#there you go brain i actually wrote the thing xD
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tiredassmage · 9 months ago
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betting on a sunrise
I insist that there was a missed opportunity for Nik to drain that Cassandra Sunrise right in front of Hunter and be almost bored about it, so my brain insisted that we may as well write something to fix it. So, here we are: we'll let Nik steal the spotlight of being Nine for just a moment so that I can have this as a little amusement.
Also posted to ao3(x). And, ofc, Imperial Agent spoilers for the chapter 2 prelude, The Master Strategem.
rating: teen (some swearing); characters: hunter, the imperial agent, shoutout to our best support vector hyllus
Neon lights so vibrant and eclectic they���d be burned into the back of your eyelids for another three days, even in your sleep. At least Nar Shadaa never changed - a reliable bastion of backstabbing, gambling, backstabbing, cartels and street gangs.
And backstabbing, of course.
Still enough to make Nikihlus’s lip curl back slightly over his teeth. And still, he’d rather his chances here than the cloying egos of Dromund Kaas. Or that killer humidity, for another.
“Many auras here oscillate… wildly, agent.” Vector Hyllus cocks their head with the faintest trace of a frown at the corner of their lips. A blue twi’lek woman in a fit of laughter stumbles into their shoulder on her way out with her companion without so much as a glance back. “It is… interesting to sort through.”
“Been to many a cantina, Vector?”
“The nest is not without its celebrations, if that is what you are inquiring, agent.”
The zabrak nearly rolled his eyes, though settled for inclining his head towards the bar. “You’ll have to forgive me if I pass on participating, given the opportunity.”
“Each to their own taste,” they replied lightly. Their eyes drifted across the room as the pair picked their way around a few tables, while the agent was clearly concerned with making for the bar. “We believe it best we do not imbibe at this time. We shall watch your back.”
Nikihlus cast a glance at them over his shoulder. “Suit yourself.” He gestured towards the wall at the end of the bar. “Try to keep yourself out of trouble.”
“Noted.” Certainly they both knew that was why Kaliyo had not accompanied them to this particular rendezvous.
It was curious enough Imperial Intelligence would have one alien Cipher, he could’ve argued. Not that they’d make half so odd a pair here on the Hutt moon, and Hyllus was not exactly much less of a curiosity. Nik could’ve likely enjoyed the higher threat of something starting a brawl with the Rattataki at his side, but rules were rules with their Imperial masters.
For now, at least. And he wasn’t half as much as interested in trying to explain Djannis’s plan to Keeper’s stiff lips. He was, perhaps, on enough of the woman’s bad side as it was.
Nikihlus sighed as he finally rested his arms against the bar. Something strong ought to take the edge off of the work. At the very least, it was far preferable to wasting time wondering if Keeper thought this was some amusing jest for what had transpired on the Dominator. And far more preferable than trying to puzzle out that particular master’s ideas of fate. It was more than enough to make a man miss working for the Hutts.
“Well, hello there.”
Nik closed his eyes and buried a groan somewhere beneath his stomach before he let his eyes slide to his right and settle on the blonde perched against the bar two seats down already wearing a smile.
At least make it good.
The man opened an arm to gesture to a glass beside him. “I suppose she didn’t want to finish her drink. Perhaps I can interest you in what’s left of a Cassandra Sunrise?”
Nik weighed flashing a scowl against the proffered nearly-full glass. And Hyllus’s absence from his side to comment on accepting drinks on the job - from strangers in cantinas, no less.
“Perhaps,” Nik allowed a drawl over the word and shifted to lean against one arm on the bartop - a better mirror of his would-be company. “What’ll it cost me?”
The blonde’s smile grew, and rather pleased, too, with a chuckle to match. “Ah, are all Imperial Ciphers so mistrusting?”
Nik stiffened, breath stilling in place as golden eyes narrowed slightly.
Enough to make the blonde laugh again. He pushed off the bar to close the distance between them and slid the glass closer. “Oh, I’m sorry. Pretty presumptuous of me. Though… I suppose I could just have to keep looking for that Cipher somewhere else… Imperials wouldn’t have such a good sense of direction down here with little old us, would they?”
Nik blew a sharp exhale out of his nostrils. Cocky. He pressed a smile to his lips as his company turned like he was about to leave and took up the glass. “It’d certainly be interesting, wouldn’t it?”
“Very,” the blonde agreed. He perched back against the bar. “Couldn’t imagine it’d have anything to do with that Cipher wanting to change sides.”
Nik hummed as he raised the glass to his lips. Not for the faint of heart. “Careful,” he mused, “I might start believing you got this for me instead of your lady friend.”
That grin glittered like a Hutt statue. “Maybe I did. Maybe I didn’t. You certainly gave me enough time. Made the check at the spaceport.”
The kind of burn that might fry the horns off a krayt dragon, that Sunrise. Nik swallowed and held out the glass to inspect the remaining contents. “Reckon your Imperial ‘friend’ would like that, would you..?” He glanced at the blonde over the rim of the glass.
“Codename Hunter, Strategic Information Service.”
Nik flashed a wry smile. “Trying to kill me already, hm?”
Hunter shrugged. “That’s what we’re going to find out, if you still plan on playing along.” For a mercy, that obnoxious little dangle on his lips seemed to be quieted as he eyed Nik, glass to lips again. “Nothing’s free-”
“Except the drink?”
Hunter’s smile dropped, leaving behind only dark eyes that Nik met silently over the glass. “Job first, then we’ll see if you’re worth anything. No sob stories, no complaints, no questions. Then I’ll consider introducing you.”
With all pleasantries discarded, Nik merely inclined his head slightly. “Better keep talking, then.” The Sunrise would only last so long, after all. Without breaking eye contact, he tipped the glass just enough to offer a steady burn.
“There’s a new factory in town, Cipher - a courtesy of a little deal between Nem’ro the Hutt and your dear Empire. It’s supposed to manufacture hunters, crawlers, Jedi-killers… All the best - and nasty - stuff. You’re going to do something about it.”
Nik’s brow raised briefly as he swallowed. Of course I will. Almost empty. “I’ve been known to deal with a few Hutts,” he said. “Here I was thinking it’d almost been too long.”
“Tempting as that may be, save your thoughts of reunions.” Nik rolled his eyes and took up the glass again. “You’ll need your Cipher clearance. Security’s tight, but automated. Get inside. Get me reconnaissance. We talk again when I know what you’re dealing with, and we make this little problem disappear. Deal?”
Nik set down the glass heavily on the bartop and rolled his neck. “Thought you already knew that much, no? Hunters, killers…?”
Nothing shifted in those dark eyes. “Like you said. Try to make it worth my credits.”
“What? Your bosses not like cantina tabs on your write-offs?”
“You deal, or you don’t.” Hunter turned to leave. “We’ll know either way, Cipher. But the next round’s on you. I know how to reach you, so you’ll know where to go. Within an hour, or I might have to come looking for my credits, and your work could get very complicated.”
Nik’s narrowed eyes followed his back as he left. Vector rejoined him as the blonde turned a corner out of the cantina and beyond view. “Agent?” He could hear the mild frown on the Joiner’s face without looking for it.
“So goes our man,” Nik gestured towards the doorway lightly.
“And? We… hope you minded yourself."
Nik hummed thoughtfully. “We’ll see, I suppose. Won’t we?” He blinked and glanced back towards the bar before he dug in his pocket and tossed a few credits out by the empty glass. To cover the tab or, perhaps, to make a bet. “We shall see, my friend. Come then. I’ve a feeling Kaliyo will be jealous for not bringing her along, so we may as well make it a damn good story.”
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Spencer Reid x Read fic. Reid and Reader are friends, like best friends. Reader is always offering Reid donuts and listening to his fun facts and info dumps. It's one of those, they both like each other, but also are convinced the other doesn't like them.
Spencer is taking care of a slightly drunk reader whose grandmother called and asked why they're not engaged when they're younger sibling is married and expecting a child. At some point Spencer makes his ever classic comment about how it's safer to kiss and drunk reader, before being able to think, kisses Spencer. I hope that made sense.
OOPS I DID EXACTLY THAT
Safer to Kiss (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader
Word Count: 2899
Warnings: Mentions of food, drinking alcohol, mild cursing, outdated expectations of women, and lots of pining
A/N: Hi I wrote this in 2 hours and was extremely entertained, please enjoy and if you send me a fic request I'll probably do it bc this is my hyperfixation hobby right now and very much keeping the demons at bay xD @bxm-1012 thank you for dropping by my inbox! I am VERY tempted to make a part 2 of this, I hope you enjoy! c:
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The whole expiration date thing that women faced was, in your humble opinion, complete and utter bullshit. Here you were, slowly approaching thirty (definitely still told people you were twenty-five, when, in fact, you were actually twenty-eight), and the biological clock was ticking. No, you didn’t want kids. Not right now, anyway. Not when you were only two years into your career as a profiler for the FBI’s prestigious Behavioral Analysis Unit. Not when you still had tons of things to check off your bucket list - go to Europe, visit an independent bookstore in every state, pilot a helicopter. 
And you didn’t buy into that whole ‘once a woman hits thirty, her stock plummets’ crap. Not usually, anyway. 
But Nan’s phone calls always left you questioning your existence. 
Back home in Ohio, your little sister, Kendra, had just announced her pregnancy. Three years younger than you (ironically, the age you told everyone you were), and married to a power plant manager, Kendra was living the dream of a woman from the 1950s. You tried your best not to look down on it, to wish for more for her - but Kendra was happy. She’d always wanted to be a mother, and you couldn’t imagine anyone better suited for the role. There was nothing wrong with wanting to be a wife and a mother, to devoting one’s life to it. You reminded yourself of that every time you spoke to Kendra. You especially reminded yourself of it every time you spoke to Nan. 
That sympathetic tone your grandmother used when she said, “Oh, Button, you’ll find someone eventually, and you’ll be just as happy as Kenny” was like nails on a chalkboard. You resisted the urge to gag into your speakerphone and simultaneously rip your grandmother a new one. You wanted so badly to explain to her that you were perfectly fulfilled with your life. 
You helped lock up bad guys on a weekly basis, you wanted to remind Nan. Your brain was one of few that had been chosen for a task force that caught criminals based on their behavior. It was amazing, working for the BAU, bouncing ideas off of your colleagues, finding a family within this small group of people that spent more than forty hours a week together. 
Nan didn’t see it that way. She wanted you to be just like Kendra. She wanted you to have that white picket fence in the suburbs, with a broad-shouldered husband and two little tykes running at your feet. Domestic bliss just wasn’t in the cards for you, you’d decided. And that was okay.
You were still reeling from your conversation with Nan the night before when you walked in to work on Monday morning. It was Derek who caught the raging RBF first. “Woah, pretty girl. Pump. Your. Brakes.” He said, halting you just as you entered the BAU’s bullpen, holding a hand up to stop you. 
“Good morning to you, too, Derek,” You flashed him a phony grin, and he rolled his eyes. 
“And you’re grumpy this morning… why, exactly?” Derek asked, turning to walk beside you, essentially escorting you to your desk. 
“Because I’m allowed to be?” You proffered, shrugging your shoulders, not really wanting to talk about it with him. You loved Derek - hell, you loved all your coworkers - but he was not the person you wanted to go to with these thoughts. You didn’t really want to talk to anyone about it, actually. You just wanted to ride the cranky train until it came to a complete stop. 
Emily was returning from the kitchenette with a fresh mug of coffee and decided that the conversation concerned her as well. “What’s going on?” she asked. 
“Y/L/N’s wearing her cranky pants this morning,” Derek filled her in. 
“Oh, those so don’t match your blouse, Y/N,” Emily teased, winking at you with a smirk before looking at Derek. “Cut her some slack. No one likes Mondays.” Derek held up his palms defensively. “Alright, alright. Forgive me for being a concerned citizen.” 
“It’s appreciated,” You told Derek genuinely before setting your bag down at your desk. “But unnecessary.” 
It wasn’t until later in the morning, around ten, that anyone bothered you about your obvious bad mood again. This time it was Spencer, the one person you couldn’t possibly be annoyed with. He rolled on his desk chair around the partition that separated your workspaces, holding his hand out expectantly, like he usually did this time of day. 
Without speaking, you opened the bottom drawer of your desk and pulled out the white bag of mini powdered donuts that you always kept in stock. They were your guilty pleasure snack, and one of the first things you and Spencer bonded over when you started at the BAU two years ago. That, and the fact that you were the closest agents in age, was how you got along so well so quickly. Over several cases, varying in degrees of intensity, you and Spencer became really great friends. Best friends, actually. 
There wasn’t anyone else in your life that you trusted more than Spencer Reid. 
You opened the bag of powdered donuts and shook one haphazardly into Spencer’s palm, then grabbed one for yourself. Silently, you cheers-ed your donuts together, and ate them simultaneously, making weird-but-comfortable eye contact as you did. 
“Derek says you’re in a bad mood today,” Spencer pointed out with a teasing smirk on his face. A smirk, and white sugar blanketing his upper lip.
“Derek’s full of shit,” you grinned after swallowing your snack, the smile on your face totally facetious. “I’m extremely happy.” 
“I can tell,” Spencer snickered as you set the powdered donuts back in your snack drawer, closing it with a clank. You watched as he brought both of his legs up into his desk chair, crossing them like a kindergartner. 
The action made your stomach flutter. You’d felt strongly about Spencer for a really long time, probably a year and half, if you had to try and pinpoint it. But there was no use in going down that road with him. For one thing, he was your best friend, and you didn’t want to risk flushing the best relationship in your life down the toilet. For another thing, you knew it was one hundred percent impossible that he could feel the same way. 
“What’d you do this weekend?” Spencer asked, and you could tell by the question that he was trying to discover the source of your poor attitude. 
“Stayed home, caught up on chores,” You said, crossing your knees and leaning back in your seat, your expression telling him that you knew exactly what he was doing. As much fun as playing mind games with Spencer was, you decided to throw him a bone. “Spoke to my grandmother on the phone last night.” 
Spencer nodded understandingly. “Say no more,” he said with a chuckle. “She gave you the whole ‘when are you going to get married’ spiel again?” 
You nodded. “Unfortunately. I usually don’t let it bother me, but for some reason it’s just, like, lurking in the back of my mind today.” You shrugged your shoulders and exhaled through your nose. “What about you?” You asked. 
“What about me?” Spencer arched a brow, and you rolled your eyes playfully. 
“What’d you do this weekend?” 
