#and i don’t check my inbox on ao3 EVER

[genshinluvr]

Predator vs. Prey

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: You're put to the test on how well you can escape in case people are hunting you down. Your trial was going well in the beginning until you ran into the predators the men are training you to run away from.

Note: To be honest, I couldn't come up with a good title for this fic. I went with what it was supposed to be about and ran with it. I think this fic or the concept of Predator vs. Prey is a good smut idea, but I'm not entirely sure if I'll ever make it into a smut. I did have an idea for Childe that is similar to this but Halloween themed, but I never made it. If anyone wants me to make a fic for Childe with a theme like this, let me know in the inbox, and maybe I'll make it a Halloween mini-fic for him. I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: There is some action scenes in the middle (maybe close to the end) of the story. Reader gets injured, but it's nothing major.

Word Count: 7.1k

Trees around you whip in your face as you dash through the trees of Sumeru. You’re running as fast as you can, and somehow, it’s not fast enough. Sweat drips down your face, your heart punches against your chest, and your legs feel like they’re about to give out from underneath you. An arrow whizz past your face, forcing you to come to an abrupt stop before running in another direction.

They’re out to get you, and they almost succeeded. You can’t let them win because if you did let them win, you don’t know what the consequences are going to be. Your lungs are on fire, and you swear you can taste blood in your mouth when you take gulps of air. The air is heavy, the sun is high in the sky, and the trees towering over you do little to nothing to shield you from the burning rays. 

Footsteps are fast approaching, causing you to turn around to check and see how close they are to getting you. Because you were distracted, it led to you getting tackled from the side. You and the person crash to the ground. Your ears are ringing, and your vision blurs. You want to push the person off you, but you’re so tired, and you can barely lift your head up to see who tackled you to the ground. 

“Aha! Gotcha!” The person proudly exclaims, pinning you to the ground by straddling your hips.

The people chasing after you stop before you and the person above you. They’re all panting, hands propping on their hips while trying to catch their breaths. You blink rapidly, trying to clear your vision. The person pinning you to the ground is smirking at you. You push the person off you and prop yourself up on your forearms, gulping as much air as you possibly can. 

“Alright, you win. Now, can you please get off me? It’s really hot, and my clothes are sticking to my skin,” you say.

Dainsleif takes a step forward and crosses his arms over his chest, looking at you with disapproval. “You were distracted. If you weren’t distracted, Itto wouldn’t have tackled you to the ground,” Dainsleif says.

“Hey! It’s not my fault for being distracted! I didn’t know that Childe was going to be shooting arrows at me while I ran for my life!” You said, pointing at the ginger Harbinger.

Childe walks over to the arrow sticking out from the tree before the bow and arrows disappear from thin air. Childe walks back to the group, his hands by his side while snorting at your comment. Childe wipes the sweat from his forehead before taking his gray jacket off, fanning himself with his hand. 

Childe clears his throat. “Listen, when you’re in this situation, many things will be going on around you! I’m just preparing you for the worst-case scenario!” Childe says, holding his hand in front of him as if he’s surrendering. 

You stare at the ginger Harbinger, not saying a word. That arrow almost cut your face, and he’s acting like he didn’t do anything wrong?! Well, he technically didn’t do anything wrong. Like what Childe said, he’s preparing you for the worst-case scenario, and he did pretty well! You didn’t get distracted by the arrow flying past your face, thankfully. 

“You should also learn to dodge arrows. Who knows what could have happened if you didn’t dodge the arrows,” Gorou comments, walking up to you and Itto.

Gorou holds his hand out for you to take. Itto gets off of you, wiping the bead of sweat from his forehead. You grab Gorou’s hand and get off the ground, wiping the dirt and grass off your clothes. You look down at your white pants, groaning internally. The grass stains on your white pants are going to be a pain in the ass to get off. Those things are stubborn to get off.

You look at Gorou, none of you letting go of each other’s hands. “And how do you expect me to dodge something sharp? You know what happened last time I tried to dodge something sharp,” you sigh in defeat.

Al Haitham chuckles, shaking his head. “That we do. You got an uneven haircut that day,” Al Haitham comments.

You untuck your hair from behind your ears and point at the chunk of hair that’s shorter than the rest. You press your lips into a thin line, not saying anything. Everyone slowly turns to look at Venti, who’s rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish smile. Venti thought it’d be a great idea to have you stand in front of the dummies and try to dodge the arrows he was shooting at you. It went well at first, but then more people decided to join in, and that resulted in you having an unwanted haircut. 

It wasn’t entirely Venti’s fault, but he did suggest it. You agreed to it without hesitation because you were curious to see how good of a reflex you have. Needless to say, it’s decent but not good enough to save you from that haircut.

“Anyway, is this test really necessary? You know I hardly leave the abode unless I have to go to school or when we have reservations,” you said, tucking your hair behind your ear.

Diluc sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yes, it is necessary. Danger is lurking around every corner of Teyvat. Since you’re our significant other, you’re more at risk of having a target on your back for being associated with us,” Diluc replies.

Recently, your boyfriends think it’s best to test your stealth. They put you through a series of tests, and so far, you have done fairly decent on these trials. Your beloveds learn that you’re great at sneaking around, and you’re great at sneaking around because you always sneak downstairs to grab a snack at three in the morning. Since you don’t have summer classes, you stay up late with your boyfriends.

While you’re great at sneaking around, you can’t sneak from Tighnari, Itto, and Gorou because those three have a keen sense of hearing. Mainly Tighnari and Gorou. When your stealth trial started in Mondstadt at the Stormterror’s Lair, those two were able to track you down while listening to every little noise you made. 

Ayato approaches you and hands you a bottle of water. “Make sure to hydrate. This isn’t the end of your trial,” says Ayato.

You take the bottle of water from Ayato’s hands and chug the water. You’ve been outside in Sumeru for who knows how long. You assumed that you failed the first round because Itto tackled you to the ground while you were distracted. At least, you’re pretty sure it was the first round. You ran through the forest of Sumeru for a while, and the men told you to run without looking back. They’ll start chasing after you and throwing obstacles in your way a minute after you run into the forest. 

Having twenty-five people chase after you, shooting arrows in your direction along with blowing gusts of wind in your way as you try to escape was thrilling but also terrifying. The possibility of you getting hurt is high, but it’s also something you’re going to have to deal with if someone were to hunt you down. 

You gesture to the men, wiping the corner of your lips. “What are we going to call this test? Is it a speed test or what?” You ask while closing the water bottle and leaning up against the tree.

“Predator versus Prey! That is what we should call it!” Venti comments, nodding his head happily.

You blink at Venti before scratching your cheek. That would be a fitting name for what you’re being put through, but at the same time, it sounds like a kink. A primal fetish. You pursed your lips and began looking around, scratching the back of your neck. Should you tell Venti, or should you keep it to yourself and act like nothing inappropriate popped up in your mind a few seconds ago?

Xiao narrows his eyes at you. “Why do you have that look on your face?”

You shake your head, uncap the water bottle and take a sip. There’s no way you’re going to tell them, or else one of them will want to do it. Kink aside, you like the feeling of having to run away from something. You’re awful at hunting something or someone down, but having someone chase after you? 

“I can see steam coming from your ears. Are you sure you’re okay?” Aether asks, approaching you and pressing his gloved hand against your forehead.

You brush Aether’s hands away and nod. “Yeah! I’m fine, Aether. Don’t worry about me,” You lie, giving the blond a fake smile. 

Yeah. There’s no way in hell you’re going to be telling anyone of them about you liking the thrill of being chased. You didn’t mind being chased as long as you knew that person and as long as you were not in actual danger. Therefore being pursued and hunted down by your twenty-five handsome boyfriends is thrilling! But being hunted and chased down by Eremites and Treasure Hoarders is something you never want to experience ever. Unless… unless… actually, you know what? Forget it. 

You squeeze the water bottle in your hands. “I know Ayato said that this isn’t the end of my trial, but is it the end of my trial for today, or are we going to continue after the water break?” you ask, brushing your strands of hair away from your face.

The men look at one another, silently communicating with each other. You cover your mouth and yawn, already feeling the exhaustion catching up to you. You don’t think you can go on any longer if you’re feeling exhausted. Still, like Childe said previously, many things can happen. It’s not like the people hunting you down are going to let you rest before continuing the chase. Although that would be hilarious if they did let you rest. 

“As much as we would like to continue the test, we think it’s best to stop here for today,” Thoma answers.

“For your sake and for Baizhu’s sake,” Tighnari comments, pointing his thumb over in Baizhu’s direction.

Oh, fuck. You should have remembered about Baizhu. Everyone’s heads whip toward Baizhu’s direction to see the poor doctor doubling over while trying to take deep breaths without collapsing. Changsheng sits prettily around the green-haired man’s shoulders, whispering something to the doctor. Heizou and Kazuha rush to Baizhu’s side and wrap his arms around their shoulders, helping the man stand up.

“Are you alright, Doctor Baizhu?” Kazuha asks, gazing at Baizhu worriedly. 

Heizou points at the fallen tree before the two anemo vision holders assist the green-haired man to the tree. Baizhu sits on the tree, gulping air as he tries to calm his racing heart. You run your hands through your hair. How could you forget that Baizhu can’t run due to his illness? After a few minutes of silence, Baizhu clears his throat.

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to worry any of you,” Baizhu says, rubbing the back of his neck as his cheeks turn red with embarrassment and shame.

You approach the man and sit beside him. Seeing Baizhu having to apologize for something he has no control over makes you upset. You frown, placing your hand on the small of his back and gently rubbing his back. “Baizhu, you don’t need to apologize for anything.”

Baizhu sighs and rests his cheek on your head after you scoot to sit closer to him, wrapping an arm around his slim waist. Baizhu sits straight and coughs into his right elbow, wincing when sharp pain shoots up his chest. Baizhu squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath, placing his hand on his chest.

Heizou sighs, propping his hands on his hips while looking at the others. “We should head back to the abode for Doctor Baizhu to rest and take his medications. [Y/N] needs to rest as well before tomorrow,” Heizou says.

Everyone returned to the abode, and now you’re in the infirmary with Baizhu, Albedo, Dottore, and Tighnari. Usually, Baizhu prescribes himself medications, but Albedo, Dottore, and Tighnari insist on doing it on Baizhu’s behalf. You weren’t sure if Baizhu didn’t protest because he didn’t want to cause a scene or if Baizhu was too tired to argue back.

“You know, Doctor Baizhu. As a doctor, you should know that health is important. But it seems like you put [Y/N]’s test over your health instead,” Dottore comments, turning to look at the green-haired doctor while leaning against the counter with his arms over his chest.

Baizhu doesn’t respond, only sighs in response and lies on the examination table. You sit on the edge of the examination table and brush his hair away from his face. Baizhu smiles at you weakly as you caress his face, stroking his pale cheek with your thumb. Baizhu places his hand over yours, wrapping his fingers around your hands before bringing your hands to his lips and pressing a light kiss on your knuckles. 

Albedo sighs and glares at Dottore from the corner of his eyes. “Scolding Doctor Baizhu is the last thing you should be doing, Dottore. I don’t understand how someone uncompassionate like you is even in the field of medicine,” Albedo mutters, walking past the Harbinger to give Baizhu his medication. 

“He’s not even a real doctor. The title was just handed over to him,” Scaramouche interjects from the entryway.

You look at the door to see Scaramouche leaning against the door frame with his arms over his chest. Dottore glowers at Scaramouche, who ignores the icy-blue-haired Harbinger before entering the room with a sigh. You and Tighnari help Baizhu sit up while Albedo hands Baizhu his medication with a cup of water.

You, Dottore, Albedo, Tighnari, and Scaramouche ended up leaving Baizhu at the infirmary to go downstairs to where the others are waiting for the five of you. Baizhu wanted to rest in the infirmary for a little longer before returning to his bedroom. Archons, you’re not mentally or physically prepared for tomorrow’s test. Your legs feel like jelly, and you’re worried you might collapse mid-test and roll down a hill. 

“So, what do you guys want to talk to me about?” You ask, sitting on the couch between Kaveh and Cyno.

Cyno looks at the others, turning to look at you. “We’re going to meet up in the usual spot where the test was held, but we will not go there with you,” Cyno says.

You blink at the Mahamatra and then at the others, who nod in agreement. You expect there to be someone protesting about you going to the location alone. Still, shockingly enough, no one objected to the idea. You squint your eyes at the men, leaning back in your seat and crossing your leg over the other. They’re up to something. You know they are, and when they devise something together, it’s never good. They all stare at you, waiting for your response. How else are you supposed to reply exactly?

“All of you came up with this plan while Albedo, Tighnari, Dottore, Baizhu, and I were in the infirmary?” You ask, wanting clarification from the men before you.

Kaveh nods. “That’s correct! We came up with this plan while the five of you were in the infirmary,” Kaveh replies, scratching the back of his neck.

You nod slowly, poking the inside of your cheek with your tongue. If the majority of the men came up with this plan while the other four men were in the infirmary, then technically, everyone didn’t really come up with this plan. It was twenty-one men that put this plan together while the others were occupied with something else.

Kaeya nudges your foot to get your attention. “If you’re wondering how we came up with this plan while the five of you were occupied with something, we came up with this idea while giving you a head start before we started chasing after you in the forest,” Kaeya explains, sending a wink your way.

Thaaaat makes more sense. Right, how could you forget about that? You purse your lips, nodding. Okay, so you will be going to the site alone tomorrow. Does that mean the men will be waking up before you or after you? Either way, you’re not prepared for tomorrow because your legs feel weak and sore. You’re hoping your stamina will be slightly better than what it currently is and that your legs won’t betray you mid-test.

