Also, I love your writing and it's nowhere near your caliber but please be easy with me cause I adore the things you write and I'm sensitive 😂

❤❤👻

AAAAAHHHHH HOLY SHIT THIS WAS SO GOOD.

GHOST ANON YOU DID SO WELL.

I AM IN LOVE WITH THIS SCENARIO. YOUR BRAIN = THE FUCKING GALAXY

Anon, and I mean this sincerely, if you ever want to send in more stuff like this please do. I really loved it <3

[kitsu-katsu]

About revived (by Derivakat)

(Disclaimer: Nothing against Derivakat, I think her songs are amazing in general and she's very talented, I simply have a bone to pick with these lyrics and characterization)

So um, here's my counter to some of the lyrics because fuck it, I'm tired and fueled by spite, let's go:

Let's start with the chorus:

"White streak in my hair but no stress now" - Funnily incorrect, cc!Wilbur confirmed that the white hair is from stress itself, it's not about the revival process alone. Also just by reasoning, I cannot imagine what might have been stressful about spiralling and believing that the world is out to crush you, believing that you're the scum of the Earth as well, only to die, spend 13 and half years in dark isolation and then being jolted back up to life missing huge chunks of information, really cannot fathom how that might be stressful /s

"I've seen hell, but this is a bit more my style" - True you know? It's awesome that he's said that he's over the moon about being alive again after spending 13 and a half years of pure isolation in the dark, screming until his throat was hoarse. But coming from the tone of it, I'd like to point out that Wilbur's also still passively suicidal and self harms (check out the part under "He doesn't love TNT, he self-harms with it" in this post)

"A decade of time to make everything mine" (also counts for "This is my sunrise, this is my dawn, this is what I've waited for all along. All of this time, all this is mine. MINE. MINE. MINE!")- Honestly, based on what he's been doing, no prejudices, forget everything fandom's said: he doesn't really seem to want to "make everything his", does he? This perception mostly comes from him saying "This is my sunrise, this is mine!" in the original revival stream, however, if you forget about common fandom perception, what's so evilly framed about a guy who spent 13 and a half years of isolation in the dark saying "this is my sunrise!" after watching the sun coming up again for the first time since his death, in which he was extremely emotionally unstable? Like for real?

Now onto the verses:

"Am I the bad guy? I'll be the bad guy again" and "I've come back hell-bent" - Now, he has said that: “Here’s the thing, Tommy. I, I, I, I know I was bad, and I know I can redeem myself, but like, you know, there’s a little bit of fun in being bad, you know, we’ve spoken about this.” - (Wilbur’s resurrected gentleman of L'manburg: 11:31, 5th May), BUT, since then he's also expressed genuine remorse for his worse actions during Pogtopia (check out the parts under "He really regrets what happened in Pogtopia" and "Wilbur cares. A LOT" in this post), a wanting to redeem himself and truly become better and... uh... OH! He's also admitted that he's afraid he scares people and cried when Ranboo said that he was "an alright person". For real, just watch the Healthy Competition stream and read this reddit post by cc!Wilbur

The reddit post in question, just in case:

"You think I cared? It was always a means to an end" - So false. Just... so false. Ok, so quick one, let's review the actual lines said originally about him "not caring for L'manburg" in full:

“Uh, one thing, I didn’t actually really care about L'Manberg, I just cared about, you know, sticking it to the man. Actually, I cared about L'Manberg for the sole reason that I could use it to stick it to the man.” - (Wilbur’s resurrected gentleman of L'manburg: 24:18, 5th May)

“Look, I- Okay, I said it wrong. Look, I did care about- I did care about L'Manberg, but I cared about it for- You would call it the wrong reasons, but I, I- Just don’t think about it, don’t think about it too hard. Look, L'Manberg’s gone now, we’ve got that, you know- That, that wart on my side is gone, you know. I salute it, I salute it, you know, it was a great- It was a great place.” - (Wilbur’s resurrected gentleman of L'manburg: 25:18, 5th May)

“Look, Tommy, I’m gonna reiterate for you once more because I don’t think you quite understood, and that’s okay, you know, you don’t need to understand everything. I did care about L'Manberg. I did, I did. A rose by any other name would still smell as sweet, Tommy. L'Manberg would have been as loved by me had it been called Bimbum and was built in the middle of the desert.” - (Wilbur’s resurrected gentleman of L'manburg: 26:05, 5th May)

“The actual location, and the actual things it was, it were, were not important to me. It’s the thing it stood for. Which was freedom, liberty, and sticking it to the man, Tommy!” - (Wilbur’s resurrected gentleman of L'manburg: 26:26, 5th May)

“We were a family, Tommy. We were…” - (Wilbur’s resurrected gentleman of L'manburg: 27:26, 5th May)

So as you may see, he retracts himself immediately and explains his feelings with more nuance

Then, let's look at the more recent confession to Ranboo:

“I told Tommy that I didn’t actually care about L'Manberg, and that it was just like a tool for me to use to gain like, you know, power and stuff. But it’s not, it’s not true.” - (Wilbur’s A Year Later: 26:36, 3rd Aug)

“L'Manberg is- was really important to me. And it is still to this day.” - (Wilbur’s A Year Later: 26:47, 3rd Aug)

“I want it to, em, I want its history to live on not as a stain caused by me, you know. I basically just took a big shit on the history books, it feels like. I wanna, I wanna make it, I wanna make it feel like it was, you know, it was something that happened. You know, it was a great thing, you know, think of the good times. The- The years of safety. Well, not years, but you know.” - (Wilbur’s A Year Later: 26:47, 3rd Aug)

If this got more explicit I'd be literally hitting you over the head with it. Anyway, check out the parts under "Wilbur cared. A LOT" and "He really cared and cares about L'Manburg, and didn't want its ideals twisted to hur others with" in this post

"So who cares? So what? I'm not calming down" and "Shut up! And listen" - “Tommy, shut up! I mean, Tommy, come over here. Tommy, come over here, come over here, man. It’s cool, it’s cool, it’s cool. Sorry, I, I-” (Alivebur)

– (Wilbur’s A Deck of Cards with a Green Smile on them: 26:08, 31st May)

That line's totality gets often cut down, erasing the immediate apology after the loss of cool. Furthermore, I'd argue that him "not calming down" in general is mainly due to his euphoria and overexcitement during certain scenes where it makes complete sense for him to be feeling like that, and in a broader sense, he has a tendency to say things in the heat of the moment and out of impulsivity that he turns to later regret from all the way back at Pogtopia. Him not calming down now is either out of impulsivity or outright euphoria to be out of limbo, not necessarily an evil thing. And when he percieves he should calm down, he tries his best to do it, or apologizes for snapping

“I’m sorry I wasn’t, you know, entirely on the same page. But, man, I promise you, I’ve calmed down, you know, I’m all, I’m all settled in. I understand, you know, what’s changed, what hasn’t, who’s new, who’s old, you know, who’s still about, you know, who… Who, uh… uh… Who trusts me and stuff.” - (Wilbur’s A Year Later: 15:04, 3rd Aug)

“I relived that explosion in my head so many times man. And, and, and I- I get that you don’t, you don’t trust me, I do, but like, man, look at me, bro, I’m not gonna do it again. I’m not gonna- I’m not gonna hurt you again.” - (Wilbur’s A Year Later: 21:21, 3rd Aug)

(Check out the parts under "Wilbur cares. A LOT", "Paranoia and distrustfulness are integral parts of his character", "Self-loathing and self-sabotage are also integral parts of his character", "He hesitated regarding the button tons of times" and "He feels inhuman. He knows that people see him as a freak, evil or crazy and that makes him feel dehumanized" in this post)

"There's nothing wrong with me" - BUDDY. Wilbur drowns in self-hatred, what are you talking about? The man got caught off guard and cried when someone said "you're an alright person"... He's worried that he scares people, he knows how others see him on top of his own self-hatred

“TommyInnit, as you know, is just, he thinks I’m insane. I’m not insane, chat, I’m not insane.” - (Wilbur’s The Festival: 4:30, 16th Oct)

“See, I’m not so crazy, Tommy. I know what I’m doing.” - (Wilbur’s The Festival: 16:40, 16th Oct)

“I’ve told you, I’m not crazy, Tommy. I know what I’m doing, and this is genuinely the best thing we could do right now.” - (Wilbur’s The Festival: 17:18, 16th Oct)

“I’m not crazy! How am I crazy?!” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 43:18, 17th Oct)

“Everyone I seem to meet has this deep intrisnic feeling of disgust towards me. Jack Manifold seemed to be quite nice to me, but I reckon he, I could feel it, you know, in his stare. But like, you don’t have that. I can tell you’re a good guy.” - (Wilbur’s resurrected gentleman of L'manburg: 30:24, 5th May)

“Quackity, I’ve, I’ve, I’ve, I’ll be honest you with you, I’ve lost everything, man. I, um. I’ve lost decades of my life. I’ve lost my- most of the people who cared about me. Some people don’t even know I’m back yet, and I, and I think that’s probably for the best. So I feel like that does humble a man. That really humbles a man, you know?” – (Wilbur’s A Deck of Cards with a Green Smile on them: 1:00:52, 31st May)

“Listen, Phil, I met, I met Quackity. After you very kindly lent me your house. I went and met him. Yeah! I met up with him, and I hadn’t seen him in ages. It was, I’m gonna say it, it was nice. It was a nice time. I- I- It felt good, it felt, uh, you know, he didn’t, he didn’t seem afraid of me, which is cool.” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 7:38, 25th July)

“Not many people do. I mean, Phil, you don’t seem afraid of me, you’re not afraid of me, are you, Phil?” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 8:03, 25th July)

“Good, good. 'Cause I’m not afraid of you.” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 8:10, 25th July)

“Why? Why? … No, no, no, no, no, not the, not the bit about the, not the bit about the right foot, the why don’t you think I’m a bad person?” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 35:13, 25th July)

“Can I be real with you, man? I think I scare people.” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 36:30, 25th July)

“I mean, like I, I, I, I don’t think I, I- I think a lot of people share your idea, but they share your idea in trying to- trying to keep me from hurting them, you know? Like they’ve seen what I can do, and they don’t want me to do it again, so they adopt your emotion in order to do it.” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 36:46, 25th July)

“Dream is- He’s had his comeuppance, and I have not! My comeuppance was apparently not good enough for this people. They’re just waiting, they’re waiting for the next thing for me to slip up on, and, Ranboo, I’m not gonna fucking slip up, Ranboo. I’m different.” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 38:07, 25th July)

“I’m living in eternal limbo, again. I’ve been through limbo, I’m out of limbo, and socially, I’m still in this limbo.” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 38:36, 25th July)

(Check out the parts under "He feels inhuman. He knows that people see him as a freak, evil or crazy and that makes him feel dehumanized", "Paranoia and distrustfulness are integral parts of his character" and "Self-loathing and self-sabotage are also integral parts of his character" in this post)

"Oh yes, I blew up the nation!" (said with glee) - I make a point of the tone in this specific line, because I could make a point of the tone in the whole song, but this line is a good example. He didn't blow up L'manburg just with glee like "hell yeah! I did it!". Of course he talks about it with pride sometimes, but it's usually either said in the middle of the same impulsive moments in which he'd claim he doesn't care, said with relief of him having control over at least that situation (like him sighing right after doing it just to ask Phil to finish it off by killing him), or said with the same deflection with which he'd claim that not having a grave didn't affect him and was badass actually since he only wanted it for the hateful obituaries anyway (which was a lie, and he admitted it on the third of august stream when saying "I was so pressed about not having a grave" in case you had doubts)

Finally, I want to make emphasis on the fact that: The explosion on the 16th had two main drives behind it and they often get glossed over. The first objectivee was blowing it up and causing just enough destruction to get L'manburg back (You know, when Wilbur still had some kind of hope). After his spiral went further and his paranoia and self-loathing worsened, his two drives become apparent: First was blowing it up to rid the world of the twisted thing L'manburg became, ridding the world of what the twisted version of his ideals became with Schlatt in control of them. Secondly, he wanted to end L'manburg as a part of himself and rid the world of himself completely (by this I'm referencing his suicide), he decided he wanted to die and expected that as a result since a lot of time before the 16th. The explosion was effectively a bigger projection of his suicide, rid the world of both himself and his creation, mixed with his constant desire to protect, it also becomes "rid the world of the corrupted version of L'manburg that became Manburg", because for all intents and purposes, since the important thing about L'manburg was its founding ideals, L'manburg had been dead for a long time at that point.

“Yesterday I had the perfect opportunity to blow everything up and finally end it, you know. I had the perfect opportunity to finally blow up everything and end it and just completely save everyone, right, from the tyranny of Schlatt and the tyranny of the existence of Manberg and L’Manberg, right.” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 25:17, 17th Oct)

“Explain it to me! Give me a reason! Give me a reason!” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 26:50, 17th Oct)

“Who else is it gonna hurt?! It’s gonna hurt Schlatt, Manberg, and-” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 26:55, 17th Oct)

“Why did I bring- I should have just done it. I’m such a fucking showman. I should have just done it.” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 27:18, 17th Oct)

“No you two can escape, I’ll be the… I’ll- I’ll- I’ll be… I’ll be trapped in here…” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 27:27, 17th Oct)

“I just- I just want to f… I just wanna end it, I wanna end it. I wanna press that button, man.” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 28:08, 17th Oct)

(Check out the parts under "Wilbur cares. A LOT", "Paranoia and distrustfulness are integral parts of his character", "Self-loathing and self-sabotage are also integral parts of his character", "He hesitated regarding the button tons of times", "He really cared and cares about L'Manburg, and didn't want its ideals twisted to hur others with", and "He really regrets what happened in Pogtopia" in this post)

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

The most baffling part of WKM is that everyone trusts and adores Damien, despite him being the only one in politics and actively in office. Mark made the mayor character the most trusted and loved. How????

(uh oh, you unlocked my 'Love Damien' mode)

You came to the right person! This is a great question and I will gladly go on a rant to try and help shed a little light on this!

In short, it's exactly because of how you phrased your question. There's a politician. He's seen as nice and trusted and loved. It seems like something that shouldn't be, and you assume the worst of him because it has to be an act for whatever reason; and that is because of the general view of politicians at the moment. I'm not touching IRL topics with a ten foot pole, but I will say that at present, there is a sorta wariness/a 'they don't care about us' vibe toward politicians in certain countries (including my own). That's something that then seeps into media.

Think about it. If there's a politician in a show of any sort (especially one holding office), they're usually up to no good behind the scenes or are unreliable - just like how a librarian might be cranky, for instance - in a sort of caricature. Off the top of my head I can remember seeing... A mayor that wanted to evict an entire community to build a business something-or-other to make lots of money, a mayor who branded a local team of agents as non-trustworthy when they went against his pretty crummy views (which could be the same show tbh), an absolutely useless buffoon of a mayor who needed the help of children to constantly save his city from supervillains, and a politician (maybe a mayor?) who constantly clashed with the chief of police in a city. This isn't even considering the times a politician character (whether or not they hold office) is involved with criminals, bribery, is being blackmailed, or even has a criminal record of some sort.

