#crazy fanfiction ideas

[megamagica1234]

So, i find myself fanficly conflicted

On FFN i received a guest review asking about one of two fanfics i took down. Both relating to wicked

There was a trend in the 2010s, not sure if its gone away or not, that was interview with the characters fics. Mine was cartoony, honestly kinda cringey, mixed with “well i was definitely young and on the fun puberty hormones writing some of this”

I took it down when i took down my other wicked fic. Because some of the references i made tied into it. I still have them both, backed up to the same word doc.

The proper fic i kinda dropped off of, and looking at it one day realized i kinda lost the plot for and whereever the plot was going it most certainly wasnt in a direction i would go now. Helps that im not entirely sure what direction i was actually going with it either. Hadnt adopted my, start with an ending, write the beginning, everything else is plot based filler method.

And when i say lost the plot, was reading through it again and basically *john travolta pulp fiction meme here*

Now i have always intended to rewrite the proper fic but im in two minds about what to do with the interview fic. Part of me wants to start it back up again, basically reboot it, like chapter one could be introduction and the entire original interview fic basically replayed as an introduction. Would basically make the first chapter, i think 10k words from the word go

Another part of me wants to reboot it the same way but make it a crossover with my current fic series. As ive dubbed it, legends of oz: the chaos saga. Like ive got the opening in mind that works for both, doing a bit of a comedic retro thing.

Write two sets of characters, have more fun with it just because the worlds of wicked and legends of oz Dorothy’s return are vastly different. Could be a nice compare and contrast to write the separate version of each characters mindsets. Plus one or more ocs to throw the occasional spanner in the works.

As im writing this, ive come up with an interesting third option, do both, reboot it like a seasonal show. Season one, the wicked character interview reboot, season two the crossover



[justaz]

arthur becoming king and showering merlin in gifts to the point where it looks like hes a nobleman. camelot going yup thats the kings consort, i think we’re two months away from a royal wedding. visiting nobles/royals who have no idea about “merlin and arthur” treating merlin like a nobleman until he corrects them. visiting nobles/royals who DO know about “merlin and arthur” not being surprised in the slightest. merlin getting away with everything and blatantly stealing from the kings plate during a feast and they’re all just like “yeah alright” idk just merlin being spoiled by his bf who isn’t his bf but who desperately wants to be

[iamaslutforjatp]

So, it's been exactly two weeks since this Stetopher fic idea was born. (See this thread for background info)

Within those two weeks, I have written 69k words in my brainstorming document (AKA the 'brain dump' where everything starts before I tidy it up into finalised notes elsewhere, separated into character, plot, outline, etc.).

I repeat, I wrote 69,000 fucking words. In two weeks.

(I had to repeat it, because I still can't quite believe it)

I've broken all my own personal writing records.

I've realised this fic is going to be at least 150k words, possibly 200k.

I've split the fic into 5 Acts, covering over one and a half years [there are cliffhangers between Acts that are already planned and that have me wanting to cackle like an evil villain].

I'm essentially rewriting seasons 1-3A adjusted for several key 'what if' changes pre-canon and exploring the domino effect of how things continue to change from there.

I've currently got a 3-page-long detailed and colour-coded timeline of events that happen in the fic, which is growing every day as I figure out where things fit (which included printing out monthly calendars for the relevant years and using 4 different websites to reference when the actual full moons were for each year).

I spent hours on university websites and several other resources figuring out what programs different characters might take, what courses they might take, what their schedule might look like, what are the start and end dates of semesters, etc.

I spent even more hours with several google maps tabs, wikipedia pages, geographical maps, and fandom wikis open to figure out where the fuck Beacon Hills might possibly be located and figuring out the distance from this fictional location to several real ones.

Do you have any idea how long I've spent doing math? MATH?! I hate math! I thought I was going to drive myself insane trying to figure out ages and timelines and dates and ughhhh. Just. No more math please? I beg.

