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ahomeforwisters · 4 months

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ava gift exchange 2023! 🎄🥳

it's here! happy holidays, lulw (@tdlad), hope you're having a good one! this isn't a piece of visual art since i don’t have the tools to create one, so you get a dr. seuss-inspired fic + a part of a fic i might finish later!

due to irl events, i had to rush these a bit, but i hope you enjoy it either way :) have a wonderful winter (or summer, depending on where you are) week, and happy (early) new year! *gives gingerbread cookie*

(prompt: i tried to combine elements from all three, but i focused on “the dark lord with red coat (that tdl in my posts)” specifically—your art is just gorgeous, btw!)

word count: ~1400 for the first one/the dr. suess-y one, ~1320 (and counting?) for the second one/the unfinished one

(and special thanks to @avagiftexchange for hosting this!)

Fic 1: How the Grinch Dark Lord Stole Christmas (or: dark's christmas cake romp)

Every stick in Stick City, near the end of the year, Every stick in Stick City brimmed with holiday cheer…

But! The Dark Lord, who’s not far from here, Who lived in the wintry woods quite near— The Dark Lord held Christmas even more dear!

~-~

The Dark Lord loved Christmas, this is no bluff, And you’d best believe it, he just can’t get enough! Was it because he enjoyed the sound of children laughing clear, Or did he simply have a particular liking for reindeer? Well I’ll tell you his secret, his reason for this: He really, really liked log cakes, they fill him with bliss.

“Christmas awaits, on the very next day, Christmas really is just a day away!”

But, From his perch in the woods, Watching the stars from where he stood, With hungry eyes and vibrant ardor, With the growing desire for Christmas he harbors, (and a craving for frosting he just can’t ignore), The Dark Lord knew: he needed more!

He needed more of all that Christmas had in store! And he will get more, he swore, He’ll claim even more of Christmas, ‘twas his right as a Lord!

But—how? Christmas is already drawing so near, Soon enough, Christmas will practically already be here! He needed more time, and he needed… a plan! A plan to put Christmas in the palm of his hand.

So The Dark Lord schemed, And he schemed, and he schemed, And he conjured a scheme, A terrible scheme!

“A-ha! I’ve got a brilliant idea!”

Dark cackled, a sound from deep in his throat, As he pulled from his closet his most dapper red coat. “They’ll never see me coming, even from the skies, “So long as I craft myself a most clever disguise!”

So he lined his coat with cotton, like Santa’s coat proper, Just as into the room, his friend Chosen entered— “Look, dearest Chosen, I’ve come up with a plan, “A plan to seize Christmas in the palm of my hand!”

Dear Chosen deadpanned, “Why are you talking like that,” And right after, he inquired, what about your silly Santa’s hat?

“No I didn’t—”

“Right here! I believe my night cap is sufficient,” Dark proclaimed, wearing the hat over his ears. “Now I only need a reindeer…”

But around this area, their part of the woods here, This much Dark knew: you wouldn’t find any deer! But was Dark deterred…? No! He said, “If I can’t find a deer, I’ll just make one instead!”

“...What do you think you’re doing with that big red nose.”

…And Dark ended up sticking the nose and antlers on his one last Virabot instead!

And so, with his little red cap on his hollow red head, And his feet firmly planted in his makeshift sled— He took with him a burlap sack, Which he then hoisted upon his back— He yelled, “Onward!” just before he took flight, Off to steal Christmas, he disappeared into the night!

~-~

Back on the ground, Chosen gazed down at the cardboard box—sorry, at the sled—Dark left behind. He stared at the confused Virabot, wearing an antler headband and sporting a red clown nose glued to its face, and sighed. “This is so stupid…”

~-~

A jaunty holiday tune played from an open Chrome window, But not a sound could be heard coming from inside their homes. He was here at last, and at the perfect time, too— They must all be in their beds, dreaming away without a clue! “Now to enact my plan…”

So he climbed down the chimney, one crafted from brick, It wasn’t too tight a fit, for he was literally a stick. Though he did get stuck once, or twice, maybe thrice— And he cursed his head, loudly, for it was massive in size. “Ow—seriously, who makes chimneys this small—”

“Second, is that you?”