“Any other questions you have for us before we dismiss you?” Pierro asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

You hold up a finger. “One question… well, two questions. What’s Baizhu going to do while this test is happening?”

“We’re not entirely sure. What we do know is Baizhu will not be participating in chasing after you through the forest due to his illness,” Zhongli replies.

Pantalone props his arms on Zhongli’s shoulders. “And what’s your other question, butterfly?”

You open your mouth to ask, but your mind goes blank. You stare at Pantalone and Zhongli, letting your hand fall on your lap. Fuck. What was the other question you wanted to ask? You sigh, falling back on the couch and closing your eyes. Pantalone and Zhongli glance at each other, unsure of what to say.

“Are you going to ask the second question?” Capitano asks.

Archons, you can almost hear the man raise his eyebrows at you after asking that question. You huff, sit up and grab a throw pillow nearby before hugging it to your chest. You think long and hard, trying to recall what your second question was. Of course, nothing came to mind. 

Diluc pushes himself off the wall he’s leaning on and begins walking up the stairs. “This is a sign for [Y/N] to go to their room and rest,” Diluc says, continuing up the stairs.

You stand abruptly, grabbing the others' attention. “I remember now!” You exclaim, clapping your hand. “Will we leave the abode at the same time or at different times?”

“We will be leaving at different times. We need to leave early to prepare your trial, but we will have your breakfast prepared for you on the table,” Thoma interjects, smiling at you.

You nod. Alright, that’s probably the only question you have for the men. Baizhu won’t be joining the trial, and the men will be leaving the estate early in the morning to prepare the things for your trial. You get off the couch and bid the men goodnight (with hugs and kisses) before walking to your bedroom to take a shower and go straight to bed after finishing your shower. Tomorrow is going to be a long day, and you need to get as much sleep as you can. Once you finished your shower and changed into clean underwear and clothes, the minute you lay on your bed, you were out like the light.

Like a blink of an eye, it’s already the next day. You wake up to your alarm blaring in your ears, and you immediately leave your bed to get ready for the trial. Despite sleeping for a long time and through the entire night, you feel like you barely slept. Almost like you were constantly moving around on your bed, fixing your pillow, trying to find the comfiest sleeping position to sleep in, only to lay in bed and have your eyes closed for eight hours or more. It was terrible, and you’re worried you won’t be able to focus on your trial and that you’ll disappoint your boyfriends. Granted, they would rather have you well-rested than run in the forest with less than two hours of sleep. 

Just when you’re about to step out of the estate, a voice calls out to you, “Ah, ah, ah! Can’t forget about your water now.”

You turn to see Baizhu approaching you with your water bottle in his hand. Baizhu holds the water bottle out to you, smiling at you. You grab the water from Baizhu’s hands, smiling at him. Baizhu looks ten times better than how he did yesterday. You’re glad Baizhu didn’t leave with the men while in terrible shape. You’re unsure if he’s doing well now. Still, since he looks better compared to yesterday, you’re assuming the man is doing better than before. You notice a note attached to your water bottle. You grab the letter and tear it off the bottle before reading it to yourself. 

“Good morning, dearest! While Baizhu will not be joining us in this trial, he will be on the sidelines, watching everything go down. He will be there to treat any injuries in case people get injured! We didn’t want you to go to the spot alone, so Baizhu offered to keep you company!”

It seems like Baizhu will be coming along! At least you won’t be alone when you’re traversing to the location where the trial was held the day before! It’s great to have someone accompany you, and you won’t be bored or lonely on your way there. Baizhu holds his arm out for you to take. You link your arms around Baizhu’s arms, and the two of you set off to the location the day before.

The travel was short, but there was never a dull moment between you and the green-haired Doctor. You two talked about each other’s childhood, trading laughter and gossip about the people closest to you two (mainly family or close friends). Upon arriving at the location, you unlink your arms, and Baizhu sets a chair down under the shade, the Serenitea pot floating beside him.

“Are you sure you want to sit there? Why not sit somewhere that has bigger shade?” You say, gesturing toward the forest.

Baizhu doesn’t reply and continues to sit under the shade he found outside the forest. You sigh and uncap your water, taking a light sip of it. You’ve thought about chugging the water, but you’re not sure if you’ll be able to hold your bladder if you drink too much of the water.

“If anything happensssss, do let usssss know, and we will come and get you. The otherssssss will not be pleasssssed if their most treasured person isssss injured,” Changsheng says, perching on Baizhu’s shoulders.

You smile at Changsheng and stroke the top of her head. “Will do! If anything happens and none of you are able to hear me, I will call Xiao,” you said.

The white snake nods before resting on Baizhu’s shoulders, closing her eyes. You give Baizhu a light squeeze on the shoulders. Before you enter the forest, Baizhu stands suddenly and wraps his arms around your shoulders, kissing your cheek. You stand on the tip of your toes and kiss his jaws and rub his back.

Baizhu walks you to the edge of the forest, holding your hand. You and Baizhu trade a small kiss before departing. You walk into the forest while Baizhu is at the entrance, watching your every move. Once you have disappeared from his sight, Baizhu returns to his seat under the shades next to the Serenitea pot. 

You start your trail by walking into the forest. So far, nothing was happening, and therefore, you didn’t see the need to run. Unless you hear rustling, rapid footsteps approaching you, or an arrow flying by your face, you will be walking for the time being while staying alert. Everything is fine and going well so far. Although the strange thing about today’s trial is that no one has started chasing after you, and it’s starting to make you feel on edge.

“I don’t like where this is going,” you mutter.

Yesterday, before your trial, Tighnari and a few of the men went into the forest and marked the trees and trails so you and the other men wouldn’t get lost while trekking through the forest alone. You’re glad they did that because if they didn’t do that, you would’ve gotten lost and probably freaked out about it. 

You can feel eyes on you as you walk through the thick forest of Sumeru. You’re hoping that it’s the men that are keeping their eyes on you and not someone (or something) opposite. You close your eyes and try to listen to your surroundings. The only things you hear are birds chirping and a rush of water from a distance. No footsteps, no rustling of the grass or bushes to signify that someone was approaching you. 

SNAP!

Without hesitation, you duck into the nearest bush and peek from the leaves, trying to pinpoint the location of where the twig snapping came from. It was loud and clear, and you’re not sure how close the twig snapping was, but it was loud enough for you to know that someone was near.

What’s interesting is that after the twig snapped and you ducked into a nearby bush, you didn’t hear anything else afterward. No footsteps, no chatter, etc. Aside from the occasional chirping and waterfall rushing in the background, it's dead silent. You need to start moving, or else someone is going to catch you before you make it to the finish line.

You slowly leave your hiding spot, trying your best not to make a sound. When you’re out of your hiding spot, you begin your journey through the woods. A black and teal smoke appears out of thin air before you, and an arm reaches out to grab you, but you quickly jump back and begin running in the opposite direction. You’re not supposed to do that, but you want to lose Xiao in the forest before continuing down the path.

Xiao growls and begins jumping from tree to tree above you, appearing in a puff of smoke, trying to grab at you. You don’t think you’ll be able to lose Xiao. Not when the man is dubbed the vigilant Yaksha, who is observant, quick on his feet, and ready to strike at any moment. Whoever thought it was a good idea to have someone as fast as Xiao to chase after you really wanted to see you fail.

“You’re going in the wrong direction!” Xiao screams, continuing to chase after you through the woods.

“No, I’m not!” You yell back, refusing to take your eyes off your path.

You know you’re going in the wrong direction. You’re hoping to lose the Yaksha in the forest and get him off your tail, but it looks like it won’t be happening any time soon. So, you make a sharp right turn and continue down the path the men have marked for you the day prior. A portal suddenly opens in front of you, and an arm reaches out to get you. You skid to a stop before jerking around the portal, squealing with fear. 

“Nice try, Dainsleif! You can’t catch me!” You scream, continuing farther into the woods.

Maybe it’s best for you not to provoke the people that are chasing after you because it’s possible you’re adding fuel to the fire. You know these men are competitive. You haven’t seen any of them today, and the minute they start appearing in the forest, you start provoking them by announcing (more like screaming) that they can’t catch you.

A familiar arrow flies by your face, sticking into the tree you ran by. You stop in your tracks, grab the arrow, and continue running deeper into the forest. You take a quick glance at the arrow in your hands, only to realize that it’s Gorou’s arrows and not Childe’s arrows. Itto cackles from a distance, yelling, “Bam!”

You shriek when something slams into your back, sending you rolling to the ground. Whatever just hit you, it’s heavy and weighing down on you. You roll over on your back to see Ushi bouncing on his feet while mooing. Dammit Itto! You grumble and snatch Ushi from the ground and continue where you left off. 

Itto shrieks, running after you. “Hey! Unhand Ushi! Ushi was supposed to knock you down so I could tag you out!”

“Too bad, so sad! You should’ve thought through your plan before throwing Ushi at me!” You scream, hugging Ushi tightly to your chest while clutching Gorou’s arrow with the other hand.

Gorou screams from a distance, “Get them before they escape!”

A figure swoops down from the tree, attempting to grab you, only to snatch Ushi from your arms. You cackle loudly, tossing Gorou’s arrow to the side while continuing to run for your life. Scaramouche growls loudly, throwing Ushi at Itto, who catches the bull. Itto sighs in relief before continuing on pursuing you. 

Scaramouche huffs, “I almost had them! If it weren’t for that chunky bull, I would’ve caught them by now!”

“Hey! How dare you make a comment about Ushi’s weight!” Itto cries, shaking his fist at Scaramouche before the man floats away where you disappeared off to.

You run as fast as you can, dodging trees in the woods, jumping over tree trunks and vines. Rapid footsteps head in your direction, and screaming and cursing from the men fill the air. You weren’t sure if this was what they had planned the day before, but it was something you didn’t expect. 

You somehow made it to the end of the trail that leads to a clear field. You exit the forest, panting. Your legs give out from underneath you, sending you rolling and tumbling in the middle of the field. You lay on the grass, panting and trying to catch your breath. While the marked trail was short compared to the actual size of the forest of Sumeru, you’re glad you made it out. Although, you’re not sure if your trial is finished. You get off the ground, dust your clothes and turn toward the forest, only to bump into someone.

“Oh, shit! You scared me!” You gasped, pressing your hands against your chest.

You turn to apologize to one of the men, only to freeze. You take a step back and stare at the group of people before you, giving them a wary smile. Eremites and Treasure Hoarders stand before you, readying their weapons and cracking their knuckles. You’re fucked. Oh no. You quickly look over your shoulders to see if the men are behind you, only to see no one. 

“Uh, sorry for bumping into you guys! I was uh… running away from the Rishboland Tigers,” you squeak.

One of the Eremites raises his eyebrows at you. “There aren’t Rishboland Tigers in this particular area. Are you lying to us?” He asks, stepping closer to you.

You sigh. Would it hurt to tell the Eremites and Treasure Hoarders you’re following a trail? You press your lips into a thin line, refraining from telling the Eremites and Teasure Hoarders what you were doing in the forest. The men are training you for a reason. They’re training you in case you run into situations like this when they’re not around, but so far, nothing has happened yet, thankfully. 

Archons, it would be stupid of you to expose the plans the men came up with. You give the Eremites and Treasure Hoarders a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of your neck, and step back. Do these people know what personal space is? 

“Alright, alright. You caught me. I was training for this upcoming race the Akademiya is holding for their students. I want to do well and get the first-place prize,” You lie, sighing in defeat.

The short Treasure Hoarder narrows his eyes at you. “And what is that prize?”

You blink at the man. What? Does he expect the Akademiya to reward you Mora for winning a race that you made up? Plus, even if the Akademiya were to host an event like that, you don’t think the Akademiya would reward Mora. Well, they probably will, but not the amount the Treasure Hoarder is assuming it would be.

You clear your throat. “It’s a scholarship for the upcoming quarter at the Akademiya, along with a trip to the Mausoleum of King Deshret with researchers,” you lie.

A Treasure Hoarder from the back scoffs. “Sounds like a shitty prize if you ask me,” the blond Treasure Hoarder mutters, rolling his eyes.

“Sounds shitty to you because you were rejected by the Akademiya,” the gray-haired Eremite retorts, smirking at the blond Treasure Hoarder.

You purse your lips and subtly take another step back while the blond Treasure Hoarder and gray-haired Eremite start bickering with one another. You begin looking at your surroundings, trying to find a place to escape. You can go back into the forest, but you can’t guarantee the Treasure Hoarders and Eremites won’t follow after you. 

While the Treasure Hoarders and Eremites are distracted with trying to prevent the leaders of their group from getting into a scuffle, you take that as your chance and run back into the forest without looking. One thing you learned from yesterday is not to look back while you’re running, or else that will be one of your downfalls. 

“Hey! Where are you going!?” The Eremite screams.

The blond Treasure Hoarder groans with anger and frustration. “Don’t just stand there! After them, you buffoons!” The blond Treasure Hoarder screams.

You groan and sprint into the forest, hoping you’d run into one of the men. The screams and shouts of the Treasure Hoarders and Eremites follow after you, filling the once-quiet air in the forest. The men haven’t fully prepared you for this situation. If you’re able to escape and lose the Eremites and Treasure Hoarders, great! But the men have yet to teach you on what you should do if you were caught by the two groups. Childe and the other Harbingers have taught you how to use weapons, but alas, you do not have a weapon on your person. You’re fucked. You’re so fucked, and you’re looking everywhere for one of the men, and yet none of them made an appearance after you succeeded in escaping the chase. 