“Oh,” Spencer began, pursing his lips for a moment, like he was hesitant to tell you. “I actually went on a date.” 
Your stomach flipped. “Oh yeah?” You choked out, forcing a smile. “Who with?” 
“That girl, Lisa, from the coffee shop, the one you told me wouldn’t stop ‘ogling my boy band hair’,” Spencer held up air quotes when he repeated your words from memory.
You recalled the cute barista from the coffee shop just down the highway from Quantico, a popular morning stop for agents on their way to work. You tried to stop the jealousy from turning your blood into fire. “How was it?” You asked, trying to resist the urge to sit on the edge of your seat, trying not to hang on his every word. 
Spencer shrugged his shoulders. “It was okay. She was very nice, but there just wasn’t…” he trailed off, gesticulating as the words failed to come to that supercomputer brain of his. 
“It was like a donut without powdered sugar on it?” You suggested with a small chuckle.
“Yeah,” Spencer agreed, nodding, meeting your eyes and smiling, mildly amused. “Exactly.” 
Spencer went back to his desk a few minutes later, and the rest of the day went on. It was quiet, especially for a day at the BAU. There were, weirdly enough, no open cases right now, so you spent the day catching up on paperwork, which there was always plenty of. 
You caught the elevator about ten minutes after five with Spencer in tow, and you held the door open for him. It was just the two of you as you made the descent from the sixth floor, and Spencer leaned against the back wall. “Plans tonight?” He asked. 
“Not really, no,” You said, shaking your head. “Why, you want to do something?” You asked. 
Spencer nodded. “There’s this landscape and nature photography exhibit at one of the galleries downtown,” he said. “Might be fun. There’s this artist, Milton Harvell, who takes photos of renowned locations around the world but zooms in on an obscure detail and gives the framed photograph to the person who correctly guesses the location.” 
You smiled slowly at that. You loved it when Spencer went off on one of his tangents. You found it completely adorable. “It’s actually quite fascinating,” Spencer went on, an amused tone lining his voice, making it sound lighter. “Kind of like a Where’s Waldo, but in reverse. There was this one photograph he took of the Louvre in Paris, but he zoomed in really tightly on a young boy enjoying an ice cream cone. He even went so far as to edit the photograph to make it look like it was a different time of day. The four thousand and eighth person to view the photograph was the person who guessed the correct location.” Spencer’s head bobbed and he was smiling like an idiot. 
God, you were down bad. 
“Was the four thousand and eighth person… you?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at him scrupulously and allowing a teasing grin to cross your face. 
“The photo’s hanging in my living room,” he confirmed. 
You laughed softly. “Will there be alcohol at this function?” You asked him, and he nodded. 
That was all you needed to hear. 
— — —
You and Spencer went straight to the art gallery from work, sharing a cab rather than bothering with your cars. You immediately bought a glass of red wine, and began to follow him around the gallery. You weren’t an art aficionado, not by any means, but you enjoyed looking at beautiful things, and you especially enjoyed spending time with Spencer that wasn’t hunched over a dead body or trying to map out a killer’s comfort zone. It was a rare occurrence, so you tried to soak it all up as much as possible. 
Plus, your Nan’s words were still lingering in the back of your head. It’ll happen for you someday, Button. Men just don’t find you strong, career types attractive. Maybe you should soften up your look a little. 
You downed your first glass of wine within ten minutes, and caught one of the catering staff passing out champagne almost instantaneously after. The champagne fizzled down your throat as you strolled with Spencer through the art gallery, listening intently as he went on about each piece, rattling off whatever contextual knowledge he had. But you were a little bit biased; you could listen to him list different types of soil and find it interesting. 
After the glass of champagne came another glass of champagne, and by the time you made it to the main exhibit Spencer wanted to see, your cheeks were flushed. It wasn’t that you couldn’t hold your alcohol; rather, it just made you a little bit silly. Your inhibitions were lowered, just like it would affect anyone. But with your arm looped through Spencer’s and your Nan’s nagging message still in the back of your mind, you were perhaps a little more loose than usual. 
As Spencer examined the exhibit, you tapped your foot, unable to keep still, and scanned the open space. Your eyes landed on another patron of the gallery, a conventionally handsome man about your age, and you found yourself unlooping your arm from Spencer’s, subconsciously not wanting to appear taken. 
“Are you gonna go talk to that guy?” Spencer asked, and you snapped your eyes back to his. “Because you can, if you want to. Don’t let me stop you.” 
It was almost like he was daring you to. Spencer’s jaw seemed tense as you examined his expression, the way his gorgeous brown eyes darted from the man and back to you. “You don’t mind?” You asked, arching a brow, almost like a challenge.
Spencer shook his head, his lips pursed. “Not at all. I’ll wait here for you?” 
You nodded, and turned towards the man. There wasn’t any harm in getting a guy’s number, right? Your feelings for Spencer were a lost cause, anyway. Plus, as Nan liked to point out, you weren’t getting any younger. 
The man’s eyes locked on yours and he seemed to understand that you were about to speak with him. He met you halfway, and you shook his hand. “Malcolm Greene,” he introduced himself, and you spouted off your own name in return. “You’re not here with that guy?” He asked, jerking his chin over to Spencer. Your eyes followed Malcolm’s, and you saw Spencer with his body turned towards the photography exhibit, but his head turned to the side, as if he were keeping an eye on you with his peripheral vision. 
“Yeah, I am,” you said, and Malcolm’s head inclined to the side. “I am. I’m here with that guy,” you panicked, suddenly realizing in that moment that you weren’t interested in speaking with Malcolm. No, you had absolutely no interest in spending your time with any other man but Spencer Reid. “I just, uh…” Your cheeks flushed, and you stifled an awkward laugh, anxiously trying to come up with some excuse. “I came over here to tell you that your shoe was united.” 
Your eyes followed Malcolm’s down to his shoes, which were loafers. Laceless loafers. Malcolm’s mouth opened as if to point this out to you, but you managed to stammer words out first. “Ok, well, have a great night, goodbye!” You turned on your heel and marched back over to Spencer, your cheeks red as you reached out for his arm. 
Spencer furrowed his brows down at you as your arm gripped his. “I need another glass of wine,” you confessed. 
Twenty minutes later, after two more glasses of wine and a very watchful eye out for Malcolm, you and Spencer left the art gallery. You were awfully giggly on the cab ride back to your place, cracking puns and humming along to the radio intermittently. Spencer seemed to be amused, but more so concerned with getting you home in one piece. 
As he walked you up the stairs to the door of your apartment building, he was teasing you about your conversation with Malcolm, which you still hadn’t told him completely about. “I still can’t believe you didn’t get his number. You were talking with him for exactly two minutes and twelve seconds. What, in that short of an amount of time, could have turned you off to him so quickly?” He pondered aloud, a playfully mocking tone lining his voice. 
“Listen, I shook his hand! I had my fun!” You exclaimed, bursting into laughter as you leaned against the handrail of the stairs that led up to the door. “Good, clean fun!” 
“You know, the number of pathogens that are passed during a handshake is staggering. It’s actually safer to kiss someone,” Spencer rattled off, and your eyes snapped to meet his. 
You don’t know what took you over. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the way the street lamps reflected in the irises of his eyes, or how you stood just a few inches away from him. Maybe it was his stupid tweed blazer, how he looked like a tenured art history professor despite barely being thirty years old. Maybe it was the way he smelled like pine and printer ink, a combination you wouldn’t have ever thought was attractive. 
But when Spencer said that, you stood up on your toes and kissed him. It was slow and innocent at first, until it passed the border into lingering, and Spencer’s hands found your hips, pulling your body closer to his. There was a cool night breeze that filtered through the space between your bodies, and by the time you pulled your lips away from Spencer’s, and slowly opened your eyes, you were completely red in the face and breathless. 
No, that certainly wasn’t the safest choice you could have made.
——
read part 2 here
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magic-shop-stories · 24 days ago
Note
Hi I love your writing would you be able to wrote about BTS Dads reacting to their child losing their emotional support stuffed animal? Thank you and I hope you are alright
💌 Reply:
Hi there 💜 first... THANK YOU so sooooo much for the love, and I hope you are okay too! This request? Absolutely adored it... this one punched me right in the heart. I’ve poured extra softness into these dad headcanons (well at least I tried to)... I hope it’s everything you were hoping for xD Thank you for trusting me with something so precious and beautiful. — c — [aka fellow plushie guardian] PS: first one to find out which two of these plushies I actually own gets a virtual cookie
BTS Dads Comforting Their Child Through a Plushie Crisis - HC
Pairings: BTS!Dad's X Child Rating: G Genre: hurt/comfort, family, fluff, angst Warnings: none (only short loss of beloved plushies)
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KIM NAMJOON (RM)
"Nothing is truly lost if you remember to look."
Plushie
"Quackers" 
= a tiny, yellow duckling plush with one slightly loose wing
sewn by pre-concert Namjoon during a stressful day
given to his child on their first birthday
Namjoon self-stitched it while writing lyrics for "Spring Day" 
imbuing it with his hope for "things that return"
they never sleep without it
How It Happened
after a rainy-day family picnic at Haneul Park
he’s carrying his sleepy toddler, their bag and poetry book.
he buckles them into the car seat
Quackers slips unnoticed into a muddy puddle near the curb
his distracted "dad brain" (overthinking a new song idea) doesn't notice
Realisation
at bedtime
his child pats their empty hands together in panic
whispering “Quack-quack…?” 
Namjoon freezes mid-lullaby
his heart drops when he sees their crumpled face and the silent, shaky breath before tears
His thoughts
"I forgot to check the car... the park... did I drop it when I tripped over that root? This is my fault."
Reaction
calm outside, storm inside
scoops them up
pressing their head to his shoulder
his voice soft but urgent
“Shh, little explorer... Appa knows where Quackers might be. Remember our park adventure? He loves puddles. Let’s go find him together.”
Actions
throws on rain boots (his and his child’s)
grabs a flashlight and a towel
retraces every step
checks the car floor, the picnic blanket, even under park benches
trips over the same root he stumbles over before again
talks to calm them and himself
“Quackers isn’t lost. He’s just... having a solo adventure. Like Appa in London! But he’ll want his best friend back.”
Emotional Layers
Guilt
blames himself (his clumsiness, his distraction)
"I had one job ... keep them both safe."
Protectiveness
seeing his child’s quiet tears (they’re usually chatty) makes his chest ache
"They look so small without it."
Philosophical Coping
uses nature metaphors to soothe them
"Lost things have a way of returning, like cherry blossoms in spring"
but his voice wavers
Resolution
found after 20 minutes of searching
he spots Quackers half-submerged in the same muddy puddle by the car
His reaction
a gasp, then a wobbly smile
“There you are, brave duck!” 
washes it gently with bottled water
wrapping it in the towel like a baby
Comfort Ritual
“bathes” Quackers properly with soap and warm water at home
his child “helping”
tells a story
“Quackers missed you SO much. He was writing a poem in the puddle: ‘Ribbon of rain, earth’s soft sigh… waiting for my lullaby.’ But he’s home now.”
secretly sews the loose wing that night
adds a tiny nametag
"If found, return to [child's name]"
Final Comfort
tucks the child in with Quackers
now warm and clean (blew dried it)
presses a kiss to both foreheads
“Next time, we’ll clip him to your bag. Appa’s... still learning.” 
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KIM SEOKJIN (JIN)
"Being their hero is harder than being Worldwide Handsome. But I’ll keep leveling up."
Plushie
"Bossam" 
a rotund, silk-robed pig plushie
a gift from Jin after his child’s first successful potty training week
Jin declared it "CEO of Cuddles" 
gave it a tiny cardboard crown
his child whispers secrets to it every night
How It Happened
during a chaotic grocery run
Jin was jugglin:
cart piled with groceries
his child begging for "rainbow marshmallows"
a selfie fan request
"Of course! My eyebrows are cooperating today!")
Bossam tumbles from the cart near the frozen peas
Realisation
at checkout
his child pats their empty hoodie pocket
eyes widening
atiny whimper escapes them, then full-blown, trembling-lip silence
Jin notices instantly 
he knows their "I’m-breaking" face
His thoughts
"No... not Bossam. I was too busy being charming. Worst Appa award goes to..."
Reaction
Fake Panic to Hero Mode
he gasps dramatically
kneeling in the parking lot
"Bossam escaped?! That sneaky CEO! He must be negotiating a snack-merger! Don’t worry ... Appa’s a SUPERHUMAN TRACKER!"
Actions
abandons cart = priorities!
scoop them up onto his hip
retraces steps with sound effects
"Bossam? YAH! Report to Appa’s arms! Code: PIGGY EMERGENCY!"
peers under freezers
"Maybe he’s chilling with the ice cream?"
asks cashiers in overly formal Korean
"Have you seen a very handsome, round employee?"
Emotional Layers
Guilt
hides it behind jokes
but his grip on his child tightens
"They trusted me to keep Bossam safe. I failed."
Protective Rage
glares at anyone who side-eyes their search
"My baby’s heart is breaking, show respect!"
Sunshine Shield
uses humor to stop their tears
"Bossam’s probably recruiting stuffed bears! We must intercept!"
Resolution
found by a stock boy finds Bossam by the dumpster
where a cart nudged him
Jin sprints over, snatching it up
"VICTORY! The CEO has been retrieved! ...But he’s a bit dusty. Time for a spa day!"
Comfort Ritual
Jin "detail-cleans" Bossam in the car with baby wipes and hand sanitizer
claims Bossam was "scouting new noodle flavors" but missed them too much
sews a keychain clip to Bossam and the child’s bag
"Now he’s Appa’s co-pilot! No more secret missions."
Final Comfort
tucks them into bed
Bossam freshly "crowned" with a new sticker
sings "Epiphany" softly
pausing to whisper:
"Appa’s sorry he lost sight of your friend. But I’ll always find what matters to you. Pinky swear?"
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MIN YOONGI (SUGA)
“Anxiety isn’t weakness. It’s just... needing a dragon sometimes. I get it.”
Plushie
"Nuri" 
a small, indigo dragon with frayed silver wings and one missing sequin eye
Yoongi bought it during HYYH era after a panic attack
later gifted it to his child when they first had night terrors
"Dragons guard dreams. She’ll fight for you."
How It Happened
after a rare "Bring Your Child to Work" day at his home studio (he knows they love being there, so he does it every friday)
Yoongi let them "help"
as he carried them, asleep, to bed, Nuri slipped from their grip
tumbling behind a soundproof panel near his mixing desk
vanishing where they feels safest
Realisation
at 2 AM
his child jolts awake with a raw, gasping cry
he hasn’t it heard since infancy
they claw at their blanket, choking out: "N-Nuri... gone!" 
