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#i can't write that fic I don't have the single-minded focus needed for that
doctorheusch · 1 year
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THAT'S MY S/O!
their reaction to witnessing their usually calm and composed s/o resorting to cursing/violence. sumeru edition. alhaitham, cyno, tighnari, kaveh.
authors note: i have always wanted to write a fic with multiple characters involved either separately or not. here's my first try. brain lagged at the last parts, i'll edit them soon. hope you guys enjoy! (nervous sweating)
edit: hello! i am now accepting requests. check the rules here in case you're interested. < 3
content warning: uncensored profanities.
word count ৎ୭ 2.6k words. 11.06.2022
penned by @doctorheusch
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The Scribe of Sumeru Akademiya was on a stroll with you, his significant other. It wasn't in either of your daily schedules, however, after observing how you both needed a quick break from your pressuring responsibilities, you suggested taking a walk around Sumeru City to which he agreed. Alhaitham isn't one for expressing himself yet you can see how less tense his body is compared to when he was in the confines of the Akademiya building. You similarly felt a rush of relief, finally breathing fresh air and listening to the normal chatter of the people around rather than the overbearing debates of the matras and your fellow sages. Yes, you are the newly appointed sage of Vahumana, one of the Six Darshans of Sumeru Akademiya specializing in Aetiology.
Lesser Lord Kusanali chose you out of all the outstanding candidates, therefore, you felt inclined to do your best in everything. Alhaitham supported you through and through, you became the pillar of support for each other, keeping your remaining sanity from vanishing. It isn't about the workload or workspace that is the reason for the unthinkable stress you're having but the appointment of the Grand Sage. After Alhaitham refused the position, already satisfied with being the Scribe, the higher-ups of the Akademiya went into an uproar and held daily discussions. Candidate after candidate was presented yet someone would find fault or know the concerning history behind the person which disqualifies their participation.
“Are you thinking of the Grand Sage appointment?” Alhaitham's voice deterred the thoughts in your mind, instantly turning your focus to him. Your fingers are intertwined with his while you stood in front of Puspa Café, perhaps you were too deep in thought that you didn't notice. You nodded with a sigh, “Yes. We can't decide on a single contender, and we've already reached half of the people on the roster.”
Alhaitham led you inside the establishment, lending his opinion on the way, “The position of Grand Sage is second or third to Lesser Lord Kusanali. It's of great importance so the fuss is expected. Nevertheless, it's been two weeks now.”
“Unfortunately.” You shook your head, sitting on the chair as he sat across from you, “There is only a week left to submit our recommendation to Lesser Lord Kusanali.” Your fingers have separated yet your hands are still connected, he has yours delicately in his, gently rubbing the back of your knuckles with his thumb, “Don't fret about it now. We're here to rest from those so get your mind to concentrate on me.”
“You're shamele...” What you were about to say died with the wind as you overheard the conversation on the table behind you. “Those Akademiya bastards know how to be arrogant!” A man exclaimed, clearly angry. Following that, another but younger male voice replied, “Truly. We are here working ourselves to death and they're there in their palace lounging and writing worthless research.”
It isn't surprising that some citizens see the Akademiya and its residents in a negative light, their statements didn't affect you much. But their next words did, “Especially that scribe of theirs! Just sitting around reading a book, what good does he bring to our nation? Don't tell me he's going to use words to fight off hilichurls!”
A round of laughter erupted from them and you smiled with your eyes closed, speaking in a loud, steady, and stern voice, “Oh, what do we have here? Useless damned fucks who can't do anything in their free time are fucking barking. Why don't you try to find out if fucktards like yourselves have a brain or not?”
Silence engulfed the place and when you opened your eyes, Alhaitham is looking straight at you with the smallest of smiles on his face. It is the first time you cursed and he finds it very attractive. He brought the back of your hand to his lips, kissing it softly before chuckling, “That's my darling.”
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Being General Mahamatra is one of the most demanding careers in Sumeru. Protecting the nation and its citizens, upholding justice, and many more. Your lover, Cyno, have these duties engraved in his soul– becoming his life purpose. Yet somehow, you managed to squeeze in the tiny space left in his heart. It fascinated you even. You reminisced the time you confessed, fully expecting to be rejected because you know of his burdens. Nonetheless, his response baffled you, “I'm impressed you took this long to admit it.” was what he said. Turns out that he also specialized in reading emotions even if you were composed and expressionless in the past. Such an event is the precursor of your long years together. Sure, there are occasional arguments but your healthy relationship is incessant.
The boulder you were seated on started to heat up under the raging sunlight of the desert. A little ways further from you, one would witness a torrent of sand flying about yet it isn't a sandstorm, no, the cause of the spectacle is none other than Cyno, Dehya, and Alhaitham sparring. You would have joined if you didn't forget your weapon in your room but you didn't mind watching either. Cyno is acting as the defense against Dehya and Alhaitham's consistent attacks. The way he evades is fluid like water and his counters are as strong as a Desert Sumpter Beast. You already knew his fighting skills are the best but you can't help yourself from feeling awe every time.
They have only just began their session so it would take a while before their stamina are depleted. Deciding to make yourself useful, you easily got off from the boulder, and started your walk towards Aaru Village to collect food and beverages. It wasn't until you were surrounded by mountains on each side that you noticed the eerie silence. Never a good sign. Stopping in your steps, you strained your ears to listen. Cyno taught you this trick for safety purposes and it worked all the time. You turned your head towards the left, eyes on a hill, “Come out, there's no use in organizing an ambush. You're not cowards, are you?”
“Who are you calling cowards!” Someone stepped out from behind the hill, an old Eremite carrying a crossbow. It's string already loaded with an arrow. “Who else could be here?” You rolled your eyes, voice filled with sarcasm, “I'm not talking to ghosts, am I?”
“Why, you!” The old man fumed and you found amusement in his reaction, “Yes, me. What about me?”
The old Eremite was about to raise and his hand and point at you, ready to give you a lecture, however, “That's the General Mahamatra's partner.” Another person chimed in as a girl with blades in each hand appeared. You smiled at the thought of Cyno, and nodded, “At last, someone sensible.”
In a minute time, you were surrounded by Eremites and the joy in your heart couldn't be expressed. You gave them a small bow with your hand over your heart, “May the best fighter win.”
Alhaitham, Dehya, and Cyno finished their spar, the latter immediately noticing your absence in the area, “Where's (Y/N)? They were there awhile ago.” Dehya also took notice and inquired as she watched Cyno suddenly run in a direction. Alhaitham, “Well, there's your answer.”
Reaching the area where your scent is strongest, Cyno ceased his sprint. He was greeted by a number of unconscious bodies scattered on the ground and you standing in the middle. You are twisting your right wrist and sighing... in disappointment? The General Mahamatra knew what occurred from the picture alone. He knows you are strong, he just didn't know that you are this strong yet his little heart worried still. Approaching your figure, he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind as he buried his nose at the side of your neck, breathing your fragrance in.
“I'm fine, Cyno. No need to worry.” You melted into his embrace, placing your hands over his. He didn't answer verbally opting to place a kiss on your neck then another just below the first one. Cyno spoke, “I don't trust stairs.”
“Oh? Why is that?”
“They're always up to something.”
“Beloved...”
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Withering Zones became more frequent in Gandharva Ville and the neighboring subareas of the Avidya Forest again. Fortunately, you were around and hearing of this, you postponed your trip to Port Ormos. Nothing is more important than the nature you grew to love. Following the Forest Rangers that caught sight of an affected site, you prepared your polearm. It was a gift from your sister back in Mondstadt, she called it a ‘Dragonspine Spear’ in her letter. Who knows why a sister of the Favonian Church would have one but you've cherished it greatly and living without the weapon is unsettling for you. As your party drew close to the vicinity, you asked them to wait for you before entering by yourself. You can't afford to have casualties, not rendered by the Withering Zone but you.
You have a fighting prowess comparable to the General Mahamatra, however, you lose your sense of morality in battle; making you a bloodthirsty warrior. There was a period in the past where your control dissipated and you ran havoc. Thankfully, nobody got hurt because a certain Forest Ranger managed to induce you to a state of unconsciousness. The monsters attracted by the Withering Zone this time are fiercer than usual, a smile pulling on the corners of your lips, “What a perfect challenge.”
The monsters surprised cries sounded when you entered their field of vision, it seemed like they were waiting for you to send them to the Abyss. Without missing a beat, you wielded your polearm with grace, slashing both small and overgrown mushrooms in pieces, their fluids staining your cheek and clothes.
Tighnari watched from a tree branch, the splendor you performed at present is the same one he witnessed years ago. To him, it's simply stunning. The way you express yourself through elegant movements; your weapon appearing like an extension of your body, lethal yet pretty. Back then, he didn't get to watch much since there were bystanders who were bound to be targets in your eyes but now, he can observe with all his heart. How did he manage to get you as his lover is a question even he, himself, didn't know how to answer. Tighnari just knew that he's the luckiest person alive right now. You and him are akin to two peas in a pod, different from one another but great together. He relished in that fact.
Sensing your combat coming to a halt, he jumped down from his place and walked to your side. Handing his handkerchief over as he looked at the monsters’ remains. The small chunks on the ground are void of what they once were, unrecognizable, like they're just colored dirt. To be able to achieve this surely, you are outstanding and breathtaking at the same time.
“Have you gotten a nice view from up there?” You asked, naturally accepting his handkerchief and using it to wipe your face. He nodded, turning to meet your bright emerald irises, “You were and will forever be beautiful, love.”
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Criticisms are normal for students of Sumeru Akademiya and they actively seek it regardless. Each one thrives for perfection, if they cannot achieve that then they wouldn't be satisfied with themselves and their projects. Kaveh is similarly driven by the goal of achieving the best, he will never settle for anything less. Moreover, as someone from the Kshahrewar Darshan, his designs can have absolutely no flaw. Although he is already a well-known architect, he didn't let himself fall into the depths of seeking intelligence to a great extent, he has an established baseline and concentrated mind which aids him in progressing. With all these said, why did he feel dislike for this group of people surrounding him and sneering? The criticisms they threw are not similar to the educational ones he usually heard or asked for. He knew that they were intentionally speaking of every bad thing about him that they can think of, taking those ideas out of context and rubbing it on his face.
Kaveh isn't a vengeful person but he does have feelings like every other human, he can't deny that this confrontation was nipping on the walls he built against strangers. He couldn't escape since they cornered him from all sides with their arrogant figures and attitudes, moreover, he couldn't resort to violence since that is against the laws of the Akademiya. Therefore, he is stuck listening to their theatrical nonsense. Everything was fine at first, they said things about his projects, how they said he's incompetent and couldn't reach the top. It was alright until they mentioned your name. His most precious treasure, the person who holds his heart in the palms of their hands after he voluntary gave it to you. If the discussion was focused on him, he could take it, but they picked up the darkening gaze Kaveh has and followed the topic on you.
“Isn't (Y/N) a part of the Rtawahist Darshan? Who knows if they're going to get demoted because they followed the last Grand Sage, Azar.” A petite girl giggled, her face full of mocking smiles, Kaveh wanted to slap her. The boy beside her clicked his tongue, “A good-looking face but their ability to choose schools is a little... Are they stupid?” Those two questions made the only architect in their midst clench his fists. Kaveh knows that you didn't want him to be violent since that's just giving the Akademiya a reason to expel him but how can he not move now? They were desecrating you right in front of him. Well, you both can meet outside the Akademiya if all turns bad. When he was about to raise his fist, the next person who was speaking got cut off by a thick flying book which landed rather hard at the back of his head.
“Did I just hear someone call me stupid?” Your voice echoed in the room as you appeared, walking through the doors. Kaveh entered a state of shock. You were never this harsh or if you were, he didn't see a glimpse of it. The boy who got hit in the head rubbed the sore spot, turning around angrily and instantly pointing at the newcomer, “How dare you throw a book at me! I'm reporting this to the General Mahamatra.”
“Go ahead.” You crossed your arms, your feet stopping just a meter away from the group, “You're just a bunch of dumb assholes without regard with your lives.” Kaveh is now in a daze, what about violence? You also never cursed! Why does he find it hot though— Ah, back up. “You little bitch!” The girl who talked about you getting demoted lunged to slap you. Seeing this, you simply stepped aside and caught her wrist in a tight grip, slowly twisting it in an ugly angle, “Are you sure I'm the bitch here, you little shit?”