If you've made it this far down (wow, thank you), here are some things you can look forward to in this fic, in no particular order:

Unresolved pre-fire Petopher drama

Stetopher endgame, obviously

Allison & Stiles friendship

Boyd & Erica live

Pack bonding

Stiles yelling at Derek about how to be a good fucking alpha

Chaotic pack board game night (that may or may not involve Chris tackling Peter over the game board)

Stiles already knowing he is a Spark, his mother having taught him about magic when he was growing up

Domestic fluff

Stiles unknowingly driving Chris and Peter crazy with his lack of boundaries, oversharing, and oral fixation

Slow burn

Stiles getting to study magic at university

Stetopher nerding out over research together

Stiles somehow having keys to everyone's places (Peter has no idea how Stiles even found out where he lives)

Christmas pack fluff

Several key alterations to the Argent background, including Kate & Gerard being arrested & sentenced to jail after the fire, Chris divorcing Victoria, and Allison finding out about the supernatural a few years early. (Stiles may or may not have had something to do with at least one of those things)

[mechazushi]

The thief better get this guard pregnant before I do.

[imsilay]

you wanted to the trend where people taped their phones onto the ceiling of their beds and recorded themselves sleeping. it was cute, most of them were couples but you had your cat so you thought it’d be cute.

but nothing could prepare you for what you’d see in the video next day.

LETS WRITE THIS STORY TOGETHER I WANNA SEE EVERYONES THOUGHTS!!!!

you can add anyone (König, Simon, Price etc.), reblog and write the rest or give me some ideas to help me write it myself :)

[nevertheless-moving]

CHAPTER ELEVEN

THE DEMON OF YUNMENG

Chapter One/ AU Masterlist — Chapter Ten

Holy FUCK my pants are disgusting. 

It was an unpleasant thought to wake up to. But it was an even more unpleasant sensation.

Setting that aside for the time being, Wei Wuxian forced himself to his hands and knees, arching outward and inward to crack his back into something resembling normal shape. A vision assaulted him — Lan Zhan returning to the tent and catching him in this position. He had to stuff a fist into his mouth to hold back laughter at the following mental image of Hunguang-Jun mounting a clothed man and humping him like a beast until completion. 

Holy shit, he actually would, wouldn’t he? He would for sure be into that.

Wei Wuxian shook his head, refocusing. After a few more stretches, he began the painstaking process of peeling off his pants, wincing where it pulled at sensitive skin and hair. He did his best to scrape himself clean, but fucking hell he needed to bathe. Somewhere that Lan Zhan wouldn’t be tempted to look at his dick and inadvertently learn a secret that would require the Demon of Yunmeng to murder the Lightbearing Lord, something said demon really, really didn’t want to do. 

Ha! Even if I go off on his own, can I trust that Lan Zhan won’t follow to sneak a peek? 

The Honored Second Jade of Lan. Unable to resist peeping. He bit back another round of hysterical giggles. 

He hesitated getting dressed; Lan Zhan's pants looked like a decent enough fit — any minor extra length wouldn’t matter once he had boots on. But dried come was literally flaking off him. Not to mention the sweat. Reluctantly, he searched for one of his soiled pants from last night — just something to get him to the nearest stream. To his confusion, he couldn’t find any of his dirty clothing, just the clean Quinquin pouch. 

Annoyed, he pulled on his second to last clean pants and underrobe — way too nice for his current state and location.

“Oi, Lan Zhan!” he said, clamoring out of the tent. “Did you steal my underwear?”

Lan Wangji was pointedly silent.

It took him a moment longer than it should have to realize that the silence was actually not pointed; Lan Zhan simply wasn’t there.

He looked around more thoroughly, discovering that not only was Lan Zhan gone, but also his tent was missing, so that was a little disturbing. But he figured that Lan Zhan must have stolen it alongside his clothing for some currently inscrutable reason.

There was a bowl with a plate over it, resting on a suspiciously flat tree stump which he was fairly sure hadn’t been there yesterday. Lifting the plate revealed a steaming portion of brilliant red congee, along with what looked like two pheasant’s eggs poached on top. 

“What the fuck,” Wei Wuxian said outloud. Again, no one answered, but he did notice a note tucked into a crack in the wood, which he pulled out eagerly.

“River two Li Northeast.”