Just as Dark managed to extricate himself, finally, Free from the clutches of that dastardly chimney— He came face-to-face with his first obstacle: Little Cindy-Blue Who, carrying fruits in a bowl.

“Wha… Little Cindy-Blue who?”

That’s right! Little Cindy-Blue Who, probably much older than two, Who… was actually awake at this time? But it’s two (a.m.)!

“Oh, no, we don’t actually sleep. Like at all. Except Second, sometimes, but he’s off doing his own thing right now. But uhh, anyways, hi, Dark Lord! What—what’s up? And why are you dressed like…”

And oh, there was a cautious glint in his eyes— He was nervous! But there was no need for such fright, Not if Dark wanted his plan to go without a hitch. So Dark would assure him, and explain his impromptu visit:

“You see, sweet youth—you see, the job of Santy, “Is to stock up your stockings, and fill them aplenty! “So that’s what I’m here for—but not you, my dear, “For this gift’s a surprise, so I can’t have you near.”

And the lie rolled cleanly off The Dark Lord’s tongue, For he was clever, and sure to fool the young. And surely enough, Cindy-Blue Who was nodding, Raring and ready to hurry back to bed a-plodding. You’re right, Santa Dark, he joyfully exclaimed, I’ll head right back to bed now! With a turn and a wave.

“What? But I didn’t say anythi—”

And so, with his burlap sack swinging, And with Cindy-Blue assuaged, standing there beaming— “Hey, don’t—get back here…!” The Dark Lord marched onward, his first obstacle cleared!

…only to find four more, all waiting at the door!

(…crap)

Ahem—what a surprise! The Dark Lord gasped, He can’t believe his eyes, ‘twas something he almost couldn’t grasp— What a sight, that they’d all come to greet him so, How happy they must be, to all rush out and greet him so!

“Hey uhh… what’s he saying?”

‘What’s he saying?’ They’re asking what game he’s playing! They ask why he’s here, and on what he was preying. But! faced with a barrier of four— Now five, as Cindy-Blue Who, panting, adds one more… They all block his path to the far kitchen door, But has this ever stopped The Dark Lord before? No!

“Hey wait, where are you going?” Cindy-Blue called when Dark showed no signs of slowing.

“Why’d you come here all of a sudden?” Said the yellow, placing a hand on his chin.

“The Cindy-blue-what now?” Slowly asked the red fellow.

“And what’s with the getup?” Queried Green, looking him from the toes up.

“Oh, Chosen told me he and Dark recently discovered these popular picture books. And ever since then, Dark’s been narrating everything he does in rhyme.”

“Ah, is that why he’s talking like that?” Yellow asked, eyeing his little Santa’s hat.

“That’s actually kind of impressive,” Remarked Green, who’s usually quite quick to forgive.

“Ooh, try rhyming something with orange!” Red said as Cindy-Blue stood next to Orange.

“Please stop calling me that, I don’t even know what it means,” Groaned Cindy-Blue Who, beside a laughing Green.

“Hey guys, Chosen texted me again just now—apparently Dark is here trying to ‘steal Christmas’ from us—which really just means he wants our log cakes.”

(goddammit Chosen you traitor)

“Wait, that’s it? That’s what that devious plan he was cackling about is?”

“I mean, Blue could always just make another cake. You could’ve just asked if you wanted one.”

“Yeah, and you’re… kind of really bad at sneaking? We could hear you narrating really loudly as soon as you got here.”

“And cursing out Orange’s chimney, too. Geez, that was vulgar…”

“Well,” with a flourish, the orange stick gestures, Towards the kitchen, where Dark had been hoping to plunder. “We’ve got some cake, if you want it. Next time just let us know you’re coming before you tear a portal through our wifi. And maybe keep your visits during the daytime, or at least don’t come crawling down my chimney past midnight…”

What was this? Could it be—no, it simply couldn’t be… But it was! “They’ll stand here and hand Christmas—to me?” For ‘twas the season of giving, of gifts freely given, Of gingerbread, batter, and cakes in the kitchen.

And there Dark stood and pondered, and pondered, and pondered, ‘Til a bright thought struck him! One that filled him with wonder: Could it be, then, that Christmas was not for the taking, But for shared cheer and laughs and all that in the making?

