#may repurpose this for fic reasons - I even know where I may put it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lucyandthepen · 9 months

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last eden - i . | lmh

part i, ii, iii

only one thing has ever mattered to you, in this lifetime, and in all others : mark lee — even if he doesn't know yet, and even if he may never remember.

pairing: mark x reader verse: canon/idol!verse, soulmates trope rating: T warnings: none, possibly some mild language, like... one very tame mention of making love ig word count: 4.3k

A/N: yeah i have a lot of these fics that i'm repurposing that i desperately want to post so i can continue them so please look the other way at my random over enthusiasm i beg !! my only long-standing mark fic is actually gorgeous, and while we do love a good raunchy piece, i love mark way too much to keep it to just that. this was my first ever fic on my old blog, and i'm quite attached to the idea despite the fact that it's actually very difficult for me to write. i changed the name because i actually love this song by maktub (anything he puts out is gold to me), which i think generally fits the vibe of the story, so give it a listen if you're interested! so i hope you all enjoy this idol!verse soulmates fic! (help a gal out by reblogging, liking, and leaving a few kind words if you're so inclined!)

“This isn’t really your best idea.”

You know this. You’re fully aware of the possible and endless risks as well as the minimal benefits. But you have to go. The thing that Heehyeon, your roommate, doesn’t fully understand is that this could be your one and only shot, and it could mean life or death. And you know that sounds pretty dramatic, but it really is. you don’t really have all the details (when, where, how, the important stuff) but that doesn’t matter to you right now.

What really matters is that today is NCT’s comeback stage at M! Countdown, and you have to be there.

Unfortunately, this isn’t one of those things you have to go to because your a die-hard fan and you just have to support the group and do all those fan chants and lie to your mom about going to the library when you’re really staying over outside a company building for hours just to wave those silly, expensive light sticks that look like they came out of the factory a bit funny. Sure, NCT’s music was nice (enough), but that isn’t really the reason why you told your mom not to come over this weekend because you would be out on a company team building retreat (as if they actually do that). More than anything, you knew you had to take this chance to see him.

When you don’t respond, Heehyeon presses on with a firmer tone, as if she’s determined to convince you even though you both know nothing is really going to stop you at this point.

“Listen to me, _____________. You are going to a tightly-packed music show with at least a hundred other fans, and you are going to stand in the middle of that dense crowd and — and what? Stare up at him. That’s it. He’s not going to see you; that stage is so high up he’ll probably only catch a look at your forehead, and that’s if you make it up front. And since we both know you’re neither the tallest nor the luckiest person in the world, you know the odds are against you. You’re probably going to get pushed to the back, or stampeded, and it’s going to be messy, and you’re going to push, and they’re going to push you back, and your make-up is going to fall apart, or whatever. Is this really worth it?”

“I told you,” you try to sound patient, but the idea of being buffeted away from the stage by a large wave of sweaty bodies causes more discomfort than you had originally anticipated thanks to her colorful and supremely unhelpful description. “If being near the stage doesn’t work out, I’ll wait out back, near the exit, and —“

“Oh yeah, and ambush him. Because you’ll be the only one there, and because that’s totally safe.” She drops the slightly (well, pretty) judgmental tone when she sees your bottom lip quiver. “I’m not… I’m not saying you shouldn’t try to reach out to him. But this doesn’t sound like the best way, _____________. Security is so tight there, and NCT’s security is even more wary. Even if you do manage to get close, what in the world are you going to say?”

“I— I’ll figure it out once I’m there.” You purse your lips; surely I love you; we’re meant to be together wouldn’t be that hard on your end, but the more important question is: did it sound sane? You didn’t express this doubt, though. Doing so would give your roommate more ammunition to turn back at you; you’d play it by ear when you actually got around to making eye contact with him (if that ever happened at all). And — well, maybe you wouldn’t have to say anything. Maybe, just maybe, this time, he’d remember you.

At that thought, you feel an initial wave of laughter, closely followed by a second, much more painful wave of nausea. Of all the absurd things you could think of, that was probably the most ridiculous.

“This isn’t a good idea,” she recapitulates, shaking her head. “You know what they do to people who stalk idols and say they’re really going to get married to them, or whatever. You know what they’d call you.”

“But I’m not crazy like that,” you argue.

“I know that, but they don’t know anything about you! You’d be labeled a sasaeng. They’ll probably think you’re one of those girls that sneak into their dorms and sniff their underwear before selling them on the dark side of Taobao through a weird Chinese proxy or something.”

“Well, what am I supposed to do?” You ball your fists at your side, feeling a little betrayed. Heehyeon, of all people, should be able to understand why you had to do this, even if it was ludicrous. She had remembered you, reached out to you before you could even place her. She’d heard your story, understood that you had been waiting years for this moment, even stopped you on other occasions when you were about to do the same thing you were planning now, saying it wasn’t the right time. “I don’t have any other way of contacting him. I don’t even know if this is going to work, but you know I have to try, and I feel like this is the right time. I have to see him. I have to — I have to be with him. I don’t need your blessing to go, you know.”

There’s a palpable tension hanging over you now, and Heehyeon’s expression has gone mostly unreadable, save for that twinge of worry still present in her gaze. The soft sound of regular, heavy exhales punctuate every few seconds that pass, and you realize a little later that it’s your breathing, which has turned a bit heavy from the energy spent sort-of yelling at your roommate.

“I know that,” she finally sighs. “I know that, _____________. I just wish you used a different way. Like, a safer, less crazy one.”

“I would use one if there were one.” You frown. “I’m not going to do anything stupid, like attack him. I would never do that.”

She doesn’t say much anymore, opting to watch you instead as you stuff a few more essential things in your bag. A hat. A fan. a bottle of water. Heehyeon had tried to coerce you to buy one of those cheering kits with those slogans, but you didn’t want to waste your money on it, and, truthfully, you didn’t want his name hanging on your walls like some sick reminder in case he rejected you.

“What did you tell your manager?” She asks in a clear attempt to lighten the mood.

“I told her I was sick. You know she never really asks as long as I find someone to substitute for me,” you sling your bag over your shoulder, standing straighter. “How do I look?”

“Pretty damn healthy,” she notes. “But also kind of crazy.”

“I’ll see you tonight, Heehyeon,” you roll your eyes as you make your way out of the room. Before you close the door, she makes one last quick remark.

“Not if I see you on the evening news first!”

You have to take two buses to get to Sangamsan-ro. Even though the traffic is generally mild, the buses make too many stops and wait too long for old ladies with their fruit baskets and newspapers to get on. The wait is making you anxious, and you think about getting an orange to abate your growing hunger, but you’re also so nervous that you’re sure you’re going to spew it all out onto the bus floor anyway. So, you content yourself with listening to music and fiddling with your fingers in your lap.

All you have in your phone is NCT’s music. The files were so large that you’d had to delete everything else you used to listen to and a handful of pictures too (mostly selfies that would have never seen the light of day, anyway) just to get them to fit. You used to only listen to the Korean versions, but you’d found all these little nuances in how Mark raps his lines depending on the language, so you’d started listening to the English and Japanese releases too, even though you can’t understand a lick of anything but ‘baby.’ Most of the time, you skip over to the relevant (see: Mark-filled) parts, already having memorized their timestamps to a kind of sick degree.

It was kind of dumb, and sort of selfish, but you had never really identified yourself as an NCT fan anyway. If you had been an active part of the groups following, people would have probably called you an akgae. You were really only concerned with one member, and it was that member’s voice that filled your ears when you’d plugged your earbuds in and put the volume up.

The first time you’d seen him was in your last year of college. One of your college friends had asked you to accompany them to a Nature Republic outlet downtown. Despite your general lack of interest in make-up at that point in time, you’d gone because she’d promised to buy you a corndog. What you’d gotten instead was a large standee of a handsome guy smiling at you and holding out a pot of aloe vera gel.

You knew his eyes. Even though his features changed a million times in your memory, you could never mistake his eyes for anyone else’s — soft, warm, brown eyes that you’d stared into for truly an eternity. His were eyes you could never forget, were never allowed to forget. You could remember the millions of times they’d smiled up at you in those past lives you were haunted with, twinkled with mischief and laughter in your presence, borne deep into yours on hot summer nights as you made love. Of all the uncertain things in all of the lives you remembered living, these eyes acted as your anchor.

You’d almost forgotten you were there with a friend until she’d called out to you, telling you to step inside the shop. Trying to sound disinterested despite the fact that your heart was pounding, you asked who the guy in the standee was. Mark, she’d called him. Mark of NCT. He was an idol, a rapper in one of those up and coming groups that was starting to gain a lot of attention within the general public because of their ‘cool, chic concepts.’ At that information, your heart had fallen into a pool of acid in your stomach.

Other times were hard, but not this hard. Most of the factors that had kept you or torn you apart were much larger in scale — war, famine, other natural disasters. This, out of all the other times, seemed to be the most difficult; he wasn’t an ordinary man anymore, but a god among men — a god you couldn’t be allowed to approach. You had ditched your friend the moment she’d gotten her change back at the counter, citing a sudden time of the month as the root cause, and dashed out and back to school, sparing only one last glance at the standee.

You’d been waiting for him for years, carefully looking for any sign of him in the people around you, but you had grown tired and had come to believe that maybe, in this life, you had been set free — that he didn’t exist, and the curse would be over. However, as you pored over each and every teaser, music video, advertisement, and blurry, noise-heavy radio interview you could find even a sliver of his face in, you realized that the curse had come back, and in a much larger force than you could ever imagine.

You’d stared at your desk for the longest time that day; the sun had dipped out of sight already when you’d sighed yourself out of your trance. It had never been this difficult. Having the Memory was mostly the worst thing ever, but its usual perk was that you could pick him out a little easier, and he was never too far away — nobody you ever knew in your first life ever was. They just kept coming up again and again, running around in little circles throughout time and space, and you recognized them in a way you’ve come to grow familiar with. It’s a tug, sort of like a tickle in your stomach, and you knew then that he was close by. The signal only stopped when you found him, and it usually wasn’t that hard. From there, you were responsible for weaving the same kind of story — one in which you would fall in love, be happy for a period of time, and then… well.

Heehyeon has the Memory, too. She’d remembered you from a previous life, too, and picked you out of a packed line at a coffee shop, striking up one of the most awkward conversations you’d ever had the displeasure of being a part of because she hadn’t been sure if you remembered her. It was only when she mentioned that you seemed like someone she could be good friends with and that you also seemed like you just happened to like your coffee black with two sugars did you realize that her sudden onslaught of friendliness was a sign she might be like you: unable to forget. She’d actually once asked you if you’d tried just letting him go, and you’d responded with a resolute no. At this point, it was too hard to call him a lost cause, even if he really seemed it. How could you stop loving someone you know you’ve loved for millennia?

He’s extremely handsome in this life, you’ve noted. Girls were falling all over him, which only made things ten times harder. A couple of years back, some rumors of him dating a labelmate had come up. Heehyeon had talked you through that long night of you clutching tissues in a fist and sobbing about how you didn’t want this anymore, how it was never fair, how every single time you had to find him was just growing more and more difficult until it seemed to reach an impossible arc. But, mostly, you’d cried because you hated the possibility — probably the confirmation — that he didn’t remember you at all.

You didn’t really expect him to, but you always hoped. Every life, you would approach him, and he would be a clean slate. It was a tiring process, one you wished you weren’t constantly responsible for. Some days, you resented him; how could he live his life carefree, without even the notion that you two were meant to be together? Most days, though, you just longed for him. Him, and a happy ending.

You let out a sigh as the track changes. His voice greets you again; over time, you’ve noticed it sounding even cooler, more impactful. He’s doing well for himself. And here you are, attempting to make yourself stand out in a pool of fans he probably can’t even see clearly. Nice.

You get to listen to about half of the newly released album before you realize you’re nearing your stop. Sidestepping a couple of baskets of oranges, you make it to the door and dash out. Heehyeon had drawn you a crude map to CJ E&M, and you’d been skeptical of it at first, but you realize now you would have gotten lost and missed the stage long before you got there if you had gone in blind. You’d make sure to thank her when you got back. If you did actually come back in one piece.

Heehyeon also hadn’t been joking; the line outside looks like it would fill a whole section of Jamsil. You’d heard of the dedication of some of these fans, but you’d never seen it like this, nor had you ever actually been a part of it. Kids were really up at three in the morning in support of NCT. Many of them are probably here specifically in support of Mark, you think. Sure enough, the people you line up behind are holding holographic slogans with the print “Mark-yah!” You swallow hard, trying not to regret your decision not to partake in that.

It feels like hours before you get even close to the door of the building. The chatter has died down a little, but not by much; even with less people ahead of you, the noise pollution increases in tandem with the excitement in the atmosphere. You’re not excited, though. You’re sick to your stomach, wishing you hadn’t come alone and wondering if you were going to regret this. Probably. Luckily, a couple of teenagers behind you strike up a casual conversation starting with “ah, it’s getting more humid now,” and you take turns complaining about what the weather would probably be like later on in the day before you start talking about NCT. They’re both Jaehyun fans, and you think about whether or not you remember meeting him in a past life. Nothing really rings a bell.

When you tell them you’re here for Mark, they giggle.

“We know,” they chime. “You’re wearing blue.”

“It’s his favorite color,” you say, a little defensively.

“Everyone knows that. Everyone here wearing that ocean blue is a Mark fan. Didn’t he say so once?” They dissolve into laughter again, but you say nothing. Maybe he had said that recently. Then again, his favorite color has always been blue — the color of the sky and the sea he seems to love so much.

The line grows shorter and shorter, and your ankles feel like they’re starting to swell. You’ve been standing for a good two hours now, and you regret not having bought one of those NCT membership cards that get you up to the front of the line. It’s really no surprise that you, the two Jaehyun fans, and the others in the line behind you are all squished in the back, just like Heehyeon had said you would be. It takes a good twenty minutes before the lights dim down and the stage lights start up, and you hear the buzz that increases in volume right before it becomes a collective deafening shriek from the crowd. The light sticks go up, and you’re momentarily blinded by the large stars that blink NCT in some weird logo form before you get your bearings again. By that time, the members have begun trooping onto the stage in a single file, and you forget your swollen ankles as you tiptoe and crane your head for a better view.

He’s there, your mind screams. He’s right there. You’ve got a whole crowd in front of you, but he’s right there.

The Jaehyun fans are losing their mind too; he’s talking, asking them how they found the album and encouraging them to keep supporting it. Typical idol stuff, you assume, but the fans go wild in an attempt to reassure him that they will. They all speak in a line, and you note Mark will be last. When the mic is handed over to him, the fans start screaming again. You feel like you want to yell as well, except you’re not sure if you’ll say something actually coherent that other people will hear. Instead, you tiptoe a little higher, fixing your pretty bad eyesight on his face and perking your ears up.

“You’re all here so early,” he starts. “How long have you been waiting for us?”

A flurry of numbers fly across the room. He smiles in this genuinely affectionate way even though his eyes can’t focus on a single person in the dark, and your heart stutters at the sight.

“Do your mothers know you’re here?” He’s teasing now. “You can’t tell them that NCT is the reason you’re not sleeping well, you know. Everyone, make sure that you eat breakfast and rest well before school today, okay?”

While the crowd screams in response, you let out a little whimper. It’s a weak, pathetic sound, but it essentially sums up how you feel, seeing him like this from so far away.

The pre-recording starts, but you barely catch anything. You’re too small for this kind of life, and you get so tired of tiptoeing that you actually do try to push your way through the crowd. Of course, this is fruitless, and you end up squatting by the back wall of the room, sipping on your water conservatively and listening to the Jaehyun fans do the chant religiously.

NCT performs the song two more times before they’re saying their goodbyes. You muster up the energy to stand again and make a beeline for the exit before everyone else can smash their way through. The sun is almost up now; beads of sweat form on the nape of your neck as you round the building, trying to find the indicated spot that Heehyeon had marked as the back exit of CJ E&M. You worry about how you’re in the wrong place for about ten minutes until you see the two Jaehyun fans turning the corner quickly, obviously with the same goal as you: to catch NCT as they leave the building.

In no time, the fans have gathered at the spot again, and it seems like they’ve multiplied tenfold; the chants are louder and there are girls with gigantic cameras trying to shove you away from the spot. Security from the company camps out in front of you, their gazes shifting from the door to the crowd and back again.

People around you roar the moment the doorknob turns. Nine of them file out, now in regular clothing, surrounded by their own security. You feel a surge of force behind you, trying to push forward, and someone’s camera lens hits you hard in the side of the face. You barely have time to cry out in surprise, caught in what would have been a scream of pain, when you see him.

In the growing light, Mark looks like a king. No — like a god, actually. Everything on his face shines even when minimal sunlight strikes it; his teeth help, too, brightening his face as his mouth hangs open in an easy laugh. He’s talking to Doyoung and has to face him, his sharp jawline being the first thing anyone can see from that perspective, and it’s that angle that creates all these alarms in your head.

For some reason, you’ve blocked out the noise around you. Even the pain from the camera lens attack isn’t bothering you as much anymore; you feel like you’re in an aquarium, and all the screams are on the other side of the glass. Your vision tunnels; all you can see is him.

You’d promised Heehyeon you wouldn’t do anything stupid. Again and again, she’d asked you and drilled you and reminded you that you weren’t supposed to do anything that would get you into trouble. Even with those promises you’d made, she’d still doubted you. Later, when you’d tell her this story, she’d roll her eyes and yell I told you so!, because, well, she did tell you. And, when you’d look at it in retrospect, you’d see that you should have listened.