To everyone's surprise, the girl let out a cry of pain, her unshed tears threatening to fall. You smiled as you threw her arm away with force, letting her land on the ground while clutching her injured hand, “Who wants to go next?”
The moment you uttered those words, the group of jerks returned to their senses and hurried away, carrying their weeping friend with them. “Don't ever bother my lover again!” You called out to their retreating backs, your face giving a look that would tell anyone: you're done with people. Sighing, you were about to ask if Kaveh is alright but was interrupted when your lips were suddenly covered with another pair of soft ones, bringing you into a gentle kiss. Kaveh's hand went through the locks of your hair, pulling you closer in the kiss. You are his significant other, his perfect significant other.
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Master List
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This page is geared towards an 18+ Audience. Please read through any warnings at the start of fics as they are there for a reason.
My Ao3 Account- LoveIsAnImaginaryDagger
My Wattpad Account- LovePersevering2
Who I write for: Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanoff, other Marvel Women
What I will write: Smut, fluff, angst, g!p, au
Wanda Maximoff
Oneshots (All 18+)
New Neighbours- After meeting a beautiful woman in a store, you soon discover that she's your neighbour and she's single.
Devil In Disguise- Wanda isn't as innocent as everyone thinks she is.
Break Me- Wanda needs you to be rough with her and give her exactly what she wants.
Detention- Your Professor keeps you behind after class as you were distracted.
Take Control Of Me- You ask Wanda to use you as she wishes.
Are You Interested? -  "I'm very attracted to you, would you be interested in having an affair?"
Heatwave Fun- You and your girlfriend find a way to cool down during a heatwave.
Dirty Thoughts- While babysitting the twins, Wanda is left to listen to all the sinful thoughts of the older woman flickering through your mind.
Listen To Mommy- Your Mommy teaches you a lesson after being a brat.
Focus- Wanda tests how well you can concentrate while her hands roam your body.
Can't I?- "You can't control me the way you do them." "Can't I?"
Teach Me- After tutoring the twins, their mother decides to give you your own personal lesson.
Touch Me- You beg Wanda to give you what you desperately want.
Protective Girlfriend- Wanda gets worried when you hurt yourself in training. You find a way to convince her that you're perfectly fine.
Boyfriend- Inspired by the song by Dove Cameron
Please...- An affair that turns into more.
So Wrong- How can something so wrong feel so right?
We're Going To Get Along Just Fine- You go home with a mysterious woman from the bar.
Attention (G!P Reader) - You're girlfriend thinks you're spending too much time focussing on work so you give her the attention she wants.
A Workout To Remember (G!P Reader)- Your Gym crush makes a move on you.
Trick Or Treat (G!P Reader)- Loosely inspired by WV ep6 and the phrase trick or treat.
Lingerie (G!P Reader)- Wanda surprises you in a new lace set.
Series (All 18+)
The Babysitter (WIP- Currently 144k words)- In need of money and a way to escape the problems at home, you get a job babysitting two lovely boys named Billy and Tommy Maximoff. What happens when you start to feel things you shouldn't for their mother? Will it bloom into love or leave you heartbroken?
Secrets (Completed- 23k words)- DARK FIC- "Do you swear on your life?" She lets her fingers trail up your arm, moving to your drag along the side of your neck and your jaw before resting on your chin, holding your face to look at her.
"I swear on my life," you whisper, unable to look away from her.
"Would you be interested in having an affair?"
This fic also includes relationship with Natasha Romanoff in which the reader is not faithful in.
Enemies With Benefits (Completed- 16k Words)- You hated her. She hated you. It was just sex. Nothing could possibly go wrong, right?
Miss Maximoff (Completed- 8k) - After strange circumstances, you find yourself falling for the married woman next door.
I Don't Hate You- After going too far in training, Steve makes you check up on Wanda. Upon hearing a groan, panic fills you before you hear your name falling off her lips in a desperate moan. Oh.
Natasha Romanoff
One Shots
I Wanted You- "We tried so hard not to be torn apart. But at the end of it all, we both wanted something different...I wanted you. And you...you didn't want them to know."
Daddy Issues- TW for Abuse. Inspired by the song Daddy Issues by the Neighbourhood
Warm Us Up (18+)- After your reluctance to work together causes you to be stranded in a safehouse, You come up with an idea on how to stop the two of you freezing to death.
Series (All 18+)
The Soldier Of Death (WIP- Currently 32k words) Warning of graphic depictions of violence. - Soldat Smerti. The Soldier of Death. You were the perfect weapon: loyal, obedient, and merciless, or so Hydra thought. What happens when these traits are put to the test? Your captivity in the Avenger's tower and the presence of a redhead makes you realise you didn't have to be a monster. The question was though; Did Hydra make you the monster or were you always one?
Secrets (Completed- 23k) Dark Fic- Same fic as the one mentioned in the Wanda Series section.
Love Is For Children (Completed 43k) - "You love her, don't you?" "Loved. I loved her."
Bad Idea (Completed 4.7k) - A friends with benefits story that turns into lovers.
You Need Me- Natasha should hate you. You're the enemy. But she can't lie and say you were wrong. She did need you.
Miss Romanoff- What happens when the mysterious woman you went home with turned out to be your new professor...
Wanda And Natasha X Reader
Should Have Knocked- You accidentally walk in on Wanda and Nat in a compromising position. What you didn't expect was for them to ask you to join them.
The Devil And An Angel- Your girlfriends tempt you to sin.
Alone In The Compound- Thinking you were alone, you and Wanda take advantage of the emptiness of the compound. What you didn't expect was for the Black Widow to walk in on you two.
More posts with links to be added soon, all of posts are on my other accounts so check them out if you want to read them before I post them on here :)
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anistarrose · 1 month
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The thing about the Heart Attack segment in Wonderland is that they put so much aromantic subtext in it. They accidentally put SO much aromantic subtext in it, on behalf of multiple characters, and I'm thinking about it constantly. Let me tell you all about it.
Magnus is dropped into a dating game and literally leads with "I cannot stress enough how uninterested I am in this." Now, it's perfectly valid to read this as due to him waiting for Julia, or just him being plain old uncomfortable with having his love life put in the spotlight. However! I cannot stress enough the exchange that happens just a minute or two after that line:
Magnus (describing his ideal date): ... and we don't see each other again, ‘cause I'm really not interested in dating. Audience: [exaggerated] Oooooh! (cheers) Griffin: The silhouette is like, fanning itself. Lydia: Playing hard to get, huh? It seems like our contestant is into that.
And I just have to say: unfortunately, this is one of the most aromantic fucking experiences I've seen represented in fiction in my life. I mean — saying you're not interested in romance, then having those words twisted on you, like they're some secret coded way of saying that you are interested in romance? Not having a single way to express your disinterest that'll actually be believed? That's some aro shit right there. God. Fuck.
As an aside, it's enough to really tell that Heart Attack is not designed to be a reprieve from the pain, even though it's the "good outcome" of Trust or Forsake. It's designed to be uncomfortable. To funnel suffering to Edward and Lydia, just like all the other games do. (More on that later, in fact.) But in summary:
Magnus is a character who can be read as uncomfortable with romance for either aro-spec reasons or unrelated reasons. But in either case, his discomfort attracts reactions that reek of amatonormativity — and therefore, resonate with aromantic experiences. (Psst, I did recently write a gray-aro Magnus fic!)
Two more analyses below the cut (and only one of them is for another Horny Boy):
Obviously the next character I need to talk about is Merle. I've found aroallo readings of his character to be compelling for a long time (having sex with plants so you don't have to worry about romantic commitment, am I right?), but the way he describes his "ideal date" is another factor:
Merle: I volunteer to drive her vehicle, and tell her it's filthy, and so we go through the uh- drive through vehicle wash and she pays for that too. Um, and then I take her to have dinner with my family, and- Magnus: Wait, like your wife and stuff? Merle: She meets my ex-wife.
Merle's probably exaggerating as a joke, continuing on about both him and his partner being miserable, but I think the fact that Merle's mind goes here is genuinely drawing from a lot of poor romantic experiences in the past. He didn't get a choice about being on Heart Attack, and his marriage with Hecuba was similarly "arranged".
It's also worth noting that at this point in time, Merle is putting in the work to be part of Mavis and Mookie's lives again, but is not interested in doing the same for Hecuba — he instead just asks Mavis how Hecuba's doing. That said, given that Magnus is the one to put the focus on Merle's ex-wife, I think it's fair to read the "family" comment as Merle actually expressing that he'd rather spend time with his kids than give any special romantic attention to his date. Moving on to the rest of the "joke":
Merle: She's having a miserable time and she's really mad, she can't wait to get outta there. I take her back to her house, and so I lean up against the door jam and say, 'Sure you don't want me to come in for a few minutes?' and she slams the door in my face.
It's possible Merle just has a more roundabout, self-deprecating way of expressing a similar thing to what Magnus did: Merle just isn't interested in dating. To me, the last line implies he might not say no to sex, if offered — but overall, it reads as if Merle is putting minimal effort in because he's looking for an excuse to get out of this relationship anyway.
It's also possible that Merle's "rejection" of a suitor being so disguised as humor could point to him still coming to terms with his disinterest in dating. Particularly, in comparison to Magnus, who is so vocal and unashamed about it, while Merle might still be figuring this all out.
(Honestly, the self-deprecation Merle turns to here is actually kind of sad, when viewed in that light — he already lets himself be the butt of jokes so often, and now he feels like the way romance doesn't click for him has to be a joke, too? Oof. Someone give him a hug and tell him he's not broken this instant!) But regardless:
Merle views dates, and perhaps romance in general, as things that will inevitably turn disastrous for him and any party involved with him, and he would rather spend time with his children than repairing a relationship with an ex, or cultivating a relationship with a new partner. This is not an experience exclusive to the aro-spec umbrella, but you can't say that an aromantic reading of his character doesn't fit him like a gardening glove...
...which he wears while fucking his plants. Because plants don't demand emotional intimacy, nor take too much time away from the platonic relationships that matter more to him. And you know what? He's fucking valid for that! Fly your flag, nasty grandpa!
But moving on: I promised you aromantic analysis of characters outside of our protagonists, and henceforth, that analysis I will provide. And not just because I admittedly see Taako as the token alloromantic (though clearly an aro ally; if he hadn't chosen Forsake we wouldn't have gotten all this incredible characterization!)
I digress. So let's go on to addressing the lich twins in the room: Edward and Lydia.
Remember my argument earlier that Heart Attack serves the purpose of collecting suffering just like the rest of Wonderland does? How it's just a subtler way of making Wonderland's victims fundamentally uncomfortable?
...Using, of all things, romance?
How the vogue twins, for whatever reason, felt inspired to make people uncomfortable with matchmaking and adoration? How, some way or another, they noticed how much potential romance had to induce suffering? Being pressured into a relationship, being told that no matter how firmly you say you're uninterested, you're not really uninterested?
...Relatedly, I have always gotten the sense that Edward and Lydia projected relentlessly onto their victims.
Edward: This resolve, this desire to do whatever it takes no matter the cost to save yourselves — do you know who you three remind me of? Magnus: No? Merle: Who? Edward: Us!
I'm even going to go a step further and say that on top of projection, they want their victims to go through things they went through. Swallowing the guilt of having fucked someone else over to survive, of course — that's basically self-admitted. But possibly also... the feeling of not being able to get back what you lost (Keats). The feeling of being able to heal (Keats).
So, where does that leave Heart Attack?
Lydia: It was the three of us, surviving against all odds. The world against us.
Their family of three was (is) indescribably important to them. I'm not necessarily saying that societal expectations of romance, especially of romance as a priority above that of family, left a bad taste in their mouths — if not downright contributing to their trauma — but, okay, I wrote the rest of this post and now that I'm back, I can no longer deny it. I'm definitely, absolutely saying that.
At the time of the podcast, we know Edward and Lydia's own relationship is heavily strained. Until the end, they are lying to themselves and to each other about the fact that they continue to be emotionally and magically reliant on each other. After all, Lydia wouldn't say "I guess we really needed each other after all" in her dying moments with such surprise otherwise.
This is the second reason that I... well, I wouldn't quite call it a "theory," but I find it most impactful to read Edward and Lydia as characters for whom the concept of Love has baggage. And always has, from their origins as youth in a tough spot in an already amatonormative world.