Damien is an exception to this trope. It may or may not be completely intentional, but it's genius on Mark's part. You walk in, see this well-dressed man with a rather cheesy Mayor badge pinned on... And people would immediately get suspicious... Something which Mark called people out on at a panel! Don't forget, every character was framed in a way to give reason for them maybe being the killer. I watched WKM (and got vaguely into the fandom) a week after it finished, so I missed the speculation in between each episode. From what I've seen, it appeared that a lot of people were wary of Damien, though I'm not too sure if it's because they were like "IT'S JUST DARK IN DISGUISE DON'T BE FOOLED" or if it was because of his job and mannerisms. Either way, it turns out his worries were genuine, and he was innocent of any crime that night, which completely subverts the expectation of a politician in a show. He's a rare breed - someone that has good intentions and a good heart, who wasn't 'tainted' by politics in some way.... But ends up getting corrupted anyway through matters far beyond his control.

Not only that, there's two important points that I think people forget and I'll go into better detail of under the read-more because this is getting pretty long.

-

1. The character that is the viewer has known Damien since university. That means they've been friends minimum... Let's say five years, but probably closer to ten. You're going to be more at ease and more 'yourself' around people you are very fond of, and Damien's face lit up the moment he noticed the viewer arrived. Since the viewer would be going into this cold the first time it's viewed, they wouldn't feel that bond and might think Damien's friendliness is an act. 2. While he is the Mayor, he's not The Mayor at that moment. He's merely a Mayor by title alone. For the events of Who Killed Markiplier?, he's just Damien. It would be different if we had walked into his office, but we arrived at a party with people Damien was comfortable with. He had no need to impress anyone because they were friends. Remember, the reason the badge exists is to tell the viewer what Damien does. Otherwise he could be any sort of businessman or guy in a fancy suit, and the explain everything video states that everyone thought Mark got the suit for a wedding when he shared a photo.

(Both points are showcased nicely in the very first scene we meet Damien if you compare the way he talks to the Detective - someone he barely knew - to the viewer - who has been a friend since university. When talking to Abe, Damien stands poker straight (almost rigid) and rests his hands on his cane. One hand moves to emphasise something, but the rest of his body remains still. There's a polite, yet formal, air to him. Here, he is The Mayor. I'd bet they were having casual conversation on how they met Mark or some other generic topic to break the ice. Then the pair notice you and that conversation is instantly DROPPED. Damien immediately lifts his cane as his entire body turns to the viewer. That smile isn't one that's given out of politeness. He's now Damien. There's no need to put on an act when it's a familiar friend. He still stands straight, but his body language and facial expressions are far looser and more casual. Gestures are with both hands now. His expressions are more playful, including widening his eyes to emphasise his tease about the viewer's skill of poker. This continues until he walks off-screen where, I presume, he was going to say hello to William.)

We don't know the extent of how much anyone trusts anyone else, but one of the big exceptions is the Colonel. I know I've written a headcanon on a roleplay blog about this, but he didn't know you, so he was polite, but distant and aloof. He had no reason to even care about you. We saw a good example of William acting like this the morning after. HOWEVER, after spotting the viewer talking to Damien outside at the end of the first episode, he notices a connection. The moment he knows you are Damien's friend he opens up with no hesitation in the second episode and is rather friendly toward you from then on. He trusts you because he trusts Damien, which to me suggests that our Mayor keeps good company and has a good judge of character. Plus, no one really has a reason to think ill of Damien. He and William have an argument focused on William's reaction to Mark's death (and don't forget that Damien wanted to apologise but William kept running away), while Celine shuts him down for Damien trying to get her to reconsider her idea; but neither are motives for them to be suspicious of Damien. Chef and George are indifferent, while the Butler is probably indifferent but feels comfortable enough to make a drug joke with Damien in earshot (and Tyler's IC stream as Butler had it that he thought well of Damien, but this might not be considered canon). On the other hand, you could say that the Detective is wary of Damien, but he was suspicious of everyone between all the work he did and the warning he got from Mark, so it's not completely reliable.

Speaking of, I haven't forgotten about the Detective's study and how there's a record sheet for Damien with something scribbled out. Unfortunately, I don't think it's something we'll ever get clarification on. I double-checked the explanation stream and there wasn't any mention of what was on it... But I feel like I heard Mark say something like 'forget about what is there, focus on why it's there', or how it got there in the first place? Maybe it was for another project, but the idea is more that the Detective's work was built up over time, and not in the span of that weekend; rather than focusing on every little piece of writing that can be seen. Perhaps there is something shady in Damien's life... But since it wasn't relevant to the 'story' we were being shown, it was omitted. This could very well be where people take the idea of a corrupt politician and run with it (and I have seen some excellent roleplayers over the years work with that!), or they could be like me and say that the crimes were things he was framed for. Or maybe, as I'm writing this, it could be like how Abe had documents for things that didn't happen in WMLW, and that the crimes he scribbled out were ones that Dark would do later... But that's going into theorist territory and that's not at all relevant to what I'm talking about.

Anyway, I've rambled on waaay too much as it is. He's trusted and loved as a character because he's so human. Mark pointed out in the explanation stream that Damien was the only one to question what was going on. He was upset, mourning, and had no idea what to do. It's a vulnerability that you don't see from people often, especially if they are supposed to be leaders.

If there's anything people wanna add or point out, jump in and do so! :D

[fatalism-and-villainy]

So I get the sense that it’s a notion in certain parts of fandom that Wei Wuxian going off travelling at the end of the show constitutes an unhappy ending for our main characters, or indicates a failure of communication with each other in their desire to be in a relationship, and that Wei Wuxian needs to just get his shit together and realize he should go back to Lan Wangji. But my impression, even from the first time I watched the show, is that WWX’s need to explore for awhile has very little, if anything, to do with LWJ.

I mean, imagine being in WWX’s position. He died - committed suicide - at the absolute lowest point in his life, having renounced his adoptive family, had his chosen community of people slaughtered, and lost everything he had to live for. He was an extremely unhappy person! And then, he got yanked back into the living world, with no memory or awareness of where he was all those years he spent being dead - already deeply disconcerting - and immediately plunged into an investigation that he doesn’t really have a choice but to devote his entire being to. (CQL’s timeline is a bit murky, but my impression is that the post-resurrection plotline takes at least a few months to resolve.) Like... of course he needs time and space to process everything that’s happened to him! Of course he needs an opportunity to just live and experience the world - a world that he needs to become reacquainted with, after being gone for over a decade.

Especially because WWX is someone who copes with his own issues by throwing himself at other problems that need solving and people who need helping, hence why it’s been pointed out by others that running into Wen Qing during his self-destructive, PTSD-ridden binge drinking period post-Sunshot was what pulled him out of his stupor and gave him a purpose again. So I imagine that having a mystery to occupy himself with immediately upon returning to life was a very efficient distraction from his issues! But afterwards, when everything is cleared up, he’s suddenly left unmoored and vulnerable and without a strong sense of who he even is and how he fits into the world now. And yes, he has LWJ to go back to... but he can’t build his entire sense of identity around LWJ, and that relationship can’t be his only source of happiness and fulfillment. And he genuinely seems to like exploring and having new experiences and meeting new people! It’s a good way for him to get a sense of who he is now.

It’s true that WWX has a lot of insecurity and neurosis re: feeling deserving of care and affection, and I’m not claiming that he’s completely resolved those issues (or any of his issues). But I think there’s a lot more trust between him and LWJ, and that he’s considerably more secure in that relationship, by the end of the show. Post-resurrection there are a lot of scenes where he’s a lot more mature in his interactions with LWJ, a lot more capable of grasping LWJ’s boundaries, and a lot better at tempering his teasing with sincerity. So I don’t take his self-discovery journey as the same sort of destructive impulse towards isolation that he displays after his stint in the Burial Mounds. I think it’s a demonstration, rather, of the trust he’s built in LWJ, and in the fact that he doesn’t need to constantly be demanding attention for LWJ to still wait for him and be there for him when he’s ready to come back. And it’s being able to clearly communicate his needs and intentions in a given moment, rather than just shutting the other person out. 

And from LWJ’s perspective - it’s so important that he’s able to let WWX go! LWJ is also incredibly neurotic and also feels that he’s not deserving of love. And he grows up without any models of what healthy relationships look like - his parents’ relationship is the only framework he has, as evidenced by him taking inspiration from that in wanting to hide WWX at Cloud Recesses. But he quickly realizes that that’s not what he wants, and that he doesn’t want to force WWX to do anything. When WWX comes back to life, he takes care of him and gives him gifts not because he’s expecting anything in return, but because he loves him and wants to make him happy and show him kindness when so few people have. But it’s important, I think, for him to be able to spend time apart from WWX, to give him the space he needs, without seeing that as just another sacrifice that he’s making. When he sees WWX off on his self-discovery journey, he’s in a place where he can start to trust that WWX will come back, and that he has massive significance for WWX even when WWX doesn’t have to depend on him for emotional and material support.   

Being able to maintain distance from each other, and maintain their own separate identities and relationship, with each one still having confidence in the strong foundation they’ve built together, is very important to me, and it’s why I’m so defensive of this ending. 

[5uptic]

crewfu: fanfic spotlight :)

Angel of Life, Bringer of Death by woofles1990 (5up/Steve, teen rating, gen | 377 words, chaptered WIP)

Summary: Steve and Dk just wanted to explore a dungeon. That's all they wanted! A certain angel clearly had other plans.

flashover by Anonymous (Apollo & 5up, teen rating, gen | 853 words)

Summary: n. the moment a conversation becomes real and alive, which occurs when a spark of trust shorts out the delicate circuits you keep insulated under layers of irony, momentarily grounding the static emotional charge you've built up through decades of friction with the world. OR: it's pretty stupid to sleep on the tiles of a subway station, even though you are well aware you have a home. It's also quite embarrassing to have a friend pick you up from there.

Sparks Fly by Rocketro (5up/Fundy, gen rating, m/m | 863 words)

Summary: 5up and Fundy watch fireworks together.

you're holding back (shut up and dance with me) by lytriis (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 1.2k words)

Summary: 5up and steve dance.

what happens in Vegas by aphilologicalbatman (Apollo/Steve, explicit rating, m/m | 1.4k words)

Summary: "I'm pretty sure this is a bad idea, Steve." "Nah, this is a great idea, dude." (Or: the one where they hook up in Vegas.)

quiet when i'm coming home by homeward_bound (5up/Hafu/David, teen rating, gen & multi | 1.4k words)

Summary: 5up comes home from LA.

i could peel it for you by sweetlikesugr (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2k words)

Summary: One appletini at a time, 5up ponders about oranges, buttons and celestial bodies.

from blossoms by 5280ft (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2k words)

Summary: “O, to take what we love inside, to carry within us an orchard, to eat not only the skin, but the shade, not only the sugar, but the days, to hold the fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite into the round jubilance of peach. There are days we live as if death were nowhere in the background; from joy to joy to joy, from wing to wing, from blossom to blossom to impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom.” -Li-Young Lee, From Blossoms

you think that i'm foolish now by amsves (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2.1k words)

Summary: “Is everything okay?” That’s a stupid question and Steve knows it. If everything was okay, Five wouldn’t be randomly appearing at his hotel room at—Steve checks his phone—2:37 in the morning. Their group had split up for the night a few hours ago, uncharacteristically early for them, but Five had had plans to talk to—

Like you wouldn't notice by Anonymous (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2.1k words)

Summary: Apollo is having feelings, so he pushes them down and hopes Steve doesn't notice. Avoiding Steve was never going to end well. "From that moment on, Apollo becomes hyper-aware of all things Steve. The way his long leg touches his, hip-to-knee, in the bar booth when they're drinking overpriced cocktails."

Vegas Lights by amethystvxidwalker (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2.3k words)

Summary: “You were planning on actually swimming with me, right?” Steve faced him, brown eyes and dopey grin almost making Five swoon. He forced himself to focus on Steve’s face rather than the black ink above his hip, small, blocky text that read ‘SUGR?’ because of course it did.

ice-cream-covered screaming hyperactive thought by cj__writes (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 2.5k words)

Summary: Apollo isn’t sure when, exactly, he fell in love with Steve. Maybe, just maybe, he thinks, he never really fell. Maybe, he’s been falling. He’s still falling.

u spilled orange on u by SmearedWords (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 3.1k words)

Summary: Five times Dumbdog thinks Steve is illegally attractive and the one time he tries to admit that to him. Keyword: tries.

My love is the evening breeze touching your skin by tumtummeke (Apollo & Steve, general rating, gen | 5.2k words)

Summary: Steve's love language is physical touch. Dumbdog's is... not that. A day at the beach with Steve and Dumbdog (and background crewfu), told in five touches.

be like the love that discovered sin by Qupid (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 5.6k words)

Summary: It’s annoying because Apollo even left for work a whole hour early today, which should be enough time to get to his shitty office job like everyone else on the train, but unlike everyone else, Apollo also has a second job. Which leads to the last reason why Apollo is having a bad day: being pinned under an overturned car while a villain monologues at him. Well, that last reason isn’t really part of Apollo’s bad day, but sue him if he wants to include the misfortunes of his hero identity Dumbdog while listing the reasons for his bad mood. “I don’t have time for this, Suptic,” Apollo grits out, interrupting the villain’s monologue.

friends in this town by 5280ft (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 6.1k words)

Summary: Five only realizes he’s bitten his nails down to the quick when the sting of pain catches up to him. He’s probably overthinking. He just needs to talk to Hafu. That’s all. ...He doesn’t want to. He’s worried he will only hear an answer he’ll hate. Out back, putting off talking to his sister really gives Five a sense of deja vu. All he needs to complete the feeling is Steve. “You need to relax, man.” Speak of the devil.

this party's just another haunted house by cj__writes (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 7.7k words, chaptered WIP)

Summary: On December 31st, Apollo wakes up in his hotel in Vegas. The problem is, it's always December 31st.

call me by your name (i don't know that's pretty gay) by Qupid (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 10k words)

Summary: “Oh!” The human suddenly exclaimed, “You probably want my name!” Five had no interest in holding the power of a name over a human, it always seemed more trouble than it was worth, “Not particu-” “I’m Steve! It’s a pleasure to meet someone as cute as you.” The human, Steve, interrupted before 5up could finish. 5up’s eyes widened as he felt the power of gaining a name rush through him.  It was intoxicating and he could see why some fae would frequently come to the human realm just to trick humans into giving up their names. Five hadn’t needed to trick Steve, the man had given up his name freely and Five couldn’t believe how goddamn stupid he was to do it. “Ohhhh my god you’re an idiot.”

you'll hear me howling outside your door by Qupid (Apollo/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 22.2k words)

Summary: Something warm blew against Steve’s face and, distantly, he heard a high pitched whine. A nudge, and when Steve ignored it, a more insistent push had him opening his eyes to the face of a wolf mere inches from his own. Steve laughed. How delightful!  He was hallucinating animals now. The wolf’s fur looked bright to him, but even with as dark as it was Steve could tell it wasn’t white. Maybe it was more of a sandy color. Not that it mattered when all Steve could focus on was its piercing gaze and how its eyes seemed to bore into his soul. The wolf whined again and nudged Steve in the shoulder with its nose, making the man rear back when he realized that this might actually be a real wolf and not a hallucination at all.

kinda good for my love by sweetlikesugr (5up/Steve, teen rating, m/m | 44.7k words, chaptered)

Summary: 5up can’t really recall the exact moment when dares became his and Steve’s thing and he is not sure if he even wants to try - after all, why would you mess with something that feels so natural, that feels so right? Why not just let it take its course and see where it might lead them?

Also: mangoedges‘s 5up the human impostor collection!