Yoongi bolts from bed, instantly alert
His thoughts
"The studio. I carried them past the panels. Fuck. I should’ve checked."
Reaction
silent urgency
scoops them up
tucking their face into his neck
his voice a low, steady hum
“Breathe. In... out. Like Appa taught you. Nuri’s tough... she wouldn’t go far.”
Actions
wraps them in his oversized hoodie
carries them piggyback to the studio
methodically scans under chairs, behind speakers, inside guitar cases
flashlight clenched in his teeth
places their hand on his chest so they feel his heartbeat
“Listen. Calm finds what’s lost.”
 Emotional Layers
Guilt as Ice
"I let my guard down. Her eye was loose... I kept forgetting to fix it."
Fierce Empathy
their trembling against his back feels like his own anxiety attacks
"They inherited my storms."
Protector Mode
every second they whimper, his jaw tightens
"I made Nuri a promise too."
Resolution
spots Nuri’s tail peeking from behind the sound panel
His reaction
a sharp exhale, eyes closing briefly
“There you are, warrior.” 
wipes dust off her wings with his sleeve
Comfort Ritual
sits cross-legged on the floor
child in his lap
sews Nuri’s missing eye back on with mint-green thread
“Nuri got lost defending the studio from... bass monsters. But she knew Appa would come. We’re a team.”
glues a tiny NFC tracker to Nuri’s belly, links to his phone
“Now she’ll ping us if she wanders. Secret mission tech.”
Final Comfort
tucks them back in
Nuri secured in their arms
strokes their hair until their breath evens
presses his lips to their temple
“Next time, wake Appa faster. Even at 2 AM. I’ll always look for what matters.”
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JUNG HOSEOK (J-HOPE)
“I’ll never let their light dim. Not ever. That’s my promise.”
Plushie
"Hope Bloom" aka "Bloomy"
a squishy, crocheted rainbow flower pillow with a smiling face
filled with lavender-scented beads
Hobi made it himself after his child’s first nightmare (age 3)
“Appa’s sunshine lives in every petal!” 
they nap on it, hug it during storms, tracing its colors to calm down
How It Happened
during a "Dance Party Cleanup" at home
disco ball spinning, BTS songs blasting
Hobi and his child were twirling with laundry baskets
Bloomy was tucked in a pile of blankets
until Hobi playfully tossed the stack onto the couch
the pillow bounce and slid silently behind the TV console
Realistion
his child reaches for Hope Bloom
fingers patting empty space
their breath hitches a silent, wide-eyed panic
Hobi knows it means true distress
tears well instantly
His thoughts
“No no no… it was RIGHT here. I distracted them. My fault.”
Reaction
scoops them into his arms, rocking side-to-side
voice thick but deliberately bright
“Oh, sweet pea… Hope Bloom’s just playing hide-and-seek! Appa’s the best seeker! Let’s find our sunshine, yeah?”
Actions
Teamwork Rally
ties his headband around their wrist like a “team flag” 
“We’re Hope World detectives! Where’s clue #1?”
Musical Search
sings “Chicken Noodle Soup” while crawling
shaking throw pillows, peeking under rugs
“Yahhh, Bloomy-ah! Your Appa’s here! Time to shine!”
Creative Coping
when tears continue, he sits them on the counter and makes “Brave Juice” 
= apple juice and a glittery straw
“Sip this! Super-seekers need fuel!”
Emotional Layers
Shared Pain
cries with them
quietly, wiping his cheeks when they look away
“Seeing them scared breaks my heart more than anything.”
Guilt to Fuel
blames himself for being “too loud”
channels it into relentless energy
“I will fix this. I have to.”
Hope as Armor
uses every tool to spin fear into hope
= songs, sparkles, silliness
“If I shine bright enough, they’ll believe it’s okay.”
Resolution
found after 30 minutes
Hobi spots a fleck of rainbow fabric behind the TV
His reaction
a sob-laugh
pulling it free with trembling hands
“FOUND YOU! Oh, you pretty thing! You missed us, right? RIGHT?” 
Comfort Ritual
dances around the room hugging both child and pillow
cuddled on the couch
he whispers: “Even when Bloomy hides… Appa’s sunshine is always in you. Feel it?” 
presses their hand to his chest
Final Comfort
tucks them in
Hope Bloom safely in their arms
sings until they drift off 
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PARK JIMIN
"Their tears are my weakness. But healing them? That’s my superpower."
Plushie
"Mimi"
a tiny, black swan with a glittery ribbon neck (he has a white one)
a gift from Jimin on his child’s adoption day
Jimin whispered, "Swans find their families forever. Like us." 
his child kisses Mimi’s beak every night
How It Happened
during a rushed morning at dance practice
his child played "ballet class" in the corner while he tried to get the new choreography
Mimi slipped from their tiny backpack when they raced to hug Jimin’s leg during break
Realisation
during the car ride home
his child clutches empty air
then lets out a shuddering gasp
tears erupt instantly
= huge, silent sobs that shake their whole body
Jimin pulls over, heart pounding
His thoughts
"They never cry like this. It’s Mimi. I didn’t check. I was distracted. I’m failing them."
Reaction
Jimin unbuckles, scrambles into the backseat
gathers them into his lap, rocking gently
his own tears fall into their hair
"Oh, my baby... Appa’s here. Shhh, let it out. Mimi’s just hiding, okay? We’ll find her. Together."
Actions
drives straight back to the studio
child glued to his hip, face buried in his neck
searches on his knees, under mirrors, in costume bins, behind piano
voice trembling but sweet
"Mimi-ah! Appa’s little star is so sad! Come out, please?"
texts OT7 group chat: "Mimi MISSING. HELP!!!"
Emotional Layers
Shared Pain
he cries with them
not performatively, but because their pain is his pain
"Their sobs feel like my ribs cracking."
Guilt Amplified
blames himself for not noticing sooner
"I should’ve seen their empty hands. I was talking about choreography."
Fierce Nurturing
cradles their head like porcelain
"Nothing else matters until their world is whole again."
Resolution
it's found under a speaker, pressed flat but unharmed
Jimin spots the glitter ribbon first
His reaction
a wet, relieved laugh
"MIMI! You scared us!" 
kisses the swan, then presses it to his child’s chest
Comfort Ritual
sways with child and Mimi in the empty studio, humming "Promise"
"Mimi was protecting Appa’s music! But she missed you too much. See? She flew back to your heart."
sews Mimi into a small sling they wear cross-body
"Now she’s always with you, like Appa’s love."
Final Comfort
he draws a warm bath at home, bathing them and Mimi in lavender bubbles
tucks them in with Mimi held between their joined hands
"Next time you feel scared, squeeze Appa’s hand and Mimi’s wing. We’re your forever team. Always."
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KIM TAEHYUNG (V)
"Lost things are just memories waiting to be rediscovered. Like us."
Plushie
"Honey"
a vintage-style caramel-brown teddy bear
one eye slightly loose
he discovered Honey while filming in Prague
whispering "You look lonely too" before gifting it to his child
it wears a tiny denim jacket (matching Tae’s)
smells of lavender
How It Happened
during an "Art Playtime" session
his child was "painting" (finger-smearing) while Tae photographed them
he was distracted by golden-hour light
didn’t notice Honey slipping off the velvet chaise into a basket of fabric scraps
lost in beauty, assuming magic keeps things safe
Realisation
his child toddles to the chaise
clutching empty air
their breath hitches
= a silent, confused stare
"Appa... Honey’s hiding?" 
Tae freezes mid-lens-clean
His thoughts
"The basket. The window seat. Did I...? No. Honey wouldn’t leave them."
Reaction
crouches down
wide eyed wonder
voice a conspiratorial whisper
"Shh... I think Honey’s on a spy adventure! Did you see the clues?"
points at fabric scraps like "footprints"
Actions
slides Honey’s favorite ribbon (purple) into their hand
"Follow the trail, detective!"
turns search into theater
checks behind canvases
"Maybe he’s modeling for Mona Lisa?"
inside ceramic pots - "Exploring caves?"
pretends to "call" Honey on a toy phone
"Agent Bear, your squad misses you! Operation: Cuddle Extraction is GREEN!"
 Emotional Layers
Quiet Panic
his smile stays bright, but his hands tremble lifting cushions
"They’ve never slept without him. What if he’s really gone?"
Guilt as Fuel
uses creativity to distract them (and himself)
"I should’ve put him on the shelf... but art is messy. Like love."
Childlike Faith
believes lost things are just "waiting to be found beautifully"
Resolution
he spots Honey’s ear poking out of the fabric basket
buried under rainbow chiffon
he lets out a soft gasp
then a triumphant "AHA!" 
lifts Honey like Simba
"He was gathering dream fabric for your next cape, superstar!"
Comfort Ritual
Tae "checks" Honey with a toy stethoscope
"Heartbeat: strong! Adventure level: expert!"
makes hot cocoa (their favorite)
sprinkling bear-shaped marshmallows
"Spies need warm fuel. Tell me everything Honey saw!"
creates a tale of Honey’s "quest"
= riding paper airplanes, befriending a ladybug, finding a "courage jewel"
Final Comfort
they are curled on the couch under a quilt
Tae tucks Honey between them
hums "Winter Bear" 
pausing to kiss their hair
"Even if Honey hides... Appa will always help you find him. And if he’s ever really lost?" 
pulls a tiny Honey drawing from his pocket
"We’ll make new stories. Together."
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JEON JEONGKUK (JUNGKOOK)
“Being their hero means preparing for battles I can’t see.”
Plushie
"Bam" 
a purple bunny with one floppy ear and satin-padded paws
Jungkook hand-stitched its torn ear after his child accidentally ripped it during a tantrum
they always tuck Bam’s ear under their chin to sleep
How It Happened
during a Saturday morning jog at Han River Park
Jungkook let his child “race” him on a grassy hill clutching Bam
a sudden downpour hit them
he scooped up his child to sprint to the car
Bam slipped unseen into a storm drain grate
Realisation
in the car
his child clutches empty air
then lets out a shattered whisper
“Bam… ear… cold.” 
Jungkook freezes mid-motion
wiping rain from their face
his stomach drops when he sees their trembling hands
His thought
“The run. I didn’t pay attention. I failed them both.”
Reaction
Soldier Mode Activated
his voice drops to a calm, urgent murmur
“Stay right here. Appa’s got Bam.”
races back into the rain with no jacket
phone flashlight blazing
Actions
scans the path like a hawk
drops to his knees at the drain
spotting purple fur in the murky water
texts the group chat
“Need crowbar NOW. Drain at south gate.”
talks to soothe himself
“Bam’s tough. Survived ear surgery. Survives this.”
Emotional Layers
Guilt
crushing self-blame
“I had ONE job”
ignores rain soaking through his clothes
Protective Fury
his jaw tightens seeing Bam’s fur muddy
Fear
his child’s silent crying in the car haunts him
“They look so… small.”
Resolution
uses the crowbar to pry open the grate
muscles straining, rain blurring his vision
fishes Bam out with a long stick
cradling the drenched bunny like a wounded bird
shouts to his child in the distance
“BAM’S A HERO! HE FOUGHT THE STORM DRAGON!”
Comfort Ritual
bathes Bam in the sink with baby shampoo and warm water at home
letting his child help rinse
blow-dries Bam on gentle setting
“Spa day for brave bunnies!”
re-stitches the ear with purple thread while his child naps
EXTRA - DAD MOVE
secretly buys a duplicate Bam the same day
holds it to his own cheek first
whispering: “Protect them when I can’t.”
labels both with GPS trackers
Final Comfort
tucks the original Bam into his child’s arms
kisses their forehead
“Appa won’t lose him again. And even if he hides… we’ll always find our way back.”
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saltynsassy31 · 1 month ago
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I see in the Magnus/Swerve/Burr ask you briefly mention Blurr/Skids
Tell me everything /lh
👁 👁
DFKJFKJDK
Oh god why do the eyes look so much creepier on my computer than my phone wth- Okay, okay. I actually had to sit down for this one cuz how I even got to shipping them needs explaining a little XD
Leaving it all under the cut cuz this got LONG baby
Just know that there is a short fic drabble at the end if anyone's curiouse <333
So I'm working on this AU for Blurr/Swerve, mainly focusing on their fan kid. And - without going into too much detail - Skids becomes their kid's surrogate's sire because Blurr doesn't become involved until MUCH later on in the story
Skids... doesn't like Blurr all that much for many reasons, and kinda fights him a lot. But also was the driving force to have Blurr be involved in the kid's life (DON'T COME AT ME!!! I have my reasons why I went this direction that will be revealed and make more sense when I finish the story)
Anyway, I'm talking with my friend about this au as she helps me figure things out. And we start to talk about "what ifs" scenarios. One of them was "what if Swerve died?" And for more important context, there are two points of which he could have died, one being before Blurr met their kid and one waaaay after they already became conjunx. Regardless, in both these scenarios, Skids ends up being a bit of a support system for Blurr (one more than the other though).
Skids comes to see Blurr as family, too. Ricky (the kid's nickname, btw) wanted Blurr in his life, and Skids was going to make that happen one way or another, or try at the very least. It takes a lot for Blurr to gain Skids trust, but he comes around to caring for him eventually. And when Blurr is struggling with the life of a single parent, just like Swerve did beforehand, Skids isn't going to just sit and watch (that is part of his trauma, after all whole ass other discussion focusing more on just Skids-). I could go on for hours about these two scenarios, but it requires context for the au, and I'd love to rant about it (and I'm weak and would totally answer questions about the au if prompted-), but then at that point I just gotta sit my ass down and finish the god damn fic gjsldlsd.
Anyway
Because of this conversation, we were sorta forced to talk about their relationship more. And it helped in the grand scheme of things because Skids is a permanent part of this family unit, and they have to get along for it to work in the end, you can't remove Skids from it. And he also would never budge.
During this conversation, my friend started to point out a couple neat things.
Blurr is a Wrecker and Skids is Spec Ops, the two groups have been known to have some rivalry between them. Even though neither really hold these titles to much regard, it's still a neat little parallel for their rivalry;
Following that train of thought: Wreckers are usually seen as brutes, forceful in their ways of fighting. While Spec Ops are more calculated and tactile. The main reason they fight, really, they have too different of styles despite doing somewhat similar jobs. But, although both have their reasons and skills to be in each group, they still end up being the opposite of what you expect of them. Blurr is more calculated in the way he carries himself and doesn't (often) resort to violence first. Skids, on the other hand, seems to almost punch first, ask questions later, and becomes extremely violent when people he cares about are involved.