Wei Wuxian sank to the ground, resting on his heels and pressing the note to his forehead. He tried to imagine Lan Zhan’s line of thought. Did he consider writing something like “I made breakfast,” before discarding it as a waste of words? Or did communicating so frivolously sincerely never even cross his mind? Obviously, Lan Zhan had made spicy congee. And hunted down an egg and delicately cooked it. Who else would have done such a thing?

Quickly, he checked to make sure he hadn’t woken in an elaborate illusory trap.

Nope. 

Lifting the bowl revealed a warming talisman, which he had expected — what he hadn’t expected was for it to be one of his designs. Jiang Cheng had complained that his book of slightly more academic than practical talisman adjustments had barely sold enough copies to be worth the hassle of distribution, but he had also complained about him publishing too much on gui, so. 

He supposed he knew that Gusu Lan had always diligently purchased copies of his cultivation treatises, if only to decry them as heresy from an informed high horse before ritually burning them or whatever they did with such things. He hadn’t thought that Lan Zhan was particularly interested in talismanic arts, but he was a distinguished young master with a properly well rounded education.

Still, it was a little flattering. Really, the spellwork was objectively not worth the time it took to draw, but the food maintained significantly better texture than “standard” warming charms. 

Lacking any better plans, Wei Wuxian ate breakfast. It was pretty good. Not quite spicy enough, but very close. 

Since Lan Zhan hadn’t returned by the time he finished, he made his way to the river, opting to leave everything in the tent as it was because if the river had another under-informative note beside it he was going the fuck back to sleep.

When he finally found Lan Zhan, the man was meditating by the water’s edge, which was normal enough. What was strange was the washboard beside him and the  fabric strung delicately from lines that Lan Zhan must have been carrying around with him. 

No, wait, the lengths of cord aren’t strange — who the fuck carries a washboard around? Aren’t Lan robes spelled to look like that?

“You didn’t actually have to clean my underwear,” Wei Wuxian said, approaching.

“Taking responsibility,” Lan Zhan said, opening his eyes.

Wei Wuxian snorted. “If you say so.”

Lan Wangji rose, frowning at Wei Wuxian’s legs. “Will fetch this morning’s clothing.”

“Lan Zhan you don’t have to —” But he was already moving. Wei Wuxian just barely managed to grab his arm as he passed. “Lan Zhan.”

Lan Wangji stopped, looking at him. This close, the small height difference between them was a bit more noticeable, if only because Wei Wuxain was fairly unused to tilting his head back to talk with anybody.

“Ah —” he said, briefly distracted, before marshaling his exasperation. “If this is because of, you know, the stuff we did — you really don’t have to. Very willing participant and all that.”

Lan Zhan nodded solemnly.

“Washing my clothes isn’t actually your responsibility. That was a joke.”

“Mn.” 

Wei Wuxian let go, and Lan Zhan continued the way he was walking.

“I —” Wei Wuxian grabbed Lan Zhan again, opened his mouth, then gave up; his dick was too itchy for this conversation. Maybe he likes cleaning? And… stealing bird’s eggs? “Fine, whatever, I’m going to go wash, I've got come practically glueing my legs together — you’re, uh, staying in this section of river, right?”

“Mn.”

He hesitated, but felt the need to ask again. “...You’re sure? No wandering up or downstream from here?”

Lan Wangji lowered his head.

“I mean if you say you won’t, I believe you, of course, just…” he trailed off weakly. 

“Will not dishonor Wei Ying,” Lan Wangji swore, looking up with golden eyes that were WAY too intense considering the frivolity of the subject matter. Unfortunately, that actually was the level of intensity he needed Lan Zhan to bring to the table on this particular promise.

“Right.” Wei Wuxian cleared his throat. Lan Zhan’s face was very close.

Very close.

//

 “I really need to bathe,” Wei Wuxian insisted hoarsely, pulling back from Lan Zhan’s mouth.

Lan Zhan’s throat bobbed as he nodded. His fingers released all at once from Wei Wuxian’s ass, then he disappeared back towards camp in a swirl of white.

Wei Wuxian pressed a hand to his face, allowing himself twenty seconds to just stand there breathing heavily before pushing his way downstream. 

Alright, Lan Zhan has to be the one who’s unusual here, not me, he thought mournfully. He came twice last night and once this morning, same as me! How is he hard again? I mean, I’m not not impressed but seriously! Chafing!