FAQ:

Wait what is this: pretty straight to the point! i’ll regularly share crewfu-related fanfictions to this blog :)

How regularly is “regularly”?: great question! LOL. it depends on the flow of fanfics that get uploaded, which i do not have any control over, but i’m looking forward to do this twice a month. after all, it’s only me doing this and i often run on a tight schedule.

What’s the format like?:

[title of fic with link] by [author of the fic with link] ([main pairing(s)], [fic rating: eg, general rating], [relationship: eg, m/m] | [word count in k], [added prompt to specify if it’s complete or not])

Summary: [summary provided by the author. if it doesn’t have a summary, a “No summary” prompt will be put instead]

(What does WIP mean again?): Work In Progress :)

Why are you doing this?: from the beginning, my blog has hosted conversations about RPF (real people fiction) and crewfu pairings. this has evolved into people sending me updates about certain fics in the crewfu tags every now and then, but i wanna take the next step and just do these things myself. after all, i’m already lurking in the tags often to see the fics that get posted. as someone who is both a writer and a reader, i wanna appreciate fanfic writers and help out other people that want to read fanfic and consume more fandom content!

Will it be AO3 only?: well, ao3 has a very helpful tag system that makes finding fics incredibly easy, as well as allowing people with no accounts to like and comment on fics, so that’s the site i will personally look in for fanworks. but if there are any fics you’ve written or liked in any other platforms, such as wattpad, you can always contact me through my inbox (send an ask or a dm!), and i’ll make sure to include for the next fanfic spotlight :)

Does it mean you won’t reply to fic asks anymore?: yeah, i guess. since i’ll be doing the searching myself it seems counterproductive. but if i ever skip a fic or again, it’s in another platform, or you’ve posted/read the fic a while ago and you want to get more traction on it, hit me up and i’ll take it into consideration!

Will you read every single one of the fics on your list?: oh no. again, i run on a tight schedule, and also i have my own taste when it comes to fics. i won’t be reviewing fics or any of the sort, and my intention extends to simply sharing these fics to this page so people will have easier access to them :) that’s where ao3 tagging becomes SUPER useful!!!

So what’s the criteria for the way you’ll sort out the fics in your list?: word count, going from lowest to highest. in case of fics in other platforms, i guess i’ll put them at the top of the list. i’ll also be looking for fairly recent fics, so let me know if you want any old-ish fic to be included.

I see you talking mostly about 5up/Steve and Steve/Apollo. Can I still send/see other crewfu fics?: why yes absolutely! my goal is to push every fic which heavily features regular crewfu characters - 5uptic and supdog just happen to be very popular pairings. so, to give you a list: core 4 (5up, hafu, dk, steve), apollo, aipha, annie, janet, kimi, ellum, koji… you know the drill. it doesn’t have to be centered on a relationship, or about 5up in specific, etc. my only requirement is that any of the previously mentioned members are a central part of the fic or are HEAVILY featured in it (sorry, minecraft fics with 50+ tags who only mention 5up as an afterthought won’t make the cut :/).

Isn’t shipping Bad™?: well, it’s a little more nuanced than that. i will go out of my way to discourage and shame people who often violate CCs’ boundaries by acting like so and so has a crush on this person, or that this and that are Actually Into Each Other or secretly dating. any sort of tinhat bullshit is a big nono (think larries). but i run on the assumption that people who write rpf understand that what they’re doing is simply write a completely fictional story using real life personalities, and understand the boundaries necessary to do it - aka they’re not tinhats, they understand they can’t assume everything about CCs’ thoughts and personalities, they understand that what they’re writing is strictly fiction, they keep these works only in fandom circles, etc. (but again, it’s only one me doing this, so please be kind if i don’t happen to know that this person is Actually a tinhat or whatever).

show fic: NO. (seriously. i don’t feel comfortable putting my ao3 account out there. please respect my privacy on these trying times <3)

I REALLY don’t care about your rpf/fic talk: fair! i’ll be tagging every single one of these posts as “fanfic spotlight”, so just mute the tag using tumblr settings so you’ll never have to look at these! likewise, you can follow the tag if you want to keep up with it, or search it on my blog to look at the other entries you might have missed.

Hey, my fic is here and I don’t feel comfortable with it being shared over here: no problem! let me know as soon as you can and i’ll take it down <3

[alia-turin]

It has been a very very long week and I was writing and writing this chapter and it did not seem to end. Honestly I would have made that the final chapter but then it just became endless so I will probably write jus another one sort of as an epilogue. 

I hope you enjoy y’all. 

PLEASE NOTE: This  chapter is 80% NSFW and there is a warming for blindfolding, some lighe dom/sub undertones and ice play.  Fic Title: Somewhere in Time:  Chapter 8 Previous Chapters:  1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 Rating: Explicit Fandom: The Witcher Relationship: Caranthir Ar-Feiniel/Original Female Character(s)

Aine pulled the furs to her chin. She wasn’t cold, the fire was burning as hot as possible and the bedroom was small, but she couldn’t sleep. She pressed a finger against her lips, still feeling his touch there. The way her heart was beating when she felt him close to her, when he pressed himself against her...that was what kept her awake. That and how much she misunderstood him prior to the events this morning. She had no idea if she had done something or he did it on purpose, showing her things in his mind that shocked her. If it was her, it was not on purpose and probably she even owed him an apology even if she had no idea what to apologize for, if it was him...why?

She thought about what she saw for the rest of the day and now half of the night her mind was still going through the images. Aine didn’t fully understand all of them, those were his memories, that much she knew, but it all looked like paintings and she had to figure out what exactly the painting meant. She saw the terror, the pain he had inflicted. But there was more. She saw the confused boy, the young man who had lost someone he loved and that loss turning into anger. He was violence, but he never hurt her despite her worst fears.

She rolled to her side.

What if she had allowed him to do what he wanted today...she wanted him, why wouldn’t she? He was handsome, he saved her life, even if it was under the strangest circumstances and now she could even understand him. All she had to do today was just to allow him what he started. She didn’t want to be hurt. Not again. She wanted  him, but not for one night, that was pointless.

She rolled to her other side.

Two different men. The same way he said that the red haired woman from his memories was different from her, so was…

Accidentally or on purpose she knew some of his most intimate moments, there was no denying that and despite everything she understood. They were very different from each other, but somehow the same. Having a family, but not really. Not having the worst possible life, but never the life they actually wanted...

She got out of the bed, didn’t even bother to get dressed, just wrapped the furs around herself.

Caranthir was reading a book, or more like looking at a book. He had been starting every sentence multiple times because the words just did not reach his brain. All he could think was how stupid he was today. Aine was too inexperienced and that was too powerful magic for her. He didn’t have an explanation of what exactly went wrong, beside the fact he should have known. No, that wasn’t what bothered him, her stopping him. He was glad she did, he wasn’t sure he could treat her gently, the way he wanted to treat her. Was he even capable of that? Did he even know what it meant to be with someone not just mindlessly chasing his pleasure and some physical relief.    

“Can we talk?” he lifted his head, Aine standing by the stairs, her body wrapped with a blanket. She stepped closer to him, stopping on the opposite side of his desk. “I...know why you act the way you act. I’m not sure I understand it, but I saw your memories.”

“You were not supposed to see that.” he interrupted her. He didn’t want to talk with her about how he killed and worse. He knew very well none of his memories were pleasant, they were not pleasant to him, they couldn’t possibly be pleasant to someone else.

“I wasn’t, but I did.” She pulled the blanket closer to her as if she was cold. “I...pushed you because I told you that you cannot be nice to me and then shut down. I was scared.” he didn’t say anything, only watched and listened, who wouldn’t be scared honestly? And he understood very well what she meant about him being warm one moment and then cold the next. If he had social skills he would be one or the other. “I like you.”

He tilted his head. It wasn’t the first time someone said that to him, but in his opinion women liked the idea of him more than they liked him. He was a navigator, a red rider, all of these attractive in everyone’s mind. He knew she didn’t care about any of that. He knew she saw him for exactly who he was, physically and otherwise and that was relief and a big problem at the same time.

“I saw your life. I owe you something in return, probably an explanation.” he didn’t answer, still not sure what to say. He did not feel as if she owed him something, but he was not going to stop her. If anything he owed her an explanation, maybe an apology for being rash and irresponsible, pushing her to do something because he found it fun without thinking of the consequences “There was an elf. Years ago, when I still lived in my father's house. He was nice to me.” she stopped, he wanted and didn’t want to know what nice meant in that sentence. “He thought that by being close to me, he would win favour, but he did not understand that my father saw me as a bit more than a servant. He figured it out.”

“I have little use of you.” he finally said immediately realizing how bad that sounded. “What I meant is that I have no interest in using you.”

“I know. I...saw as much.” there it was. She said it. Took that off her shoulders. “This is why I pushed you away today. Not because of what I saw but because I started feeling for you and you being the way you were well...I don’t want to be one night entertainment.” she looked at him, she couldn’t live all her life in fear of what happened before and the same was true for him.

She let the blanket drop around her feet, leaving her naked in front of him.

Caranthir felt his jaw drop. That he did not expect. He watched her naked shape, the candles and the fire from the room dancing over her skin and hair. That was what he wanted, wasn’t it? For weeks now, but why couldn’t he move or say something?

“This is embarrassing, I thought…'' She started talking, her arms trying now to cover her nakedness and also reaching down for the furs, but Caranthir moved faster, getting himself in front of her and grabbing her arms before she could do it.

“You don’t need to do that for my benefit.” he moved her arms out of the way, his eyes tracing the shape of her collarbones, her breasts, her hips. If she were to stop him now, at the very least he wanted to memorize that view.

“I want you.” she answered as she stepped on her tip toes and kissed him. He responded, opening his mouth but taking over the kiss, trying to steal the breath from her but he suddenly pulled out.

“What…” she looked at him puzzled.

“Nothing…” he stepped back his eyes on her body again. He didn’t want to cause himself to her. She was too...pure for him. “You need to know something. I’m not gentle, I’m not sure I know how to be...nice.”

“I saw that.” she responded, her eyes not leaving his. He didn’t think she saw any of it, but maybe he had been too focused on stopping her that she had seen more than he expected. “I have seen…” he placed his finger on her lips.

“And you are not like them to me, but I don’t think I know any other way.” he pressed himself against the desk and pulled her closer, her belly rubbing against his growing erection. He wrapped his arms around her, letting his hands rest on her lower back. “Do you trust me?” he pulled her even closer to himself, frustrated at all the clothes he was wearing. She hesitated for a second but nodded. That was all he needed.

Aine felt his hand slide down to her ass, but he didn’t stop, he leaned forward and grabbed her hips, lifting her up and turning both of them around, letting her sit on the desk. She wanted to kiss him, she needed the closeness. He took a small step back, and then pulled his shirt off, almost as if he was getting changed, there was nothing seductive in his action, just a task he had to do. Aine couldn’t help herself but stare at his body, she knew he was well built, she could see that much even under the clothes, but now seeing the hardness of his chest, the defined lines around his abs...and the tattoos. She had seen the tattoos that started at his neck and those on his fingers and hands, but didn’t think they covered his whole torso, arms and parts of his legs. There were also the scars, less visible on his skin due to the tattoos but they were still there, the same scars as the ones on his face.

She couldn’t control herself and reached for his chest, her finger tracing a few black lines of the unknown pattern on his skin.

“What does it mean?” she asked as her finger continued.

“This one is a spell.” he grabbed her hand and guided her through his skin. “This stops other mages from putting tracking spells on me, like the one I put on you.” he moved her finger just below his chest. “This one protects from certain curses.” he continued pushing her finger down over his abs until he stopped where his belt was.  She tried to reach for his belt but he held her hand away.

“Patience.” He didn't say that to her, mostly to himself. He had never taken so much time, if it were someone else he would be half way through now. But he wanted to feel her, every single part of her and wanted her to feel him. He wasn’t worried about her seeing him, she already did and he liked what he saw in her eyes. He might be making that up of course but she accepted him, she didn’t stare at his scars as if he was a freak, when her fingers touched them she didn’t even pull away...she just accepted him and that was a bigger turn on for him than almost anything else.

He pushed her on the desk and turned her so her length was on the length of the desk. He didn’t follow her, just walked around and reached for the drawer on the opposite side.

“What are you…” Aine lifted herself looking at him puzzled.

“Trust me.” he pulled the black fabric from the drawer and walked all the way behind her. “Just relaxed.”

He placed the fabric over her eyes and tired it at the back. He had blindfolded women before, it was his way to deal with them not seeing him, not looking at him. This was different. It wasn’t about her seeing him, they were past that, he just liked seeing her trust him, allowing him…

Aine hoped that was not a mistake and she wouldn’t wake up tomorrow regretting everything, or even worse, alone in the bed with him just gone somewhere, forgetting about her. She couldn’t see anything, but her hearing felt somewhat sharper, probably just an illusion from the senula deprivation. She could hear the wood in the fire burning, even the wind howling outside, but nothing from Caranthir until she felt his hands around her ankles, pulling her so her ass was almost at the edge of the desk and her feet hanging  low. Then she felt his hands on her inner thigh spreading her open, redness creeping through her skin realizing he was standing right in front of her with her legs wide spread. What felt even more embarrassing was that she had no idea where his eyes were, for all she knew he could be staring at the bookshelves behind her.

“Caranthir?'' All she needed was a sound from him, just to know exactly where he was, but no response followed. However, she did feel his lips kissing just below her bellybutton, her stomach curling in a ball by the surprised sensation. Second kiss didn’t follow, but that was enough to make the heat between her legs almost intolerable. She tried to push her legs together but he placed his hands on her knees and stopped her. Not a word followed, she couldn’t decide what was more tortuous, not knowing where his eyes were looking, or the absolute silence from him.

Next thing she felt was his hands cupping her breasts, unlike the kiss that was not soft and gentle, that felt more like what she expected from him, rough, but still pleasant. He moved one hand away, just to replace it with his mouth on her nipple, his tongue licking it as her body arched looking for some sort of friction in the empty air. She moaned, enjoying the sensation, but also needing more, the cool air she can feel between her legs just reminding her about the emptiness there.

He moved his other hand away, his mouth replacing it as well, his tongue flicking at teasing, but not giving her any release just building even more need, until he moved away again, Aine moaning this time in frustration, as even his teasing was better than nothing at all. She felt something familiar, a tingling on her skin - magic and that was not coming from here.

“Caranthir, what…” she couldn’t finish. He placed his finger on her lips, again not even a sound from him. He placed a soft kiss just below her jawbone, another one further down, so tender, and gentle, unlike the next one, where he kissed but then sank his teeth in the middle of her neck and the next one over her collarbones where he bit the sensitive skin again. Next thing she felt was something cold against her neck, just where he was kissing, it felt like ice or snow. She could feel the wet trail it left as he moved it down, to where his teeth had sunk a moment ago, leaving her skin cold and burning at the same time. Aine moaned and this time she could hear him smirk, she could almost imagine the satisfaction on his face.

Caranthir watched her body react to the ice in his hand. He placed the cold cube above her breasts, sliding it slowly to her cleavage and further down. He moved the ice away, casting more of the spell to compensate for what had been lost by the warmth of her skin, but used his tongue to lick the wet trail the ice had left. She moaned, her body arching toward him desperately looking for a contact and he was doing his best not to allow her any contact but what he was giving her now.

He pulled away just for a second but then moved back to her right nipple taking it in his mouth and sucking as he slid the ice down her cleavage again, but continued down slowly leaving the ice on top of her belly button to melt.