Maybe the constant societal devaluing of platonic, familial bonds left them with serious emotional scars. Maybe the constant conflation of Love and morality just weighed on them and weighed on them and weighed on them until they decided: well, we don't love the way people expect us to, so we might as well give up on being the good people they expect us to be. We might as well embrace this new fuel of suffering.
...And you know, I hope this gets across what I mean when I always say I headcanon villains as aromantic to make them more sympathetic.
Edward and Lydia, textually, are already tragic villains. As twins and liches, they're also textually foil characters to several of the Seven Birds. But I also like to think that they have a lot in common with Magnus and Merle, and the possibility that tugs at my heartstrings the most is the possibility of them all falling under the aromantic umbrella.
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toxicpineapple · 4 months
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writing tips masterpost
hello to my loyal tumblr followers... i am often asked to give writing advice but usually when people ask me this i'm nooooot completely sure what to say despite having a ton of advice to give. it's such a broad question when there are so many different things i can advise on, right? so i thought i'd make a sort of writing advice masterpost where i can compile the tips that i think people specifically in fandoms could benefit the most from hearing, OR that i wish someone had told me when i was still finding my footing as a writer.
hopefully this will be helpful to you. i am putting all of the advice under a read more since this is going to be a long one. let's roll!
✬ paragraph breaks are your friend
the fastest way to get me to stop reading a fic is if i click in and see that there are NO paragraphs made and the entire piece is in a huge block of text. no matter how good your work is, i just can't read it at that point. the giant paragraph makes me get lost, i can't focus on anything... it's a huge no.
the trick is you want your paragraphs to sort of act as a guide for your reader, taking them through the story, keeping them engaged. do not be afraid to do short paragraphs! i can understand wanting to shy away from one or two sentence paragraphs for fear of not having "enough substance" in your work, but the truth is, a thousand short paragraphs is ten times easier to read than a huge block of text.
realistically, you want to have a good amount of variety in your paragraph length. variety is key. readers will notice when your work gets formulaic, and some people will like that, but for others that can turn people away from your work. but don't force it! a paragraph should end at the end of a statement, or if the paragraph is getting too long then cut off the thought and continue in the next paragraph with a transitional phrase.
as a general rule of thumb, you want lines of dialogue by different speakers to be put in separate paragraphs. you also want to avoid doing huge chunks of narration or exposition in the same paragraph as you introduce a new speaker. just make a new paragraph! no big deal. i guarantee you your reader will be way more engaged and nobody is going to come at you for doing more rather than less.
✬ make sure the reader knows who is speaking and when
you don't have to end off every line of dialogue with "she said" and in fact i would really recommend you don't. but you ALWAYS need to have some kind of indication in the text as to who is speaking, otherwise the reader can get lost.
this doesn't necessarily mean that you always have to explicitly say who is saying what, though. if it is obvious in a scene who is saying something -- so for example, a scene where there are only two characters talking OR the dialogue has some kind of phrase, statement, etc that makes it obvious who the speaker is -- then in that case you can just let the dialogue speak for itself. sometimes in writing less can be more. you disrupt the flow of a scene if you start to exposit unnecessarily when the reader could reasonably work something out for themself.
✬ "said" is your friend too
related to the last piece of advice, here's another note: don't shy away from using the word "said".
don't overuse it, either. obviously, you don't want every single line to be "he says" "she says" back and forth, especially when they might be asking questions or shouting, in which case the word "said" probably isn't all that applicable at all. but it's a nice default. if you catch yourself busting out the thesaurus, my recommendation? quit it. just use said. it's not going to hurt you and the reader isn't going to mind.
but yeah, in the event that a character is raising their voice, whispering, inquiring -- there are tons of other words you can use in lieu of said and then an adverb. it's just context-dependent, and also, you don't really want to lean too far one way or another. like i said, variety is key. too much of the same breaks immersion.
✬ if you wouldn't say it yourself, probably don't use it in writing
another related tip. look, i get it. you want to spruce up your writing with synonyms. but the fact of the matter is that a lot of these words that "mean the same thing" on paper actually have wildly differing connotations and if you don't understand what those are you're going to look kind of silly whipping out a word you just found off the internet. we can usually tell, too.
your vocabulary will naturally grow and expand as you continue to read and learn. you don't have to try and force it to seem smarter in your writing. people who can write compelling prose and dialogue without throwing in fancy words they barely understand look a lot more intelligent than people who have a thesaurus at the ready 24/7.
✬ if there's a simpler way to say it, take it
this one can be sort of style-dependent, so if it's not your cup of tea then feel free to take or leave this tip, but in my opinion, taking a whole seven-line paragraph to describe a simple action wastes both your and the readers' time.
how many times have you read a fic where the main characters are having a conversation with these long rambling paragraphs between lines of dialogue? sometimes this makes sense! if you were writing a death note fic it would absolutely make sense for light or L to be pausing every few seconds to carefully analyse their opponent's move... but that's not always the case. sometimes characters are just making small talk.
i'm not saying you can't show off. you should show off where applicable. but there's a time and place. sometimes a scene benefits more from you taking the easy way to describe something and moving on. flowery language is great, but if you're meandering too much the reader will lose interest and attention.
✬ a metaphor is useless if nobody knows what it means
writing is subjective and highly personal. write for yourself first and foremost, and use the metaphors that feel right to you -- but the best metaphorical pieces, to me, are the ones that people can understand and identify with.
you've read a story like that, haven't you? with a reoccurring theme or motif that comes back into play at the end in a way that makes you feel so satisfied and complete? THAT'S what you aim for with literary devices like that. if you write a story that nobody can understand, with metaphors that just don't make any sense -- then you haven't really successfully told a good story, have you?
i understand wanting to have a magnum opus. i think it's easy to fall into the "misunderstood writer" mindset where you want your pieces to be so magnificent that only the likeminded will get it -- but writing is a form of communication. metaphor is just another means with which we can illustrate how we feel. you WANT your readers to understand what you're doing with the metaphors, you WANT the people who step away from your story to know what you were trying to say. you don't have to be obvious, just make it good. make it something that can be reasonably drawn from the text.
at the end of the day flowery language is just flowery language. that doesn't actually make your story good.
✬ grammar intermission
(.) period/full stop: used at the end of sentences. oftentimes not used at the end of sentences in dialogue, because lines of dialogue are considered a fragment of a larger sentence. use a period/full stop at the end of a line of dialogue if the dialogue is followed up by another complete sentence. example:
"i just went to the store," he said, scratching his head.
"i just went to the store." he scratched his head.
(,) comma: used in the middle or to separate different clauses (parts/sections) of sentences. used for incomplete clauses, AKA sections of the sentence that could not function as individual sentences. also used to indicate a slight pause. example:
she reached for the ripest banana, plucking it from the bunch.
a comma can also be replaced by a conjunction like "and" or "but". example:
she reached for the ripest banana and plucked it from the bunch.
(;) semi colon: used to separate different complete clauses in sentences, AKA sections of the sentence that are related but COULD function individually as their own sentences. example:
he sighed as he looked out the window; it had been so long since he stepped outside.
not to be confused with
(:) colon: used at the end of a line that leads into or introduces another line. example:
his fingers drummed restlessly against the window sill. it was finally happening: he was finally leaving this place.
(-) hyphen: used to connect compound words like three-years-old or hyphenated surnames like jones-smith.
(–) en dash: used to indicate ranges of time or distance, like 3–4 hours.
(—) em dash: a girl's best friend. slash j. but an em dash is used to indicate a few different things: an abrupt end to a thought or sentence, a "cut-in" where you interject something tangentially or unrelated before returning to the original thought, or a diversion in the sentence/thought. examples:
"no, listen, you don't understand—"
he scowled—an ugly look on his usually handsome features—and told her to be quiet.
it's not like she had wanted it to go that way—but when had it ever mattered what she wanted?
(()) parentheses: used to add additional context, information, or a semi-unrelated thought that would break the flow of an ongoing sentence without completely taking the reader out. example:
"no, i'm sorry. i just forgot to call you this morning," he said, looking away. (in truth, he'd sat by the phone for fifteen minutes trying to psyche himself into it, but hadn't been able to muster the courage.)
✬ show don't tell, and tell don't show
show don't tell is one of the classic pieces of writing advice that i do, often, think is correct -- but it's a little more nuanced than just never telling your readers what a character is thinking. you want the work to speak for itself without you implanting messages or themes into the reader's brain. at the same time though you don't want them to be doing too much work because it breaks immersion.
this ties into what i was saying above about simpler being better sometimes. you want to be concise especially in scenes that might call for it. a fight scene should be quick and snappy. no need to dig into the physical sensation of being enraged -- just say the character is pissed! but if a character is having a meltdown or panicking, you can get SO much more out of describing how that feels than just outright saying it.
✬ remember your perspective
another huge thing with show don't tell is that you don't want your character to be able to objectively say what everyone else is thinking and feeling -- unless that makes sense for them within the context of the story. really dig into it. DOES the character have a reason to know what their opponents, friends, etc are thinking? how well do they know the other characters? how attentive are they to the emotions of those around them?
it's better to focus on descriptions than labels in that case. say what face a character is making, describe their body language or tone. your character can have impressions, just make it clear that those ARE their impressions. and let your character be wrong! they do not have to be a completely objective source of information.
✬ when it comes to representation, if you aren't confident you can do it well, don't do it at all
i'm one of those people who's kind of of the opinion that white or cishet or otherwise systemically advantaged people have no place being the loudest voices in conversations about representation, least of all AS the representatives. if you are someone with systemic privilege and you choose to portray someone who is oppressed -- that's not necessarily a bad thing. but you need to be willing to do your research and have a sensitivity reader, and you have to be ready for people to say you did it wrong.
not much else to be said about that. your voice on the matter isn't actually all that important. there are people from the demographics involved who DO have stories to tell about themselves that will be MUCH more valuable than your perception of them, so it's honestly better to just let them tell it. that's how i feel.
✬ don't break the rules unless you know how to follow them. in other words, your rebellion should be obvious
a lot of times i see people breaking grammar or other rules and citing "stylistic" choices as their reasons why. which is all good and well, to an extent -- but you want it to be very clear that you ARE breaking the rules on purpose in a way that adds to the artistic merit of your piece.
if you don't know the rules, then it really just comes across like messy work. you both have to know how to apply the rules, and also how to break them in a stylistically significant way. if it doesn't make sense for the rules to be broken, if it says nothing... it's honestly better to just follow them. that's my take.
✬ don't be scared of names and pronouns
i said before that you want variety in your work, and that is very very true -- but it's also true that certain words like names, pronouns, etc will sort of blend into the background in writing. people don't notice them. that means if you're using a name or pronoun a lot in a scene to make it clear who exactly is being referred to...
hey. look into my eyes. breathe. it's okay. you do not have to resort to highlighting arbitrary characteristics of the characters. i know. just breathe. it's okay. use their names. they have them for a reason. it's all good.
this isn't to say that you SHOULDN'T do that, just do it when it makes sense to. if height is something the characters are noticing then use "the shorter boy". if age is relevant, eye colour, hair colour, whatever -- go ahead and use them. but don't be excessive with it. i should not be having to read the bluenette more than i'm reading shuichi's actual goddamn name.
✬ read
this is the huge one. reading other works informs your writing. it teaches you skills and tricks you can use. it helps expand your dialogue and your world view. it might even highlight to you things you do too much of in your own writing. read, all the time, whenever you can. it doesn't have to be books. it can be fanfic, articles, whatever -- just keep reading, because you will be passively absorbing knowledge during that time and it'll help you grow as a writer.
✬ practice
BOOOOOO TOMATO TOMATO TOMATO! SHE SAID THE THING SHE SAID IT!
but listen, it's literally just true. i write almost every day for at least a couple of hours and i have been on a trend of consistent growth for the past five years. go read my fics from 2019 if you don't believe me. i've grown fast and i've grown constantly. you just DO grow through constant practice, even if it doesn't always seem that way.
not only that, but you start to build confidence too. writing a lot helps develop those muscles to a point where you start to realise that you ARE that good and you DO have that dawg in you. or whatever. you just have to keep at it. you're not going to magically improve thinking for six months about how you want to be a better writer without practicing anything about it.
✬ yeah, betas are good
you want to have a good editor. i know that that can feel like having someone ELSE be the reason your piece is good, but that's genuinely not it. a beta reader is a second pair of eyes on your work, someone who can tell you about the issues and mistakes you're missing. they'll tell you when something doesn't make sense. they'll point out your punctuation errors. you don't NEED to have a good editor for every crummy little oneshot... but it's good to have one.