They kinda just mirror each other perfectly! Though this wasn't the final straw for me to start shipping them, it was the seeds plantet.
No, the thing that cracked me and made me start shipping them was thanks to a drabble I wrote on a whim to my friend when we were in a cuddling mood. We were discussing what would it take for Skids and Blurr to cuddle just the two of them, because by then, the only times they'd be involved together would be for Swerve and Ricky.
And my brain came up with said drabble, and by the end of it I was like "Awe shit, I ship them, don't I?"
They won't become canon in the AU, cuz I really want to focus on platonic love being just as important and as strong as romantic love. I need to spread my propaganda of friendship not being lesser than other relationships! Because it seems like you can't have a devoted friend without it being "siblinds" or "romantic" in stories, so I gotta fill my own agenda... But I'm not immune to ship propaganda either, and I totally see the potential of the two, even though they'd only ever interact in very specific scenarios because the two both die before even getting the chance of a proper interaction (seriously, they only even co-exist in the same space during issue 27, and that was when Blurr talked to Swerve and then dipped, Skids never once talked to the guy-).
But I guess that's crack ships for ya, born out of what ifs and roleplays. Take your pick XD.
Idk where else to add this in, but I just think they'd have the funniest dynamic too. They butt heads constantly, but unfortunetly are more similar than they bargain for, which causes them to fight more. But they also (annoyingly so) care for each other. I don't think they'd like each other at first and only tolerate each other if they were forced in a room together. But slowly grow accustomed to the other's presence and - dare I say - enjoy it.
Anyway, I'm not cruel, so I'm going to share the drabble I wrote that converted me and see if it changes anyone else's mind too, lol.
~~~
Basically they were at Blurr's place, getting the place ready for a surprise party for Ricky. Swerve was having a day out with Ricky while Skids and Blurr stayed back to set up the place. Blurr had called Skids to oversee what progress had been made, make sure it would be something to Ricky's enjoyment.
Before that, however, Blurr had been feverishly preparing things the day and night before wanting it to be perfect. And it showed.
After zipping across the livingroom area finishing up the finer details, he moved to the kitchen where he felt slightly dizzy and leaned on the counter while trying to rub away the exhaustion.
Skids had just been watching, unable to keep up fully with Blurr's speed and relegating to fixing his own corner. He walked in after Blurr in the kitchen. "Hey, you sure you need my help? Seems like you've got everything handled." He laughed slightly as he looked back, stopping once he gave a good once over at Blurr, smile dropping to a concerned frown. "Hey, you good, man? You don't look so hot."
Blurr jumped slightly, cursing to himself for not hearing Skids walk in and quickly straightened himself. "Oh yeah, I'm good. Just a little tired, is all. Might have overdone it." He waved at Skids dismissively, putting on a strained smile.
Skids wasn't reassured, his frown only deepening. He seemed to flick over a couple options in his mind before he strode over towards Blurr with new found determination. He took the speedster's rist in a firm, but gentle hold and tugged him forward.
"Uh, what are you-"
"We got 2 hours before the party actually starts, an hour and a half before guests arrive. I don't even know why you called me over when you have everything basically set up already. You can take a small break, no one wants a tired host."
Before Blurr could protest, he was being shoved towards the couch. He grumbled and made move to get up, but his efforts were thwarted by a heavy hand over his shoulder. "Rest."
"You can't seriously be asking I take a nap in the middle of preparations-"
"I am. And if you're not going to co-operate, then I'll have to use force."
"You wouldn't."
The smug smile on the superlearner's face told otherwise. "Try me."
Blurr glared and considered his options carefully. But it seems his hazy processor was slower than he would have liked or was comfortable with, because despite his fast movements, it lacked the coordination to accomplish his goal of freedom. And, before he knew it, he was being trapped by strong arms that pinned him against Broad chassis. The moment Blurr tried to make his escape, Skids had tighten his hold on his wrist as it slid away from Blurr's shoulder and pulled him back until he slammed against Skids.
With that, the larger mech, humming satisfied with his catch, sat back down oncthe couch with a squirming Blurr. "You're only making this harder on yourself, zippy."
"Don't call me that." Blurr huffed, but it lacked the usual bite.
Skids moved to a more comfortable position for the both of them without releasing his hold on Blurr. Tight, but not painful. It was almost reassuring.
"You really aren't letting me go, huh?"
"Not a chance. So do us both a favour and rest up. Don't worry, I'll wake you when it's time."
Blurr let out a dragged out, exasperated vent which soon followed up with suppressed exhaustion. He let his helm thunk against Skids chassis as he off-lined his optics, a small smile ghosting his lips.
Sure, he'll indulged Skids on this one.
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on-a-lucky-tide · 6 months ago
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Greetings, Father! I just wanted to come by to say I've been reading some of your fics again and 🤌 as always, I am blown away by how good it is. Genuinely, reading them always refresh my mind in some ways (?) cuz it's interesting and the dynamic and flow you do is just so vast and yet so very you.
I do have a question and you're free to answer this ask privately or dm or not, I don't mind xD I am curious on your thought process whenever you write smutty fics, what are the things you fuss over? or what are some things you do to keep the vibes going. For me personally, I don't write a lot of spicy stuff but when I do it's hard for me to really capture the raw need and intimacy a lot of the time (not to mention I have this issue where I like writing the buildup and tension than the actual intercourse part LMAO)
Have a good day/night ahead! o7 I've got a few things I wanna draw from your posts so stay tune too hehe :3
Your tags are always amazing; I wake up and read them over my morning coffee and eggs. So good when other fans of the same skrunkly arseholes love your work about said skrunkly arseholes.
Also, your writing is bloody brilliant. Like, the thing you wrote for Nekro? Blew my brain out. It was gorgeous.
As for the smut...
I use personal experience and what I focus on. I find human bodies very fuckin' sexy, even the bits that other people might think are gross (or they might be embarrassed by). The bits they get coy/shy about me touching, the most intimate parts of them. Yeah those are what I want and they're going in my mouth. Admiring all their unique bits, their freckles, the pattern of their hair, the scars and the stretch marks, their curves and bumps. Arousal, for me, should be represented as similar to hunger; instinctual. Because that's how it processes for me.
If you like the build up, then focusing on the sweet relief of it, the dirty talk - "finally got what you need, baby? does that feel good?" - and how that intimacy of being inside someone (or having them inside you), feeling their heartbeat, listening to their little moans, feeling them tense up involuntarily and wiggle cause it feels so good, watching their bodies give or flex into your hands.
I say "you" here. I can't write x reader, but... ya get the idea.
Write one character like they're starving and tucking into a buffet, I guess?
I have varying levels of "hunger" on the dial. I don't tend to get as visceral in longer works because of the "flow" of the narrative. Like, 15k of narrative and then a sudden 7k of one character gobbing on another's dick would be funny and jarring, but, eh.
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flightfoot · 1 year ago
Text
Marinette Completed Angst Fic Reclist
I know some people really like this genre, so I figured I'd make a list for it! These will obviously all be completed, and none of them will be bashing fics, and PLEASE don't rec any fics on this post that are bashing fics, I don't want to see them.
Some of these will have my own commentary about the fic attached to it, for if I've put them on a previous reclist where I had that commentary written out. But a lot of the older fics won't.
For a fic to count for this, the angst Marinette goes through can't just be her being upset about what someone else is going through, though the angst of the fic doesn't only need to be hers, so long as she has her own angst which is a decently prominent part of the fic.
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one does not love breathing by @wackus-bonkus-maximus
All of Paris watched as Hawkmoth murdered Chat Noir, taking the Black Cat Miraculous for himself. Ladybug swears revenge, but her enemy—and every miraculous in his possession—disappear without a trace.
Six years later, a new team of villains launches an attack for the last remaining Miraculous: Volpina, armed with new powers; Queen Bee, with questionable loyalty; Argos, the new holder of the Peacock Miraculous; and Cat Walker, who Ladybug hates the most.
Takes place after S4 - Strike Back.
This is a simply phenomenal fic. You get to explore a lot of different perspectives, like Felix, Kagami, Marinette, and Adrien’s, just to name a few, and see their different thought processes and plans and priorities, and how it can cause their plans to collide with each other, even when they all ultimately are aiming for a good outcome for everyone. The characters are pretty complex and can mess up at times, even when they’re doing things (or not doing things, looking at you Luka) with the best of intentions. It was a joy to read and a real nail-biter the whole time, I actually wrote a fic for it halfway through just to resolve some of the tension for myself, One Does Not Love Shadows.
It also features the version of Luka I’ve connected best with to date, as he feels like Luka, but also is a lot more fleshed out, and can make some major errors while simply trying to avoid missteps. It’s helped me get a better handle on a character who I’ve generally had a lot of problems with really understanding.
It is an M-rated fic, though I think Wackus is being overly cautious on that front. There’s no sexual content and I wouldn’t put the violence or gore above a T-rating, so I wouldn’t let the rating scare you off.
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you don’t even know me at all (but I was made for loving you) by @ladyofthenoodle
They didn’t remember each other. The hospital told them there’d been an accident—brain damage—but Alya had told them the truth, later. Who’d they’d been to each other. What they’d given up, and why. But even with their memories of each other gone, Adrien and Marinette are still inextricably tied together—by law, by their social circles, and by their hearts. And in the apartment they share, there’s only one bed.
Yep, it’s the “there was only one bed” trope XD! I especially love how it was used here, how Adrien and Marinette are strangers now but they had a whole life together, and they pine for each other even without remembering, and how Marinette just can’t believe how in love with her Adrien is even though he doesn’t remember her. I loved the emotional turmoil the two of them went through together in the fic, and the resolution, it’s great!
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fine line by @bbutterflies
“Catwalker?” Loveybug asks. “Hmm?” “Do you remember… what happened before us?” “What do you mean?” “Before we were heroes. Was there someone else?” Catwalker goes quiet for a moment. “I don’t know,” he finally says.
This is a surprisingly angsty take on the Loveybug AU. Here, since the Loveybug and Cat Walker transformations are so unnatural, they’re having negative side effects on Marinette and Adrien, causing them to be constantly exhausted and even to get amnesia the longer they continue using them.
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do you think I have forgotten about you? by @roseinaugust
Based on the song ‘About You’ by The 1975. Memory Loss. Told in alternating time lines, one leading up to and one dealing with the aftermath of Marinette relinquishing the Miracle Box and the guardianship. Marinette struggles with her life after losing her memory, though there is a persistent voice that calls to her that always seems just out of reach in her memory.
Beautiful memory loss fic here, with seeing Ladybug’s and Chat Noir’s relationship before she gave up the Miracle box, juxtaposed with the present day, when Adrien is only a stranger to her. I could really feel how Marinette was struggling with navigating these new circumstances, with her friends seeming to expect her to remember, to be who she was to them, to Adrien especially, before, and her just… not knowing whether she can do that. It’s got a happy ending though, for those who are concerned about that.
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Our Tales Are Endless (That’s Why I Tell Them) by @joonapeach
Marinette lives a simple life - one surrounded by pretty dresses, fresh macaroons, and the calming view of Paris. It’s a life she thinks she has always fit in. And yet sometimes, when a certain boy comes by her shop with a flower and a new adventurous story, she can’t help but wonder if there’s something else she’s missing.
This was a truly gorgeous story. It’s the classic “Marinette gives up the Miracle Box and loses her memories” storyline, exploring her life two years later. Even though she’s had time to heal and recover, she still feels like she’s missing something, something big. At least Adrien’s stopping by regularly to tell her stories about Ladybug and Chat Noir, even if she doesn’t understand why they resonate with her so well.
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I (Wish I) Knew You by @buggachat
University has been hard on Marinette. Making new friends and maintaining her grades is a lot easier said than done when she has to disappear at odd times to fight akumas. She's struggling, and with Alya away with family and Adrien painfully out of reach, she's never felt lonelier.
If only she could talk to someone who really understood her struggles... but it's not like Chat Noir would know anything about loneliness. Right?
Nice aged-up Ladynoir fic here! Marinette’s struggling with losing friends and lovers because of her flakiness due to her superhero activities, until at last she breaks down. Thankfully, Chat Noir’s there at least - and it soon turns out he’s got problems of his own that he’s been hiding.
There’s some fluff and angst, it’s mostly just the two of them navigating life, dealing with their feelings and talking things out.
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If I Let Myself Love You by @uptoolateart
It’s hard to be a normal girl with a normal life when your mother has terminal cancer. And when fashion model Adrien Agreste moves back to Paris and wants to be Marinette’s friend – or maybe even more – her life is turned upside down again.
How can she risk opening her heart to love when her whole world is falling apart? Especially when Adrien is hiding a dark secret of his own….
- COMPLETE FIC – updates on Sundays
*** No kwamis AU - 100% Adrinette. About half of it is fluffy and half heavy. Please read tags for trigger warnings. ***
This fic can be rough, definitely pay attention to the tags. There’s no villains in this story, it mostly centers around themes of dealing with illness - both being sick and having a loved one who’s terminally ill - and death, grieving someone who’s lost, and how difficult that can be. It can get pretty gut-wrenching at times, especially as you slowly discover more layers of what’s really going on, what both Adrien and Marinette are hiding, both from others and from themselves in order to help cope with their circumstances. But they still move forwards together, regardless.
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Between the Heavens and the Embers by @readersmoon
Everyone in Paris remembers the fateful night of January 16, when the city was attacked by the most powerful and destructive akuma ever created. The assault, which lasted for hours, resulted in the death of 439 people.
Marinette Dupain-Cheng was among the casualties.
Years later, Adrien hasn't been able to move on, haunted by the memories of her broken body. So, when the opportunity to leave Paris for a while presents itself, he doesn't hesitate. But this trip might end up giving him more than he ever dreamt of.
This is a fantastic fic, though a serious and a dark one - make sure to mind the tags, and it’s M-rated for a reason. Vee - or rather, Marinette - is going through a horror story here. Imagine finding out that your life is a lie, that everyone you thought you could trust was manipulating you, that you were just being continually gaslit for years. 
As for Adrien, Alya, and Nino... well, none of them took Marinette’s “death” all that well, especially Adrien. Finding out that she’s been alive all this time, in these horrible circumstances, and they had no clue... it’s hard on them as well.