You blindly reach out and rip a tree branch while passing by a large tree. You might as well use the tree branch as a weapon. It’s better to have something to use as a weapon than be empty-handed. An Eremite appears before you out of nowhere, holding his arm out to catch you. You didn’t stop fast enough. Your feet slid on the ground before you slammed into the Eremite. The Eremite wraps his beefy arms around you. You growl and thrash around in his arms, leaning down and biting his arm hard.

The Eremite screams and slams you against the tree, knocking the wind out of you. You wheeze and swing the tree branch blindly, successfully hitting him in the face with the tree branch. The Eremite groans and kicks you in the stomach as you get up from the ground. You stumble and slam against the tree.

You breathe heavily, trying to calm your nerves. Your heartbeat is skyrocketing, and your mind is all over the place. You don’t know whether you should continue to run or fight back. The training took a different turn. You let out a scream, charging at the Eremite, tackling the beefy person to the ground, and begin whacking the Eremite with the tree branch while pulling on his hair with your other hand.

If this is the way you’re going to die, then you might as well make the most of it. The Eremite blindly reaches up to your hair and grabs your hair by the roots before yanking you down. Footsteps approach to where you and the Eremite are rolling around and smacking each other. 

“Take your hands off them immediately!” Someone hollers, grabbing the Eremite by the shirt and yanking him off you.

You roll over and squat, rubbing your cheekbones. You’re going to get a bruise later. The Eremite punched you in the face really hard, and your vision went dark for a second. Gentle hands grab you by the biceps, helping you up from the ground.

“Are you alright?” Aether asks, gazing at you worriedly.

You shake your head. “I’m fine, Aether. It’s nothing I couldn’t handle,” you rasp, rubbing your stomach.

You look up, blinking away the black dots dotting your vision. When your vision clears up, you do a double take and point at the men with your mouth agape like a fish out of water. Your beloved boyfriends aren’t wearing their typical clothing. Instead, half of them are dressed as Eremites, Treasure Hoarders. 

Al Haitham steps forward, grabbing the Eremite by the shirt collar and slamming the Eremite against the tree. You can’t help but admire the beauty that is Al Haitham. Al Haitham is dressed as the Eremite Daythunder. He takes the rich red brocade off his eyes, glaring down at the Eremite, who freezes in fear when they lock eyes.

Al Haitham leans down, tilting his head to the side to get a better look at the gray-haired Eremite. “I’m not one for conflict, but if I catch you or anyone putting their hands on my significant other, then we’re going to have a problem,” Al Haitham hisses, glaring at the gray-haired Eremite.

The Eremite holds his hands in the air while sputtering out, “Hey, hey! We didn’t want any trouble!”

Cyno steps forward, also dressed as an Eremite, glaring at the man. “Oh yeah? If you didn’t want any trouble, then why did you chase [Y/N] into the forest, hm? It seems like you were looking for trouble for me,” Cyno comments, his polearm materializing in his hands. 

Before Cyno can hit the Eremite, a branch swats the Eremite across the face, leaving deep lacerations behind from how hard the branch swiped his face. Cyno and the others look over at you, who toss the branch on the ground. You let out an infuriated sigh, rubbing your temples. It’s hot and humid in the forest, the Eremites and Treasure Hoarders ruined your day, and you’re starting to feel cranky. It’s only best if you’re the first one that takes a swipe at the Eremite.

You turn and start walking away. You turn your head over your shoulders, looking at your boyfriends, the Eremites, and Treasure Hoarders. “Let’s go return to where Baizhu is waiting. I don’t have the time and patience to deal with the Eremites and Treasure Hoarders. But that doesn’t mean none of you are allowed to teach them a lesson or two,” you say.

Childe chuckles, popping his knuckles as he turns to the group of Eremites and Tresure Hoarders. “You didn’t have to tell me twice, snookums,” Childe smirks as his bow appears out of thin air in his hands.

Al Haitham, Zhongli, Itto, Xiao, and Pantalone walk you back to where Baizhu is waiting for you. You notice they’re all dressed as Eremites. You stop in your tracks, turn to face the men, and point at them while looking at them from head to toe. 

“Was this part of the plan? To dress like Eremites and Treasure Hoarders and chase me in the forest?” you ask, propping your hands on your hips.

“We think dressing up would get us into character and put you in the mindset where you think you’re actually being chased by Eremites and Treasure Hoarders, but you didn’t look at us the entire time while running,” Pantalone chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck.

You nod, poking the inside of your cheek with your tongue. “Well, if I recall correctly, I was told not to look over my shoulders while I’m trying to escape from the Eremites and Treasure Hoarders,” you say.

You can’t help but look at their muscular arms. Al Haitham taps your chin to grab your attention. You look up at Al Haitham’s face. He raises his eyebrows at you, a smirk ghosting over his lips. You didn’t know what Al Haitham was smirking at until you realized you were staring at his bare chest in the Eremite Daythunder costume.

Zhongli chuckles while shaking his head. “It seems like if [Y/N] were to be chased by Eremite Daythunders and Eremite Sunfrosts, [Y/N] would get distracted by their physiques,” Zhongli murmurs, looking at the others.

You cover your cheeks with both hands before running toward the exit where Baizhu and Changsheng are waiting. On second thought, maybe you would rather be chased by the Eremites than be teased by your boyfriends for staring at them while they’re dressed as Eremites and Treasure Hoarders. But imagine…. Imagine they chase you around the estate dressed as Eremites, ready to—

“Are you okay?” Kaeya asks, walking up to you while wiping blood off his cheek with the back of his hand.

You clear your throat, nodding. “Yeah! I’m fine!” you squeak, looking away from the man.

Imagine if Predator vs. Prey were to take a different turn. A more…. Intimate turn. Archons, you need to get your head checked out. You walk over to Baizhu, waving at the green-haired man, who rushes toward you and begins checking on the injuries you sustained during the trial. Despite what happened today, you don’t think this is the end of your trial. After all, you were chased by Eremites and Treasure Hoarders. That is going to be another way for the men to make the training/trial more complicated. 

“Next, we should focus on hand-to-hand combat and uses of weapons,” you hear Kazuha say, turning to look at you.

Venti nudges the person closest to him. “I don’t know about you, but [Y/N] beating up the Eremite with the tree branch is pretty hot,” Venti whispers.

After not hearing a response from the person beside him, Venti turns to look at the person with curiosity, only to realize that he was talking to you the entire time. Venti’s eyes widen, and he smiles at you sheepishly after straightening up, rubbing his back while giggling shyly.

“How much did you hear?” Venti asks, his face almost as red as the fabric hanging around his neck.

You clear your throat. “I will pretend I didn’t hear a thing,” you say, continuing to let Baizhu treat your wounds.

Venti nods and slowly backs away, covering his red cheeks with his hands. You sit back in your seat, sighing. Looks like this isn’t the end of the trials. “I wonder who else they’re going to dress like. The Nobushi and Kairagi from Inazuma?” You don’t think you can handle seeing your handsome boyfriends cosplaying as beefy villains. 

Note: Ahhhhhh, I'm not sure how I feel about this overall fic, especially the ending of the fic ;v; Next week, I'll be posting a second part of the Soul Puppet! It's not angst, or does it have too many compared to the first part. I already discussed with the requester how the second part is going to go :> Also, for those who want to, my discord is officially opened! This link is temporary and will expire after seven days. If you want to join, here is the link to [Zhongli's Abode]! If you like the server, you can stay! If it's not your cup of tea, then you can leave whenever you want! To my new and/or returning readers, please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for my Isekai'd!Reader one-shot series and my overall taglist: @xyji, @chirikoheina, @yoru-trash, @kaoyamamegami, @deartoru, @luminarymoonlight, @toobytub, @ins4nebish, @bokuto-kinnie, @exhaustedcommunist, @jadedist, @mompt2, @chalksdreams, @thelost-in-time, @ventisweetheart, @hispasian-otaku, @juuuuuj101010, @samarill, @testsubject0012, @irisxiel, @kazuhaprnt, @lunarapple, @emilymikado, @mabie, @vinnie-w, @n8mareee, @heyimkay, @eliciana, @blesstosuisen, @goldeneclipsedragon, @jjvr4yxc, @sovermike-21-blog, @vox34, @skyyyyackerman, @undecidingfate, @nightlysunn, @faeryminnyx, @simpcreator, @lucifarts-boxers, @thelovebuggs, @urlocalheizousimp, @sunlightstarr, (Accounts that I was unable to tag have been removed. Those who don't want to be tagged in certain stories are not tagged in this particular post. Remember to check your settings if you're allowing people to mention you/tag you in posts or not)

Read more of my works on my Masterlist | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

[stillness-in-green]

Chapter 423 Thoughts: Further Reading

I'm going to try to clear out some inbox/message/AO3 comment backlog in the next week, but in the meantime, having gotten my own post up on the chapter, I also want to share some posts from others that are in a similar vein as my own thoughts, or that I otherwise find worthwhile.

From @codenamesazanka: 

Nal has been doing a lot of post-writing and ask-answering since the leaks first dropped, and it’s all on-point, but there are a few posts I want to specifically link to:

Firstly, this post on how the U.A. kids in general and Deku specifically have, despite fans’ expectations, long been underprepared to truly acknowledge and address the structural problems of the system they’re upholding, as well as how Deku bears that out in the Edgy Deku arc.

Secondly, this post is on how the warning signs for this ending have been there all along offers a good concise rundown of some key places where, if Deku had ever cared about Shigaraki Tomura as a person (rather than just the Crying Child as a metaphorical construct), we should have seen him acting differently than he did. 

Thirdly and fourthly, these two posts talk about the Japanese BNHA fandom’s response to the chapter.  I think it’s interesting and worthwhile to consider the target audience/native culture’s response to a work when possible—there’s a lot you can learn about a story and its author’s intentions by knowing how the story’s audience is receiving it!  It can tell you about the audience the story is written for, what the values infusing the story are understood to be, whether those values align with the values of the audience, whether the author is trying to be populist or challenging, and so forth.

The culture gap between Horikoshi and his Western/U.S.ian audience can result in a lot of crossed wires, and checking how the Japanese BNHA fandom is reacting to the story can clarify some of that confusion.  It is, of course, up to the individual to decide how much to mitigate one’s own response to the story in light of that culture gap; I don’t think any creator is owed unquestioning carte blanche just because they’re from a culture with different popular values.  I certainly wouldn’t want someone in Japan watching, for example, Top Gun: Maverick and concluding that it’s beyond criticism because the fetishization of military hardware is just American culture!  Having at least some grasp on the author’s personal context is thus helpful in balancing open-mindedness and critical thinking when analyzing/critiquing a work.

(So, just to be clear, I understand the cultural context of Deku "saving Shigaraki's heart" being considered a worthwhile victory even in the absence of saving his *checks notes* life. I just disagree in the strongest possible terms.)

For good measure, have another post about the disparity between how destructive Deku’s focus on the Crying Child is to any chance Hero Society has to improve in the future.     

From @itsnothingofinterest: 

This reblog of an older post discussing the increasing power of quirks over the generations and how that problem would logically intersect with the precedents Deku sets here.  Bleak stuff!      

From @class1akids: 

First, this post runs through some of the fans’ desperate attempts to second-guess Shigaraki dying here but explains the various ways each would be in some fashion unsatisfying, because there’s no solution that doesn’t ruin some key aspect of the story.

Second, this very short post raises a very good point—one I hadn’t considered!—about how Shouto may not have talked as much to Dabi as Ochaco did to Toga, but Shouto’s always valued actions over words, and his actions indicate loud and clear how much he wanted to save Dabi.  And in ways that thematically tie into his arc about how he perceives and defines his quirk, no less!  It’s not about Chapter 423, as such, but it’s a very instructional contrast between Deku and Shouto, the latter of whom was actually trying to both stop and save the Villain he was fighting, the former of whom…was not.     

From @linkspooky: 

Spooky’s got a pair of posts contrasting BNHA with Yu-Gi-Oh GX, both of which are very long and very worth reading.  I don’t know if they were always intended to be companion posts—the first one was posted last month, and the second less than 48 hours after the leaks landed—but they function well in that capacity now.

The Supreme King Judai vs. Dark Deku: How To Do a Dark Deconstruction of your Shonen Hero! is an arc comparison post between the titular arcs and discusses in detail the way GX’s Judai and BNHA’s Deku are put through the paces of a dark hero arc, and why Judai’s works and Deku’s doesn’t.  What it boils down is that GX is willing to let Judai make the bad decisions his prior characterization always foreshadowed that he would make, leading him to fail, horribly, in consequential, lasting ways that paint him as being very much in the wrong.  BNHA, conversely, has the characterization foreshadowing but is unwilling to the point of open terror of letting Deku fail or be wrong in ways that will actually do lasting damage to him, his friends, or his relationships.  This is the same core problem the overarching series faces, and thus, while not about Chapter 423 itself, this piece is an excellent preface for the next one.

Shigaraki Vs. Yubel: How To Save Your Villain deals with the total collapse of BNHA as a story due to the way it fails to recognize Deku killing Shigaraki as a failure of its main character’s personal arc.  In comparison to GX’s resolution of Judai and Yubel’s relationship, It describes the story BNHA seemed to be promising us it would tell in its endgame, then discusses how that story is fundamentally broken by its actual depiction of Deku’s actions wrt Shigaraki and the other Villains Deku faces.  I particularly enjoy the breakdown of why the language of “forgiveness” thrown around by Deku and Ochaco is so wrong-headed and off-base.

