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randomfoggytiger · 1 month

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Collector's Edition: Bill Scully, MSR, and Pain (Part I)

How to melt the Abominable SnowBilly, Season 2 through Season 7 (IVF arc not included.)

**Note**: I had to eliminate fics not specifically related to an illness or injury because the word capacity on Tumblr is uncharitably short.

Loose chronological order below~

SammyLovesASOIAF's I Don't Want You Like A Best Friend

He chuckled to himself. The Scully siblings were a weird juxtaposition of different traits. Bill Jr. was strict, Melissa was carefree, Scully was careful, and Charles—well, he was always in absentia.

AU-- Post One Breath Mulder is almost creamed by a firework before Bill Scully saves him.

@living-in-unreality/@television-overload/ContentsPriceless's beautiful (Ao3)

The pieces slowly come together in his mind, everything he knows about Fox Mulder. His mother must have seen it long ago, hence her willingness to help him this morning. And he would have stood in the way.

Bill Scully can see the love in Mulder's attempts to paint on Scully's makeup for her.

MldrItsMe's A Favor

“Should Dana be out of bed?” Bill grumbled.

Mulder involuntarily squeezed Scully a little closer to himself. “She asked me to,” he said. He thought better of adding “hold her” and just let the situation speak for itself.

AU-- Redux II Scully is suffering on her deathbed: 96 pounds and swiftly losing independence.

@scully-loves-ruthie's cancer arc: mulder sneaks a dying scully out

Bill will storm into her hospital room after, a firecracker beneath a teacup ready to explode sending the fine shards of his rage into the newlyweds. He’ll find himself frozen his fuse stamped out at the sight of his sister’s frail and fading body wrapped like a puzzle piece inside Mulder’s arms, the couple sound asleep.

AU-- Redux II Bill doesn't rip Mulder's head off after finding out he and Scully were quickly married.

intrepidment's Bill and me

"You had talent for medicine, Dana, everyone admitted that. You would've had every right to be haughty, but you never flaunted your talent then. Then you changed your mind, you became an investigator, and suddenly you're this overconfident professional."

I opened my mouth to rebuke him, but I had to admit he was right. Somewhat.

Post Redux II Bill and Scully have a siblings' semantics fight over Mulder's napping body.

amorfati3215/Amorfati32’s (FFN) Number 9 for the dialogue prompt.

Mulder hasn’t got very far when he hears Bill call out, stopping him in his tracks. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

Post Redux II Bill gives Mulder his version of a blessing.

@lotsoforangesoutside/@lotzzoforangezoutside‘s (Ao3) Seven Pound and Six Ounces (Ao3)

He’s never held a day-old baby before this one.

And now, Fox Mulder can proudly say that he has held one, changed his diaper, and napped with the tiny thing like a log in the cradle of his arm.

With his other arm held by one Dana Scully, his hand holding hers. On the sofa in her big brother’s living room.

Post Emily Bill lets Mulder and Scully be.

soverysesual's The Truth Not Considered

He frowned as he observed the scene in front of him: his sister was sitting up, her head resting in an awkward position as she dozed, the mug of tea precariously balanced in one of her hands, while Mulder held her other hand grasped between both of his, as if he was clinging to her for dear life.

Post Emily Bill (reluctantly) helps Scully get comfy next to Mulder.

Marguerite's (Ao3) When the Bough Broke

Bill is standing between us and the embers of last night's fire. Scully has not stirred; I still keep her within the circle of my arms. Her brother's face is unreadable. I make a helpless gesture with my hand, but he stops me and points to my face. It's still wet with tears.

Post Emily Bill finally understands and becomes comrade-in-arms.

pen-paper-aliens/theficisoutthere/aka PPA's 95 ❤️

She’s still holding that hand when we walk in, nobody notices, or if they do, they don’t care. Bill notices too, but even he doesn’t say anything. What do you say to a mother who lost a child she never knew?

AU-- Post Emily Bill lets his sister find comfort in her partner.

Jen's (mulderscreek)

Christmas Eve & Airports and Christmas & Mrs. Scully's House

"He's upstairs," Dana said and could swear she heard Bill mutter something under his breath.

AU-- S6 Scully convinces Mulder to join her and her family for Christmas and ends up nursing his unexpected strep throat.

@baronessblixen‘s (Ao3)

Christmas With The Scullys (Tumblr)

“My bed,” she says, just to clarify. She hears a clatter from behind her and doesn’t need to turn around to know that Bill is there and listening.

S7 Bill and Scully battle it out after she brings an injured Mulder to the Scully family Christmas party.

O Holy No - Chapter 7 (Tumblr)

“Where’s the guy?” he asks, chewing with his mouth open.

“Do you mean Mulder?” Her brother nods, stuffing more chips into his mouth. It reminds her of when they were teenagers and Bill, towering over her and Melissa, would steal their snacks and interrogate them, claiming it was his duty when their father wasn’t home.

AU-- Mulder and Scully, newly minted couple that they are, both fly out to Bill's house for Christmas... and are greeted with unexpected shenanigans.

Shoshana's

Almost Home (4/4)

"Hey, wife," he said, approaching her from behind.

Mulder wrapped his arms around her, resting his head on her shoulder.

"I don't think Bill suspects a thing," she told him gravely.

AU-- Post Requiem Mulder is returned with ongoing medical complications; but that doesn't stop the leftover Conspiracy or Bill Scully's lingering concerns.

And salliejohns's

Mr. Mulder, Mother Maggie, and Empty Place Settings

It was a big risk, but it paid off well. We were able to establish contact with our old boss and he came through for us, sending Bill Scully, Jr. a cryptic message about his dry cleaning.

AU-- S9 Bill is happy to find his sister and her partner alive in California; but that doesn't erase the pain of losing touch with his mother while Maggie raises baby William in hiding.

Hestia01‘s (Ao3) The Next Great Adventure Chapter 1 and Chapter 5

"Bill, they're here!"

Bill looks around, now looking concerned for his mother's grip on reality. "Who's here?"

"Dana's here! She brought Fox along, too! You can't see them, but they stayed!"

Giving his mother a pitying look, he nods indulgently. "Sure, Mom, whatever helps."

AU-- The crack adventures of Mulder and Scully after death (Skinner hoarding their poster and Bill getting his comeuppance included.)

@incidental-ao3/incidental's

Keep It All the Year

“Where’d he go?” she asked. He shrugged.

“Got in a cab,” he said. “I don’t know where to.” Scully groaned.

“Maybe one of you should stay put so the other can find them,” he said, but she wasn’t listening at all.

“He left his phone at the hotel, I bet he went back to get it,” she said, barreling passing Bill down the stairs and grabbing the keys.

AU-- S6 Mulder is dragged out to Scully's torturous family Christmas in San Diego, where the franchise becomes a complete disaster all the way 'round (Diana included.)

bluesamutra's una via - Chapter 4, Chapter 5 and Chapter 6

Dana had been at death’s door before he showed up at the hospital with a computer chip and a story straight out of a Michael Crichton book. Bill had stood by in disbelief when she, a woman of science, trusted him enough to put it in her neck.

And yet.

And yet, he had watched from the shadows of her room, unseen, when Mulder crept into her room that same night and wept silently into her hand.

AU-- Post Amor Fati Bill Scully's family reunion takes a serious turn when Matthew almost drowns and Mulder injures his shoulder during the rescue.

@scully-eats-sushi/ijustknew's

You're Not Alone and You're Not Alone II

She’d barely stepped inside their mother’s home before Bill had started inspecting her injuries, making her instantly regret not wearing a turtleneck. He went so far as to grasp her chin and tilt her head up to get a better look at them. Irritated, she’d shoved his hand away and declared “I’m fine” before stepping past him to embrace her mother.

Post Millennium Mulder and Scully are navigating their relationship post episode, with their own personal complications as well as her family, profiling, and on-the-job demands.

Red0313's Nothing Breaks Like a Heart

We make eye contact. He knows I am awake. I can’t even fake it. This should be good. Kick a man while he’s down, literally.

“Mister Mulder, I see you’re going to be just fine. That seems to make my sister very happy,” he huffs. Something’s eating him up.

S7 Bill observes his sister's pain and penance after Mulder takes a bullet for her.

Susan Proto’s Barbecue Series 14, The - Labor of Love

She must have picked up Matty, because all I hear from him now are soft whimpers instead of hysterical crying. And then I hear her ask, "What happened, Bill?"

"He got hit by the Harley. He ran into the street and got hit by the Harley."

A Harley?

AU-- Mulder has been bullied by Bill for years, and finally sets his foot down after the other throws away his engagement ring.

@tatooedlaura-blog/tatooedlaura/Laura Sprys’s Always Been Yours

Mulder was out of the shower and in the kitchen helping Scully with a makeshift dinner when Charlie and Bill walked through the door. Scully's eyes swam again when she saw her older brother. Hugging her tightly, he looked over toward Mulder and nodded his head.

In shocked surprise, he walked over a shook Bill's hand, "hello again."

AU-- S7 Maggie is unexpectedly killed in a car accident; and Bill keeps to himself while Mulder prevents Scully from falling apart.

Thank you for reading~

Enjoy!

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softagenda · 10 months

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skin deep (leander)

leander x reader(f)

au - mc/reader ties up leander

originally posted on ao3

masterlist

Preview

“You can tie me up first if it makes you feel better.”

After a moment’s contemplation, you slowly nodded. “Okay.”

Leander’s grinning face went slack, his jaw dropping. His hands paused in the middle of removing the leather gloves from his fingers. “I - wait, what?”

“Let’s tie you up first. I think that would be safest, for both of us.” You glanced back at the Wet Wick. “Would they have a room we could use for a short while?”

His mouth moved soundlessly for a moment, his cheeks flushed, before he asked, “You… want to tie me up?”

“Mm.”

“Oh. Uh. Hold on, let’s - ”

You led the way back into the Wick.

A dozen heads seemed to turn around as you stepped through the doorway. Hesitating, you glanced through the crowd but when no one met your gaze again you approached the bar. The din of the crowd pressed against you, laughter and the clinking of glasses ringing in your ears. Somewhere in the middle of the room, Leander caught up to you and trailed behind.

The barkeeper refilled a glass and looked up, her dark eyes flickering over you first, then Leander with something akin to boredom. “What can I get ya?”

“Do you have a room we could borrow?” you asked, mentally counting what little coin you had left in your purse. “We’d only need it for a short time.”

“Oh?” Her gaze swept you from head to toe, taking the measure of you, before she shot a narrow-eyed look at Leander. “A short time? I’d have thought this one would warrant more than that.”

Leander flushed and cleared his throat, his expression sheepish, but you cut in before he could speak.

“He’s been more than generous with his time,” you said, not wanting the barkeeper to think less of Leander on your behalf. “It’s at my humble request. I’d be happy to pay a fair wage.”

A thin, polished brow arched high. She seemed to digest that for a moment, then shrugged. “To each their own.” She reached under the bar and slid a key across the counter. “Your usual room’s open.”

You turned to Leander. “Oh, do you live here?”

The barkeeper snorted.

With a quick, strained laugh, Leander placed his hand on your back and guided you toward the stairs. “Not quite, but you know how it is. Late nights, plenty of drinks, good friends. I’m a regular.” His face was turned back toward the counter, exchanging a look with the barkeeper you couldn’t quite see except for the grin on her face.

“I see.”

Old, beautiful oak wood and iron finishings molded the second floor of the Wet Wick. A long hallway stretched into the back of the building, a new door fixed every few paces and labeled with their own knocker. As you walked, you took note of the emblem’s etched into the surface: a hissing badger, a sleeping squirrel, a dog with its nose and tail poised in the air. They’re well-made and charming, in a strange way.

“Animal motifs?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m curious to see what lies on your usual door.”

Leander’s boot caught on the floor, and he stumbled. His hand swept through his hair, a grin spreading on his lips. “Ah ha ha, don’t read too much into it. Barkeep’s got a twisted sense of humor.”

By then, they’d reached the end of the hall. One door took up the corner, its front and trim cast from a dark, glossy rosewood and decorated with more delicate filigree. This one too had a crest on the front, though much larger and finer than the rest. Initially, you mistook the shape for a large rat with a long tail - then you recognized it.

“A mongoose?” you asked, leaning closer. A narrow head grew out from the furred body, with gleaming gold eyes and a protruding fang, its tail curling high as though warding off predators. You considered that for a moment before glancing at his neck, where the golden earring of the sword and the snake, eating itself, rested. “Because of…”

He unlocked the door with a flare of his wrist. “Like I said. Twisted sense of humor.” He held the door open and gestured you in. “After you.”