Right now, though, you’re walking. Somehow, the camera lens that had attacked you had turned its gaze onto much more important targets; the guard stationed in front of you grunted in pain and reflexively retracted his hand after the lens made contact with it. It wasn’t a long movement, but it was enough for you to be pushed forward by the crowd. Enough to get your feet moving.

Other fans had stopped trying to break through; though many were still hysterical, most were trying to take pictures of the members as they climbed into the van. One by one, they were disappearing before your eyes. No, you thought to yourself. Your chest tightened. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you think that the noise behind you has gotten much louder. Not now. He hasn’t seen me yet. Not yet, please.

You don’t realize that your feet have picked up the pace, and you’ve broken into a short sprint before the building security could catch you. It’s too late; he can’t leave his post, and he only has to hope that NCT’s staff are well-equipped to fend off a running girl. They are, but they’re too busy helping the members that they’re caught unaware — just long enough for you to be within an arm’s reach of them.

Mark is almost in the van; he’s caught off-guard, too, and he doesn’t realize that something’s not right until you’re already there. Security grabs his arm and tries to tug him out of your reach and into the van at the same time that a strong hand grapples at the back of your shirt. Doyoung, who had been by Mark’s side, tries to use his arms to shield you from his friend when he realizes who you are targeting, yelling out something you can’t really understand.

It’s a ten-second long struggle of limbs in which you hear your own “Let go of me!” harmonize perfectly with Mark’s frantic “What the —?” Somehow, though, you’re able to fight through Doyoung’s arms and grip Mark’s wrist with a sweaty palm. The contact causes him to turn back reflexively, eyes wide in shock.

His eyes. God, please, won’t he recognize me? Your fingers close around his wrist a little more tightly. Your mouth is dry, and your throat is on fire. You’re wasting precious time. You only manage out a weak, “Please, Mark, it’s me,” before he’s twisting his wrist away. The arm that gripped your shirt moves to lock around your waist, and you’re hauled, empty-handed, away from the van. Awareness you’d lost slowly trickles back into you. The crowd isn’t screaming at the members now; they’re screaming at you. They’re angry. As you’re dragged away, you vaguely note that the Jaehyun fans you were with are fuming behind the security guards still keeping them in place.

The security guard that carried you off like a rag doll plants you in front of him, and he lets go of your waist but still keeps his grip tight around both your forearms, which have been twisted behind you. You have no choice but to watch from afar as the members drag Mark into the van, looks of concern etched across their faces. They ask him if he’s hurt, and he shakes his head. Right before the door closes, he quickly glances back at you. Your heart sinks for the second time today as you see something in his eyes you’d never seen before.

Fear. Mark is afraid of you.

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florbelles · 3 years

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any unanswered fic writer asks send tweet

we are no longer on speaking terms. 🌝,😈 & 🧠 answered here, 🌙 & 🌈 answered here xx

what do you like most about your own writing?

— i’m generally very happy with my use of narrative voice, particularly in terms of stylistic choices and structure to create atmosphere or convey emotion. i probably consider the latter my strongest suit. it’s also my favorite aspect of the writing process, which is probably why i feel it’s effective :’’)

what embarrasses you most about your own writing?

— the lack of it :/

i jest. you know what’s embarrassing? my organization/lack thereof. it’s near-impossible for me to piece anything together after the fact so if i don’t have it all in one place immediately then girl bye good luck finding it ( there are legitimately passages i have had to look up from wip posts or excerpt memes because it’s the only place i know, without doubt, i can find them ).

what is one wip you think you may never pick back up?

— none, actually. even if there are projects i know i’ll never continue in their original form — the vast majority of my uncompleted original/non-fandom work qualifies — in all probability i’ll butcher them for parts or otherwise repurpose them. ( i realize this is probably asking about in-progress published works specifically, but since i don’t currently have any of those live on main, that’s n/a ).

do you have any wips that you would never let see the light of day? if yes, what are they about?

— not specifically, no. i have plenty of content that i won’t ultimately use just because it doesn’t serve a justifiable narrative purpose, is experimental, is an outtake that i don’t want to publish because it was cut due to changes or incompatibility with another characterization/narrative choice i ended up making ( which i don’t want to muddle, at least at this stage, but i suppose the what-ifs could have a place on main down the line, so not even those are necessarily hard nevers ). alas, no super secret fic, though.

what is your fave fic to receive comments/messages on?

— since i’m not on ao3 and don’t have multiple fics posted, my comments/messages are generally tags or comments on my posts here, and i love & appreciate absolutely all of them :’’)

do you write every day?

— i do, actually! i’m not counting what i write for workshops or uni, obviously, since those are on a deadline, but i can’t think of a day in recent memory i haven’t written something for my self-indulgent projects, even if that’s just a few disjointed lines out of context that will inevitably be buried in the depths of my notes app.

are you a planner, plantser, or pantser? is it consistent?

— the only thing is that’s wholly consistent is i absolutely Do Not Outline, i Will Not Do It. otherwise i don’t think i’ve ever gone into a project without essentially knowing exactly where i want things to end up. that doesn’t mean that isn’t subject to change, obviously, i like to leave myself plenty of flexibility to keep things fresh, but generally by the time i get around to actually writing out fic scenes i have a thorough knowledge of my arc as a whole ( i obviously know all the details of lyra’s canon intimately, for example, but i still don’t have an outline in terms of fic pacing/writing schedule/scene presentation order ).

current number of wips?

— one major longfic and 130+ prompts 💕

do you tell people in real life that you write fic?

— again, not specifically, no. fic makes up a relatively small percentage of what i write, especially in the context of what i have finished ( as you all know ); that’s actually one of the reasons why i have comparatively little completed, i already write on deadlines outside of a fandom sphere, so i’m not willing to put them on myself or make time commitments that could lead to burnout. generally when i discuss my writing projects it’s not in a fandom context. it’s not a secret, though.

what is one growth area you have for your writing?

— proofreading & editing. i absolutely do not proofread. never not going in raw, baby. i do make cuts, but only in the form of culling entire passages if i’m not completely happy with them or feel they’re unnecessary weight/are fucking with the impact & pacing ( which is a habit related to my lack of editing, i would rather just axe it completely or rewrite it entirely ). this is unfortunately true of academic & workshop submissions as well as fandom writing. i’ve gotten by with it all my life, but that doesn’t mean i should, or couldn’t greatly improve my work by putting in the effort.

do you read your own fic?

— yes. after the fact. which is why i will notice an entire phrase that was formatted incorrectly and appeared twice in a row a month after the original positing.

what is the hardest part of writing fic?

— writing it. ( no, really, it’s 99% just a matter of finding time & energy for me ).

do you do research for your fics? what’s the deepest dive you’ve done?

— i’ll do cursory research as the need arises, yeah. most of the deep diving i do is related to canon lore, however. ( i have listened to literal hours of far cry 5 dialogue. i have read fps scripts. i have purchased & studied promotional and companion material. i have given myself motion sickness seeking out notes & confirming geographical details. i have a problem. i never wanted this for myself. i never — )

choose three adjectives to complement your own writing.

— i’m not trying to be a twat but i assume this means compliment because it doesn’t make sense to me otherwise :)) uhhhh visceral, poetic, immersive

what is a headcanon you have about your own work?

— kate’s already heard this one but my pet headcanon that will never be canonically addressed is isbaela watching the nukes from her window with her third glass of morning white wine in her hand making a noise of disgust like “i’m sure this is somehow lyra’s fault” and lawrence is like “oh my god, bels give it up what the fuck is wrong with you” but then ten minutes later in hell he’s like “oh lol no shit?”

( i jest. mostly. )

in all seriousness i like to think that since their world is based in mythology & the supernatural that john & lyra are truly reunited in hell where she has taken her rightful place as one marked by god for damnation as lucifer was before her

name one of your fave comfort fics (doesn’t have to be your all time fave)?

— i’m just going to recommend my “other fic” tag instead :’’)

if one of your fics was going to get you arrested, which one and why?

— she wrote in blood and we all know damn well why

do you spend more time reading fic, writing fic, or do you do both equally?

— writing it! i generally don’t seek fic out, i don’t need to because my mutuals are good enough to put premium content on my dash regularly

#honeysides #answered

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sokkathebluewolf · 3 years

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I am chickened out from gladiator because it is this long and it keeps getting longer is it worth my time to read it ??

... Uh, well. I can’t help but wonder if you’re aware this blog is run by the actual author of the story in question? I don’t know if you expect me to give you a non-biased answer when I’ve considered the story was worth 8 years of my life xD as far as I’m concerned, it absolutely has been worth it, but I can’t speak for the whole wide world when it comes to that. If you want the opinions of readers, there’s probably other blogs run by people who have read the story and who might have critical opinions about it... that may be what you were looking for. If, however, you were deliberately hoping to get my opinion on my own story... well, yes, for me it’s clearly worth it xD Otherwise, I would’ve quit ages ago.

The story is indeed very long and it keeps getting longer, and it will keep getting longer because we’re not done yet and won’t be for a while :’D if you’re the type of reader who can’t stand it when they catch up to stories and have to wait for updates, well, feel free to give it a shot when I’m done writing it, I guess? It’ll be a while until then, but it’s up to you. If you don’t like reading really long stories, then it’s probably better for you if you don’t force yourself to read this one, I know not everyone is ready to dedicate that much time to reading something, especially if they have lots of things to do. Hence, if the length daunts you, that’s alright, it daunts me too and I’m responsible for it xD it’s fine if that deters you from reading it.

But as the way you phrased your question almost sounded like you’re challenging me to give you some sort of sales pitch to catch your attention, let’s see if I can pull it off:

Gladiator is a massive ATLA AU, not only in terms of story length but also scope: it’s a complete rewrite of the entirety of ATLA in a more mature setting, starting chapter 1 with the characters 5 years older than they were in canon. Aang’s adventures in saving the world did not take place here because of a simple enough reason: Katara didn’t accompany Sokka on his boat on the fateful day when they were meant to find Aang, which means the story as we’ve known it simply doesn’t take place. I’ve taken liberties here and there, added some changes from canon when I needed to do so, in order to ensure the story works, but the gist of the story is to set a stage where the Fire Nation marched onwards, practically unopposed, and conquered the Earth Kingdom with the power of Sozin’s Comet (just in case it needs to be clarified, without certain technological developments, Ozai’s wild plan to incinerate the whole world wouldn’t happen, and if Team Avatar isn’t assembled before the Comet shows up, said technological developments simply wouldn’t exist... :’D). I’ve had to figure out how many details would change, how much of the original story would or wouldn’t happen without Team Avatar’s involvement, I think most my choices have been solid, but it’ll be up to you to decide if you think they are or not if you read the story.

The worldbuilding of Gladiator, then, is preeeetty huge and complicated because of that starting point. There’s a lot of elements that are completely new (such as the Gladiator League and all its derivates), some OCs, some lore expansion, so you can definitely say it’s an ambitious project. In a sense, I’ve reset canon to zero, and at the same time I haven’t, which makes things complicated but, for me, really fun to develop. If you’re interested in seeing more of the Avatarverse explored, characters repurposed, with new dynamics and relationships, Gladiator may just be what you’ve been looking for :D

In my experience, the main reason why most people stumble into this fic (other than by sorting FF.net’s ATLA stories by review count and drawing blanks upon glimpsing a Sokkla story on the first page xD) is because they’ve been drawn into Sokkla, or they’re looking for stories centered around Azula or Sokka. Gladiator, evidently, features all three such elements because, obviously, those two are the protagonists and their relationship is the beating heart of the whole tale. I’ve been asked in the past who’s the real protagonist and I honestly still have no idea xD but anyways, if you’re interested in reading a story with a toooooon of Azula character development, even if it takes place across a long, long time, this story may just do the trick. I’ve done the best I could to keep her character as true to what I believed a young adult Azula might become, within the circumstances of this story. She has grown a LOT in 200 chapters, goes without saying (if she hadn’t, I’d be one heck of a failure of an author x’D), so if you’re interested in seeing a slow but effective growth arc for Azula, you’ll certainly find that in Gladiator. Same is true for Sokka, but I think most people who come to this fic for Sokka are interested in seeing him being a badass, which we have plenty of as well xD still, it’s also a long and slow process for Sokka to grow into a powerful warrior, neither him nor Azula start out in the story with all the answers, and they both bump into many hurdles as they navigate their complicated lives.

There’s a lot of humor in Gladiator, perhaps more than expected with a story that has that sort of dark premise, but it’s, on great measure, because Sokka and Azula are inevitably given to banter xD if you want to read a lot of banter between those two, well, you may not be bored in 200 chapters because, while the nature of their exchanges does vary as they both develop, their conversations are usually pretty spirited and they love trying to outsmart each other all the time.

If you are already a Sokkla shipper and the main reason you’re here is because you want more Sokkla goodness in your life... I’ll just say Gladiator has become a bit of a dream come true for me as a Sokkla shipper as well, because it’s the perfect space for me to work with virtually every idea I’ve ever had for these two. Yes, there’s drama and conflict here and there, if you’re not too given to angst there’s a few parts of the story that won’t sit so well with you, though if you love angst you’ll probably enjoy them plenty... yet what I’m most proud of, with this story, is having developed their relationship not only as best I could, but I’ve also attempted to defy typical storytelling structures for romance stories, where the lead couple can’t seem to have a stable relationship because “that would be boring”. Screw that, man: these two have been in a serious relationship together in-story by now for well over half the published chapters, and I’ve had the time of my life writing their dynamics as a couple while the plot continues to develop around them. This, however, is not everyone’s cup of tea, so if you aren’t all that given to seeing such traditional romance storytelling structures dismissed because I wanted to write my favorite ship dealing with all their external struggles while finding strength in the bond they share, Gladiator may not hold your attention long enough for you to devote yourself to reading it beyond chapter 100-ish. On the other hand, if this subversion of romance structure is what you’ve been looking for all your life, or if it’s what you always wanted and never knew you wanted it, or if you’re simply curious as to whether it works or not, Gladiator may suit your interests fairly well. Again, Sokkla is the absolute center of this story, both together and independently, so if you want to see a rewrite of ATLA with them at the core of just... everything? xD that’s absolutely what you’ll find here.

That being said, there’s things I guess you should mind about Gladiator: I have some relatively controversial takes about certain things, including interpretations of fan-favorite characters that some people have been known to take offense over. I, personally, believe my interpretations of those characters don’t deviate that much from canon or that, when they do, the setting itself explains why the deviation works as it does, but due to the fact that I work with a protagonist who was in a villainous role back in ATLA, her relationships with some characters can be more complicated than a lot of people seem to believe they should be. Hence, if you’re not particularly adverse to reading content that brings up big questions about the motivations of certain characters, or how they’d react if the story from ATLA hadn’t happened exactly as it did, you’ll have enough fun in Gladiator. If, however, you don’t particularly care to see anything that shows beloved characters in a not-so-flattering light, this story may not be for you (though, if you’re willing to humor me and allow my story to question your perception of those characters, feel free to try the story as well).

There’s also a variety of dark themes and situations in Gladiator, something that any reader should be warned about in this day and age: I am 100% against violence for the sake of violence, to name one such subject, and I generally try to portray it with as much nuance as possible, but even if I feature my own characters criticizing their violent world and wanting to put an end to the strife caused by the Fire Nation, some of the violence in Gladiator may be a little too much for the readers who prefer the tone of the original ATLA. Hence, if that’s how it is for you, it’s another reason to approach the story with caution. I won’t pretend I’ve handled every theme and subject perfectly, but I’ve never wanted the darker moments to feel gratuitous in any way, so if you’re open to reading a darker take on the Avatarverse, this may work for you after all.

Alas! If you want to see Azula growing out of the toxic Fire Nation indoctrination, if you want to see Sokka gaining confidence and strength as a man and warrior, if you want to see a fleshed-out but still very much villainous Ozai, if you want to see Toph fulfilling her dreams of joining an all-out fighting league where she can beat people up for a living, if you want to see a myriad of secondary ATLA characters (like Song, or Shoji!) given new lives and even genuine protagonism, if you want to see Zuko discovering he’s allowed to just... be happy? xD Gladiator may prove interesting enough for you.

Furthermore, if you want to see Azula being true friends with Mai and Ty Lee, discovering a dragon, developing new firebending styles, confronting her misplaced beliefs about herself, rebelling subtly (and lately, not so subtly) against her father, growing into a great leader who could change the Fire Nation’s nefarious direction... aaand if you want to see Sokka fighting creatively (sometimes with TWO swords!), navigating the dangerous waters of interacting with Fire Lord Ozai, staying true to his beliefs while also learning that the world is not as black-and-white as he was raised to think it was, understanding himself better and making the most of his potential as a quick learner, writing embarrassing haiku and being an unapologetic rebel who goes toe-to-toe with Heads of State just because he can... yep. Probably read it? xD

Lastly... if you want to see Sokka and Azula grow through their mistakes, learning to understand each other, fighting side by side, training together, dancing to no music, learning the underrated pleasure of proper communication in a relationship, sassing each other left and right, flirting in ridiculous ways, taunting each other in many regards, laughing at each other’s terrible jokes, protecting each other fiercely, challenging each other to a spicy ramen eating contest, discovering indirect bending, being highly inappropriate at times and places where they shouldn’t be, making long, dangerous yet fun journeys together, sneaking around to meet up when they’re not supposed to, standing by each other in their darkest moments, watching over the other when they’re sick/injured, being ready to sacrifice virtually anything for each other, and even defying and defeating even death to save each other...? Well, I don’t know if there’s any other stories where you might find all of this, but I can guarantee you’ll find it in Gladiator :)

If none of this is convincing enough... that’s a shame, but I understand. If it convinced you to give it a shot, however... I guess I’ll just hope you enjoy it enough to stick around! :) thanks for taking my story into consideration regardless of whatever you decide. Have a nice day!