“Caranthir…” this time it wasn’t a question it was a moan and he could feel it straight between his legs. He wanted to hear that again and again, but when he was in her. He stopped for a second, no, he was determined to take his time, this was different.

He stepped back watching her chest rise and fall, breathing heavily from, the ice on her belly almost melted, cold water glistering over her skin. His gaze stopped between her legs, he could see the wetness, his tongue running over his own lips, not wanting to take any longer. This game was almost as tortuous to him as it probably was to her. He needed to feel her, the same way he had felt her skin against his when he was teaching her, but less innocent, more primal.  

Aine’s body was hot and cold at the same time, she could feel the freezing water running down her belly. Suddenly she felt his finger between her legs, the coldness of his skin surprised her and by insitic she tried to pull her legs together but he stopped her with his other hand. He didn’t push his finger in her, which was frustrating, just ran it around her entrance, his touch almost gentle, pleasant, but was not helping her in any way, on purpose stopping just before he could provide any sort of actual release.

That ended as well, more silence followed, seconds but the anticipation made it feels like minutes. She thought she could hear clothes, maybe leather, but the sound was so faint that she could not decide if at that point her mind was playing tricks on her, maybe it was her wanting to hear that and then feel him on top of her, the warmth of his skin pressed against hers. Again there were the goosebumps on her skin from magic, her brain just going in complete overload, what now? She felt Caranthir hands on her hips, slowly sliding up to her waist, smearing the now warm water under his touch, until his hands reached to her ribs and he slid his grip under her, pulling her into sitting position. Next thing she knew he dragged her even further to the edge of his desk, she was expecting to step on the ground any moment, but that never happened, there was nothing under her feet, just that tingling magic sensation, the feeling of falling and a low surprised scream escaped her mouth.

Suddenly she was sitting on something again, however it felt different. It wasn’t the hard, uncomfortable desk, her knees felt something soft, but what she was different, warm, she lost her balance and leaned forward, by instinct her hands reached forward to soften the fall but all she felt under her palms was hot skin and hard muscle.

Caranthir watched her confusion, as he was lying on the bed, she was sitting on top of him, her legs on either side of his. He removed the fabric from her eyes, unable to hold his own need to look at her. Aine measured the room in surprise, he could see confusion at first but it was quickly replaced with recognition, it was his bedroom, or hers as she had been sleeping there since he rescued her. He was lying on the soft furs covering the bed, the room was dark, but the moonlight reflection on the snow provided more than enough light for him to see her as clear as he did downstairs with all the candles and fires lit. He reached for her face, caressing the perfect skin in the exact same spot where his was damaged. His finger hooked a long strand of hair that was falling over her chest and moved it way, he needed to look at her, enjoy every inch of her.

Her small hands were on his abs, but one slowly moved down, reaching to his hardness and wrapping her thin fingers around him. He didn’t want to make a sound, but a low grunt escaped his throat as he felt her skin around his length. She moved her hand slowly, tortuous, but he did not care, at least not yet. Despite the pleasure her hand was providing, he just couldn’t get enough of her touch, her perfect shape on top of him, her eyes looking in his with the same lust he was feeling. He wanted to do hundreds of things right now and nothing at the same time. Wanted to be in her, on top of her, have her on her knees between his legs, taste her..the list went on and on. At the same time that was perfect as well. He had never experienced that before, all his sex encounters have been about satisfying a need, rather than...that whatever the right word for that was. It had been about chasing his own pleasure, some release and there was that. But now he just wanted to look at her, enjoy the way her eyes were pinned on him, accepting him. Her small hand was still stoking him slowly, but he could feel himself moving him closer to an edge.

Caranthir wrapped his hands under her ass and lifted her up, her knees still touching the soft furs under them. Her hand let go of him and reached back on his abs trying to find balance even if his arms were supporting her. He positioned her slowly on top of his length, his eyes not leaving hers as he let her slide down slowly. He was supporting her, controlling the pace she moved down on him. He could feel the heat between her legs, then the wetness and eventually her tightness around him. She moaned as his tip pushed in, biting her lower lip. He gave her a moment to get used to him, but then continued to help her slide down on him, inch by inch, as slowly as he could until he was all the way in and stopped. She tried to move up, but he dug his fingers in her thighs keeping her in place.

He needed a moment, he pulled himself into a half sitting position, his right hand on the bed to support him, but his left hand still on her hip. He leaned forward and kissed her as he moved his hand under her and urged her to move, slowly, it was tortuous for him, but he knew it was the same for her. They both needed more than that. She started moving on his length, her arms now using his shoulders for support, his hips moving to meet her. He watched her as she found the best angle, the moans from her mouth low but so intoxicating for his mind. He slid his hand away, moving it slowly across her leg until his thumb was positioned on her clit, gently drawing a circle but that was enough to distract her from the pace she had picked.

“Don’t stop or I will as well.” he whispered in her ear, realizing that was the first thing he had said all night.

She started moving again, her eyes pleading with him and he just smiled, his thumb resuming the lazy circles it was drawing.

“Good girl.” he whispered in her ear again and then bit it gently, moving his lips down her neck, placing soft kisses as his finger increased the pressure and speed. Her pace became more rigid and he moved his hand away, back to her hip, but with a smooth move he rolled her over, this time she was lying on the furs and he was on top of her.

Aine quickly wrapped her legs around him urging him to push in her but he didn’t move. Yet again her pleasure and everything associated was at his mercy. It was exciting, but what made the thrill stronger was that just a week ago she would never imagine herself doing that with him. Somehow seeing him for who he truly was did something for her, enough to know he wouldn’t hurt her, and enough to find attraction toward him. A week ago, she wouldn’t have thought about allowing him to cover her eyes, even if it was for a second and they were completely dressed. Right now it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. Caranthir placed his hand on her throat, his thumb and index finger holding her jaw and forcing her to look at him, not that she had any other intention. She wanted to look at his face, even though he had been good about keeping his emotions under control, there were signs of pleasure, his pupils almost completely hiding the blue of his eyes, his jaw clenching when he was suppressing a groan.

Despite his best effort Caranthir could not hold any longer, or go slow. He moved his hips slowly but then his whole body just refused to listen and he found himself in a harsh pace, Aine’s body arching below him in pleasure with every thrust he did. The grip around her throat increased in strength, he could feel against his palm as she swallowed, the bones raising against him, the way her skin vibrated as she moaned. Her eyes fixed on him, barely focused, but she was looking at him. He wanted to know what she was feeling, what she was thinking, seeing him on top of her. He could. Without giving it a second thought he pressed his forehead against her and cast the spell, something that should be forbidden, but he wasn’t thinking. He immediately felt what she was feeling, he could feel the pressure against his throat even nothing was holding him, but the amount of pleasure she was feeling, he was feeling it now too, combined with his own, pushing him so close to the edge that he could not control anything on his body anymore, his speed, the way he was holding her…

Aine smiled as she felt his forehead press against her and then almost screamed from what followed. Everything she was feeling until now, suddenly became more intensified and different. It felt so strange, she knew physically nothing changed, his moves became less controlled, harsher, but her mind was experiencing that on a completely different level. She dug her nails in his back and somehow sensed it on her own skin, even if there was nothing there. One of his hands was still on her throat, the other between her legs, how could she feel nails digging in her own back? Her orgasm came almost immediately, her body arching under him, feeling the warmth of skin, she had no idea if she screamed or made any other sound, her whole mind was trying to process something that she had never felt before.

Moments passed, neither of them moved his chest pressing against hers as both of them were trying to catch their breaths. She was physically tired, but her mind was also exhausted in a way she had not felt before, even with all the work she had been doing as he was teaching her how to use magic.

Eventually Caranthir rolled over, he seemed exhausted as well, his moves slow and forced as he pulled the furs under the two of them and used them as a blanket and then pulled her on his chest, his arms wrapped around her body.

Aine started tracing lazily the black lines over his skin entwined with scars. Her fingers touched gently the complex patterns and runes, gently brushing around the damaged skin.

Neither of them spoke, she had no idea what to say. Whatever happened tonight...first she had never imagined herself going to someone offering herself the way she did with him, but somehow it felt right, he felt close and...in a twisted way that made sense. She also never imagined herself being blindfolded to someone’s desk, that sounded terrifying and against all logic, he was the last person she should entrust with that, but here they were, she was more than fine and in one piece.

“What was that?” she finally asked.

“Mhm?” was the only response he gave, as he started playing with her hair. “You  need to be more specific.”

“After you touched my forehead.” she slid her fingers lower to his abs, more runes and markings covering the skin there.

“A spell.” he answered. A forbidden one or at least one that was frowned upon in certain circumstances. Accessing someone’s mind was dangerous and invasive, the way she did it with him, he allowed that. No one allowed him now. “It allowed me to feel what you were feeling and it allowed you to feel what I was feeling.” It usually was hard to cast it on someone who was unwilling or unaware, but she had completely given up to him. It felt so easy as both of them had completely given themselves to each other, but he had also been selfish. He needed the reassurance that she really wanted him, the way he wanted her.

Caranthir continued playing with her hair, his mind going through everything that happened tonight. Not just the physical part, that was great, but there was more. He had never been so intimate with another person. Never had the need to touch someone or be touched, even if it was just that, holding her, feeling her warmth next to him.  

“Are you okay?” she pushed herself up a bit, he had to fight the instinct to pin her back down. She wasn’t going anywhere, she just lifted her head and shoulders a bit to look at him, but even that loss of friction was frustrating. He felt like a child who had just discovered how good chocolate tasted. “Caranthir?”

“Yes.” he pushed her hair away from her shoulder gently, running his finger over the skin where he had left marks. He has not done that before. He had been rough in the past, but never felt the need to leave a mark, it usually happened by accident, spur of the moment situation, but that was different. “Does it hurt?” she shook her head, she probably didn’t even know how red her skin was.

“How did you do the thing with the ice?” she relaxed again on his chest.

He reached for her hand and took it in his, made her open her palm.

“Focus and think about ice.” he could see her concentrating, sensing magic slowly building and an ice ball no bigger than his thumb appeared in her hand. “There you go.”

She rolled the piece of ice in her hand and then placed it on his chest, Caranthir groaned, the little ball slid down his chest to the side of abs and fell on the bed.

“How long did it take you to get all these?” she asked after a moment of silence, her small finger tracing again the tattoos on his body.

“Months.” It felt strange talking about himself. He had asked her questions about her and he knew a lot, but she never asked him questions before and then...well he gave her the crash course of who he was. It was still foreign for him to talk about himself. “I did my first one when I wasn’t even an adult yet.”

“You did it?” she pushed herself up again, looking him in the eyes with surprise. “Even on your neck and back?”

“You can use magic to move objects. It is not that complicated to move a needle and some ink.” he traced her spine with his fingers. He should probably get some protective runes on her to make sure no harm would come, but he also loved looking at her undamaged skin, so much unlike his covered in scars. “My teacher taught me the principle and told me that one day he would help me get my first runes. I couldn’t wait, so I did it myself despite his instructions. He wasn’t happy, but I also did it right from the first time.”

Aine listened to him, it felt good. She already knew a lot, not because she asked, but now it felt better. Having him volunteer that information, for the first time talking with full sentences, not half words with hidden meaning.

“Your teacher...he was the one who raised you, right?” she was careful with her questions, she wanted to hear him talk, but she also didn’t want to push too far and make him close himself again.

“He did. He was like a father to me, not a good one, but he was the only family I had growing up. The only parent, the only friend…” a sad smile appeared on his lips. “I used to worship him, now I feel like he is my biggest enemy.”

Aine didn’t know what to say at that, she wasn’t one to speak about fatherly love and even if she did not consider her family as her enemy she did not want to be near them either, or at least what was left of them. A brother who rarely acknowledged her, a father who used her as a trinket when there was a need for it and ignored her the rest of the time.

“I want you to stay with…” Caranthir finally started what was on his mind but stopped suddenly feeling the energy in the room building. He looked at her but her eyes were as puzzled looking at him for an answer.  “Seriously?” Caranthir said more to himself, pushing himself up as he saw the portal opening. There was only one person who could open a portal and knew to find him in this place.

[wishingstarinajar]

I am going to ramble a bit but I will hide it under a cut because it's a bit long. It will be about the previous fandom I was active in around two years ago and how it affects me to this day. It's also about popularity and putting others on a pedestal.

If this sort of ramble isn't up your alley then feel very free to skip over this post! I don't mind. If you want to read more about it, just check under the cut.

The Franchise And Its Creators

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THE FRANCHISE AND ITS CREATORS Around mid-2014, I joined the Wakfu and Dofus fandoms, a small-ish fandom as a whole but popular in certain circles.

For those who don't know, Wakfu and Dofus are (online, console, mobile, figurine, card and board) games, comics, animated series, specials and movies created by a French studio named Ankama. These two franchises are intertwined with each other as they play out in the same universe but in different timelines. I myself dabbled around in the animated part of the fandom; I was a huge fan of the two series and the Dofus movie.

There was very little catering to the international part of the fandom when it came to the studio's attention and interactions. There were no English dubs or subtitles; international fans had to rely on English fan subtitles on ripped/pirated episodes of the show and movie, same for the franga/comics. Merch was hard to get. A lot of articles related to the shows and whatnot were in French only, which is understandable because it is a French-made product. But there's no denying that the international fanbase felt a little neglected back then.

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MY FANDOM JOURNEY

Because I was very interested in the lore of both franchises, I had to do a lot of digging and translating to be able to fully indulge in it all. I went full in! I dug deep, created OCs, art and also tried to write fanfiction. I also shared news and info about the series and movie; I ran a fan blog dedicated to sharing things with the international part of the fandom. I was also often approached about lore, particularly for a few of the canon characters and one of the races that play a role in the Wakfu franchise; the Eliatropes. It was fun, it felt good to help other fans out, it was nice to make friends and be creative with others about similar things.

Eventually, the character and art theft began. We all know this is a 'normal' part of fandoms, so I won't hammer too long on it. My issue with it was the fact that my main OC, a female Eliatrope, gathered a lot of attention because female Eliatropes were a rarity in the Wakfu franchise. They existed but didn't get a moment in the limelight, except for one that even received her own game (Islands of Wakfu) but it was so obscure that a lot of fans didn't know about its existence. My OC was somehow mistaken as canon by plenty of folks and many others started to use her as a template to create their own (female) Eliatrope OC. I didn't mind, as long as they weren't straight-up copies and I tried to be supportive by answering lore questions and give feedback whenever it was asked for it (which happened a lot). Of course, copying and theft happened more often than not; over the five years I was part of the fandom, I sent out almost a hundred DMCA reports for art and character theft (like true theft; I could handle some similarities or one-time occurrences). One particular case went to the extreme but I won't beat that dead horse any further; it brought me enough misery to last me half a lifetime, that's all I'll say on it. I kept a lot of the negative experiences behind closed doors and dealt with a lot of it quietly to not bother, worry or burden anyone else with any of it. I wanted a positive and supporting environment for my followers, even if the truth wasn't as pretty.