You paused before the threshold, instinct rising like a wary wolf and baring its teeth in the back of your mind at the thought of entering a closed room with a stranger. A powerful stranger at that. A mage with abilities similar if not greater than her former teacher. A man nestled in the heart of his territory, surrounded by his pack.

That mental beast of vigilance had hunted you - dogged your footsteps through the journey to Eridia. Always wary. Always watching, waiting for the knife to swing on your back.

Forever you would look at every shadow with fear, every person with suspicion. After all, Mericka had been your teacher and companion, your guide in this volatile world - if even she could plunge the knife and turn it, why not a stranger?

Still, you had to try. Otherwise, how could you move forward?

Several people seemed prepared to vouch for Leander. The mysterious doctor, Kuras. The barkeeper. The unknown dozens of people who worked as part of the Bloodhounds. This - trusting him - was a calculated risk.

“Is this the room reserved for the rich and famous?” you asked, surveying the spacious room with a table, chairs, dresser, and a large bed in the center of the wall. Two bedside tables were draped in a green velvet cloth and topped with antique feylamps that cast the room in a golden, slightly greenish glow. A tapestry was draped over the wall and undulated under a breeze invading from the window opposite the door. Its many threads and colors depicted a map of the city itself.

“I’m about as famous as it gets for the Wet Wick,” Leander said, amused, as he closed the door and crouched down to untie his boots.

You hastened to follow. It’d be rude to dirty the floor for this, when there might be guests using the room later.

With boots and jackets hung by the door, you lingered just by the foot of the bed. “So… ropes?”

When you turned to look at him, your breath caught in your chest. Beneath the coat, the layers of shirt were skin tight and sleeveless. Taut muscles bunched beneath the black fabric but bared his arms, leagues of smooth skin threaded with the occasional vein. The scar that peeked over his jaw spread down his left arm, the edges jagged but faded, like ink across the thick bicep and forearm.

You blinked and forced yourself to look away. It’d be rude to stare.

At your question, Leander’s brows arched, but he clapped and said, gamely, “Jumping right in! Brave one, I see. Well, I appreciate a woman who knows what she wants.” He headed for the bedside table and began rummaging through the top drawer.

You’re the brave one . Your hands twisted together, your gut tightening.

“Luckily, I’ve always got the essentials on hand.”

“Rope counts as an essential for your nightstand?”

Leander’s shoulder twitched, and when he glanced over to you, his face was slightly rosy. “Well, you never know where the night will turn.”

You mused over that before nodding. In a sprawling city like Eridia, full of monsters and magic, you supposed the likelihood of getting ambushed while asleep was high. It’d be useful to have rope nearby to subdue your attackers for interrogation.

“Here we go!” Leander turned. In his hands was a pile of silk.

You stared at the fabric. “You’re… quite kind to your prisoners.”

Leander’s lips parted, his eyes searching for something in your face, before a single, awkward laugh escaped. “Not into that?”

“No. I mean,” you hastened to explain as his eyes widened, “It’s not that, just… It’s a good thing, I suppose. Just surprising. Will that truly be able to subdue a fully grown man?”

“Oh, yeah.” He grinned as he looked down at the silk, the slippery material almost dripping from his wrists. “It’ll hold.”

He spoke with such confidence that you assumed he must know from experience. You stepped closer and inspected the bundle. “Is there an enchantment on it? To make it binding?”

Leander met your gaze. The soft fringe of his hair fell across his brow, the ends caught in the fan of his lashes. “There could be. Do you want that?”

The quiet held between you for a moment. “That might be for the best,” you murmured, though you would understand his caution. After all, you were just as much stranger to him, as he to you. That he would even allow you to tie him up spoke volumes on his courage.

He leaned closer, and his next words brushed across your face. “So sure your touch will drive me to madness?” His eyes held you to the spot, the clear, emerald depths gleaming, identical to the magic that had conjured lilies from thin air in the pub below.

Your throat felt exceptionally dry. You swallowed, your gaze trailing across the strong nose and olive skin, his gold earring swaying from his ear, before lingering on the edge of the scar that cut up his jaw. “Yes,” you whispered.

A hum rose from within him, rumbling like the early boiling of dragon’s roar. “More and more,” he said, almost in your ear. “I’m starting to believe it.”

A shudder slipped down your spine.

With a quick breath, you stepped back. You cleared your throat and said, fighting the tremble that threatened to slip into your voice, “You should.”

Leander rolled his shoulders, the bones cracking, before his winsome grin returned, if a bit more subdued. “We’ll see. So,” he gestured to the bed, “how do you want me?”

You walked around the bed, grabbing the headboard and the frame to test the give of the wood. Luckily, the headboard seemed to have been nailed to the wall. Likely to prevent thieves from stealing such high quality pieces. There was even a decorative window of wooden spokes embedded across the length of it. “We can improvise with these.” You grabbed one and tugged hard, but luckily the wood held fast.

Leander’s lips pressed together as though fighting the urge to say something.

“Or not - think they’ll break?”

“Oh, no, they’ll be fine. They were,” he paused, his cheek hollowing, “practically made for that purpose.”

For tying rope ? You pondered that for a second before setting that aside to consider later. Perhaps weavers used the spokes to create custom throws and bed sheets.

Leander sat on the end of the bed before laying down and sliding over, his head nestled on the feather pillows. His arms stretched out to the corners of the bed, his muscles shifting beneath the shadow of his shirt. He somehow seemed even broader spread across the bed like this, the thick duvet holding him snug.

“How’s this?” He reached back and hooked his fingers through the spokes, tugging until his back lifted an inch from the bed, the muscles of his arms and abs flexing, straining.

Your heart was beating strangely fast as you considered him. Must be nerves.

“Hmm. It’d be a more effective hold if your arms were tied together. Less flexibility or leverage to maneuver.”

“Like this?” He lifted his arms above the crown of his head, his elbows loose by his ears.

“Yes. Same with your legs.”

As he shuffled into place, you picked up the bundle of silk from the bed and rubbed the fabric. There’s more to the texture than the silk you’d felt in the past - the old but well-cared for square that your teacher had spread on the altar - a sort of roughness that sparked beneath your fingertips. The strengthening charm, you’d bet.

You tied first his legs before moving up to his arms, Leander docile beneath you. As you leaned over his face, working the silk around his wrists and spokes into a double-looped mooring knot you’d learned from fishermen in your childhood, he shifted slightly. You glanced down.

He was watching you from below, his chin tipped back. His dark hair had fallen back onto the sheets, exposing his face to the warm glow of the feylights, their flickering embers dancing in the corner of his eyes. His lips were parted, his skin flushed once more.

You froze, realizing your position. “Sorry, almost finished.”

“Take your time,” he replied, sounding a little breathless.

You glanced down again with concern, looking at his chest. Could the position be restricting his ability to breathe? The shirt had seemed flexible, if rather tight. You’d better pick up the pace.

With a tug, you secured his arms and sat back to give him space. “How does that feel? Too tight? Not tight enough?”

Leander licked his lips and peered up at you from heavy-lidded eyes, a smile teasing the corners of his mouth. “Just right.”

You stared back, bemused by his attitude. “You’re being awfully gracious about all this. Most people would balk at the idea of a stranger with a dangerous curse tying them to a bed.”

“I’m not most people,” he said, “and it’s not the first time I’ve been tied up by a beautiful stranger.” Leander rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck while you attempted to digest that statement before he continued. “Well, I’m ready for you. Shall we?”

You hesitated. “...are you sure?”

“That I want your hands on me?” He grinned. “Never been more sure of anything.”

“This isn’t a joke, Leander.”

He released a long, heavy sigh before shifting his hip to nudge your thigh. “All of this,” he began, gesturing to his tied up body with a flutter of his fingers, “is for your sake, not mine. Well, maybe a little for mine, but not how you’d think,” he conceded with a quick grin but held your gaze.“Listen to me. I’m confident in my abilities. I can handle whatever you throw at me.”

A film of luminescent magic swept over his body, as thin and glossy as a spider’s web. He tilted his head to the side, his cheek brushing his arm.

“So,” he continued, his voice dropping deep and soft. “Touch me.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, anxious, racing. His eyes were as calm and bright as the surface of a pond, without a trace of fear.

With a sinking feeling, you looked down. If you ignored the bandages, your hands could almost look normal. The size. The shape of them. You hadn’t been born with tentacles or massive talons or nails as sharp as knives. Maybe that would have been easier.

What made them grotesque far transcended their appearance.

With trembling fingers, you pulled the end from the bandage around your wrist and began unwinding. Each new layer revealed more of the skin beneath, dark and stormy like a bruise, threaded with strange cracks of hardened gold, until you’d dropped the last of the bandages from your black fingernails.

You flexed your fingers idly, dread sitting like a stone in the pit of your stomach. When you glanced over, Leander was watching eagerly.

“Interesting…” Then, with another warm smile, he gestured with a tilt of his chin toward the golden pin on the front of his shirt. “We match.”

You huffed before swallowing around the weight in your throat. “Where should I…” you trailed off, avoiding his gaze.

He hummed thoughtfully, sounding far more at ease than he should be. “Since I can’t hold your hand properly like this, how about my arm?”

You paused, wondering if you should do this on your feet for a faster escape, but in the end you simply twisted your hips until your leg pressed against the side of the bed.

Leander laid perfectly still and relaxed, as though he were out on the grass tracing shapes from clouds on a summer afternoon, rather than subjecting himself to potential insanity. The arm closest to you eased further into the bed as he settled in. His right one, where the edges of that scar reached around to the more tender flesh of his inner arm.

You checked his eyes again, searching for any hint - however tiny or hidden or cowed - of fear, concern, anything. He only smiled back.

You took a long, steadying breath, your heart in your throat. Then you reached out with a shaking hand until a point just beside his elbow. Retreating for a moment’s panicked indecision, you repositioned closer to the middle of his forearm.

You stared at your own fingertips, enduring that familiar loathing and fear down to your marrow. Please. Please, don’t hurt him . You prayed whatever powers that Leander believed in were steadfast and watching.

Then, you let your fingertips drop to his skin for a single moment, before immediately yanking them back to your chest.

His body twitched, the bed creaking at the sudden movement. That luminescent web of magic flared, rippling across his skin for a brief, bright wave, before vanishing. His eyes were closed, his face blank.

“...Leander?” Pulse pounding, barely daring to breathe, you waited.

Then as his mouth slowly twisted into a smile, one eye peaked open. “Is that all?”

You watched with bated breath, still on the edge, still waiting.

Leander tossed his hair back from his face and stretched his arm out toward you, encouragingly. “Come on, you’ve got me all wrapped up like this - it’d be a shame if you stopped there.” His voice lowered, rich and sweet as honey: “Keep going.”

Inch by inch, your shoulders began to sink. The tension in your body ebbing away with every word - every confusing, vaguely ridiculous word. You suddenly felt your body again, as though you’d been adrift as a spirit before getting sucked back into your mortal flesh: the sweat sticking to your back, the ringing fading from your ears, your heart beating against your ribs.

Your lungs pinched, forcing you to suck in a quick breath, and the relief seemed to burst over you.

“Leander, you’re - “

“Just fine.” His eyes softened, more of that genuine warmth seeping through the cracks of his charismatic facade. “That’s one hell of a curse. Nothing I can’t handle, though.” Leander gestured once more with his chin. “C’mon. Try again?”

Inexplicably but hopelessly tempted, you reached for him again, still wary, your eyes darting from your hand to his face. You let your hand fall until your whole palm was pressed against him, skin to skin, checking his expression all the while.

He’s flushed around the cheeks and collar, but there’s warmth and humor and life in his face.

You could hardly believe it, but it’s there.

You smoothed your hand up his arm carefully, in awe at the feeling of his body heat against your bare skin. Fingertips pressing in here and there, tracing the curvature of muscle and bone, your thumb lingering on the pulse just beneath his glove, his heart thumping beneath your touch.

You’d touched people before - even been intimate and embraced others - but always through the veil of the bandages. You’ve spent the past few years on the cusp of giving up all hope that you could ever have this.

Now, at the threshold of your final desperate chance, the very day after you’d made your peace with death as you laid bleeding out in a swamp, at the claws of a vicious monster - you’ve found it.

You traced your hand back down his arm, following along the path of a vein, your other hand gripping the sheets so tightly your knuckles strained white. The feeling was unlike anything you’d ever known.

