#fakiru fanfiction

[mightbedragons]

Now, it was said of Gold Crown Town that the fairy who dwelt amidst its charming bridges and sturdy old towers could be seen from time to time.

G, post-canon, 700 words.

For Fakiru Week 2024 | 11 November - Breaking Free

[kris-creations]

Drew some fanart for the Princess Tutu fanfic called “This Pendent Heart”

[therookieking412]

Prosperity, a Retelling of This Arrangemnt, by ALotMoreGinger and TheRookieKing412

Rated: E

Genre: Romance/Drama

Work In Progress

The Prosperity Regulations, as established in 1862 due to the hazardously low birth rates of years prior also known as “The Great Drop”, has celebrated over 150 years of successful Arrangements. The Political unrest caused by dissatisfactory Arrangements shall be handled by the Prosperity Regulations Office. Your Happiness and Satisfaction is guaranteed, and Arrangements are made for the Greater Good. Thank you for your compliance to Prosperity.

Chapters Available:

Prelude, One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty

Update: I just wanted to give you a heads up and let you know this story is going to go on a slight hiatus. I am currently writing my novel. I've defitnaly been writing things outside of my novel, just to take breaks here and there, practice, warm ups and such, so the next chapter will be out sooner than you think. In additiona, this story is only half way down, we have forty chapters planned out so this is only the beginning!

[alotmoreginger]

Prosperity

A very good friend of mine @therookieking412 and I have been working on this fanfiction together, and it’s FINALLY GONNA START COMING OUT!!!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/45645418/chapters/114860812

We hope you enjoy, and thank you for your compliance to Prosperity.

[magic-in-onyx]

I am writing a scene where Fakir is writing atm, and I can't with this fandom (affectionate), because every time I go back to it, all I see are the memes where he could only write "THE" and nothing else for hours.

[fyeahfakiruweek]

Summary: A lost princess discovers a tower deep in the forest- as well as the extraordinary prisoner locked inside, (who does not wish to be discovered.)

[schafpudel]

#where's the essay OP?

It's not the rest of essay but:

In Princess Tutu, a duck is given the ability to attain human form, with the caveat that if she were to "do or say anything resembling a duck," she returns to her duck form. In effect, Duck must perform "girlhood" to Drosselmyer's standards or else have it (temporarily) revoked by the very authority that provides it to her. Knowing Drosselmyer's personality, he likely set the rules for her transformation this way specifically in order to watch her struggle for his own amusement.

In practice, Duck's human form is only revoked when she quacks - flapping her arms and walking funny result in no penalties. The line between acceptable and unacceptable behavior for performing (human) "girlhood" is not clearly stated and fundamentally arbitrary, reflecting the way in which acceptable performance of normativity and gender are unfair and arbitrary. In this essay, I -

[sillyfairygarden]

fic writer interview

tem so lovingly tagged me in this and i am eager to procrastinate... okayyy fic time

How many works do you have on AO3?

12 beautiful sweet angels living on a cloud. cloud is called ao3 island. (yes this number is one higher than you will find on my page...) that number saddens me a bit because if i went through old pseuds/deleted fics, and other platforms it's probably closer to 40! but alas. many such cases of deleting my digital footprint U_U

What's your total AO3 word count?

good god i have 145k words of minecraft fanfiction out there. that is so scary.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

at the invitation of any desire: (this one just kind of. blows my mind away that it's in this position because this fic felt like a fever dream)

the first disciple: this is just. AUUUGHH

but oh, the bloom: my sweet sugarplum daughter with many illnesses

4 and 5 are a faint slash of tenderness and you are here to risk your heart, which makes me so happy to see these sister stories together.

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

stares at the (184) next to my inbox. blinks. well here's the thing. i LOVE the ecosystem of comments on ao3 and i've always been a big believer in comment writing. however 😭 sometimes i don't know what to say! i feel blown away that people take the time to leave such long, detailed comments for some of my works (you know who you are) and those really are long term fuel for my heart.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

of my currently published fics, no number exists for griefs like these. i'm not a common purveyor of the major character death tag, but it was a little fun and silly.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

oh god. i've written a lot of bittersweet endings recently, as i'm going through my own works and going sad--bittersweet--sad--bad--bittersweet as i work my way down the lines so... i suppose the happiest "ending" to a fic would be a single pale rose. where it's really just a story of early beginnings (without an ending of its own stamped on)

Do you write crossovers?