I love how this fic goes into how much trauma everyone has even after the immediate danger’s dealt with, you don’t just walk off this kind of experience, especially with how many years this lasted.
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in case you don’t know me tomorrow by @thelibraryloser:
“We live in a crazy world where pieces of our lives can be erased like they never even happened. I just wanted to memorize this moment so… so I could keep it, if that makes sense.”
Adrien’s heart gave a little flutter. She wanted to keep this moment, meeting him. She wanted to keep… him.
“I understand exactly what you mean.“
In a world that has created a way to selectively delete memories, no moment is truly safe. So how do you hold on to something when the memory of it is gone? And how do you keep fighting for someone when you’re the only one who remembers?
This is a SEVERELY underrated fic. It’s got some shades of “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” in the world, though the plot is very different - the memory erasure ain’t willing. 
Basically, the first few chapters are establishing Adrien’s and Marinette’s romance, and then the rest of the fic is dealing with Gabriel being an absolute DICK and using any means at his disposal to break them apart. It’s fantastic and I highly recommend reading it!
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hella enchanted by @xiueryn:
Years ago, Marinette’s father died and she was left with her awful stepmother. With magic forcing her to obey every command, she lived as a servant and gave up hope. When a man appears, searching for the very fairy that blessed her, Marinette decides to give life one more try. AU.
(a different ella enchanted au.)
Even though it’s a one-shot this one is pretty long, clocking in at over 30k words. Absolutely worth a shot, though. The first third is basically Marinette dealing with being pushed around because of her “blessing”, and the other two-thirds is just some adorable fluff of her and Adrien touring the country together. 
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Echoes of You by kittinoir
In the day time, she's Marinette - a normal girl, with a normal life. A normal girl, with a normal life. A normal girl, with... Not Season 4 Compliant; please, no spoilers
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balancing act by fictionalinfinity
“Besides, being Ladybug always came first. It came before school, friends, and sometimes even family. Now it had to come before her health. Marinette had a duty to Paris. She wouldn’t let them down.” Or, being both Ladybug and the Guardian starts to take its toll on Marinette. - the epilepsy au literally no one asked for
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Some Days by @merrygreenie
Some days are worse, and others are a little better, little by little and day by day. Marinette Dupain-Chen is learning how to live her new normal after living in confinement and being tortured by Hawkmoth. She is thankful to have her friends and family to support her. And a very special Chat who loves her very much. *This story contains scenes of violence and torture this is a whump fic*
This fic has some great angst, but be warned, it's not kidding about the violence and torture. Honestly, it should probably be rated M instead of Teen, given that while the fic mostly takes place after Marinette escapes and while she's recovering, we do get a detailed flashback to her torture.
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criminal-sen · 7 months ago
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Hello!! Going back to that post about being ok with people asking you about your fic... can I? 🙏 I'm gonna 🫣
So when I first found Imperfect, I hadn't watched Bleach in... dunno... 10-15 years?? Gawd don't wanna think about it. So, I'd forgotten a lot of stuff, and I hadn't finished the last 3-4 seasons. So I thought a lot of stuff you wrote about was canon, and when I rewatched it all for the upcoming 3rd part of tybw, I was like... so when are you guys gonna mention this??
But anyway, focusing on the actual question, how did you come up with all the little details about Mayuri? Like the way he talks to AJ in their own internal world, the microdosing of Super Human drug in daily life and they way it feels, the ability to smell pheromones... it makes the story, which is already awesome, much more realistic to me. It's almost like he wrote it himself, it's so, so enjoyable. Love it sm, you already know 😊
Anyway, no pressure to answer, just been thinking about it for a while and thought I'd chance it!
Aw that's so cool u mistook my stuff for canon, I feel like it's Highest Honor for ff to be believable enough to trick someone>:3c Tho I'm sure it was kinda frustrating too, sorry for that haha (and I've also been fooled so I very much understand the feeling)
Future Sen here: when I say I'm long-winded, this is what I'm talking about. This is like.. the textbook definition of Verbose. So under a cut it goes, have fun with soooooo many words:D
Hmm so the microdosing Superhuman Drug just popped into my head right before I wrote it in (chapter... 5? I think? Where he's sitting in the hotel after a flashback), I think I was having a bit of a conundrum on how he could sit there and have such a long and detailed flashback in such a short time? And before I could do the obvious fix of having more time pass, as literally nothing was at stake time-wise, I remembered the Superhuman Drug exists. And the more I thought about it, the more sense it made for him to use it, to the point where I choose believe it's canon unless proven otherwise XD Like you can't tell me someone whose whole thing is Thinking wouldn't jump at the opportunity to do more of it in less time. As for the way it feels, hmmm idk, I just thought real hard and made it up. All we know from canon is what he explained to Szayel, and what Szayel experienced, which is just. Brain thinks faster, making time feel as though it's passing slower. And od'ing on it is Real Bad💀
Hheeeehooo What Next>:3 (btw im having a blast rn, ty for giving me a free pass to be sooooo long winded about this very niche thing XD) Right, Jizo communication here we go>:33333 So him talking to Jizo was based on what I read in a wiki about the Zanpakuto... rebellion arc? I think it's called (could definitely be wrong)? Where everyone's zanpakuto spirit is running amok? I just remember reading he didn't speak. And though I have mixed feels about the design (hence he is Moth in my fic XD), him not speaking really made sense to me. He just seems like such a fucked up little guy🤔 Like.. okay so I've mentioned this briefly in a chapter preface but want to elaborate... so I strongly believe he consents to being modified, cuz even Mayuri would probably have a hard time wielding a zanpakuto that fucking hates him. Which means he's loyal (arguably to a fault) and trusts Mayuri to do very fucked up and painful things to him. Which, to be fair, Mayuri does equally painful and fucked up things to his own body.. and that makes me wonder if Jizo isnt merely consenting but is of the same mind about this fuckery? Like idk if I can even say this in a way that makes sense🤦‍♂️ but I like to think they share this no-holds-barred, nothing-is-sacred delight for experimenting on themselves. Like Jizo is also a mad scientist in all but name>:3 (I decided on this version bc it Fucks Severly imho, but also bc it's FAR less depressing than the overly-trusting, Stockholm syndrome one, like i cannot deal with writing something that sad tbfh) Anyway, regardless of which version, he is an intensely weird Creachure. And I just can't fathom him saying fucking.. anything... that would even remotely make sense to anyone but Mayuri??? And the telepathy thing just fits Mayuri's whole.. fast thinking, Big Brain vibe. If a zanpakuto were to impart information to him through words, I can see him tapping his foot like GET TO THE POINT>:(
Lastly, the pheromone thing.. haha well this one's pretty short (future Sen here, i am a liar! It is not short😬) - I borrowed it from another ff. It's that one I mentioned at the end of.. who knows which chapter... Quantum Mechanics by Illegitimi (no link, sorry, might put one after i post)... which was Mayuri/Isane, and which I loved So Much back in the day, despite hetero romance being kind of a fuckin.. icky vibe for me in regards to Mayuri. No problem with it fyi, just usually wouldn't choose to read about it. Ugh I'm talking too much about it already but I have changed a LOT since.. 2016? Give or take? And I don't think I could stand it nowadays for a whole bunch of reasons. But. BUT. It was very well written and had some very cool hcs for him that I've clung onto. The pheromone one just fits him - if he could sharpen his ability to sense something, ofc he'd do it - plus it's very fun for romance and smut reasons, which is undoubtedly why the author thought of it. They also had that scar across his nose, though iirc it was kinda squiggly and not the upside down V that I made up. In my defense though, there's a lot I didn't borrow from that fic, too. Some highlights: Mayuri practiced feng-shui (like he'd spend his precious Sciencing time to do smth like that smh) he had these absolutely luxurious captains quarters, complete with a whole fancy bathhouse, like there was a waterfall and shit nsvdhshdv (I'll admit this was quite fun in the ff but i obviously interpret his quarters a lot differently)... and, last one I mention I promise😬 his paint rubbed off easily, big reason why I changed it tbfh cuz it immediately didn't make sense to me, like his hands especially? Is that different paint than the rubbing off paint? Or does he leave paint on every surface he touches, and discreetly wipe it up and reapply before anyone notices???? Expmain yourself, ff writer😤 jk jk it was really good for what it was, and I still very much appreciate it for helping me form my version<3
Omfg I really... shit what time is it😭 (over an hour, I've been sitting here for over an HOUR jesus fucking.. goddamn) Okay well I don't get to blab v often about this stuff, and it turns out I have a LOT of words in me today! So it was a perfect storm😩 Well I hope this was enlightening, thanks sm for the ask, it was a very fun hour lol. And sorry for the uhhh. the amount of words:p
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colourfulshadows · 9 months ago
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Thinking about The Drop™ again. Long and weird post, sorry, with a thought experiment more than a real theory I guess. Wrote this at 3 am when I couldn't sleep xD
I'm not going to argue that Lestat's abuse toward Louis (and Claudia, but focusing on Louis in this) is OOC in general. In fact, I think it fits his character, his impulsiveness and works with the themes of "being a monster" and his abandonment issues triggering that behaviour (I'm not excusing his behaviour, just trying to explain it).
But
The Drop?
(CW for SA)
I know I know that Lestat even acknowledged it himself during the trial (well, the lestat from louis's retelling) and I'm not saying that Louis is lying that Lestat did abuse him to that extent. But the drop feels OOC for me. Sometimes I wonder if it's all a metaphor for another similar horrid thing Lestat might have done instead. Because there's this thing with him not possessing the cloud gift at that point in the books.
I have that thought that maybe... What if Lestat SA'd Louis? And Louis didn't feel safe to tell Daniel that after hearing how Daniel spoke about Claudia in that context? Who knows the books, knows that Lestat canonically SA'd someone. It would recontextualise a lot. The flying in S1E1 during lovemaking? A metaphor for part of the sex, maybe even subspace. Louis letting his rage/revenge at Lestat out through violent hate sex with *stabbing* of all things? Louis looks almost dissociated during sex in the "distracting Lestat so Claudia can plot" phase but not during kisses etc. Then there's the way Louis doms Armand later.
What if actual flying = something very intimate in the show (yes well I don't think it's far fetched to think Santiago would be an exhibitionist then). Armand having to fly up to fetch books for Louis. Armand's aerobic evening in the back of the theatre. Armand flying up the stairs before revealing his past to Louis. Armand descending from the bookcases in "no pain" after rashid left, but showing Daniel is all right (could be wrong with the order of events in that scene though).
Armand makes Daniel fly and crash on the ground in 1973 and afterwards Daniel has this extra haunted expression.
I'm probably overthinking everything. I don't think that's actually canon. I just like to analyse and theorise. It's crazy and far fetched and has plot holes but that tiny corner of my brain is saying "but what if it's not?"
If we were still on the internet of 2010 I'd say "thank you for reading all this, here's a cookie *gives cookie*"
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Notions of a Madman... an aftermath.
I hope you don't mind @croissantlover24 I wrote a very little story of my version of an after story for your amazing fic Notions of a Madman. I needed jus a little more closure but I didn't change the outcome (unfortunately TwT) alt title notions of a sad man XD
Go read their story first SPOILERS AHEAD you have been warned! no actually this will probably ruin everything.
You didn’t forgive him…
How could you forgive him? He can’t even forgive himself. You just... just like that... no.. you can’t be gone… you can’t. Can you? Humans are just so fragile… he’d almost forgotten you were one of them, was that it? His mistake?
You… there was so much he wanted to show you, so many projects to work on with you, so many more times to make you jump… he loved teasing you like that... maybe he could have made you laugh one day? a real heartfelt laugh, or smile, if his machine worked you could have been happy as his assistant, forever.
He stares into the distances blankly as the ring of the monitor fills his robotic ears. 
Doctors and nurses rush in to do the last checks making sure there really was nothing they could do to reverse his fatal mistake and then they finally and officially pronounce your death.
Their looks of disgust usually unfazed him but... He didn't mean to… it really was an accident… no one will ever belive him, nor do they care... he didn't want to hurt you, he wasn't proud of this; And for once he wasn't fasinated by death or the blood and brains that had littered his Laboratory.
How on earth could he expect you to forgive him? 
Why couldn’t these useless doctors do their damn job right?! If he had more time, you could learn to forgive him, he could do more tests and fix his machine… everything could be ok? better then ok, it could be perfect.
If only he had done more tests to begin with. If only he had done more calculations. more work, something anything. If only you weren’t scared. If only you didn’t want to leave. If only... she hadn’t…
He scowls at the woman… her arms crossed like she both has no worries at all and the whole world weighing her shoulders down all at once. 
“This is your fault!” he screamed. “If YOU hadn’t scared them this would have never happened. They would still be here! They would still be mine."
“Keep telling yourself that.” she just turned and started walking. “It’s never an accident with you.” she mumbled as she left.
“IT WAS! FOR ONCE...for once it... It actually... it really was…” he sobbed.
If it wasn’t for the handcuffs holding him back he would have followed her and ripped her head off himself, it would be about time; he thought to himself. He should have tested that darn machine on her.
If only things went differently. 
The room was now empty, they had wheeled you out as he sat there cuffed to a chair that was bolted to the ground. As soon as your monitor went blank Vanessa and her officers had secured him down. He probably could just escape if he had the energy... the want.
You were his only friend. He would give everything to go back to the day you met, on that… was it a fall day? the sanguineous colored leaves falling from the trees… his stupid sign that actually worked… if he could do things just a little difrently... Wait! Next he could make a time machine and go back and fix it all!
No… Who is he kidding, where would he get the parts for that without his gullible little lamb? 
It took a moment but he’d actually given up. There was nothing else to do. No way to fix this.
Vanessa had all the evidence she needed... and had him transported to a high security prison where he could rot until the end of time. He would never forgive himself as long as you would never forgive him, and you were dead so how could he ever change your mind now? Unless? No you really were gone. He forgets that sometimes, a wish maybe or simply delusion, he sometimes belives he's still in his lab asking you to pass him this or fetch him that, maybe he really is a madman? or maybe he always was...
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choccy-zefirka · 4 months ago
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20 Questions for Writers!
Thank you @sky-scribbles for tagging me, made me feel warm and fuzzy on a long and tough day :D I will tag @leadflowers and @ziskandra
How many works do you have on ao3?
Currently 76! I used to have about 200 on my old account but I nuked it to give myself a fresh start and a break from hate comments.
What’s your total ao3 word count?
248,265
What are your top five fics by kudos?