“Oh, for Adobe’s—just sit down and have some log cake.” And, well— ‘Twas simply an offer Dark cannot forsake.

- the end -

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Fic 2: i don't actually have a name for it yet, but i think i'll call it thaw for now

Christmas. ‘Twas a time of joyous laughter and warm embraces, of fireside affections and wintry escapades. ‘Twas the season of giving, be it presents or sweets or even the simplest of smiles—‘twas a time when even the little things, when given to another, are made infinitely precious.

Christmas. ‘Twas an absolutely perplexing holiday, for a stick such as The Dark Lord—and ‘twas a completely pointless one, too, as far as Dark was concerned.

Yet, when a pair of glittery red envelopes arrived at the doorstep of his and Chosen’s cabin in the woods—and when he opened one of them up to find an invitation inside, filigreed in gold and writ upon with a blue gel pen (in rather shaky handwriting, he noticed)—he didn’t immediately turn it to ash. He regarded it for longer than he normally would’ve, longer than he should’ve, turning it this way and that under the light—‘You’re invited!’, it winked up at him. If he didn’t know better just how sappy the animator’s favorite and his friends can be, he would’ve thought this was some kind of taunt.

(“You’re invited!”? who in their right minds would want to invite The Dark Lord, the outernet’s worst cyber-criminal, to something as mundane—as warm alien pointless—as a holiday gathering?)

While he was still winning gots nose at the gaudy invitation, the only other stick around for miles appeared in his periphery—Chosen picked up an envelope, too, when he saw what Dark was studying at the doorway. Dark almost hadn’t noticed when his fr… when his roommate had snuck up behind him, his pronounced footfalls doing little to breach the chasm between them; it was all he could do to stop himself from launching a fireball at Chosen as soon as the latter reached past him (he hadn’t forgotten how well that’d gone for him the last time…)

Clumsily, fumbling with it once or twice, Chosen peeled at the envelope. His invitation was inked in orange instead of blue, littered with tiny scribbled drawings, and written in much neater script, too. Dark couldn’t catch the rest; Chosen always stood with his feet angled toward him these days, so his invitation turned away from view. That, and he’d moved a few paces away from the doorway—and Dark wasn’t interested anyway, he wasn’t. Pointless, he told himself again, it was such a pointless gesture. It was something he didn’t need—The Dark Lord had better things to do, had more important things to do, than to entertain something as small and banal as a Christmas party—it was a pointless affair, that was all it was.

(and yet.)

And yet. Dark wouldn’t be able to say what possessed him to do it; if it was sheer curiosity, a part of him balking at his own degrading wonder—or if it was when Chosen’s fingers tightened their hold on his invitation, carving minute creases into the paper,

and when the other stick’s eyes crinkled, just barely, in tender longing silent laughter only Dark would recognize—when those eyes finally met his, carrying a question and a spark Dark hadn’t seen in so long—he couldn’t find it within him to say no.

(it was Chosen’s idea, he would say later—it was all his roommate’s fault, the first and last person to extend their hand to him, that he was crashing their little party. he hadn’t wanted this, hadn’t needed it—he didn’t need this, he didn’t.)

~-~

If he was being honest—Dark really didn’t have anything better to do than to attend the party.

Ever since he was blasted to kingdom come by the animator’s favorite, ever since a battered Chosen had found him at the foot of a volcano and hauled his near-corpse all the way back to their cabin—in the months since, he’d seldom left their secluded area in the woods to do anything more than take a short walk. His shoulder still smarted from the hole that’d been blown through it, his skin etched with throbbing green scars all over—he couldn’t travel far beyond the bounds of the woods without wilting, robbed of breath. Needless to say, his heydays of ash and destruction were far behind him.

(and even if all his progress hadn’t been deleted, rendered void when Chosen destroyed the rest of his virabots following the “incident”—these days, looking at the place where he’d once stood tapping away at his computer, believing himself the inheritor of a grander purpose than the one dealt to him by the animator—it left an sour taste in his mouth.)