Leander’s hushed voice broke through the dream-like trance you’d fallen into. “Am I the first person you’ve been able to touch like this?”

Caught between embarrassment and abject longing, you admitted, “So far.” Idly, your fingers continued to delicately trace his scars, the raised edges contrasting vividly against his smooth skin.

His lips parted, the look in his eyes inscrutable, before he said, his voice slightly rough, “Anything you want.”

You froze.“What?”

“Touch anything you want,” Leander said again, his cheek nestled against his arm. “I’m all yours.”

Your hand stilled as the bold, frankly outlandish offer sunk in.

For having only known you for a few hours at best, Leander was proving to be very generous with his time, his skills, his magic, and - apparently his body too. You’re even a little concerned at the prospect - as he himself had said about the Senobium, things that seemed too good to be true usually were. But was the truth here that Leander was creating a trap, or that he was by nature generous to the point of endangering himself?

Still. You licked dry lips as you fought with yourself. No one had ever offered a second touch before. No one else had survived the first.

Feeling your morals losing the battle against utter temptation, you asked, “... you wouldn’t mind?” You knew you shouldn’t - truly he’d been generous enough, you shouldn’t take any more than that. But you wanted to, more than a little desperately.

“Not a wick.”

Treading with caution, you braced one knee on the bed and rose over him. You reached forward until both hands stopped, poised above his wrists. Being able to touch another person with one hand - that had been barely more than a dream. Both seemed like utter fantasy. With a small breath for fortitude, you gingerly laid both hands on his skin.

A breathless laugh escaped you as you stroked gently down, the sensation electric for all it was a barely-there touch. Once you’d reached just above his armpit, you trailed them back up again, this time with the lightest scratch of your nails.

Goosebumps chased your fingers up his arms. Leander seemed to shudder under you.

His eyes narrowed on your face for a long moment before he clenched them shut. “You’re really not doing this on purpose, are you,” he said, the words more like a pained truth than a true question.

You frowned, unsure what he meant. You started to pull away, but the moment your hands left him, his head whipped up.

“Wait, that’s not - Ignore me.” When still you hesitated, Leander attempted to shuffled closer, his back lifting from the bed as though intending to close the distance himself. The bedframe creaked ominously, something wood letting out a hissing wheeze. “Keep touching! Do with me as you will. Don’t stop on my account, please.”

“Ah, you shouldn’t move so much - your wrists - “ When you glanced up, his hands were turning purple from the tight pull of the silk rope.

Without thinking, you leaned forward and tried to unravel the knot as quickly as possible amidst the shaking of the bed, only for Leander to grow suddenly still underneath you. You paused in your struggle to unravel the mooring knot and looked down.

His face was just inches from yours. You froze, staring into his shocked green eyes, the thick fan of his lashes, his flushed skin and full, parted lips. He held your gaze for a moment before glancing down at your mouth, then back, and something about the way he looked at you snapped a curl of fire through you, like a lit match sparking on a line of gunpowder.

Purely on instinct, you grabbed the headboard and pushed yourself back, almost tumbling off the bed in your haste. “Sorry, sorry,” you hastened to apologize, burning from head to toe. “That was - an accident.”

On the bed, Leander was silent for a moment, still angled toward the ceiling. Then he sighed. “...I know.”

You turned away to hide your face, working furiously to get yourself under control. You couldn’t believe how thoughtless you’d just been. Here Leander was, sacrificing his time and safety and comfort to help you, and you just - smothered him in the process? And to almost -

The sight of his lush, parted mouth flashed through your mind.

Immediately you began silently reciting the Register of Alchemical Ingredients , fighting for distraction. By the time you’d reached spirit of nitre, your once teacher’s voice echoing in your head, you turned around and cleared your throat.

“I apologize again if I’ve made you uncomfortable.”

Leander’s brows rose, but he shook his head. “Not at all. Well - “ He glanced down his body before avoiding your gaze. “No harm, no foul. Want to continue?” He’s smiling, his eyes crinkling, but soon frowned when you shook your head.

“It’s probably for the best that we stop here.” Clearly, you’d need to prepare for the next opportunity. If there was one, either with Leander or someone else. You felt dizzy with this new opportunity, this freedom you’d been searching for all your life. Even so, you couldn’t lose all sense of respect like that.

You untied him, from the side of the bed and well out of his personal space. As Leander slowly sat up and rubbed his wrists, the skin now bright red and raw, you felt a pinch of irony well bittersweet in your chest. You took a seat next to him and pulled a small vial of salve out of your pocket. He’d already begun tugging his gloves off and offering his hands at the sight, an eager smile on his face.

It’s enough to make you genuinely fond of him already.

“It’s funny. We restrained you in case you lost control, and then I…well,” you trailed off, delicately holding his wrist and smoothing the salve across the angry marks. To have bruises this dark, even with silk…. “I should have been more considerate of you.”

“I disagree. If anything,” he said in a low voice, just above a whisper, “you could’ve been greedier.”

For what felt like the thousandth time that afternoon, you glanced at his mouth again, your blood heating at the sight of that whiskey sweet smile spreading across his lips, crinkling the corners of his eyes.

“Still could be, if you want,” he continued, leaning in, his shoulder bumping into yours. The swing of his earring caught the glint of the feylamps, the light flickering down the length of the sword.

You got to your feet and tucked the salve back into your pocket, along with your other meager belongings. “I couldn’t impose.” He looked a second from arguing the point, until you met his gaze solemnly over your shoulder. “Thank you, Leander. I can’t express how much this meant to me.”

Then, you smiled.

It was undoubtedly an awkward, cracking thing - you couldn’t remember the last time you’d attempted more than a half-smile or a short laugh. This one seemed to fill your cheeks up.

You had a moment to witness Leander’s jaw drop, before you hurriedly turned and began gathering your things. It’d be rude to overstay your welcome, after all.

Your eagerness to get back out into the city had nothing at all to do with the way his mouth kept popping up in your mind or the way your hands ached with the desire to touch him again.

________________________

“How about you, sparrow? I did say I’d buy you a drink earlier.”

“No, no, no, my treat. ”

“If anything, I should treat you, Leander.”

“Oh? ”

“As an apology for the rope burns.”

“..."

“...”

“It’s, uh. Both exactly what you’re thinking and not.”

_________________________

a/n: thank you for reading!

#touchstarved leander #touchstarved fanfic #touchstarved reader fic #leander x mc #leander x reader #leander fic

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freeuselandonorris · 5 months

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4, 11 and 20 pleeease 🙏

4. Where do you find inspiration for new ideas?

i almost exclusively write RPF, and so my inspiration for fics comes, 99% of the time, from real-life interactions (which is why i have written so very much landoscar recently, because WOW is there a lot of inspiration). the sterling work of the gif-makers, rippers, and fandom archivists on here does a lot of the heavy lifting for me! for instance, i wrote tell me where it hurts and i’ll make it hurt better having never previously considered fernando alonso in a sexual light because of the post-podium photos and because, frankly, i had taken half a gram of MDMA the night previous and needed something to distract myself while my brain chemistry sorted itself out 🤷‍♂️

following neatly on from that, i also have an absolutely fetid little swamp brain and spend about 75% of any given day thinking about truly disgusting sex stuff, and fic is an outlet for that. often i’ll have ideas floating around my mind for a while before i get round to them or even decide on a pairing, for instance a lot like life which features boot worship and fisting, two kinks i’d wanted to write for ages.

i have a pretty big backlog of horrendous ideas: charles/pierre knifeplay! toto and susie have a terrible toxic threesome with george (not sure i can write this one without accidentally turning it into toto x susie x reader ngl) (it’s me, i am reader)! fernando/lando follow-up with added oscar! toto forces christian to choke him! free use bimbofication lando norris!

i also get inspiration from other writers! whether it’s the line in @lost-decade’s fic you will find me if you let go that inspired me to write born and raised for the job, or all the incredible rule 63 fics like ego death by @beechersnope, trade offer by anon, and first by @flawlessassholes that inspired me to write girl!lando.

11. Link your three favorite fics right now

oh man. just three???

AT THE MOMENT:

adagio by @theory81 - landoscar ballet AU! i don’t fuck with AUs very often but i’ve been waiting for a ballet AU in the F1 tag for a while and this is more than i could have hoped for. sweet, funny slowburn with a gorgeously camp, smart-dumb-brat lando POV.

jump right in by @strawberry-daiquiris - girl!lando/oscar WIP, theeeeee most perfect escapist slowburn, basically a shot of dopamine direct to the cerebral cortex. i finish every chapter grinning like an idiot.

climb up to your lips by @scenetocause - girl!oscar/lando WIP, soft femdom oscar, sweet and soft, feels like a slowburn even though they’re fucking increasingly nasty, perfect mixture of simping without being cloying, regularly melts my brain with the sex scenes.

god i could easily have made this a top ten this was HARD.

20. Have you noticed any patterns in your fics? Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

oh absolutely. i am but a simple goblin. most of my fics explore uneven power dynamics, wet and messy kinks, sadomasochistic leanings, or poor communication.

i use way too many adverbs (stuff like definitely, absolutely, probably) and I have to CTRL+F for “seem” and “feel” before i post anything because i will use them every other sentence if i don’t pay attention.

most of my fics are set in hotel rooms or cooldown rooms. you know that post about hotel rooms being the liminal space in which sublimated desires are realised in sports RPF? yeah, that. i also write a lot about food? i like planning little details about scenes, like what they’re eating and drinking, and i often research restaurants in the area i’m writing about.

thanks for asking anonnie!! 🤍

get to know your fic writer!

#linking and tagging this took FOREVER #praying i got everyone’s urls right #ask meme #fic meta

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antialiasis · 3 months

Text

Groundhog Dave, the 16k-word Morphic time loop extra, is finally up on TCoD. If you've been following this blog for a while, you may have seen me intermittently talk about it. Long story short, Dave is trapped in a time loop on the day of chapter 13, and we explore how he responds and unravels.

Content warnings: This is a whump fic. It features some strong violence including gun violence, suicide and suicidal thoughts, brief vomiting, a deluge of strong and demeaning language, consumption of alcohol, heavy emotional distress, existential horror, and a whole lot of children dying.

Some rambling below the cut about how it came to be and my favorite bits in it.

The first inkling of this story was when I saw someone in the Groundhog Day tag on Tumblr writing a Newsies time loop fanfic titled Groundhog Dave. I have never seen Newsies and have no idea who that Dave is, but I think of Morphic Dave every time I see the name, so instantly I pictured Dave in a time loop on the day of chapter 13, and I could not stop intermittently thinking about it. Eventually, I started writing it.

I don't remember the process of beginning to write it super well, but I remember waiting for a coach at Port Authority with Negrek after seeing the actual Groundhog Day musical and typing up the bit in the third iteration where Dave rages at God on my phone, which was definitely one of the earliest bits I thought of. I know that for a while, what I had written up in the document was the first four iterations and a bit: the original, the one that more or less spawns the Dave and Mia Discuss Family AU, the one where he snaps and gets himself killed, the one where he wakes up after that and decides he can experiment and figure this out, and the summary of his next few goes. I know the document was stuck there for a while, with intermittent tinkering and vague ideas but nothing really in the way of writing progress. On August 12th 2021, I posted in the Thousand Roads Discord about how I'd just written an entire NaNo day's worth of Groundhog Dave, and I'm quite sure there I was referring to the scene where Dave is at the hospital, fails to shoot himself to end the loop, and talks with Cheryl. In 2023, I started doing regular sprints working on it (thanks, Negrek), which was what finally got me past the finish line; before that, the document stood at about 8500 words, while it ended up at about 16500 (though with some bits and notes at the bottom).

The actual ending went through a series of iterations as I was working on it. My first idea for an ending for it was just a cruel, "He does finally fix everything and all the kids live, and then he goes to bed and wakes up in the canon timeline, because he cannot have nice things." This wasn't a super satisfying idea, of course, by itself. I went back and forth through various possibilities from there over the story's development time. At one point or another I considered different variations on whether he does manage to stay in a Better Timeline or whether he ends up back in the canon one at the end, how exactly the loop ends up breaking (initially I was genuinely thinking the loop would break one way or another once nobody dies and the Character Development would have to be leading up towards that, but later I realized it was actually tastier if he does manage it and the loop just keeps going anyway; the precise nature of the Character Development involved was also a bit back and forth), and whether the whole thing would be completely unexplained in the vein of Groundhog Day itself or if I would make more ambiguous use of Lucy's recurring penchant for being involved with bizarre supernatural happenings in non-canon extras.