✬ numbers are fine and all but don't compare yourself to other people
i think almost everyone in some kind of creative pursuit wants to get some kind of acknowledgement for it. we want to be the best we can be, and it can be discouraging to receive utterly no validation along the way! i get it!!
just don't get caught up in crunching the numbers. you are not as good as your fanbase is. you alone know your skillset and you absolutely should not say "well this other writer got THIS much attention" because that'll just wear you down. it really will. external validation will only keep you going for so long, and you'll always end up needing more. you HAVE to build your own personal confidence first or you'll crash and burn.
✬ read your writing out loud
there is no quicker way to see if something is wonky in your prose than reading it out loud and seeing if it makes sense verbally. i highly recommend this to anybody who struggles with sentence flow. it's a good one.
✬ yippee hooray!
🥰 and that's what i've got for now. thank you if you made it this far, please take all these tips as you will, it is all subjective of course, these are just the tips that help Me the most when i sit down to write something.
please feel free to ask me for additional advice (on specific topics if you could!) at any time, i love encouraging new writers and i am passionate about writing so i will gladly offer support in any way i can, including beta reading works for anybody who might need that.
take care now 💖
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darkreflections-zine · 11 months
Text
Dark Reflections is now accepting submissions!
Dark Reflections is an all-Trek zine focusing on the Mirror Universe and other dark universes. We welcome the dark, the macabre, the unsavoury and the morally dubious.
Please read the FAQ under the cut before submitting anything. Feel free to join our Discord server for quick answers to questions, hanging out with other submitters, beta reader requests, and work reminders.
Submissions close October 10th. Send submissions to [email protected]
FAQ
What counts as a mirror universe?
According to Fanlore, a mirror universe is any alternate universe which is a dark reflection (pun intended) of the original. Whether this is the mirror universe we see in the shows or in beta canon, or a completely new universe that is simply not as kind to our characters as the original is up to you. Keep in mind that this zine focuses on and embraces the more "evil" aspects of those universes.
What can I submit to the zine?
Writing (fic and poetry) and art (traditional or digital, including comics) can all be submitted. We don't accept manips, meta essays (essays written in-universe may be allowed), mood boards, or anything that can't be printed, such as vids and podfics. Fics must not exceed 25,000 words, though depending on quality and number of submissions we may choose more, shorter works over fewer, longer ones. There is no lower limit for writing. Art must be completed, which means no sketches. Traditional art should be scanned, 300p. Written files should be .docx or .pdf, and art files should be .png, .jpg or .tiff. Links to Google Docs are also accepted.
Is there anything I can't write about?
Despite this zine embracing and encouraging potentially controversial subject matters, there are a few things we won't accept. Generally speaking, though, unless you're writing nazi roleplay erotica (for example) we're not likely to reject your fic on subject matter alone.
What show/ship/characters does the zine focus on?
Ideally, all of them. We'd like for this to be an all-Trek zine. However, if we get an overwhelming majority of one series we may end up rejecting a single work from a different one, even if it normally would have gotten in, just to keep everything cohesive. Either way, we will not accept OC-centric works.
Can I submit a work that has been published somewhere else? e.g. AO3, another zine, ect.
No. We only accept new works.
Does my work need to be beta read before submission?
Preferably, yes. We will edit works which have been accepted and which require it. All works in the zine will match in editing style, though we'll try to keep the author's style intact.
If I submit multiple works, how many are likely to get in?
We would prefer to give as many creators an opportunity to participate as possible, but if there is room or your works are particularly fitting, we will include multiple.
Do I need experience to submit works?
No. We will gladly accept works from new creators.
Do I need to join the discord server to participate?
No. The server gives you easier access to the editor, granting quicker answers to any questions you may have, as well as general accountability and greater sense of community, but that is all.
How do you match fic and art?
Ideally, we will have some solid matches from the get-go. If necessary, we will ask submitters who have volunteered to pinch hit for fics with no art. Art with no matches will separate poems or end up on one of the covers.
Will there be merch?
Possibly.
After the zine is published, can I post my work to AO3/social media?
We reserve printing rights for six months after publication (the day printed zines will be shipped). After that, you may do with your work as you wish.
How much will the zine cost?
This depends on a number of factors. However, we will endeavour to keep the zine as cheap as possible. We cannot legally make money off of fanworks, nor do we wish to. A free pdf copy of the zine will be sent to everyone who has purchased a physical copy, and these digital copies will be available to purchase at a much discounted price.
I have another question that isn't listed here.
Shoot us an ask! All asks are tagged #qna to make finding them easier. Please check if we have answered your question there before sending a new one.
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gaybananabread · 9 months
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Hii! Would you mind writing a tickle fic (platonic) with lee bakugou, and lers top 3 heroes (endeavor, hawks, best jeanist). Thank you so much in advance!! P.S. please no foot tickles
Oooo interesting group! And you're welcome! Fair warning, it's a touch angsty before the fluffy stuff. I had an idea and kinda went with it (it's a long one), hope you Enjoy!
Lee: Bakugou
Lers: Endeavor, Hawks, Best Jeanist
Summary: When given a special chance to train and work with the Top 3 Heros, Bakugou can't seem to get anything right. His temporary teachers notice, and decide to give him a morale boost.
Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don't like that, scroll away!
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Bakugou, to put it simply, was blowing it. He had been invited to train with the Top 3 Heros for a month, and he really wanted to impress them. He would never admit it, but their approval meant everything to him.
He would get training from one of them a day. After a training session with each, they gave him pieces of advice.
Hawks said to relax, to let his instincts take over and his anger fade. Fight them, but don't give it your all at first. Figure them out, their moves and styles. He wanted him to see the whole picture before really attacking.
Endeavor said to use his anger, to fuel each attack with his never ending supply of rage. He wants him to use his outrage against his opponents.
Best Jeanist wanted him to focus, to come up with a careful plan before attacking. Like making clothes, each stitch in your plan is important. He wants him to carefully plan out his actions before attacking.
Now, dear reader, try and apply all of those at once. You'll find it quite difficult. You can't really relax and be angry at once, or at least Bakugou couldn't. And how was he supposed to plan out his actions and let his instincts take over? So, when his first battle after their sessions came up, it was a disaster.
The Top 3 had been called to take down a villain trio that was terrorizing civilians. They decided this was Bakugo's chance to prove what he learned, and would observe from afar until he needed their help.
That turned out to be faster than they thought.
The blonde went into the fight already stressed. Letting the Top 3 down wasn't an option, so their advice was playing through his head on loop. When he saw the villains, he tried his best to follow each piece.
He went after the flying one first. He tried to use his anger first, while also going with the flow. He sent a huge blast up at the flying villain, ignoring the others for the moment. That was a bad idea.
When he was fighting the flying guy, the super strong one chucked a car at him. He dodged it, but the bird villain flew up and away from him. So much for going with the flow...
Try to plan it out. He looked around, trying to form a battle plan. Against strong guys, bigger attacks from behind work better. Probably. He really shouldn't have missed that lecture. Though he was on house arrest. Well, dorm arrest.
Stuck in his own head, Bakugou didn't notice the third villain coming up behind him. This guy had a water quirk, and sent a huge wave crashing down on him. Before he could set off a single blast, he was caught up in the wave.
This is when the pro heros joined the fight. Hawks swooped in and grabbed Bakugou from the chaos, dropping him onto a tall building before joining the fight.
Best Jeanist took care of the water guy, while Endeavor fought with the strong villain. Hawks tangled with the flying one, sending a barrage of feathers his way. Soon, they had the trio beat and on their way to prison.
On the building, Bakugou felt awful. He had fucked up his shot to impress them. Instead, he practically blew the mission. All he had to do was follow some advice and fight a few villains. He was supposed to be number one, but he couldnt do something easy for ACTUAL top heros.
They went back to the agency, Bakugou's mind racing the entire way.
...
The pros had noticed the explosive teen's mood shift almost immediately. For one, he was quiet the entire way back to the agency. His scowl was replaced by furrowed brows and a slight frown.
Hawks had tried to talk to him, but got a half-assed "whatever" before the blonde walked off. He went to Best Jeanist, knowing that Bakugou had interned there.
The denim hero sighed when Hawks asked him. "He feels guilty for not stopping the villains. I'm no professional, but I'd wager that his self-worth is impacted by his performance, especially in front of people he idolizes. And he didn't do very well today."
That... actually made a lot of sense. He had seemed stressed before the fight, and it hadn't gone the way anyone expected it to. That trio was low-level, an easy takedown. Why did Bakugou seem so off his game?
Hawks needed to find out. He had already tried talking to him, and you know how that went. A plan was slowly forming, but he would need the other pros.
"Hey, Jeanist, mind helping me with him?" The pro, of course, agreed to help. Now, to get Endeavor on board. Eugh boy...
The firey hero was doing paperwork, and seemed annoyed at their entrance. "Yes, Hawks? And hello, Jeanist."
Okay, rude! But he was used to it. Hawks walked over to the desk, resting his hand on the form Endeavor was filling out. "Mind helping us cheer the kid up?"
He glared at the winged hero, setting his pen down. Sighing, he rubbed his temples, as if already sick of Hawks. "And why can't you do this yourselves?"
"Because, he feels like he disappointed all of us. If you're not there, he'll think he especially let you down. And you're #1, so it'll make him feel even worse."
With a groan, Endeavor stood and followed his peers to Bakugou's room. He may be a jerk, but he's not going to intentionally make a kid feel bad.
In his room, Bakugou was sitting on the bed, going over the fight. He was picking out every little thing he did wrong, mentally beating himself up. His knee was tapping like crazy, his body's way of trying to get some of the stress out. It helped, but not enough to do anything.
Best Jeanist was the one to knock, asking to be let in. He didn't mention the other two, thinking it might deter Baku from letting them in.
The knocking snapped him out of his daze, and he walked over and opened the door, trying for a scowl. It quickly faded to a shocked frown when he saw all three pro heros at his door.
He blinked before waving them inside with a huff. The blonde moved away from the door, standing awkwardly by the bed. Hawks and Jeanist approached him, Endeavor hanging back near the door.
Hawks was the first to speak. "You seem a bit down, kid. Mind sharing?" It was a bit blunt, sure, but it got to the point. He had a feeling that would work best with the explosive teen.
"I'm fine, KFC. Quit mother henning me." No cursing, but there were some good bird jabs. Endeavor chuckled from behind. That's a decent sign, I guess.
Jeanist was next. "Bakugou, we know you're feeling bad beacuse of the fight. We just want to know why, and what's been on your mind." His tone was just soft enough. Not pitying, but just concerned enough to make a person feel cared for.
This seemed to loosen him up a bit. He crossed his arms, but he was squeezing himself a bit more than necessary, scowling into his lap. When he spoke, it seemed to pour out of him, as if he'd been saying it silently for hours.
"I... I fucked up. I tried to follow all of your advice, but I'm too much of a dumbass to know how. I screwed up my shot in the fight, and needed to be fucking saved and taken away so you could wrap it up. I disappointed all of you in seconds. I tried so hard to do what you said, but I fucked up every piece of advice you gave me."
Bakugou seemed less than okay, now visibly upset. That was more than he normally expressed, and let the three of them know that this was really bothering him. Best Jeanist was the first to comfort him, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Bakugou, you did not disappoint us. Everyone has off days, and nobody wants to mess up in front of people they admire. We may not have given the best advice, and it wasn't fair to tell you three different things and expect you to perform them all flawlessly. If anything, were the ones who messed up. We made you feel like this, and didn't work together to make sure you got the best training possible."
Everyone in the room was a bit shocked. He said it so calmly, and sounded genuinely concerned. Bakugou bit his cheek, trying to keep his emotions in check. He did look less upset, though he still had that sad air to him.
"Kid, nobody blames you for messing up. We don't expect you to follow every piece of advice we give you. It's all good. So relax, would ya?" Hawks came over now, poking him in the ribs. He did not, however, expect the jolt and surprised grunt the action received. The hero quickly put two and two together, a smirk forming on his face.
"You know, you really should smile more. You're gonna have a buncha wrinkles before you're thirty with all the scowling you do." He nodded at Jeanist, trying to get him into the mischief about to ensue. He chuckles and nods, silently agreeing to help.
"Hey Endeavor, mind coming over here?" The firey pro huffed before approaching the three, knowing he'll get roped into it either way. He came up behind the blonde, already knowing what they'll ask of him.