#anon #ask #gladiator #self-promotion I guess?

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thesunnyshow · 3 years

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Name: kelsie Writing Blog URL(s): @lovingyong

Age: 22

Nationality: american

Languages: english, some sign language and spanish

Star Sign: libra

MBTI: INFJ

Favorite color: pink

Favorite food: taco bell (lol)

Favorite movie: pride and prejudice, kill bill, gone with the wind, or the handmaiden

Favorite ice cream flavor: green tea

Favorite animal: otter

Coffee or tea? What are you ordering? tea or hot chocolate. never coffee because i’m allergic

Dream job (whether you have a job or not): human rights attorney or writer

Go-to karaoke song: never gonna give you up - rick astley

If you could have one superpower, what would you choose? teleportation

If you could visit a historical era, which would you choose? mmm hard to say bc i enjoy my rights as a woman so i guess probably the 90s

If you could restart your life, knowing what you do now, would you? Only starting at the summer before high school

Would you rather fight 100 chicken-sized horses or one horse-sized chicken? horse sized chicken but i could not explain why. It’s just my gut instinct

If you were a trope in a teen high school movie, what would you have been? I was the floater/nobody for sureeeee

Do you believe in aliens/supernatural creatures? yes aliens allll the way lets go

Fun fact about yourself that not everyone would know? I only type with two fingers on each hand but can still type 60 wpm

What fandom(s) do you write for? nct but i want to also start writing for haikyuu soon

When did you post your first piece? july of 2018

Do you write fluff/angst/crack/general/smut, combo, etc? Why? I like a good combo. Life is never completely fluffy or totally angsty. It’s good to have a balance to make it all seem more realistic and immersive

Do you write OCs, X Readers, Ships...etc? x reader right now but when i write for haikyuu, it’ll be ships

Why did you decide to write for Tumblr? I think it was just… there and available. Ao3 is fun but there’s not a lot of chances or opportunities for interaction so i decided to go back to the hellsite

What inspires you to write? Oh goodness, anything and everything. Oftentimes it’s music. I hear a song and i’m immediately like i need a story for this asap

What genres/AUs do you enjoy writing the most? Mafia and crime. It’s such a guilty pleasure of mine

What do you hope your readers take away from your work? I just want it to be a temporary escape and provide at least some form of enjoyment

What do you do when you hit a rough spot creatively? Read more or watch anime just because both of those are enjoyable things for me but can also give me the inspiration to create again

What is your favorite work and why? Your most successful? you may regret this is literally my baby. It’s not my favorite, but i think taeyong’s spin off story, a way out, is because it's everything i wanted for ymrt, i just didn’t have the same skills at the time. Another favorite of mine is hanakotoba because it’s literally my heart and soul in a story and i’ll always have that deep personal connection to it. My most successful is white knuckle tight which is truly still fascinating for me because it was an idea i got on a random tuesday during christmas break and i just ran with it. I think it’s an alright story but it’s far from my favorite. I lack the emotional attachment that i have to other pieces.

Who is your favorite person to write about? taeyong. Writing him is almost like second nature to me. His character is always the easiest for me to construct and i think people will find he’s the most consistent character throughout stories. There’s not as much variation.

Do you think there’s a difference between writing fanfiction vs. completely original prose? Yes and no. i think writing kpop fanfiction is much more similar to original prose because you don’t have a world to build around. You only have a person. In fact, you don’t even have that. You only have an idea of a person to construct into a character. I think the only difference is that you can get away with a lot more unreasonable plot lines.

What do you think makes a good story? Good characters and enough emotion to create an attachment to the plot. I want to care about what’s happening and the best way to do that is by leading me to some sort of connection to the characters

What is your writing process like? Very chaotic and sporadic. I’ll come up with ideas at 3 am, make a random note about it, and then do my best to bring it to life when i’m actually awake. I don’t plan. I just have snippets of scenes i would like to include. So much of it is just writing whatever comes to mind while im writing it

Would you ever repurpose a fic into a completely original story? I’m doing so with one right now, though 8-% of it is getting scrapped and changed. There’s nothing wrong with that though. Having good bones is what matters and i think this story has exactly that

What tropes do you love, and what tropes can’t you stand? I love enemies to loves if it’s done right. Exes to lovers is another classic. Mafia is a given. Hanahaki and soulmates always does something to my heart. I can’t stand hybrid and a/b/o fics idk why i just have never been able to get into them. Yandere like tropes are also really hard to do right so i usually avoid those as well

How much would you say audience feedback/engagement means to you? It means a lot. I’m sure any writer can tell you that but it’s truly the reason i still write fanfic and haven’t just given up and written only original prose.

What has been one of the biggest factors of your success (of any size)? Timing. It’s always about which member is really getting to people at the moment and which trope is gaining traction. 85% of writing on tumblr is kind of just dumb luck

Do you think fanfic writers get unfairly judged? Yes. i think it just comes from lack of understanding

Do you think art can be a medium for change? Without a doubt. Art pieces as well as writings have made significant impacts in my life in a variety of ways. It’s a medium of awareness and recognition

Do you ever feel there are times when you’re writing for others, rather than yourself? Not really because i kind of just do whatever the fuck i want (sorry for my language lol) but i usually come up with totally self indulgent ideas and then just do it.

Do you ever feel like people have misunderstood you or your writing at times? No… not yet. I expected someone to with shattered memories but it seemed to do and say what i wanted to

Do your offline friends/loved ones know you write for Tumblr? My roommates. My friends know i write they just don’t know what

What is one thing you wish you could tell your followers? I’m doing my best and i wish i could put stories out more often

Do you have any advice for aspiring writers who might be too scared to put themselves out there? Just go for it. You have to try if you want to see any sort of results. Plus these people don’t know you so what’s the risk

Are there any times when you regret joining Tumblr? nah

Do you have any mutuals who have been particularly formative/supportive in your Tumblr journey? Kai, jewel, and abbey for sure. They were some of my closest mutuals when my blog really started to take off

Pick a quote to end your interview with:

You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose. You’re on your own. And you know what you know. And YOU are the one who’ll decide where to go… - dr. seuss

#@lovingyong #feature author #thesunnyshow #nct #episode 49 #haikyuu

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direquail · 4 years

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Entrapta & Light Hope (or Entrapta/Light Hope?)

okay so I forgot I queued this post for reblog after that tweet from Noelle confirming Marahope as Word of God and then I saw it pop up today and I really needed to put this somewhere that wasn’t cluttering OP’s already fantastic Marahope post.

It occurs to me now that Entrapta would be Extremely Horny On Main for Light Hope like

I’d kinda for some reason been thinking Adora wouldn’t bring Entrapta to the Castle because Entrapta would be like a kid who got permission from their mom to eat all the Halloween candy at once--and then I realized that no, Entrapta literally never had a chance to be invited to the Castle before the Sword was broken. So here are some thoughts, in no particular order:

Adora probably brings Entrapta to the Castle either as kind of a thank-you present after the war is over OR because they decide they want to dismantle the Heart’s infrastructure for good OR they just want to figure out what they can repurpose and use for themselves (Entrapta wants to Build More Spaceships, or maybe just needs to repair Darla)

Entrapta is absolutely like a kid who got permission from their mom to eat all the Halloween candy at once

Adora thinks this may have been a terrible mistake and Catra is probably laughing at her because She Warned Her

It maybe took some time for Adora to come around to the idea of dismantling the Crystal Castle (specifically) because even though Light Hope hurt her profoundly--she kidnapped her! She stole her from her family! She lied to her and used her!--she knows that Light Hope was as much a pawn of the First Ones and just as hurt by them--in her own way--as Adora herself was (achieving a kind of consciousness and caring and then having that taken away from her and being forced to hurt someone she’d come to care for).

It’s, in a lot of ways, a semi-parallel to Adora’s conflicted feelings about Shadow Weaver’s death. The Castle was where she learned how to be She-Ra in a formal way, where she started to learn about her past, where she started to feel less lost. She wanted to be friends with Light Hope, and retrospectively, maybe, she wonders if they could’ve been, if not for the First Ones’ intervention in her programming.

So the idea of potentially dismantling Light Hope or the infrastructure of the Castle makes her sad and could bring back painful memories, so she avoids it, at least at first

If anyone is going to treat Light Hope and the Castle and all its painful past with the dignity and respect it deserves, though, it’s Entrapta

Except Entrapta is reduced to (alternately) incoherent, jelly-kneed awe at just the physical structure of the Castle, and faster-than-the-speed-of-sound, gotta-poke-everything-and-see-what-it-does DELIGHT

Like i’d say “hyperactive” but hyperactive is nowhere near a strong enough word

... lbh she probably comes on the spot

At some point during the poking, Light Hope is reactivated, and once they wrap up with the “I-thought-you-were-dead, are-you-gonna-kill-me-now” drama with Adora, Light Hope is Very Consternated at this weird Etherian poking around in her wiring

I’m torn between “Entrapta would be not at all bothered by Light Hope’s manifestation and her having a kind of conscious will of her own” and “this might set off some of her uncertainties around Dealing With People because she does dearly love what a beautiful machine Light Hope is and she wants Light Hope to approve of her and oh this could be complicated for her”

but like, I’m p. certain absolutely nothing could deter her from trying to make friends with Light Hope and also touch all this intact First Ones tech, she probably doesn’t sleep for like two weeks

sooner or later (sooner than later, probably), Light Hope realizes just what a gifted engineer Entrapta is and is also probably low-key thrilled to have someone other than a sword-happy jock to interact with and decides maybe this one is okay

at some point, this becomes “yeah no I’m keeping this one”

Entrapta is decidedly Not Mara, but maybe Light Hope sees something in the way she interacts with her environment--the consideration she gives equally to everything, biological and technical both, or the deep care she (to Light Hope) clearly displays in her work

Mara would’ve liked her, Light Hope decides. Been perplexed by her, but liked her. And Mara was unfailingly kind, even to people she was bewildered by--after all, she was bewildered by Light Hope, at first

there’s a three-way fork in the road here and the fork is either “this is strictly platonic but Deeply Meaningful”, “this is queerplatonic aF”, or “There’s Something Romantic Afoot Here”. All have room for as much angst, bonding, cuteness, worldbuilding, and all-hours conversations as my fic-writing self could ever want

I’m a little hazy on the details just yet, but omg, they would be the Best Pals Ever, and Entrapta would have so much fun working on with Light Hope

Maybe eventually this leads to Light Hope and Adora reconciling and getting to be friends for real? I’d like that a lot

BUT REGARDLESS. The scenario OP lays out in the post I linked/reblogged (where Entrapta builds Light Hope a body) would in my mind go something like this:

Entrapta: *builds Light Hope a body* Entrapta: *accidentally seduces Light Hope*

and that’s it that’s really all I have to add

#spop #she-ra #meta #entrapta & light hope #entrapta/light hope

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yeeter-parkor · 4 years

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Stucky fic!

Pre-war StevexBucky sickfic

You can read on Ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23957554

summery: Unlicked Cub- (Noun)- A loutish youth who has never been taught manners; from the tradition that a bear’s cub, when brought into the world, has no shape or symmetry until its mother licks it into form with her tongue; ill-trained, uncouth, and rude.Bucky has no idea how he is keeping his best friend alive.

Bucky knew the moment he woke up that day that Steve was sick. Call it what you want, intuition, reasoning, a superpower. Or maybe he could telepathically communicate with the idiot he's befriended. For some reason. He just knew that he should be getting his ass out of bed and out the door in three minutes or less, because his tiny angry best friend was about to get very close to death.

So he was surprised to find that his friend was fairly chipper when he opened the door to the closet of an apartment his friend saved up for with Bucky’s mom. Steve never really felt good , but he didn’t look bad either. It was very hard to make Steve Rogers look bad, he just had one of those faces. He was sweeping the floor, something that needed to be done since winter had started and the soot had filled the room from the tiny stove they’d bought last year. Bucky leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms and ankles as he watched his friend work.

It was rare that Steve ever felt good enough to even get up from the bed, let alone have been awake and doing housework for a while. Steve propped the broom up in the corner and walked from there to the window, under which they kept the wood that Bucky'd chopped that fall. He didn’t step in uptil he saw Steve almost topple over from trying to pick it up on his own.

“You’re ‘bout to fall flat punk,” Bucky said, walking behind him. Steve jumped, dropping the wood about a inch away from his foot, making Bucky wince. “Geeze, you actually have a death wish, huh?”

“Bu- what ‘er yah doing here?” Steve asked. Bucky smiled. Even when he’s healthy his hearings pretty bad. Most of the time he couldn’t hear Bucky unless he practically shouted in his ear. Even now he undoubtedly couldn’t hear him walk in just now.

“Jus’ decided to show up an’ give ya a heart attack,” Bucky said, taking three logs over to the stove and propping one in quickly, before turning back to his best friend. “You okay?”

Steve scowled at him, crossing his stick thin arms. Bucky smiled, looking down and bumping his shoulder. Bucky’d gotten even taller in the last three months, and Steve decidedly hadn’t. He wasn’t even up to Bucky's shoulder anymore, and he was salty about it. “ course ‘m okay. Why don’t you think that?” Steve asked.

“I donno, just a hunch,” Bucky said. Steve shook his head.

“I wanna go for a walk today,” Steve said, looking outside. It was a cold day, the kind where the air felt like it was cutting you, and the sky looked like shimmery glass. “You wanna come?”

“Go for a walk? Are you insane? Stevie it’s like, negitive fuck’n twenty out there.” Bucky said. Steve just shrugged. “I can wear my wool sweater.”

“The one that you threatened to cut into pieces last week because it made your skin itch so bad you thought you’d explode.” Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Please? I haven't been allowed out for months. If I don’t get out with you, I’m sneaking out this window. I swear it Buck.” Steve said, scowling up. Bucky sighed.

“Fine. but if I see yah doin’ anything like the fair incident last month I’m marching yah straight back, you understand.” He said, placing a hand on Steve's boney shoulder. Steve pumped a fist, smiling.

“I’ll be well behaved Buck,” Steve said. “Yah know me,”

0o0o0o

Bucky couldn’t believe it. Or rather, he could believe it, but he really didn’t want to. He had turned away for a grand total of maybe three minutes to go back and grab a coat, and Steve was gone. He sighed, folding Steve’s coat over his arm, and climbed up onto a rail, trying to see Steve’s head from the depth of the crowd.

He couldn’t see his blonde friend, and he was about ready to start checking nearby allies, when he heard a commotion near the river. Craning his neck he could see almost forty people gathered around it, some of them yelling, some silend, and a few seemed to be trying to reach something inside. Shaking his head, he followed the crowd. If there was a protest Steve would be there.

“What’s going on?” He asked when he got close enough. The gentleman to his left, wearing what was clearly a repurposed flour sack, shook his head.

“Er, little boy,” The man said, shaking his head. “Very small. He jumped a moment ago. After a young child.” He had a heavy accent that Bucky couldn’t place. “Is sad, two will die this winter now.”

“The kid who jumped after him, what did he look like?” Bucky asked, standing on his toes to see if he saw Steve’s head anywhere.

“Eh, very small. Yes, maybe twelve, thirteen. He did not look healthy.” the man said. “Blond. Why, do you know him?”

“Thank you sir,” Bucky said, before slipping past him to walk up in front of the group of people. By the time he got there, a young girl, maybe five, was coughing up water on the side of the street while her parents hugged her. Steve bobbed in the water next to them.

“Steven,” He said. Steve jerked his head up at that, fixing him with his intense blue stair. He didn’t even have the manners to look sheepish.

“He-ey Buck.” Steve said. Bucky wrapped a hand around his skinny arm and yanked him out of the water, starting the trek back before Steve could protest. Steve’s frail body jerked up, and Bucky almost drew his hand away in surprise. There was zero warmth in his entire body. Bucky was pretty sure his dead father was warmer under the earth. “You found the jacket.”

O0o0o0o

As Bucky suspected, within four days, Steve was sick as a dog. Despite Bucky's best efforts to try and keep him warm, the punk just couldn’t retain body heat. He’d dragged the limp mattress just under the window, hoping the weak sunlight may help warm him up. Before he used to put the ‘bed’ by the stove, but after Steve had accidentally gotten second degree burns after rolling over in his sleep, he’d decided against doing so again.

Bucky only left this last night because he needed to make sure his own Ma was okay. He’d felt bad leaving her with his last sister, but she’d assured him that her and Barbra were fine, and to make sure Steve was alright. She’d known Steve about as long as Bucky had been alive, and she would rather make sure he was okay then let Bucky braid her daughters hair.

“Stevie?” He asked, swinging around the doorway. Steve didn’t move. He took his hat off the peg, tossing it at Steve’s sleeping figure. Steve still didn’t move, aside from shivering slightly. “Steve?”

Steve’s lack of movement was starting to scare him. Bucky walked across the small apartment in five efficient strides. He kneeled down beside his friend, pressing his hand on Steve’s bony shoulder. Steve shuttered, sleepily turning into his light grasp. Bucky cursed sourly enough to make his Ma cuff his ears.

Steve was burning up, his hair sticking up all over the place. Surprisingly, his skin was dry, probably a sign that his fever had yet to break. He pressed down, turning his friend to look at his face. “Stevie?”