In his current condition, even petty theft seemed beyond his capabilities. Which was going to be a problem, he realized, when he turned to the back of the invitation and saw the damning first rule of the party written in a bold green: “Come in a costume! No costume, NO ENTRY.”

Well, in the state he was in, he wasn’t going to be pulling any heists anytime soon, not even on cheap outfitters—and he doubted any store would simply let a notorious cyber-criminal waltz into their establishment, even just to look around. That left him with only two options: either go through his own closets, or brave Chosen’s minefield of a room to rifle through his. It wasn’t a hard decision to make.

With practiced ease (and only slightly impeded by his still-healing injuries), Dark picked his way past piles of lightly-charred sweaters, discarded bandages, random knick knacks collecting dust over the years, a self-sustaining tornado of trash—all the way across his roommate’s bedroom to reach the far end where the closets were. While Dark considered his fashion sense to be impeccable, none of his clothes really screamed “festive.” It was all something along the lines of “looks like he could kill you” or “warning: would actually kill you.” Chosen’s taste in clothes, on the other hand, was more… eclectic. There was more variety; he’d probably have a better chance finding something acceptable to wear here than in his own wardrobe.

Dark threw open the leftmost closet, a mahogany behemoth with the price sticker still slapped on the left door, and oh, that was—what even was that? No, those pants were too long, and the pair beside them the wrong shade of green—and oh, that’s garish, why did he even think to nab this? What is this even supposed to be, a mop? Or some kind of shawl? That color is way too bright to ever belong on a shirt, that shirt is a visual safety hazard. And what—why aren’t these socks the same, where’s the other one in the pair? None of these socks are the same—is that a pair of googly eyes—

Dark shut the closet door. He should’ve expected this, really; he’d witnessed the affront to fashion that was Chosen’s wardrobe thousands of times before, whenever they had to disguise themselves to go into the city. The two other closets wouldn’t be much better, he knew, but just as he was turning to head back toward the door—had that box always been there?

Tucked away into the corner of the room was a small cardboard box, a little tattered and stained in several spots from years of disuse but otherwise appearing untouched by the surrounding mess. As an expert at navigating Chosen’s room, Dark knew for certain it hadn’t been there the last time he was here (just over three months ago. he’d been scrounging for one of the aprons he’d left in Chosen’s room; it feels like it’s been forever since then.)

It took only a short hop for Dark to reach it. The next second, he was kneeling down in front of it, carefully lifting the top flaps—and sure, maybe a part of him was prodding at him, telling him whatever was in there was probably stashed away in the corner for a reason, reminding him that things are different now, the space between you and him, it’s different now—but that hadn’t ever stopped Dark before

(aaand that's all i have for this second one for now. i'll probs post the rest on ao3 or something if i finish this, but i'll def let you know!)

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but yeah, anywho, that's all—have a wonderful holiday season! :)

#ava gift exchange #ava gift exchange 2023 #animator vs animation #animation vs minecraft #alan becker #ava tco #ava tdl #avm tsc #avm green #avm blue #avm red #avm yellow #for the first fic i just wanted to write dark being a goof #while the second was more character-studyish #anywho #it's here! gift exchange! :D

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wtfgaylittlezooid · 5 months

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[folds hands together] I think we (ie: me/j) should discuss Dark Lord and Chosen One angst a little more

Also just tacking this on: I’m not talking about ships they are brothers to me

#like. they were made to kill and hate eachother #and despite that found eachother in the other person #they both wanted freedom from Alan and both hated him #hell they literally lived together for a while. do you know how hard it is to live with someone #they were close #and also [points at darl] THATS HIS LITTLE BROTHER #idk I need to write a fic on this I like to imagine tco just buries the feelings

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hella1975 · 1 year

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i just read ‘the courage of stars’ and it BLEW ME AWAY and so i went to the bottom to check who the author was and my immediate reaction was OHHH of course it was hella haha. anyway this is my way of saying that i cried over that fic

OMG THIS FIC IS MY BABY I GET SO EXCITED WHEN PEOPLE TALK TO ME ABOUT IT <3333 tysm for this x

#always naming fics after the damn stars smh....#'OHHH of course it was hella' hehehe <333 #ask #tcos asks

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thecrusadercomrade · 8 months

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Important Update on To Continue On

For the few people on this blog actually interested in this particular story, you'll want to read this post.