Mind gradually warming up to the day, he resolved not to spend overlong mulling over the cutsleeve stuff between him and Lan Zhan. Based on how the last few days had gone, there were even odds everything would dramatically change between them again by tomorrow morning. In any case, he had bigger things to worry about  — namely the trial that had started all this.

Even with an increasingly credible and scandalously appealing alternate story, there were a hundred different ways it still might come to a fight. And he wouldn’t ask Jiang Cheng to spend sect lives and honor defending him.

It was entirely possible that they were approaching the point where Jin sect would give up on subtlety in their quest to seize the Yin Tiger Tally; they might already be there, if it turned out this whole “conference” was just a trap to lure him into prepared killing grounds.

Unless he chose to run and leave behind this mess entirely — something he couldn’t quite bring himself to do while there was still a slim chance of returning home — he was walking into that tower. Into terrain that the Jin would have ample time to prepare against him.

He whistled idly — a few lost spirits perked up in the distance, but nothing strong enough to be worth the effort of hunting down and trapping. What he really needed was a proper unsanctified mass grave, or a powerful ghoul. 

Ooh, maybe if I finish that tracking tool? Where was I with that? Oh yeah, multiple sensitivities… okay, if i give up on distinguishing between types of resentful energy and just amplify power…

By the time he made it back to camp, he was so lost in his thoughts that he barely greeted Lan Zhan, opting instead to immediately spread out paper on the conveniently flat stump, frantically trying to get his thoughts down before he lost their pattern. He definitely meant to say something to him at some point, but then he had an idea for amplification riding off the connection between iron and dragon lines…

It wasn’t until he finished charming a shaved iron needle floating in a cup of tea that he realized he had no idea where the tea had come from.

Blinking, he looked around. Another crude yet level table had appeared to his right, already covered with paper. Damn, Did I miss Lan Zhan chopping down a tree? Again? He looked around. More tables. Ok, not all stumps — I missed Lan Zhan chopping up a tree. Maybe two. And also carrying the pieces around.

What the actual fuck, he thought, flummoxed. 

Sure, he had gotten into this sort of flow before, but to where he completely ignored his surroundings? Only behind a dozen layers of wards — an actual mo could have walked right up to him and cut his head off for all the attention he had been paying.

He stood, popping his fingers and cracking his back. Lan Zhan wasn’t far, seated on the ground a short walk away. He was doing something with his hands. Grinding ink. 

Wei Wuxian didn’t remember pausing to grind ink. Despite having clearly been writing for hours. And his fingers weren’t peeled open. So he obviously hadn’t absentmindedly started using blood.

His heart did something funny. 

Lan Zhan looked up.

“...I’m finished,” Wei Wuxian said, not sure where to begin with the tea and the tables and the ink  and the pants and the egg. “At least for now. I’ll need to pick up some decent copper for a casing. I guess I could use wood, but it wouldn’t maintain… anyway.”

“Mn.” Lan Zhan put down the inkstone. His fingers were stained black. Wei Wuxian looked down — his own hands were a lot worse, though the black of his robe did a lot to hide mess beyond that.

If we started making out right now it would be incredibly obvious where we grabbed each other, he thought.

“If we started making out right now it would be incredibly obvious where we grabbed each other,” he said.

The whites of Lan Wangji’s eyes ran red even as gold was edged out by black. 

“Wait, you can hold me up with no effort?” Wei Wuxian asked a minute or so later, heels wrapped around Lan Zhan’s back, Lan Zhan’s hands forming a seat with no apparent strain, and apparently enough extra energy to do a fair amount of pinching. 

“Mn,” Lan Wangji confirmed, switching to one hand to show off, which incidentally settled more of Wei Wuxian’s weight onto a few spread out points across his ass.

“Ngh,” Wei Wuxian said, as Lan Zhan used his now free hand to work at a somewhat tangled red hair ribbon. “Wait, I had a point — so tha — aa — at means you didn’t even nEED to pin me against things! You just did it because you wanted to!” 

“Frees my hands,” Lan Zhan argued reasonably.