I'm pretty satisfied with what I did end up with, at any rate. My first inkling of the Lucy thing was just sort of ending with ambiguous Lucy, and I wasn't sure that would really work, but it felt a lot more appropriate to actually do that once Lucy tied more into his overall character development - the couple of early iterations where he takes things out on her specifically as if it's her fault or she should have intervened, his general guilt about actually using her to intervene, the repeated conversations in the car where she manages to confront him at the right moment with why he's so mean, him managing to choose to let go and not be an ass to her in the final scene. I'm also pleased with what I landed on with the several different things happening for the first time in the final iteration: him actually mustering the ability to articulate how much he needs the kids for his life to be worth anything, and affirming that he'll keep doing it even if he'll never get to live in the good timelines, and being forced to confront the ways in which he's been cruel and unpleasant to the kids despite how much they mean to him and choose not to, and finally being able to express an honest vulnerable emotion to Jean, accept her offer for emotional support and ask her to stay up with him because he needs that. Something just feels a lot stronger to me about it with a greater degree of ambiguity about the end of the loop, no one single obvious switch that's the thing like someone was dutifully waiting for him to just say this one magic word. (Similarly, what exactly Lucy did in fact have to do with this, if anything, had to be ambiguous. The loop cannot be a concrete phenomenon with a clear singular cause, or it would have just felt wrong. I have realized I have strong feelings on when fiction should be deliberately ambiguous, not because there is a concrete truth that the author is arbitrarily concealing to force you to guess, but because one way or another establishing any concrete truth would detract or distract from the story being told.)

Some little things I enjoy in this story:

Dave's increasingly frazzled awakenings in the first few loops just really tickle me.

Him knocking on the door, then realizing Cheryl heard his sky-rant and just immediately turning around to go on an ill-advised suicide mission to the church rather than have to try to explain that to her amuses me greatly. What a timeline.

My favorite bit of said suicide mission is actually the bit where he's lying there dying and manages to spend that time being restlessly, angrily impatient about how long it's taking and grasping hard for some sense of satisfaction in having killed this stranger, without ever managing it. The most pathetic possible suicidal rampage of revenge.

The hospital bathroom scene is still my favorite scene in the whole thing. It presses my particular whump buttons extremely hard, and it's just extremely representative of Dave and his problems, him mercilessly bullying himself and Cheryl trying very genuinely to reach out to him and let him know he's not alone while he compulsively rejects it, adamant that he doesn't need anyone or anything even though he's acutely suffering, resenting her for it and shooting back at her efforts with pointless, uncalled-for sarcasm. It also has some of my very favorite lines: "There was a knock on the door and he lowered the gun quickly, like a kid caught playing with something he shouldn't," "What the actual fuck did she think he was doing in here," "Still there?" answered irritably with, "There's only one door. Do the math," when he came so, so close to not in fact still being there. So fond of it.

The offhand unelaborated upon mention that Dave has at one point or another read enough to not bungle a suicide by gunshot is extremely some precise button that I have.

I'm also deeply fond of the iteration where Gabriel dies. Dave tries so hard to force himself to decide he can live with that and just decidedly does not succeed. I enjoy him sitting there irritably thinking maybe they should have just done this in the first place when the others attempt to safely reach the police, silently pretty much convinced that would have been a better idea and thinking all this could have been avoided (but without actually consciously admitting to having been wrong, of course), only to immediately go, "He'd always known this was a bad idea. Why'd he even fucking let them?" when the consequences come knocking. You fucking let them because you thought it was probably a good idea at the time, Dave.

I really enjoy how much Dave cares about the kids, can't not care about the kids, while most of the kids have a hard time grasping how much he cares because he's so persistently Like That. Loved to write the multiple times Jack viciously accuses him of not caring about Gabriel, and the way Dave's idea of disabusing him of the notion is just to be an asshole to him, because he's incapable of expressing sincere emotional sentiment. Lucy, similarly, keeps probing him about what he's going to do if the loop doesn't stop, and he just keeps answering in evasive, defensive irritation as if she's challenging him somehow, until he finally manages to realize that no, she was worried that if his efforts wouldn't end the loop he might just stop bothering. (Only then he's finally been driven far enough to actually manage a smidge of emotional honesty.)

Similar recurring horrible dramatic irony I enjoyed: Dave hates Jean's evolved form so, so horribly much when it's just a hypothetical manifestation of Something Horrible Happening To Her that he's trying to stop and not what his daughter really looks like. One of the things that only quite felt right when I'd finally landed back on him ending up in the canon timeline was that he then actually has to confront the cruelty of that with himself and affirm his unconditional love for her, instead of being 'rewarded' with the cuter, unevolved Jean.

I always get a kick out of how relatively easily Dave in nonsenscial situations just slides from adamant atheism into antitheism without a pause. He's perfectly genuine about thinking God doesn't exist, of course, but there is a level on which he kind of wants him to, just so he can face him and walk backwards into Hell, and as a result you get these situations where he sort of entertains the idea far more easily than he rationally should given his priors. The yelling at God about why he isn't curing malaria instead of whatever this is is pretty unique to the very particular mental state he's in on that iteration, but the multiple times he offhandedly thinks maybe this is literally Hell are total nonsense in his professed belief system but nonetheless a place where his mind is just inclined to go.

Meanwhile, I also enjoy the bit where Mia gets him to contemplate that he might be experiencing proof that souls exist - but he's less willing to entertain that in the same way because it doesn't have the same emotional valence for him, so it's not something that properly occurred to him before that, and then he just throws up his hands and moves on.

Thanks if you read it! I would love to hear any thoughts on it.

#morphic #actual writing #groundhog dave #dave's terrible horrible no good very bad groundhog day #david ambrose's many issues let me tell you about them #ramble

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aenariasbookshelf · 11 months

Text

you say you want (me) (part seven of ?)

title: you say you want (me) (part seven of ?)

author: Aenaria

rating: G

Weekly prompt: Cherry week at the @darcylewisbingohq

Characters: Darcy Lewis, Steve Rogers

tags/warnings: Darcy/Steve, soulmate AU

Summary: In a world where having a soulmate mark is the norm for most people, Darcy Lewis is one of the rare few unmarked people. Of course, this doesn’t stop her from finding the right partner.

Previous parts can be found here: https://www.tumblr.com/aenariasbookshelf/719213889614708736

I really should put these ficlets into some sort of order and get them posted to AO3, shouldn't I?

“I can’t believe you’re taking me to Staten fucking Island for a date.”

“No, I took you to Brooklyn for a date, we’re making a quick stop for dessert before heading back to the compound. Besides, you said you liked Italian ice; this place supposedly has some of the best around.”

Darcy just rolls her eyes bemusedly as she hops out of the passenger seat of the inconspicuous black SUV. Steve shuts the door behind her and they begin to walk down the street to where the Italian ice place of legend is. He slings an arm around her shoulders and pulls her close, providing a little bit of extra warmth in the chill of the fall evening.

The place is surprisingly crowded, people waiting on various lines inching towards the ordering counter. Steve tugs his baseball cap just a little bit lower and makes sure that the lensless glasses are still on his face. Darcy privately thinks it’s the dumbest disguise ever, but it seems to work better than imagined. But also, maybe it’s because people don’t expect to see someone as famous and well known as Captain America doing something as normal as going out to dinner or getting some ice cream. Which is both a curse and a blessing in itself.

Still, Darcy notices a couple of sly glances tossed their way that she’s not quite sure what to make of. So she just stays curled into Steve’s side as they wait their turn.

This being New York (even if they are in a part that Darcy would barely consider a part of the city) however, no one says anything and soon enough they’re walking back to the car, icy cold treats in hand. She licks at the ice, orange creamsicle flavors melting on her tongue, cold and creamy and a nice little kick of nostalgia. For just a moment, she’s a child on the boardwalk with her parents, tucking into some Italian ice after spending a long day baking on the beach, getting sand in every crevice and her hair tangled from salt water.

Maybe next summer she can take Steve to the beach also. He needs a vacation more than anyone she knows.

There’s a soft noise next to her, and she sees Steve looking down at her, a soft smile on his face, pink lips made even redder from the cherry ice he’s been eating. “What are you thinking?” he asks.

“I’m thinking I want to, when it’s warmer out, show you the beach where I grew up. And we can just spend a day there being lazy and warm and there’s nothing more important than the water in front of us and the sun in the sky.” Fanciful, yes, but that’s her deepest secret, after all.

That for all her feelings about soulmates being an entire and utter racket, Darcy Lewis is still a romantic at heart.

“In the summer then,” Steve nods. “We’ll make a tradition out of it.” There’s a little flush on his cheeks, just barely visible under the yellow glow of a street light, but it’s the same shade as the cherry on his lips.

“In the summer,” Darcy agrees, grinning. “In the meantime - it’s a Friday night. Neither one of us is working tomorrow. We don’t really need to rush back to the compound, do we?”

Steve shakes his head slowly. “No, no rush at all,” he smirks.

When he bends down to kiss her, he tastes like cherries.

#darcy lewis x steve rogers #darcy lewis #steve rogers #shieldshock #fic #my fic #darcy lewis bingo #mcu

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mists-reading-nook · 1 year

Note

Don't mind me asking again about the bodyswap au—

When you talked about unstable passageways, and a life that wouldn't be peaceful forever, I thought some people from Teyvat were going to come to Earth and try and retrieve Kaeya thinking they found him but they get Reader instead cuz well, body swap, so Kaeya has to explain the body swap situation and stuff goes on from there. I thought people from Earth would get *too* curious about the oddities of Kaeya's body.

But instead the disturbance to the roommates peace is wholly psychological (sans the "chronic illness"). A distant, empty threat. Nobody from Teyvat comes to them. Nobody comes to retrieve them. Yeah they maybe see news reports or social media posts of seelies from Teyvat and a weird tunnel, maybe read conspiracies, some roping in the Genshin Impact game, but soon enough all physical evidence of Teyvat's connection to Earth is gone with the wind. (What if they learned of it all after the connection severed?)

There's also the nightmares Reader gets (do they end after Teyvat completely dies or—?), Kaeya's hair and eyes that never existed on Earth, and the duo's own memories.

This is infinitely more terrifying than people just shoehorning themselves into Kaeya and Reader's Earth life. It's the destruction of a world they want to forget, to ignore, and believe is wholly FICTION! but doesn't allow itself to remain that way as it dies. An apocalypse they let come to fruition because they can't bear the sight of that accursed planet which troubled them so.

Let's talk about the other side now. Diluc's demise implies that after the Reader left Teyvat, the people Kaeya was closest too suffered most from their disappearance. Salt in the wound since they know Kaeya went missing and think he's dead.

Speaking of which, how many people know better than to think Kaeya's dead? Did they notice the "Kaeya" acting off post-Bodyswap but pre-faking death? Is the Reader's ability to falsify a death imperfect tipping people off to a bigger picture? How many people pursue the truth? How many just want to find his body? Get justice for Kaeya?

Venti. Does he involve himself since he hears everything thanks to the wind and knows Kaeya isn't dead? Does he ever know or suspect that a body swap happened? How deep does his knowledge ever go? Does he ever figure out the severity of the situation at all?

Who notices the connection between Kaeya's absence and those closest to him suffering the most during the apocalypse?

What does Dainsleif think of whatever knowledge he has on this clusterfuck? What does the Abyss Sibling think? What bout Traveler? Celestia? Kaeya's biological family? The entities of the Abyss?

How close does anyone get to the truth?

How many people fall for the Reader's scheme and live with the "fact" that Kaeya is dead with only his dead vision as proof?

As Teyvat continue to die, are any alliances forged that wouldn't have occured in a healing Teyvat? What alliances fracture for the same reason?

Hehehehehe bodyswap au <3

Lemme answer these one by one..

- Reader gets a final nightmare after Tevyat dies. It's Graphic,more Graphic than any of thier other Nightmares. After that,they only get a couple of short Nightmares here and there. It's strange,because the Nightmares go from every night to every week toevery month. They only get a lucid one once in a while,and whereas before they couldn't wake up,they now wake up at random points. You know those "falling from a building" dreams,where you wake up just before your body hits the floor? Yeah like those dreams

-Plenty of people find Kaeyas "Death" suspicious,but no one can figure out why.

-Jean is one of the most suspicious,considering Kaeya went from fine one day,to having his deactivated,bloody vison the next. She does try to figure out what happened,but even though the evidence isn't adding up,she can't pursue answers. Mostly because of her own fear and guilt,and mostly because of the fact that she didn't even consider the Abyss.