Steve didn’t wake up, just shivering in response. Bucky was actually starting to get really worried at this point. He picked the little jerk up, about a foot, and slammed him back into the matrice, wincing when a cough wracked the thin body. Steve finally sat up, leaning far forward as he continued hacking. Bucky always hated waking him up that way, he’d had to do it many more times then he’d liked.

“You with me punk?” He asked. Steve nodded, his coughing not stopping. Bucky sat there, rubbing his back while he wheezed. Steve leaned into him, finally catching his breath enough to talk.

“Heb, Bubk… bhy are you… hebe?” Steve asked, sounding stuffed up.

“Come on asshole, let's get you upright,” Bucky said, grabbing onto his twig arms and pulling him upright. He kept a tight hold while Steve swayed, clearly light headed. Despite his grip, Steve pitched forward, resting his head on Steve’s chest.

“Thanks,” Steve said, already sounding less congested. Still, his breath rattled in his ribcage and Bucky was holding up almost all of his, rather unimpressive, 87 pounds. He coughed again, dry and weak, and Bucky felt his face contort.

“Stop trying to talk you minikin,” Bucky said, rubbing his hand up and down Steve’s back. Steve shivered again, and pressed closer, presumably for body heat. Yeah, that’s what that was for.

“‘M not a minikin,” Steve said. “Jerkface.”

“Punk,” He replied. He didn’t see, but rather felt Steve smile into his shirt.

“Sneaksby,” Steve muttered.

“Rascal,” Bucky contorted, hiking Steve up a little to take on more of his body weight.

“Shabberoon,” Steve said. Bucky faked a gasp.

“Why you take that back. I dress better than the both of us combined,” Bucky said. Steve laughed weakly, leading to more coughing.

“‘An I lie down ag’n?” Steve asked. He seemed pretty damn tired, almost falling over when Bucky loosened his grip.

“Tell ya what, why not we both sit down, alright?” Bucky asked. Steve nodded and Bucky slowly lowered the two of them onto the matrise. Steve snatched the thin blanket that had been thrown off him earlier and curled around it. Bucky kept his arm firmly around him still, trying to keep him as still as he could.

“Yah know,” Steve said, clearing his throat. “ ‘M glad ‘m sick.” He said, leaning closer to Bucky and shivering again. Bucky tightened his arm around him, wishing he had something more to help his friend, other than insults and hugs.

“Glad you’re- Steve, you barely made it out of the last cold you had! Why the fuck would you- what are you shaking your head for rascle?”

“ ‘cuz now I know the girls aight.” Steve said, wrapping himself around Bucky again. Bucky swore, before hugging him tighter.

“You know you’re gonna be the death of you, right nimrode?” Bucky asked.

“Wouldn’t ‘av it any oth’r way.”

0o0o0o0o

Steve did eventually doze off, only to wake up sicker and decidedly less coherent. “ ‘ucky” He muttered, tucking his head under Bucky's chin. He laughed a little in spite of himself, rubbing his friends back.

“Hey, you get some sleep?” He asked. Steve just groaned.

“ ‘ow long wazz I ou’?” He asked. Bucky could barely understand him.

“Maybe ‘n hour or so,” He said, petting Steve's head. “You still feel really hot Stevie.”

“Oh, yah ‘ink ‘m hot?” Steve asked, laughing at his own joke, which quickly turned into coughing. Bucky sat up, propping Steve so he was leaning on his chest.

“Come on scamp, breathe with me, you know the drill,” Bucky said, pressing Steve's bony hand to his chest. Steve tried to take a shuddering breath, and half succeeded, before doubling over himself. Bucky would never admit it to anyone, but seeing Steve cough like this scared him. Really really scared him. Part of him wished he could run away, not have to deal with any of it. But then he wouldn’t get to deal with any of it.

See his problem?

“That’s right, you got it,” Bucky said, rubbing Steves back. Steve still shook under his hands, and his breath was wheezy and halting, but he could breathe again. “Nice and steady.”

“I been… breathing sense I was… born Buck I think… I got it down…” Steve said, still out of breath.

“Well you prove that to me and maybe I’ll leave you alone, huh?” Bucky asked. Steve gave a half hearted chuckle, before turning to press his face into Bucky's shirt. He still sounded like he was fighting for every breath, but at least he could talk. “Would it be better to stand up?”

“No…” Steve wheezed. “To uh… to dizzy right now.”

“Alright,” Bucky said. Steve squirmed for a second, sitting so that he was fixing Bucky with his intense stare. It always made Bucky a little uncomfortable when Steve did that. It felt like he could see right through him.

“Can I ask… you a...question?” Steve asked, playing with Bucky's hand. Bucky raised an eyebrow.

“Sure, but if this is the thing about me killing you again then-”

“No! It’s… not that.” Steve said. He looked actually uncomfortable, something rare for someone as dense as Steve.

“Then fire away,” Bucky said.

“Okay… why do you… stay?” Steve rasped out. Bucky tilted his head, trying to figure out what he said.

“What do you mean?” He asked finally, sensing Steve wouldn’t be elaboration without any prompting.

“Here? Why do you stay… here? This can’t… be fun,” Steve said, shaking his head. Bucky bit his lip, looking at his best friend.

“Because you’re a hell of a good person. You help people, even if it means you’re gonna get screwed over, like yah did the other day, and you don’t ever let the fact that other’s got the upperhand stop yah. You get into stupid fights you can’t get out of and you don’t eva stop for some reason, and you’re my best friend!” Bucky said, finishing by wrapping an arm around Steve. “Now who made yah question it? Was it Robort Jordens again? I swear-”

“No no, don’t… worry about… it,” Steve said, leaning against him. “I’z nice to hear yah say that.”

“Well I’ma keep saying it. ‘Til the end of the line, remember punk?” Bucky asked. Steve grinned.

“ ‘Til the end of the line.”

#stucky #avengers #sickfic #fanfic #pre serum stucky #pre serum steve

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ladyfogg · 4 years

Text

May I? - 7/?

Fic Summary: Ensign Faith Diaz struggles to hide her mental illness from her fellow shipmates aboard the Enterprise until an intrigued Data goes out of his way to try to understand her behavior. At his insistence, Faith tries to figure out what she’s truly passionate about and eventually seeks the professional help she needs. Fic Masterpost.

Fic Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Data/Female OC

Warnings: tw: depression, tw: anxiety, fluff, friends to lovers, eventual smut

Screenshot by @ spacetailor

It had been two weeks since Data and Faith had found the unknown handprint. A sweep of the tubes was done but no other prints were found. However, there had been reports of other consoles around the station that had been tampered with. He and Faith continued to add them to their map, trying to find a connection. They had not been successful.

Faith's mood continued to fluctuate from day-to-day. There were times when she closed herself off or began breathing heavily, unable to speak without stuttering or tripping over her words. Most of the time she worked through it alone and if she could not, Data assisted by repeating her own instructions back to her. She did not ask him to. He did so on his own after a particularly difficult episode.

While the captain was frustrated with the lack of answers, he allowed Data and Faith to work at their own pace. So far nothing of great value had been taken. No one had gotten hurt or actually seen anyone on the ship who was not supposed to be there.

On a personal level, Data and Faith only interacted during their joint shifts but he found himself looking forward to those times. His Bridge duties had been reduced so he could focus on the assignment, which meant he spent most of his day with Faith. While he was able to witness some of the behavior Geordi had previously mentioned, it seemed to happen less and less. Certain days she was quieter than others but other than that, her work was improving even if her mood was not.

Data made his way to Counselor Troi's office for their weekly appointment. He greatly enjoyed their sessions and appreciated her insights. Now more than ever.

Deanna was already sitting down when he entered. She smiled. "Hello, Data. How are you doing today?"

"I am functioning at—" He paused, correcting himself. "I am well, Counselor." He took a seat.

"Anything new you wish to talk about?"

She started every session this way, knowing Data came prepared with numerous questions on various topics. This time, however, his thoughts were more focused.

"There is a recent development I wish to discuss," he said.

"Tell me about it."

"It is about my friendship with Faith."

He did not miss the way her mouth twitched into a smirk. "Oh? I understand you two have been spending a lot of time together. I'm surprised you haven't brought her up before."

"I wanted time to process an interaction she and I had two weeks ago," Data explained.

"So what's troubling you?"

"After I paid her a compliment, she seemed embarrassed and even though she gave me permission to continue, she still reacts this way each time I do so. She explained it was because she does not receive them that often. I find that difficult to believe."

"That one can be embarrassed by compliments?"

"No, that she does not receive them."

Deanna's smirk widened. "Why is that?"

"From what I have witnessed, she has a lot of positive qualities. Her intelligence exceeds many of her peers, she has shown great dedication in our joint assignment as well as a meticulous work ethic. She often considers my 'feelings' though I already explained to her that I do not have any. She is also one of the only people to not interrupt my 'babbling', as Captain Picard puts it. And if she does, she apologizes."

"It sounds like you admire her a great deal," Deanna said.

"I believe I do."

"And it makes you confused that others don't?"

"Well...yes, I suppose it does." Data studied Deanna, looking puzzled. "Why are you smiling like that?"

"Data, if I didn't know any better, I would say you have a small crush on her."

"A crush?" He scanned his knowledge base for the definition. "Ah. A crush: an intense infatuation for someone. A secret burning desire to be with someone who you find attractive or special. A person you cannot get off your mind."

Deanna let him process, watching in amusement just as she had during his interactions with Faith.

"Huh...fascinating," he declared. "I have never had a crush before. How do I know that is what this is? Is it even something I am capable of? There are many questions."

"Well, you have had relationships with women before," Deanna said. "How does this compare to those?"

"I have had two romantic entanglements in my lifetime," Data explained. "Only one of those was intimate in nature."

"And?"

"And, with Tasha, it was a one-time experience brought on by a mind-altering virus. The other…" He thought of his relationship with Jenna. "...did not end well."

"I see," Deanna said. "However, if I remember correctly, you were pursued in both those cases. You have not pursued a romantic relationship on your own."

"I have not found the need to," Data explained. "And I do not know if that is what I would like to do with Faith."

"Understandable. Not all crushes are romantic in nature. What would you like to do?"

Data thought about her question, trying to determine the correct answer. "I want to spend more time with her," he declared. "Outside of our duties, I mean."

"That's a start," Deanna said. "Have you tried?"

"I have offered. However, she had yet to take advantage. I do not wish to push her."

"And that is all you can do at this time," Deanna said. "Let her know you are there for her and comfort her if she seeks it. Knowing you are there can make a difference, even if she doesn't take you up on your offer right away."

"Occasionally, she does seek my comfort during her anxiety episodes. Usually when she cannot handle them herself."

"That is a very personal thing to share with someone," Deanna told him. "You must mean something to her as well if she is comfortable being so vulnerable in front of you."

Data processed what the counselor said. While he followed her reasoning, he was still stuck on the notion that he might have "a crush". "If I understand the word correctly, would a crush not require feelings? Could this be another instance of me feeling emotion for the first time?"

"It's possible," Deanna said. "When you felt what you perceived to be anger, it came about suddenly and organically."

"That is correct. It was during my fight with the Borg that I was overcome with an intense sensation that I could not control. The only way I can describe it was being angry."

"And afterward, when you were trying to elicit an emotional response from yourself, it didn't work, correct?"

"Also correct. I subjected myself to many forms of stimuli but achieved no results."

"We discussed that the difference between the two was the organic nature of the first emotion. Perhaps that's what's happening here. There was something that drew you to Faith and it happened organically. You didn't seek her out and she did not seek you out. You were drawn together by circumstance and connected on a level you've never connected with someone before."

Even with his superior brainpower, what the counselor said was difficult for Data to wrap his head around. He was used to cause and effect, of being able to track the sequence of events which led to each individual moment and reaction.

"I find this all very confusing," he admitted.

Deanna smiled. "Welcome to being human. Most emotions are."

The idea of feeling as other humans feel made Data smile, though he was still trying to work out how to handle what was happening.

"Should I tell her?" he inquired.

"That is entirely at your discretion," Deanna said. "I can't make that decision for you."

"I understand, Counselor. But I would appreciate the advice."

Deanna sighed, leaning back in her seat. "If you are as unsure about the sensation as you claim, perhaps you shouldn't tell her quite yet. Wait until you've spent more time with her and then see if the feelings persist. If they do, then perhaps share them."

Data nodded in understanding. "What if she does not reciprocate?"

"Then you know where your relationship stands."

The counselor's words echoed in his mind for the rest of the day. He pondered how to proceed, eventually deciding to take her advice and keep the information to himself. His reasoning was that if he was wrong, he could potentially ruin a new friendship that was dear to him. He could not take that risk.

Data arrived at Engineering and made for the assistant's office. It had been repurposed for Data and Faith so they could have a central location to continue their investigation.

When he arrived, he was surprised to see Faith was not in her usual seat. He sought out Geordi for answers.

"She said she wasn't feeling well," Geordi explained when Data asked. "You two have been working 'round the clock so I gave her the next two days off."

"Strange. She did not tell me she was feeling ill."

Geordi smiled. "You two have become pretty close, huh?"

"Yes, we have." Data turned to leave. "I will go check on her."

Data heard Geordi chuckle as he walked away. "You do that, buddy."

Faith did not answer the door when Data rang. He waited exactly ten seconds before ringing it again. It was not until the third time that he heard a soft voice say, "Come in."

Data entered Faith's quarters for the first time. Everything was in disarray. Clothes and dishes were strewn around the room. The lights were dim and at first Data did not see her until he stood in the doorway to the bedroom.

"Data? What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice thick and gravely.

She was curled in bed, buried under a mound of blankets except for her head. Her eyes were red and there were tear stains on her cheeks, which alarmed him.

"Geordi said you were not feeling well. I came to check on you."

"That's very sweet but you didn't have to."

"I wanted to." He crossed into the room and knelt by the side of the bed. "Are you alright? It looks like you have been crying."

"No...no, I haven't." She swiped her cheek with her hand to brush away the marks. "I'm just sick."

"Would you like me to get Dr. Crusher?"

"That's not necessary."

"Do you know what illness you have? I am sure it can be cured easily."

"It can't." At Data's look of concern, Faith forced herself to sit up, her wavy hair swirling around her head like a dark cloud. "Data, do you know what depression is?"

"Depression: feelings of severe despondency and dejection. A mood disorder that causes a persistent feeling of sadness and loss of interest," Data recited. He put the pieces together. "I see. So you have depression?"

"Yes."

"My files state that it is treatable. Are your treatments not working?"

"It's a little more complicated than that."

"You are receiving treatment, correct?"

Faith's hesitation answered his question before she spoke. "I am beginning to. I have started seeing Counselor Troi on a regular basis." She left the statement there.

Data was not satisfied. "There is also medication that helps treatment."

"Yes. That's true."

"From your expression, I gather you do not wish to use the medication."

"Dr. Crusher gave me some but I haven't started using it yet."

"Why?"

Faith sighed, pulling her knees up to her chest. "It's complicated, Data. It's not an easy decision to make."

"That is the second time you have used that word to describe this situation. Please explain."

Faith pursed her lips but did not speak. Data waited in sixty seconds of silence before sitting on the edge of her bed. He was patient and in no rush to be anywhere. If she needed time to answer him properly, he was willing to give it.

"Going on depression medication...is a big decision," Faith explained slowly. "It's admitting there is something about yourself that is out of your control. It's taking the chance that you may need to be on that medication for the rest of your life."

"But if it helps you feel better, why does that matter?"

"Some people get used to the sadness, Data. They... I don't know who I am without it."

The gravity of her words was not lost on him. He had seen a lot of illness in his time, mental and physical. As much as medicine had advanced, there were still some ailments that could not be eradicated. The brain may have been mapped, but some of its functions were still out of anyone's hands.

Data reached over and placed his hand on Faith's. It was an action he had witnessed many times when his fellow shipmates wanted to comfort each other.

"You are smart, kind, dedicated, and a good friend," he said. "That is who you are."

"I would say you're just saying that to be nice but I think I've gotten to know you better than that."

"I am saying it because I believe it to be true. That is what I see."

Faith gave him a sad smile. "I wish I could see myself the way you see me."

Data was struck by an idea and got to his feet. "Come with me."

"What? Why?"

"I have something I would like to show you."

"I don't want to get up."

"It will be good for you to move."

"I don't know, Data. I'm a mess. I don't exactly want the others to see me like this."

"Then get dressed and meet me in my quarters when you are ready." He headed for the door, eager to put his plan into motion.

"But wait, Data, why?"

He paused and turned around to face her. "So I can show you how I see you." Before she could protest further, he left.

It took her thirty-two minutes to do as he instructed. When she arrived, she had showered and dressed in fresh clothes, her wet hair draped over her shoulder in a long braid.

"You're lucky I like you," she said grumpily as she entered his quarters. "Now, what did you want...to...show me."

Data had taken the time to put a selection of his paintings on display. They were propped up on every feasible surface of the room, arranged strategically so.

The most recent were first, showing various depictions of their time together: her with her head bent over the console, biting her lip in thought as she studied the map, her taking apart one of the replicators with parts spread out on the floor, her staring off into space deep in thought…

And there were others less specific in nature and more abstract. Dark ropes of space and stars woven together in a single braid like the one she wore. A collection of flowers arranged to form the side profile of her face…

When she reached the first painting he did of her, her eyes in the vines, she stopped.

Data watched her face and the myriad of emotions that danced across it.

"Data…" she said in a soft voice that barely broke a whisper. "Are these all me? "

"You wanted to see yourself how I see you," he said. "This is how I see you."

She looked at him with wide eyes before looking back at the painting. She approached it, reaching out to gently touch the edge of the canvas.