The Ending of Words: Elder Scrolls Online, Sotha Sil x Reader, 119 Kudos
Brain Damage: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, Entrapta x Hordak, 83 Kudos
A Luxury: Mass Effect, custom F!Shepard x Javik, 78 Kudos
Rare and Radiant: Dragon Age the Veilguard, custom F!Rook x Emmrich Volkarin, also 78 Kudos
Mister Monster: Skyrim, Gen, 76 Kudos
What fandoms do you write for?
Right now, Warhammer 40K Rogue Trader (where yet another old man has bewitched me body and soul), plus Dragon Age! All of my other fandoms, like Baldur's Gate 3, Elder Scrolls, Mass Effect or Cyberpunk 2077, are also very dear to my heart, so you never know when I might return to them!
Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
I do! :D I get very few comments, possibly because I tend to restrict commenting to registered users only (to avoid being flamed as we old hags say), but it gives me the time and space to respond to everyone!
What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
As He Lay Dying — which is actually one of the very first fics I ever wrote in English over 10 years ago, and then edited and reuploaded to celebrate Skyrim's anniversary! It depicts the last moments of Archmage Savos Aren, as he hallucinates his dead friends being alive again. Early 20s me was so edgy XD
Among the more "modern fics", there's also Red Lullaby, which is set in Dragon Age Inquisition's "dark future" alternative timeline and ends in one of the POV characters succumbing to red lyrium (she'll be fine tho, her sad dad will show up and undo another sad dad's mess).
I do have a penchant for writing fics where Character A thinks Character B is dead, but that's, likewise, just temporary angst!
What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Most of my fics tend to have happy or at least hopeful endings these days, because there's only so much heartbreak I can have in the real world. However, I would like to single out Geth Bearing Gifts, which is my fix-it for the Mass Effect ending! Shepard may be Going Through It (including memory loss), but she's alive, *and* so are EDI and the Geth and all her friends!
Do you get hate on fics?
Not recently, no; I get silly anons sometimes, but in the grand scheme of things they are more of my little jesters than the destroyers of self-esteem they used to be.
Do you write smut?
Yes! I do however have to frame it in a million words of preamble and character study :')
Do you write crossovers?
I used to have a sprawling Dragon Age/Skyrim crossover fic, but it now rests in Oblivion with my old account. As does my little "Liam Kosta gets his family car back via a weird flying blue box" Andromeda ficlet, it was kinda cute.
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
I don't think so! I do feel like the fandom applies the word "stolen" way too broadly sometimes, taking it to mean "having the same character concepts" or "taking inspiration from one another". I love inspiring people; if you start shipping the same rarepairs as me, my day, nay my entire life, will be made!
Have you ever had a fic translated?
Not that I recall! I did translate another person's fic from russian into English though!
Have you ever cowritten a fic before?
No, but I have had fic trades and roleplay sessions!
What’s your all time favourite ship?
As of right now, Emmrook from Dragon Age the Veilguard! It has all the story beats I previously had to merely headcanon for non-existent character relationships!
What’s the wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
I switched to writing one-shots precisely to avoid this problem!
What are your writing strengths?
After over twenty years of study, I have made the English language my bitch. I juggle present and past tense forms like it's nobody's business. I drive my point home with poetic repetitions. I weave huge complex sentences and then pepper them with choppy, short ones in between. And I thrive on it!
What are your writing weaknesses?
I'd say that I have a very limited number of tropes and ship dynamics that I explore over and over again... But you know what? My only payment for this is serotonin. And these two or three specific staples — particularly old people finding second love, and bi4bi m/f couples where the dude is a total wifeguy — give me serotonin!
Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?
Uhhh, is this meant to be controversial? I don't have any thoughts, I am sure there are occasions that call for this!
First fandom you wrote for?
Regrettably, I think it was Harry Potter. I was maybe 16 at the time and all about Remus Lupin with a dash of Severus Snape; maturing and getting disillusioned in JKR aside, not much has changed about my tastes honestly.
Favourite fic you’ve ever written?
Probably Je Vous Promets, a ficlet establishing future bonding between my beloved Yvie Lavellan (aka Kader on her mama's side) and a still bitter and imprisoned magister Alexius. My pixel daughter is very precious, and the old man won't know what hit him!
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floating-in-the-blue · 4 months ago
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20 Questions for Fanfiction Writers
@hot-elf thank youuuuu for tagging me, hunny! <3
1). How many works do you have on AO3?
96. I hope I can get that up to 100 by the end of this year
2). What’s your total AO3 word count?
397,297
3). What are your top five fics by kudos?
Will You (Julie and the Phantoms, 425 kudos)
Stormy Nights and Comforts Bright (Red, White & Royal Blue, 305 kudos)
In Your Starlight (JatP, 258 kudos)
Home is Where My Ghost is (JatP, 257 kudos)
Silent Souls (Fantastic Beasts, 251 kudos)
4). What fandoms do you write for?
Julie and the Phantoms is my main fandom, although I dabble in Red, White & Royal Blue occasionally (ie. more than I expected).
Past ones: Metal Gear Solid, Stargate Atlantis, Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries, Iron Man (+ the occasional visit in a handful of others)
5). Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
Yes. I think it's just good manners to say "thank you" when someone said "I liked your fic". I'm not a YouTube/Insta influencer girl. I'm not here for followers, I'm here for community. And I've found some of my best (fandom) friends via comment section conversations.
That being said, I've definitely had times where it was difficult because of brain fog or guilt at not having finished a story or because the comment was actually so overwhelmingly wonderful I would get too emotional every time I tried to answer. It's a form of socialising and takes socialising energy, which is not always at hand. But I'm working on reducing the pile of shame and I got it down to 12 now that I still need to respond to. (Though some of those are placeholders (aka replies to comments I wrote) as reminders to go back and finish reading/commenting a fic)
6). What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Breathe [Extended] (Metal Gear Solid) is very angsty throughout although the ending is kind of hopeful in a teeth-gritting determined kind of way so I don't know if it really counts. But until I post my magnum opus/white whale of a fic, Nature 2.0 (also MGS), I think it's still the best choice because everything else has happy endings.
PS: oh, I thought of a small mini JatP one shot, that's pretty angsty in a way though too short actually to have any proper beginning and ending ...
7). What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
All the rest XD But let's go with In Your Starlight because the ending has that bouncy kind of optimism and hope for the future that always makes me smile.
8). Do you get hate on fics?
Not much, thankfully only one truly upset me.
There was one instance of anon hate I got via tumblr message on a genderbent MGS story, which was written for a prompt my giftee gave me, so not even really my idea. It accused me of transphobia for some reason but it was so laughable, I ignored it.
And then there was, of course, a dark moment in the JatP fandom where every writer who dared to write smut was put on a blacklist and accused of pedophile tendencies, which was definitely NOT fun, despite the outpour of love and support that elicited.
9). Do you write smut?
As seen above, yes I do write smut. I don't do it too often these days and I don't want it to be the only thing I write (although that's totally legit and I know several writers who do it splendidly, @hot-elf included). But I'm pretty happy with every one of the sex scenes I've written so far.
10). Do you write crossovers?
The first fanfic I ever started to write (as a wee teen without a clue), was actually a massive crossover (2x Star Trek, Star Wars, Stargate, X-files and probably more I've forgotten about now) but I haven't done it much or seriously since.
I've read excellent crossovers but so far, I've never been tempted tp write one.
11). Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not that I know of. I'm happy about that of course but I remember when someone on Wattpad stole several smutty JatP stories and mine weren't among those and I was almost insulted mine hadn't been chosen XD
But nah, on the whole: PLEASE DON'T STEAL MY FICS!
12). Have you ever had a fic translated?
Yes! Silent Souls (Fantabi) got translated: Silent Souls (Vietnamese translation). I can't say anything about the translation since I don't know any Vietnamese but I was very flattered (even though I don't think many people read it)
13). Have you ever cowritten a fic before?
Kinda. I haven't sat down and actually written a fic with someone (though I tried once until we both kind of lost interest) but I have turned two truly massive and epic RPGs I wrote with @textualpoacher (Iron Man & MGS) into fics with her (or we started to, at least). I haven't given up hope yet to finish them some day but it's not a priority in any way (and I first need to dig out the files from ancient computers).
It's why I count Iron Man as one of the major fandoms I wrote for even though that's not reflected on AO3. Because we posted the fic on ff.de and had written much more than posted, so it was very dominant in my life for quite a while.
14). What’s your all-time favorite ship?
Impossible to answer. There's too many and I love them all.
The major ships I've written for though are: Tony Stark/Pepper Potts (Iron Man), David 'Solid Snake'/Hal 'Otacon' Emmerich (MGS), Alex Mercer/Wille (JatP), Phryne Fisher/Jack Robinson (MFMM), Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Too-Many-Names (RWRB)
Ships I haven't written for but that are extremely dear to me: Richard Castle/Katherine Beckett, Willow Rosenberg/Tara Mclay (Buffy), Willow Rosenberg/Oz (Buffy), Buffy Summers/Spike (Buffy), Wesley Wyndham-Price/Winifred 'Fred' Burkle (Angel), Shallan Davar/Kaladin/Adolin Kholin (Stormlight), Samantha Carter/Jack O'Neill (Stargate), Leia Organa/Han Solo (Star Wars), Artemis Entrer/Jarlaxle (R. A. Salvatore's D'n'D books), ...
15). What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
Nature 2.0 (MGS). ALTHOUGH I WILL NOT ABANDON ALL HOPE!!!
The story is too complex and ambitious and research- and plot-heavy for my current skill levels (and my current time/focus/etc) but it's also my dream project that I would very much LIKE to finish one day.
Even less likely (though also a dream project), I guess, is the Victorian Stargate Atlantis AU I started. Same problems apply. At least I never posted anything of that on AO3. Just in a private forum that no longer exists.
16). What are your writing strengths?
Hm ... characters, emotions, descriptions, metaphors, humour (and occasionally smut)
17). What are your writing weaknesses?
PLOT!!! Also action scenes (I think, I've mostly been too afraid to try them plus they usually require plot which I also suck at).
Not technically writing but part of the process and definitely a weakness: research! Hate it.
(you see why those dream projects are still dreams rather than actual projects)
Idiomatic character speech + giving characters distinctive narrative voices.
And as a non-native speaker I honestly don't care enough about the distinctions between British and American English.
18). Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?
Tricky. If it makes sense for the character, yes but there should always be a translation either in the end notes or an explanation in the fic itself. And if it's more than a word or sentence, I wouldn't do it and instead do that bit as a 'telll' not 'show' thing and summarise the dialogue because otherwise it gets boring pretty quickly for someone who doesn't speak that language.
And there's two pitfalls of course: a monolingual person trying to write a bilingual person and/or a person writing a language they don't properly know and then having readers who do. Can get awkward.
19). First fandom you wrote for?
That massive crossover mentioned above so: like five at once? XD
The first thing I posted online was, of all things, a one shot for Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along blog, which, I think, nobody read. I didn't write anything for that fandom again ;D
20). Favorite fic you’ve ever written?
Why would you ask me to choose between my children??? *wails*
... I tried to narrow it down by fandom but even that doesn't work! How do people answer this??? I'm bisexual, I can't choose between things for the life of me!! (I'm also forever baffled by people with favourite movies, shows, books etc like HOW? THERE'S SO MANY OF THEM AND SO MANY OF THEM ARE GREAT!)
GHJKLKJHGF ..... okay.
Have Dear Dave. A MGS fic I'm still super proud of even though there's things I would add/alter if I wrote it today. But there's a physical copy of that fic on my shelf and I've been told it's got at least a little notorierty in the fandom as a destroyer of hearts. Tears have been shed over this fic, including the fake ones on the physical journal (though making the coffee stains was more fun).
___
inflicting this with no-pressure tagging on: @innytoes, @onlygenxhere, @jonairadreaming, @thatbitchmabel, @chanihobbit, @kbstories
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murfpersonalblog · 1 year ago
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IWTV S2 Ep8 Musings - Loumand (Spoilers)
This was so effed up, wow; I'm FURIOUS with Armand, even though I've been expecting this from him since Season 1. Cuz the ish he said just never lined up right; the most unreliable narrator's been Armand the whole time! Louis' brain is scrambled, but at least he's SINCERE. But THIS mofo has been deliberately LYING since JUMP.
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Longest divorce proceedings ever--took 77 years, dang. Armand said it was the night Madeleine was turned--Mr. They Gave Me A Choice. I Chose. But that's a effing lie, too!
Cuz in Ep6, BEFORE Louis even told Armand he was gonna turn Madz, Santiago was busy committing all those "strange crimes reported;" climbing the Eiffel Tower to wake up Lestat, and breaking into cinemas to steal their color film reels for the Trial's projector.
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They threw Sam under the bus as if HE wrote effed up Trial script--but THIS was when they actually started writing it--with ARMAND's input & direction.
But I'm jumping ahead.
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WTF is going on here?! O_O Is this a human the Theatre keeps around for the plays, zoned out so they stay alive until they're on stage? So Armand's punishment is the shame of having to feed the "cattle"? And HOW MANY nights was Lou in there? :(
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Louis was locked up for over a MONTH!? 😨 While Armand just SAT THERE?!
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Lou's not screaming from starvation, MORON--he starved himself for YEARS. His DAUGHTER is DEAD.
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The frame of Paul is wild--Louis was ready to end it all. U_U He didn't want to be "rescued"--he wanted his baby girl back. "What was left to endure for?"
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Man's a consummate actor--everything you're about to see is FAKE.
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A "sacrifice" for the "god" Armand serves, eh? (AMC got my guy out here sucking on rocks, omg. XD I hope they taste like chips or popcorn or something.)
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Louis CONSTANTLY shushing people on this show, I love it!
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LIES. Lou's WAY too good for Armand; I'd've been like SURPRISE! 🔥 "My rage and madness were asleep--" chile. You loved Armand, and thought he'd cared enough to save you, which is why you were able to swallow that weak AF I Could Not Prevent It excuse from a 500 yr old vamp.
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Daniel is on the hunt! I LOVE how they're introducing Raglan like he's just some kindly ole assistant/researcher/editor. Honey, you've got a big storm coming! "Reciprocation"--Daniel's a vampire now, so you KNOW Raglan's gonna start cashing in them I-O-Us from Dan! 💀
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77 years later.... 😬
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200 years is a mighty long time to maintain a relationship built on death threats, power imbalances, and lies.
Lestat was right--even 77 years was a effing miracle--extra time bought at the price of Louis' memories being oh-so-conveniently erased.