-I don't know too much lore,but I imagine the Aybss twin is confused. It's like that one scene in the lion king "everywhere the light touches is our kingdom",except the Aybss is technically the Aybss twins kingdom. The Aybss pathway is "what the light doesn't touch." So Reader is getting chased for trespassing in the twins kingdom,but they only get chased as far as the pathway. Because "no one survives the pathway in one piece". Honestly,not even reader knows how they survived the pathway. (They didn't,but that's an explanation for another post)

-lots of people look for the truth,and they try to look for his body,yet they don't succeed. Plenty come close,but unfortunately,not close enough.

-As many people are suspicious,many just accept it as a fact of life. Some are suspicious but decide not to question it.

-I think that in an effort to protect thier nations (in the final stretch,when Tevyat is truly dying past saving),archons either

A. Try to get thier gnosis back

B. Give thier gnosis up to the fatui,in an attempt to get help/resources

-Venti in particular knows what's going on. He knows where "Kaeya" went,but decided not to go after him. What a big mistake that was.

#kaeya reader body swap au #♡mist answer's<3♡#sagau #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau

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drsteggy · 1 year

Note

🌻🧿💝

For the ask game

Thanks, sun. I’d say oh going for the jugular here but I believe that’s actually the carotid

🌻what makes you want to give up on writing? What makes you keep going?

I enjoy interacting with fandom because I want people to scream with. I want to give up when I spend a lot of time on a thing and I go hey check this out! And everyone is kinda eh and they go back to what they were doing. It’s so hard to get people to interact with written stuff.

I can spend hours making a cosplay thing, and when I post an image lots of people will comment on it. When I post a story I get a lot of crickets and it’s frustrating as fuck for me. I don’t think I’ve done a great job making connections among other writers, and I really don’t know what to do about it. Add this to the imposter syndrome they install at grad school and I then do a number on myself. You have no idea how many times I’ve been very close to just orphaning my AO3 account and vanishing.

What keeps me going? I still tell myself stories and I still play with things and I write it down and move it around. Sometimes it comes together. I try to think of it as more of an exercise so I can distance myself from needing outside validation, but being the oldest kid and considered gifted also installed some weird praise kink that only recently become aware of - I have a history of being frustrated at work when I don’t get recognized for doing things well (but every misstep gets magnified)

I’m a really competitive person. That isn’t bad by itself. But I do better when I have a thing where I can compete with myself- so, when I run I can compare myself to past metrics. When I compete in cosplay, I can look at other people in my division and do a pretty good job knowing where my skills will fall and learning what I need to practice. With writing…I have no idea what I’m doing well or badly or why something gets received the way it does since it feels like I release stuff into the void.

I do have a much healthier relationship to it than I did in 2020 but it’s a work in progress.

🧿 what steps do you take to not take things personally if a fic doesn’t do well, or if your writing/sharing experience isn’t going how you’d like it?

I don’t hawk my stats.

I have a really low bar about what “well” means. I write mostly in a personal AU and I write a lot of genfic. Neither of those get read the way popular pairings in popular versions of characters get read- it’s not typically what I read, either. So if I have a piece that gets a hundred hits, I’m thrilled. Almost everything I have has gotten there.

I also go review what has done well. There are a couple things that seem more popular than I thought they should be so I scratch my head about that. I chuckle over that one smut thing I wrote that gets hits every goddam day. I reread comments that really touched me. Like, I wrote a fic about a miscarriage and I have gotten some really touching feedback about it.

And I take breaks.

💝 what is a fic that got a different response than you were expecting?

Actually, it would be that fic I just mentioned, The Risk of Love. It’s back story on my version of Zelda, so it’s set in an AU, and it’s told as a character thinks about an incident that happened long before the first fic….and it happens long after that fic. The topic is not for everyone. Like I wrote it because I felt I had to, and I loved how it came out but I was like no one is gonna read this and I don’t care.

And people read it. Someone read it fandom blind, and like….blind and fourteen levels down a rabbit hole AU and they still took time to say how it affected them, even though they did not get everything going on. I got messaged on Reddit about it.

Original post here

#answered asks #writing ask game #unmasked cardinal

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dreamerstreamer · 3 years

Text

Human GPS

Pairing: c!Technoblade x f!reader

Summary: [Dream SMP!AU] Technoblade really needs some books of mending, and you just happen to be the daughter of the village cleric.

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: this a repost of the first ever story i posted when i first made my blog. this story takes place back when technoblade was still allied with pogtopia. i hope you like it as much as i did! <3

Technoblade blinked, his eyes squinting up at the clear, cerulean sky. It was about midday now, and the beating sun sat in the center of the sky, almost taunting him from where it hung.

If the sun is directly above me, he thought, then west must be… He frowned. Somewhere. Maybe.

He groaned and swung his legs off of Carl, the horse letting out a soft whinny as he hopped onto the ground. He had been travelling for what must have been close to an hour now, and he still hadn’t found a village. It was almost like the universe was trying to waste his time. All he wanted was to get his hands on some books of mending so he didn’t have to worry about any of his armour breaking, yet the world was sending him on a wild goose chase, anyways.

“Seriously,” he muttered, irritation gnawing away at his already dwindling patience, “how hard can it be to find just one cleric? It’s not like I’m asking to find a woodland mansion, or something.”

Letting out yet another long groan, Technoblade flipped open the pack he attached to Carl’s saddle. He pulled out a baked potato and bit in, allowing himself a few seconds of relief as he ate.

For a brief moment, he considered digging through his bag to look for a compass or—better yet—a map. But then he remembered that just prior to leaving, he had reminded himself that he was a human GPS and that “Technoblade never fails.”

He sighed. No compass, it is.

He took another bite of the potato in his hands, looking around at the terrain around him. There was a lush birch forest to his left and a barren desert on the opposite side. Just a little to his right was a river and—

Wait a second.

Technoblade froze, his jaw freezing halfway through chewing another bite of potato.

He recognized that river.

A wide grin split across his lips.

He totally knew where to find a village.

Doing his best not to choke, Technoblade stuffed the rest of the baked potato in his mouth and buckled his pack shut. With a grunt, he pulled himself back onto Carl, picking up the reins. “Like I said, Carl, who even needs a compass? I’ve got the map memorized, and my inner compass is perfectly calibrated.”

Carl looked back at him and let out an almost sarcastic sounding neigh that seemed to say, “Sure.”

Technoblade’s face rolled his eyes. He snapped the reins once, and Carl charged forward.

The human GPS never failed.

You let out an ecstatic cry as you pushed the last book in your hands onto the creaky bookshelf, stepping back to look at your work in pride. You’d been organizing the library for a little over half the day now, and you were almost finished. Each shelf was now in alphabetical order.

Dusting off your skirt, you took one last glance at the shelves before settling down at the table in the corner of the room, looking over the to-do list you had set out for yourself the night before. “Let’s see,” you hummed to yourself, “I already dusted all the tabletops, mopped the floor, and delivered that order to Mr. Hart. Now I can check ‘organize bookshelves’ off the list, too.”

You set the quill down on the table. “Meanwhile, dad’s out trading with Mrs. Lee and said he would be back soon.” You stared down at the page for a moment longer before sighing. A frown etched itself onto your features. You leaned your elbows on the oak tabletop as your gaze trailed out the church window and up at the cloudless sky.

You had lived in the village your whole life with your father, the village cleric. Everything was peaceful and you loved the familiar environment you resided in, but things had also become so… boring in the village. So bland, so dull. You can’t even remember the last time you did something fun. Sure, you were productive and made sure to help your father around his workspace the best you could, but you wanted more than this.

Please, you thought to yourself, squeezing your eyes shut in a silent prayer. Please, please, please let something new and exciting happen. At least just once in my life.

All of a sudden, you heard a distant rumbling.

You sat up straight, blinking awake from your reverie. What’s that sound?

The rumbling grew louder, and you could now recognize it as the galloping of a horse. Your thoughts were only confirmed by the loud whinny you heard right after the rumbles stopped.

You pushed your chair back, standing up from the table and walking over to the front window, crouching down to peek outside. You squinted, your eyes scanning around outside before they landed on an unfamiliar shape.

Your heart suddenly barrelled over in your chest.

Sitting atop a horse wearing diamond armour in the center of the village square was a stranger.

His back was facing you, but from what you could see of him, the first thing you noticed was the crimson robe hanging off his shoulders, cascading down his back like a scarlet waterfall. An axe was strapped to his back, tinted with a murky, violet hue. His hair was a vibrant shade of cherry blossom pink like nothing you had ever laid eyes on before, and on his head sat a golden crown encrusted with glittering gems. You wondered what his face looked like, curiosity bubbling in your chest.

Just then, he slid off his horse, landing on the ground with a small thump. He stood tall and proud, turning his head this way and that as he looked around at the houses around him, an air of regality surrounding him.

Then, he turned.

Your eyes only met for a fraction of a second before you immediately ducked down, hiding your figure from view in the window. The moment you were out of sight, you stilled, doing your best not to give yourself away.

He was handsome.

His face was calm and demure, reflecting his royal air almost perfectly, and his eyes, like his robe, were a piercing crimson red. They almost seemed to stare into your soul, laying every part of yourself bare for him to see.

He looked like a king in every sense of the word, and you just had to meet him.

Your heart was thrumming wildly in your chest as you struggled to regain your breath. You peeked over the windowsill carefully, glancing past the glass outside once more. The stranger had tied his horse to a post in the square and was walking around, glancing at the villagers here and there. Most of them seemed to be slightly wary of him—after all, it wasn’t everyday a king showed up at your doorstep. He seemed to be looking for something with the way he kept looking around him, his eyes sweeping over every inch of the village. Perhaps you could help him.

Slowly, you slid away from the windowsill and carefully clicked open the front door, stepping outside. The sun shone brilliantly on your face as you made your way toward the stranger. Once again, his back was turned to you, and you stopped a few feet behind him. Taking a deep breath, you mustered up what courage you had before speaking.

“Hello.”

The man turned at the sudden sound of your voice, his scarlet eyes piercing into yours. “Oh, hello.” His voice was deep, laced with a low rasp that sent a shiver down your spine.

Your offered him a warm smile. “Welcome to our humble village. I’m [Y/N].” You extended your hand, and he took it in a friendly handshake, smiling back.

“The name’s Technoblade.”

Your eyebrows quirked. “Technoblade,” you repeated. “That’s a unique name.”

“Thanks,” he said, jokingly adding, “I got it for my birthday.”

You giggled at that. He may look regal and intimidating, but right off the bat, it seemed that his personality was far from it. “You know what they say, a bad joke is always the best way to leave a good first impression.”

He frowned, feigning sadness. “Oh, c’mon, it wasn’t that bad.”

Your lips twitched. “Well, I laughed at it, so I’ll give you that.” His face lit up once more, and you felt your stomach churn with warmth. “Well, what brings you here?”

He gestured to the pack he had clipped to his belt. “Just looking to do a few trades, really.”

You looked at him in confusion. “A king? Trading with commoners like us?”

He blinked for a moment. “Ah, about that, I’m not really a king, per se.” He plucked his crown from off his head, tossing it casually in his hands. “The crown and robes are more for… aesthetic purposes, to say the least. I don’t really rule over my own country or anything.

Your tilted your head at him. “Where do you come from, then? I can only imagine you travelled for a while to get here.”

He shrugged. “It was kind of far, but it wasn’t a big deal, really. I never got lost.”

You raised your eyebrows at him. “Never?” you said.

“Never,” he confirmed. His grinned smugly, your heart reeling at the sight. “I’m a human GPS, if you will.”

You stifled a laugh but couldn’t hide your smile. What a dork. “Totally.”

His grin only widened. “Anyways, I’m from this place called Pogtopia.” You must have made a face at his words, because he laughed at you and god, even his laugh was pretty. “Yeah, it’s kind of a funny name, isn’t it? Well, I didn’t come up with it. My friends Tommy and Wilbur did.”

“They must be…” You looked for a good word. “…interesting people.”

He laughed. “It’s okay—you’re allowed to say they have bad taste in names.”

You giggled, your cheeks flushing in slight embarrassment. “Okay, yeah, their taste is pretty poor.” You glanced at him. “Are they the kings of your country then, since they named it?”

“Kind of. I guess you could call them kings, but they’re more like self-instated presidents, even though that kind of defeats the whole purpose of having a president.” You nodded, following along in agreement. “They’re trying to win back some land they were exiled from a while back called L’Manberg, although it was recently renamed Manberg, but there’s also Dream and his SMP, and—” He sighed, running a hand through his rosy locks. “It’s complicated. Basically, we’re sort of in the middle of this war, and I just kind of got roped into it.”