"Do I really look that sad?" she asked.

Data came to stand by her side. "Have I offended you?"

"What? Oh, no! Not at all," she said. "I'm flattered. Beyond flattered. This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. I had no idea…" She trailed off, looking around at his paintings before returning her gaze to him.

She looked at him with such wonder and amazement he could not believe he was the focus of such a gaze. She put her arms up and took a step forward but then stopped herself.

"Do you mind if I hug you?" she asked.

"No, I do not mind." He opened his arms stiffly.

Faith smiled and wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. Data returned the hug as best he could. She was shorter than him, causing his nose to burrow into her hair. Her shampoo smelled pleasant.

They remained that way for fifteen seconds before she regrettably pulled away.

"I didn't know you paint," Faith said. "Do you have others? I mean, in general. Not about me specifically. I'd love to see more of your work."

"Certainly," Data said with a smile. "I would be honored to show you."

He shared with Faith the rest of his paintings, from his very first to the ones he completed prior to meeting Faith. Her reactions to them were fascinating to watch. The same intense study techniques she showcased during her work applied to viewing art as well.

"These are stunning, Data," she said hours later. She sat on the couch, a mug of hot chocolate clutched in her hands.

Data sat down next to her. "Thank you, Faith. Your opinion is most appreciated."

"Have you ever thought about doing an art show?"

Data cocked his head in thought. "It had not occurred to me. Do you think others will be interested in seeing my work?"

"Absolutely. Your imagery is…" She struggled to find the right word. "...a peek into your soul, your thoughts. It's fascinating."

"Because I am an android?"

Faith waved her hand. "Bah! It has nothing to do with that. Most people may be able to picture images in their head, but very few of them can actually replicate it. You've not only managed to do that, but also given it so much substance."

Data was overwhelmed. "No one has ever described my creative endeavors as having substance."

"You do something else besides paint?"

Data nodded. "I play the violin and have tried writing poetry."

"Tried?"

"It has not been...successful."

"I was never good at poetry either," Faith said. "I'd love to hear you play the violin at some point."

"There is a recital next week. I would be honored if you attended."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world." Her eyes drooped and she stifled a yawn.

"You are tired. You should go to bed."

"Not yet. It feels good to be out of my quarters and I enjoy spending time with you."

"I enjoy spending time with you as well," Data said. He noticed she had finished her hot chocolate and took the mug from her hands to dispose of it.

"I'm sorry we didn't get any work done today," she said. "I know the captain is anxious for some kind of results."

"On the contrary, I have been running diagnostics and analyses this entire time," Data told her.

"Convenient and handy. Find out anything interesting?"

Data accessed the information while he began putting his paintings away.

"I have been analyzing the items that have been reported missing and organizing them into categories. Among the most significant are power chips, wires, a replicator module, and scraps of parasteel. However, I was curious and began to construct a second list of non-mechanical objects that have been reported lost or missing. There has been an unusual increase in blanket replication, several crew members reported clothing misplaced or gone altogether, and even one person lost their uniform shoes. From this, I can deduce that whatever life form that is evading our detection is collecting items for survival…"

He turned to look at Faith, only to find her fast asleep. If Data were human he might have taken it personally. He approached her cautiously, hand reaching out for her shoulder to wake her. But the peaceful look on her face stopped him.

Instead, he gently gathered her into his arms. She instinctively curled against his chest, letting out a small content sigh. Data held her for a moment, studying how the worry lines of her face were gone while she slept. A strange sensation settled in his abdomen and he had the sudden urge to protect her at all costs.

Data carried her over to his bed, laying her down before tucking the blankets around her.

Spot appeared from the shadows where she had taken refuge when a new person arrived. Now she sniffed Faith curiously before giving Data a look of doubt.

"Be nice, Spot," Data ordered, pointing a finger at the feline. "She is very special to me."

Spot swatted at Data's finger, making him tut in disappointment. He put her on the floor.

"Computer, dim lights."

The lights in his quarters lowered and Data returned to the couch. Now was as good a time as any to turn on his dream program. He laid himself out, staring up at the ceiling. Spot jumped up onto his chest, turning in a circle before lying down and curling herself into a ball. She began to purr as Data scratched her ears.

Data's thoughts were consumed by Faith and her compliments. He began to understand her reaction when he first complimented her. Data himself was used to admiration on his skills, particularly his computing, strength, knowledge, and other aspects of his android nature.

He was not used to compliments on his creativity. Quite the opposite. Perhaps he would display his work in an art show. Perhaps Faith would help.

He cast one last look at her, smiling when he saw her still fast asleep. Then he closed his eyes and succumbed to his dreams.

#commander data #lt commander data #data tng #data soong #star trek next generation

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darkmindsotome · 4 years

Text

Risque Rouge pt11

Tagging: @umbralaperture @otome-smut-queen @silver-fox-of-azuchi @tsundere-mitsuhide @jennacat84

General warnings for the whole fic: Angst, some fluff, Mental health issues, emotional things, trauma, blood, death and possible triggers. Please read responsibly.

Darkmindsotome Masterlist

---

Chapter 11

It had taken most of the remainder of the day to reach the marker they were looking for. The sunset painted the abandoned relic of a church making its scorched stone shine once more in the colours of flame. The grating sound of rusted metal travelled in the wind as the broken weather vane attempted to turn in the breeze.

Amos passed through a gap in what was left of the waist-high stone wall and walked almost reverently through the half-obscured and overgrown gravestones. He wrapped his leather coat around him a little tighter as if it would shield him from the shadows of the past.

Trailing ivy and clematis had latched on to the charred thick wood of the door filling in the missing gaps with vibrant green leaves and delicate white flowers. The stone flooring was partly covered with green moss and tufts of grass. Fallen beams and missing sections of the roof told more of the same story, a dilapidated building caught in flames of history. A single gothic rose-shaped window remained mostly intact and allowed the setting sun to fill the space with even more light.

Amos walked around the edge of the once solid structure where the climbing foliage hung like a curtain maintaining its secret and slipped into a gap between one of the stone pillars and the wall. A very narrow staircase followed the uneven flow of the stone until they hit the soft dirt worn smooth with use and the passage of time.

He smiled to himself as he walked with ease down the same path that was once used as a method of escape for those above knowing it had easily been repurposed in exactly the same way as everything else could be. Nothing in this world was as simple as it seemed and everything could be manipulated to suit a purpose. What that purpose was to be had little to do with him.

“Ours is not to reason why.” He mumbled to himself as he walked further along in the darkness. The air here was thick and filled with a stronger smell of decay than the church above. Here the airflow was minimal and the stone clung to the damp chill of the subterranean realm.

After several twists and turns, each supplying false passages and dead ends the path he was walking expanded to reveal a roughly carved archway blocked by the same heavy wood used for the church door.

Amos removed a small dagger from his pocket and used its hilt to knock on the wood. The blade rang in the acoustics of the passageway as if it were a tuning fork.

“Entrar.”

The boards blocking the arch moved to the side with surprising ease. As Amos stepped into the cavernous space beyond the archway, the stale air was replaced with a rich and heady scent of incense.

Rough, cold stone walls had been covered with thick tapestries each one detailing a different method of torture in fine gold thread against an inky black fabric. Candles lit the space. They were both tall and short, standing on their own piles of melted wax that dripped and pooled like a living creature on every surface.

The only objects not to be affected by the melting mess were two chairs that seemed to be made from the remains of a crypt, roughly covered in scraps of aged leather and a large stone desk similar to a table used for satanic rituals. Runes, words, symbols of all faiths known to mankind were etched into its surface including a few archaic ones that had long since been forgotten.

Sitting on one of the chairs behind the desk was a figure dressed in long robes of state. They were trimmed in the same golden thread as the tapestries. The hood covering their head hid most of their features revealing only their chin and mouth. Calloused hands that had been in the process of writing ornate sloping calligraphy stopped to pick up their ink blotter.

“Amos? It is not yet time for your report. I trust you have something of interest?” The voice of the man behind the table was dry as dust and rang clear as a bell in the domed space.

“The reos has taken a female. I thought you would like to know in case there was to be a change in plan.” Amos stood a little taller as he addressed the one who saw fit to hire him. He held the small dagger in his hand, twisting its hilt in his grip before placing it back into the hidden folds of his leather jacket.

“What is their intention?” The figure enquired with a slight distraction as they checked the quality of their writing and removed the stretched vellum from the writing slope.

“I do not know. There is a chance it could mean little.” Amos replied resisting the desire to shrug in the presence of a man who had torn limb from limb for daring to display such signs of idleness.

“But also, a chance it could mean breeding.” With a heavy sigh, the figure behind the table pulled back their hood revealing a shaved head with a ring of wiry hair. They looked towards Amos with a pair of eyes that looked to be tainted by the darkness they had once declared to wish to purge from the world. It was a cold and unforgiving judgement that saw many fall from grace. “We simply cannot allow for that line to continue without securing the artefacts.”

“What would you have me do Grand Master?” Amos waited patiently his mind already running through possible scenarios and ideas that could be put into play as soon as he returned to the city.

“Put an end to this distraction as soon as possible. I leave the details to you Amos.” The Grand Master waved his hand signally the end of the conversation as well as the time he wished to spend thinking of such a trivial matter.

The boards moved back to seal the room shut as the figure of Amos faded into shadow. The Grand Master selected a new piece of vellum, the visible markings of former tattoos telling a tale of where the skin had come from and stretched it over the writing slope. After pinning it securely in place he picked up his quill once more and dipped it into the inkwell. Curling lines of darkened crimson blossomed on the skin as the fluid lettering began to detail the last words of the former soul that once owned both the vellum and blood.

---

Evie had been given more of a tour of her temporary home after enjoying luncheon by Comte with Sebastian in tow. She discovered her first idea that the mansion was a bit like a mini castle was not exactly wrong. The vastness of the property had her head spinning as they moved around.

She already knew where her room and the dining room was, even if she genuinely was getting a little concerned, she could become easily lost. Sebastian added small details to Comte’s guided tour that also helped give her an idea as to where she might find some of the other guests if she wanted too.

The stables and la salle were interesting but as she could not ride and was no swordsman she honestly could not see herself returning to either. The parlour was set up for relaxation and games. Stacks of board games were housed in an alcove with a chessboard that was already set up for a game nestled between two chairs. There was even a billiard table with several cues mounted on the wall behind it.

She became curious when Comte appeared to pocket a deck of cards that had been left on one of the small tables. It looked to be rather decorative with lots of female figures printed on it. When she asked all he said in response was it appeared to be a special deck left by Arthur. Comte made eye contact with Sebastian over her shoulder and she could hear the butler's exasperated sigh.

After a very quick look at the kitchen, they passed the music room where a beautiful piano piece could be heard through the closed door and came to a room that she never imagined existed. Pushing open a set of double doors Comte stepped to one side and her eyes found a massive library that took her breath away.

It was spread out over two whole floors and was filled floor to ceiling with books on everything and anything she could possibly imagine. Comte smiled as he watched her looking shamelessly childish giving a small squeal of joy and running to a random shelf brushing over the leather bindings with her fingertips as if she thought it all to be a dream.

Comte found his eyes following her as she flitted from shelve to shelf like a hummingbird. The natural light was fading by this point and the lamps in the room would soon be lit to counter the darkness but for this brief moment before the day turned to endless night there was a warmth in the room, unlike any fire. The smile on her face was so enchanting he found himself mirroring it naturally.

“You may read anything you like and if there is anything that is not here, I would gladly go with you to find it in town.” Comte declared happily as he came to join her by a section of books, he himself had been rather fond of when he was younger.

“I’m not sure I could read all of these even if I took a whole lifetime to do so.” Evie looked around her clearly still struggling to grasp the quantity of literature in the room.

“You could…” Struck by the sight of her innocent wonder, words simply fell from Comte’s mouth before he could stop them.

“Did you say something?” Evie tilted her head as she looked at him. Her black hair was a little messy and he found his hand moving naturally to smooth it back into place.

“No nothing. We still have a couple more places to see, ma Cherie.” Comte gracefully avoided her question prompting her to move on to the next location. There was still an important discussion that was required and he found himself once more unable to have it. Sebastian was watching him in silence like a rather daunting owl. He knew nothing that was happening was to avoid detection from his wonderful manservant he was only thankful that whatever questions the man had remained silent for now.

The last places to see were the garret and then finally what he called le thermae. If the library had been a room that went beyond her imagination, she certainly never thought that an entire roman bath would be hidden beneath the building. The large room had a massive pool of hot water with a marble sculpture standing proud at its centre. Tall columns reached high up like trees to meet the vaulted ceiling that looked almost like a cathedral.

“Incredible…” Even silently her voice carried in the room becoming much louder. She had heard from several people at the performing house that popular bathhouses had appeared recently called Hammam. From what she could remember they were from Turkey and not like this at all.

“You naturally have access to your own private powder room and shower in your bedroom but this is an experience not to be missed.” Comte spoke proudly looked at the gleaming marble surfaces and the steam rising from the water.

“There are indeed many benefits to enjoying a hot spring. In my country, there are many locations where people travel from all over to visit and enjoy the waters. Each location hosts a variety of different health benefits depending on the minerals present in the water.” Sebastian added a little cultural insight to the idea of bathing in this manner.

“Really? It does sound like it could be very relaxing.” Evie nodded enjoying learning something new. Intrigued by the space around her she couldn’t deny she was certainly curious what it must be like to enjoy a dip reclining in the pool compared to a standard bathtub.

“While you are staying here, I shall arrange a schedule so you can have complete access to le thermae without fear of intrusion.” Comte spoke which prompted Sebastian to take out a pad of paper and his pencil. There was a moment of frantic scribbling followed by a ripping sound as a page was removed and handed to his master. Comte accepted it as if it were nothing and placed it in his jacket pocket.

“Oh! You don’t have to trouble yourself.” Evie tried to avoid any further burden she would cause with her staying here. Comte had already done so much so anything else felt as though she could never hope to repay her debt to him.

“No trouble at all ma Cherie. My only wish is for you to enjoy your time here arranging such things is no trouble at all.” Comte’s charming reply felt like he was purposely ignoring her concerns.

Her conscience continued to trouble her as he continued to effortlessly display his kindness by walking her back to her room and suggesting she take some time to have a quiet dinner alone before bed. Sebastian had appeared with a tray of food which she ate enjoying every bite but found herself wondering at the lack of fullness in her stomach.

She tried to sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she felt the sensation of breath on her skin and the tight grip of fingers digging into her body. She remembered the cries and how it felt too coiled herself around the body of the doctor. The look of the lifeless body in frozen rapture in her arms. Her eyes snapped open and she sat upright as if someone had pulled a leash around her neck. Her body was shaking and she was drenched in a cold sweat. She reached out to pick up her glass of water from the bedside table and found it to be empty. Sighing she shakily got up from the bed and wrapped herself in the silk robe Comte had also seen fit to buy for her.

With her glass in hand, she turned the handle on her door and stepped out into the hallway right into a rather solid yet soft obstacle.

“Ah!” She cried out as she started to fall backwards nearly dropping her glass. The strength of a strong arm wrapped around her waist and she couldn’t help remembering Leo doing something similar earlier in the day. Her eyes found one eye that shone in the dim light of the hallway like a starless night the other hidden behind an embroidered patch. “Pardon Monsieur.”

Evie found she didn’t know where to look as the figure in front of her was like a flawless piece of artwork. She could easily imagine any number of angelic creatures being modelled after such a person. As if to hit home the heavenly appearance they were also dressed in a white uniform that looked to be military of some sort but equally would have suited a dashing Prince.

“Are you alright Mademoiselle?” The stranger spoke reminding her that she had been staring rather rudely at them. Evie moved in the man’s grasp which seemed to remind them of their proximity and they immediately removed their arm looking apologetic. “Pardon…”

“No, it was all my fault I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Evie took half a step back and gave him a weak smile. Now she could get a better look it did seem that she was right about the uniform, not only was there a streamlined appearance to their clothing there was also a sword attached to their hip. She wondered if this was one of the other guests she had yet to meet or if he was some sort of guard for the building.

“Egads, if it isn’t the ghost of the mansion and what’s this? They seem to have caught a rather pretty little bird.” A man dressed in a blue blazer with a patterned waistcoat appeared out of nowhere. He also had an open-collared white shirt with a loose tie and a pair of gloved hands which were currently hooked into the pockets of his trousers. His dark hair had a blue hue in the bad lighting but it was nothing to the sapphire blue of his eyes that sparkled with mirth as he looked at them.

“Ghost?” Evie asked wondering if she was still stuck somehow in a dream. Everything happening felt a bit disconnected like her body and mind couldn’t find a balance.

“Jean here is something of a phantom, although I had no idea he was capable of sneaking such a delightful surprise into the mansion. Guess it’s true what they say about still waters isn’t it old chap?” The new man was speaking with an even more defined accent than the others. Evie was willing to guess the ghost who was called Jean was certainly French while the man chatting in a friendly and flirtatious manner was English.

“I will thank you to not spew such slander and keep your lewd ideas between yourself and your scriptures.” Jean was clearly not comfortable with whoever this man was. Compared to the reserved and almost reverent soldier the English man did seem to be rather forward.

“Now now no need to be such a grump. I would be more than happy to overlook anything I have seen if you let me have a little time with her as well…” The man moved forward getting just close enough for Evie to clearly see the playful smirk and way his blue eyes roamed over her from head to toe making her feel as if she were being undressed.