“Yeah but think about it —” Wei Wuxian said, as Lan Zhan walked them towards the tent. “You didn’t even have to wait until I was up in that tree to tackle me, back at the hunt! You could have just grabbed me and held me up in the air like this.”

Lan Zhan froze. “Shameless!” he hissed through clenched teeth. Down below his cock jumped, nudging at Wei Wuxian’s ass somewhat left of center.

Wei Wuxian cackled. “Oh man! Does that always happen when you call me shameless?! If I had sat in your lap back when I was studying at cloud recesses would we have figured this out a lot sooner?”

Lan Zhan finished pulling the ribbon free, and Wei Wuxian felt his hair fall down on his shoulders.

“Not…always.” 

Wei Wuxian cackled some more.

Did Lan Zhan’s eyes soften? Wait, was that an honest, intentional joke?

“I knew you were funny,” Wei Wuxian crowed, delighted.

//

Yunmeng Zhi Mo sat leaning against a tree, watching with amusement as Hunguang-Jun methodically worked mostly white pants along a washboard. 

“You know you really don’t have to do that.”

“Mn.”

“I mean we’re even on orgasms, aren’t we? I feel like things are pretty fair, as far as that’s concerned.”

“Mn.”

“Lan Zhan, I’m serious,” he said, exasperated. “Grinding my ink — cleaning my clothing— you’ve been acting super weird since we started, you know. Why are you doing all this stuff for me?”

Lan Zhan dunked the cloth in the water. “Want to,” he finally said, not turning around. The back of his ears were pink.

Wei Wuxian sighed heavily, rolling his eyes.

I guess this is what happens when someone that repressed gets to start having orgasms, he thought ruefully. He’ll get over it once the novelty wears off. Probably. 

“Oh!” he said, snapping his fingers. “Did you pack my tent?”

“Mn.”

“Why?”

“...Wanted to be ready to travel.”

“Okay…” he said slowly, eyeing the clothing on the line.

“Dried it first,” Lan Zhan added, misreading the look.

Wei Wuxian blinked. “Dried? What, you actually wasted spiritual energy on that?”

“Not waste. Prevents mold.”

“I —” Wei Wuxian laughed. “Alright, thanks I guess?”

“No need.”

“But you strung up clotheslines for our pants, because…”

“More delicate fabric.”

“Right, sure, but why — you know, whatever, it doesn't matter. How do you feel about detouring a bit towards Chang'an? One of the trade towns that direction should have some decent metals.”

“...Not the way to Carp Tower.”

“How long would it take you to fly us to Lanling, if you went fast? At most it would be a few hours from here, right?”

“Mn.”

“So why bother rushing! Worse comes to worse, we can leave the night before. I don’t want to stay in that snakepit any longer than I have to, and I strongly suspect the feeling is mutual."

Wei Wuxian paused, grimacing at the idea of actually showing up early for this thing.

"I’m not saying we shouldn’t generally move that direction," he added quickly. "To be on the safe side, and its probably not a great idea for us to be spotted flying all over the place together — I think the element of surprise will work best to avoid giving the Jin too much time to prepare —  but, anyway, my point is — wouldn’t you rather spend the next couple weeks enjoying ourselves while we prepare for the shitshow?”

Lan Zhan glanced back, eyes raking up and down Wei Wuxian’s body.

“...Mn.”

Prev (Chapter Ten) MDZS AU Masterlist Next (Chapter 12)

[blackholesun321]

Hey guys did I hallucinate this but does anyone remember that arcane fic way back like two years ago I forget the name— that got really popular and it was about Jayce going to prison after his trial and meeting Vi in prison and Viktor I think used Jayce notes and created Hex-tech, and Viktor took Jayce’s place in piltover? Which like amazing plot seriously sounds really interesting accept it was called racist and basically just made Jayce a violent man of color? And there was like a lot of controversy over it? And also with all the interesting ways that au could have gone it basically played out as a one to one of canon in piltover I think but with just Viktor?

I think it was on wattpad didn’t read it, so I have no idea if any of these accusations are true maybe a little probably not as bad as stated but like I do remember it being a thing in the fandom? Im not making this up I think?

[cartoon-buffoon]

Short fanfic that I randomly made when being bored outta my mind during classes:

"ROUND 2"

Featuring: Monster Frankie & The Lucky Contestant!