Your eyes widened in alarm. “A war?! Surely we wouldn’t get involved, right?” Your village, like many others, was a pacifist group of people, having no source of defense or battle skills to protect yourselves with. If this supposed war came all the way to your little village, all of you would surely perish.

Technoblade raised his arms in front of him, quickly shaking his head. “Oh, definitely not. You’ve got nothing to worry about, I swear.”

You pressed a hand to your chest as you let out a breath of relief. “Oh, thank goodness.” Technoblade smiled at you from the corner of your eye, amusement lacing his lips. You suddenly straightened, another thought popping into your head. “What about you, then? Aren’t you worried?”

He laughed again, though it sounded more like a cackle. “Me? Worried? Nahhh.” He swung his axe off his back, being careful to point it away from you. “I may not look like it, but I’m actually one of the most feared warriors in the land. Tommy and Wilbur basically begged me to join their side so I can help them win.” He gestured to himself. “You don’t have to believe me, but I think it’s pretty clear to see I’m pretty much a god at PVP.”

You hummed, shaking your head. “No, I believe you. You do look like you could seriously teach someone a thing or two with that axe, but I really don’t think I need to feed your ego anymore.” You smiled bemusedly. “It already seems to be quite large on its own.”

His grin dropped. “Wait, please, feed my ego, I thrive off complime—”

A giggle escaped your mouth as you waved your hand at him. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” Your expression grew a bit more serious. “But honestly, you’re not scared? Even a little?”

Technoblade shook his head. “Nope. A war is just a lot of fights lined up one after the other, and I’m great at winning fights. Heck, I could probably wipe out the other side in a heartbeat with what I’ve got in my arsenal. Tommy and Wilbur might just send me out by myself to do just that.”

“They would?” you said in disbelief. “Aren’t they worried for you, either?”

He snorted. “They were the ones who wanted me here to help them win, so they definitely aren’t worried.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. Well, that was no good—no good at all. Wasn’t a single person concerned for this man’s safety, not even just one? No matter how powerful he may be, this was a war you two were talking about, and wars don’t always go according to plan.

Suddenly, it hit you.

“I see,” you murmured. You raised your chin, resolve filling your veins. “Then I’ll worry for you.”

Technoblade stared at you for a long moment, stunned into silence. Panicking, you began to ramble. “You and your friends may have overwhelming confidence in you and your abilities,” you said, “but it’s still important that you recognize that sometimes things don’t go according to plan. That’s why you should worry, and if you won’t, then I’ll do it in your stead.”

When he still didn’t say anything after yet another moment, you felt embarrassment rise up in you. “I’m sorry, we just met and that was totally uncalled for of m—”

“No, no, really,” he abruptly said, shaking his head. “It’s all good. Seriously.” There was a slight pause. Then, he softly added, “Thank you. I appreciate your concern.”

His lips curled to form a smile, but this one was different from the ones he gave you before. Those ones were proud and teasing, full of mirth and some level of arrogance. But this one was softer, kinder. More genuine and real.

You liked this one more.

Still feeling slightly embarrassed from having just rambled about caring about a near stranger to his face, you quickly shifted gears. “W-Well, I should probably ask what exactly you wanted to trade for,” you said as your cheeks flushed pink. You lowered your gaze to the ground, trying to avert your eyes from his. “I can probably help you find whatever it is you need.”

Technoblade hummed. “I have a bunch of stuff with me that I can use to trade, but I’m looking for a cleric to get some mending books from.”

Your head shot up in recognition. “A cleric, you say?” Your lips curled into a small grin when he nodded. “I know just where to find him. Wait here for a minute, okay?”

As soon as he nodded his head once more, you had already taken off, bounding down the grassy path with your skirt trailing behind you. Technoblade’s gaze followed you as you rushed down the path, a pleasant warmth bubbling in the pit of stomach and he watched you run off.

Usually whenever he came to a village, the people he met were wary of him and hardly ever spoke more than the bare minimum to him. Most of them were intimidated by his appearance, others thrown off by his cockiness. And yet here you were, treating him like a friend when so many before you had done the exact opposite. You were kind, compassionate, and you saw more than just his arrogant exterior. You genuinely cared for the person he was underneath the crown and the robes. Not to mention, you were quite the sight for sore eyes.

Warmth blossomed in his chest and something fluttered in his stomach.

He was glad he came to this village.

To say your father was more than pleased to trade some books of mending for the stacks upon stacks of emeralds Technoblade had was an understatement.

“I thought you said you weren’t a king,” you said to him, your eyes nearly bulging out of your head when you saw him open his pack.

“I’m not,” Technoblade said, twirling an emerald between his fingers. “I just happen to be very wealthy.”

You shook your head at him, a smile gracing your lips. “You’re a maniac.”

He shot you a smug look. “Oh, don’t I know it.”

After he had traded for some mending books with your father, he had asked you if your village had a fletcher.

“Oh, I made a delivery to Mr. Hart earlier today,” you said. “Here, follow me.”

The trek to the other side of the village was short enough, and you were content to wait on the sides while Technoblade made some negotiations. Just then, Mrs. Lee spotted you and strode up to you.

“Good afternoon, [Y/N],” she greeted, her lips tilting into a familiar gentle smile.

“Hello, Mrs. Lee!” you chirped happily, turning to face her. “Thank you for the pumpkins, earlier today! I’ll be sure to give you some of the pumpkin pie I bake tomorrow.”

“Why, there’s no need for you to do that, dear.” She leaned close to your ear to whisper, “You know you’re my favourite of the youngins here.”

You blushed. “You know that’s not true.”

She held a finger to her lips. “It’s our little secret, alright?” She looked over your shoulder at Technoblade, who was still debating with Mr. Hart. “Looks like you’ve become acquainted with our visitor, haven’t you, dear?”

Your blush deepened. “Y-Yes! I have. His name is Technoblade and he comes from a country called Pogtopia. He traded for some books with my father just now.”

Mrs. Lee wrinkled her nose. “Weird name, the both of them, but never mind that.” She smirked at you, glancing just behind you. “He’s quite the looker, isn’t he?”

Your face exploded like a bright red tomato. “I-I, um, he’s. Um.” You took a deep breath and fanned your face, lowering your voice. “He’s handsome.”

Her smirk only grew larger. “I hope the two of you become even more acquainted then,” she said cryptically, patting your shoulder. “I’ll be on my way now, but do let me know how it goes, okay?”

You nodded dutifully, too embarrassed to say anything else. Mrs. Lee turned away and continued her way down the grassy path, smiling to herself.

If only you had seen the way he had looked at you.

Hours had passed since Technoblade had first arrived in the village, and the sun was just beginning to set. The two of you had visited just about every working person in the village, chatting away as Technoblade traded for whatever he needed from each person you two saw.

The two of you learned a lot about each other in the time you spent together. You learned that Technoblade wasn’t a huge fan of government and much preferred anarchy. He learned that you longed for something much more than your normal life in the village, but you had yet to discover what it was you wanted to do. You learned that he owned a dog named Floof. He learned the location of your favourite spot in the village. By the end of the day, it felt like you two had known each other for ages.

You secretly hoped that he would stay, but you knew that he couldn’t. The village wasn’t his home, after all.

You stood nearby as Technoblade strapped his pack back onto Carl’s saddle, chewing the inside of your lip. He climbed onto Carl, securing his axe on his back and picking up the reins in his hands. “Well, [Y/N],” he said, a hint of disappointment tinging his voice, “it looks like this is goodbye.”

“I guess so,” you murmured sadly, casting your gaze down at your feet. You had only known him for so long, but an overwhelming sense of loss filled you knowing that Technoblade was leaving and may very well never return. He was funny with his dry, dorky sense of humour and charming with his sharp grins and deep voice.

You weren’t sure you were quite ready to let go just yet.

“Um,” you spoke up, your voice cracking a little, “will you…” You peeked up at him, nervously biting the inside of your cheek as you fiddled with your fingers. “Will you ever come back?”

Something in Technoblade’s chest seized at the shy look on your face, your cheeks rosy and your gaze darting back and forth between his eyes and the ground. While he had originally only come in search of this village to trade with a cleric, he supposed he might always need more mending books in the future. Not to mention, he would also get to see you.

He smiled, letting out a soft laugh. “Yeah,” he said, “I’ll be back, so wait up for me, yeah?”

Your eyes lit up and an elated grin spread across your face. “I-I will!”

He chuckled at your giddiness, his own heart beating wildly against his rib cage. “Good.”

Sharing one last look with you, he snapped his reins and held on tight as Carl dashed forward, his gaze trailing behind him as he watched you wave your arms frantically at him. He couldn’t help but crack a smile at your enthusiasm, raising his arm to wave back at you himself. He kept waving until he could no longer see you, and only then did he face forward to find his way home.

The journey back was significantly shorter than the trip to the village, and before he knew it, he was tying Carl to his usual fence post. He was a human GPS, after all. How else would he have found the village—and you—with so much ease?

He tilted his head up, looking up at the rising moon in the east. Now he knew that the village (and you, his heart helpfully supplied once more) lay to the west, just beyond the birch forest, desert, and river. Above him, he could make out the shapes of a handful of constellations, the stars twinkling and winking down at him from space. He wondered if you were looking up at the same starry sky as him. He wondered if your stomach was full of butterflies, too.

“So,” he mused to himself aloud, his heart thump-thump-thumping in his chest, “[Y/N], huh?”

He was definitely going back.

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unoriginalmess · 3 years

Text

A Second Mask: Chapter 4

Did that just happen?

Hello guys! It's me. I'm finally writing again. Sorry about the delay. I'm going to explain more at the end of the chapter, but I'm just going to keep the beginning short. So here is chapter 4:

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To say Adrien was concerned would be a huge understatement. He was downright disturbed. Its been weeks and still Marinette hadn't changed back to the happy, peppy, nice girl that he knew. AND SHE WOULDN'T EVEN TALK TO HIM ABOUT IT!

He tried to talk to her for a whole week after her original trasformation, but after the repeated firm rejections, he stopped altogether. He figured that maybe with some space, she might be able to work through whatever she was going through, but at this point, he's losing hope.

When he is feeling this distressed about something, he usually turns to his lady, but she has been acting weird too. Ever since she suggested they start sparring, she's started to show that she is going through kinda a rough time as well. She is the same ladybug when everyone is watching, but when it's just the two of them, she looks sad and tired. She has also started saying some concerning things while they are sparring. She has started talking about how she has started taking being Ladybug and the Guardian more seriously, and how she has less distractions now, which would be a good thing if she didn't say them so sadly.

The good thing is, the sparring has given him a chance to get out his aggression because of the whole Marinette-situation and his anger at his father in a safe environment. He didn't like the idea of hitting Ladybug at first (especially in the face) but with her not holding back on her hits, he felt more comfortable doing the same. It has helped them fight better too. He hopes that whatever Ladybug is going through in her civillian life will work itself out soon, but until then he will be there for her. He just needs to figure out how to be there for Marinette.

•••

Felix was making good progress with Marinette. After they first asked marinette about (insert fashion question of your choice here, I legit know nothing and I didn't have time to research anything for this chapter), she had started answering their questions on a daily basis. After a couple of days of that, she had started to rant to them about different things in the fashion world that were bothering her, exciting her, or confusing her that particular day. In response to that, they had started to respond to her rants with their own opinions on the subjects and even start their own rants.

It had gotten to the point where Felix would now consider them to be friends, though they know that Marinette would never call them as such, it was fine with them. They know she has trust issues, and they can understand why, so they are fine with being friends in everything but a name.

Felix was looking forward to their daily banter as they waited in their seat for Marinette to arrive. When she did, she was followed by a very pissed-looking Alya. Felix turned to look at her and noticed that she had what looked to be tears forming in her eyes. What they didn't notice was the little black butterfly that had entered through the window in the back of the room, and was making a beeline towards her.

•••

Marinette walked to school in yet another one of her newest fashion creations: a pair of oversized grey ripped jeans and a navy blue sweatshirt. She was actually really liking her new look, and the comfort that it offered was just an added plus.

She was actually feeling excited to talk to Felix about Gabriel Agreste's newest fashion flop. They were the only person that she had met that actually cared about fashion as much as her. It made her happy to talk to them. It kind of scared her how excited she was. Shouldn't she be distancing herself from everyone? she thought to herself. No. Felix isn't my friend, they aren't close to me, they are just someone I talk fashion with. Like a coworker, yeah. Totally. Felix is just a coworker. ("Liar" says the inner voice in her head)

She was shocked out of her thoughts when she was pulled to the side by someone as she entered the courtyard. Her mind immediately thought of an akuma, when the person spoke.