After putting a lot of thought into it, I've decided I'll be ending the story once the current arc is concluded. I didn't want to do this, since I enjoy the characters so much, but a lack of response to the fic has led me to lose the motivation to keep writing it. I know I shouldn't decide the worth of my story based on how much others like it, and I try not to, but part of the fun of writing fanfic for me is seeing that others are enjoying my work. When I put so much effort into a chapter, only to see hardly any engagement, it makes it hard to keep putting in that level of effort.

Since the current arc will now be the final one, the fic should only last another two chapters, and then it'll be finished. Maybe one day I'll come back to it if I feel like it, or if people express interest, but that won't be for a while. I'd definitely like to continue the story since I absolutely love the character of Mayze that I've made, but we'll see what happens. When the fic is done, I'll be trying out some other story ideas, maybe a oneshot collection for TWDG or something along those lines.

I really appreciate those of you who've been enjoying the story, and I'm sorry to disappoint you by ending it this way. I don't want anyone to think I'm whining or complaining with this decision; I completely understand why a lot of people wouldn't want to read a story as niche as mine, and I don't blame them for not giving it a shot if it's not something they're interested in. Not all story ideas are winners, and this was a completely new franchise I was writing for, so it was always going to be experimental. It happens. It's just that I don't enjoy writing if people aren't enjoying reading it, and so I had to make the choice that was right for me. Thank you for your understanding, and for all your support!

#To Continue On #tco mayze #CrusaderWriting #fic update

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nicoforlifetrue · 17 days

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im writeing a fic for plot swap

so the plot swap post has turned into an entire fic, with a plot chart and everything, this is going to be the basic outline for the difference in au vs cannon considering canon color crew plus purple minus orange are going to be in the au. call this the character chart. if you want to go into the au blind when i post it ignore this

Alan Becker, aka the creator, dad

actually a good stick dad, and cared for them as best he could, currently mia after the hollow heads watched him collapse and be taken away by people. the hollows are doing everything they can to find him.

Victim Becker, aka the firstborn, Vic, was an accidental creation

created rocket corp in an attempt to find the creator, runs it not to dissimilar to a mafia, ruthless with anyone perceived as being in the way, over protective of his brothers has mercs watching them near constantly so nothing can happen to them. considers his siblings an ace up his sleeve if the cards are down considering there powers are much stronger then his.

the chosen one Becker, aka the second born, cho, tco, one, created to give vic someone to spend time with

after a brief stent of destruction after alans disappearance and the pc shutting down now spends most of his time either training second or keeping the home feeling like home, the only sibling actually copeing instead of just trying to fix the problem, he and alan worked on his temper but after alans disappearance its almost as bad as when he was born.

the dark lord Becker, aka the third born, dark tdl, created to give cho someone to spar with

the most laid back after Alan's vanishing, but handling it worse then cho, has not processed what's happening at all, takes his bursts of rage out on any website that bugs him even slightly, vic encourages this, spends most days tearing the web apart trying to locate any sign of alan or sneaking second away from the mercs to go mess around in the city.

the second coming becker, aka the youngest child, sec, tsc, orange, also a complete accident

having only been around for two weeks before his dads vanishing act he blames himself for it, hasnt met any of his friends yet and is lonely, clinging to his brothers for interaction, has really bad social anxiety yet always running away from his babysitters to try and make friends, most of his brothers fear as a result of there dad vanishing has focused onto him, resulting in them being over protective. powers activated when the pc shut down, has a very basic grasp on them but they tend to react to his emotions without his imput.

the color crew(red green blue and yellow)

where never broken out of their game and are still there stuck, sick of being stuck in the fighting loop.

mango tango, aka mt, dad

suspicious of rocket corp but keeping his head down for his family, never went on his rampage because gold never died. retired professional fighter teaching gold how to fight and teaching purple he doesn't have to fight, current stay at home dad.