i'll admit. a crossover is a hard-sell for me mostly because i have to feel invested enough in BOTH fields of media to really Get invested. unforties i know like 0.6 media so that's a pretty limited genre for me. i've read a smattering of good crossover fics across my years but i'll tentatively leave that in the hands of writers who have that genre of brainrot.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

when i think of like, old-school style fic trashing, nah not really. i've gotten a handful of oddball comments with varying degrees of dismissal, distaste, or hilarious confusion towards the story over the years, but genuinely they're truly drops in the ocean.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

yes i looooove writing smut and raunchy times. i just think explorations of intimacy and trust and bodies through sex in stories is so cool. vulnerability and shame are these topics i feel endlessly, constantly inspired and impassioned by.

there's this incredibly niche range of erotic and emotionally sensual that i love to read/write within. unforties this means i have to write most of the smut i want to read... SAD!

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

NO....

Have you ever had a fic translated?

my own attempts to poorly practice translations on my own fics have gone. badly. and also no.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

definitely no <3 i've dabbled in the idea but i'm very individualistic and a bit prideful when it comes to autonomy in my work. i don't think co-writing stories is something i enjoy, but i love playing-off other people with ideas, characters, etc.

What's your all-time favorite ship?

okay, backing up from the mcyt bubble (where SORRY none of these ships really hold weight) all time favourite ships of mine are fakiru, chrobin, bubbline, utenthy, catradora, usamamo, many such yuries. if you squint you will see the shadow of these ships in everything i create forever and ever <3

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

oh man. i've posted two of those unfinished fragment-fics (where, they were intended to be much longer but never took off) in to be wild and the champion's banquet. ultimately there's many more, stories i started in old fandoms that lost their spark, ideas that once tied me to certain creators i no longer support, concepts and outlines that will never get the dedicated time they deserve to bloom.

in total i probably have an extra ~100k of unpublished writing between different unfinished stories, drafts, wips, and ideas (and that's a modest guess, as the last time i counted was early 2023).

What are your writing strengths?

i loooove personification and descriptions and metaphors. i think it's so fun to join words and sentences together via descriptions, flow, and imagery that's different than you might expect. i think i write emotional messiness relatively well (as i looove a little hypocrisy and unreliable narration) and overall i just like writing about people and love and the human condition. PEACE AND LOVE ON PLANET EARTH!

What are your writing weaknesses?

sometimes i do, in fact, get lost in the sauce. i think i've over-corrected for a slow pacing issue by now rushing through scenes, and it kills tension. it makes action/suspenseful writing REALLY hard. you guys have no idea how much i struggled on there's a room where the light won't find you, my action-filled piece for hgcz.

also i HATE titles oh my god. titles we're meeting in the back of a dark room and i've got a weapon

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

so i've kind of flip-flopped here. i was in the camp of "cringe" on this for awhile, and then i wrote light is burning as i am yearning where i used galactic in-line with the dialogue and sort of loved it. the main reason it felt so cohesive was i wanted the reader to sort of lose understanding of what was happening alongside the character. in that aspect, i think the galactic

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

h. hetalia (my ffnet account is backdated to 2010 <3)

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

ohhhh within this fandom, i'm really keen to write gempearl at some point or convex. from outside the mcyt sphere, i have a really soft spot for some older series i loved but didn't have the confidence/prowess to explore ideas about that i'd love to go back and write for. so like personal passion projects i suppose

What's your favorite fic you've written?

god i oscillate on this question so much. right now it's the first disciple simply by merit of recency bias. sometimes i think a story or idea comes into my life to challenge me, and to provide me a mountain to overcome in myself, and i'm finding this story to be an example.

i love writing and talking about stories. my art feels like an endless way to tell stories about ideas, characters, bodies, and humanity: through writing and artwork i hope to continue to be a storyteller.

and now to tag people <3 i'm calling upon the hgcz writer's guild! if you've already done this, please feel free to ignore the tag @mochiwrites @boonbeenblade @theminecraftbee @droidofmay @alicenotalice @kayawolfhorse

[missheavenfield1215]

Ok but- Hear me Out, Fakiru fans!!

For years, I've been reading so many Fakiru fanfictions that I'm surprised I didn't realize this, until about three days ago...

I was cleaning my house while my music was playing and that's when I found my sketchbooks from 5 years ago... And I was really surprised that every song that was played had some relation to my drawings...

So here I will leave you the songs that I feel fit the most with the Fakir x Ahiru couple.