"Marinette! Girl," Oh it's just Alya. Wait Alya? "How long are you gonna keep up this cry for attention? Are you really THAT jealous of Lila? I know that Adrien likes her, but that doesn't give you the right to act like this! And you are hanging out with Felix, who accused her of sexually harrassing Adrien on their first day here-?" She looked absolutely furious at her, but Marinette had heard enough. She cut Alya off in the middle of her presumably long rant.

"ALYA!" Said girl jumped at both the inturruption and the tone of voice used, "First of all, this isn't a cry for attention, if anything its a cry for leaving me the fuck alone. Second of all, I'm not jealous of Lila. I'm not in love with Adrien anymore, and haven't been for a while. You knew that I was dating Luka right? Why would I care who Adrien likes? Lastly, I am allowed to hang out with whoever I choose, whether you like them or not. It's none of your fucking business Alya, and if you think that I'm just some jealous, attention-seeker why do you even care?" With that last question she stormed off to the classroom, leaving a speechless Alya behind her.

When marinette sat down in her seat, she just kept thinking about how Alya was just talking to her. How could she think that about her? They used to be best friends, and Alya wasn't even concerned about her not talking to her anymore, she was just concerned about her being "jealous of Lila". It made her so furious that she could feel tears trickling down her face. She sees the black butterfly out of the corner of her eye and without hesitation grabs it out of the air.

(Next part is taken from this post by @bigfatbreak)

"Go ahead and akumatize me- See what happens, Hawkmoth!" She screamed the words with a slight madness that the energy of the akuma was giving her, "Every leash has two ends! I just have to pull until I find where you're holding it!"

At this point, the entire class was frozen in place watching her and listening to her crazed-sounding voice threaten an actual terrorist. Marinette felt Hawkmoth's confusion and terror through the bond. What in the- She's sensing me through the Akuma?! The akuma then started to fly away, and when it couldn't it zapped her hand like it was made of lightning and fluttered through the same window it came from. Marinette felt like she had failed yet again and collapsed down on her desk, muttering, "Uuuuggghh. It escaped anyway... What a waste. I didn't realize that Hawkmoth was such a coward. He usually likes grandstand..."

She was startled when her hand was picked up by Felix's, "You likely scared him off by managing to locate him like that... A risky move, I should mention. I would ask that you not attempt that a second time. No one knows what his akuma is truly capable of. You'll want to keep off of this hand for a while, too."

"Oh, are those the doctor's orders? Why, Felix, it almost sounds like you care about meeee." Marinette was all too amused by Felix's concern for her. She also liked to tease them... AS COWORKERS DO.

"I have an investment in your presence. Now don't be cheeky and let's get you to the nurse's office," They said while holding her wrist and gently pulling her in that direction.

Marinette scoffed, "'An investment in my presence'??"

Felix chuckled while still semi-dragging her by the wrist towards the front of the room, being careful not to hurt her injury even worse, "What did I just say about being cheeky?"

On their way out of the door they passed a VERY distressed-looking Adrien. He seemed to be sharing the sentiment with the entire class of: Did that just happen?

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And thats chapter 4. It is VERY LATE! I know. I've been swamped with work, and when I went to write it, I had zero ideas on how to write this chapter. I never ended up getting those ideas. I just went where my writing took me, so if it doesn't really match the characters that's why. I will try to be better at updating regularly, but it probably won't happen. Sorry to everyone with a normal sleep schedule, but this is the time that I write things. Also I didn't have my outline with me while writing this chapter, so it might not have everything I planned to write in it.

I would like to thank you all for all of the support I've been getting on this fic. Despite all of the chapter delays, you guys have stuck with me through all of it, so thank each and every one of you. I love seeing so many people loving this au as much as I do. Without you guys this story wouldn't exist, and I would've stopped writing it after the first chapter.

As always, constructive criticism is always accepted. I love being able to improve my writing whenever possible.

Thank you for reading. Have a nice day/night/whenever you are reading this. See ya next time guys, gals, and non-binary pals.

Taglist

@queer-illusion @apasponsor @heckinggremlin @1-ahiro-1 @hewantedbeefintheparkinglot @sassakitty @lennauts @rianoel @dorkus-minimus @khneltea @welp-that-was-unexpected @mlnchlymrshmllw @lovelyautumnsunflower @chariphrasis @lovesbooks @komatsuna-yuki @polyvirnl @innocentlyguiltyfrenchfry @qhobias @ive-tumbled-down-a-rabbit-hole @hammalammadamdam @cloudydaysomewhere @alcoholic-barney @basenikon @xxbehindthemaskxx @corporeal-terrestrial @shadowymemoirs @moonlight-densetsuu

#a second mask #feralnette #feralnette au #felinette #miraculous ladybug #ml fanfic #adrien agreste #felix culpa #marinette dupain cheng #here it finally is #idk why some of the tags arent working

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butterbeerblurbs · 2 years

Text

not alone (full of love) (f.w.)

💌: the weasleys’ has always welcomed you in their family. now, they’re welcoming your father together, too. 📝word count: 938 words / fred weasley x reader / 🌸 wholesome fluff / very much inspired by this reblog by @lilypad-55449 ✨ 💬: part of the dandelion!au/ff that i wrote but can be read as a stand-alone thing! (also good god this was... a long long time coming for this but i managed to brush it up to post! so sorry for the long wait!)

since that day fred visited your father in your home, he’s been talking non-stop about it. almost gushing over how great that dinner (and brownies) was. it was as if fred created a badge and slapped it on his forehead, wearing it wherever he went. he was that proud of it.

so much that he had proposed the idea for you to bring him to the burrow.

if fred’s being completely honest, he didn’t know how your father managed to do it. to lose the love of their life and to continue living on to be happy, to take care of another through it all; to raise them up to be a good person and have a heart of gold? fred didn’t think it was possible. yet your father proved every one of those to be wrong when he’s in love with you.

you, who made the world feel like a better place. not just a ray of light but the whole sun itself. radiating with warmth and spreading kindness the best way you could. it was only fair that your father received that same amount of love if not more. it’s the least (he thinks) he can offer considering he’s been nothing but loving and welcoming towards him since you introduced him to your father as your boyfriend.

it was like a movie coming to reality, sucking your father in for the whole experience he wasn’t prepared for. after finding his rooting to the ground from apparating, he tries to take in the humble abode of the weasleys’.

to say he was flustered would be an understatement. fumbling over his feet, bumping into things, trying to comprehend the amount of people under the same roof as him. he first meets arthur who shakes his hand, pulling him into a hug almost immediately. followed by molly who stands by the door to greet him.

they usher all of you in and the night starts for you... but more for your father as you watch him light up at the company he’s surrounded with. from receiving hugs from everyone to being seated by the dinner table; getting to answer all of arthur’s curiosities of being a muggle and in return understanding more of the wizarding world, it made your heart full.

fred watches as you watch your father receive the love he deserves. since the passing of your mother, you hadn’t seem him quite like this. to be as radiant as he once was; to reflect the love he’s been given. fred has to hold back from tearing up when he swears he sees the tears welling up in your eyes the second molly slides over a neatly wrapped package in front of him after dinner is digested.

all eyes are on your father as he raises both brows, looking to molly for the answer.

“go on,” molly points with her eyes, “open it! made it myself. i’ll have you know, no magic involved.”

your father turns to you with his mouth agape, “lion?”

you nod excitedly, clamping down onto fred’s hand in your grip, ushering him silently.

he looks down to the package, seeing his name written in cursive on top. he unties the ribbon and strings holding the wrapper together, slowly revealing a gorgeous maroon shade jumper with your father’s initial sewn in the middle. the look on your father’s face is indescribable as everyone holds in their breath.

there’s a small pout on his face as he pulls out the jumper, holding it up to witness it in its’ glory. when he lowers it back down to the table, you watch as your father lovingly brushes his fingertips over each stitch with warmth. you knew how emotional it would make him; your mother shared the same sentiment of hand-making things and anything hand-made would make your father bawl his eyes out.

not now, though.

the few stray of tears that manage to slip past gets everyone sucking in their breath as your father laughs it off. you offer your hand to your father, giving him a tight squeeze when he meets your teary eyes with his. it’s a silent moment; a blissful and beautiful one that reminds everyone the importance of family. almost immediately after, your father rushes to put it on and soon laughter erupts as the bright and cheerful chatter ensues.

through your father’s eyes, this... this was beyond the abilities of magic. this was simply the connection of humans and he was eternally grateful knowing you had the comfort from another family while you were away from home. one home to another, the restless nights of him wondering if you were doing okay suddenly made sense seeing how you interact with your friends, then to fred who hasn’t left your side since–in present and in the past–smiling at you like you were the world and it reminds him of himself; because he knew he used to smile at your mother the same way.

through fred’s eyes, this was the magic right here. you and your father, intertwined with his family. when you turn to look at him and offer him a small smile, he swears he sees himself in your eyes, in your future, much like the view he imagines his future to look like. then he looks over your shoulder and sees how happy your father is to be in the company of many who welcomes him and shares this connection of warmth with him. it makes him feel at ease, his heart blooming a field of dandelions but really, all he ever needs is one.

and it’s right here with him.

#fred weasley fanfics #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fic #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley fanfiction #hp fanfics #hp fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter fanfics #ff: dandelions

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undertale-data · 3 years

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[Image Description: An Undertale chat box that has “WHY FANS LOVE UNDERTALE” at its center. Next to it are a line chart and an Egg from the Dating Hub on its left, and a CRIME measurer (also from the Dating Hub) on its right. End I.D.]

[Image Description: a pie chart titled, “LEVEL OF LOVE FOR UNDERTALE.” The textbox on the top right reads, “On a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being the least and 10 being the highest, how much do fans enjoy Undertale?” From the top going clockwise, 12 or 0% chose 5 and below; 23 or 1% chose 6; 98, or 4%, chose 7; 325, or 12%, chose 8; 529, or 20%, chose 9; and 1664, or 63%, chose 10. End I.D.]

It’s clear from all of the data analyzed so far that fans who took the time to answer our survey love Undertale. It is unlikely that they would have taken the time to answer so many questions if they had not, and even less likely that they would have come across our survey in the first place. Naturally, it comes as no surprise that 63% of our responders gave their love for Undertale a score of ten out of ten. 95% gave their love for Undertale a score of eight or higher, and only 12 responders responded with five or below, a number so small that their responses had to be lumped together to be visible on the pie chart. Of those, only 3 responders gave their love for Undertale a score of 1, and based on those responders’ other answers, it is likely that they were only intending to troll. We are very fortunate that the vast majority of responders took the survey seriously, enough so that responses like this are barely a blip in the data.

Now, for our final analysis post of the event, we will delve into the reasons that fans love Undertale so dearly.

(Essay and highlights under the cut.)

There have been countless essays on the impact that Undertale has had on people’s lives. I can hardly add more on the subject than what has already been said, but I hope this summary can provide a brief overview of what stood out among the over two thousand answers given in response to this survey. That said, due to the sheer volume of answers, I could not read every single one in depth—however, I did skim all of them, and some that stood out or were representative of several responses have been highlighted below. If you would like to see what every fan who consented to share their response had to say, you may view the full list of responses here. Note that these responses have not been edited in any way. This document may take a long time to load, as it is over 100 pages long.

(Warnings for mentions of suicidal thoughts in the following essay.)

Several responders loved the theme of choices mattering in Undertale. Whether people played the pacifist, merciless, or neutral routes, they enjoyed how the game reacted to their actions. For some, it even made them consider their own morality. One touching response explained the impact that the theme of mercy made on them. “I realized that Mercy isn't something that's given to those who deserve it. Flowey didn't deserve it. I don't deserve it myself. Shoot, we ALL need Mercy in our lives.” Many fans left similar comments about how the themes of Undertale made them better people.

Undertale changed how its fans treat others, and it also changed how fans treat themselves. The theme of staying determined and the messages of hope in the game were a light to a very large portion of fans. I cannot list all of the fans who said that Undertale helped them out of a dark place, or that they would not be alive if not for Undertale. “DETERMINATION became a metaphor for not killing myself at a really rough time in my life and I’ll always cherish that. Undertale isn’t afraid to go to really dark places but at the same time holds on so tight to its hope.”