A handful of pithy witticisms and bleak humor:

At least we’ll always have Spinaraki.

Imagine the story we’d have gotten if Deku had walked out into the hallway and thrown it into the nearest trashcan.

This would have been a lot less work than the concert, admit it.

[envy-of-the-apple]

Hi! I read SEM on Ao3 and I'm foaming at the mouth over how good it is!! I saw the Author's note at the end and immediately searched you up on this app. Might have binged read all the asks about SEM so my initial questions have been quenched by the answers you lovely individual provided :))

All I can say is SEM is exactly what I want in the Yan!Gojo fics I read; Beautifully written, poetic analogy, baby trapping , and a Yan!Gojo who doesn't hurt and torture reader physically (despite his bullying, his lackeys didn't really beat her up), and is more of an obsessive, love-drunk monster who resorts to more intimate ways to make reader stay.

God I never felt this way for a fic in so long, massive brain rot! Also, the way he reserves "Toru" just for reader is so adorable in a morbid way. When I read that when a booty call tried calling him "Toru" and he got mad I was like giggling kicking my legs like mans still subconsciously thinking about his TOTGA and that got me acting up! Looking forward for the Geto fic, you amazing human! 🫶🫶🫶

Omg the smile on my face when I saw this in my inbox???? yall are way too sweet stopppppp. Gojo gatekeeping 'toru' is just everything for me. His one-night stands can call him everything but that.

He never calls any of his booty calls 'pretty girl' but you didn't hear that from me sjdkjfkjfkldsjflkds-

If you liked my fic then I urge you to read Falling by Vanasha. Please please please go check it out if you liked Sun eats moon!!!! It’s the only reason my fic was ever created. I get so sad whenever ppl are like “omg your fics amazing” like no (well Ty:)) the only reason I ever got the inspiration was cuz of Vanasha. Go give her all the love you can plsplspls

You know what…yall don’t get the Geto fic until you give Vanasha the attention she deserves. I'm keeping SEM pt 2 hostage until you Make sure you go and leave a 2k comment or something.

[aloysiavirgata]

Thanks to @numinousmysteries for tagging me! I had never checked these stats before!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

92

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

484,620

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I’ve written for Hannibal, Battlestar Galactica, The Fall, and The X-Files, but only The X-Files at this point.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

The Parting Glass (smut)

Animus Possidendi (dark smut)

The Common Fate of All Things Rare (casefile, cowritten)

Lacuna (casefile)

This Her Fever (cancer arc)

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes and no. Not like I should. I am so deeply, truly grateful for every single one.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Well, I killed William in Inhaling the Different Dawn, but that wasn’t at the end.

Maybe Where The Vines Cling Crimson? Scully’s cancer comes back and her fate is ambiguous. And I had Scully kill Emily in Alabaster Stones. But I think that was the right ending for both of them.

As a mother? A Basket of Reeds, where Scully gives William away. I can’t even reread it without a lump in my throat, man.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Tent of Shelter is fluffy and lovely gets a lot of love, and was inspired by a STUNNING manip by @avocadoave but I personally think In The Gale. It’s the one that, to me, feels the most like a grownup relationship of two people processing some trauma. I think that’s an ending that’s happy and also real - like “I don’t love being broken, but I can survive being broken with you.” Two abeyances that lean…

Foxfire for similar reasons. I real love that little story, which I wrote thanks to @perplexistan

I’m 43. I’ve been married for well over two decades and let me tell you that young love is a gift and mature love is a craft.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Some! And that’s really great too, that people read words I wrote and felt so passionately that they left me words about those feelings. What a strange but profound compliment!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I do. PWP isn’t my personal taste so even though I wrote a LOT of smut for the old pornbattles at LJ I wanted the smut to still tell a story.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I can’t say it’s especially crazy, but Fern Hill is a Mulder/Stella Gibson crossover. There are a few little ficlets with XF/Silence of the Lambs crossovers in my Inbox Prompts series.

Oh fuck! Wait! I wrote a Fall/Hannibal/XF crossover called Anthemoessa where Stella, Scully, and Bedelia all meet. Okay that’s it. That wins.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Years ago. God, isn’t that sad? To need positive reinforcement that much?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! It was SUCH a compliment!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have - The Common Fate of All Things Rare

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Mr. Virgata and me. Followed by Fox Mulder and Dana Scully, who literally invented the word. ❤️

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

The Fisher King

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I do pretty good banter and my education makes me pretty good at the sciencey bits.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I get too lost in descriptions and I try too hard to be clever. I do my best to self edit but sometimes I reread things and I’m like oh my GOD SHUT YOUR PRETENTIOUS ASS UP.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I’ve done it for Bedelia and Hannibal in Italian. I’m not sure I understand the question?

19. First fandom you wrote for?

TXF, my one true love.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

I don’t know that I have a favorite per se. I am most proud of the ones that challenged me to do something outside my comfort zone. Samson is one of mytop fives even though it’s Mulder/Diana. I think I did a nice job. I also wrote Pair of Aces/Double or Nothing which is Scully/Byers.

But I do really love the world of Petrichor and Singing of Mount Abora, and I like the cases.

[autisticlancemcclain]

thank u @zenstrike for the tag <333333333 i see ur mic and i'm elated about it

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

185! but i haven't updated in like a week and a half so we're probably closer to 190

2. what’s your total ao3 word count?

556,104. i am very excited to watch it jump up when i finally finish my longfic teehee

3. what fandoms do you write for?

literally just voltron lol. well not counting baby me's wattpad lol. i started writing almost two years ago and just went ham basically. i've been intentionally avoiding things that i know i will get hyperfixated on bc i don't want to stop my writing obsession lol

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

ooooou i'm excited to check. i know it's changed quite a bit over time. i usually sort them by hits!

i will grind you to sand (beneath my louboutin heels) [voltron, 2573 words]: bamf lance fic where i give him a revolver and let him go ham basically

mr. snuggles [voltron, 1656 words]: one of my very earliest fics! lance, lover of weirdo animals, finds a demonic cat-sized spider and adopts it despite his friend's freakouts

he might not look like he gets bitches (but honey that dick was eleven inches) [voltron, 1136 words]: this one is so dorky lol but it's just secret relationship klance coming to light in the most embarrassing possible way

does anyone know where the love of god goes (when the waves turn the minutes to hours) [voltron, 4283]: a canon divergence au where lance is a seer and convinces the skeptics on his team of his abilities by ending the war

this is the part of me that you're never gonna ever get away) [voltron, 3262 words]: a lance & shiro hurt/comfort with a small autistic lance character study! i'm very proud of this one

5. do you respond to comments?

i definitely do on tumblr! it's one of the first things i do when i wake up actually. on ao3, though...i'm pretty sure i have about eight hundred unanswered comments sitting in my inbox 💀 it's an ongoing issue

6. what’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

i'm almost sure it's this post-game show lance leaving fic, because i got comments and asks for weeks begging me to write a happy ending lol. but this fic from the hana universe, from when keith is little and shiro is fighting for custody and they haven't figured things out yet. that one is sad. this dream pov adashi fic is also sad and has no happy ending bc, you know. shiro is in space and adam thinks he's dead and everything. my loneliest series is also still in progress and as such there is no happy ending. and this is my earliest angsty-ending fic with MCD

7. what’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

oh god pretty much everything i write has a happy ending?? if i’m being serious?? frankly i don’t do a lot of linear plot. i just write Scenes that are vaguely connected. BUT my h2o fic had a plot that ended happily, as did my cowboy fic, but truly i’m more of a slice of life kinda gal. all my active wips are plot-driven, though, and i plan for all of them to end happily.

8. do you get hate on fics?

oh god yeah. i get it on brown eyed lance, autistic lance, adhd keith, allura just in general (are you sensing a pattern), my refusal to use readmores, and lately just some demands for me to write differently/more?? most of it is just funny so i post it to goof on it lol, but some of it i just delete and pout about until i forget about it 💀

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

yes and it’s nasty and i will literally never ever post it. although i guess i’ve written some softer stuff that’s more allusion than anything, like in my loneliest series.

10. do you write crossovers? what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

not anymore, but i did when i was a kid?? i think i wrote a pjo/hoo/divergent/the mortal instruments/homestuck/a bunch of other shit fic when i was 13. i’ve successfully blocked that era out of my mind tho so i’m not sure. i do a lot of insane aus, tho. i wrote a fic based off a country song written in the sixties. so.

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

i’ve had people write continuations of my wips?? which i didn’t rly like. i just ignored it.

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

someone has asked me about translating a fic before! haven’t heard anything since tho.

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

i have tried. i’m not very good at it. i have very Specific ideas about things and can be very controlling, so it’s honestly better that i don’t lol.

14. what’s your all-time favorite ship?

klance, easy. been in the trenches of this goddamn fandom since i was 13 years of age. it’s been a Journey.

15. what’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

god, the butterfly effect. i get people asking me to update all the time and i genuinely feel bad, because i have absolutely no ideas or plans for it. i might try to come up with an ending of some kind?? but i wrote that like two years ago, so i have changed a LOT about my writing since then.

16. what are your writing strengths?

dialogue and humour, i think. and sometimes writing lack of emotional communication (if that makes sense — i like to try and write around an emotion).

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

i over explain a lot. and i overuse dialog ur tags sometimes. i have a Very Specific scene playing out in my head and i want everyone else to see it like i’m seeing it, which is my downfall a lot. i’ve been trying to work on implicit stage directions.

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

i think sometimes it’s necessary? it can be a good tool for humour, like with cussing that can’t be achieved in english. but while i understand and read several languages i have always always struggled to speak or write in them. it’s very frustrating so i often avoid the subject entirely lol.

19. first fandom you wrote for?

i’ve been writing fanfic in my head since before i knew what it was, but i started typing things at around 11 when i used to homestuck roleplay with my friends lol. messy messy times.

20. favorite fic you’ve ever written?

oh i am my own target audience. i have several.

i need a man (who’s patient and kind): keith-centric post canon (divergence) fic where lance takes him to his family and keith is good with kids and just keith being loved is the whole point. always.

what if i lose it all: an alternate universe where lance, as a baby, loses both his parents, and then is raised by his oldest siblings. in luis’ pov.

when does a ripple become a tidal wave (when does the reason become the flame): brogane fight & angst canon divergence post season 6; covering shiro’s guilt complex and keith’s unwavering loyalty

he’s into superstitions (black cats and voodoo dolls): halloween verse with witch lance and vampire keith! i have barely spoken about this au on here but rest assured i’m thinking about it all the fucking time

the applebee’s universe: modern au with young keith and lance learning how to love each other

ceilings (plaster): non-linear dream-like fic that’s just so trippy and strange i’m obsessed with it

if the sky comes falling down (for you) there’s nothing in this world i wouldn’t do: a keith character study about how the biggest bleeding heart in the universe loves

the hana universe: brogane-centric universe as their family starts rocky and grows

thank u again for the tag zen <33 open offer for anyone else who would like to hop on!!

[wynnyfryd]

Steddie fic rec list

Yeah so I’ve basically done nothing but read fics about these two idiots since volume 2 came out, khajiit has wares please enjoy

*edit: can’t even begin to tell you how badly in need of an update this list is, so: here’s all my ao3 bookmarks please enjoy like 97 more steddie fics and don’t u fuckin judge me

Favorite long fics (>50k):

1. Mixtape series - @spr1ngandastorm (191k, T, FINISHED AND SO FUCKING GOOD HOLY SHIT) doooooope vampire/kas Eddie fic series with a guitar scene to rival canon

2. A Sign of the Morning - @toedenandbackagain (87k, M) just perfect, so soft and pretty and soft and pretty and soft

3. the lathe - @palmviolet (70k, M, THIS FIC IS NOW FINISHED AND IS A CERTIFIED 🐐 PLEASE GO READ IT) when I tell you that all I do with myself after dinner these days is check my inbox for new updates of this fucking masterpiece of a time loop fic

Favorite medium fics (10-50k):

1. cool just doing nothing with you - @anniebibananie (25k, T) snugs & weed what more do you need

2. there’s a clock in my head (is it wrong? is it right?) - cloverspies (15k, T) come for the steddie, stay for the equally precious ronance

3. the summer of ‘85 series - @toedenandbackagain (15k, T) featuring Steve in his scoops ahoy short shorts and enough UST to rip a hole in the ozone

4. The Road to Mordor - @myrmeraki (32k, M) an excellent “how volume 2 could have gone” action fic

5. Mutual Future - knell (40k, E) we stan a djo title reference and a syrupy sweet get together fic

Favorite short fics (<10k):

1. missouri loves company - @themoondogs (8k, T) I am a simple girl I see fluff and puns and I click immediately

2. sir stephen strider finds his suzie - @lesbianrobin (5k, G) the most charming dnd campaign you ever did see

(not an exhaustive list and not ranked by preference, the numbered list is just to make it a bit easier to read I’m equally obsessed with all of them ok love u bye)

[thgfanfictionlibrary]

Active Authors Masterlist (9)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 /

***Active (on this blog) is defined as a blog/writer who has updated within the past year. Inactive (on this blog) is defined as a blog/writer that has not been updated at all in the past year+. On THG Writing Hiatus (on this blog) is a blog/writer who has updated within the past year but has not posted a fanfic in the fandom in the past year BUT they may return to writing in the future. Lists will be updated as needed based on activity. ***

Created: January 7th, 2023

Last Checked:-----

AntiKryptonite :: ao3

Popular Fic: Banked Flames and Burned Bread-A spark can catch fire in an instant, and before Katniss ever even knew he was alive, Peeta was already on fire. // In some ways, Katniss fell in love with Peeta the minute those burned loaves of bread hit the muddy ground.