Bakugou realizes what's happening a second too late. Endeavor hooked his arms under the teen's, successfuly restraining him. Well, kinda. He was still kicking out, trying to keep them away from him. "No! Fuck off!"
Hawks chuckled at the small giggle. "What? We haven't done anything. Yet." The tease in his voice was almost suffocating as he wiggled his fingers. "Jeanist, mind helping us with his legs?"
The teen glared at him, almost betrayed. The pro gives him a knowing yet apologetic look before using his quirk to restrain him. He wrapped some threads around Bakugou's legs, keeping them from getting kicked to death.
Hawks smirked before running his fingers up and down his ribs, moving slowly. Baku's face scrunched up, holding in any reaction. A small blush formed on the blonde's face as he struggled.
"Playing hardass, huh? That's okay, I can do this for hours." Hawks smirked as he added his other hand, running his fingers up and down both sides of the teen's ribcage. "Wanna get in on this, Jean?"
Jeanist chuckles before joining in, poking at Bakugou's belly. Little titters escape him, his efforts to stay stoic failing.
The fingers on his ribs traveled higher, getting dangerously close to this death spot. "S-stohop! Screw you ahassholes!"
Hawks stopped, giving Bakugou a dangerous look. The teen squirmed, thankful for the break, but weary of the pro. "Assholes, huh? I guess we've gotta live up to that title. Jeanist, where do I go?"
The denim hero chuckled, shaking his head. "Sorry Bakugou. Upper ribs, right below his armpit." The teen let out a squawk of betrayal, glaring daggers at his former mentor. He didn't have a chance to yell, as Hawks used both hands to attack the spot on both sides of his ribcage.
"GAH! NOHOHO, YOU TRAHAHAITOHOR!" He thrashed as much as they would allow, Endeavor struggling to keep a good hold on him. The teen's laugher filled the room, loud and boisterous.
The winged hero seemed thrilled at his reaction. "There we go! Was that so hard?" Bakugou narrowed his eyes, trying to look menacing. It didn't work, what with all the laughing and squirming. "YEHEHES! GET OHOHOFF OF MEHE YOU- JEHERKS!"
Not wanting to get in any more trouble than he already was, he filtered the name. They got the point. Doesn't mean they're gonna listen to it.
"No, I don't think we will. You can brood later, but for now, you're gonna laugh." While his hands tormented Bakugou's ribs, he sent out a few feathers to mess with his neck. Best Jeanist was on his belly, poking and prodding the sensitive skin.
Bakugou was reeling. This is so fucking embarrassing! The three best heros, all tickling him! It was bad enough when just Jeanist found out, but all three? His pride was dead.
"STOHOHOP! GEHET OHOFFA MEHEHE!" He arched his back, thrashing as they tickled him. His death spot alone was maddening, but his belly and neck as well? He was done for.
Jeanist poked around, kneading his thighs experimentally. This caused the blonde to snort, surprising all three heros. Determined to kill the teen, Jeanist stayed on his thighs, forcing snort after snort out of him.
"OHOHO MY FUHUCK! *snort* QUIHIHIHIT IHIT!" He thrashed against Endeavor, trying to break the hero's hold on him. The pro held strong, clearly not about to let a teenager best him. "LEHET- *snort* LEHET ME GOHOHO, OHOHOLD MAN!"
Endeavor scowled at this comment. "I'll show you old man, you brat." He gathered up both of the student's arms in one hand, using the other to roughly tickle his side. This seemed to work, Bakugou's laughter reaching new heights.
Tears of mirth pricked the corner of his eyes, the tickling overwhelming. He was nearing his limit, his cheeks bright red from both laughter and embarrassment. He shook his head, trying to shake the feeling out. It didn't work.
"STOHOHOP! *snort* DAHAMN IT, GEHEHET OHOHOFF MEHE!"
Hearing the slight rasp in his laughter, Hawks stopped, motioning the others to follow him. They also quit, Endeavor releasing his arms. Bakugou all but collapsed, falling back on the firey hero. He held the boy up with a chuckle, amused at his reaction.
Bakugou was still softly giggling, sucking in air as he tried to calm down. "Youhuhu... you guhuys suhuhuck!" He weakly pointed to the three of them, too tired to do much else. The fight, plus the tickling, had thoroughly worn him out.
Hawks ruffled his hair, earning a growl in response. "Well, at least you aren't sad anymore. Next time, if we're not making sense, tell us. We'll fix it, okay?" The blonde nodded, groaning.
Endeavor laid him on the bed, getting an appreciative groan from the teen. They left the room, Jeanist giving him a quick pat on the head before closing the door behind him. All three heros had smiles of some sort on their faces.
Bakugou, exhausted and embarrassed, closed his eyes. He knew they cared, but nobody could have expected what they did to cheer him up. He sprawled out on the bed, deciding to sleep it off.
Ugh, how am I gonna train with them after this?
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spagyricqueen · 1 month
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To my readers <3
TL;DR: I am old. I write old. My heart is squishy. Thank you for reading.
Always and forever, I want to thank you for reading my fic. I thought it might be fun to discuss it a little while I'm in between chapters. The beginning of this semester at university has taken much of my attention with a rhetorical analysis for English class, writing assignments for philosophy, Geography homework, and a digital media class that has readings and projects due every week. So my plate is a little more full than last semester. heh
In order to relieve my frustration at not being able to throw all my effort and attention into this next arc in my story, I thought it could be fun to share some of my musings here.
So I'm an elder millennial. I started writing fanfiction when I was 12 years old, when the only way to find it was on FTP servers in the early days of the internet. I was precocious and managed to get the attention of an English teacher who thought I was older, due to the nature of my writing (don't get me wrong, it was still juvenile, but I guess she saw potential in me?). Suffice to say, she was surprised to learn my young age. But I gained a mentor who gave me a lot of pointers and did exercises with me to practice dialogue and descriptions. I kept up writing up until my 20s, when life happened and other things gained my interest.
I was surprised at myself when I was inspired to start writing again, starting with the Astarion origin story (which, I stress, would really need some reworking as it is far from perfect). I found the character very captivating and ripe for exploration and study. Yet, the landscape of fanfiction has changed a lot since I last attempted it. I had no idea what a 'drabble' was, and realize that most people are interested in short-form, easily digestible works. And here I am, devising an entire epic and canon continuation with the caveat being to treat it as if it could be a published novel or series. My writing style is, I suppose you could say, classical?
In searching for fanfiction to read about this character, I found many of them focused on very specific things (vampirism, trauma, sex, et al). I was disappointed that many of them were in second person and present tense, both styles that I was wholly unaccustomed to reading. We all have preferences, and I completely respect that. I wanted to read novel-style work, and was found wanting (though if you have recommendations, I would love to explore them). So, as one does, if you can't find it - write it yourself! And I did. The story I'm crafting is the one I wanted to read, and I'm grateful that there are others who do as well.
I'm not after big numbers, truth be told, and I'm quite overjoyed when I get a kudos here and there, and especially when I see 'unreviewed comment' pop up. It's an unexpected delight, every single time. :)
So, why did I make him blind? How cruel, right? Well, there's a few reasons for it. He is a vain character, though I imagine that had tamed somewhat towards the epilogue of the game. He has trust issues. He has issues with seeing value in himself. As a character study, I thought this unique aspect might be interesting to explore in a character like Astarion. I wanted him to learn the value of insight, patience, and overcoming challenges in a new way that is not often explored. I also wanted to bring some awareness to disability in general. I researched the hell out of the subject, trying to impart the wisdom I gained through the writing. For instance, the 'Blindfolded Masquerade'? Yeah, don't do that. That's not a good way to foster empathy, and is actually somewhat belittling of the character's condition. A point that, I feel, was made rather clear by Astarion's response to it.
Writing a blind character is a challenge. I have to try to remember how to write descriptions from the perspective of someone bereft of sight, and focus only on touch, sound, and scent (not always with success, mind you). A blind character in a D&D setting, too, has unique aspects that can be inserted - from the mystical to the mundane. They can still have a high Passive Perception, but limited to sound, touch, and scent. Astarion has a dexterity score of 17 - that hasn't changed. In a medieval high fantasy setting like Forgotten Realms, this can be utilized in interesting and nuanced ways.
I made him too soft, maybe? Well, perhaps. But characters grow and change depending on circumstances. Astarion can be soft, and still be funny. I have a squishy heart, personally. I like soft Astarion. Someone else recently mentioned how his 'mask' fell away during the Graveyard Scene, and you see the real person behind the acerbic wit and irreverence. I understand masking all too well. Recently, I was diagnosed with autism (and no one was surprised, really). Imagine going through most of your life thinking you're the weirdo no one wants to be around, and you constantly hide yourself by pretending to be someone else - for decades. Trauma can do this too, so addressing that aspect of his character is important to me. He is soft now because people change, especially in light of challenges, experiences, and when someone shows them kindness and empathy.
I have been enjoying how my version of this character has evolved, and for those of you reading my story, I thank you for sharing in this same delight.
In conclusion, I wanted to assure you that the next couple chapters are being crafted with care. There is a plan being devised, plans being thwarted, and perhaps an interesting cameo to look forward to. I deeply appreciate your continued interest. Your support means the world to me. Thank you for sharing in this adventure with our beloved (former) vampire spawn arcane trickster rogue, Astarion Ancunín.
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willsimpforanyone · 2 years
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Hey! I'm glad to see ur requests r back open! I've missed uuu! Could u do a Hermione Granger X Fem!Reader fic, where R needs help with a subject and Hermione tutors her in the library, leading to a library make-out session. Thanks so much!! Byyyyyeeeeeee :)
you're so sweet! thank you for being so patient!
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"Y'know, I don't think that's how you study."
Hermione's amused tone lifted my head from where I'd been faceplanted in a book. I scowled at her.
"Maybe it is, you don't know that, maybe I'm capable of word-osmosis."
She stifled a laugh, always mindful of being quiet in the library. "Word-osmosis? Now you're just making things up." She slid into the chair next to me and pulled the book so it was between us. "Let me help, what's got you stuck?"
I muttered something about potion ingredients and Snape and "wolfsbane is literally monkshood, why do I have to write down wolfsbane when I know it as monkshood?"
Hermione hummed in agreement, but took my notebook and quill and placed them exactly in front of me. "Alright, I know it's ridiculous that Snape will mark you down if you give the wrong name for something, but you can't let him get you this way." She pointed to the first of the ingredients of the potion recipe on the page. "This says 'hollyhock', but what does Snape know it as?"
Wracking my brain, I made an attempt. "...rose mallow?"
I squeaked in surprise as Hermione planted a kiss on my cheek. "Yes! Okay, write that down and we'll keep going."
It took me a second to pick up my quill, but I wrote down 'rose mallow' as part of my recipe translation.
"Next one." Hermione pointed at 'silver ragwort'.
I knew that one off the top of my head. "Silver dust."
Another kiss on the cheek, slightly closer to my lips, another ingredient translated and written down.
A pattern emerged as my girlfriend helped me study. For every wrong answer, she would make me translate out loud the previous three ingredients. For every right answer I was rewarded with her lips on my skin, though frustratingly never exactly where I wanted them.
By the final and sixteenth ingredient, I was squirming slightly in my seat with a flush creeping down my neck. Maybe if I got this one right, maybe this time she'd finally kiss me. "Um... garden sage?"
Hermione's eyes lit up and a grin spread over her face. "Well done, my lovely, you've done all the ingredients!" She flipped the book closed and picked it up. "But I think you've done enough today, come along." She began walking to where I'd gotten the book from.
Slightly thrown off, I shoved my notebook and quill into my bag and dashed after her as quietly as I could. She couldn't just leave me, that was borderline cruelty.
We wove between bookshelves as I followed her haphazard path. "Hermione!" I hissed. "I've been kissed fifteen times and unless my maths is wrong, I am owed a sixteenth kiss!" I rounded the corner and was grabbed, Hermione's arms secure around my waist as she spun me against a bookshelf.
My breath was knocked out of me and all I could focus on was her smirk.
"I owe you a kiss, do I?" Hermione's voice was soft and a little breathy.
I didn't know where the book had gone and frankly I didn't care. I focused desperately on listening to any sounds that might indicate other students but was met with silence. My girl was too good to get caught in her own temple.
"You want a kiss..." She pecked my forehead. "...here?" I smiled, but shook my head.
"How about..." The tip of my nose got a quick kiss. "...there?"
I made an undignified whining noise. "'Mione, c'mon."