Undertale brought fans together in unexpected ways. Some said they met friends or significant others through the fandom. “I wouldn't have met my now husband without Undertale,” one fan said. A different fan who is non-native English speaking mentioned that the game and the fan community helped them to learn English.

It would be impossible to discuss Undertale without mentioning the fan community. Whether for good or bad, many responders mentioned the fandom in their responses. Overall the feelings towards the fandom seem positive, though many made references to “toxic” parts of the fandom without specifying which parts they consider toxic. Others rejected the idea of toxicity in fandom. One response said: “[SLAMS FIST ON DESK] I KNOW MOST PEOPLE SAY THE FANDOM IS TOXIC AND CRINGE OR WHATEVER BUT OH MY GOD. The Undertale fandom, both the UTMV and the actual UT fandom, has been so much fun to be a part of. I've met countless friends because of our shared interest in something related to the game! The art people create can be breathtaking and so inspirational, and the fanfics are so so good!! I've seen people write incredible things for this fandom and it's what made me continue writing!”

One thing that makes the Undertale fandom unique is the way it embraces various AUs. Some fans are tired of AU content, but the majority of responses show a love for the creativity behind AUs. “Roll your eyes at the 50th AU Sans all you want, it's encouraging people to step outside the boundaries of fanart and pushing people to make their own ideas! I mean, hell, it was how I gained the confidence to start making my own original content.” The lack of a judgemental atmosphere seems present in the AU community, according to the responses we saw. There is an interesting balance between AU and canon (sometimes referred to as “classic”) content that another responder pointed out: “The fandom helped keep the game alive all these years, with all of its AUs. Although personally, I always enjoyed AUs that kept characters as close to the classic material as possible (dancetale, outertale) I do appreciate the creativity of the fandom. They almost created entirely new stories with new characters of their own! If it weren't for those people, the Undertale fandom would have probably not been as active as it is now. I do feel like we're getting a resurgence of classic content now too! (In 2021)”

Regardless of the many AUs the fandom has created over the years, the original game of Undertale still feels like home for many fans. They wished they could reclaim the feeling of playing the game again for the first time, but even though we can’t reset time in real life, there is still a special feeling for fans each time they play Undertale. One fan said, “Even the best fics I've read can't capture that feeling of nostalgia/almost-"coming home" that comes with hearing the music and talking to the characters.” This feeling is one that can be cherished time and time again. In the words of another responder: “It always feels welcoming like home or like comfort food that I never grow tired of no matter how many times I go to it.” Others pointed out the strength of the found family trope in Undertale, which likely contributes to this feeling of “home” as well.

As mentioned briefly earlier, the music is part of what makes Undertale feel like home for fans. Even when responses focused on other aspects of the game, many would throw in a comment about the soundtrack at the end. One comment focused on the music said “IT'S SO GOOD like I will literally go through the entire thing over and over and not be bored with it. It makes my monkey brain so happy you have no idea.” Like with the game itself, the music has incredible replay value, an amazing feat considering most of the tracks use the same few motifs. “I think what I like the most about Undertale is how the music attaches you to the story,” another responder said. “They're simple melodies that stick with you throughout the whole game, and they can remind you of both good and bad times.”

If the music sticks with fans in their hearts, then the game’s lore sticks with fans in their minds. Even six years after the release of Undertale, fans are still creating new theories and digging up new secrets. The way the game breaks the fourth wall in particular intrigued many fans and has stuck out through all these years. The awareness that the game shows for the RPG genre makes it memorable. The game plays with the player’s expectations and turns them on their heads, all while reminding the player that they’re in a game. There are few other games that do this on such a large scale, so it’s no surprise that fans cite this as one of their favorite things about Undertale.

Lastly, the LGBT+ representation in Undertale has been a huge draw for fans. Especially in 2015, the sheer volume of non-cishet characters was unprecedented, as one fan pointed out: “It's practically unheard of to see so MANY from just one source, especially during its heyday in 2015-16. Hell, you can't even GET the true pacifist ending without helping two gay couples hook up. It's really nice to see all of them being accepted for who they are and not judged for their sexuality or gender, at least in-canon.” The LGBT+ cast including Frisk, Chara, Napstablook, Monster Kid, Mettaton, Alphys, and Undyne each connected with fans in unique ways. It’s clear how important this is from responses such as: “There are canon nonbinary characters 🥺. i have never seen representation of myself before.” “It made me gay and trans so thanks for that.”

Once again I am overwhelmed with just how much there is to say about Undertale. One responder really understood when they compared Undertale to an iceberg, explaining that there are so many layers to the game that there is something for everyone: “everyone can find something to enjoy in the lore/game regardless of what kind of fan they are! Being able to appeal to various types of fans—from simple happy shipper people to deep dive lorediggers—is the mark of the coolest games!” I would have to agree with them.

It’s been six years, and despite everything, it’s still you. Thank you for reading, participating in this survey, and above all, staying determined.

Highlights:

DETERMINATION became a metaphor for not killing myself at a really rough time in my life and I’ll always cherish that. Undertale isn’t afraid to go to really dark places but at the same time holds on so tight to its hope.

I think the coolest thing was having the opportunity to watch the AU community grow from its bare roots. It's nearly insane how big and complex it's gotten, unlike anything I'd ever seen before. Roll your eyes at the 50th AU Sans all you want, it's encouraging people to step outside the boundaries of fanart and pushing people to make their own ideas! I mean, hell, it was how I gained the confidence to start making my own original content.

i love how the lgbt rep is so naturalized... there are just gay people! and its nobodys business!

The music is my go to answer, but what I really really REALLY love is how the minor characters have so much personality to them when you talk to them. They aren't incredibly important to the overall story, but they're all so likeable and diverse that you just can't help but like them immediately!

I think it was the first videogame I have played that broke the fourth wall that much. Of course there has been other videogames that broke it but just for one or two tongue-in-cheek jokes. The guilt of killing mama goat was also something intense as well that I appreciated as an experience and that I didn't think a videogame could cause on someone.

I love how no character can be seen as completely bad! Everyone builds up Asgore as some horrible villain, but he turns out to be a 'fuzzy pushover' who's broken and just wants his family back by the time you meet him. Then you think Flowey's an irredeemable killer who engineered the suffering of the monsters across many timelines, and he is... but he also used to be the kind and beloved Prince Asriel Dreemurr, traumatized by his death and subsequent rebirth, projecting his best friend onto you.

The fact that choices matter in the game. Your first playthrough and getting the golden ending for the first time. I can never replicate those feelings again, wish I could erase my memories and replay the game from the start.

I wouldn't have met my now husband without Undertale.

(Toxic parts of the fandom aside) The community is possibly one of the kindest I've ever met. Cringe culture is completely dead, and I feel like I can be myself. I felt a very close connection to many of the characters, and I loved consuming content about them when I was in a rough patch in my life.

just everything, the whole game has just impacted my life so much. i know it sounds really lame, but when the game first came out, i would purposely put my hands in my pockets and sway slightly, like sans' idle animation. of course i dont do that anymore haha, but undertale still really impacts me to this day, and i wouldnt have it any other way :)

it made me gay and trans so thanks for that

I realized that Mercy isn't something that's given to those who deserve it. Flowey didn't deserve it. I don't deserve it myself. Shoot, we ALL need Mercy in our lives.

The thing I love most about Undertale is no matter how many times I play or watch a playthrough it always makes me genuinely happy. It always feels welcoming like home or like comfort food that I never grow tired of no matter how many times I go to it. Toriel still makes me feel all warm and cozy in her home, the Skelebros always make me laugh, and I still cry on the inside watching Frisk comforting Asriel. And on the flip side the No Mercy run still invokes the negative emotions in me as well. In short Undertale just feels like a second home to me and I always wish I could stay.

The reader inserts are my favorite way to decompress after a hard day

I think Undertale helped me discover my love for 8-bit games, and made me realize how IMPORTANT music is in video games.

the worldbuilding and character design are my favorite parts of the main game apart from the music! I’m also a huge fan of the random AU music- not for like underswap or underfell i like the stuff where someone makes a megalovania for a random au where gru from despicable me replaces sans as the character. i think its funny

Just... the vibe, honestly? Even the best fics I've read can't capture that feeling of nostalgia/almost-"coming home" that comes with hearing the music and talking to the characters.

there are canon nonbinary characters 🥺. i have never seen representation of myself before.

[SLAMS FIST ON DESK] I KNOW MOST PEOPLE SAY THE FANDOM IS TOXIC AND CRINGE OR WHATEVER BUT OH MY GOD. The Undertale fandom, both the UTMV and the actual UT fandom, has been so much fun to be a part of. I've met countless friends because of our shared interest in something related to the game! The art people create can be breathtaking and so inspirational, and the fanfics are so so good!! I've seen people write incredible things for this fandom and it's what made me continue writing!

There's a scene where Frisk (the player) is going towards what is presumably going to be their death. They will fight Asgore and he will use their human soul to break the barrier and free his people. The music, despite the player's impending doom, is... triumphant. You are not the triumphant one here, and yet, the score invites you to experience the monsters' joy and happiness as they tell you the tale of their subjugation. The monsters are going to be free. This is their victory, but they don't hate you or want you to die. They're just... happy. That scene has always struck me very deeply. I feel it represents the best parts of Undertale.

I loved how well thought out the Geno route was. It really made me feel like I was doing something horrible, and the characters were very obviously reacting to dire circumstances.

I dunno? I like Undertale for it's characters, story, music, secrets and many more. I am not good with Headcanons but I also like the neutral endings and how different they can depending on who you spare and kill

I was very bad at english before, i thought i couldn't progress because i was very shy and not confident. But my sibling and i wanted to have the best experience with this game so we wanted to play it in english. It's this game and the fandom which helped me to make huge progress in english !

THE SOUNDTRACK. IT'S SO GOOD like I will literally go through the entire thing over and over and not be bored with it. It makes my monkey brain so happy you have no idea.

to avoid writing an essay i will say one word. Mettaton

It is like Toby specifically made the games to fit the iceberg meme and it's awesome, everyone can find something to enjoy in the lore/game regardless of what kind of fan they are! Being able to appeal to various types of fans - from simple happy shipper people to deep dive lorediggers is the mark of the coolest games!

I love almost everything about Undertale as a game on its own. The music, the art and especially the characters and how they interact. They made me feel at home. Undertale means a huge amount to me. (I even got a tattoo of the castle when you and MK walk together!) The fandom helped keep the game alive all these years, with all of its AUs. Although personally, I always enjoyed AUs that kept characters as close to the classic material as possible (dancetale, outertale) I do appreciate the creativity of the fandom. They almost created entirely new stories with new characters of their own! If it weren't for those people, the Undertake fandom would have probably not been as active as it is now. I do feel like we're getting a resurgence of classic content now too! (In 2021)

the mystery. toby fox refused to give answers to anything and i think thats very sexy of him.

I just feel guilty for liking it so much when I'm in my 30's. But I recently got diagnosed with ASD, so I guess it explains things a bit. Many ppl consider Papyrus to be neurodivergent, and some adult fans are too, so seeing that makes me feel a bit better.

i think about "Despite everything, it's still you" everyday of my life.

I like how it's just as funny as it can be serious. All routes are this way. I laughed as much as I cried when I played the Pacifist route and then once I opened the game again and Flowey was telling me to let them be happy, I immediately turned off the game. I somehow felt bad.

The Found Family Trope

The True Pacifist Ending is just...man. And the fanworks about saving everyone even when the game doesn't let you? MANNNNNN

I think what I like the most about Undertale is how the music attaches you to the story. They're simple melodies that stick with you throughout the whole game, and they can remind you of both good and bad times.

there's honestly a LOT to love about this game, but i think one of my favorite things about it is just how many lgbt+ characters there are??? i can think of alphys, undyne, frisk, chara, mettaton, napstablook, monster kid, asgore, mad mew mew, the dress lion, the royal guards, and arguably even papyrus off of the top of my head, but im sure i'm forgetting a few from just undertale alone (there's even MORE in deltarune)!! it's practically unheard of to see so MANY from just one source, especially during its heyday in 2015-16. hell, you can't even GET the true pacifist ending without helping two gay couples hook up. it's really nice to see all of them being accepted for who they are and not judged for their sexuality or gender, at least in-canon.

[Image description: A wordcloud in the shape of the capitalized word UNDERTALE. The text is white on a black background, and uses the font found in the game. Some of the most visible words are: Game, Love, Music, Life, AU, Store, Friend, and Feel, which represent the most common words in the essays people wrote about their love for the game. End of ID]

#undertale #analysis #results #undertale fandom census

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