lilac, aka mom

also suspicious of rocket corp and is also better at keeping her head down then her husband, divorced navy when purple was six and her then husband broke their kids arm, marryed MT when purple was eight, works as a software engineer, her company is offten hired by rocket corp. her illness was treatable because of vic digging into hospital record and other such databases in an attempt to find alan, leading to her actually getting a diagnosis and eventual recovery. she can no longer work in the field and works from home most days, refuses to let MT get a job so she can quit, she likes her work too much and she knows he adores spending so much time with the kids.

marigold, aka gold, big sister

unaware of her parents worry's, is two years older then purple and wants to be a professional fighter like her dad, didn't die because the hollows had gone to the fair before them, and sec had gone in when the error was made but instead of dyeing his powers teleported him to freedom. dosent have any freinds because her energy scares most people away, she dosnt mind. she asks too many questions in too public places for her parents liking, shes going to get into something she cant get out of one of these days.

purple, aka little brother

very aware of his parents concerns, also doesn't have any friends so spends most of the time with his sister, interested in the use of icons outside of their apps, aka one of the things rocket corp specializes in, try's to keep his head down but he's got a strong sense of justice that doesn't like keeping quite

#avm #animation vs animator #animation vs minecraft #plot swap au

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mamawasatesttube · 2 days

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hi there! just wanted to say i absolutely loved the courage of stars ; ~ ; i cried so hard reading it, it really moved me 🥹🥹🥹 thank you so much for writing, i was really wrung out after i finished reading so i couldn't comment with my thoughts. i had the spoons (and the courage 🥹 ) to send this today though because i had a question:

i was wondering if you allow transformative works of your fics? fics, remixes, fanart, etc? i was hoping to make something inspired by the courage of stars but i wasn't sure if you were comfortable with that.

either way, i hope you have a great day!! thanks again!!

omg thank you so much!!!!!! im so happy to hear it bc honestly tcos might be my favorite of all my fics so far dhfjkds so im very happy when it resonates with someone!!!

and ahh yes absolutely!! theres no better feeling than knowing you inspired someone enough to make something omgggg thank you for asking/offering!!!! i would be thrilled if you make something for it!! :D <3 just include credit ofc and also tag me so i can see it!!!

thank YOU again ♥ i hope you have a great day too!!!

#answers #beemotionpicture #i used so many !!!s in this answer im sorry i swear im not an overexcited puppy.

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zofi-persson · 10 months

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I recently came back to AvA/Animator vs Animation and AvM/Animation vs Minecraft's fandom, and there's something that really got me peeved.

Not to offend anybody, but why people still ship purple and King Orange/Mango? Like, they canonically have a parent-child relationship!

Same thing with the ship between the Hollow Heads (Victim, TCO, TDL and TSC), who are canonically siblings!

I know that they're stick figures, but come on, it's canon that they have familiar bondings with each other!

Still, keep in mind that I'm not trying to attack anybody who ships them, I'm just stating my opinion after being bombarded with fics and fanart of these ships, sometime even pretty explicit.

#animator vs animation #animation vs minecraft #AvA #alan becker #ava the chosen one #ava tco #ava the dark lord #ava tdl #ava the second coming #ava tsc #ava victim #ava purple #ava king orange #ava mango

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storyarcscribe · 2 years

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✨Updates on fics coming up!!✨

7/9/22

I’ll be on a work trip at the top of next week so no major posts Sun-Wed.

However, this is what I have coming up next week when I’m back:

Moon Boys x Reader: Separate Ways inspired fic (angst, blood, bad assery by the moon boys)

Poe Dameron x Reader: Lighten Up Part 3 (IK SHES COMING I PROMISE) TCO ITS POSTED!

Obi Wan x Reader - Stay Part 2 planning

Thank you all so much for the love this week. My heart is so full!! I have a lot of requests in my inbox so I’ll be getting to those in the near future fyi. Wishing everyone a safe and restful start of their week🤍

#storyarcscribe #poe dameron x reader #din djarin x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #moon knight x reader #jake lockley x reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #a03 fic #ao3 author

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spideywhites · 3 months

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I can’t remember if I posted this or not

#naruto #fic: tcos #the color of summer #naruto oc #natsume uzumaki #uzumaki natsume

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nyagrounds · 2 years

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and what if i wrote an unhinged ava/m and homestuck crossover fic where alan is the first guardian, tsc is a human, rgby are trolls, and tco + tdl are from a pre-scatch universe that bleeds into the new one. what would you do then