Her eyes flickered to my lips for a split second, before she grinned once more. "Are you sure you don't want me..." She leaned in close, taking my earlobe in her teeth for a single moment. "...here?"
I inhaled sharply as Hermione pressed featherlight kisses from my ear down my neck. Clutching at her shirt, I suppressed the tiny moans threatening to release.
She worked her way back up my neck. "Is that enough of a reward for you, baby?"
Almost without thinking, I shook my head and Hermione let out a quiet laugh. "My girl, so demanding." Finally, fucking finally, she pressed her lips to mine.
Instinctively I wrapped my arms around her neck as I felt her pull me closer. I played with her loose curls as she parted my lips with a squeeze of my waist. Gasping into her mouth, I tried incredibly hard not to be too loud- I would never hear the end of it from Hermione if I was anything above a whisper in a library.
She grinned against my lips as if hearing my thoughts. She pulled away from me only to smooth down my neck, taking her time to graze her teeth over the sensitive skin. My head fell back against the bookcase as she decorated me with dark marks and I tried to steady my breathing.
After only a few minutes, Hermione pulled away fully, leaving her hands loosely holding my hips. "Will that do, babe?"
Slightly dazed, I grinned manically. "Never."
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a bit of a shorter one but i hope you enjoyed!
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losing my mind!!!
i have currently 5!!! porny fics in my wips (which is highly unusual for me bc i've never written porn in all of these years of writing and now all of a sudden i found myself buried under so many horny ideas that need to see the light of the day or i will explode) and can't get a single one of them done!!! why are they getting so long??? why is it so difficult to write all these sensations and hot dialogue that isn't cringe???? how do others get porny fics done in less than 2k and make them still hot??? while my concepts alone are long since past that??? i don't even have the details written out yet wtf???? WHY IS WRITING PORN SO DIFFICULT ARGH I HATE THIS, IF THIS WERE ONE OF MY CRACKY HUMOR FICS I WOULD'VE BEEN DONE WITH THEM LONG AGO ALREADY
i am this!!! fucking close to just throwing it all in the trash and focus on my stupid fun fics instead istfg i hate it here
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nhasablogg · 3 months
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My goals for this blog in 2024
'Tis the season of overanalyzing everything about your life! So naturally I've been thinking a lot about the different spaces I occupy, such as this one, and decided I need to be a bit more intentional with how I spend my time online and offline. I'm trying not to overdo it though. Sometimes you also just have to exist.
Be transparent when I want attention. This makes it sound as if we're in a relationship LMAO, but honestly, a lot of the time I will pop in here with a random post, or a request for prompts, and it will be more a cry for attention than the actual need for prompts (although not always). Prompt + filling of prompt = validation and love and attention. But usually that won't be enough because I'm not always in the mood to write, or I'll write something short and not very good, and then I won't get the attention I was craving and I will get sad. Also not every fic will be a hit anyway. It's a fickle thing to base my emotions around. SO. Solution for this is to just tell you when I want attention, because that way I won't feel annoying and bad about myself afterward. Obviously this might not result in attention whatsoever, and also why is it your job to give it to me anyway, but that way I won't feel as desperate as much as I will at the very least feel authentic about my neediness. I am human. Sometimes I need things and have no idea who to turn to. I often turn to social media. It happens. I just want to be more honest about it next year. Maybe as a sort of therapy.
Kind of related. I want to be a bit more intentional with the fics I post. I've gotten better at leaving fics be if they're not working, rather than trying to finish every single project, but I want to let them take their time and not post fics just to post them if I'm not happy with them. That doesn't mean I can't post shorter, sillier fics I had fun working on even if they're not masterpieces. My enjoyment is just as important as the final product.
I'd also like to write more long, intricate fics, kind of like my Criminal Minds case fics. It's fun to challenge myself, as longer fanfic writing isn't my forte.
Figure out if I want prompts to mostly be open or not. I keep opening and closing them, mostly because I sometimes get in the opposite mood of wanting attention and get overwhelmed and don't want people to "demand" things from me (I know they're not demands, but you know how your brain sometimes gets). But I feel like the best prompts are the ones people will send really randomly because they suddenly got an idea. But maybe, if I stop making those "send me prompts!!!" type of posts I won't get overwhelmed by the amount of them. Does anyone have any input on this?
Stop thinking I need to do certain things to be a part of the community. I keep thinking that I should maybe interact with other people's fics more, or try to be a part of the community in ways I used to when I was younger, but the truth is that I'm not a fanfiction reader at this stage of my life, and rather than lamenting that I need to just accept it. Maybe that makes me a hypocrit, but I don't believe in forcing things like that. Maybe once I stop pressuring myself it will come naturally instead, but if not I need to just be okay with the fact that I'm mostly here for my own fics. Maybe that's selfish, but it's the truth. I have enough problems in my real life to create new ones for myself here.
Stop trying to restore the old blog. It's gone. I was the one to delete it, and with that a lot of followers who never returned, and everything I did on there. It's fun getting to give advice, but people don't turn to me for them like they did back in the day and that's okay. I'm not who I was back then. I don't have the same amount of time. Instead of trying to bring back traces of the old blog I just want to focus on what I want to do with this one, in the moment and in the future. This community has changed anyway. It's time I accept that. (this does not include my Throwback Project, which I will be doing as a way to honor the past rather than try to bring it back)
Do you have any goals? Did any of this make sense? Am I overanalyzing things TOO much? Let me know your thoughts if you have any!
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virgoilluminati · 9 months
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One Shot List
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Heya, so after the end of Belongings I am planning to have a little break from fanfic series’s to focus on doing smaller fics. But knowing me… they’ll end up becoming short series’s of their own. 😆
So the plan is basically, requests for anyone on my masterlist is open, so just ask me what prompt you would like and who you would like it for, and I’ll write you a fic. ❣️❣️❣️ Been wanting to do this for a while so please send me requests (even if they’re not on this list too). I don’t bite…. (Or do I hehe😏) JK I DON’T I PROMISE
Here’s the prompt list:
1. "You're hair is really soft after you wash it."
2. Ssh. Stop fussing. I'm just braiding your hair."
3. You smell really nice."
4. "Would it be all right if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you.
5. 'I might have slept with your robe when you were gone."
6. "If you steal the blankets, I am going to put my cold feet on you."
7. Here, let's share the blanket.
8. You're comfy."
9. You are my new pillow."
I0. "You are very endearing when you are half-asleep.
11. "But I want to hear you sing.
12. "We can talk over dinner."
13. "Don't be stubborn. Try it!"
14. "Don't get up - I'll do it."
15. "Will you let me rub your back?"
16: "Care to give me a back scratch?"
17. "Star-gazing was a good idea."
18. "You look beautiful/handsome in the moonlight."
19. "I'll always be here for you.
20. "TIl be here to protect you."
21. "I think I love you."
22. "You are my love."
23. "How about something warm? It will will help you sleep.
24. "It's okay. I couldn't sleep anyway."
25. "Don't be silly. I want to stay up with you.
26. It is not morning yet."
27. "Shush and go back to bed."
28. "I heard you talking in your sleep."
29. "Your bed head is really cute.
30. "We'll do dishes together.
31. "How about a kiss?"
32. “I love your hugs."
33. "Come over here and make me.
34. "Have you lost your damn mind!?"
35. "Please, don't leave."
36. "Do you...well...I mean...I could give you a massage?"
37. "Wait a minute. Are you jealous?"
38. "Is there a reason you're naked in my bed?"
39. "I almost lost you."
40. "Wanna bet?"
41. "Don't you ever do that again!"
42. "Teach me how to play?"
43. "Don't you dare throw that snowba-, goddammit!"
44. "I think we need to talk."
45. "Kiss me."
46. "Hey, I'm with you, okay? Always."
47. "So, I found this waterfall..."
48. "It could be worse."
49. "Looks like we'll be trapped for a while..
50. "This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you've ever had. Of course I'm in."
51. "The paint's supposed to go where?"
52. "You need to wake up because I can't do this without you."
53. "We're in the middle of a thunderstorm and you wanna stop and feel the rain?"
54. "I've seen the way you look at me when you think I don't notice."
55. "You come here often?"
56. "Can I offer you a drink?"
57. "So.. You expecting someone?"
58. "Do you need a place to stay for tonight?"
59. "I gotta tell you... you look incredibly hot.
60. "Do you want to dance with me?"
61. "Look at us... we are basically a couple already."
62. "I bet you would look even better without your clothes on."
63. "Are you single? Just asking."
64. "You're the most beautiful person I have ever encountered."
65. "What would you say if you and me would go somewhere else?"
66. "I love the way you're dressed."
67. "Do I have any chances with you?"
68. "Do you have anything better to do later?"
69. "Can I get your phone number?"
70. "You seem like a bad boy/girl/person type."
71. "I can do whatever you want, babe."
72. "You have the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen."
73. "I bet guys/gals/people are all over you.
74. "You should be a model."
75. "Are you... trying to flirt with me?"
76. "Maybe if I get a free drink I can consider talking to you."
77. "That won't work. Try again."
78. "Oh my god, did you just say that out loud?"
79. "I'm waiting for someone. However, you can amuse me in the meanwhile."
80 "You don't look so bad yourself."
81. "I thought you were taken."
82. "So, have you flirted with every girl/boy/one in this bar yet?"
83. "Do I look like someone who seems interested in you?"
84. "Compliments won't pay my drinks."
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wolfwarden · 1 year
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For the WIP ask: I am, of course, gently and not at all curiously looking at the Malon mini-Whump? :3
Don't you hate it when you have a hundred fics you need to work on but you have amazingly talented friends that write whump fills that pull you in and you just can't help yourself? You know what you did, Rav. This pales in comparison to the original whump fill, but I have permission to play, so I'm gonna. Have an unedited snippet: ...
"Potion!" Warriors snaps, the bandages he’s pressed against Malon’s back already soaked through. They need a fairy. They have none, so he will take what he can.
A bottle is shoved in his hand, only half-full.
"Last one," Sky gasps, then spins to guard their backs, the fighting still ringing through the room.
Warriors rolls Malon over and tips her head up, ignoring the frantic scuffling of feet, the distant crash of splintering wood, and the ever-present screams of Time calling for his wife. He presses the bottle’s edge to her lips and lets a small stream trickle in. “Drink this.”
She lies still in his arms.
“Malon!” Time is a jerky blur at the edge of Warriors’ vision, arms slamming repeatedly to the far reaches of his iron restraints.
He’s someone else’s problem, Warriors’ mind snaps, shoving down the rising tide of sympathy and sorrow. He tries again to force Malon to drink. “Come on now…” Red potion trickles out the side of her slack mouth.
The chains holding Time to the wall shudder as he lunges forward again. “Malon, wake up! You can’t do this. You have to-” The word cut off in a wet sob.
Warriors’ fingers press at Malon’s neck, a part of him utterly unsurprised to find no answering pulse. He knew. Before his knees had hit this blood-soaked floor, he knew.
"Wars?” As if sensing his hesitation, Time has turned his attention to Warriors. “Please.”
There’s too much emotion wrapped up in that single word. Warriors lets it sweep over his ears, doesn’t let it fully register. He turns Malon back over on the floor, the gash on her back exposed again. A wound too wide to sew up, impossible to tourniquet, too deep to be anything but fatal. He pours red potion down the bleeding line. A waste, the callous part of him whispers. Potions don't work nearly as well when applied externally. It should be saved for someone who will benefit from it. He checks again for pulse. None. He watches for the slightest breath.
"Captain?"
Warriors raises his head, meeting Time’s gaze, keeping his expression blank with everything he has.
Time's eye widens. "No! You can't! Don’t let her go. Don’t you dare." The restraining bolt in the wall lurches, stone fragments pinging on the floor. “Malon!” A wild fury overcomes him and he thrashes forward, straining toward the woman on the floor, shackles cutting deep into his skin. “Malon, look at me!”
Hyrule collapses by Warriors’ side, blood running down his face. Hands go over Malon and the pink glow flares in the dim light.
Then it flickers, flickers, and stutter-stops. Hyrule cries out in despair. "I can't-  I’ve nothing left!"
Time howls, desperate face turning to Hyrule, and Warriors can feel the rage and panic rising like a wave from their usually stoic leader. And Warriors understands. He’s seen it happen so many times. Too many times. Friends, loved ones, raging for ones lost to the war, searching for someone to blame.