It was one thing for something like that to happen in the performing house where it was to be expected but it was another to have such things happening now. She was not at work. There were no barriers here for protection against such advances and she felt her blood heat up as she gave an icy glare to the new man. She was not an object and certainly not a willing participant in whatever games he had in mind.

“Excuse me? I have no idea who you think I am or what you think you are witnessing Monsieur, but I can only assume from the stench of alcohol you are in no fit state to deduce anything.” Her eyes were unmoving and her face had a stoney expression fixed to it.

She didn’t know if it was from tiredness or that strange sensation she had woken with of the memory of hunger but she was certainly not expecting the blaze way in which the English man so easily shrugged off her criticism.

“Ah! That is where you are wrong my dear.” His smile seemed to grow wider and his face shone with amusement. He was taking very slow steps towards her which sent chills running up her spine but she refused to cower and give him the satisfaction of witnessing her run. “I can deduce a great deal from the fact you have come to this house from outside of the city proper and have been in the habit of balancing on the balls of your feet which says to me you are something of a dancer. You have had a rather trying and harrowing experience recently that has resulted in something of a loss of sleep and you are still suffering the effects of such an event even now.”

“What? How could you?” Evie forgot her mask as her emerald eyes went wide searching the encroaching sapphires for the secrets they held. How did this stranger that stunk like a brewery and cheap perfume gather so much information so quickly?

“Do not concern yourself, Mademoiselle, his little tricks are little more than witchcraft.” Jean spoke positioning himself partway in front of her blocking the other man’s approach as he did so.

“Well, that is rather harsh dear boy I realise I called you a ghost but I would have thought a man of your background would have refrained from using such words.” The Englishman’s target seemed to have momentarily shifted once more.

It reminded her of a cat playing with mice for fun. She couldn’t work out how serious this person was at all. He seemed to be having fun but this whole situation felt like a game set up. He was clearly more than he seemed and it was going to take a much better understanding of him to work out what exactly that was. As much as she enjoyed a good mystery she was not certain that she wanted to get close enough in order to solve this one.

“You know you would be much safer with me little bird? You are already thinking so from the way you are undressing me with your eyes just now I can promise to live up to expectation.” The man in blue now held out a hand reaching for her hair on her shoulder.

Before she could recoil there was a rush of air and the dull sound of something meeting wood. Evie looked at the solid back of Jean that had moved to cover her more and the outstretched arm that held the glistening hilt of his sword that now had its tip embedded in the wooden door frame at the level of the other man’s throat.

“Try it and meet my blade.” There was a challenging note to the way the soldier addressed the other man. Evie could not understand how it had all escalated to this so quickly and surmised there was probably other factors or occasions that had led to this point.

Soldiers had what she was told to be a code of ethics. It gave them reasoning in unreasonable situations and a purpose. She was certainly not a soldier and hated fighting but she could understand wanting to protect something.

She was grateful to Jean for his interjection but she had seen more than enough blood and horror for a lifetime. Evie lifted her hand and placed it on Jean's shoulder. They flinched under her touch and she felt their body relax as their eyes met and he lowered his weapon. There was a swirling mass of unspoken words and emotions in his eye the main one she thought she saw was remorse.

“What do you think you are doing?”

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bloodgarnet · 5 years

Text

MDZS Original Mystery Fic Idea

So I came up with this idea for a mystery plot since I was so impressed with all the fic until I read the novel and realised most of it was just minor alterations on canon :/// (still impressive though). I got pretty far in the outline before I realised it would need a lot of minor character interactions and cultural knowledge which I respectively can’t be bothered with and don’t know shit about lol. The premise was also meant to have a lot of happy trolling WWX but most of the scenes turned out pretty serious… There’s probably a 99% chance I’m never going to write this so posting it publicly as free real estate.

Tags: Case Fic, Memory Alteration, Mystery, Plot Heavy, Romance, True Love

Title: Fortune’s Memory OR One Thousand Worries (*from Chinese proverbs)

Summary: Wei Wuxian successfully manages to convince everyone that he is Mo Xuanyu… through absolutely no merit of his own.

Prologue: WWX reflects after his resurrection that even if MXY forgot to state his wishes, he still did a pretty good job—after all, with a totally untested ritual from the branch of cultivation that he invented, who knows how many things could have gone wrong. /foreboding

WWX’s wrist held by LWJ as JC and he argue. Unexpectedly, JC says this is giving him a headache and decides to leave (jin ling says you too, uncle? JC like you ARE my headache, child). LWJ says WWX is coming with him to gusu but WWX argues it and says he doesn’t want to go to such a place with LWJ, whose eyes go cloudy and he suddenly releases WWX, confused. They part ways, but WWX wonders what the heck just happened—unexpectedly lucky! He’s still interested in all the weird things happening though and decides to meet up with wen ning elsewhere.

Meanwhile, LWJ inexplicably feels a profound sense of loss.

JC goes back to Yunmeng with Jin Ling and has trouble remembering things. He tries to recall the culprit of the ghost general incident but can’t picture his face. He tries to scold jin ling but can’t remember what for; jin ling also has trouble remembering. He tells jin ling to go to his room and if he wants sympathy, go to his mother for that. Jin ling freezes and says what are you even talking about. Jiang Cheng blacks out as jin ling screams.

Lan Xichen talks to Jin Guangyao about how both Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang have come down with a mysterious illness which affects their memory—possibly a targeted curse at clan leaders, though perhaps a small smattering of rogue cultivators have also been affected. Sadly, it has even affected the Jin heir, Jin Ling, though his is a bit better. JGY reflects since it’s the opposite way, it can’t be the strength of his golden core but rather maybe his youth that makes him resistant as some spells operate that way. LXC thanks him for the advice and worries that LWJ was recently in contact with JC and JL. JGY comments that these unexpected events are the most dangerous.

WWX meets up with wen ning and they discuss what to do: he frees wen ning from chains and needles and says he could go live life if he wants, but WWX is interested in the ghost arm incident. They get wen ning a disguise and hear from locals that nie huaisang and JC have come down sick. WWX frowns and wonders about the current political climate, who knows how many people would want to take down the sect leaders. Then he hears that LWJ is possibly also ill and feels really bad about it for some reason—that’s what makes him decide to investigate himself, putting this over the ghost arm incident. Wen ning asks how to do that and WWX says they need information now more than anything—they must prepare for the upcoming conference which will discuss what is happening.

JGY attends the conference and notices a strange bird outside. He’s seconds away from touching it when LXC calls him and it flies off. They go inside and discuss the potential epidemic; LXC confesses LWJ seems to show preliminary signs but Clarity seems to be helping him remain stable for now. They discuss it’s potential as a contagious epidemic and agree to have healers share findings as well as a group of famed Lan healers (?) visit the other sects with a small entourage in order to compare patients directly. JGY notes that this subject has totally eclipsed the issue of the ghost hand, which tried to escape Gusu Lan but was caught at the barrier with no casualties but many injuries. Also JC has woken and has a clean slate memory and just seems to be much happier??? They decide to keep the whole thing quiet from the public for now to prevent panicking. Conference ends with JGY accidentally revealing that he’s forgotten something important, so he’s infected too, to LXC’s shock. The bird flies away.

Wwx discusses the situation with wen ning at a restaurant (where wen ning is like thank god my tastebuds are dead lol). Wwx says that the situation is bad but not killing anyone so far which is good. Explains to wen ning that the healers probably know this but it can’t be an epidemic because it hasn’t spread enough; it’s far more likely a targeted attack since it’s really only affecting important people. Lan Sizhui and Jingyi enter the restaurant and WWX hides his face by faceplanting in his noodles lol. WWX and wen ning eavesdrop on their plans to escort the healers back from Nie territory to Gusu Lan, noting that LWJ may have gotten worse in the time they were gone. WWX worries and decides he needs to steal a jade token, but for now they have a convenient target for a little spy.

Sizhui and Jingyi report to LXC with the healers who explain that it IS contagious, a qi transmitted virus, but only from the carrier—likely only one since it hasn’t spread far: so it must be someone who has come into contact with all of the people affected fairly recently. Also it seems like an imbalance of energies causing qi deviation. Sizhui reflects this will be hard since the victims don’t remember anything. LXC says that’s somewhere to start, though, and gets disciples/servants to fetch LWJ from seclusion since it’s not contagious. LWJ joins (sizhui happy!) and says that his illness has not progressed at all. LWJ says that the number of potential carriers is too many but to retrace his steps he might as well seek out the rest of the ghost hand’s body as the hand has conveniently pointed in that direction. Sizhui and Jingyi volunteer to go with him along with some other junior disciples; justification that it can be a low-stress learning exercise if nothing else(?) which is what LWJ was doing originally. Then takes out his sword and strikes down the hidden bird which was trying to steal his token – LXC marvels that LWJ broke a rule (no killing) but LWJ says the bird was already dead.

WWX says, “Shit.” WWX talks to wen ning and says that chasing the hand’s body now is dangerous since LWJ will be there—he wants to investigate the victims too in case there’s a demonic element but has an inexplicable bad feeling. Laughs off concerns about memory because his has always been bad. WWX says that his expertise in this area is lacking though and what they really need is a healer who knows about demonic cultivation and wouldn’t run on sight… oh. Wen Ning is like I mean. WWX like would she kill us?? Hmm. They head to Yiling Burial Mounds.

Dead bird makes everyone realise it’s related to demonic cultivation

Filler scene…? Maybe LWJ POV? Tiger seal? Body parts?

Sizhui and Jingyi realise that someone LWJ met right before this happened (along with JL and JC) is MXY, so they should find him!

Wwx and wen ning arrive at the burial mounds and talk while wwx makes chenqing 2 (joke that’s a JC name! But I can’t think of one now lol). He uses it to summon wen qing with inquiry and ask her about it. She says it’s hard to say but given that no one’s died, it may not even be intentional, maybe just a side effect or symptom of something else. WWX says since there’s no change in political power. It does weaken the sects affected temporarily but a widespread attack like this isn’t so good tactically so it could fit. Wen Qing says she’d need to examine a victim herself but would need a body for that and hers is long gone. WWX like wait you would be okay with me getting yours back? Also idk how to do that?? He explains the ritual he used to come back and she frowns. WWX like to accomplish what you suggest would need more power than I currently have in this body… perhaps by repurposing the tiger seal???

And this is where I stopped because I legit can’t remember what happened to the tiger seal at this point in canon. Probably something about Xue Yang but I skipped over his chapters because I wasn’t interested lol. Since there wasn’t really a point to bringing Wen Qing back, I imagine their plan fails but it brings them into the fold with the other characters, and she stays a ghost and has a tearful goodbye with WN at some point near the end or something. Also having to figure out exactly how the whole Nie Mingjue thing would fall apart with both Nie Huaisang and JGY incapacitated, as well as the whole Qin Su thing... blah. Wanted to change the dead bird thing since I was annoyed at myself for copying a fandom trope but couldn’t think of anything better.

Basically the points I wanted to reach were:

Sizhui and Jingyi note that the spell reveals your ‘true colours’ lol

WWX is eventually caught and interrogation reveals that he also has the virus even tho he has a very weak golden core and they realise he must be a demonic cultivator; some pity because he seems so happy without memories of abuse (his happy antics are even kind of familiar... hmm)

Full clarification that WWX is the virus carrier: it’s a golden core imbalance caused by the imperfect resurrection which infectiously causes qi deviation for people who come into contact with his demonic cultivation and triggered by emotional upheaval which is why JC gets the full thing IMMEDIATELY lol

WWX was trolling at first but then actually DOES forget everything (caused by something with LWJ? Maybe a gay panic lol), but still knows his shit and explains that if it’s an imbalance then the opposing yang/yin energy must be demonic in nature so they should just huff a demonic seal or something lol

^ political statement that demonic cultivation isn’t evil, just ~opposite~

Jin Ling has recovered a bit and says he will talk to MXY but is like wait that’s… not him?? like yes I know he forgot everything but it’s really, really Not Him???

Interrogation of JGY’s spotty memory leads to deduction of what scrolls of WWX’s MXY learnt—body sacrifice and summoning

The cure is demonic energy + confessing your sins and being happy you fucks

And then like the one scene I actually had in mind when I wrote this: WWX confused but yelling MXY is not my name!!! And LWJ, on the brink of forgetting everything, still says, “Wei Ying,” recognising him immediately despite everything. Much shock, so drama.

#mdzs #wangxian #fanfic idea #not writing this though

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seyaryminamoto · 5 years

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Rejoice! Long-Winded Anon is here with another question. You have dedicated a lot of time and chapter space developing the side characters more than many fics usually would because most authors focus much more on the main characters, bending or even sacrificing other in-universe elements to fit their preferred vision, as shipping fics often do. But you take much more care writing other characters. Was that planned? Or spontaneous in the flow of plotting and world building?

On great measure it’s spontaneous, but it’s mainly because the story has required it. I will say, I did have a lot of canon characters presence when the story started out. Often readers seemed to be just thrilled to recognize old characters in new roles, and I had been working, up until then, with the notion that the more canon characters I used, the happier I’d keep everyone, pretty much.

So, all the way back in the first arc we had Shoji, a one-time character in canon, from the Headband, taking up a recurring role in the story as clerk in the Grand Royal Dome. Likewise, Song was a one-time canon character and she took on a role that turned her into a constant presence in the story, with her own development and relationships with the main characters. Smellerbee has only featured for one chapter, but she was there anyhow. Piandao trains Sokka, same role he had in canon, but for a longer period of time and eventually vanishes for yet-to-be-revealed plot reasons. Chan and Ruon Jian had roles too, Chan a relatively brief one so far, Ruon Jian a constant but background role nonetheless: marrying Mai off to a completely unknown character could have been an easier way out, but offering a one-time canon character further relevance actually might intrigue certain readers, I guessed. There’s June’s very controversial role from early on in the story too, Toph’s first sponsor is the same guy who was hired by her parents to track her down in canon, Xin Fu. Jet’s initial appearance is brief, even if his hypnosis might have helped many readers guess he’d come back for more eventually. Even Haru, who yes, is relevant in canon but he only shows up in a few episodes regardless, gets a bigger role here as Ty Lee’s gladiator. The hammer-wielding earthbender from Zuko Alone? He’s the Twin Hammer, the earthbender Sokka fights in Garsai’s Arena, and the first earthbender he defeats.

Yeah, there were lots of less important characters even at the early stages of the story, and several OCs who didn’t amount to much. Smellerbee’s sponsor? Literally got his name from a brand of eggrolls that they used to sell in my country XD Hosang bite-sized eggrolls were so nice… and as I needed a name, that came to mind and he was her sponsor. The Spawn of the Volcano is also an OC, as is the Hallowed Rock and frankly nearly every gladiator who’s not easily identifiable. But many unfamiliar and new characters, like Kuan, Aonu and Renzhi, Kino, Tiang, Seethus, the homeless people Azula helps, Haiyan and Yang, the entirety of the Blue Pack, Hina, most gladiators introduced after Haru…? Practically all of them are outright OCs, and that’s because I really felt I would have been stretching believability past an excessive point if somehow I kept choosing to repurpose characters who had showed up in canon at some point.

To put things simply… Miyuki and the Herbalist couldn’t have showed up if I didn’t have Sokka and Azula traveling to the Herbalist Institute. Aunt Wu as well, along with Meng, couldn’t have showed up believably in the story if they didn’t go to Makapu. Even Jeong Jeong is very deliberately operating in the northwestern Earth Kingdom because that is where Aang finds him in canon. If I’d featured them in locations that were completely incompatible with who they were established to be in canon, I would have been hurting the story rather than enriching it.

So I can’t, for instance, have Onji and Hide and Shoji and basically all of Aang’s classmates from the Headband moving to the Capital when they all lived in an island in the outskirts of the Fire Nation, because yeah, maybe some would have moved away (like Shoji did)! But would they all travel and move away to the same places? Would they all choose professions that coincidentally would align with whatever Sokka and Azula are up to at the moment, so that they’re relevant to the story somehow? Seems like a stretch, doesn’t it?

I really think I just reached a point where I couldn’t stretch believability so far without risking the story’s integrity. I couldn’t just make Hide Azula’s Guard Captain, for example, when all logic dictates that there should be lots of competent firebenders and soldiers in the Fire Nation who would be far more suited for the role than a completely common boy who showed no special aptitudes in canon other than being an annoying teacher’s pet. Hide apparently would have grown to be in the military, says the Wikia, but how many soldiers does the Fire Nation military have? Soooo many… and why would we not get to know them? Why should we only stick to the ones we met through canon, when there are already so few of those and most of them wouldn’t suit the role of Azula’s Guard Captain anyhow?

That logic steered me towards OCs over canon characters in the later stages of the story. Kino, Aonu, Renzhi, Yang, Haiyan, the entire Blue Pack, Hina, Rhone, Seethus… they’re all new characters, but as long as they fit in the roles the story needs them to fulfill, there’s no real reason for them to feel out of place the way they could if I was forcing them in, the way some writers do with overpowered OCs who break all logic in the setting they’re written into. Rhone, in particular, received far from a warm welcome when I introduced his character, but his character is an answer to a question canon brought up but didn’t really address at all: Yon Rha confirmed in the Southern Raiders that there WAS a leak of information in the South Pole that enabled them to figure out there was one last waterbender there. Canon never addressed this. I’m not going to pretend my way of addressing it is the one way to go… but it’s something. Likewise, Sokka’s increasing popularity would only logically result in him developing a fanclub like the one we saw for Suki early on in the story: why should the characters in that fanclub be anyone we already knew? There are so many people living in the Capital, lots of them unknown in canon, but they’re there. Is it more reasonable for common people who live in a city to be part of this club, or for people like, I don’t know, Star, to move all the way from Ba Sing Se only to fawn all over Sokka in the Fire Nation Capital? Which option makes more sense, ultimately?