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ANKAMA'S STRUGGLE

Over the years, studio Ankama increased attempts to cater more to the international fanbase of its animated properties (articles in English, English dubs and subtitles, etc). However, the studio's struggle to garner the attention of international supporters (aka companies and sponsors) didn't go too smoothly, and to make matters worse, they were also struggling with finding a platform in France to broadcast the Wakfu series on after wishing to take a different and more mature direction. Ankama wanted more freedom with the Wakfu show, like less censorship, a serial rather than episodic, and it not being aimed at a young audience like its previous contractor demanded Wakfu to be. Ankama even turned to crowdfunding to get certain projects (like new Wakfu seasons) off the ground and let's just say that those crowdfunding projects are best described as tiny dumpster fires; they weren't pretty to watch. The first one was a disaster with plenty of displeased backers and the following crowdfunding attempts often didn't meet the end goal due to bad past experiences or the lack of interest.

Luckily, Netflix breathed some life into the international Wakfu fandom, which was great! But it was still received badly (mostly due to the awful English dub and sound mixing of the first two seasons and special) that the third season Netflix made possible was not getting the attention it deserved. It was also a rushed product due to financial and time constraints on Ankama's part. Netflix eventually declined a fourth season and it all fell a bit apart from there. Ankama turned to crowdfunding once more to try and make season 4 a reality. Last time I checked (which was quite a while ago), it did decently enough to make season 4 a reality. (Please don't ask me about it, I don't know anything about it.)

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THE PEDESTAL

While all this was happening behind the scenes, I was starting to struggle with the reputation I built up in the Wakfu and Dofus fandom over the few years I was a part of it. The best way to describe it is that I had grown exhausted.

Aside from dealing with the theft and answering people's questions daily, I wanted to be treated as an average fan but I kept getting put on a pedestal. People went as far as to call me by titles (like lady Wish and miss Wish) more often than not. To be called and treated as such made me feel alienated, like as if I wasn't considered real. I often asked to just be called Wish, no titles/formalities required, and that I wasn't as 'popular' as they believed, but the majority of the people didn't seem to listen. People were either afraid or refused to interact with me because they considered me 'too popular', or simply wanted nothing but my validation, feedback and/or free art. I also had my fair share of haters and people that didn't approve of my 'status' in the fandom. Join the club xD I wasn't very happy with it either.

I really started to dislike being called 'popular' because it had such a bad impact on the people around me (and my own mental wellbeing). Friends started to become jealous of the attention I garnered and it dragged me down every time. At times, it would turn toxic. It was never my intention to make my friends feel like they meant less because they surely didn't. To learn that they believed others were only friends with them or only looked at their art/writing because they were good friends with me hurt so much. It still does. I refuse to believe that was fully true because I was (and still am!) surrounded by very creative people and they all deserved as much attention as I was getting, at times more. I wish others saw it that way too.

I was also heavily chained down thanks to the role (model) I played in the fandom. Too many people (especially young ones) looked up to me and there were a lot of expectations that I felt forced to meet. I started to lose the energy for it, but if I dared to stray a little from the path, the pitchforks and torches would come out. It was very restricting.

In the end, I felt stuck. Things started to grow toxic. There was a point where I began to dislike the franchise because of the bad feelings it brought me. I couldn't even get myself to watch the series or movie anymore. I focused less and less on the canon side of things and more on my own ideas, which was one of the only comforts I really had left in the fandom. I started to shut myself off, which upset a lot of people. I am sorry for that, I wish it didn't happen that way but I was at my wits' end.

When I realized and also accepted that I was no longer enjoying myself with canon or fanon, I knew I had to move on or stuff would end badly. It was a very tough realization and decision to accept and make; I literally dedicated five years of my life to the fandom. I spent hours a day digging for info and news to translate and share, doing 'research' for my fanfics, answering questions, and whatnot. I truly lived the fandom day in and out. It was the first fandom I ever actively participated in to this degree. What the heck was I going to do without that?

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THE NOW

Abandoning the fandom was a scary step to take but not one I regret. I left the Wakfu and Dofus fandom behind me in late 2019. I feel freer now and so much happier. I no longer have the burden of expectations, being a lore guide or be forced to portray a certain role model weighing me down. I am no longer on that f*cking pedestal. I can finally explore interests that aren't exactly child-friendly without a big part of my following pummeling me down for it. (Don't worry, I always try my best to keep it in the appropriate places.)

Do I still like Wakfu/Dofus and all the stuff I've created with it? Yes, I do but I also want nothing more to do with it. Aside from the friends I've made there and also stuck around on my new adventures, I left the fandom behind me.

I still get approached at times about how my Wakfu OC, art and writing inspired someone and ask me if I could give them feedback for their own ideas or give them advice/information on Wakfu/lore. I am extremely humbled by it every time. It's great to see someone feeling inspired and be creative. However, I've moved on. I've left interacting with the Wakfu/Dofus fandom and fan-made stuff far behind me. I haven't touched it for almost two years and it shows on all the social media I share my art and writing on. I at times wish people could be considerate about the fact that I moved on but I also know and understand that not everyone knows my reasoning or my side of the story. I try not to be too harsh on it.

====

MY ADVICE

I don't hate anyone for how things turned out; a lot of it was my own doing by not saying no or taking a stronger stand.

It did teach me a lot of things, especially about caring for my own well-being and putting others on pedestals. Please be mindful when you treat someone like others treated me before; it's not healthy, for yourself and the person you put on that high pedestal. Take everything in moderation and consideration, that's all. Everyone's human, everyone has feelings, and everyone deserves a sense of being. Even your favorite artists and content creators. Don't treat them like an otherwordly being that you have to worship.

In turn, if a fandom or something you enjoyed is making you unhappy nowadays, you owe it to yourself to make or find a change. Be good to yourself, always!

~~

Thanks to anyone who read through this ramble. I needed to get this off my chest. I am not asking for advice, neither pity or whatever else. I just wanted to share my thoughts on past experiences because I have a feeling others might be going through something similar.

Thank you again, please take care.

[missorgana]

would everything be different today?

characters/pairings: thor and loki, loki/mobius

fandom: marvel cinematic universe

rating: general

word count: 3913

warning: canon character death

summary: Prior to Loki's arrest, Thor attempts to save them and is arrested by the TVA himself. And sure, he doesn't understand much of this institution, but he's pretty sure this Mobius has taken a liking to his younger sibling. (pre-canon, thor pov)

(still obsessing over loki, who’s surprised? no one! half of this fic was written at 2am when i was Not sober, my beloved Cat / @howgodforgives read it for me tho because they’re perfect!! 💖 this is an au... supposed to happen pre-canon... inspired by this post and this post, i love them too much and simply mashed the 2 concepts together so ya. enjoy ??)

read on ao3

Thor thought he could just do one thing. And when Steve revealed his plan about utilizing their time traveling device, just one last time, the offer his friend came with for him to go back was something he had to.

He had a chance to save Loki.

Now, he knows this is far from thought out, far from logical, and Thor never told Steve when he himself was traveling to. They trusted each other, Avengers and all.

Thor knows he could save their mother, too, if he wanted, but perhaps grief was clouding his vision because he’s simply lost too many, and he’ll be damned if he’d let Loki slip away from him after everything they’ve been through.

They were making progress… weren’t they?

It surely couldn’t be another one of his tricks, and although Thor has been naive in the past, he simply can’t lose her. Not now. Not yet.

And so he goes back for them, and he gets there, he’s on the ship, Heimdall and Loki and Valkyrie and Korg and  Thanos  , and Thor’s never been prone to irrational anger, he  tries , but everything happening all over again in such an overwhelming way nearly has sparks jumping from eyes and fingertips.

Thor is so close. And then he isn’t.

He can’t comprehend what happens, but he’s out of time, out of place, and he’s in what resembles most those office buildings he’s seen so many of Midgard. Being crammed in an elevator with these strange people gave him eerie flashbacks to Sakaar, until he’s finally greeted by a significantly short human, brown suit, silver hair and moustache and a lop-sided grin.

Naturally, Thor smiles back in the midst of his confusion, it’s only good manners, you hear.

“Ah!” the man exclaims, patting his elbow with the other hand guiding him forward, “The god of thunder himself! Mighty pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

He nods, following, unsure still what’s going on. But Thor’s made too many enemies of a human lifetime, a long time ago, and he wouldn’t want to get on these humans’ bad side, even though they technically kidnapped him… peculiar.

If Loki was here, they’d probably have their knife ready at lightning speed. Classic Loki.

“Well, thank you! I wish I could say the same, but I’m not sure… where I am,” Thor answers. This really does look like an office, one the Midgardians had a decade or so, probably, before they updated themselves. Modernization, that’s what it’s called, silly humans.

“Fair is fair,” the grey haired human turns to him, “Welcome to the Time Variance Authority, TVA for short! I think I speak for everyone here when I say we’re excited to have you here.”

The man chuckles, and Thor doesn’t know if it’s to himself or directed towards him, until the human shrugs. There’s still two of those persons with weaponry and strange glowing devices on either side of them, and it seems his new acquaintance realises the need for explanation.

“Well, technically, you’re not staying as much as… you’re under arrest,” he then says, smile turning hesitant and scratching his cheek.

Arrest?!  

That’s certainly a surprise, given human laws don’t really apply to his own kind. Of course, Avenging has different rules and such… but alas.

It seems his new friend notices his eyes widen, significantly, “But don’t worry, buddy! You’re a special case, of course.”

Thor stammers, he always feels a certain embarrassment over himself when this happens, “May I- may I ask for what offense? I don’t mean to offend, these quarters are quite splendid, but Midgard and Asgard operate different-”

“Oh no,” the man interrupts, keeping a quick pace, “I’m afraid this isn’t Midgard, big guy. The TVA, we, well, control all of time!”

The guards escorting them, they must be guards, stop at the same time Thor stops in pure shock. His father never mentioned anything like this. Is this part of the nine realms? He wonders who these people are, if not human. They surely cannot be gods?

“You control… time?”

“Exactamundo! The sacred timeline, to be precise. Let me show you,” his new acquaintance guides him further with that, until they reach a strangely void room, a single table, pair of chairs and some sort of machine the only things in sight. One of those Midgardian ‘computers’?

And when he’s seated (the chair isn’t quite built for a god of his stature, but he shouldn’t complain, politeness is key, of course), this strange man shows him what appears to be a video. A video of… his life. Thor’s life, that is.

This is absurd. “How do you know this? What-”

“We know everything, buddy,” the man tells him, shuts down the device, grin sheepish, “It’s in the job description, you see?”

Thor doesn’t know what to think, rather, his mind feels somehow numb.

He was just with Loki, she was there, within his grasp, then… this. Thor also doesn’t know how long he sits staring at his acquaintance in confusion until another thought dawns upon him, “Do you have Steve Rogers, too?”

The grin lessens, mouth forming a small o, but the man nods once, “Ah, yes, another department. You two sure know how to cause trouble, huh?”

So he gets an answer, but it leaves him none the wiser, or clearer headed, or understanding. It rather feels like those sort of outlandish dreams children have, like he had when he was younger.

But what can he do? Just face this head-on?

Thor wonders if Heimdall can see him right now. Not… his Heimdall, another Heimdall, who might be alive. A Loki who might be alive, if he can save them.

“May I ask one more question of you, uh…”

“Mobius M. Mobius, at your service.”

“Ah,” he replies, and hesitantly smiles back at the grin he receives, “Then why am I here? This  department , I mean?”

The stranger, Mobius, chuckles. It’s short handed and with the professionalism of those Midgardian businessmen with replicated suits and briefcases and phones chiming them down. Is this Mobius even human? More Asgardian?

“We’re in need of assistance, you might say,” he finally answers, and turns to power up the machinery once more, “And I, for one, have a feeling you might be invaluable for the cause.”

*

Although Thor is not sure he yet understands everything in this strange world he’s now come into, this new friend, Mobius, is very educational, and while the thought of being arrested wasn’t all too pleasing, apparently, they wished for him to work for them, instead.

His offence, that’s yet another thing he still doesn’t understand. Thor wasn’t aware of this, uh, this  Sacred Timeline , as they call it. Surely a god of his status should’ve been told, shouldn’t he?

He comes to wonder if their father ever knew about this.

Thor is fairly sure about one thing, that Odin wouldn’t possibly have told them, had he had that knowledge. And what about Hela?

But he quickly learns not to think about this too much, and he counts about three Asgardian weeks in the TVA, although he has no idea how time works  here , at all. Mobius always says it’s too complicated to explain, maybe he thinks Thor wouldn’t understand.

Loki always said he was as dumb as a doornail. But she never meant it out of spite, he reasons, surely, they’ve always had that sense of humor between the two of them. He loves Loki very much, even when she lets him down. He only hopes his younger sibling feels the same.

Speaking of Loki, that is another thing Thor learns in this weird world- uh, city? Country? Timeline? The TVA is its own thing entirely.

But what he learns, much like his whole life, is that his destiny will forever and always be tied to Loki, and Loki’s to his. Because his new friends at the TVA hired him to find, and catch, his younger sibling and bring them in for a similar crime to his own.

Although he’s also  killing people in the process, Mobius explains much to Thor’s horror, and he’ll have to make sure Loki’s not hurt when he finds him, and ask him why this bloodshed is necessary. Again.

Of course, there must be a good reason as to why she’s doing it, he had a good reason to mess with the timeline himself, he must say, and Loki is incredibly clever, his younger sibling’s grand scheme must be extraordinary. He just wishes she wouldn’t hurt other people in the process, they’ve been over this, but she was getting better!

As Mobius put it, “You know them better than anyone, pal, I’ve got a hunch you’re the only one who can find out where they’re hiding. Well, besides themselves.”

Yes, Thor was not certain this was a good idea.

He traveled back in time to  save his younger sibling, not cause him even more pain. But Mobius seems somewhat trustworthy, and very polite. He assured him justice would be served fairly, and even a lesser punishment considering the help he himself provides!

Sometimes, Thor has to follow his gut. Loki always hated this trait of his.

This work proves tricky, and tedious, and of course, his sibling is sneaky and manages to escape the TVA time and time again, and if they would just bring Thor with them, surely, he could talk to her. Not apprehend her, but  communicate . Not everyone here trusts him as much as Mobius, though, regrettably.

What is curious about his new friend, and Thor’s spent a few nights now racking his brain about this, is that some of the questions he’s posed about Loki are quite specific.

They must be important for the case, he figures.

Just a week ago, hunched over files and files of timeline lingo and alternate futures that Thor has several conflicting emotions about reading, the grey haired man looked up from his scribbles and met his eye.

“Say, Thor,” he started, scratching his chin and twirling the pen in his hand, “Loki ever tell ya what they fancy for dinner?”

And the god had to blink, shuffling the papers. Did he hear it correctly?

“Dinner?”

“I mean, humans, they have favorite foods, you know? Like, preferences,” he chuckled, “I only assume Asgardians are similar?”

Thor smiles as he does when in situations where he doesn’t understand what’s going on, but simple curiousity never hurt anyone. This person’s strange, stranger than the Avengers, but he loved them all the same. “Of course. Loki’s very fond of goat. Herring, too, and our mother’s apple pie.”

Mobius nodded with a grin, and spoke no more of the subject, until two days later (Thor  thinks  it was two days, as mentioned before, time here confuses him profusely), where his friend inquired him about his younger sibling’s eye color.

They’re blue, clearly.

More muted than Thor’s own, but never grey, although some of these files have wrongly informed otherwise.

Really, this interest Mobius reveals in his younger sibling doesn’t faze him at first, but he’s thinking about it more and more often, as it turns out. And today, when the suited man asks him if Loki might be interested in water sports, it only sends Thor further into the obyss of confusion.

Firstly, he’s not sure what these water sports entail. Second, although he doesn’t doubt Mobius is a reasonable man, what does this have to do with arresting Loki?