Court81981 :: ao3, ffnet

Popular Fic: Crash My Party-Modern AU. Peeta Mellark has never been able to say no to Katniss Everdeen. But after years as friends with benefits, that's going to have to change. Everlark.

daydreamsandcaffeine :: ao3, tumblr

Popular Fic: Naughty or Nice-Summary: Peeta lost a bet, so now he has a temporary new holiday uniform. Katniss reaps the benefits. A holiday modern AU

deinde_prandium :: ao3, tumblr

Popular Fic: Extension Request-“Are you sure you didn’t ask for an extension?” “Pretty sure. I don’t remember sending anything.” “Well, you might want to search your memory again, because your inbox has an email from a Peeta Mellark with the subject line, ‘Re: paper extension pretty please.’” --- In which Katniss learns the hard way that it's never a good idea to email your TA when hopped up on pain medication. Especially when that TA is someone as attractive as Peeta Mellark.

FanficAllergy :: ao3, ff.net, tumblr

Popular Fic: Let Me Fly-When a plague hits District Twelve, Katniss is forced to make some very hard decisions. Together with Gale and what’s left of their families, they decide to escape District Twelve, taking a reluctant Peeta Mellark with them. (@fanficallergy)

hutchabelle :: ao3, ff.net, tumblr

Popular Fic: Too Familiar-Katniss and Peeta enjoy a close friendship that might be a little too familiar, especially when one of them is married. Prompt: Envy

oh_so_loverly :: ao3, ffnet, tumblr

Popular Fic: Closer-Seventeen-year-old Katniss Everdeen returns to her childhood home after years of living out of state, only to find that the town, and certain residents in it, are not quite how she remembers- especially a certain boy who she could have sworn once had blue eyes.

orangecranscones-ao3

Popular Fic: i've been on fire, dreaming of you "I have plenty of fire myself. What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again." Katniss and Peeta try to heal after the revolution. And they (mainly Katniss) finally learn how to love each other.

Strawberry_Cow725-ao3

Popular Fic: Help Me Hold Onto You “I didn’t want to lose you! I didn’t mean to lie to you, I just– I didn’t want to lose you.” I suck in a shaky breath. “And this is all so much, so fast that I can’t even make sense of it. And I’m so scared of whatever I’m feeling, and of who I’m going to be from now on, and what’s going to happen after we get off this train. But I still don’t want to lose you.” — Katniss doesn't let Peeta walk away on the train tracks.

Word_Addict :: ao3, tumblr

Popular Fic: You Make Me Feel-Peeta and Katniss meet, not at the Reaping, but at a dance months later. Will they still find a spark, even without the Games to ignite it?

[thebroccolination]

SUPPORT ALL THE BE MY FAVORITE FIC PLEASE <3

I need everyone in the world to know that a friend of mine is writing a Witcher AU starring Kawi and Pisaeng from Be My Favorite and I’m reading an early draft of it on my lunch breaks and it’s become the best part of my day.

This thing is likely gonna be over 60k when it’s finished, and I’m really gonna need everyone in the world to leave kudos and comments on this fic when it’s done because my god she’s making an incredible piece of fiction and it’s so ludicrously charming. I don’t even play the Witcher games, I just casually watched the Netflix show and I don’t even think you need to have seen that to keep up. She’s just doing an incredible job.

I’m so happy our little time travel show is still attracting such incredible talented writers and such fun, exciting ideas in fanwork.

If you haven’t been keeping up with the AO3 tag obsessively like me:

Along with the stupefyingly, brilliantly executed genius of Mr. and Mrs. Smith AU Mr. and Mr. Jirawarakul (50k and one more chapter to go!!!) by Looorelai, there’s the nuanced The Long Way Home by saisei about the after-effects of Pisaeng’s time travel, and the punch-you-in-the-soul twist of Writing Ourselves on the Walls of our Future Hearts by Synergic.

Be My Favorite has had some incredible fics written for it.

If you loved the series and you’re missing it and KawiPi, I highly, highly encourage you to check out the tag or my bookmarks.

Tiny fandoms like BMF truly flourish when there’s warmth for them to grow by—or at least glow at a consistent rate. So when you read any fic ever and it makes you happy, please leave kudos and comments if you have the bandwidth. Especially if it’s old. Especially if the fandom seems tiny. It will mean more to them than you may realize; it may even mean the difference between that writer never writing in that fandom again and writing more.

An ember can start a fire.

Just as an example, I left a long comment recently on Clawed by daisydiversions in which Famous AU Kawi and Pisaeng (mostly Pisaeng) are battling a crane game in Japan, and the writer responded thus:

I thought, “Ooh, my screaming nonsense gave them a fic idea! That’s fun!”

Two days later, I had a notification in my inbox!!

And like! I get it! I wrote my 38k WinTeam fic Fireproof on the strength of my friend screaming at me after every chapter posted as well as the comments screaming even more. If I had been writing that on my own with no engaged readership, I would’ve gotten bored and unmotivated and given it up.

I’m not saying, “Leave comments in case the writers will write you fic.” I included that example as a, “Look what unbridled enthusiasm and active community spirit can inspire when we reach out to artists and tell them we appreciate what they created!”

It could inspire more fic, sure, but more importantly: it’ll make writers feel like we aren’t pantomiming for a silent, uninterested audience. That’s how fandoms survive for ten, twenty years. Or longer. Not just through love for canon.

We thrive because we show love for each other. Love for the stories and art we share with each other. Love for the community we’ve gathered.

Love is what brought us to fandom in the first place, after all. That’s where we excel. <3

A nice comment on a fic might be the difference between someone staying in fandom and leaving. You’re more influential than you know, and you can evoke incredible joy in people’s lives with a simple, “I loved this, thank you for sharing!”

[f1crecs]

Fic Rec List - Charles/Pierre (Rated E)

If your fic is on this list and you don’t want it to be, please let me know and I will remove it immediately, no questions asked. I have contacted most of the authors on this list, but sometimes people fall through the gaps - just pop me a message🤍

have a pairing you want me to do next? please read the faqs and then head to my inbox.

don’t forget to give the authors featured on this list some love in the form of kudos, bookmarks, and comments!

your wish is my command, ladies. 😘 fics highlighted in purple contain the 'super hung' content you were hoping for, @welightitup 😉❤️ all of these fics are nsfw. please check tags before you read.

this list doesn't contain even half of the fics I wanted to share. there will be a part two.

too far into the waters to float by @hungerpunch | E | 2k Charles and Pierre rendezvous after FP2. As well as being insanely hot, there is also a trust and a closeness here between these two that just feels so true, and so beautifully written. I love the way this author writes dialogue - it is always such a pleasure to read.

'He focuses on the mole under Charles' right eye, the one that kisses his undereye circles when he’s tired enough. And today, he’s tired enough. This is not il predestinato. This is just some guy. Some guy who is Pierre’s best friend, fatigued but red-blooded and eager for it—at least enough to send a text asking for it—and it's hot as fuck.'

darkest little paradise by heroics | E | 2k Charles and Pierre celebrate after Pierre's maiden win. Their dynamic here is some of my favourite Pierre/Charles in the whole fandom. They know each other inside and out, and know exactly what buttons to press, how far to take things, and what the other needs. The emotions here are just gorgeous. I loved every second of this.

'Pierre’s always been steady, reliable, happy for all of Charles’s successes. It’s a good thing he’s won today: anyone else and Charles would be livid. Monza is his to win; he deserves to be loved here.'

backseat freestyle by @grandprix-ao3 | E | 2.8k I have no way to summarise this that isn't going to get my blog flagged for mature content - please just read it! This author is an insta-rec for me. No one does sexual tension quite like they do. The imagery here is also absolutely stunning. I cannot recommend this one enough.

'It’d been a strange sensation to get used to; the feeling of empty hands, stretched-out patience, gum-thick and soaked in broken-off pleasure where it sits swollen in his chest, like a helium balloon ready to pop.'

in my ribs and under my chest.by @pipitwrites | E | 2.8k Charles and Pierre try something new. This is stunning. The author has a beautiful, almost melodic style, and combined with Pierre and Charles' clear devotion for each other and the insanely hot things they do to each other - this is a work of art. This fic is an ode to Charles' waist, and I loved every single second.

'"I already know what you look like naked," Pierre reminds him with a smirk and Charles flushes at the implication, which is stupid. They've been living out of each other's pockets since they were children, before Charles had ever considered what it might be like to be wrapped up in Pierre.'

Casabianca by @francophonesfictions | E | 3.1k Charles has had a bad day - they meet in a locker room. This fic made me insane. You can tell that they are just completely crazy about each other. This is blisteringly hot, and cut through with moments of just sheer literary genius. Gorgeous.

'Pierre is stubborn by default and relentless when he smells weakness, and Charles is one big weak spot where Pierre is concerned.'

all of me, all of me by @hourcat | E | 3.1k Charles and Pierre are reunited after two weeks apart. If you look up the word 'tenderhorny' in the dictionary, you'll find the entirety of this fic. This author is fantastic at balancing mind-blowing heat with honey sweet moments, and it results in just the most gorgeous fics. This author is another insta-rec for me.

'In truth, it's been maybe two weeks tops; it's an eternity, though, for the two of them, who spend half their season waiting for winter break just so they can get up inside each other without consequence.'

your love is thick and it swallowed me whole by @wolfiemcwolferson | E | 3.3k Pierre sees a photo of himself and Charles that changes everything. The Realisation Moment in this fic stole my breath away, and I'm not sure I returned to normal functioning until I reached the final line. Masterful. The urgency and the tension and the underlying need of it all - no one is doing it like this author.

'Because for just a second - a second - Charles had looked over at Pierre like he could see it. Like he could see the want all over Pierre’s face and if he sees it then...'

a place further by @yekoc | E | 3.9k Charles and Pierre don't fuck during the season. The relationship here is stunning - so easy and light and you can just tell that they are friends before they are lovers. So hot. So funny. So sweet. So well written. A joy!

'When the door stays stubbornly shut, Charles decides to try to pray. Like always, it’s in Italian: faith edged back up on him at Ferrari, but it’s still a half-formed thing, more hope than habit.'

get me with those green eyes, baby by @singsweetmelodies | E | 4.6k Charles and Pierre and Basketball Date 2.0. I love how much fun they have together in this - the flirty banter, the teasing, the absolute ease. This is ridiculously hot, but they are also quite clearly best friends, who know each other by heart. This is tender and sweet and a little bit soulmate-y. Chefs kiss.

'Charles' gaze softens, and a hint of brightest summer green returns to his eyes, a dapple of light against the darkness of desire there. "Always," he whispers, so softly that if Pierre hadn't been leaning right over him, their faces inches apart, he wouldn't have heard him.'

you should think about the consequence (of you touching my hand in the darkened room) by anonymous | E | 4.7k Charles has a business Zoom call - Pierre has other ideas. This is insanely hot. One thing I love about this author's fics is their Pierre characterisation: charming and quick witted and just absolutely besotted with Charles.

'Charles had done his best not to look over his shoulder, even though his every instinct had been screaming at him to do so. Whenever they were in a room together, his whole body instinctively wanted to turn and gravitate to Pierre. He couldn't help it.'

drugstore perfume by @grandprix-ao3 | E | 6.5k Charles stays at Pierre's house, and learns something new. You will need oven gloves (/mitts) to handle this fic. I think this was the first Pierre and Charles fic I ever read, and it restructured my brain in a way that cannot be reversed.

'But he doesn’t shut up; of course, he doesn’t. Perhaps this is something Charles has always known about Pierre, that he doesn’t know how to close his mouth, that he just grins and squints and leans forward against countertops with dewy skin and dangling necklaces like he owns the entire fucking world: like he knows everything he does will make Charles hot under the collar, like he wants to take advantage of it.'

[andavs]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @thekristen999

How many works do you have on ao3? 21

What's your total ao3 word count? 380,201

What fandoms do you write for? Working on some 911 that I haven’t actually posted yet, and Teen Wolf, which has shifted to the back burner because Eddie Diaz took over my brain.

Top five fics by kudos: A Crooked Way to Fly Tabula Rasa Gift Trapped From Ashes The Guard and Red

Do you respond to comments? I fully intend to. And then my inbox is full of comment notifications from six years ago. I'm sorry I know I suck!!!

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I don’t think I’ve written an angsty ending? 

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? All of them, I think.

Do you get hate on fics? Occasionally someone will say they didn’t like the ending of Tabula Rasa, but that’s it. And I get it.

Do you write smut? Nah. Once I found out that the actors had seen my art (for both Teen Wolf and 911), that fourth wall imploded in my mind and now it makes me too uncomfortable.

Craziest crossover: I haven’t done proper crossovers, but I did a Sterek Shrek AU one time that was unexpected.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of. Someone once took a sketch, colored it in, and reposted it as their OCs, but that’s the closest.

Have you ever had a fic translated? I think so? I know people have asked to translate them, but I never actually checked after.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? As in putting my own words in a doc, no. But @petals42 and I collaborated a lot with brainstorming and plotting, and then she did the writing and I did the art.

All time favourite ship? To write? Tied between Sterek and Buddie. But I also love Veronica and Logan from Veronica Mars, and John and Aeryn in Farscape, even though I’ve never wanted to write or really read fic for them.

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will? My Teen Wolf season one rewrite! Stiles is Derek’s age and a deputy, and he and Derek knew each other in high school. I still love it, it was just a monster and I haven’t been in that mode for a long time. I still have hope! I want to! If only for my own satisfaction.