#animator vs animation #literally the ONLY reason im thinking abt this so much is because i swear to god chosendark and vrisrezi are literally the same #DARK EVEN HAS THE SPIDER MOTIF WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT FROM ME #but also i think rgby in troll culture would be really really funny #that said i WILL ignore all postcanon info on alternian society #...mostly because having the hemospectrum actually be. yknow. A SPECTRUM makes a lot of things easier #...namely red. who would be closer to rust but have traditionally bronze powers #animation vs minecraft #just realized i fucked up the tags WELL WHATEVER IDC ANYMORE...#nyagrounds original

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cherry-colored-petals · 1 year

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PSA:

I'm gonna be taking a hiatus on this blog, more specifically to writing Genshin and for my anon sona.

(Tl;Dr if you don't wanna push the read more: lack of motivation hit me like a semi truck and I've been going through a case of Impostor Syndrome™, and I also feel like my sona is shit so there's that ;v; but I will stay here to post random shit, just no writing stuff mkay? Mkay)

For the past few days, I've been going through a lot of issues about myself. This started mostly on the lack of traction I was getting (which I didn't mind at first, considering this blog is mostly me posting random shit) on my works and people coming to talk to me abt them. It didn't bother me since I was fine with having a few people see my works, but... It's starting to get to me recently.

It made me feel like my works aren't just... As on par as the others, and it slowly got to affecting how I write future fics. TCO (The Chosen One) was also one of the fics that had been hit with my lack of motivation and the traction as well, and because of my internal issues, I've had to take a step back from writing.

It slowly began to affect how I see my anon sona, 🌸🍒. During those days, it's affected me negatively and I've started to dislike writing about them— mostly because I doubt people would really... Enjoy me writing about them.

And even down to how it feels like no one... Really cares about them enough to want to ask about them.

I genuinely don't even know what to do with writing for a fandom such as this when I know there's probably others in my main blog (which I write IDV), and I know it'll pass one day and it won't last forever. But with how things are atm, I feel like my writing just... Isn't on par with everyone else's. And honestly, I don't even know if I can even do anything for this blog.

I'm sorry for the downer of a post. I don't usually write my personal issues like this, but... I just feel like I have to. Even if I know its useless since no one looks at posts like these.

Anyways... PSA over I guess.

#🌸🍒 - navi speaks #🌸🍒 - navi's psa

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toointofiction · 3 years

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How The Queen of Elfhame Learned to Deal with Insufferable Idiots

Hey, cuties!! I have been thinking of writing this little one-shot for a while now and I finally did. Check it out on the link below or keep reading and let me know what you think.

Pairing: Jurdan; Cardan x Jude

Genre: Romance

Rating: Explicit/Mature

Summary: Jude is pissed off and with no other way to let off steam, Cardan comes up with a creative and very effective idea.

Jude is pissed. She’s about two seconds away from running someone through with her sword. Or maybe severing their head from their shoulders. Or arranging a public mass execution. Anything sounds good at the moment. How is it that the entirety of her Living Council consists of idiots recklessly testing her patience? She can practically feel her sword-hand itching and twitching in anticipation. Is it too much to ask for a little competence? Sometimes it’s as if their sole purpose is to enrage her to the point where the only coherent thoughts she has, are homicidal ones.

Fuming, Jude stalks back to her bedchambers, Cardan effortlessly matching her pace. He has an amused look on his handsome face, stealing glances at her every now and then. As if none of what just happened had any sort of effect on him. He should not be having this much fun at her expense. Especially, right now. He is putting his life in danger. Her King seems to think that just because she loves him, he is somehow safe from her wrath. Which may or may not be true, Jude thinks.

She cannot count the times Cardan angered her. More often than those idiots. She seems to recall the time he thought to confront a vicious troll all on his own, with no proper training, protection, or backup. In the middle of the night. She also remembers finding him on the ground, bleeding, and dizzy from iron poisoning. She had been absolutely furious then. She told herself that as soon as he healed, he would get an earful. Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to yell at him. She scolded him, of course. What he did was completely idiotic, but her anger faded quickly. All she felt was relief that he was okay. That the injuries he sustained weren’t serious or life-threatening. Still, it needed about a whole week for the iron to leave his system. The same cannot be said for her Living Council, however. She still wants to kill them, and she doubts her anger will fade any time soon.