Lucky burst through the doors out of one of the play areas into the maintenance tunnels used by staff. Despite currently being winded from parkour, this season was off to a great start. Unlike last time where they were chased at every opportunity by mascots, their only respite being puzzles which they would have to exercise their authentic skills to use, Lucky had ran into no such obstacles. The starting line was an honest to God starting line that all four contestants used, Lucky actually competed with three others this time around rather than being a sole survivor. Well, they competed at first.

For some reason the further they got the more strange occurrences occured. Certain puzzles were already finished, vent openings were busted open and some parkour challenges like the rotating logs were turned off and stagnant. Now this could have been all dismissed as a simple case of the other Frankie forgetting to reset everything but Lucky couldn't help but shake the feeling something sinister was afoot. One by one each of the other contestants vanished, at first it was contestant 2 who they assumed just wondered off but after contestant 1 went missing it became clear something wasn't right. Lucky and contestant number 4 continued to run side by side by each other but not to long ago in a section where they had to crawl through the vents did Lucky find themselves all alone. Just like the previous season they were now running along, by themselves with their only company being the occasional directions from Frankie over the intercom. Of course any questions asked to the rabbit would be simply dismiss so they didn't even bother. Instead they carried on, running just for the sake of the game.

"Long time no see"

Lucky stopped running, a voice oddly familiar interrupting their train of thought. They couldn't make out who was speaking but the voice came from all the way down the hall. With both the mask obstructing their vision, and the general darkness of the area they could barely make out a vague silhouette, no bigger than three foot.

"Who's there?" Lucky asked, their voice reverberating off the walls.

"Aww come on, don'tcha recognize lil ol' me?"

Lucky could finally see who was talking, their body coming partially into view. They could only see the red shoes and floppy ears that protruded from the shadows but it was more than enough to deduce who it was. It was Frankie—but not the one watching the cameras. The voice was all different and while the other Frankie was small in comparison to the monster this one was small. By what they could see, it was a version of the rabbit similar in appearance to the proper mascot of the place.

"uhh.." Lucky struggled for words "I mean... you're a Frankie? Not one I've met yet at least..."

"Oh you've met me alright, I think we're all too acquainted if you ask me!" The rabbit spat.

The words were spoken with such harshness that Lucky was taken aback. So far his tone seemed eerie but held a sort of warmness but it was clear whoever this Frankie was he was no friend. Lucky pondered who on earth this rabbit could be, was this the obstacle the other Frankie said? After Henry's head popped and the killer was incinerated they needed something to make the game interesting once again. Lucky thought nothing of it, after all what could be worse than being chased by a 10 feet tall killer rabbit? Whatever the new obstacle would be would be a major upgrade in safety and easier to manage.

At least that's what they thought.

The Frankie had stepped into the light showing himself proper and it suddenly made so much sense all of a sudden. With a crazed smile and coated in blood ear to shoe they stood, glaring at Lucky with nothing but contempt. Red shoes and gloves held a much darker hue than what they should have been, grey fur was frizzled and messed, even the black top-hat they wore looked like it was partially torn from a struggle that had happened. The most striking part of this Frankie was his eyes, they glowed a bright red and held the fury of somebody craving vengeance. The fury of somebody who had lost at their own game. The fury of somebody who was burnt to a crisp and came back with even more murderous intent than the first time.

"Those other three put up quite the fight" Frankie said with a chuckle and finger wag "This new body ain't as strong as my old one but it DEFINITELY does its job" Frankie stretched one of their robotic limbs back into the darkness. Like a snakes body it slithered into the black until he found what he was searching for "I understand the issue though, I understand it all! Hehehe"

SPLAT

A line of disembodied heads with their faces covered by rabbit masks were thrown at Lucky's feet. A chain had been plunged right through all three keeping them in a neat row, from the top of the firsts' skull down to the third's neck-hole the bloodied metal made a soft rattle next to the loud splat that the heads made when they were thrown. Even though they were masked Lucky could tell who the heads belonged to, the lifeless eyes that hung open barely visible through the black of the mask's pupils was a perfect match to the previous competitors who went missing suddenly.