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THEY rehearsed it--LIE. There Armand goes, deflecting culpability.
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Louis sleeping in Claudia's coffin, stop, my feels. U_U
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Omfg Armand; of COURSE you don't remember the last thing y'all said to e/o in Paris b4 y'all left Lestat to travel Egypt--but you can "remember" alllll this other bullcrap, eh?
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So they've already done Trinity Gate?
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BY ALL MEANS. EXPOSE THEM.
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Not Sam being in Daftpunk, y'all need to stop IMMEDIATELY. (But now I know wtf was going on in the Season 3 announcement--I was so confused why they were mentioning Sam!)
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ARMAND told the coven to let the audience read Claudia's diaries and VIOLATE her body (of work), omfg 😱
Mr Frankenstein disrespected her at EVERY turn!
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I could forgive spitting over "Come to Me" and how Loustat met in NOLA, but I draw the line at spitting at adding the animation of Lestat killing that dear sweet racoon! XD
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Armand had the NERVE to look away when they bum-rushed Claudia & Louis with the Mind Gift.
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"It's their turn to hurt--" ARMAND said he didn't think Louis would love him for 200 years, so he SOLD THEM TF OUT--to DIE.
They were HOBBLING AROUND WITH GASHED ANKLES, LAUGHED at, and stuffed in RAT BOXES! And ARMAND was in on the whole thing!
This is WILD, AMC, y'all are sick for this, but I love it!
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Is DANIEL using Armand's "slave name" and abusing him, y'all? HUH? It's all BULLCRAP--Armand's BEEN in control, with all the real power the WHOLE. EFFING. TIME.
EFF what you call him, or whatever kinky ROLES he PLAYS.
ARMAND decides who lives and dies, as THE coven master--eff who's called Maitre!
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Armand was gonna let Lou DIE. "He just took credit for it when the opportunity presented itself." Wow.
He let Louis suffer in that crypt for over a MONTH before he FINALLY had a change of hear/conscience and pulled him out!
And even then he wasn't gonna go WITH Louis--he expected Louis to flee Paris! ALONE.
He stayed with Louis cuz Louis destroyed his whole effing coven! Who else did Armand HAVE but Louis after that? HE CHOSE THE COVEN.
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Poor dear; he wasn't held enough between ritualistic fledgling executions. 🙄😒 "We are teachers of one another! Louis, everything that gives you happiness gives me...." WHAT? What does it give you, Armand? (I cannot WAIT for S3 to do more DM, cuz I've been HATING Armand connected in any way to Louis & Claudia. I don't like not liking Armand; he's my fave book character! But AMC's bound & determined to make me spit every time he starts talking.)
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Excellent grounds to get the house, the dog, the Farm, Damek, AND Rashid in the divorce! XD
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And this gremlin's got the audacity to STILL be lying, even when caught LITERALLY red-handed with his notes to Santiago in the effing margins--meanwhile CLAUDIA was CONDEMNED TO DEATH for premeditating Lestat's death in HER written diaries--which ARMAND had passed around like candy at his carnival of horrors!
"An insignificant detail delivered by an insignificant mortal"--Rolin must hate Armand, he's not giving this dude an INCH. XD And SAM delivered it, not Daniel. SAM snitched on the coven. (WHEN?! And WHY?)
I don't like the whole "you should fear the other one--" only for Raglan to be like SOS GET OUT OF THERE NOW. Didn't Raglan know Armand was lying his arse off? Or was it misdirection--fear Louis' retribution when he busts a cap in Armand's lying arse?
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DanLou nation RISE! ^0^
This was beautiful; I'm so happy for them. They started off TERRIBLY, but look at that bond just blossom like a magnolia tree Armand tried to clip and prune and graft and manipulate--only for it to flourish wild and free!
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sketchehm · 4 months ago
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STORYTIME 4 WON THE SECOND POLL🎉
Ok. Some preface, again, doesnt seem the darkest but I did have a lot of ideas of how this is Fucked and was never fully expressed in tbe notes. This is also mainly discduo centric (oops) but the notes rarely have him mentioned until end of it. The reason for that is the notes only really have a kind of prologue/backstory set up and thats all I wrote down...
So, the notes are not complete(obviously lmao) but let me know if you want me to continue with what I had in mind for the rest or maybe just ask me specific questions you might have? Idk! I'm good with anything :>
XD god experimenting on his half gods/godlings
Discduo centric(kinda)
Dream trapped in facility to learn more about what makes a god, it's all he knows
- XD is like his father
- (VERY) loosely based on elfen lied, at least the relationship bit between XD and Dream
Dream still needs "outside" interactions to fully develop his godhood
XD has asked for...assistance from other gods to "help" his godling
- Blood God sends his godling techno
- goddess of death asks her godling/husband philza if he can provide anyone (she doesn't fully trust xd to be kind to phil for whatever reason) and philza sends his adopted(? Not sure yet) son wilbur
The actual story starts AFTER wilbur has died
Prequel-ish:
Wilbur gave a kind of affection others didn't to Dream and he(dream) craves it in an unhealthy codependent way
Dream thinks it's *his* fault Wilbur killed himself, although he doesn't truly understand why, just that he's a bad god and isn't providing the necessary research to help XD
Dream knows *extremely* little about the outside world
He's chained(kinda) up in a room and cannot move, some high tech helmet is on him to measure his brain waves(doodle this later)
He has been in this contraption ever since he was created and grew up in it
Wilbur isnt a godling, but isnt fully mortal either, he's blessed by the goddess but he can still die
He's the closest thing to mortal that Dream has met
Techno is friends with dream and they are close and dream was able to develop and open up his personality cause of techno
There's a type of comfort techno gives dream
Also a double edged sword cause in dreams eyes, Techno is a Good Godling. Something he'll never achieve
Techno can walk around and read books and leave the room and talk with his patron whenever he wants(as far as dream knows)
Dream is Bad because he is trapped here and isn't ready to go outside the room. He is bad at being a god and that's why he can't leave yet. Once he's Good he can leave....surely...
Wilbur is not godly. But he can leave. He is special, cherished and loved and Momentary. Dream loves him in a way he doesn't understand. He wishes to be like Wilbur. If he weren't a god, he wouldn't have to be good or bad. Why does Wilbur cry at his knees praying? He can't move to make the tears go away, he doesn't get it....
They converse a lot, dream learns about Life:tm: and the meaning of it, as per described by Wilbur. But Life is mean to wilbur as Dream is learning. But he doesn't get why, it just is. If Dream becomes a Good God, he can help Wilbur and get rid of the Mean in Wilbur's life
Wilbur is just some Not Well Adjusted Adult
- living and surrounded by heavenly people takes a toll on the mental health oops
- feeling of insignificance and that he will be forgotten once his life is over
- smh he spreading his edgy ideology to pure unknowning dream stop that you're gonna make both of yourselves More depressed
- The equivalent of some grown guy venting to a 10 yr old smh(dream isn't 10 but has that innocence in a sense)
-Wilbur also becomes horribly codependent on Dream since this is the only Godly figure who actually listens to him
-he realizes Dream doesn't fully understand, but does see dreams genuine want to help wilbur in any way he can
"I'll be Good Wilbur! And then I can help, I'll make it better!"
Wilbur does come to a sudden realization how fucked up it is for Dream to be stuck here. Maybe more for selfish reasons, but he wishes for Dream to be out (maybe to just be Wilbur's)
- to an extent, everyone knows it's messed up, but you can't go against XD and it has now become Commonplace for this godling to be locked up. It's just one godling(as far as they know) going through this....it's fineeeee
Wilbur ends up killing himself(or does he dun dun dun)
Techno is sent to tell Dream the news by XD but he beats around the bush as he's trying...(love awkward techno <3)
XD then appears in the room upset by Techno's lack of [word I can't remember] and breaks the news to Dream.
Dream doesn't really understand the gravity of death in the moment, as much as Wilbur did bring it up
XD: Wilbur is dead my dear Godling.
Dream: oh....when will he return, Papa?
Techno: .......he won't. He's...he...-
XD: There is no returning from death my dear Godling. Wilbur will cease to visit and you will forget and continue on without him.
Xd leaves in a blink and dream doesn't quite digest it yet, he doesn't *get* it
Wilbur isn't coming back....why? Was it his fault...?
He looks at Techno hoping for something more
But techno looks distressed, eyes scrunched and eyes shiny....that doesn't make sense. Techno is not allowed to have that face. He knows wilbur and Techno were close too. They both would visit at once sometimes and speak with each other in ways dream doesn't quite understand. A familiarity that Dream has always craved.
But surely Techno can still see Wilbur right? Wilbur just won't visit anymore....Wilbur isn't visiting....but techno can tell him about Wilbur after Wilbur's dead is gone....?
Dream: Techno....?
Techno will flinch and look at dream in the eyes and Dream will see such a sadness that he doesn't *get*
Where is Wilbur...?
Techno can see Dream's confusion, he knows XD is cruel and will not explain the sadness of death to his son godling. XD has purposefully not bonded with Dream. XD is horrible.
Techno will take a breathe and then steady his voice. Dream is meant to stay pure for this experiment as per XD's orders. Whatever that means.... XD is not Techno's God but he is under his domain and he still has a friend here that he needs to look after. He will not leave his friend alone. He *cannot* fail another. He will find a solution....
Techno: Wilbur is gone dream. No one will ever see him again. Only the Goddess may comfort him now....
Dream: oh....is it because of me?
Dream won't get it. He will continue to hope for wilbur to return. If he becomes Better and Good. Wilbur will Return. He will become as good as his Papa and as good as the Goddess so he can comfort wilbur instead!
Techno: No... no dream it isn't because of you. Wilbur....was going through something. None of us could've helped...he's gone Dream. Wilbur *cannot* come back. I'm sorry.
Dream is tired of not getting it.
But he does. He does get it. Wilbur described being dead and death many times. But dream doesn't think that description fits Wilbur. So Wilbur can't be that. He *cant*
(But he is. Wilbur is Dead.)
The monitors will go off like crazy and Techno will be forced to leave.
Dream will scream. His Wilbur is *gone*.
Dream will enter a deep depression.
He will need to be forced fed and XD will scold him and Dream will cry as his Papa tells him he will never be worthy of leaving the room. Dream will forever be Bad. Thats why he couldn't save Wilbur. It Is His Fault.
Techno will visit more often and fight to stay longer. He's been meaning to break Dream out, but the trouble it'll cause his own God prevents him. But he might say fuck it anyways.....
But Dream needs someone now. And Techno thinks he knows someone else who is equally in despair. He knows XD has been badgering Phil to bring someone else. But Phil refuses, he is also Depressed but handling it way better. But when Techno asks, Phil trusts Techno more.
Techno just hopes this isn't a bad idea and that XD doesn't fucking blow up this person....
So Techno will tell Dream, hey Nerd. A new person will be visiting tomorrow. It was a pain to get him to agree, but...maybe you'll like him? He's really annoying at first, he still is really. But you guys might share stuff in common funny enough.
And dream will be despondent. Suspended by his chains and motionless, emotionless. He looks dead. Techno will feed him stew while talking with him. How he spoke to philza to get permission. How XD approved of the person(but XD doesn't know how loud this guy is techno will joke)
Dream will only eat from technos hand now. In the recess of his mind, it's wilbur. It's wilbur talking to him, even if the mannerisms and voice is wrong.
Someone new is coming. Why though. He has everyone he wants. He doesn't need anyone else. He'll be a Bad god forever. No one new will change that.
Then a mortal visits.
Main plot:
Tommy is depressed as shit. His (kinda adoptive?) brother wilbur was found at the shores of a river. He jumped from a bridge to kill himself. He was at school when they found him. He hasn't been to school since. He hasn't been anywhere. It's been about 3 months. He thinks he might have to repeat the year, that would fucking suck...Phil is trying to get him back out there. But fuck Phil. It's his fault. He killed wilbur....everyone did.
But then Techno visits him specifically. And Tommy thinks Techno is awesome and amazing and he doesn't visit home for *him*. He visits for Phil or wilbur. Tommy is just....there pestering Techno for attention. Tommy blames himself a lot for Wilbur's death.
Techno knows that. Has seen both sides of the coin. All the good and bad with wilbur. The cruelness he possessed.
Wilbur was not good to Tommy.
Tommy will learn way later why Techno would visit so much when Wilbur was alive.
But now Techno is visiting Tommy! And they go on a stroll in the nearby woods.
Techno will ask how Tommy is doing
Tommy will avoid the question
Tommy asks what techno is up to.
Techno will say he's still on his Assignment.
And Tommy stops. While Tommy blames the whole fucking world(including himself) for Wilbur's death. He blames the Assignment more. Ever since Wilbur had to leave everyday to go to the Assignment, he's come back different. He isn't as dumb as people make him out to be. But he just didn't want to acknowledge the change. Wilbur became meaner to him over time ever since he got that fucking Assignment. Wilbur started saying meaner shit to him, started hitting him, stop calling him all the fun nicknames. Wilbur....Wilbur was scary. And Tommy wasn't enough to help him. Tommy lost Wilbur to that fucking Assignment.
The most blame comes from that fucking thing. That's the *real* reason Wilbur is *gone*.
Tommy will feel his anger swell and before he has a chance to curse the fuck out of Techno,
"Do ya want to come with me tomorrow?"
And Tommy's anger pops like a balloon. He's so taken a back.
"What the fuck?"
And he'll agree. After a bit a of yelling and screaming.... He's gonna see first hand what destroyed wilbur and fucking kill it himself. Destroy it to shreds.
(Techno will keep quiet about Tommy's feelings on this whole subject from XD haha....XD's special project is in no danger whatsoever, this is a great plan!)
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darklydeliciousdesires · 5 months ago
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Calmer Seas - A Niklas Kvarforth/Reader One Shot Story.
Just a little thing I wrote, since I missed writing for my favourite mess of a man <3 No smut, just you being there for Niklas as he attempts to improve his mental health a little.
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Words - 1,510
Warnings - None, just Nik being Nik, but at least trying not to be as chaotic as he previously has been xD
You can always tell when he’s on edge. He has two modes which are seldom deviated from; the first being the loud, slightly scary, rude, obnoxious drunk, and then there’s the second. That is the one you’re witnessing now, watching the way his jaw muscles tense, his blue eyes rapidly clouding over, his fingers flexing in and out of a closed fist.  