This song talks about a war and the singer mentions that when he thinks he is fighting the war alone, he remembers her with him on the front lines of battle. He also says that as hope fades, he now only needs her name to know the reasons why he is fighting.

If you ask me, it sounds exactly like the plot of the first part of the series.

If I can let the memory heal

I will remember you with me on that field

When I thought that I fought this war alone

You were there by my side on the frontline

When I thought that I fought without a cause

You gave me a reason to try

Turn the page I need to see something new

For now my innocence is torn

We cannot linger on this stunted view

Like rabid dogs of war

I will let the memory heal

I will remember you with me on that field

When I thought that I fought this war alone

You were there by my side on the frontline

And we fought to believe the impossible

When I thought that I fought this war alone

We were one with our destinies entwined

When I thought that I fought without a cause

You gave me the reason why...

This song gives me so many Fakir vibes... He needs the love of the person he loves to keep fighting his fatal destiny. He's completely used to putting his own needs aside to protect Mytho and Ahiru, so deep down he must think that he just needs to be by her side so that his motivation doesn't disappear.

The here and now will bow to him to only serve one purpose

To keep your peace

He takes on the world all in a stride

And your wounds will be his scars

So won't you remember when the night comes

He will need your open arms

For to be invincible

He needs your love

I truly believe that if Fakir wanted to confess his love, it would be with this song.

The writing is beautiful without falling into the explicit and far-fetched... The song is cryptic enough to let Ahiru know what he wants to tell her without feeling so ashamed of his desperate feelings.

Chills come racing down my spine

Like a storm on my skin, with shaking hands

I'll guide your sweet soul into mine

Until I feel you within and I know

I know that it's all about understanding

Am I hidden inside your beautiful soul as it's crying for love

To conquer the day slowly dawning

I want you to know you're the heart of my temple of thought

So when you're restless I will calm the ocean for you

In your sorrow I will dry your tears

When you need me I will be the love beside you

I'll take away all your fears

I'll take away all of your fears

So you can let go all your fears

These songs have inspired me for years when writing my fanfiction Fakir x Ahiru, I would be very happy if more people knew about the existence of these songs so I could get some inspiration...

And I'm going to put here a drawing of me while listening to Temple Of Thought

The Loyal Knight and the Princess of his Dreams

[krizpyart]

my favorite aus are the ones where fakir freaks out about absolutely Nothing

based on the hilarious teacher(‘s assistant)/student au by @dasseinhundin: one large coffee, cream no sugar

[mightbedragons]

"Do you think we'll find treasure there?" "Who knows?" said Fakir in disappointing answer.

G, 900 words, post-canon.

Fakiru Week 2024 | 12 November - If My Heart Was a House.

[alotmorefanfiction]

Would anyone be willing to help me finally keep motivation for this fic that's stuck in my brain I'm going to absolutely scream if it doesnt come out

[therookieking412]

Prosperity chapter 10 has been posted!

I’ll make a more official post in a bit, but I’ll be changing the format, so I’m rate as of a new post for every chapter, I’ll have one post with all the links, this fanfic is going to be long and I think that’ll help keep better track! I’ll be making that later today 😊🤗

[taroshi-chan]

Prompt: I don’t rightly remember, but I know it didn’t have anything to do with what I wrote… Pairing: Fakir x Ahiru For: @doggy-yasha (look what you made me do! @-@) Word Count: 2170

I have no title for this story yet, and I’m really bad with names so feel free to suggest suitable names if you’d like.