"Ya see–they fought! They prolonged it, I didn't WANT to do that to them but they just wouldn't accept it and tried and tried and tried, and tried to fight back all because I'm SMALL!" Frankie grasped at his ears and tugged them down, his words frantic and rushed as he grit his teeth and glared down at the heads "they didn't play the game right! They tried to cheat! DIRTY FUCKING CHEATERS EACH AND EVERYONE OF THEM!" His eyes snapped up to Lucky, their trembling body making him smile "but you? Noooo, you play the game right! That's what I like about you!" Frankie walked forward as one of his arms searched for something else in the darkness "one of my favorite things about you is how you don't try to fight back! You know the rules and your role, I chase, you run, I try to catch, and if I do catch you tyen I get to rip out that heart that should have stopped beating LONG AGO!"

shing

Lucky stepped back, finally seeing what Frankie had grabbed a hold of.

"But it's fine! We can fix that heartbeat of yours" Frankie said as he brandished the bloody steel of an axe. With a smirk on his face he pressed the blade to his face, letting the sharp edge drag against his synthetic skin causing a mysterious black liquid to dribble out "now I think we've talked enough, what say we get started on that rematch that I'm just DYING to have!?"

Lucky took a step backwards, their heat racing in their chest. They couldn't believe it, they didn't want to believe it. After the first time they believed they would never see that Frankie again, well I mean they weren't seeing that Frankie exactly but whatever this was was way worse! Why the hell did he get a new body? Who the hell gave him a body? Lucky didn't know, all that they knew is that their legs were carrying them in the exact opposite direction the second they realized the space between them and Frankie was minimal. They prayed that this new body of his was as slow as the old one although by the murderous chuckle that the rabbit gave it was clear he was more than capable of covering distance. Still, Lucky ran as fast as their legs could take them while Frankie laughed and laughed.

[devine-fem]

"dame" is such a pretty and pristine thing to call someone, that's some shit you'd call your girlfriend… jondami nation capitilize off the fact that not only are they raising a kid but JON CALLS DAMIAN something that means “pretty lady, woman of rank, or WIFE.” please (not in a feminizing way) but domestic way thats like jon’s version of “honey” or “sweetheart.” for him to call damian this only now while they are raising a kid is crazy, DO YOU SEE THE VISION?

explanation

[bleue-flora]

Dream A Little Dream Of Me for wip game :p

So I don’t know if I’ve talked about this one or not, but basically this is the finale for the Sweet Dreams series, where everyone gets caught in Dream’s nightmare. :)

I still haven’t worked out all the details yet but my thoughts at the moment are that XD tries to use Dream’s nightmare that everyone entered to kill members of the server to gain power, so the memories actually have real effects on people like causing literal mirroring wounds.

My original idea was that the people who sympathized with Dream would be able to slip out, so the nightmare would progress to get worse and worse and as it went along different characters would empathize and understand Dream more and be able to escape. Now, I think instead I might do more so that Dream is trying to free people and sneak them out of the dream to save them from XD. The people who wake up then tend to the injured ones asleep to keep them from like bleeding out and such. Maybe even Sam is there identifying what the injury is from to help them address it, which of course upsets people further… so yea I think that’s all I’ll say for now as I don’t want to spoil too much. :) I have considered using Misery Loves An Idiot as a stand in for the different Quackity nightmare scenes so I don’t have to write them but just reference them with maybe the different character’s reactions. But we’ll see…

He laughs and it sounds so bitter it has to taste bad, “Did you enjoy the show? Did you enjoy your front row tickets to my misery? Did you have fun?”

…and yes technically this does mean Quackity would be torturing himself which is funny to think about. The ultimate karma. :]

[justaz]

how many time loop fics are out there?? i need to see merlin get stuck in a loop and eventually just go “fuck it” and mess around. he uses magic openly and spits at uther’s feet and kisses arthur and stages a coup just for the fun of it and sets kilgharrah free to fly around

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Ok, so chapter 19 is over 21k words and I’m not even done with the second pov. Hopefully we’ll have it finished, edited, and up tonight? If not, definitely tomorrow. See you soon!!

[pancake-cat22]

Was just at a hockey game and I have decided that it is very gay. I mean, the players keep grabbing each other and stuff. I mean sure, it’s because they’re slamming each other into walls, but my opinion stands.