And that’s really where my logic went in the end. ATLA did a decent job at showing us the common, ordinary folk who make a living in their world despite the chaotic war. Those are the people Aang helped often, and they didn’t all need some insanely exaggerated reason to be where they were, or to be who they were. Had I dragged them out of their natural living spaces, like for instance making Jin into a gladiator? It would have been ridiculous to no end. Her role and story work in Gladiator because it feels plausible within what canon established for her. And that’s how I’ve tried to keep it for all the canon characters I use. If there are no canon characters who can fulfill a certain role? Then an OC it is!

I admit, it was a lot of fun repurposing characters, but stories like mine reach a point where you can’t really do that believably anymore. I think starting off with as many canon characters in relevant roles as possible did help a lot with capturing the interest of readers who were intrigued by how much the world they knew from ATLA had changed in this setting, but it wasn’t sustainable to do that forever.

As for focusing more on canon characters than on OCs, I’m pretty sure I’ve done that, on the most part. Perhaps the only exceptions for it are characters like Rui Shi, Xin Long and Kino, but other than them I think the core cast of the story is comprised by canon characters. I guess I might be forgetting someone important, I don’t know anymore xD but as to why OCs get attention where they would just be standing in the background in many other stories… I guess because I’m not a big fan of static characters with little to no personality. Not to say all my OCs have personalities, pretty sure I have some terribly flat ones xD but I do want my characters to feel like real people with lives of their own, whether OCs or not. So when Dong cries a river because his girlfriend Yumiko dumped him, he feels like a character whose life didn’t just begin as soon as Azula stepped into his room to inspect it. When Kino airs his grievances to Aang and Katara about how his fellow soldiers ignore him no matter what he does, he also feels like someone who’s had struggles, however ridiculous they were, before he got to know them. When Haiyan and Yang have no money because they eloped and have been struggling to get on their feet ever since, it’s clear they’re going through their own problems too. Rui Shi may not have any issues of that magnitude, but he has a very obvious difficulty: his charge makes his life unnecessarily difficult ever since she got it into her head to get a gladiator :’D And there’s next to no reason for him to be pleased for that.

Ultimately, writing an OC is no different from writing a canon character as long as you let them have lives of their own, even if simple lives. And that’s what has guided me into writing this story and the characters featuring in it as I have.

#gladiator #ocs #... secret to ocs maybe?#I dunno #anyways people need to be less afraid of using OCs if they really need them #especially in coherent roles #where you can't have anyone else #also um I've added a fuckton of my old OCs into the story since ages ago #obviously not a lot of people know or can even notice because most of them are unknown BUT #one day I'm gonna draw 'em #in all their forms (?)#because I need practice on clip art studio whatsitsname #and that's my best idea for it #so HAHAHAHA #OC SPREE GALORE ONE DAY #MARK MY WORDS!!!#long-winded anon

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takadasaiko · 5 years

Text

Second Chances: Chapter Three

FFN II AO3

Summary: Steve has every intention of returning the Infinity Stones to their correct place in the timeline and heading back to his own. His problems start when he makes an impulse decision to jump over to 1946 and Peggy decides to go back home with him. It only gets more complicated from there when Howard tags along with them to 2023. Tony lives fix-it fic.

Chapter Summary: There's no turning back for Steve now and Tony tries to manage expectations for his recovery.

Chapter Three

The Man Out Of Time. That's what they had called him over the years since Fury had pulled him from the ice, and Steve had never felt more like it than that moment. He was frozen there, two worlds colliding, and he couldn't find the words he needed. The ones she deserved.

I'm sorry.

I never stopped thinking of you.

I found my way home.

I love you, Peggy Carter.

Instead, he opened his mouth and all that came out was, "I still have your photo."

Her smile made it to her eyes and she reached forward, her touch warm in the cool air. Her hand drifted up, fingers brushing his cheek. He watched her watching him, taking him in, and slowly her expression shifted into confusion. "You're older."

"It's a long story," he answered softly.

"We have time."

Angie cleared her throat awkwardly. "I was just on my way out, but I wanna hear this story as soon as I get back, got it?"

"I'm sure there will be quite a story to tell," Peggy murmured.

"I'll put the kettle on," Jarvis offered, and Steve had almost forgotten he was there.

Howard followed him in. "How 'bout something stronger? Unless Peg drank all the good stuff?"

"You'll find your liquor cabinet barely touched, Howard," she answered, amusement lacing her voice. She turned back to Steve who was still frozen in place. "Won't you come in?"

"Right," he managed, following her into the house that he thought somehow looked bigger on the inside than the out. His gaze swept the antique wood - was it antique yet? - and the lavish setup. Definitely Howard's home.

"Angie and I were neighbors and there was an… incident. Howard offered one of his homes for a bit."

"He mentioned you cleared his name."

Peggy's laugh was soft. "He didn't make it easy." Those pretty brown eyes flickered back to him. "Steve…"

"I shouldn't be here," he said in a rush. "I know I shouldn't. You've got a life and I'm not supposed to be here."

She reached forward, her hand touching his. "But you are. You're here."

"But I shouldn't be."

"You're not making any sense." She glanced back to where both Howard and Jarvis had disappeared to, giving them a moment. One stolen moment, he knew, and as her fingers brushed against his palm Steve leaned forward. She met him halfway, ready for the kiss that he had so desperately wanted for years now. Her fingers found his hand, her other hand reaching up to take hold of his jacket sleeve and pull him deeper into the kiss.

Finally they broke, and he found her staring up at him. He'd never forgotten how much he loved her, but looking her in the eyes brought all those feelings crashing down around him again and again. They made his next words that much harder. "I can't stay."

"What?"

"I…." He swallowed hard. There was no easy way to slide into the confession of where he was from, so he started from the beginning. She was patient with him as he wound through the story, Howard joining them not too far into it with three glasses and a bottle of whiskey. He told them about going into the ice and about waking up sixty-six years later. They held their questions - Howard by a sharp elbow to the ribs once or twice - as he gave them broad strokes. The Avengers. Bucky. Thanos. And finally the stones he had just returned.

"Time travel," Howard breathed. "I'll be damned."

"I know it's… a lot," Steve managed. "Sounds like a lot when you lay it all out like that, but it's all true."

Howard took a long sip of his drink and refilled it. "I'd love to meet the scientist that put it together."

Steve bit his tongue at that, and as much as he'd had to drink, he still didn't think Howard missed it.

"But you're home," Peggy pressed. "You've done what you needed to do. It's over. You can stay."

"She's not wrong, pal. I mean, I may be limited by the technology of my time, but in theory two of you could exist in the same timeline. Probably wouldn't even cross paths once the other one was found."

Steve tightened his grip on his glass. "I want to." He risked a look at Peggy. "Believe me I do, but you're going to have a life. Meet a guy, have a family."

"I can have that with you."

She didn't even pause on that one and Steve tried for a smile. He'd seen Tony and Pepper over the years and he'd be lying if he said he weren't a little jealous of everything the younger man had found. He wanted it. He wanted it with her.

"It is my life you know," Peggy said firmly. "I do get a say in it."

"I promised them I'd be back."

"Alright then. I'll go with you."

Steve glanced over to Howard, but he was grinning. "Her life, Steve. And if you've ever tried to stop Peg from doing something, you know you'd have more luck stopping a moving train with your bare hands." He stopped, blinking owlishly at him. "Bad example. Outa the three of us, you might actually manage it."

That pulled a laugh from the blond. "Probably not." He looked over to Peggy. "You do so much here. You will do so much."

"And someone else will fill my shoes. Just this once, I want to be able to make my choice. I choose you."

"I have no idea how to replicate what Tony and Bruce did for the suit that would get you there."

"You got yours?" Howard asked.

"Yeah."

"Give me a few days with it. Let me see what I can turn up."

He was running out of excuses. Though, if he were honest, he never would have come if he truly wanted to hold onto them. She wanted to go back with him. To live their lives out together. She wasn't the only founder of SHIELD. As long as Howard was there he would make sure everything got to where it needed to go.

Slowly he nodded. "Okay."

"Okay!" Howard shouted, clapping his hands and popping to his feet. He swayed dangerously as he did and laughed as Steve stood to steady him. "It'll be fun. Just like old times. Might even go for some fondue."

Steve groaned at the joke and his old friend just grinned. Peggy slipped her hand into his. They had this. Together, this might actually work.

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

He was supposed to be home by now. Or, at least, she'd assumed that he would be home by now. Tony had always bounced back from whatever injuries he suffered faster than most, but even from the grave twice over Thanos had a hold on him and was dragging him down. He had finally managed to get out of the hospital bed, but couldn't make it very far without ending up in a heap on the floor. Tony kept trying though, stubborn as he was, but he didn't seem to be building up any stamina. Instead he'd hit a wall in his recovery, slamming so hard into it that Pepper worried that she might lose him after all as he tried to break through.

There were options. There were always options, even if he didn't always like them. When he had the energy he worked on a design for a set of braces that would help support his injured right side. It might not be under his own power, but getting him up on his feet for more than just a handful of steps would help his mood. The problem was that it wasn't just his arm or his leg that was battered. His heart had taken a hit, and as weakened as it was now it left him dragging. He didn't have the energy to get things done that he was trying to do. At least the braces would help hold him on his feet and possibly even give him some range of motion in his right arm. It was a start, even if it would fix the core problem.

But maybe something else would.

Pepper took a seat next to Rhodey on the couch in the private room, her blue eyes never leaving the hospital bed where Morgan laid curled up with her daddy, both sound asleep. "He's holding back on something."

She saw him stiffen out of the corner of her eye and that was the tell. She had hit the nail on the head.

"About what?" Rhodey ventured, his tone careful.

"Options," Pepper pressed. "You give him half a moment to think and he'll come up with a dozen options. Give him a full moment and he'll have twice that."

"He has the kid working on the braces…"

Pepper turned and looked her husband's best friend dead in the eye. "There's more. If he's not telling me then he's telling you. What is it?"

"Why do you think there's —"

Pepper quirked an eyebrow and watched Rhodey sigh, his dark gaze shifting over to Tony. "The ARC reactor has been discussed."

"What about it?"

"Reimplanting it." He paused, and Pepper let him pull his thought together. "He designed the one in Afghanistan to power the magnetic, but it also worked to support his heart after the damage done."

"Could it do that now?"

Rhodey shrugged. "From what I know about it it could be repurposed. Dr Palmer liked the idea when Banner mentioned it."

"Then what stopped it?"

"Tony."

They both fell silent for a moment and Pepper looked back to her husband. Weeks. He had been in that hospital for weeks now. She had thought he wanted to come home as badly as she wanted him there. "Why?"

Rhodey didn't answer right away. Finally he pulled in a deep breath. "He thought you'd be against it."

"Against saving his life?" she demanded indignantly.

He made a small, noncommittal noise. "You know Tony. He fixated. He connects things in his mind, and you were the reason he got it removed in the first place. Somewhere along the way I think he lined up his obsession with building the suits with the reactor."

"If it'll save his life, I don't care," Pepper managed. "He knows that. He should know that."

"It's Tony. He's complicated."

That was an understatement if she had ever heard one. "Why didn't he say anything?"

"He knows the stress you're dealing with," Rhodey said quietly. "I mean, how long has it been since you slept in your own bed?"

"It's a two hour trip home. I don't…. we rented a condo here."

"It's not home though. Tony knows that. Hell, Pepper. He loves you. The fact that he even notices how much you've given up to be here every day shows that. He's trying, but if you're okay with it - and you gotta be really okay with it - it has to come from you."

"Do you think it'll help him?"

"Bruce and Palmer seem to."

She nodded slowly. "Then it's not a question."

"Now you just have to convince him of that."

Pepper nodded. That she could do. It wasn't always easy, but she could talk Tony Stark into taking a different path ninety-nine percent of the time. If it would save his life, she'd make sure it happened.

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

He was exhausted. It seemed like he was always exhausted these days. Even when he woke up his body threatened to pull him right back under, and it didn't help when he saw the sun setting just beyond the hospital window.

What did help was the feel of a little body curled up against his and Tony looked down to find Morgan laid out halfway on top of him. Her little hand clutched at his t-shirt and she was snoring softly where she was, her eyelids fluttering with a dream of some sort. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. As frustrating and sometimes terrible as everything had been since he woke up in the hospital, seeing her eased the ache. The physical, the emotional over the new losses…. Tony cringed, reaching his left hand up to run his fingers through his daughter's dark hair. He still hadn't shaken the loss from Cap's disappearance. There were no answers, no definites, and he wondered if this was what his father had felt when Steve had gone into the ice so many years before. There was a gnawing uncertainty. A painful question that lingered. He might never know what had stolen Captain American from the world. Or what had taken his friend from him right after he had gotten him back.

Tony pushed a soft breath through his nose. He'd wanted things to even out after everything was said and done. Morgan was obsessed with Iron Man, but there had always been questions about Captain America. His kid was smart. Even if she didn't know she knew it, there were questions about why he wasn't there when he should have been. Questions that Tony couldn't have answered then. She'd seen the shield and she'd known the name. He had wanted to introduce her to the person more than just in passing. Maybe give her a real figure to look up to rather than the ghost of a legend that his own father had set before him growing up. Now he couldn't. Now Steve was a ghost all over again.

"Hey."

Dark eyes blinked hard and came to focus on the blue ones staring down at him. Pepper leaned in and pressed a kiss to his left temple, the touch pushing back the pain.

"How're you feeling?"

"Tired," he answered honestly.

"Yeah." She moved to take a seat on the bed next to them, her gaze drifting down to Morgan. There was something weighing on her mind, and Tony wasn't sure if he was ready to hear it or not. It took a long moment for her to gather it together, and when she did she reached out to stroke Morgan's hair. "Would the reactor help?"

"Huh?"

"The ARC reactor. If you were to design a new one, could you make it so that it could give your heart the support it needs?"

"Hon, where're you getting -"

"Of all the things that they could do, that actually sounds like the least intrusive. Remove the plate over the cylinder, insert the new reactor, right?"

"It'd be a little more complicated than that."

"But would it work?"

He cringed, feeling like he was walking into something he'd rather not, but he didn't dare lie to her. "Maybe. Probably. Theoretically."

"Then do it."

He blinked hard. "Do it?"

"Design it. Have Dr Palmer insert it." Her hand moved to his face, her touch gentle and she held her eyes. "I know I'd told you we'd be okay…. But we need you. I need you. Whatever it takes."

A long moment stretched and he finally nodded, reaching a hand up and she took it instantly. "Whatever it takes," he echoed the words that had set this whole chapter of chaos into motion. Maybe now they would help to set him on steadier ground. He tightened his hold. "Just not here."

"What do you mean?"

"I need out. No more in-patient stays. I'm not handing the reactor specs over to someone to do it on their own. You gotta help me convince Palmer I can manage outside."

"Tony, our house is too far away…"

"So we extend the stay where you've been. It's close to the hospital if anything goes wrong, but if it goes right I can use the New York office's R&D labs, you don't end up spending every other night breaking your neck on hospital sofa. Everybody wins."

He watched her, fully ready for an argument, but it never came. Instead she leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"You've obviously thought it through. If you say you can do it, I'm right there with you. Let's get you better."

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

TBC

Notes: It's been a very long, very tiring day, but I'm finally getting this up. Hope you guys enjoy!

Next Time: Howard explores the tech needed to get Peggy back to 2023 along with Steve while Tony works on an upgraded ARC reactor that will give him the fighting chance he needs.

#Endgame fix it fic #Steve Rogers #Peggy Carter #Howard Stark #Tony Stark #Pepper Potts #James Rhodes

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fandomss-girl-genius · 6 years

Text

Monday-8th girl genius event week: space age AU

@girlgeniusevents my first time writing a fic so sorry if it’s no good. Zeetha and Agatha go to the moon to search for Skiffander in Outer Space.

Word count: 1,909

Warnings: none

“Hand me that wire cutter Zeetha!” Agatha called. She had been working on something big, and it was almost finninshed.

Wiring some of the last pieces together, Agatha looked up. There it was, the machine that would take her to the moon and back.

“Ah.. my lady, are you sure this will work? You have yet to produce an heir, and I will not permit the Heterodyne line to be wiped out.”

“Tch, you worry to much. Besides, I’m implanting your consciousness into the rocket, so you’ll be there with me.” The Castle had been nervous for a long time, and the only way Agatha had been able to go was to bring it with her.

“The systems should be calibrating. Do you have control?”

“Yes my lady. How ever delightful to be in a weapon of mass destruction!”

Agatha groaned. The Castle was adamant that after the test, it be launched into space so she could fry enemy towns off the map. It also wanted to be in the rocket forever, but she would make sure that didn’t happen.

“We talked about this. The rocket can’t be salvaged, but I promise I’ll make you a new, more terrifying object of annihilation. OK?”

“Of course, my lady. But still...”

“I’ll give it a death ray.”

“You do build the greatest death rays,” commented Zeetha, “but at this rate, we’re going to miss the deadline!”

“Alright Zeetha, that should be it. Hopefully we’ll be able to see Skiffander from there.” Searching for Skiffander had been the reason for the trip, which was why Zeetha was coming too. On the moon they would have a better chance at seeing if it was on Mars, due to the fact there was no atmosphere.

“I know, but I have to get to the moon before the earth passes in front of it. This is my one chance to see my family. I can’t blow it.”

“Castle, contact Gil and Tarvek, tell them I’m going. I don’t want them to worry.”