He pushes Hyrule back from Time, placing himself front and center. His calm begins to slip, emotions splintering through and he teeters between weeping along with Time and wanting to put his fist through the nearest wall. Well, If he's going to feel something, he'll pick anger. It will hold him together when despair would not. It will sharpen his focus when grief blurs the path.
If he must feel, then anger it will be.
He knocks Malon’s hands to the side and centers himself over her, pressing the heel of his palm to her chest. He drags in one steadying breath, then shoves down with both arms, forcing her heart to beat. Useless. Hopeless. But stopping is unthinkable.
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theladyofbloodshed · 2 years
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So that anon's theory about Amren and babies made me think of a crackfic that I would love if you could do (it is however somewhat Amren centered and I'm aware you don't like writing her so you can refuse this-I completely understand)-
( I would like if this is set after your AU ACOSF cause that for me is the only Nessian story I find acceptable but again whatever you wish to do-you're the writer :) )
So basically Nessian's baby (daughter) who is now around maybe 1 years old (whatever age babies start crawling or moving and somewhat talking on their own) and has had some sort of attachment to Amren.But now that the baby is able to move around herself she's taken to trying to follow Amren everywhere.And no one is able to stop her or distract her.Maybe she even has a babbled random name for Amren as well that the whole NC finds hilarious.
So basically Amren spends a whole day hiding from the baby only to be found every single time much to her annoyance and the IC's amusement.Like she's just going around the river estate hiding from a 1 year old in random places only to be found each time.Maybe at some point she decides to leave to summer court but is again found by the baby when Nesta is also at summer to talk to Cresseida about the fund and has her daughter with her.Idk how this ends or what even happens.It's purely a crackfic idea in my mind so it doesn't have to be completely factually correct or anything.Infact I love the way you think up stuff so if you take full reigns over this idea then that's great too :)
Ofcourse I understand if you don't want to write an Amren centric fic since you don't really like her (same btw) and usually write Nesta centric fics only but it's something about her experiencing her own form of torture with having a drooling babbling baby cling to her lol.
I'm also the same person who had requested the hormonal and pregnant Nesta fic and I absolutely loved it.If you do decide to write it I think it would be interesting if this fic is a continuation of that one of some sort.Thankyou so much!
I love your works!!Infact you are the reason I joined tumblr and discovered so many other authors so really you were my gateway.I can't wait to read your original work when ( used when- because it will happen because you're obviously talented enough to get it) you get published in the future!!!
Awww that makes me so happy that you joined and found more fics. There are so many talented people on here!
I've written just a short one (1.3k) of Amren getting terrorised by baby Nessian!
The ancient one called his name over and over until her voice had grown hoarse. He cut his shower short to see why Amren was howling his name like a wounded beast. She’d been terrifying with power – now, she was just a tiny female who made lots of threats with nothing to back them up.
‘What is the problem?’
Amren stood on a chair, as far to one side as it could go without tipping. ‘It’s followed me again.’
A growl rippled from his chest. ‘My daughter is not an it.’
‘Take it – her – away.’
Phia had always had a strange fascination with Amren. As soon as she could focus her eyes on faces, they always searched the room for the female. It had taken all of them months of chipping away at her to even hold the baby – and then Nesta had needed to remove her after less than a minute because Amren panicked.
Cassian swooped down on Ophelia then whooshed her up into the air so a big, beaming smile came onto her face. It seemed that Amren had been working at the table when she’d been snuck up on. Since she learnt how to crawl, there wasn’t a room that Amren could go to for an escape. Nesta might have given her daughter a helping hand from time to time too.
‘Your daughter is terrorising Amren again.’
Nesta stretched out on the couch. There was a book beside her, but since having a baby, sleep was prioritised over any other hobby.
‘I know. I could see them.’
‘Didn’t you hear her calling?’
Nesta snorted. ‘I did. Phia was fine, just trying to pull herself up.’
‘Wait until she learns how to walk.’
Nesta grinned. ‘And how to fly.’
Poor Amren would have no peace. She had seriously asked Rhys about defecting to the Summer Court. Nyx had never been bothered with her – or she to him. Ophelia had different plans. And Nesta seemed to enjoy her torment.
Nesta scooped the baby to her chest then kissed the crop of dark hair. The wings were a welcome surprise; they were not entirely sure whether the Illyrian genes would be passed along. Cassian had already planned her flying lessons and all the places he could take his daughter once she’d learnt.
‘Can you believe we made her?’
Nesta threw him an incredulous look. ‘I was just the vessel. This is your child. Ten months inside of me to come out looking exactly like your father, you poor, sweet girl.’
‘When we have a boy, he’ll look like you.’
‘Oo, you ripped me from front to back,’ she said in a sing-song voice as she slathered the baby with kisses to make her giggle. ‘If your papa thinks I am ever letting him touch me again, he must be sillier than I thought.’
Amren stood in the doorway and shuddered.
‘Would you like to come with us to the park?’
‘I would rather spend another eternity in the Prison.’
Nesta gave her a sweet smile. ‘I shall inform Rhysand of your request.’
***
Sure enough, once Phia had learnt to walk, Amren was her go to person. Sometimes she’d even start to cry if Amren didn’t pick her up – then Amren appeared as if she might burst into tears as a result. And every time, Nesta would watch with a smirk. Cassian saw her exchanging vindictive grins with Azriel from time to time too as they delighted in Amren’s torture.
There was no escape. Ophelia had learnt how to walk and how to pull herself up to surfaces in quick succession so even if Amren was in a chair, Phia would go to her then haul herself into Amren’s lap before she had a chance to get away. Her wings were growing stronger so, soon, Amren would never be able to escape.
Sometimes she was brave enough to lift the girl back down before running away. Other times, she remained pinned to the spot, calling out for help. The only one who ran when she called was Varian. What didn’t help was how utterly obsessed Varian was with Phia either. She was happy to go to him and he’d play with her for hours, much to Amren’s torment.
‘I don’t understand what is enjoyable,’ she confessed over dinner when Ophelia had wheedled her way onto Varian’s lap and helped herself to everything on his plate.
Cassian had thought that Nesta might prickle more over Amren’s words, but she only ever shrugged them off. If their daughter was hassling Amren, it gave her a moment of space. Nesta enjoyed the peace where she could wolf down her dinner without interruption.
‘Are you telling me that cracked nipples and sleepless nights do not appeal to you?’ She asked between mouthfuls of food.
All of the males around the table winced.
Since having a child, Nesta had lost any reservations or propriety. Cassian had stopped trying to protect her modesty each time she whipped out a nipple to feed Ophelia.
‘Don’t forget cleaning shit out of her belly button when she explodes.’
Mor gagged. ‘Is this a topic for dinner?’
But Rhys had nodded with understanding at Cassian’s words. They had all been there the first time Nyx had woken screaming from a nap absolutely covered in his own filth. Feyre and him had some sort of deal where one of them could refuse entirely to be involved and Feyre slammed down her portion of the deal in record time leaving Rhys to manage it alone.
‘She’s trying to touch me,’ Amren hissed, leaning to the side to stop Ophelia from reaching her.
‘Varian, she’s going to cry if you don’t hand her to her favourite person,’ Nesta teased.
The Summer Court male panicked. He doted on that little girl and would never want to see her upset, but Amren would eat him alive. The former won out with her wobbling bottom lip – which was definitely inherited from her mother. She might have been Cassian’s double in appearance, but the personality coming through was all Nesta.  
Ophelia pressed herself to Amren. Her chubby, little arms went around the female’s neck as she imitated the same noise her mother made when she hugged her. The moment ought to have been sweet, but Amren looked to be in physical pain or as if somebody had a knife pressed to her throat.
‘What does she want?’
‘Hug her back,’ Cassian suggested.
Amren blew out a breath. Then inhaled. Blew out again. Her eyes screwed shut.
'I can't.'
Azriel burst into laughter, surprising them all.
‘She looks like we’ve asked her to hug the Attor. She’s a baby, Amren.’
‘I would hug Nyx,’ she said, straining her face upwards to keep away from Phia, ‘but there’s something not right with this one.’
‘Feyre, will you swap our babies over.’
Amren’s silver eyes went wide. ‘No.’
‘I think bonding with both would be good for Amren,’ Feyre replied, carrying Nyx over.
He’d been a lovely baby. A very easy one too, content to slumber in people’s arms or sleep solidly through the night from one month. As soon as he’d hit two, a different child had emerged. Cassian was happy to admit that his nephew was horrid. Nyx quite enjoyed biting. And kicking. And hitting. And hair pulling. And the word no. Rhys had even made a joke about dropping him in Windhaven early after Nyx had thrown his bowl of soup directly at Rhys’ face.
‘Please, not him. Please, Rhysand. Rhysand. I will quit. I will leave this court and join Autumn if I have to.’
‘She’ll give up all of our secrets if confronted by an infant,’ Azriel mused, another wicked smile flitting onto his lips.
Feyre was too kind and hauled a thrashing Nyx back to his seat - but the threat was always there.
‘Phia loves you,’ Nesta crooned.
‘Amam.’
Nesta grabbed hold of Cassian’s hand. ‘She said her first word.’
‘That was not a word,’ Amren seethed.
‘She said your name,’ Varian said with pure delight.
‘My name is not Amam.’
‘If you think we are calling you anything else from now on, you’re dead wrong.’
Amren shook her head. ‘I wish I had stayed dead.’
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glamorouspixels · 7 months
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We've reached the point where I need to ramble about uni again (apologies to everyone seeing this on their dash). I'm working on my BA thesis and getting ready to take the second of two final oral exams that make up the final assessment of my degree. I did the first in early July and it was the worst I've felt since my burnout year. It feels genuinely impossible to survive the second without losing more of myself in the process. I've sacrificed so much for this stupid degree. My life consists of nothing but studying and writing. My attention span has suffered so much that I can no longer read more than a couple of sentences with my eyes and rely on text-to-speech readers for almost everything. Reading fic is so hard even though I desperately want to do it, and I have several-hours-long gaps in my days every single day where I just sort of float through time because I'm too exhausted to make myself focus for another second.
And I just… I can't see myself surviving my Master's degree. It's only ("only") twenty courses compared to the sixty that made up my BA, but ten of them require you to write massive papers, and your final assessment once again consists of two (far bigger) oral exams and a fucking 85-page thesis. The only thing I know for certain is that I need to get out. I can't afford to do both my MA and my PhD abroad, and since the only place I can see myself surviving a full-time job is academia I need to do my MA here before I can leave. You're supposed to do all of the above in two years and it's taken me nine semesters to finish my BA instead of six. I don't want to be stuck here for another three to four years while I suffer through another degree that is so unnecessarily hard compared to degrees at the same level in other countries. I am so fucking tired of this bullshit.
Also, something else I can't really talk about has been happening on the side and making it even harder to push myself through the other stuff the way I normally would. The second anything bad happens, my mind goes to this one specific thing and place I want to go to for comfort, but I can't. It's made things so much harder these past few months. And I keep asking myself if the correct course of action would be to take said thing out of my life entirely because there is so much potential for future pain there and it's almost inevitable that something painful will happen at some point. But I don't want to give up something so incredible that makes me so happy either. Anyway I've been trying to cope by writing fics about it. I hope you guys like extremely comfort-focused hurt/comfort because that's what you'll be getting for the next couple of months 😅
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jack-daww · 12 days
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Fanfic writing asks!
2, 4, 7, 10, 29, 35, 49, and 77?
Ooh, thank you for the ask! Let's see...
2: Where do you get your fic ideas?
Hard to say. I get inspired by just about anything. Stuff I read, conversations I have, situations I've either been in or heard about, you get the gist. When something catches my interest, my brain will start screaming ideas at me until it either leaks oit of my ears or I start writing it down and throw it into the ideas folder. I'm almost constantly spewing ideas, but not all of them are good, so sometimes it just gets put in my notes app on my phone and deleted later for lack of detail.
4: How do you choose which fic to write?
Well, I have a folder on my laptop in which every fic idea gets noted down as its own document. When I finish a WIP, I look through that folder and choose whichever I have the clearest picture of. I usually keep every idea in mind and only need a small reminder of what I had planned for it, so it really comes down to where my mind goes. Sometimes I'll also have a plot for one of those ideas in mind, so I don't need to spend time choosing at all.
7: Post a snippet from a WIP
Well, it might take a little while for me to post this WIP, but have something from my latest oneshot:
"There are shelves upon shelves of books and other nick-knack, making the room look bigger and more cramped at the same time. The walls are full of paintings of all kind and there is a single lamp hanging in the middle of the room."