Normally, when Jude is this angry, she takes it out on training with the Court of Shadows. To her misfortune, however, she sent them all on a mission two days ago. Just my luck. Jude signs audibly and raises her hand to her temple which feels just about ready to crack open from unrelenting pressure. She must start making some serious personnel changes, otherwise, they’ll soon have to rename it the Dead Council. She also needs to find a way to let go of her anger somehow, before she does something drastic and irreversible. Her King isn’t too keen on the way she likes to solve problems. Even if that way is more than called for sometimes. It’s at that moment that she feels Cardan’s slender arm wrap around her waist, and his lips graze the top of her head.

“Come on, I can help you relax.”

“Nothing can help me relax, now.”

“Don’t start making assumptions just yet,” he responds. His eyes shine in amusement, a small, mischievous smile grazes his lips.

With one arm still around her waist, he uses the other to open the door to their bedchamber and guide her through. As she walks ahead of him and slumps on the bed, she hears him whisper to the guards outside not to allow anyone to disturb them. What is he up to? Jude didn’t have to wonder for long. Cardan appears in front of her, that mischievous smile still on his lips, places his hands on her shoulders, and pushes her back on the bed.

“What are you doing?”

“I told you, I’ll help you relax.”

With that, he leans down and gives her a deep, long kiss. Just way he knows she likes it. She feels his hands on her knees, dragging the material of her dress up. Higher and higher until he has to stop and pull the whole thing off her. As soon as the dress is off, he is back to kissing her lips, her neck, right between her breasts. She can feel his hand moving from her ribs to her breast, squeezing lightly, playing with her nipple. The other, he guides right between her legs, squeezing her once before he gently, torturously stroking her, making her legs twitch. Jude lets out an involuntary moan. She can feel him grinning against her skin. Smug bastard. Before she can even muster a word, he pushed a finger inside of her, making her thoughts scatter away from her, another moan, a very loud one, escapes her lips.

“Okay, fine,” she breaths out. “This is relaxing.”

“I told you.”

His mouth moves to one breast as he pushes another finger inside her. She arches her back, squeezing his hand between her thighs. She tangles her hands in his hair, pulling him closer, feeling his groan deep into her core. She’s not going to last long. He seems to realise this. His hand moves frantically between her thighs, his thumb pressing on her clit. He abandons her breast and gives her another deep kiss as she falls over the edge. Her climax hits her hard. Cardan keeps on kissing her, swallowing her scream. He enjoys making her lose all control. She knows this and it should probably annoy her a little bit. But how could it, when losing control feels so damn good.

She tries to catch her breath after the last of her orgasm fades away. Cardan doesn’t let her, though. He never does. He guides his lips between her breasts again, over her belly, until she feels him between her thighs, still sensitive from the last orgasm. He gives her a gentle kiss that sends shocks through her body, before he starts to feast on her, aggressive and wild. Jude feels another climax coming. Her muscles tense, her eyes locked on her husband, her King as he drives her over the edge again. She wraps her legs around Cardan’s head like an unbreakable collar, pushes both hands into his hair, gripping him in place. If he stops right now, she’s going to be angry again. A few short moments pass, and she falls over the edge again. She moans loudly, knows that the guards outside can definitely hear her, but she doesn’t care. Not when Cardan’s mouth is still on her, helping her ride out her orgasm.

A few moments pass by, as Jude tries to catch her breath. Cardan lets her this time. He rises up the length of her body, that smug expression still on his face. He kisses her once more and she tastes herself in his mouth. He lays next to her, wraps an arm around her limp body, and pulls her to him.

“I guess I don’t have to train my anger away, anymore.”

“Glad to hear it,” Cardan says, dropping a kiss at the top of her head.

A thought pops up inside Jude’s head, and she can feel her mouth stretching into a wicked smile. She turns to face Cardan, “I should probably reciprocate now, right?”

Cardan grins like a Cheshire cat and with a slap on her ass he responds, “I guess you should.”

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