He’s had enough. Of everything. Especially the person interviewing him and making what can only be described as a complete mess of it. Their own fault, you reason, since Niklas is very well famed for being either engaging and forthcoming when interviewed, should he be asked interesting questions, or an utter nightmare if he tires of the interviewer, or the questions he or she poses.  
Watching from the corner, your brain begins to tick with the equations. Has he eaten today, did he take his medication, will the hand that is flexing actually make it to grasp the bottle of Jack Daniel’s he’s been sharply eyeing? Working it out, you realise that no, he’s currently unmedicated, adding that to the fact he’s itching for a drink and so tired that mauve shadows haunt the skin beneath his eyes equals he’s likely about to be a problem. 
For the interviewer, not you.  
For you, he actually behaves. He’s trying to better himself, but the demons that dance through his head are never too far from the surface.  
“Okay, um, right,” the interviewer states, a little thrown off after a particularly crisp reply from Niklas. “Now, can you tell me about the tour so far?” 
His eyebrows furrow even further. “What exactly do you want to know?” 
“Everything. How’s it going and like, how do you feel you’re being received by the audiences?” 
He lights a cigarette, his hand tremoring with agitation. “Ask the fucking audiences, not me.” 
You can feel it, the air thickening, the interviewer shuffling his printed notes, Niklas’s eyes flitting between him and the slightly crumpled papers in his hands. “Okay, so um, like...” 
He begins winding his hand in impatience. “Spit it out!” 
“Are you, um... so do you...” 
“Say ‘um’ one more damned time to me.” 
Oh, god. Okay, you have to step in. Luckily, as his assistant, you both have a code shared to get him out of a situation he doesn’t want to be in, a key statement spoken. Holding your phone to your ear after knocking it onto silent, you feign a telephone call, nodding and humming before stepping in.  
“Niklas, it’s an emergency,” you state, looking to the interviewer as your boss rises up from his seat at speed, taking the phone from you and holding it to his ear as he marches from the room. “Sorry, that will be all for this evening.” 
The man looks more relieved than anything. Turning from him, you follow the path Niklas took, finding him down at the end of the hallway that leads out to the tour bus. 
He hands you your phone with a slight smile. “Thanks for the intervention.” 
“I wasn’t convinced you weren’t about to either down a litre of bourbon, start becoming more difficult for the guy trying to interview you, or punch him in the face,” you confess, Niklas drawing on his cigarette, a small snort of laughter sounding.  
“Probably all three,” he sniffs, “but this is why I employ you.” A little shrug follows. “At least I’m trying not to be a nightmare these days.”  
“Trying and managing, for the most part,” you tell him. He’s doing heaps better than he ever thinks that he is. 
He shrugs a little. “Only because you know all my mannerisms before I’m about to fucking explode. You shouldn’t be called an assistant. Bomb disposal expert is better.” 
Tipping your head back, you laugh softly. True, you guess. You manage to snip the necessary wires in order to prevent the inevitable detonation. “Come on, Kvarforth. Time for your next dose.”  
He looks back into the venue for a few seconds, and you know it’s killing him, not being back there revelling in the hedonistic excess that goes hand in hand with his profession. He complained to you many times before how muted it made him feel, no drugs other than the prescribed type, no alcohol. Sometimes there are women still, but he’s bored with it nowadays, so he says. ‘Every girl in nylons and smudged makeup is just as vapid and vacuous as the rest.’ 
Settling in the lounge, he takes his doses of four different pills and then moves your legs to lie between them. Resting his head on your stomach, he closes his eyes, a grumble sounding from somewhere deep in his chest. A little pissed off, but mostly content.  
“Thanks,” he speaks eventually, eyes closed, drumming his fingers against his chest. He’s still agitated, his fidgety hands revealing that. Of course, you know the signs.  
“What for?” you ask, moving your hands to his head, pressing your fingers to his temples and beginning to rotate. It’s all part of the diffusion process. 
“For putting up with me and my shit.” 
A smile plays across your lips. “You pay me well.” 
“You’re worth it.” he mumbles, his voice growing softer as the tension begins to ebb away. The rhythm of your fingers on his temples works its magic, and you can feel the weight of his shoulders gradually lighten. The bus hums with the muffled sounds coming from the venue, a faint reminder of the chaos he’s momentarily escaped.
As his breathing steadies, you glance around, taking in the remnants of a life lived under the spotlight, the discarded empty cigarette cartons, the crumpled sheets of lyrics, each a testament to the turbulent but brilliant mind resting against you.  
This is your world too, stitched together by moments of calm amidst the storms, a delicate balance between managing the man and nurturing the artist. “We make a good team, don’t we?” he murmurs, more at peace now, his agitation dulled by the familiarity of your touch.  
You smile, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. “Yeah, we do.” 
“It’ll only be a matter of time, though,” he sighs, reaching for your hands and knitting his fingers with yours, “before I fuck this up, too. Then the only little fucking piece of stability I have will leave. Just like all the rest.” 
Leaning to him, you kiss the tip of his nose, resting yours against it thereafter. “I’m stronger than the rest, hence why I’ve seen you through a breakdown and treatment for said breakdown, gotten you back on the road and helped you stay healthy. Or, as healthy as you ever can be. Being better means being better for me, too. If you do, I’m not going anywhere.” 
“Remains to be seen.” 
“Stop throwing me away while I’m still here, idiot.” you speak, shaking your head, resting your cheek against his.  
He turns his head, kissing you just above your jaw a couple of times. He stays quiet, though. There has been a trust gradually built over countless moments like this, where you've been the anchor in his turbulent sea, weaving together fragments of stability in his chaotic existence. He knows, deep down, that your presence is the glue holding his fractured world together, a delicate yet unbreakable bond forged through shared struggles and small victories.  
As his breathing slows, a quiet acknowledgement passes between you, unspoken but deeply felt. The night outside grows darker, and within this cocoon of fleeting calm, he stills.  
Ticking bombs always need to be dismantled with the care of an expert. In the case of his, you’ve never failed. One day, though, he might explode, and it’s always there in the back of your mind. For now, though, as he turns onto his side, pulling your leg over his hip as he burrows his face against your chest, his fuse has successfully been extinguished.  
For now. 
The knowledge that you are the keeper of his peace is both a burden and a privilege, a testament to the depth of your bond and the unwavering commitment you share. And as the moment passes, you close your eyes, listening to the rhythm of his breathing. 
“Can I go back and slap that journalist?” he suddenly asks, something in his brain lighting up that fuse once more. “Fucking cunt, wasting my time like that.” 
Looking down at him, you shake your head. He frowns. “You ruin all of my fun.” 
“Hmm,” you hum, kissing his head. “But I keep your peace. Tell me what’s more important to you right now?” 
He huffs, chest swelling from the deep breath he takes. “The peace. I suppose.”  
While he might sound aggrieved by that, truly, you have no idea just how much he values you for it. That’s perhaps the only part you cannot see, that within him, he’d be so much more of a mess without you there to keep him together.  
He’d be even more loathed to admit how much he actually loves you for it, too.  
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cursedvibes · 6 months ago
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2024 Fic Review
Tagged by @voxofthevoid thank youu 😊 I'm not gonna get anywhere close to your word count holy shit xD
Statistics
My Top 5 Fics by Hits: (only counting 2024)
Surprisingly enough TakaKen fans even managed to overtake my Yuuji fic here. Then again, TakaKen has more chapters, so that might help.
Build A House From Cinders TakaKen, Kenjaku Survives AU
Eat Your Young Yuuji & Choso, Being Raised By Kenjaku AU
An Old Nightmare Jin-centric, him dealing with memories of being Sukuna's twin (not actually as it turns out, thanks Gege)
Can't Let Go TenKen, Modern/No Powers AU
Out of Touch, Out of my Head TenKen, Tengen notices that she is starting to lose control over her body and soul and asks Kenjaku for help. The resulting discussion leads to the first crack in their relationship.
Very thankful to the handful of TenKen fans who keep reading my very self-indulgent word vomit about Old Person Yuri
My Most Bookmarked Fic:
Eat Your Young
It has Yuuji and Choso in it, probably the most popular characters I ever wrote about, so it's not that surprising.
How Many Words I Wrote in 2024:
Officially 73,525, but the unpublished stuff is much higher. Not sure how high, since I don't keep track of what I wrote when and adding it all together would be a hassle. Save to say that I didn't write as much as I wanted to, particularly in the second half of the year, but I'd say it's still a decent number.
Question Stuff
1. What was the most surprising thing about writing in 2024?
How much work got in the way of me actually writing anything and then publishing it 🥲 Also that while I lost quite a bit of passion and interest in JJK overall, that doesn't apply to TakaKen and TenKen. They thoroughly keep me engaged. :D
2. What was the most enjoyable to write?
Toss up between Build A House From Cinders and Can't Let Go I'd say. Easy to tell by this also being the fics with the highest word count lol. I think it's especially the domestic (but still somewhat unsettling) aspects in both of them that I love a lot.
3. Which fic is the most underrated?
Any of the TenKen stuff, but the ship is just underrated in general. That's why I appreciate the few people who keep checking out fics. 😊
4. Which fic(s) had something "cut" or an idea that never happened?
in search of connection was originally supposed to be the beginning of a much longer fic spanning basically Kenjaku's whole life. I'll still publish the second half of it as a separate fic though.
5. Which fic(s) did you want to write but didn't get around to?
Countless...one part of it is my TakaKen No Powers AU I'm still mulling over. It's coming along, but both ideas I have are not quite finished yet.
6. Any WIPs that never got published?
more like what WIPs did I get published Basically the answer from above. I also wanted to write more about Jin and how him being Sukuna's twin affected his relationship with Kenjaku, but I'm a bit stuck there...
7. Share a snippet from a WIP fic?
Part of the second half of in search of connection that I ended up cutting and is becoming it's own unrelated thing
"Dream On"
Letting go of her and sending her to another relic of the past to keep her safe is not as unimaginable as it used to be, it doesn’t twist their insides as much. All they can think about is that man, lying there on the forest ground, blissfully unaware of the chaos breaking out around him. He is still caught in a dream, relishing in the after effects of their comedy show together. Kenjaku can’t fault him. Not even the blade piercing through their brain can chase away the image of his smile burned in the back of their mind. The thrill making their brain tremble in memory of their souls’ resonance. Takaba Fumihiko has given them joy at the end of their long life they wouldn’t have been able to imagine before. That is enough for them. Enough to be able to embrace death with only a slight twinge of regret and the hollowness of Tengen’s absence not quite as cold anymore. Void surrounds their mind and swallows them up, taking the memories of their final encounter and the loss of their first friend with them.
8. Which fic was the one you were most excited to write?
Can't Let Go I always had a lot of ideas for how Tengen and Kenjaku might interact in a non-jujutsu world. How they might meet, how not knowing each other quite as long might affect them and how there might actually be a chance for them to live relatively conflict-free together. Imagining Tengen as an old shut-in ex-professor was also fun. There was just so much to play around with and a chance to finally have them interact in a non-antagonistic way. Just lots of fun to write.
9. Fic hopes for the New Year?
Write more 🙃 So far my focus is mainly on getting that fic I posted a snippet of above published and at least one of my WIPs for No Powers AU TakaKen as well. We'll see about the rest.
Tagging: @hxhhasmysoul @kaitakushi and anyone else who wants to do it
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altraviolet · 6 months ago
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Hello Violet!!!
So I've been wondering about The Echo Garden, when you started it did you have a plan in mind? I think you get these sorts of questions often but, did you ever intend for it to get this big? And one final thing, when you went into The Echo Garden did you edit it as you go or did you write the whole thing out and then edited it? I love your work by the way, keep it up!
Hi potato-sauce!
[googles "potato sauce" to see if that's a thing, finds Czech recipe. oh hell yeah, that looks really good]
:D
>did you have a plan in mind?
I had the very rough plan of "Soundwave needs to go from not feeling to feeling, and then on the side I need to develop Soundwave/Rodimus in a realistic way against the backdrop of the Lost Light." Sub plans included "make the other alt-dimensioners each have a problem that SW solves" and "make the LL bots have different reactions to SW" and "uhhhhh he needs a hobby. crystals?"
My method of writing is more "discovery" than "planned," or at least it was until the end of the fic. Until, say around ch 40ish, I had Vague Ideas for what needed to happen in each chapter, and so I'd write them [aka each ch needs to complete X goals to push the narrative forward], and then as I went, my brain somehow magically sewed almost everything up together. Once it got towards the end of the fic, I could 'see' where things needed to end up. But even then, things were quite fluid when it came to sitting down and typing up any given chapter.
>did you ever intend for it to get this big?
No. I had no intentions at all. I didn't even have a GUESS or a THOUGHT it would get this big. The pairing was SO weird, I thought maybe 2 people would read it. Maybe. One of them has been with me since the beginning, and the other is a friend. I was SO sure everyone would go "pff weird" and skip over it. I was really nervous posting it, actually.
Keep in mind that the pairing is fairly well-known now, and that also a lot of people extrapolated soundrod from Cyberverse. so it doesn't feel weird now. BUT IT WAS INCREDIBLY WEIRD when I posted Ch 1
>when you went into The Echo Garden did you edit it as you go or did you write the whole thing out and then edited it?
I wrote it out over the period of 4 years and posted chapters as they were finished. anyone who read along as it was being posted would never know when a chapter would drop xD I tried very hard not to let too much time elapse between chapters, but sometimes there were large gaps. and other times I'd post 3 chapters within a week. I got too excited to dole them out more slowly, haha. I was bursting to share :D chapters usually came out on Sunday nights or around USA holidays, because I needed some temporal distance from my job in order to get my brain working
I don't think I could've finished the fic if I had fully written it out and then posted it. the comments I got while it was an ongoing WIP helped boost me and made me feel so happy, and that what I was doing was important and worth my time, and worth something to other people. without comments, the Echo Garden probably never would have been finished. that's why I always tell people to comment! especially on ongoing WIPs that you love. it's so encouraging and helpful for authors to know that their hard work is being enjoyed!
anyway I wrote each chapter and then edited the HECK out of it and then posted it when I was done. I also wrote a lot of things out of order, so sometimes when I got to the next chapter, I could grab a chunk of writing from my 'already written scenes' doc and then write around it to sew it into the existing story
the only editing I did after the fic was completely done was going through and fixing grammar/related mistakes. there are a couple things I would change, structurally, if I were going to go through and really edit it, as one should do with a novel. technically, the version on AO3 right now is the first draft! the fic could be edited further, but I'm going to let it stand where it is =)
thanks for the ask! cheers :)
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