Chapter One

Once upon a time there was an old man who lived in a castle.    He loved stories. Epic stories. Fanciful Stories. Tragic stories. He loved them so much he decided to create his own. Normally this would not pose much of a problem. He was not, however, a normal man. One by one the old man’s stories began to come true. As the years went by, his stories spilled out of the castle and into the neighbouring town. People started to disappear or…change. Terrified for their safety, the townspeople killed the old man. The stories stopped. All was well for a time. But the old man had left something behind in the wake of his death… Alone. In his castle. — Fakir was upset. He was cold, tired and hopelessly lost. But mostly upset. It had been raining for the better part of a week now, with no sign of letting up. The man pulled his cloak tighter around himself as he continued his trudge through the thick mud that the road had become. He cursed the man who had given him directions in the last town he’d passed through. “You just follow this road down a couple miles, you can’t miss it!” Apparently he could. “You’ll come across a sign pointing you in the direction of the town from there.” There had been no sign. What there had been though was a fork in the road. No signage marked either direction.There had been no discernible difference to either path, each had just led through more forest. So Fakir took an educated guess and chose the path leading to the right. Which led him to his current and wet predicament. He had been on this same road for days with no town, no signs and no people in sight. The man grumbled to himself as he stopped once again to pull his boot out of the grasping mud with a splosh! ‘I’ve had it now. I’m going to get up this hill and then I’m going to go to sleep in the rain and if I wake up and it’s still raining I’m going to kill-wait, what’s that? Is that…’ A light. Fakir stared at his hungrily. It was close. Less than a mile, he thought. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself towards it. — Over an hour later Fakir stumbled into a small town. An actual. Freaking. Town. He could have kissed the ground in joy if it weren’t wet, muddy and entirely beneath his dignity. He followed the sounds of music and laughter to a building he could only assume was the local inn. He hoped he was correct. The building had a rather large picture of a laughing goat over the door. It was debatable. He stepped inside. The noise did not stop upon his arrival but there was a noticeable dim in overall sound. Ignoring the many pairs of eyes that followed him curiously, Fakir made his way over to the bar. A portly older man sporting a moustache was cleaning a glass with a dirty rag. He glanced up and gave the newcomer a once over before dipping his head to nod in greeting. Fakir returned the nod. “Good evening.” The bartender eyed him warily, “Can I help you, sir?” Fakir pulled his hood down and pushed wet hair out of his eyes in one smooth motion, “I need a room.” “Certainly. For how long will you be staying with us?” A gold coin slid across the bar top. “Indefinitely.” Fakir received a genuine smile from the bartender, “Welcome to Kinkan Town, mister…?” “Sir Lohengrin.” The man’s brows rose in surprise. His gaze dropped to the sword no longer hidden beneath layers of wet cloak. “You a knight, then?” Something flickered in the man’s dark dark eyes. “That’s right.” “Huh. Don’t remember the last time we had a knight in town…” He offered Fakir another smile,  which Fakir did not return. “Don’t rightly remember the last time we had a visitor neither. Enjoy your stay, Sir Knight. I’ll get Missy here to show you to your room.” Missy turned out to be a small, plump and overly flirtatious girl. He followed her up the stairs to a small warm room. Fakir pointedly ignored her offer to “warm his bed for him” and shut the door in her face. He sighed in relief. Making sure the door was securely locked, he set down his belongings, shed his damp clothing and fell into the soft, warm bed. — He woke to the smell of slightly charred bacon and sunlight. Though his belly rumbled in appreciation of the former, it was the latter that caught his attention. He rose and went to the tiny window, basking in the warmth that streamed through. He could see most of the town from here, as the inn was one of the only buildings with two stories; low houses, cobbled streets, greenery, and what was clearly the market district. And a wall. A rather large wall, in fact.