“Forgive me,” Thor replies, “What are, uh… water sports?”

“Oh, yes! Sorry, big guy. Ya know, jetskis are quite fun for humans and otherwise. Diving, too. You think Loki would like that sort of thing?”

The god finds himself worrying his lip with little answer to the peculiar question. “Perhaps. They love adventures, you see, that’s a thing we have in common. You think Loki’s hiding somewhere, with, uh… jetskis?”

The grey haired man shrugs. Quite strange.

Then his friend continues as they walk along the hall, past several hunters and seemingly high security offices, “She must like jokes, right?”

“Oh, of course.”

Mobius laughs, “I figured,” and his smile isn’t aimed at Thor, but somewhere into the open air, distant and unexplainably fond, “God of Mischief, pranks in his blood. I’m not too bad myself.”

“Huh?”

When the shorter man opens the door for him, he shrugs again, “Sorry, buddy, this way. I mean, they’re incredibly witty. Don’t need to tell you that, I get it. I heard this joke from a Variant, I think they might like that one. You know it? So once there was-”

And so Mobius continues on, the joke must be brilliant, he’s already wheezing to himself, but now, the god’s pretty sure he understands.

Oh.

Oh.

Thor’s not as stupid as Loki claims, you see. And he has to say, he knows courtship when he sees it.

*

Does Thor understand why his younger sibling- or, a version of her, regardless, is hiding out in historic  apocalypses ? No, there’s not much logic in this, but it’s certainly in no way surprising.

Loki’s got a knack for adventures and danger simultaneously, after all.

But when he realises what Loki’s doing, he simply has to go, even if his moustached friend isn’t sure how to clear it with the TVA, or if it’s breaking the rules, but isn’t this what they assigned the god to do in the first place?

This is his younger sibling. Loki’s alive. And Thor, well, like he’s done all his life, and like Loki’s done all their life, one must always follow the other, at one point or the other. It’s fate, he decides.

And he finds him,  finally , after what feels as hundreds of millions of human years and even longer of their own, in the human city of Pompeii.

Loki isn’t exactly pleased to hear the TVA coming, that much is obvious from his face, but Thor is alone, and it’s only a matter of time before Mobius arrives, so Thor must find a chance to talk to his sibling alone.

And his sibling’s face changes from the expectant grin of a plan to kill the minutemen when they arrive to a gaping mouth in shock. Then realisation. Then frustration.

“Loki!”

And the god of mischief groans, exasperated and loud, the screams of the civilians barely fazing them, “Thor.”

It’s a matter of time, then, because they don’t  have much time before they’ll be sunken into the ground they’re standing on, and like Thor first started out his adventure in the Sacred Timeline, his first thought is to get Loki out of there.

It’s his first priority, to keep her safe. There’ll be no death. Not today. Not again.

His younger sibling has their eyes on the volcano as well, their many differences being so in sync at the strangest of times, and before Thor can even think about it, Loki reaches for his arm and they’re teleported somewhere- and some… when? else entirely.

It’s eerily quiet here, a distant rumble from the sky. Rocks as far as he can see. Darkness, besides bolts of lightning striking into the ocean before them, and blinking lights distantly behind them.

And here Loki is; a Variant like himself, as Mobius called it. Breathing.

“Why is it,” she nearly yells, clutching the strange device in her hand and giving Thor that familiar glare of destruction, “You always find a way, somehow,  anywhere, to ruin my perfect plan, brother? How? How are you here, you damn fool!?”

The insult is as it always is, and Loki looks like his blood might nearly boil over, but Thor just can’t help it. 

He feels the tears in his eyes before they even fall. “Loki.”

“What-”

It’s only a small handful of times in all the centuries they’ve lived that he’s managed to stun his sibling into silence, a loss of words. This is another incident to add to the list.

Thor grips on so tight, he never wants to let go.

He can’t remember the last time they hugged, actually. It might’ve been when they were children.

Loki pats on his back, after a minute or two, and a breath of annoyance and… something else sounds at the same time as his own staggering breathing. His sibling’s never returned his hugs, you see, but she’s doing it now. At least, Thor surely wouldn’t mistake her holding onto him, albeit not as tightly as himself.

They sigh, “What has gotten into you now, you idiot?”

Thor laughs. It’s strained, but it feels  good. That one, that’s a thing he’s missed. Loki will surely think he’s lost his mind, but there’s nothing he’d rather do right now than listen to him call him the crudest things they could think of.

It feels like coming back home.

“You’re alive,” Thor whispers.

Loki huffs. “You’ve fallen for my fake death, huh? You fall for it every time.”

He shakes his head in response, knowing his sibling won’t be able to see it, but ultimately lets go, and just looks at them. He smiles. Weirdly, hesitantly, confusedly, Loki smiles back.

“You’re an idiot,” she tells him again, but it’s softer this time.

“Where have you taken us?” Thor asks instead, and the answer is for once a place he knows of, “This is Midgard, brother, but way after the humans. In about an hour, it’ll be nothing but dust.”

That’s a frightening thought, he decides. He’s already seen Asgard in ruins.

And Thor has to take him somewhere safer, before Mobius arrives. They can’t go back to the TVA without some explanation, Loki deserves that.

His sibling seems severely surprised when he uses his own device, and a protest begins, of course, but Thor finds the right time, in Asgard, and jumps them both to it. Before their mother’s death. They’ll have to steer clear of the past versions of themselves, and their parents, and anyone else, considering Loki was imprisoned, but they’ll be safe.

And easy to spot.

“Now is not a time for a homecoming, Thor,” she tells him, already pulling up the device.

“Loki, no,” he reaches out, and Loki reaches for their knife, classic Loki, “Give me time to explain, before they come.”

He rolls his eyes but doesn’t raise the knife, “You’re not taking me to the TVA, brother.”

Thor blinks. He almost wants to rewind time on that little screen in his hand, to make sure he heard them right, but stranger things have happened. “You know about the TVA?”

“Of course I do, you buffoon. Who do you think I’m running from?”

He bites his tongue. Oh.

Thor has to shrug. Loki sighs again.

“I know, I know, they’ll arrest me for crimes against the  Sacred Timeline  ,” they say, in an overly dramatic voice and throwing around their hands in flourish, “I can’t believe they got you to help them. I can’t believe  you found me.”

It feels quite like the good, old days, as Stark used to say. “I know you, Loki, even if you don’t think I do.”

They both settle into silence, and this is also strange, but the smile he gets in return, less confused and more nostalgic and… safe, it makes it worth it.

Then, the device in Thor’s hand beeps, and he lets his sibling look at it, and he looks all the more annoyed again.

“Guess I’ll have to surrender now, because of you,” she grumbles, for once, not searching for an escape route, “Who’s leading, anyway? B-15?”

Thor pats his shoulder, in what he hopes conveys comfort. “I’m not familiar, unfortunately. This leader is named Mobius.”

His sibling frowns, but shrugs non committedly, “A new face, then.”

It’s not very often Thor sees Loki in this state, confusion, if ever. His younger sibling’s always been one step ahead of them, two, even, himself struggling to keep up. That’s why he’s always had to watch out for them, before… before the Avengers.

“He seems very interested in you,” he chuckles, and when Loki only frowns deeper, he has to explain his ongoing suspicion, “He’s asked me a great many questions about you. I believe he admires you very much. Even more than myself.”

“So he’s a fan,” Loki says - ignoring the last statement of his, of course, but Thor knows she heard it.

“I’d say more than a fan,” he decides to be honest, and Loki’s brows furrow. Thor pats his sibling’s shoulder once more, “He holds, it seems, similar feelings to when I was courting Lady Jane.”

Loki looks like a giant question mark. “I beg your pardon?”

But they’re interrupted, as per usual. The answer Thor wants out doesn’t get out before Mobius steps out of the time portal, and grins at them both. He seems to hold his gaze at his sibling a little bit longer. His demeanor’s calm, as if… recognition. Coming back home.

And Loki stares back at their brother, eyes wide and brows raised, tilting her head, “This is the Mobius who wants to… court me?”

Thor nods. Loki’s mouth turns upwards to a grin, mischief absent from his face. And even if they’ll deny it if Thor mentions it, his younger sibling’s eyes hold a certain warmth when they look back at the stranger. “I see.”

*

Many great strange things have happened in what seems a short amount of time, but Thor’s put out of work at the TVA, and his sibling’s put to work instead, and Mobius tells him they’ll  reset  him.

“Don’t worry, big guy, it doesn’t hurt,” he chuckles, adjusting his tie, “Your friend Steve had the same deal. Wouldn’t call it punishment, but it’s subjective. You did good work, ya know.”

Loki’s sat at Mobius’ now abandoned desk, one hand on a stack of case files, her eyes meeting with Thor’s own. They’re used to goodbyes, as you can tell. And emotions aren’t exactly their strongest suit.

But his sibling nods to him. The smile has no hints of sarcasm, so he counts it as a win. As progress.

Thor doesn’t know if he can stop worrying, after all. He’ll always do it, and what if he, another version of himself, tries to go back in time again?

Loki’s the only family he has left. But at the same time, his younger sibling is right. 

The sun will shine on us again. In another timeline, another universe, he figures. For now, Thor will have to let go, but they’ll always be connected after all. Thor and Loki couldn't be more different, but somehow the same.

“She’ll be safe here?” he asks, because he  has to, “You’re certain?”

Mobius smiles, like he’s heard it a million times before, “I promised you. I keep my promises, Thor.”

Of course. Of course. It’ll be fine. He’ll be fine.

“You ready?” his suited friend then asks, and he hesitantly nods.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

The man nods back, and the device in his hand lights up. The seconds seem excruciatingly long, but he’s got to get back, get moving, even without his younger sibling beside him. It’s a comforting thought, knowing there’s many more of them out there, in other timelines, following each other over and over again, as they’re meant to.

“Thank you, by the way,” Mobius then says, strangely enough, as the beams become stronger and the seconds count down. He winks before holding it out to Thor, a gesture for the reset to be complete, “For bringing them back to me.”

[hopeshoodie]

Why is your user hopeshoodie? I liked bublybabynails better

LOL I definitely lost a lot of 'brand recognition' or whatever when I changed it, but bubblybabynailpolish was just too long and too obscure. Conversely, I could talk about the hoodie scene for hours.

I'm obsessed with how Noah and Hope interact and treat themselves and each other, in that scene (and the baby scene) specifically.

Ok first of all I love how MC’s only tangentially involved, we hear Noah and Hope arguing off screen, we see people’s reactions to that, but MC isn’t involved until after they’re done arguing. It’s a really organic way to incorporate conflict, because other things like Shannon/Jo fighting or Lottie/Priya fighting it feels like MC is thrust into it and doesn’t have a reason to be involved.

But we get to play the aftermath of the hoodie fight. We get to have both Hope and Noah confide in us about how they’re actually feeling. And how they’re feeling is so nuanced and realistic, I love it. Hope is overwhelmed because she feels beholden to Noah.

Her pride (she told all the girls she didn’t want a short-term fling and clearly has a chip on her shoulder from men not treating her how she deserves)

her fear (about being in the game without a clear couple and clear desire to do well in the game)

her social pressure (everyone keeps reinforcing that Nope is such a good couple and she wants to keep that façade)

her genuine interest in Noah and enjoyment of the domesticity and intimacy he provides

On top of all of that, she later acknowledges she has a temper and it’s clear in the game that she’s having a hard time dealing with the stress of competition and anger at Noah. Instead of productively working on that (which like… who would even be able to do that in the villa), she scolds and yells at Noah. Then when shuts down in reaction to that and leaves the situation, that further incenses her. It’s not right, but it’s real. She’s not a bad person, but chasing Noah down to continue yelling at him is clearly a bad thing to do.

Besides that, they clearly have physical attraction, but Noah fundamentally isn’t what Hope wants. She loves how he’s comfortable in his masculinity and that he dotes on her, but she also wants someone who a bit of austerity to them. Noah’s a librarian who’s into fandoms, he lacks that machismo that she wants. And she wants someone who will match her career driven and social lifestyle, while he’s outspoken about wanting a family and being fine with where his career is. So there’s frustration on her end of wanting Noah (and to a certain extent expecting him) to be this suave, ambitious man that he’s not, but still liking him.

And that’s all been building up, and they have been since day 2. Hope and Noah vacillate wildly from being intensely domestic and intimate, to antagonizing each other, and I think that’s all because they just don’t know each other super well and neither are super satisfied with the relationship.

And Noah's not 100% satisfied in a relationship with Hope either

Noah’s a people pleaser without a backbone, and while he clearly enjoys Hope’s romantic overtures, he doesn’t want to put in the work to address her insecurity or to communicate with her. He's subject to all the same external pressures, but then add on top of that him being so nonconfrontational and he's paralyzed.

She does have a temper, and that clearly puts him off. Instead of communicating that to her or working on it, he pretends it doesn’t happen afterwards and when he’s in the moment he’ll run away or shut down. If his reaction to MC pointing out he’s being unfair to both Priya and Hope is anything to go off on, I imagine there’s quite a bit of gaslighting and blame shifting on his end too.

To a lesser extent than her, he also wants her to be someone different than she is. His “ladylike” comment and surprise at the mean tweets challenges belies that he thinks  and wants Hope to be this bubbly, supportive, decorous woman that would be a good mother and wife.

So these two are simultaneously reckoning with how they might not be happy in this relationship, and it comes to a head in the SHITTIEST way possible. I love their argument.

Hope's overwhelmed and getting upset about things that don't matter (her hoodie string being pulled out). Noah, being a poor interpersonal communicator and only focusing on the small details he can fix, belittles her by saying he'll buy a new one. She interprets that he's calling her shallow (which in a way he is), then retaliates by making a classist comment back at him. As the fight escalates from there, they're both arguing about things other than what they're actually saying and separate from the other's grievances.

I'm just obsessed with the scene of MC talking to Hope afterward. She has such clarify and self possession that she's unable to have in moments of heated emotion, and I love how she lays out everything that's bothering her to me, her bestie, but can't do it for Noah. It really shows that MC/Hope have built this mutually supportive and open communication that Noah/Hope have not fostered together.

And then Noah being a doofus and fixing the string is v cute and misguided, and I love that they're both working towards fixing it, even when they're not together.

Hope and Noah are the most interesting part of LITG, idc what anyone says. They're just so fundamentally wrong for each other but try so hard despite it, and make each other miserable in the process.

[atmilliways]

Both going to grab the same thing and touching hands, then making eye contact.

[cliche tropes & prompts]

You got it! This prompt is from January, so here's PROOF that I really AM still working on old requests. 😂

You didn't specify a fandom or pairing, so I just went with some pre-klok Nathan and Skwisgaar. Some discussion of condoms and totally gay kissing included.

They Both, They Both They Both Reached For

“So, uh. How’s it going?” Nathan asked absently while he dug around in the bathroom drawer dor a condom. What a dumb idea to just dump them all in there loose like this, who’s dumbass idea had that been—but then, nothing else in their apartment was very organized, so why would this be.

“Eughhhhh, pretty goods.” Skwisgaar, looking impatiently over the other man’s shoulder. “I means, I ams here. Waitings for this pro-fah-crack-tits thing all yous Ameriscans womens ams obsessings with just to get into-sides of you knows whats. This whole times.”

“Alright, fucking . . . shut up a minute.”