What are your writing strengths? I’ve been told I’m pretty good at in character dialogue, at least with Stiles’ voice, and that’s the part I enjoy the most.

What are your writing weaknesses? Descriptions and like…actual, genuine emotions, I think. Whenever I try to write the heavier stuff, it feels way too melodramatic and then I cut it way back to the point where it’s basically gone.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language? If there’s plenty of context around it so you can get the gist of what they’re saying, then it’s okay. Like in Oceans how Yen never speaks a word of English, but everyone else’s responses tell you what he was saying. Otherwise I tend to prefer things like, “He said in Spanish,” or “They argued in Spanish for a minute.” 

First fandom you wrote in? Either Alex Rider or School of Rock. 😬

Favourite fic you've written? I still really like this outsider pov fic. I fucking love outsider pov. I have a 911 outsider pov that’s been mostly done for like two years, but then I realized the actual team isn’t in it enough to make people want to read it, so it's just kind of sitting there.

Tagging: @kitkatpancakestack @wellhalesbells @mad-madam-m @tawaifeddiediaz @cinematicnomad @zainclaw

[womenofthehouseofblack]

Claiming is open

Women of the House of Black Fest Prompts 2023

Welcome to the first ever, ‘Women of the House of Black fest,’ where we celebrate our faves from the wizarding world’s most notorious family.

Fest rules:

18+ only as this fest will contain adult content

All content is welcome! This includes (but isn’t limited to): fanfics, metas, moodboards, art, podfics, or anything you can think of.

All content must be centered around one of the Women of the Black family, this includes trans women.

This also includes female characters who have married into the family or been disowned.

PoC HCs are welcome.

Feel free to create Black family OCs

All ships and all eras are welcome, as well as gen fic (no ship), but we do ask that all ship content keeps the focus on the female characters. 

We allow adult and dark content- just make sure you include warnings and tag appropriately. This includes (but is not limited to) smut, violence, kinks, and Blackcest. 

This fest operates with a strict ‘ship and let ship,’ and ‘don’t like don’t read,’ policy. You not liking something is a YOU problem

Here is the Prompt list.

(and this is the longer link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1cKxXBtMKsaQYX4Aq4sTm50ADzbKyoCFKd8wqRE1Nb7M/edit?usp=sharing)

Claiming will take place between: Tuesday 28th February 2023 - Monday 10th April 2023 (this is the last deadline for submissions)

Posting begins: 21st April 2023

To claim a prompt, email:womenofthehouseofblackfest@gmail.com (this inbox will be checked twice a day)

FAQs

I finished my entry early. May I submit it early?

After you have finished your fic/art, you can upload it on the ao3 collection yourself (the link will be provided to you when you sign up).

Will you grant extensions?

Of course! If you find you need an extension, or even think you may need an extension, please email us.

I need to drop out. What do I do?

As with extensions, we realize things come up and sometimes you just can’t get an entry done. That’s life. If you find yourself in this position, just e-mail us 

All fic/art will be posted on ao3, and the header for the entries will be on tumblr.

[ellekhen]

43 and 17 😁😘

17. How obsessively do you sit and stare at your fic after you've just posted and wait for feedback?

Oof so this is where I make my confession — the answer is VERY obsessively.

I swipe to refresh for hours — between meetings, between gym reps, half-asleep in the middle of the night — checking to see if the kudos and views go up, and I get such a serotonin boost when I get comment notifications in my inbox. ^_^;

So yeah, I definitely experience also the opposite — getting bummed/down when there’s little engagement. I don’t want to say that to guilt anyone into validating me haha but I know it’s a fairly universal fic writer experience too! The AO3 subreddit has been a nice place to know I’m not alone in that. And it’s also something I’m working on for myself!

Honestly, as a newer author I feel so lucky to get any engagement at all! Especially after my very first fic was a long fic in a small fandom. Writing for BG3 been a very different experience for sure!

43. Talk about a positive experience with fanfiction or the fanfiction community that you will always remember.

I have felt really blessed to have had so many things to smile about — especially ever since rejoining tumblr. I wish I had done it sooner! I’ve found a little community here with readers, shout out especially to those I’ve gotten to chat and ramble with: @avashnea, @lumienyx, @the-cutest-deviant, @thetoastyurge, @agent-jaselin , and @kasumitanart.

I’m going to feel bad for missing anyone because I’m not confident about matching readers’ AO3 names to their tumblr names, but I’ve also been so grateful for @autumnlassitude, @grovyrosegirl, @chamtong, as well as a couple of the others listed earlier for so often leaving enthusiastic comments with every update.

If I didn’t mention you but you know you’re a recurring reader, it wasn’t intentional! Please introduce yourself in the comments so I know who you are! :D I wish I could thank you all individually. ❤️

One positive experience in particular was towards the beginning of my tumblr return when I decided to read a fic of a mutual, touch too much by @lumienyx.

I really loved it and it was the perfect comfort fic that I needed after some post-Mirror, mirror burnout (and generally a stressful week.) After I commented, they quickly replied so sweetly and enthusiastically, mentioning that Tipping the Scales was part of what inspired them to write the fic in the first place! I think I actually got teary-eyed to learn that someone not only loved what I wrote, but was inspired by it!

We then ended up chatting for hours (until like 3 or 4 AM my time haha) and I was just so excited to realize I had truly found my people on here.

So thank you, @lumienyx. :’) 💙 You were exactly who I needed to meet and chat with during the height of writing burnout!

(Thank you for asking, @the-cutest-deviant! ❤️)

[slutforstabbings-archive]

Clean Again

Chapter 3: WORST NIGHT OF THE YEAR read on AO3 | previous chapter | tumblr chapter index make sure to check AO3 for this fic's playlist and other extras!

The 1 year anniversary of Corey's little murder spree is coming...

general warnings for this fic - angst, fluff, eventual smut (MDNI), canon-typical violence, canon-typical gore contents/warnings for this chapter- angst, girls comparing themselves to each other ): sexual harassment, suicidal ideation, arson, alcohol consumption, violent assault (non-sexual), extremely mild spoilers for Carrie, The Shining, and Christine, victim blaming

5,546 words

@rebel-blue @heartrot666 @wolvesandvampires @cordelium @toxicanonymity @multifandom--mess @hersweetrevenge @futurewife @yllcm @ethanhoewke dm me or reply to this post to be added to the tag list 💕

Time flies. You realize with shock one day that it’s approaching a year since you moved home. You’re standing in your living room, sliding a record from its sleeve to place on the turntable. You just got a tiny easel from the dollar store to display the art for the album you’re currently playing, and you’re excited to put it to use. You pause with the vinyl halfway out. Tears burn your eyes and blur your vision. I like my life, you think. You shake your head and laugh to yourself. You have a job you love, you have friends who can be bothered to text you first, you kinda sorta run a little business. You’ve grown so much, been infused with new confidence and purpose. Coming back was a good idea. Maybe the best one you’ve ever had. You put the record on the turntable and push start. The music sounds so fucking good.

But like a vine that climbs a trellis, all your growth happens around something hard and unyielding. You don't think about Orin anymore, but you still feel the way he made you feel. You want to date, you want to hook up. Or at least, you think you do, you act like you do. There's no shortage of matches who want to take you out. You acquiesce to their vapid desires as long as you can stand it. But it always ends with a moment when you're sitting on their bed, or sitting in their car, or sitting at the bar with them thinking what the fuck am I doing here? Your inbox is a fridge full of food with nothing to eat. 

You’ve always known you were bisexual, but you’ve never gone out with a woman or a nonbinary person, so you take the chance to do so. Maybe suppressing your sapphic desire is the problem. You even hang out with Taryn once, thinking your acquaintanceship might give them a leg up. No such luck. You have the same problem regardless of gender. Everything is just a simulation, you’re watching from above, not really there. You come across as frigid and they don’t put in the effort to thaw you. Most of the dudes, and some of the girls too, just want a place to put their dick. They’re usually not interesting enough for you to provide it. On rare occasions you do, you never bring them to your apartment, where they might besmirch your sacred space. 

There is one guy you think could break the cycle. He’s become a bit of a local celebrity as a member of so many bands you can’t believe he has time to do anything else. You've been seeing him at shows for a while, from a distance, but when he stands next to you at the bar, oblivious to your presence as he tries to hail the bartender, it's the first time you fully notice him. He's the opposite of a Monet— nothing to look at from a distance, but gorgeous up close. You watch him for a week or two, gathering intel, making sure he passes the vibe check. He's such a frontman, even when he's in the back on bass, even when he's not on stage at all. Everyone you think is cool thinks he’s cool. How the fuck did it take you so long to see him?  

“What’s the deal with Hurley?” You ask Veronica after a show. Your love life feels like a joke when you talk to her about it. She's so hot and so confident and her suitors are so much more eligible than yours. You've been too embarrassed to ask her what she knows directly, but tonight you felt like he’d made an unusual amount of eye contact with you while he was on stage. You feel giddy for the first time in… Well, you can’t remember how long. 

“What do you mean?” She replies.

“Is he like… available?” You wiggle your eyebrows at her.

“Huh. I dunno. I don't know much about him at all but it seems like he’s been single forever. None of my friends have gone on a date with him,” she says. “Think I heard he’s divorced.” 

The news that he has baggage only serves to make you more interested. “I felt like he was looking at me a lot tonight.”

“Hey, who knows? Maybe you can be the one to get some water back in that old, dry hose.” Veronica says.

“You’re fucking disgusting,” you tell her, laughing.

Next show you go up to him before you leave. You hit him with the classic. “Great set tonight.” You try to say it in a sultry way, but you can’t take yourself seriously. It doesn’t matter that you have no game, because he does. He knows all the right things to say. You stay up late texting him every night leading up to your first date. You think you could really like him.

Until you don't. You’re not sure why, but after hanging out a couple times you feel your infatuation dissipate completely. You can’t pinpoint any specific thing he’s said or done, something just… changes. You go on a few more dates with him, the most dates you’ve gone on with anyone since you first met Orin. You try so hard to see what you saw at first, to get the giggles around him again. No luck. Sometimes you find out you’re just not compatible with people, and that’s fine, you tell yourself. God, it sucks though. 

You should break it off in some kind of official way. It’s not fair to him not to, you know it isn't. But he wants you, in a more serious, more real way than anyone else you've been seeing. He's interested in you. You're not merely a warm body to him. How can you bring yourself to close that door? You know it's wrong, but you distance yourself from him without explaining why, avoiding shows his bands play — a difficult feat since he’s in so many. 

“I can’t hang out Friday night, I have a huge pile of jackets to patch,” you tell him. “I can’t get drinks after work, I’m on my period and I just wanna go to bed.”

Never “I’m just not as interested in you as I thought I would be. I’m sorry.” You say it in your head all the time, every time you talk to him, every time he texts. Sometimes you type it out, edit the message over and over, highlight it all and delete it. As long as you don't say it's over, there's still a chance that the spark could come back. Then he goes on tour with one of his bands and you're relieved things are gonna come to natural end, all on their own. He’ll forget about you while he’s gone, he’ll have so much fun that he’ll realize having something steady at home would just hinder him in this phase of his career. You think you’re off the hook when he doesn’t text you the whole time he’s gone. But the day he gets home, he calls.

You agree to meet up with him. At a coffee shop, not a bar, in the afternoon, not at night. He’s already sitting down with his drink when you get there. You don’t order anything, you just join him at his table in the back corner. 

“I missed you,” he says. 

You don’t meet his eyes. “It’s not working out,” you tell the table.

“What?”

“I think you’re cool. I like your bands. I want to like you as more than a friend, and I’ve tried to. But I just don’t think we fit like that.” You finally get the courage to look at him.

“What did I do?” He asks quietly.

“Nothing! You didn’t do anything, we’re just not quite right for each other.” 

He doesn’t say anything. He just nods. You don’t know what that means, but you hope he understands.

“I’m sorry,” you say, rising from your seat. You leave without looking back.

After that, you take a break from dating. You delete all the apps. The whole experience is so daunting. You’d much rather focus on the things about your life that you love, but Hurley makes it difficult. It’s like he only selectively remembers you breaking things off. Sometimes he ignores you, or pretends to. Other times he’s in your face, trying to put his arm around you, reaching for your hand before you snatch it away. Veronica makes a new friend, a girl who knows Hurley's ex-wife. Apparently he stayed a problem for her until he met you. Shit. You rack your brain, hoping to come up with a plan to finally get him to fuck off, but you don't want him to escalate and you don't want to make any enemies. He’s so entwined with the scene. A scene you can’t separate yourself from because of your job. A job you really love. You’re thankful he’s on the road so much, always having to leave just before you reach your breaking point with him.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Every day of Corey’s life is exactly the same. He knows what day of the week it is, so he knows his work schedule, but the months and the seasons escape his notice, especially in this climate where it gets hot so early and stays hot so late. The leaves on the trees take forever to turn orange and blanket the sidewalks. If he’d been paying more attention, he would have been filled with dread and hatred, steadily increasing over the end of the summer as Halloween approached. But he doesn’t notice until the week before, when the skeletons and bats made of paper appear on the walls of the front office. The owner’s daughter uses a magic marker to draw faces on tiny pumpkins and places them on the counter. Their silly cheerfulness mocks him.

“My wife’s insisting on a Halloween party, everyone’s invited,” he overhears the next day as he walks past the break room.

"What's the name of the movie with that psycho with the mask? Based on a true story? There's like, eight of 'em?" Someone in the customer lounge asks. "Stab?" Someone else supplies.