Fakir frowned. He didn’t remember passing through a gate to get into the town. Shaking his head, he turned from the window and stooped to retrieve his clothes. He grimaced; he really should have thought to lay them out properly last night. They were still very damp. He sighed and tugged them on reluctantly. At least it wasn’t raining anymore. — Once he was dressed and had stowed his belongings in the chest at the end of his bed (excepting, of course, his sword which he belted in place) he made his way downstairs and towards the heavenly smells it encompassed. Accepting a share of bacon and a small loaf of bread from a different serving girl (her name was Wendy, she told him shyly) he made his way over to an empty table to tuck in. As he ate, and oh it was good, he thought about his next move. He should get a lay of the land, figure out where exactly he was in relation to the town he had just come from. Really, he thought to himself disgustedly, how could I have gotten so lost? The man had been so sure of himself and his directions. And how did I miss that wall? This was the thought that bothered him the most, so much so that when Wendy came to take his empty plate away he startled her by grabbing her wrist. “Wendy.” “Y-yes?” “Why does your town have a wall that large around it?” Puzzled, she asked, “A wall?” “Yes, a wall. That huge thing that, by the looks of it, surrounds your entire town.” “There is no wall, sir.” She gave him another worried look, “Are you all right?” Fakir stared at her and slowly released her. “Yes, I’m fine. I must be mistaken…” Wendy nods and picks up his empty plate, backing away slowly. — Finished with his meal, and subsequent brooding, Fakir makes his way towards the marketplace. He weaves through the crowd for a while in search of something specific, ah, there it is. He walks up to a very large woman who is busy cross stitching what appears to be a tap dancing pig. He frowns at her nonsensical picture and clears his throat. The woman looks up from her work, looking nonplussed at the interruption. “What.” “Er…” The woman raises a brow at the knight, tapping her foot impatiently. “Have you got any maps for sale?” The woman eyes him, “Sure. Got one of the town here somewhere.” Fakir glances at the piles of rolled paper on her table. A hand flapped away his scrutiny, “Them’s just pictures.” The knight gives her a dubious look but waits patiently while she digs through them. She hands him a large scroll, which he immediately opens. A picture of Kinkan Town greets him, with cheery letters discerning the local shops and areas of interest. He turns back to the woman with a frown, “Do you have one of the surrounding area too?” The lady scoffs at him, “What do I look like, a map maker? That’s the best I got. If you want it, it’ll be two coppers.” Fakir swallows his annoyance and fishes out her money, which she took with undisguised glee. He must have been her only customer in a while. He glances back at her tap dancing pig. No wonder there. He spends another copper on a sausage and cheese pastry on his stroll back through the market, which tastes just about as heavenly as his earlier meal. He comes into the town square, and sat down in the greenery, under a large tree. He looks around to take in the shops, the market and the bustle of people as they made their way through both. A thought comes to him and he unrolling his new map, looking over the edges of the town. No wall there either. Fakir’s frown deepens. That doesn’t make any sense. Wendy didn’t seem to know what he was talking about either. He glanced up to confirm that the wall was still there. It was. Mystified, he shook his head and turned back to examine the map. The town took up most of the scroll, and seemed to be nestled in a small dense forest. There was even a lake. And a castle. A castle. How long has it been since I’ve stepped foot inside a cast- Fakir squelched the thought before it could take root. A castle, hm? He checked for its name but found nothing; it was unmarked. He’d never heard of any lordlings presiding over any land in this area before. Though he didn’t really know where this area was, so it could be possible that he was in a recognizable location after all. Fakir stared at the map. It did its best to stare back. Decision made, he rose with fluid grace. Tucking the map securely into his belt, he set off in the direction of the castle. — Well. It was a castle all right. Or rather, used to be. High dark walls with what looked like fire-char marking it, providing it with a much darker ambiance. Tall, narrow windows of stained glass. Some of the windows were broken completely, colourful shards of glass twinkled like gems in the unadulterated sunlight. Debris littered the expansive grounds, and Fakir picked his way cautiously through it to the steep steps of the main entrance. The double doors were still intact, dark and sturdy wood that gave grudgingly to the knights’ shoulder. “What happened here?” Fakir muttered to himself. There was more fire damage inside, the scorched rugs and blackened walls attested to that.   Despite the disaster the castle presented him with, Fakir felt a deep fascination with it. And a unconscious sense of familiarity. He spent the next couple hours exploring. He explored the many chambers, which turned out to be mostly intact. He explored the communal rooms, kitchen and the ballroom, with its wall of mirrors. He even doubled back to explore the grounds, which would have been lovely if not for the wreckage. He was following  a long narrow corridor and the events of a tapestry about an old man which concluded halfway in charred threads when he noticed the door. Had he missed one? Come to think of it, he didn’t remember seeing this hallway either in his first go-through. It was smaller than the others, and to his surprise had appeared to take no damage from the fire that had ravished the rest of the structure. He placed a hand upon it; it felt rough and solid beneath his fingers. Slowly he pushed the door open. Fakir stepped into a cozy and apparently lived-in room. A small fire was crackling merrily in the hearth, bathing the room in warm golden light. He took in the thick orange and gold rugs, the vanity table and attached mirror, and the tiny window that shed little light and appeared to overlook the surrounding forest. There was also a small four post bed with many blankets piled upon it haphazardly. It looks like a nest, Fakir thought to himself. And it was moving. The knight narrows his eyes as he inched cautiously closer to the bed, craning his neck to peer into the folds of cloth. It was a duck. Fakir blinked and frowned. A duck? What was it doing here? Why does it look like it… Lives here. Frowning, the man takes a closer look at the bird. It was small, he thought. Small and bright yellow. It was quacking in a muttering way as it shifted and settled around it’s perch. A single bright feather stuck up like a cowlick at the top of its head. Fakir snorted at the sight. The sound was enough to startle the duck, who turned its head quickly in the direction of the unfamiliar sound. Fakir froze as he met and held the ducks gaze, its eyes huge. Huge and blue. Fakir looked at the duck. The duck looked at Fakir. “Hello,” it said.

To be continued…