With a jerk, Nathan pulled the drawer completely out of the cabinet and dumped the contents on the corroded countertop. He poked through the resulting mess with a finger, frowning. The condom wrappers were flashy and distinctive, so they should have been easy to spot. Except. . . . .

Nothing was catching his eye.

“Fuck, I think. . . . I think we’re out.”

“Noooooooooooooes,” Skwisgaar moaned in anguish, crowding close to see for himself. Unfortunately for Nathan, that meant scrawny guitarist chest pressed against one side of his back—and they’d both just been engaged in activities that had involved a certain amount of getting sweaty. Gross.

They both saw it at the same time: one last condom. The last condom, aka ticket to getting laid, aka all inclusive evening vacation to pound town. Both men thought, Mine!

Nathan was closer, but Skwisgaar had longer arms. First, their hands banged together. They each whipped their heads around to glare at each other, vivid green irritated frown meeting icy blue suspicious glare. Then they descended into an unruly mess of reaching for it and trying to stop the other from getting anywhere near it at the same time.

Before long, the scuffle went from just hands, to arms, to a full bodies event. Nathan banged an elbow on the sink, Skwisgaar nearly got knocked ass-first into the toilet, and even some hair pulling became involved. But it all happened more or less silently, lest their dates overheard and got too annoyed to still be in the mood.

“Gives it to’s me!” Skwisgaar hissed.

“I was here first!” Nathan whisper-rumbled. “Ow—you bit me!”

“Goods, I was tryings to! Ahhhhggh—Okays, okays! Truce?”

“. . . Fine.”

They pulled apart, eyeing each other warily. Nathan had won the strategic position of standing nearest to the bathroom door.

“How are we going to fucking decide that I should get the last condom?” he asked irritably.

Skwisgaar tossed his head in annoyance. “Pfft, whats makes you so sures you gets it? I gots a real greats ladies ins there, can’ts lets her be the ones what gets away.”

“You’ve had a date every night this week!”

Skwisgaar shrugged, blond hair cascading over his pale, scrawny shoulders. If he was trying to loom, he failed; he might have had the advantage in height, but Nathan was too solidly built to be intimidated by a handful of inches. It was like a string bean trying to overshadow a squash. “Can’t help beings popsular, Nathans, it ams my curse.”

Nathan snorted, but grudgingly changed tracks. “I’ll play you rock paper scissors for it.”

“Fucks nos! Last time we does thats you hits me unsconskous with yous dumb rock fist and I wokes up an hours later with a heads-ache.”

“Well . . . fine, but how the fuck are we going to settle this?”

A bit of mischief sparked in Skwisgaar’s eye and a smile began to bloom across his face. “I gots an is-dea, I thinks,” he said slowly.

“. . . What idea?” Nathan asked. They’d been roommates for a few months. They got along pretty well, for the most part. Occasionally one would throw out some suggestions for the others’ musical projects that actually turned out to be really on point and helpful. It was a good arrangement.

But Nathan still wasn’t sure he trusted the guy in matters of the dick. Skwisgaar seemed like the type willing to fight dirty.

“Ams simple,” Skwisgaar replied, smile widening and sharpening at the same time. “Whoever ams better, gets it.”

Nathan, feeling as though he was being zeroed in on in some way, was about to ask better at what—and perhaps that was the exact sort of thing people were talking about when they told him he was a little slow. Before he knew what was happening Skwisgaar was seeping into his personal space, hips angled unexpectedly close, hands sneaking up to hold his head in place, tipping his chin up a little, and kissing him.

Lips, tongue, warmth. And, fuck, Skwisgaar was good at kissing. Maybe it was a European thing.

Shock took over, or Nathan would have totally shoved him away. . . . But also, he had literally just come in here from making out and heavy petting, so it wasn’t like this was a huge jump in genre, even if it felt weird to tilt up for a change. That was his excuse for slowly yielding and then kissing back while his hands went instinctively to the Swede’s ass.

Once he’d fully jumped in, the kiss deepened and quickly became a fast-paced game of back and forth, push-me-pull-you, tug of war. That was the idea, right? See who was better? Well, in order to determine that and win the prize, he had to participate. And he was really, really motivated to win that prize.

He wasn’t sure when his eyes had closed, but it might have been around the time he’d started to use his teeth and Skwisgaar had retaliated by sucking on his entire lower lip.

He wasn’t sure when his focus on what the prize actually was had started to get kind of hazy. Ignored but not forgotten, the partial hardon in his underwear was definitely beginning to show signs of interest; he felt a similar twitch through the white silk boxers pressed against his stomach. Skwisgaar made a soft, inviting sort of sound into his mouth and pressed in closer.

He wasn’t sure, at first, what to do with himself when the other man broke the kiss with a triumphant laugh, holding up the brightly colored condom wrapper just close enough for Nathan to see but not take.

“Looks to mine two eye whats I win,” Skwisgaar crowed, kiss-reddened lips flashing into a smirk. “Ha! Better lucks next night, dildo!”

With that, he stepped around Nathan and slipped out of the bathroom—but not without bestowing a farewell hand on Nathan’s ass, a slap with just a hint of a grope.

Nathan stood there for a little longer trying to gather his thoughts—the most coherent of which were along the lines of, Huh, I guess I was right about that playing dirty thing.

His roommate had just kissed him, which was completely gay . . . but he hadn’t hated it. Actually, he’d kind of the opposite of hated it. And maybe wouldn’t mind doing it again, see what else those lips could do. It would probably be worth it; he happened to know that Skwisgaar had broken up at least half of the bands he’d played guitar in with his dick. Not that Nathan was thinking about his roommate’s dick!

. . . Maybe they should be in a band together. Nathan had been thinking about putting one together for a while—not just a band but the band, the one he’d saved all of his best shit for. They seemed to be on the same wavelength, Skwisgaar was an expert guitarist. He would make a good lead. . . .

Or something like that. He’d have to think about it more later.

In the meantime, Nathan was all wound up and with limited options for getting off. He shook his head to clear it and reminded himself that he still had a girl in his room, so at least the night wasn’t going to be a complete bust. . . . Even if it probably meant having to, ugh, reciprocate oral sex.

[shyrose57]

YOO BROTHERS ANON BACK FROM THE DEAD? My phone started to fucking die half way (like extreme lag, keyboard stopped working at times, sudden shut offs, etc) and I was too scared to work on this in fear it'd get deleted. But im fucking back and have a new phone so I was able to finally finish. Plus after I finished the Brothers AU stuff I decided I hated Tip of The Iceburg AU lore and wanted to redo it so held off til I got that mostly done. I'm also trying to redo From Future to Past a lil bit but thats going slowly and decided I already waited way to long. Some other stuff happened as well like falling out of the fandom (Breath of The Wild and Linked Universe I got into and am actually still kinda in) then getting tossed back in but, anyway there's some smaller details I left out of Rans time living in the wild but everything here is the big stuff. 

Keep in mind most of this happens when he's just 13. And he never acknowledges or treats his trauma, leaving it to build and affect him more and more over time. 

When Ran first steps out of Mizu and into the world, he has nothing but a sword at his back and a book with little information on how to survive at his hip. The book really only provides him how to make certain things (like tools) and some basic information (Spiders are passive in daytime, how to farm, and basic information about each nether biome). The book acts more like a brief overview of the overworld and little information on how to survive than an actual survival book. Because of this the book is basically useless, Ran eventually uses it as a way of marking down notes and ripping out papers to cover wounds and tie things. He quickly learns that sleeping in high places (like a tree or a hole in a mountain) is the safest possible place to sleep, as no mobs or people can get him. Though due to the nights of constant screaming from mobs, his own internal fighting, and eventual hunting, he develops insomnia and paranoia. Leaving him unable to close his eyes in fear of being ambushed, believing himself to be forever unsafe and in danger. When he does manage to sleep he keeps his weapons nearby (like in his hand or under his pillow) and jumps awake at the slightest sound. 

He moves around constantly, never staying in one place for more than 2 weeks. He eventually finds a snow biome and after seeing the little amount of mobs and knowing the snow is to deep for any sane human to try to travel through, he decides to stay there for a entire year and a half before moving again. During this time he grows both physically and mentally. He goes from being a small, lithe 5'5 13 year old to being a strong 6'7 15 year old. He also uses this time to come to terms with what happened and swear revenge against Ranbob for everything he's been through and everyone who's died. Even when Ran came to terms with what his brother did, the promise "Ill never abandon you." Continues to ring in his head, which does nothing but fuel his hatred, believing his brother has been lying to him ever since he was a child. While also growing his knowledge on the world and his survival knowledge, becoming an almost perfect survivalist. 

When he was first alone and dealing with all the emotions brought upon him, he finds out he's hunted very suddenly. He first approached Raq (who he didn't know at the time) when he was desperate and fresh out of Mizu, asking him if there's any nearby town or city or really anything. Raq pretends to want to help Ran and let's him stay at his camp, giving him food and a warm place to sleep. But its 2 full days later, deep in the night when Raq finally trys to attack him, aiming to incapacitate him. But Ran is able to escape him and run away but not without a injury. 

During the fight Raq manages to hit him, specifically on his left ear. He manages to cut deep, but not deep enough, leaving the top of his ear just barely hanging on. Ran runs away and actually has a bit of a head start due to him tripping Raq. But Raq manages to follow/track him, due to the blood flowing out of Rans ear. Ran eventually realizes Raq is tracking him by the blood trail he's leaving, so he stops, steals himself, and rips off the remaining part of his ear, barely holding back a yell, then Ran pushes his hand down on the wound and continues to run. Raq finds the ear and simply hums, intrigued by the lengths Ran will go to escape, before turning around, deciding to let Ran escape this time, because he knows he'll see him again. Ran continues to run, terrified and borderline crying due to the fear and pain. For the next 3 days he believes he is still being followed by Raq so he continues to run, never resting until he eventually collapses from exhaustion. His ear eventually heals over but never grows back, it becomes a reminder of the fact he is being constantly hunted by people and will never escape them. 

Ran encounters Raq a total of 32 times during his time living out in the wild. And every time Ran manages to get away, though sometimes more injured than others. Eventually it gets to the point Raq greets Ran like a old friend. After their 3rd encounter Raq starts to bring others with him, eventually he has 5 others helping him hunt Ran. Though Ran grows and is able to either outwit them by using traps or is just simply able to avoid them most of the time. Though he still gets hit at times, once he made a mistake and a trap failed, leading to him getting stabbed and passing out cause blood loss.

The Nether is less than kind to Ran but kinder than the overworld. He gets shot a lot from both ghasts and skeletons. And almost falls into lava multiple times. He gets stabbed and trips more times than he can count. But he actually manages to make acquaintance with the Piglins he meets due to him being polite to them and giving them gold for nothing in return. He actually is close enough to them to get directions for free and is even given resistance potions when Ran states he is leaving and not coming back as a farewell and stay safe gift. He ends up staying in the Nether for much longer than a normal person would and becomes adapt at traversing and surviving in it. It almost becomes his safe spot because the hunters have never followed him into the Nether. He would've lived there if he could, but due to the heat he isn't used too and the fact he just despised Ghasts more than the hunters, and they were everywhere in there, he didn't stay. But would often vist. Eventually he found netherite which he quickly covered his first and only diamond sword with. His sword also had the enchantments, sharpness 2, unbreaking 3, and sweaping edge. Over time and use the enchantments dimmed, only faintly remaining. At this point Ran had to flee his snow biome house due to a sudden attack, leaving behind the materials he needed to fix the enchantments and his sword. So he abandoned using it, but kept it cause it helped him through years of fighting, he can't exactly drop and leave it.

Extra stuff I couldn't find a way to fit in:

-Ran manages to find a village but actually gets kicked out cause he punches the blacksmith for upping the price of an iron sword.

-Ran slowly grows more cold, uncaring, rude, and harsh over time due to trauma. He doesn't realize he became this way due to untreated trauma until he arrives to The Pit where Watson is able to help him start to slowly heal. Which is why he becomes more open and joking in The Pit because he feels safe and loved. 

-When the group leaves The Pit he becomes cold and hard again due to habit. Its his way of subconsciously defending himself.

-His body is covered in scars due to the hunters and his brushes with mobs. 

-Ran knows how to tailor his own clothes and has made many different kinds of clothes, all designed for certain biomes. 

-Ran never farmed, he always hunted.

-Ran never really built anything, instead he preferred to dig into the side of a mountain or make shelter in a cave. Its only in the snow biome did he actually build a house. And even then it was very clearly meant to be a temporary house. Though he did end up living there longer than he intended. 

-He was at first extremely reluctant to kill, but was forced to kill hunters and animals multiple times. To the point he became almost numb to it and wouldn't hesitate to kill if he was threatened. 

-He would sometimes dream about his family only for it to end with them being slaughtered, which really messed him up and he would just lay in bed mindlessly every time it happened. These dreams still happen. 

Also a edit to when the brothers met in the Pit, Ran actually gets his hands on a broken trident accidentally left in the arena (its the front end only, and the middle spike is shorter than the rest due to a error when being made) and ends up tripping Ranbob then stabbing the trident into the ground over him (if that makes sense?), actually trapping Ranbob, with the middle spike just above his throat, leaving him unable to move unless he wants to cut his neck and trapped on the ground. 

Tip of The Iceburg:

So Karl's watch is still damaged. And Isaac is still the one to convince him to seek help from the others. But midway through the meeting Phil speaks up, mentioning how he found a book in a ruined village that had a replica of Karl's Watch etched into the cover, but is in a language he's never seen. After passing it around the table no one recognizes it. Everyone's discouraged until Foolish suggests they look for the other Travelers (what ima call the Tales people) and maybe one of them will know. Eventually, with picture pinning of supposedly who could be in their world, they all split off into groups to look. Ran is still the first found, but when he's shown the book he actually confirms a part of it is in a old enderman language that fell off long ago, he's able to translate half of that section but says that Ranbob, who studied old languages much more thoroughly than Ran can do the rest (cause here their still brothers but nothing in Brothers AU happened). Giving everyone hope. Eventually Ranbob gets found and translates the rest, but a great amount is still untranslated, which is a problem. So now its a journey of finding more people and mixing languages to find out the rest. 

A sudden twist to the story happens when Billiam joins, and due to his experience with the egg is actually able to translate a random page in the back of the book (the egg made its own language to prevent its plans being discovered). Where they find out the egg is what broke Karls watch, because to it humans are nothing but entertainment, and it gets joy seeing them suffer and wants to mess with their lives. When it gets revealed to the rest of the SMP what the page says, everyone gets pissed. And even when its found how to get the Travelers home they refuse to leave until the egg is destroyed, a few are mad at it and want revenge, others are scared and want to try to prevent it from coming into their time. Karl eventually relents and lets them join in making a plan to take down the egg.  

Also have some fluff scenarios with the brothers since its been a while:

-There's two types of resistance potions in their world, fire resistance and water resistance. The latter of which the brothers have memorized how to make. Their friends do not know water resistance exists. Which leads to the brothers pranking their friends by drinking some then jumping into a lake. Giving Watson a heartattack and making Isaac sob. The two quickly reemerge seeing their reactions and calm them and reassure them. After the explanation you can bet they got a talking too and where grounded. 

-Ran teaches Ranbob to fight!

-Ranbob teaches Ran to fish, Ran complains the entire time. 

-Ranbob responds by threatening to teach Ran how to farm. Ran stops complaining after that….mostly

-Everyone has found the brothers either asleep against each other or one asleep on the other at least twice. 