“Yo Carpenter, what’re you gonna be for Halloween?” A muffled voice comes to Corey as he hangs his upper body into a car’s engine compartment. “Comin’ up next week.”

He scowls. Fucking Halloween. The worst day of his life, twice. When his coworker wanders off he extracts himself from the car and wipes his hands on a shop rag so covered in grease it just makes his fingers blacker. His nostrils flare at the smell of burnt coffee as he stomps to Will’s office.

“Give me Halloween off, and I’ll work Thanksgiving. And Christmas,” he says.

“What's so special about Halloween, Carpenter? You know we ain’t open on Thanksgiving or Christmas,” his boss says.

“Day before, day after, whatever. The days the guys with families don’t want.”

“You don’t got no family?” Will asks. He knows Corey doesn’t. He’s never seen a scrap of evidence that his most surly employee has even one friend, let alone a spouse, a child, or a good relationship with his parents. He feels bad for the kid, but he also can’t help but find it a little funny to get a rise out of him. Corey doesn’t answer the question. He clenches his jaw and his fists the way he always does when a conversation goes on too long for his liking.

“Alright, it’s a deal,” Will says once he’s made Corey squirm enough.

On Halloween he wakes up agitated, the darkness that’s always inside him swirling, rising higher like the tide coming in. All morning he’s plagued by visions of what must have happened last year. The last thing he remembers clearly is Allyson above him, crying. Everything after is hazy, and out of order, like listening to someone else recount a dream, all the way up until the night he heard the nurses talking about him in the hallway. But he’s sure Michael was there, at Laurie’s house, certain he looked up and saw Michael’s ugly face looming over him. Stupid Laurie, emptying her gun into the wall, wasting her best bet. She called 911 before Michael got there, but all Corey can assume that did is led more lambs to the slaughter.

Fucking Laurie. Why couldn’t she just let him get his ass kicked in peace? Everything that happened to him last year, everything bad in Haddonfield, it was all her goddamn fault. Now he’s alive, bearing the weight of everything he’s done, hiding like a coward, fighting the part of him that can never be buried deep enough again after it was dug up in the sewers. If she'd let Allyson go everything would have been okay. Allyson would be here with him, alive. Instead, they're both surely dead. Did you really think I'd kill myself? she asked him. Well it turns out she did. Laurie orchestrated a murder-suicide, Michael was just the weapon.

Corey opens a new pack of cigarettes and flips the one in the top left corner upside down. A lucky cig for the most unlucky asshole in the world. He strikes a match and lights up, letting the flame creep down until he reflexively shakes it out so it doesn’t burn him. Then another match, then another. Daring himself to let the flame get closer to his fingers, or to drop the match to the mattress where he sits, cross legged. He imagines the flames engulfing the apartment in mere minutes, the gas and the electronics in the garage downstairs exploding, fire ravaging the whole street. He pictures his skin searing and cracking in the heat, before being ripped to shreds by the shrapnel generated from the vintage toasters and antique clocks he tinkers with. 

When that fantasy doesn’t satisfy him anymore, he dresses and leaves his crummy apartment. He doesn’t take the stairs down. Instead he straddles the rickety railing around his tiny porch, then swings his other leg over, so his toes are just barely resting on the sliver of wood that extends beyond it. He leans back, holding onto the posts, getting splinters from the rotten wood as he hangs over the ground. Falling seems to be a common theme in his life. Always slamming into the ground, but never with enough force to break him the way he wanted it to, the way it broke Jeremy.

Before he can let go, he hears a loud crack. One of the posts fractures, then with another sound like a small explosive, it snaps entirely. He slips, thudding to the ground with the shattered piece of wood still in one hand. 

It knocks the air out of his lungs and he lays there winded for a moment. Pain shoots through his bad shoulder and he lets it take over all his senses, experiencing the fleeting agony as fully as he can. When it subsides he stands. Corey chucks the broken post back up onto his porch before mounting his motorcycle and speeding away.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

You stand in Veronica’s front yard with your arms outstretched, head tilted back slightly, eyes closed. Veronica climbs the three steps of a short ladder, apron tied over her dress, jug of fake blood in her hands. You hold your breath and Harker films on his phone as she slowly dumps the blood over your head, completing your Carrie costume. 

You stay outside, dripping excess blood onto the grass while Veronica puts away her apron and the ladder.

“Don’t forget your baseball bat!” You shout after her. Her Wendy Torrence is good enough for people to get her costume without it, and she honestly just looks kind of like her. But she was so excited about the bat when she found it at the thrift store, short enough to carry around all night, solid wood and unadorned like the one from the movie. You want to make sure she has it.

Everyone from work is going on a bar crawl as Stephen King characters. You as Carrie, Veronica as Wendy, the new girl and her boyfriend as the Grady Twins. An Annie from Misery, a Victor from Pet Cemetery, the possessed cop from Desperation, a Cujo and a Christine. When everyone picked characters, Christine was a choice no one else had the guts to go for, so you can’t wait to see what Drew does with it. Rose just picked Cujo because she’s a furry.

Harker’s too young to partake, so he’s designated driver for you two in his ridiculous truck. You’ve been banished to the bed to keep corn syrup off his precious custom interior, so Veronica scrambles over the tailgate and into the bed with you. As you roll through town everyone hoots and hollers at the ostentatious truck with two pretty girls in the back. A group of trick or treaters signal for Harker to honk and he lays on the horn to their extreme delight. 

Your coworkers slowly trickle into the first bar on the itinerary. Drew’s Christine costume turns out to be a car he made out of cardboard, hanging from his shoulders by suspenders. It’s pretty cool, and genuinely impressive that he was able to make it himself. But he looks like he’s in Christine rather than that he is Christine and everyone gives him a good natured ribbing. 

“Dude, you were supposed to be the car, not the driver!”

“The car literally doesn’t even need a driver. You’re the driver of a self-driving car.”

“You could’ve at least dressed like Arnie, you know, the guy who does drive the car.”

“No! I’m wearing all black, so it’s like I’m not even here,” he defends. “Y’all wouldn’t have even tried this costume.” Everyone has to concede to that.

The group gathers around to take the bar’s special Halloween shot, a bubbling lime green thing in a wide plastic cup. It’s surprisingly tasty for a split second before it ignites your throat and sinuses. Someone puts some goofy 60’s novelty song on the jukebox. It’s silly but it kind of slaps, and you find yourself dancing with your boss in his Annie Wilkes drag.

When everyone agrees to move onto the next stop, you take the lead, walking at the front of the group. As you step off the curb to cross the street towards bar number two, a motorcycle speeds by so fast your blood matted hair blows back. If you’d been just a little farther into the street you would have been a goner. The whole group yells after the biker, calling him an asshole and flipping him off. He doesn't seem to notice at all.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Corey spends most of the day on his motorcycle, riding around, leaving the confines of the small city and flying down winding country roads. Cows and horses ignore him as he jets past pasture and paddock. His back hurts from the fall he took and from hunching low over the handlebars to make himself more aerodynamic. His knuckles are stiff from gripping the handlebars. He refuses to let that stop him. He has to keep moving. If he stays still the violence will catch up. As long as he’s blasting around curves, pushing the bike and his reaction times to the limit, he can make it through.

As the sun starts to dip below the horizon, Corey’s fuel gauge drops below a quarter, then below an eighth. He knows he can’t make it much further. The timing is terrible, he’s going to ride back into town just as the trick or treaters come out, when the whole world will be on the streets. God damnit, god fucking damnit. He should’ve planned this better, this is the worst way it could have happened. His anger at himself just fuels the swirling blackness in his heart. 

As he comes back into town he tries to ride where he knows no one will be, but he can’t avoid a few crowded streets. He zips down them, trying not to see the merriment happening around him. He winds up down a road he’s familiar with. It takes him a second and then he realizes, this is where he’d squatted. Just half a year ago, the whole neighborhood was condemned houses. But progress marches on and now several of the houses are being renovated. Giant dumpsters are parked in front lawns, jutting out into the street. This or that house is surrounded by a temporary fence, the name of a developer or realtor on the sign hanging from the chainlink. 

No one is around. All the contractors have gone home for the night and none of the houses are finished enough for anyone to live on this block yet. He checks for cameras as he rolls slowly down the road. He can only see one house that seems to be under surveillance. Luckily the cameras are old, he can tell by the shape of them that the footage is probably being stored somewhere in the house instead of on the cloud. Excellent. 

He pulls his bike back behind the house in case someone comes by. He picks up a stray 2x4 on the ground and, raising it over his head, slams it into the nearest camera. Corey moves around the property, crushing plastic and cracking lenses until every camera is destroyed and the 2x4 is reduced to a battered toothpick. On one side the house is just framing, stripped down to the studs due to water damage. He slips through the gaps between posts.

He stalks from room to room, looking for the monitor and recorder the cameras were hooked to. He finds it in the closet of the master bedroom. The system must be at least as old as he is, with a VCR and a tube-type TV. If he could bring them with him he could sell them, blending in seamlessly with all the other old school electronics that pass through his hands. But he couldn’t ride with a TV like that in his lap, so he picks it up, yanking the power cord out of the wall, and hurls it at the floor. He ejects the tape and unspools huge ribbons from it before pitching it at the wall as hard as he can. It leaves a dent on impact and little pieces of plastic fly through the air. 

The bathroom floor is stacked with boxes of greenish gray ceramic tiles. He tears a box open and flings them one by one to the floor where they practically explode on impact, sand and shards spraying everywhere. Corey breaks two whole boxes of tiles before catching sight of himself in the mirror. His face is mostly obscured, only illuminated by the thin light of the street lamps filtering in. For a moment in the low light it doesn’t look like his face at all, but a skull, hollow sockets where his eyes should be. As he stares the image becomes Michael’s mask before finally transforming back into his face. He realizes the mirror isn’t mounted yet and grabs it. Seven years of bad luck as he swings it against the wall. He’s already had 25 years of bad luck, why the fuck should he care?

He terrorizes every room, kicking the walls and destroying any supplies left around. He finds a box of nails and tacks and pours them all onto the floor. It takes Herculean effort to resist the impulse to bring his foot down on them, knowing the longest ones would more than penetrate the worn-out sole of his shoe. He doesn’t know how much time passes before, covered in cuts and scrapes from the carnage, sweating and completely exhausted, he gives the house a break. But the reprieve is only temporary. He stands in the center of the living room with a pile of cardboard, paper, and drywall. He lights a cigarette. Then Corey holds the match to a piece of paper at the bottom of the pile until it catches. 

He watches the pile ignite, then goes outside. Retrieving the splintered remains of the 2x4 he destroyed the cameras with and using it like a broom, he covers his footprints and tire marks in the dusty yard. As he rides off in search of a gas station his only regret is that he can’t stay to watch the whole thing be consumed by flames.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

You’re on the dance floor with your coworkers at bar number 4, a club called The Club. You’ve been pacing yourself so you can straddle the line between buzzed and drunk, the intoxication sweet spot. You wave Veronica's baseball bat around in front of you as you dance, holding it for her while she and Rose are in the bathroom. You feel a hand on the small of your back and stiffen, scared. A mouth appears near your ear and shouts your name over the thumping music. The voice is thick and slurring and warped by the shout, but you recognize it instantly. Hurley. You can’t ever just have a nice night out. 

He’s saying something to you but you can’t understand him over the music. He slides his hand from your back to your stomach and pulls you backwards against him. You feel the anger you’ve stuffed down every time he’s called you to ask you for dinner even tho he knows you’ll say no, every time he’s casually draped his arm around your shoulders while you nearly fell out of your seat trying to get further away from him, every time you see one of his bands on a show flier and decide not to go out that night. 

But that’s not all of your anger, no, not nearly. Bubbling to the surface is everything you suppressed about Orin, the way you would only let yourself feel once or twice, when you imagined wrecking the house you’d shared, or showing up wherever he was to make a scene. I hate to bug you in the middle of dinner. And then there’s the fury you feel towards yourself. For not leaving Orin when you first got the sense that things were failing, when he was first mean to you for no reason. For not rejecting Hurley swiftly and soundly when you knew it wouldn’t work out. For letting these things happen to yourself. For being such a goddamn doormat. You see red, vibrating, totally unable to think rationally. 

If Veronica or Rose were out here, they’d intervene. He wouldn’t have even been able to walk up to you, Veronica’s gotten so good at putting herself between you two. But the line for the bathroom is long, no telling how long they'll be gone. None of the rest of your coworkers know any details about you and Hurley. You’ve tried to keep things from them for the most part. You know they would support you but you try not to involve yourself in scene politics, a discussion that’s unavoidable with someone as prominent as he is. They know you’ve gone on dates with him, maybe, but they don’t know that he’s been bothering you for months since.

With the hand not holding Veronica’s bat you grab his fingers from your stomach and rotate your wrist. You don’t think about it. It’s instinctive, automatic. One hard twist downwards. You feel something in his hand pop, a plasticky feeling click, like the knee in a Barbie doll leg. Still holding his busted fingers you spin around. The drugs and alcohol in his system protect him from the pain of the damage you did to his hand, and he laughs. 

“How long's it been since we danced?” He slurs. 

You feel small inside yourself, watching a movie instead of seeing through your own eyes as you raise Veronica’s bat. The other people on the dance floor are absorbed in the music or their own conversations. No one notices as you hold the bat aloft, preparing. Then you bring it down on him, hard. It makes a horrible cracking, crunching sound as it collides with his nose. Real blood spurts from his face, landing on your dress to mingle with the fake blood, and he drops to his knees. His fingers pull from your hand as he falls, bending unnaturally. 