Either way, it made me want to write a gay hockey au fanfiction but then I remembered that I don’t know enough about hockey to do that and am too lazy to make research. So, if anyone wants to steal the idea, please do and send me the link. I would be forever grateful. Even better if it were smalletho. Please.

[rockscs]

so i took a look at karl heisenberg and said that he deserves to be a girl dad. except theyre the most dysfunctional family ever.

Anyways, he, while kidnapping people to turn into lycans, stumbles upon a sickly 14-15 year old girl, and while it would never realistically ever happen, decided to do a different experiment. Just like miranda did to him, he decides to attempt to mutate her. Someone else like him would be seriously useful when the time to fight Mom came around, so might as well. She would not be any useful as a lycan in this state, there was nothing to lose with trying.

The girl, in and out of consiousness doesn’t understand jack shit of what’s happening, why are there needles poking her around, why the hell she feels so groggy. She doesn’t get it.

And so while the girl is strapped in a chair to avoid any complications during the process, Karl starts the procedure.

The girl’s eyes burst open, and a groan rips from her throat, she starts trashing as the Cadou starts to settle. But Heisenberg, lacks Miranda’s magic, hes a mere engineer, after all.

The girl screams in agony as her skin lights on fire, starting on her left eye and bubbling the skin around, spreading over half of her face, down her neck over her shoulders. Heisenberg in a panic, sends another vial mixed in the solution pouring into the girl’s arm. She does not stop burning, but her screams die down, and she passes out from exhaustion before she can register that the fire does not burn anymore.

Next time she wakes up with a start sitting up, gasping air, heaving. She leans over to the side, and heaves up her empty stomach, nothing but gastric acid and whatever she managed to scavenge before settling into bed.

She takes in her surroundings, noting the dirty bathtub she sat in, filled in water. She shivered, eyes wide as she started trying to cross her arms over her torso in a weak attempt of either warmth, or self soothing, she couldn’t know. Everything in the room seemed filthy either way.

She fliched as she made contact with something. Herself. She looked down, finally noticing the bandages around her arms, soaked through a mixture of water and blood. Her blood. She gasps, eyes widening as she scrambles up the bathtub splashing all over, whines making their way up her throat as she noticed she cant see out of one eye.

She reaches her hand up touching the bandages that not only covered half of her face, but half of her goddamned head. She cries out, either finally registering the pain she’s still in, or shock at discovering her new self.

She jumped out of the bathtub, falling unto the floor with a wet splat. She stands on shaky legs, shivering at the cold air and adrenaline. A buzz under her skin. She shakes her head, scarred hands grasping at the hair left in her scalp.

The outburst of emotions triggering a burst of fire. A gutteral scream rips from her throat once again, falling to the floor, expecting the never-ending pain from before. She still doesn’t register that it doesn’t hurt until a bucketful of ice cold water falls over her head. killing the flames, and doing a semi-good job at diminishing her distress.

She looks up in shivers and gasps, to see a shabby graying man, smoking a cigar in a heavy brown coat, pendants clinking, hanging from his neck. He looks unbothered as he throws the, now empty, bucket across the room, and takes a deep drag of his cigar, before letting it drop to the floor and stepping on it. She notices it was basically new.

“Oh boy, Oh boy.” He said sarcastically, picking invisible lint from his coat. “If it isnt the girl who lived!”

He knees down in front of her meeting her eye. “You are one resilient kid, let me tell ya’ that.” She looks in shock, still shivering from the cold at the stranger before her.

She watched him extend his hand, and with his other one, tipping the leather hat gracing his head. “The names’ Karl Heisenberg. Welcome to the team, kid.”

She had so many questions, many she was sure had no answer. But while she wasn’t able to find her voice, she reached out, shaking. She couldn’t help but notice how gently the callouses grasped her charred hand.

[youchangedmedestiel]

Had two nightmares in a raw last night, when I got tired of it I thought about Destiel, about a fic I started.

Fighting nightmares, thinking about Destiel. The coping mechanism.

[disgorgedfoetus]

big brother cloud strife 🗣️📢🔊🔊🔊🔊