-*insert Arthur get out of the tank meme but instead it's Ranbob trying to get Ran out of a tree so he can greet people.*

-Ran has his first night in years without a nightmare! 

Now something else I'm planning to work on soon: What happened to Ranbob after Ran left Mizu?

I hope me sending stuff is still ok after so long of sending nothing. 

Good to have you back, Brothers Anon! And sorry to hear about your phone, that sounds like it must've a day.

--------

Brothers AU:

I see we're back to Traumatize The Brothers Time, fantastic.

The fact that Ran has these items on him is interesting. Did he just have them with him when he was fleeing? Did he have the time to grab them? Was he preparing ahead? What led to him having these useful tools on hand when he was forced to flee?

How does he fare with mobs, being a mob hybrid himself? I think it's somewhat been implied that he's good with Endermen, but what about others?

How do the gladiator gang go about helping with his insomnia and paranoia, if they are aware of it?

What's it like for him during his time in the snow-biome, since he's there for awhile? Does he make a more-permanent camp/shelter? Do anything particularly interesting?

Poor Ran! That must've been quite the shock for him, and I imagine it didn't help his trust issues.

How does he get to the Nether? Does he have a base there? What do the piglins think of him, and vice versa? How does the Nether life effect him overall?

What happened to those materials left behind? Where they discovered? Does he manage to go back and get them on the roadtrip? Do they visit his homes on the trip?

How does the group react to his sudden change when they're leaving? What kind of clothes does he make? Does he ever make some for the others? Does he enjoy it, or is it just because it's necessary?

How do the fishermen feel about the close call with the trident, and what happens to the weapon?

------------

Tip Of the Iceberg:

I don't remember if this was mentioned before, but was it Karl's watch that caused the issue then? Who wrote the book? Does the egg have a connection with them?

How do they fare with their plans to take down the Egg(and potentially the Eggpire, if that's a thing here)? How do those with previous experience with Egg feel about this, and what part do they play?

--------

Fluff! At long last!

I love how their thought process went to that. 'We can make water resistance potions, lets jump in a lake in front of our friends'.

That sounds like it should be entertaining.

Ranbob knows how to farm?

That's such a funny mental image. 'Ran, get out of the tree, you have to socialize'. 'Hissing'.

Yay, good for him!

Ooo, what?

Always.

[abyssal-memories-and-dreams]

Hi sorry to bother you but can you do the same oneshot that I have requested for leona but this time is jack howl pls and don't forget that the reader has the same personality, background and the role of mc pls.

Hi, Luv! Thank you so much for the request! I hope you enjoy!

Without further ado...

Jack Howl x Fem! Shy! Reader

~The Wolf in Hero’s Clothing~

“Oi, pipsqueak!” 

A group of boys cornered you at the bottom of one of Night Raven’s many staircases as you backed up against the iron railing as much as you could. Your first thought was to run back upstairs to Professor Trein’s classroom for sanctuary but realized that a couple of them had already blocked your way to exit through there. So much for trying to catch up on your studies, you guessed. With not much to do, your mind started to wander to get yourself away from the stress, wondering one question to yourself.

How did it come to this?

Well, the answer simplifies in the fact that you were not supposed to attend Night Raven College at all. Not that you really could as someone who could not control any magic. And yet Headmaster Crowley saw potential in you - that you held a special knack for teamwork with your newfound companion, Grim. But even so, there was nothing outgoing about you.

Back in your world, you were never the best at socializing with others. You always kept to yourself, and would often do double the amount of work in school just to keep up with your classes. No one really saw the need to talk to you either, so for the most part, you were just left alone. Whether or not this was bad or not, you really couldn’t tell, but nonetheless grew anxious the more you felt like you had to talk to people other than your family.

So when you suddenly woke up in the middle of the night inside of a coffin, your heart sank as you feared for your life whilst being chased by your now furry familiar. When all was set and done, though, not much had changed in how you interacted with others. Yes, you had Ace Trapolla and Deuce Spade from Heartslabyul, but you still had your moments where you felt too intimidated to approach them. Combining them with Grim’s arrogant persona, and you often found yourself reclusing back to your own dorm to escape the chaos.

Of course, it was never going to be that easy while residing in this academy. Being the sole female student in this school, you often got stares by some of the other boys in the hallways. It was almost comedic, if not a little weird at seeing their expressions, almost as if they had never seen a woman in their entire life. Some of them tried to even approach you - there was that the dorm leader of Scarabia mustered up some small talk on the spot, but his vice leader was able to pull him off to his next class before he got too close to your liking. It wasn’t uncomfortable, just a little awkward for you. In fact, most of whoever you did interact with was on a neutral footing. Either that or they just ignored you, simple as that.

However... that did not stop a certain group of classmates from making you feel repulsed.

These guys didn’t do so much as stare at you as they did stare you down. No matter where you went, you could feel piercing eyes stare at you like a predator stares at its prey. You could see from the bands on their arms that a lot of them came from Savanaclaw - the dorm built on their students’ pride. You posed no threat to them, but they still looked down upon you like a helpless little herbivore. You realized pretty quickly that they were itching for your reaction, desperate to watch you cower underneath them.

So what was your solution? Evasion and hiding. Yes, you realized that this probably wasn’t the best plan, but it was one that worked best for you. For a while, you sought to run away from them as urgently as possible. You rushed between hallways to avoid social interaction and get to your classes quicker. You sat as close to the dining hall’s door to rush through your meal and hide in your next classroom. You sometimes took the long way back to your dorm by learning about the school’s layout and planning your route from there. And sometimes, you even hid in the library when you suspected something amiss, then awaited until nightfall for you to return to your room unscathed.

These habits soon controlled your life to an unhealthy degree. Sometimes, your familiar Grim would try to pry answers from you when you got back home, but you just shrugged it off and moved on with the conversation. After all... what could you do? Your existence in this world rendered as much as a fly avoiding the next frog or venus flytrap it flew across.

Unfortunately for you, the day you decided to stay after class for an extra study session was the exact same day one of those predators found you.

“Hey, Herbivore!” Another one of the students from Savanaclaw yelled at you, snapping out of your daze. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? How does it feel knowing that someone weak like you has managed to survive this long?”

Your voice gets caught up in your throat, forcing you to only gulp as your heart beats faster, pounding in your eardrums. You could feel your palms start to sweat as your hand grew clammy on the stair railing. Was this it, you wondered? Was this the fear that they wanted to get from you? Either way, it was working.

“Hey, we’re talking to you!”

You yelped as another one gripped the back of your blazer and dragged you from the stair railing to the floor. All of them laughed as they watched you trip over your feet and fall to your knees, your petrified eyes gazing up at them as if it’s the last thing they’ll be able to see.

“Please...” You muttered under your breath.

“Huh? Please what?” Another guy chimed in, smirking. “Don’t think that timid act of yours is gonna save you, herbivore. C’mon, why not entertain us for a moment? Fight back, use your words...” He chuckled, his words of ‘encouragement’ leaning more on cynicism. Every word he spoke left a tinge of bile in your mouth as your felt ashamed for letting these guys get under your skin so easily.

Of course, you said nothing - you couldn’t say anything. Your heart was beating at the speed of light, your voice hitching up an octave to the point of inaudibility the more you whimpered, your tear ducts on the verge of explosion from the sheer fear you were feeling. None of it could’ve helped you as you saw the same boy’s condescending smile turn into a demeaning scowl like he was disappointed you didn’t snap back at him - that you didn’t entertain him.

��Tch... worthless!”

As soon as he said that, he rose his fist in the air only to swing back down at you. You shut your eyes tight and tried your best to cover them with your wrist, but you knew that could only work so well in this predicament. Was this it? Was this going to be your demise? Were you going to the infirmary later with a severe concussion as you barely recalled the same boys that accosted you, rooting each other on with cheers of encouragement?

And yet... you didn’t feel anything.

You didn’t hear anything beyond your heartbeat.

The same voices seemed to deafen in a matter of seconds. You keep your eyes shut, confused. Did you lose consciousness already?

No. You could still hear your heartbeat. You could still feel your palms layered with a sheen of sweat. And for a moment in time, you could feel a single teardrop escape from the corner of your eye and fall down your cheek.

You slowly opened your eyes, wondering what in the world happened. Suddenly, all the boys surrounding you were all on the floor, either groaning in excruciating pain or knocked out cold. Your gaze wandered from boy to boy, letting out a sigh of relief that you were ok for now.

“Hey.”

You jerked your head around to the source of the voice behind you, your heart starting to beat faster again. Behind you was another guy, larger than any of the upperclassmen that harassed you before. His skin was a light tan that contrasted with his piercing golden eyes and white hair. What stood him out from the rest were his wolf-like ears that perched on the top of his head, the hair fusing from an ivory white to a dark grey at the tips. Behind him, he had a tail of similar characteristics that sprouted out of the back of his uniform.

The boy held his arm out for you to grab and get you back onto your feet. However, you froze in fear upon closer inspection at the band on his sleeve, only to scurry away from him the more he reached out to you.

Another student from Savanaclaw. Just like those boys before

He took a step back, confused as to why you flinched away from him. However, upon seeing the fear on your face, he took a deep breath as if he figured it out, averting your gaze to contemplate what to do next. Finally, he took another step back before kneeling to your eye level, relaxing his posture before asking in the most gentle voice he could muster.

“... Are you alright? Don’t worry, I don’t wanna hurt you.”

(A/N: I would like to thank you guys again for these requests! These are a lot of fun to make! Just to let you guys know, I am just about this close to opening requests again. When that happens, feel free to offer some suggestions! I want to try writing more for different fandoms, so if you have a suggestion, let me know!!! 

With All Appreciation,

Echo)

[girlhomosonly]

Nobody’s Fault But Mine [ Original!Percival Graves one-shot ]

I had originally written this back four years ago when the FBAWTFT fandom was in full swing. This one, however, is a rewritten version that was published on a few other sites four months ago. I decided to post it here.

So, with that said. This is the rewritten version of “Nobody’s Fault But Mine” the last moments of Percival Graves.

The room was dark, lacking any source of natural light. Only a dim light was hanging from the ceiling. The prisoner was chained to the wall and was locked in a magic-built cage. The cage itself was not made with typical metal rods but invisible rods that taunted the man. If he somehow escaped his chains, he would not have been able to escape regardless. The magic was specifically constructed to keep him in. One touch could be fatal to his already fragile state.

 It felt like forever ago since he last felt the warmth of the sun. The room itself was damp and cold, his clothes of what was left did not help retain any heat. He wishes he did not take the simple pleasures in life for granted. Percival dearly missed the feeling of the sun enveloping him that almost felt like a loving embrace.

 Percival does not know how long he was imprisoned by the Dark Lord but it truly felt like an eternity.

 The night he was bested by that bastard keeps replaying in his mind. He wishes he can go back to that night. Word got around saying that Gellert Grindelwald was on the prowl and what did the Director of Magical Security, head of MACUSA's Department of Magical Law Enforcement do? He simply walked back home after a long shift at the office with his Elite Aurors. He did not think much of anything out of the ordinary - his home had protective wards after all. Yet, the cunning bastard must have been watching him for months, dare he say years? He was caught off guard and woke up to see a pair of mismatched eyes staring him down.

 Percival thinks of the different ways he should have defended himself. He can say with confidence though, he put up a good fight against the bastard. Until he was shot with an intense cursed spell that should have cost Percival his arm.

 Alas, no matter how he should have gone about the intrusion, he is still here. In this cold, damp room. Where he slumps against the wall, farthest from where Grindelwald would be outside the cage.

 With a wheezy sigh, Percival slumped even more and he decided to just lay down. He winced as his body's wounds and infections screamed in protest at the movement. His eyelids grew heavier, and since there was nothing else to do besides sleep, wait for the Dark Lord to arrive to feed and water him.

 He had been losing hope of getting rescued anyways...

 What?

 Lost hope?

 Percival, if he had the energy, would have cursed himself. His father up above would surely get his wand in a knot if he found out his son was thinking like this. That thought alone made the corner of his lip twitch up in an attempt of a smile.

 Graves worked with wizards and witches that trained and studied vigorously to become Aurors. He personally trained most of the ones on his Elite team back in the day. He was known to be one of the greatest Aurors, incredibly skilled with an honourable sense of justice. His team respected him, as well as his long-time dear friend and boss Madame President.

 Considering they were up against a madman, he understood that his people would need time to figure out the Grindelwald imposter.

 Surely, Miss Porpentina Goldstein unravelled this dilemma. She was headstrong and a valiant Auror. There was no doubt she would have suspected something out of the ordinary by now.

 The young woman reminded him so much of himself. The main focal point of taking Goldstein under his wing. At the beginning of her training days, she already had a strong desire to stand up for what is right, sought justice with her people, her community just like he had. Percival knew she would one day be an excellent addition to his team, not to say he already saw a huge amount of potential in her. Which is why he pushed her harder than anyone else. He is certain Goldstein will surpass him and succeed in this career far more than he could.

 Restoring his dwindling faith, his eyes finally shut and he fell into a dreamless slumber.

 Days passed him by.

 And he wondered why Grindelwald did not show.

 Eventually, he stopped feeling the hunger pangs. However, every movement jostled Percival's already disgruntled body, driving needles and pins throughout his body, his back, his skull... everywhere. It even felt like his bones were aching.

 Wallowing in his seemingly never-ending pain, he did not hear shuffling in the darker part of the room. It was only when a sound coming from the cage did the man put his guards up. The sudden sound of the invisible cage zapping something. There were no sounds of distress or pain following.

 "W-Why did you lie to me?" The voice was soft yet held betrayal and hurt within its tone.

 Turning his head to the source, he instantly froze.

 Credence.

 Struggling to get up, he saw the same pale young boy but this time there was black smoke surrounding him, flecks that strayed too far from the boy descended to the floor. His eyes were white, dark circles hung below his more sculpted face.

 The boy's voice cracked. "You hurt me. They are gone because of me." 

 "I know, my boy. I know. I apologize, I-I promised to teach you." Percival's words were hushed, having needed more energy to speak. His face scrunched up, tears stinging at his eyes.

 Was it his time already? He has never had hallucinations before.

 "You are a coward. Who is weak and useless." Credence hissed venomously.

 "I failed you-"

 "You promised me, Mr. Graves!" roared Credence.

 Percival shut his eyes tightly, emotional and physical pain washing over him, overwhelming him. He uttered to himself, apologizing for being such an incompetent wizard, for letting this young boy down...

 He did not know when the hallucination of Credence subsided but the words still echoed through his mind.

 Coward.

 Weak.

 Useless.

 Was he truly what Credence said? Possibly. He would not be here if he wasn't. However, the words cut harder than he thought. He wondered what his Aurors would think of him when he was found.

 Would he ever be trusted again to be their Director?

 Madam President Seraphina, one of his oldest and dearest friends. She must be so disappointed. His underling, Tina Goldstein must be mortified with the fact the "greatest" wizard in her department was so easily defeated. Credence must have been so hurt when Percival stopped showing up on Tina's behalf.

 His pain was steadily going away.

 It brought him some comfort, he will only be dealing with his emotional turmoil.

 Or...

 Nothing at all...

 He realized he found it difficult to keep himself conscious.

 "I suppose... no... Nobody's fault. Bu- but mmm...ine."

 And just as Percival Graves exhaled his last breath, a loud rumbling noise and lights came flooding into the room. Voices of people talking in ushered tones as magic spelled around him...

 Rescuers.