This story is about a tea shop (vaguely based on a shop I have been to irl) and its weird regulars, as seen by an outsider. I haven't managed to work on it since I got sick, but it's about 1/5 done, I think?
10: Do you work on multiple WIPs or stick to one fic at a time?
Uhm, I do work on multiple fics, but I try to keep it to two at most, a longer one and a oneshot. I mostly write oneshots, so yeah. Sometimes I also work on three (when counting my very long-time project) but more than that gets overwhelming and ends up with me not writing anything.
29: What's something about your writing that you're proud of?
Probably how I write emotions. I'm an angst writer, so you can imagine that a lot of situations I write tend to get messy. But I've been told my characterizations are realistic, as well as how I write emotions, so I'm pretty proud of that.
35: What's your favourite fic that you've posted?
This is hard. Uh, let me take a look at what I've posted. (I am opening multiple tabs to look through my fics for this question and the next one)
This one is probably it? I really like how I wrote magic here and while it's not my typical style (normally I'm not quite this poetic) it was fun to write! I like most of my fics, so this was a hard choice, but I feel like this is a s close to a favourite as it gets.
49: What fic of yours would you say introduction to you as a writer?
This is hard too, damn. Hm, I would say my first fic, but I don't think that would be accurate to who I am as a writer today? My writing has improved over the last two years after all.
I have two different main writing styles and different dynamics depending on what fandom I write for, so I can't really tell which one it should be. I hope naming two isn't cheating, lol.
I think these are pretty good examples of my typical writing style and they're rather recent too, so they don't have as many mistakes as my old fics might have.
The first one shows a group dynamic I enjoy and the second one is pretty good too, though from a different fandom and with a different focus. Both fics are mainly about interpersonal relationships, which is what I mostly write about, and the level of angst my fics reach on average. I was tempted to pick one of my mcd fics for this, but that wouldn't be very representative of my writing.
77: Why do you enjoy writing fanfiction?
Well, I enjoy writing because I like creating scenarios and trying to get people to feel stuff. But if the question is why I enjoy writing fanfiction specifically, hm. Probably because I like exploring how characters react or playing around with character dynamics? Sometimes I want to portrait a specific dynamic/scenario/emotion and I can do that easier when the characters already exist. Also, the community is nice.
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starryserenade · 11 months
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WIP: Fantasmic Fic
Notes: I'm literally only posting this now because of what happened the other night to poor, ol' Murphy...since I have nothing else to pay tribute to my potentially shattered dreams xD
I haven't worked on it since December of last year and it's not even a finished chapter, but I'm trying to play around with different concepts for a story themed after Fantasmic. There's so many little ideas I can't decide between, so this is definitely not going to turn into a full fic anytime soon. I've just been trying to plot one out for a good five years and can't find a concept that satisfies me entirely, so eventually I just started writing in the hopes it would make itself happen.
That said, quite a lot I don't like about the concepts I was working towards when I was working on this, so ya know. It might not go anywhere.
Anyway, read if ya like! Pass it over if you don't. That event was just...so in line with the sort of thing I've been playing with to launch the story (not Mal/Murphy catching fire lol, but some inexplicable, sudden thing causing the show to go VERY wrong), that I felt like I wanted to throw this out there.
Enjoy?
~~~~~~
Welcome to Fantasmic. Tonight your friend and host, Mickey Mouse, uses his vivid imagination to create magical imagery for all to enjoy.  In a moment, you can experience a beautiful fantasy or an exciting adventure.
But beware. Nothing is more power than the imagination, for it can also expand your greatest fears into an overwhelming nightmare…
~
The narration droned on into its final words as Mickey tugged nervously on the rim of his coat. Around him, the bustle of preparation filled the island like a swarm. A flutter of fabric then the curtsy of a passing princess, the salty scent of a pirate sweeping by, and a flurry of unintelligible frustration from a voice belonging to a certain temperamental feathered friend.  Then, out of the corner of his eye, a horned silhouette with a piercing green gaze.  He swallowed as Maleficent’s eyes narrowed, then breathed a sigh of relief when she closed them and sent a brisk nod his way.  The mouse smiled and nodded back, shaking off the anxiety with a flick of his tail, though it clung to him nonetheless.
A single note, the gentle ring of a bell, struck the air and, at least to Mickey, the world went silent.  With every moment that the chime continued to grow, his focus narrowed until nothing but a quiet, dark tunnel and an inexplicable fear remained in his mind’s eye. The question that had begun to haunt him night after night quietly crept in.
What if I’m not enough?
But a gentle hand touched his shoulder, pulling his thoughts from the shadows.  She was there for only a moment, but Minnie’s quiet whisper as she swept towards the ‘Twain to await her cue, pixie dust trailing from her dress, was all he needed.
“You are everything you need to be, and more.”
He closed his eyes and grinned softly as the bright chime of her laughter melted into the island’s growing ring.  Then, with a deep breath, he gathered the heat of enchantment to his fingertips.  The quiet sound expanded into a roar of cymbals and in the moment it reached its peak, Mickey let the magic overtake him entirely.
A flash of sparks burst forth from the stage, enveloping the mouse in pure light as he stepped into view.  The crowd erupted. Their hearts flared. Mickey saw, and laughed for pure relief. For to him,  the glow of a thousand hearts meant only one thing: they believed. 
He reveled in their awe as he bent the light and color to his whim, whisking forth a whitecapped wave and dyeing it a midnight blue.  Though his focus shifted from place to place, he kept the crowd constantly in the corner of his vision. With every motion, every flick of his wrist, a stream of magic sprung forth and their wonder grew all the greater. 
But it’s all too easy to become lost in approval, and to confuse attention and applause for true belief.  And Mickey, for all his best intentions, had become stranded in such thoughts.  They clapped. They cheered. So when a dark cloud slipped over the moon, concealing its light, he paid no mind to the flicker of darkness that sprouted along with it. This shadow grew. And silently, subtly, it took form until like a serpent it was slithering through the crowd.  
It tasted the air and swiveled sharply, eyes locked on a target buried somewhere within the jumble of shifting bodies, all oblivious to its presence. Shadows are often drawn to light, and this creature was no different.  The brightest hearts served as beacons in its eyes, and it was to one such heart -- a child’s, blazing with wonder and hope -- that it raced with unbridled vigor.  But its confidence was misplaced. For as it met with the light, fangs bared, it released a stunned hiss and shrunk back from the heat of the flame, yet too great to overcome. 
The serpent shook its head then sent out a flickering tongue to taste the air once more.  With far greater caution, it now set its sights on other hearts. Those whose light was bright enough to attract, but too cold to weather the chill of a venomous nightmare. And when this creature sank its fangs into the heels of its first victim, the poison sparked a new kind of fire.  Fiercer. Hotter. A wild blaze that leapt and flared with every shifting breeze.  But this flame gave off no light. Rather, in an inky, molten flow of darkness, it consumed it. 
The venom spread rapidly, tainting the light with shadow as it jumped from heart to heart.  Under its grip, doubt and disbelief took root in the crowd and the same glowing hearts which had fueled Mickey’s hope -- his magic -- were now fodder for a darkened wildfire beginning to ignite.  
Mickey, having conjured a twinkling likeness of himself in the mist just moments prior, had turned his back to the audience for only a moment in order to ascend the wooden staircase toward the higher level of stage.  He was altogether oblivious, and skipped up the steps with a playful confidence, tail trailing behind him in rhythmic time.
Maybe Minnie was right, he thought with renewed relief. Maybe I am enough.
He cast a wistful glance at his silhouette as he passed in front of the mill, and shuddered.  The shape of his sorcerer’s attire rested upon the shadow’s head, a looming reminder of all he had yet to achieve.
“I hafta be,” he whispered under his breath, then whirled around to face the crowd.  In that same moment, as he lifted his hands to release a flare of magic from his fingertips, his breath hitched in his throat and a chill ran down his spine.  The hearts of the audience, which only moments ago had been glittering and bright, were now faint and ever-fading. Mickey had no way of knowing, nor any reason to believe, there were other forces at play, and was altogether overcome by a crushing sense of doubt.
The famous flare of magic, which so many waited eagerly to see, never came.
The island went silent and the audience, impervious to their own fading light, did the same. Mickey cast a panicked look at his hands, then stumbled backwards. Try as he might, the magic would not come. It refused. And with every second he stood in silence, the glow across the water grew ever darker.
In the uncertain flicker of Mickey’s own heart, a shadowy pair of eyes found their next target. 
A cold rush of wind swept over the audience and with it a bitter murmur that rippled across the water and filled Mickey’s ears.
“We don’t believe.”
Whether the words were spoken, or simply conjured from the invading magic, was unclear. But Mickey heard them nonetheless, and it gave the dark creature exactly the foothold it needed.
He did not see the snake, nor feel its bite, but the venom pierced his heart like the sharpest thorn, and the fear within grew tenfold. A smoky haze of emotion clouded his mind and he lurched forward with a gasp as bitterness surrounded him like a deep fog. Then, through the mist, a quiet, haunting voice whispered in his ear.
‘You could make them believe…’
Mickey was not one who much liked the idea of making anyone do anything.  So when, for a brief moment, he actually humored this idea, it surprised him. But why should it? A small piece of his heart fought fiercely against the thought, but a growing part of him wanted to dive deeper. To explore the possibilities he’d once thought forbidden.
It was the ring of a familiar voice that tipped the scales, and gave the light in his heart the edge it desperately needed.
“Mickey!”
When he blinked, Minnie was there in front of him. In the shine of her voice, the fog receded.
“Mickey, are you all right?” she breathed in a way that made it clear she knew he wasn’t.
He couldn’t respond at first. Glancing past her, he tried to steal a look at the crowd -- to see if there was even a glimmer of light left in their hearts. He saw the people. What he could not see, no matter how hard he tried or how long he stared, was a hint of either light…or shadow. His eyes were blind to their hearts.
He felt empty.
“I can’t…I can’t see them.” He looked at Minnie who, with unspoken understanding, found his hands and squeezed them tight. “I can’t feel them,” he whispered in a voice that was almost a whimper. 
“Oh, Mickey…” 
A booming voice surprised them both.
“Your attention, please. Due to unforeseen circumstances, this performance of Fantasmic has been canceled.”
An enormous ‘boo’ erupted from the crowd across the water, and Mickey ripped himself away from Minnie’s grasp.
“No, no!” He motioned frantically to the tech booth stationed in the midst of the crowd. “Don’t stop it! I can fix this! I can-” 
“You will,” Minnie urged him abruptly, and grabbed his hand as she began to usher him off the stage. “But not now.”
“But…” Mickey cast another glance across the water, swallowing the shame that rose inside him.  He could no longer see their hearts, but he didn’t need to to see their frustration and disappointment. Beside him, Minnie shuddered just slightly. One look at her face, which had only minutes ago been glowing with a light fueled by faith and trust, and he knew that whatever this was, she could feel it too. Her eyes were now dull and tired, and the light surrounding her was nearly gone. 
Meekly, Mickey surrendered and followed her away. 
Behind the curtain that shielded the island from prying eyes, utter madness was breaking loose.  The princesses were gathered together, speaking in hushed, panicked whispers. Cinderella’s dress had dissolved into rags. Rapunzel’s locks were once again losing their golden sheen. Ariel could not find her voice at all. Virtually everyone else was crowded around the few stage managers that happened to be there, talking over each other to try to get any answers whatsoever. 
It was Donald who spotted Mickey first and, with little regard for subtlety, loudly squawked out his name. “MICKEY!”
All eyes turned, and Mickey wished he could sink into the ground to escape their stare as his friend came darting over.  If there was one thing Donald was known for, it wasn’t his impeccable articulation. Years of friendship had made him at least comprehensible, but the frenzy with which he launched his words at Mickey left the mouse as lost as ever.
“Donald! Wouldja slow down? I can’t understan-”
“Gawrsh, Mick…what happened?” Goofy interrupted, sauntering over with only a hint of concern…which was still significantly more than usual. “One minute everythin’s fine ‘n dandy, and the next, all the magic’s kaput!”
Donald huffed and glared at Goofy. “That’s what I was saying.”
Mickey opened his mouth to reply, then closed it again. Everyone -- princesses, pirates, and virtually every other member of the cast -- all stared silently, waiting with bated breath for his explanation. But he had none. He could not begin to explain what had happened, or what he had lost.
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