You stand there, stunned and shaking, as people around you start to realize what happened. Veronica is suddenly by your side, guiding you toward the door. You emerge into the clammy air of the club’s patio and the change in atmosphere brings you to your senses. You take giant, panicked breaths and tears stream down your face, rewetting the fake blood caked on your cheeks. Veronica calls Harker, barking for him to come get you two, now. She shepherds you to the parking lot, shushing comfortingly, as people pour onto the patio to try to talk to you. Harker’s giant truck screeches to a halt beside the club. He wasn’t far away and Veronica’s tone made him worry. You hoist yourself into the truck bed and you feel the lurch of the truck accelerating just as you see the bouncer come outside to look for you. 

You take the next couple days off work. News reports come out of mischief that happened Halloween night. Other fights in other bars. Vandalism, theft. Three empty houses in a neighborhood undergoing revitalization burned to the ground and the cops have no suspects. You wait with baited breath to hear bad news that hits closer to home. That Hurley or The Club are pressing charges, that you’ve been banned from The Club for life. That you’ve been fired for turning violent in front of your boss. That your reputation in the scene is ruined for what you did to the city’s biggest star. But there is no bomb that drops. 

There’s tension, certainly, but your life does not crater. When Veronica whisked you away, Rose took initiative as the only other person at Plymouth Records who knew what you’d been going through to do damage control. She did such a good job you feel like she missed her calling as a celebrity publicist or a defense attorney. If anyone at work isn’t on your side, they keep it to themselves.

That doesn't mean you don't get sucked into the scene politics conversations you’d tried so hard to avoid. Most people aren’t upset about what you did to Hurley, they’re upset that you didn’t do or say anything about him sooner, allowing him to stay in the scene, even knowing he would behave like that. Knowing that if another girl in your community dated him, he would probably be a creep to her too. 

You don’t fault the people that feel that way. It’s something that crossed your mind every time someone asked how things were going with him and you clenched your teeth and gave a noncommittal answer. But you’d been waiting, hoping soon all his touring would finally lead him into a record deal, or make him move to NYC or LA to pursue one. Where he would be too far away for you to do anything about, and too busy to do it to someone else. 

There are some people though — his closest friends, people who’d envied you when you started dating him — who are furious with you for what you did. Fractured three fingers on his right hand and fucked up the connective tissue, broke his nose. You jeopardized his future, you hear them saying. You potentially ruined up the most important thing in his life. Who knows how long it’ll be before he can play instruments again. His broken nose has altered the quality of his voice, and the doctors aren’t sure if it’ll go back to normal. He doesn’t have insurance, and you knew that. 

You try to feel bad, but after you get over the initial shock, you just… don’t. Not about hurting him. Not about his future. If he didn’t want broken fingers he shouldn’t have grabbed someone who’s told him no 100 times. You watch revenge movies and feel like the protagonist, soaking in the catharsis. Something in you feels like it woke up from a long sleep. To keep yourself from driving to Atlanta and fucking Orin up like you’d tried so hard not to think about doing, you put on another film. New ones, old ones, good ones, bad ones. It doesn’t matter as long as someone other than you can quench your thirst for blood. 

Carrie in particular is significant to you. You feel a little silly but it’s almost spiritual for you that you were dressed as her when it happened. You watch all three versions repeatedly. You go to the library and get the book, then buy it when you’ve renewed it too many times. You worry about people’s reaction for only a second when you email a tattoo artist to get a portrait of Carrie done. You need to calm down, to put the pin back in the grenade. But you never want to forget any of it either. You never want to forget to quit being such a goddamn doormat.

end note: Just so there's no confusion about canon compliance lol, Allyson and Laurie are not actually dead in this universe. Someone just assumes they are because that's the first assumption his contused and drug addled little brain came up with and he has no motivation to interrogate that assumption.

[sushis-brainrot]

That sounds interesting …. what kind of ideas for Basim and Eivor? And that’s alright if you ever did write it when you have time I would love to hear it and read it!

I was also a bit shy at first since my ship wasn’t popular either but once I submitted it I realised how silly and wrong I was, the community is absolutely amazing. I’ve met so many nice people through fanfiction and even made a few friends here and there. You’ll find there’s nothing to be afraid of.

The Valhalla and Odyssey community on fanfiction are absolutely amazing. As for recommendations out of all your ships I only know one (Which is Kassidas) I might inbox you privately about it. And lol there’s a chance you might have seen my fics as well since I’m on A03.

What is your username? If you don’t mind sharing it out with us. So I can keep an eye out if you do post fics. I might even add you as well on there. If you don’t mind .

I don't mind at all! :D I go by Risushi on AO3 :D But you have me much intrigued as to which fics you might have written👀

As for ideas, at the moment, I have two for some Eivor/Basim stuff 🫣 Now it remains to be seen if I ever get to write them....... 😶

Celebration Mostly fluff, maybe smut... with a drizzle of sad 🥺

During a feast in Raventhorpe sometime after The Siege of Portcestre - maybe during Yule or Ostara. Eivor finds Basim observing the celebrations and takes it upon herself to make him join the revelry. Eivor, drunk on festivities and sweetest mead, miraculously manages to convince the master assassin to join her and the clan for a dance.

The night continues its celebrations - Basim lets some of his walls drop and surprisingly enjoys himself. They talk, they bond. Basim pokes some fun at Eivor. At some point, she kisses him, to shut him up. Smirking she pulls away, "Do you taste my heart, sly-tongue? Is the taste enough to sate your hunger or does it leave you craving more?"

Basim seizes the unspoken invitation, claiming her lips with a hunger akin to a man starved.

Eventually, it ends on Eivor, lost in thought at Gunnar and Brigid's wedding. With heart aching, she finds herself wishing Basim was there.

Fates of Two Sometime around 861-865 - before Valhalla and during Mirage. Based heavily on a "what if" scenario. Young Basim is such a sweetheart, and I couldn't help but wonder what it might be like if he and Eivor met during Mirage.

Baghdad. Basim is a newly initiated assassin - Eivor a thrall from the North, whom Basim is tasked with freeing, and then protecting.

Eivor holds his gaze, "If you're willing to stand with me, I won't turn you away. For now." Basim answered with a smile that touched his eyes. "For now," he agreed.

Basim has no idea why Roshan wants him to guard Eivor - as the Norse seems perfectly capable of defending herself - but for now, he doesn't question his mentor.

As the assassin tasked to protect Eivor from harm, it seems like Basim continuously gets her in trouble instead.

Sometimes, Basim finds himself trying to impress her, swinging his sword with an added flair. Flashing her a grin before disappearing into a crowd. Stealing sweet apples for her just to see a glimpse of her smile. Sometimes it gets him caught.

He grabs her hand, vaulting over walls and running over rooftops, never letting go as he guides her.

Eivor laughs. Loud and free. And suddenly, it's all worth it to him.

I have a few ideas for where this one could go, but I haven't gotten to work a whole lot on them, yet 😜

I've come to realize though, that this one, on some points, can sound a little like @newengland-shrike / TheAmberOuroboros' Past Voices Call My Name/No Quiet Life for Me, so I want to check with them if it'd be okay for me to write it before I do anything 😌

But, until then, it has a little mood board that makes me very happy 🥺

[new-lorien-artist]

hey there, not to provide interaction for a post i’m sure you wanted people to interact w/ — feel free to ignore if this is the case.

as a fic writer who fears dying from health problems or from my parents maybe killing me if they find out i’m queer (it’s a bit of an irrational fear but also not,,, anyways), i feel you w/ that post. not completely, but a lot.

first off — something that may help ease your anxieties about people online knowing what’s happened to you. ao3 has something called ‘next of kin’ that you can set up with a close friend if you happen to die. ao3 will give them access to your account in that case (don’t ask me how they determine if you’re dead or not — they do have a process, i just can’t remember it rn). i have a friend of mine on ao3 who’s set up as my next of kin. if she doesn’t hear from me in a long long time, because we talk often, she’ll email ao3 and ask them for this access to my account. i don’t want any of my works altered. i just want her to add a little note that says smth like ‘hey, check out the writer’s profile’ in the endnotes of all my fics, and i want her to put a short message in that ao3 profile that says something about the fact that i am dead now, but i loved my time in fandom, and the people i met through it.

maybe you can set this up too, if you want to. it eased some of my anxieties about being gone and no one online knowing — my tumblr friends do have my ao3, and check it sometimes, so i know they’d eventually find out. it’s not perfect but it’s helped me.

also as someone who also writes in fandoms that don’t get much traction i also know what you mean by that, kind of. it’s hard. you love creating but also feel responsibility for like, being the one to create. and it’s a weird place to be in but one that doesn’t an easy fix. i deal with it by spending time offline, but that’s only made me ignore the problem, not deal with it head on. i wish i could offer better advice but i can say that while i do love your blog, i care for your well-being more than anything you could ever create. and i know that internalising this sorta thing can be hard sometimes, and that’s fine — i’m just leaving it here.

as for the real life stuff, like schoolwork and graduation, i unfortunately don’t have much experience with that and so can’t offer much in the way of that. if you have support networks offline you’ll probably already be using them, you probably do all you can offline to try and stay happy. it sounds like you’re in a lot of pain — in many ways — and i guess i’d just say to, if you haven’t already though you probably have, try to alleviate as much of it as you can whilst still living the life you want. if you’re not sure what you want, although you may be, try and think of it. it can be horrifically hard when in pain, i know.

i don’t know. advice varies widely on the experiences of the giver and the circumstances of the receiver, so there is a good chance that most of this will not be what you need to hear. and i do apologise for that; i’m not trying to be a douche, i promise, and i’m not trying to make assumptions about you and i’m not usually the kind of person to into someone’s inbox unsolicited and talk about this.

i just know how awful it is to be in pain, physically and mentally, and i just wanted to say that i hope it gets better for you, i hope you’re able to move through the world as best as you can. pain is so unspeakably terrible. not knowing, or regret, is too. i know. i’m sending you a virtual… thing of… the things you like (i’m not someone w/ a lot of eloquent words). want the best for you bc you are a person ofc, but also because you’ve made my day brighter so many a time with the words or pictures you put out into the world.

i hope that you’re doing okay, or will be, is what i’m trying to say, i guess. :)

This was sent a while ago and I apologize for the late reply, but first off I'm really thankful for the kind words and the advice. I kept this in my inbox reading over again and again, and I hope this response feels just because this ask means a lot and I'm so so grateful for your words. It's definitely easing me a bit. I don't mind it at all that you sent this

I do have an AO3 though it's mostly used to bookmark some of my favorite fics (many that I've yet to give my proper due in comments to). It's nice that the site has that feature, so what I can do is translate some of my works and WIPs into fanfic and put those there, and possibly the next of kin feature may be of use

I have a lot more illustrative works than written that are in the plans, which I think I'll just put into a Google Drive or something and share that, so any other artists in the fandom can take a look at them and draw them out. A ton of the ideas I have are very conceptual and abstract (they deal with a lot of headcanons, interpretations from the books, and relationships between the characters the way I see them), and I'm not sure how much of them will translate to others to get the idea across, so I'm working on gathering as much reference material and notes as I can if it's really important. I'm not about about credit, but I think just tagging this blog when using an incomplete WIP will suffice

As for the responsibility for a fandom stuff, I came to a conclusion a few years ago to just enjoy the fandom while it lasts and be more celebratory of the people I'm surrounded by and being able to share a mutual love for the piece of media that brought us together in the first place. My opinion then was that fandom, however small it is, shouldn't be a burden even though it weighed my heart to see something that has given so much to me feel like it was crumbling away. Rather, the friends you make, the days spent creating and enjoying and arguing and dreaming with people you look forward to talk to every day, even if you might be miles apart and will never see face to face, they're central to fandom and are what make creative works so much more amazing and beautiful and loving. I made so so many friends in the fandom from rps to group chats to discord servers, and even some irl, and have let them know on multiple occasions how much they matter to me, and have learned how much they cared about me as well, and that eased my heart at the time. If I had all the time in the world, I would reread their fanfics over and over and look over the small details they knitted into the stories and tell them how much I love their works, and how happy I am to have met them

Note this was my opinion a few years ago, and a lot has changed (many of the same people I used to talk to, I haven't seen since, both irl and online, and these days I don't know most people in the fandom anymore and have very little time to socialize), I ran the whole 13yearsoflorien celebration in hopes to make a community revival and for people to make friends here (which was an incredibly draining process but im thankful it's been done and that @/thedumpsterwizard could help me with it) and ofc my offline life is very tied up with school, so things have been a bit harrowing lately. Needless to say, I think the opinion I formed years ago still rings true, and I'd like to reconsider those words again. I don't know if those same words are helpful to you, but I hope the burden you feel on fandom creativity eases.

Again, I'm so so thankful for this ask, I apologize if I've made you worry about sending this ask whether it had unsolicited advice or felt rude. I appreciate you reaching out, and though it's true advice may vary wildly between the sender and receiver, I think for this I'm sending my gratitude that a lot of this felt helpful and touching, and for your kindness as well. I'm sending my deepest condolences for your situation and health fears, and the physical and mental and emotional strain it all puts on you. I'm glad you take the offline time to ease yourself, and that you have a friend you speak to frequently and who you trust with your work. I know I spent a greater part of this message responding to your words, but I hope what I say here eases you as well, and I reach out in hopes you find this answer and find some relief from it. I wish for the both of us to see better and kinder days and that we will make it through all this soon, and that our fears will stay just fears and won't get the better of us. And that our health will be good too

Please take care, and thank you again for this message