“Yes my lady. Would you like me to contact Mr. Higgs as well?”

“No!!” Zeetha practically shouted. “Err... I mean, no, that’s fine, I don’t want him to worry.” Ever since Zeetha had been badly hurt on a mission, he hadn’t wanted her out of his sight. Zeetha had to pull some strings to make him go away for a bit.

“Alright Castle, everyone’s strapped in. We can leave now.”

“Yes my lady, I’m priming the ignition sequence now.”

“5.... 4.... 3.... 2.... 1....”

The rocket had been designed to reach speeds of 29,000 kilometers an hour in order to get through the atmosphere. Even then Agatha had put failsafes into the rocket, but she knew that if anything happened, she was dead.

“My lady, there appears to be a problem. I cannot fix it, and we are very quickly approaching the thermosphere. If we cannot fix it in time we will have to remain in orbit until the problem is solved.”

Zeetha was angry. “No! Not after all of this time! We have to fix it. Castle, what is the problem?”

“While we were entering the mesosphere, a meteor appeared to crack one of the windows. The ship is quickly losing pressure, and if we go into space now, you will die.”

“I think we have bigger problems,” Agatha shouted from the other side of the ship, “Something’s happened to the wiring. The manual controls are not responding.”

“This can’t be happening! I’ve waited so long for this moment. I can’t fail now. My family is counting on me.” Zeetha began to shout. She was dangerously close to crying, and when she cried, she tended to break stuff.

“Zeetha, don’t worry. We can fix this. We have an hour before we enter the exosphere, we can fix our problems here.” Agatha tried to calm her down, but Zeetha was still unstable.

“Castle, can you identify the broken window?”

“Yes it appears to be the one to the right of Zeetha. My lady, I can help you with the control unit, one of the wires seems to have fried. I will direct you to it.”

“Good. Zeetha and I will put on the suits. See if you can keep the air pressure in the cabin stable for the moment.”

“Yes my lady.”

Zeetha sighed. She was trying to be strong, but Agatha could see right through her.

“Are you OK?” Agatha asked. Zeetha was her best friend, looking out for each other were their jobs

“I don’t know. When I first met you, I was so happy to hear that someone actually knew about Skiffander. I’ve lost hope I’d ever find it so many times, I can’t do it again. This trip meant so much to me, and I thought maybe I might actually see it.” Zeetha sniffed, and zipped up the front of her bottom layer.

“Zeetha, I promise you, no matter what, you will see Skiffander again. No matter what it takes.”

Agatha began to step into her top layer, and pulled up the strong polymer. It was of her own design, crafted to be strong and durable. It was heat resistant, and it blocked radiation. She had made it all herself, and planned to explore the bottom of a local lake with it.

“Wow,” said Zeetha, changing the subject,” these suits are great! I can’t wait to spacewalk.”

“You like them? They took days to make. I had the construct a sewing clank just to finnish them.”

“My lady, I have found the issue with the unit. The resistor that controlled the flow from the batteries to the rest of the inferstructure was destroyed.”

“Worse and worse,” muttered Zeetha,”I remember that was in the back. We’ll have to reconstruct the whole panel.”

“It’s going to be OK. Castle, change in plan. Direct Zeetha on how to replace the window while I get to work on the unit.”

“Yes my lady.”

“Zeetha, you’re going to have to keep calm. We can do this, but it will be tight. You need to follow The Castle’s instructions to the letter. One wrong move and we’re both dead. If you can’t do it, let me know. If you ever need any help, I’ll be over here.”

“I think I have it. If it’s any chance to see my home, I’ll take it.”

“Good. Castle, where are the tools?”

Zeetha day in front of the window and took a breath. She then began to get out the tools, and strapped them to the walls so they wouldn’t float away.

“OK Castle, what first?”

“Take the power ratchet and use it to remove the bolts.”

Zeetha placed it over the bolts one at a time, and soon there were none left on the window.

“Next, get out the cutting torch and use it to remove the window from the metal. If you have any issues, please tell my lady, because the torch can operate at up to 3,480 ° Celsius.”

“Thanks Castle, but I think I got this.”

Zeetha slowly removed the glass pane, cutting around the entire outside of the window, and then popped it out.

“There. What next?”

“You must do this as quickly as possible. You have not gotten rid of the nitrogen in your system, so you could get the bends. Leave the space craft with the replacement panel. You will experience lack of gravity. You may have problems moving. Take the welding torch and first weld the outside of the window. Make sure there are no gaps, and be careful.”

Zeetha took the torch and the window, and floated outside. The safety tether kept her secure, but she hated the feeling of not being able to control her body.

Slowly, she began to weld. She knew her time was limited, but if it was done sloppy, they would all die. She was halfway done. “Halfway done,” Zeetha muttered,”halfway done. Soon I will see Skiffander again.” The glass was 4 centimeters thick, and strong. She was almost there. She could feel it.

“Hey Castle, I’m done. Open the hatch so I can get back in.”

“Of course.” The hatch slid open, and Zeetha moved back into the rocket, and began welding inside too.

“Hey Agatha, i finnished up the window. How’s the control panel going?”

“Not good. This could take an hour before I’m done.”

“We don’t have an hour.” Zeetha was getting impatient. “Let me help. What’s holding you up?”

“The resistor we need,” explained Agatha,” is not on board. I had thought we packed one, but we didn’t. I’m repurposing some others right now, but I’m worried I won’t have the controls up in time. Castle, how much longer until we exit the thermosphere?”

“I am predicting around 25 minutes my lady.”

“No! Agatha, can’t we slow down?”

“Not with the manual controls down.”

Zeetha was dangerously close to crying. “No,” she said, her voice getting softer and softer. “No, no, no, no, no! We can’t give up! We were so close.”

Agatha sat on the floor of the shuttle, repurposing the resistors. “Zeetha, please don’t cry. I would never give up. This is your dream, what kind of friend would I be? We will make it to the moon before the deadline.”

“Agatha, we’ve met so many challenges, and we can’t step forward without taking to steps back. We’ve been up here, working like mad trying to survive. I’ve lost hope. Agatha, I think we should call it off. I think-“

“Yes! I did it! The resistor should work now. Castle, how is the air pressure doing now?”

“The window was patched nicely my lady.”

“Zeetha you’ve done it! We’ve done it! Quickly, help me reassemble the panel! We’re going to the moon.”

Zeetha quickly wiped her face and joined Agatha at the front. “Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me. Maybe, I’ll find a clue too Skiffander up there.”

“My lady, we have 10 minutes before the ship exits the thermosphere. We must move quickly.”

“Zeetha, hand me the wrench!”

“Give me those screws to your left!”

“I need the pink wires!”

“Good now hand me the blue ones!”

Agatha assembled the manual controls in 7 minutes, and soon she had screwed on the front and was brushing herself off.

“OK Zeetha, we’re entering the exosphere now.”

“Got it Agatha.”

The two made sure their suits were in order, and began to drive the rocket. They drove towards the moon, and began to engage landing protocols.

“Zeetha, we need to lower the feet of the lander,” Agatha shouted.

“Got it,” Zeetha called back, and began.

As they got off the lander, they set up their equiptment and began to study the moon. Agatha had created a telescope big enough to create images of stuff billions of kilometers away. She began to inspect Mars, while taking samples of the moon.

“Who knows when we’ll be here again,” Agatha said, “We should colect all we can from it.”

“Look! There! I think I found it!” Zeetha was looking at a small, green dot on Mars, most likely the only vegetation on the planet.

“You’re right Zeetha! That must be it! We found it.”

Zeetha began to cry. “I’ve finally found it. I really did it. I found my home. Maybe one day, I’ll be there again.”

“Zeetha, I promise, I will do my best to get you back,”said Agatha,”you are my teacher, and my friend.”

#girl genius event week

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talysalankil · 5 years

Text

talys’s great nanowrimo 2019 debacle: the post

i felt like being grandiose, just not grandiose enough that I’d properly capitalize things. bear with me.

So I’ve had a bit of a time figuring out what to do for NaNoWriMo this year. So it’s venting time.

I’m also using this to do like, a status report on all my writing endeavors.

Okay so I haven’t had any new novel idea in a while now. I mean, that’s fine. I have a massive pile of WIPs anyway. But (and I think I already made a post about it earlier) the problem for nanowrimo was this:

I didn’t want to do a rewrite of any of the existing drafts:

FEITS v3 was paused at about halfway done in 2017, and while I’ve had a bunch of ideas for it, I haven’t really taken the time to work on them.

Psychopomp’s first draft is complete, but it could use a rewrite

Tangled Stars and Dragged to the Underworld are about 50k each with a missing third act

Eloped in the Night is a 15k word mess that needs major rewriting because it was still Brooding Lust when I wrote those)

Of these five books, four have planned sequels, but: I didn’t want to write a sequel, since none of them anywhere near a final stage. That being

FTEITS (for which I wrote like 30k of a first draft of book 2, most of which is good for the trash what with all the changes I’ve made),

Psychopomp, whose sequel would have been the best candidate in this category honestly because I don’t think the rewrites would be super structural

Eloped/Dragged are part of the same universe though mostly standalones, but each of the subsequent books in that series would draw from one or both of these, and like I said, neither are even a complete first draft.

While I have a bunch of fic ideas, I didn’t want to do a fic for nanowrimo because it felt like cheating.

Which left me with um…like, nothing. Well, not quite.

So you may or may not know this (I kind of forget where I put information online) but my first draw to storytelling was actually video games. In broad strokes, here’s a quick history of that:

As a very young child (we’re talking 4-8 years old here), I’d play pretend with my plushies

When I got Crash Bandicoot 2 (one of my first video games I was really into), I started to imagine various games where my plushies would be the protagonists. Inspired by Crash, Zelda, other games…I remember once outlining a 15-part series of games around my favorite plushy, each of which was basically subdivided into chunks of different genres. I even invented a “dark age of the franchise”.

When I got Final Fantasy X and then got another gaming magazine with a walkthrough of Final Fantasy X, I started inventing a self-insert game based heavily on it, and wrote most of my ideas in the format of a walkthrough. I even parroted the editing style because I was like nine.

That story was iterated upon several times, and eventually yielded the character of Talys Alankil (well, sort of—the name actually originated in Guild Wars and was then repurposed. Somewhere in the lore, the two of them are like, extremely distant relatives, or were until I decided all copyrighted works were purged from canon). Thanks for creating my brand, 13 and 15-year-old mes.

I actually got into computer engineering because of games, except I then realized the storytelling was what interested me. Oops. I mean I like programming but I’d never want to work as a programmer in a game.

That tangent was completely pointless but whatever, this is the state of the talys post.

Anyway. Point is. I got a new idea for a game earlier this year. Life Is Strange 2 meets Octopath Traveler by way of Vanitas from Kingdom Hearts as the protagonist. This is the first time I have an idea that I can phrase in this kind of pitch so I’ll indulge. Fight me.

Working title is just “The Road” though obviously it needs some work, and over the past few months I’ve actually done some pretty good prep work, so I thought, hey, why not challenge myself this nanowrimo and write a script for a game instead of a novel!

And like, there’s no reason why not. I’m actually feeling pretty attached to the protagonist already, I’ve been wanting to try scrivener’s script writing tool, it could be fun. Of course, the problem is that a script for a game (especially this one) is inerently nonlinear and requires thorough planning, which I have not done. And nanowrimo starts…technically tomorrow night if I can still stay up past midnight.

[Second tangent time: I’ve been going for a teaching degree, which has forced me to reset my sleep schedule extremely hard and I hate it]

So that brings me option 2. Well, technically there are two options here, but only one that’s remotely viable.

I may have mentioned it before but in FTEITS, Adam and Cell bond over (among other things) a shared favorite book/author. Well, mostly a book. There is also a scene of Adam finding that author’s new book and experiencing nostalgia over his lost life, which may or may not survive the rewrites. The author, incidentally, is my self-insert in that world, and will also not be an active character in the plot of the books, but I just felt like mentioning it. And yes, that means my protagonists are fans of my work. Sue me.

The one they’re both a fan of is titled Snow to Ashes (I remember way way back, when I randomly picked a title “The Brain is Out”, before I had any idea what it was about). It is, incidentally, a chance to analyze Adam and Cell’s character arc by proxy and in a microcosm, which is good because I feel that sometimes their arcs are still kind of ill-defined. Basically the story has two protagonist and it is canon that Adam and Cell each relate more to one of them.

The problem with that is that now I’m getting a lot of ideas for Snow to Ashes, and I don’t know if I have the time to work all of these ideas and iron them out before nanowrimo starts.

So that’s where I’m at. Either way I will be pantsing it. I was hoping to get to do some outlining this week before Friday, but it turns out that being tired, having a pretty big spike of executive dysfunction, final fantasy 14, and my parents deciding to watch the TV again after years of not doing it (thus making noise at the time of day that would be perfect for me to write), is not fertile grounds for productivity. I am, incidentally, out of a FF14 subscription in four days, which is very fine by me since that game would also ruin nanowrimo itself, not just the pre-nano prep.

This isn’t really a request for feedback tbh, just, like I said, venting. Hoping to straighten my thoughts and figure out which choice is best.

As a PS i should mention that yes, the Talys Alankil game is also technically a writing option, and I could write a script for that. I mean it’s almost a rewrite because that one has a pretty rigid outline already, but. Yeah. It’s an option too.

Edited: I didn’t mention Malefacta. I didn’t forget about malefacta. I just don’t know what to do with Malefacta. It’s annoying.

Edited2: Remember when I almost wrote a superhero book for nanowrimo 2017? yeah that’s still a project I have somewhere. I’m no feeling it though. Sorry, superhero project. You were never meant to be, I guess.

#talys liveblogs nanowrimo #nanowrimo 19 #talysnovel: fteits #talysnovel: psychopomp #talysnovel: tangled stars #talysnovel: eloped #talysnovel: dragged #talysnovel: snow to ashes #talysnovel: the road #i'm using a talysnovel: tag even though it's not a novel idc #talys reboots a universe #I think that's my tag for the Talys game #talysnovel: malefacta #talysnovel: tpe

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hawkland · 7 years

Note

for the in depth fandom questions: svu

@adarafaelbarbas also asked for my SVU thoughts, so here you both go!

And it got long, so I’m putting it all behind cut….

Top 5 favourite characters: Top 2 are no surprise to anyone: John Munch & Fin Tutuola of course. After that? At the moment I’d probably have to say Casey Novak, George Huang, and Don Cragen. But that can vary a bit depending on which episodes/seasons I’ve been watching recently.

Other characters you like: Hmm, well, I’d say I “like” most of the regulars through the years, or else I wouldn’t be a fan in the first place, would I? If I had to pick say five more to round out my top 10, though, I’d probably go with Melinda Warner, Alex Cabot, Olivia Benson of the early seasons, Nick Amaro, and Rafael Barba.

Least favourite characters: Chester Lake, any of the ever-changing ADAs from seasons 10-12, Dale Stuckey (you bastard you killed O’Halloran!), Elliot Stabler from about season 6 onward, Olivia Benson from at least season 16 onward (though she started annoying me at times far before that, especially in her attitude toward Rollins and Amaro in Season 13).

Otps: Munch/Fin, of course, before any others! I also ship Cabenson pretty hard; it was probably my first ship when I was watching the show originally.

Notps: Eeeeeh, I always sort of tread lightly around declaring NOTPs because there are a lot of ships I don’t particularly care for, but my reasons can be weird/personal and I don’t like stirring up wank talking about them or the reasons why. But I will say that I definitely never liked E/O as a romantic ship, only as friends. And I have a personal squick for shipping Fin with anyone but Munch because I just want them to be together (and yet I’ll ship Munch with pretty much anyone else, though maybe not as an endgame ship, so I’m kind of a hypocrite that way? IDK…) I didn’t care for Tuckson, and Barisi…I just honestly don’t really see it, and while I’ve tried reading it in fic I’ve rarely found a story that convinced me or felt in character to my mind. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Favourite friendships: Munch/Cragen, Fin/Amanda, Munch/Amaro, Munch/Benson, Bensler (early seasons before it all got fucked up)

Favourite family: I guess I’ll say Fin, because as messed-up as it may be, I do enjoy the episodes featuring Ken & I love the idea of Fin becoming a grandfather. I also really really want Ken & Alejandro to be together and be happy!

Favourite episodes: With so many seasons it’s hard to narrow it down to even a top 10. But some of the ones I will always rewatch when they’re on include Remorse, Nocturne, Legacy, Manhunt, Countdown, Denial, Careless, Painless, Haunted, Scavenger, Parts, Raw, Screwed, Alternate, Cold, Authority, Zebras, Anchor… ie, most of the very Fin and/or Munch-centric ones.

Favourite season/book/movie: Seasons 2 and 5 are my favorites—2 for the way the team really came together and so many of the cases/episodes featured ALL of the detectives working as a unit. 5 for some of the most interesting cases and the whole loss of Alex/introduction of Casey storyline.

Favourite quotes: Ah, so many but a few off the top of my head:

“If you don’t question authority, you lose your humanity.”

“I just know stuff.”

“That’s my Jew.”

“Once god gives you a uterus, then I’ll listen to your sermon.”

“Even a turd can float.”

Best musical moment: The final montage in Screwed set to Mark Isham’s “Sense of Touch”. The music is perfect and the ending of that episode always gets me emotional.

Moment that made you fangirl/boy the hardest: How do I even narrow it down?!?! Munch and Fin sharing a motel room in Manhunt, maybe, and finally having a bit of a heart-to-heart. That or when Ken has dinner with John to introduce Alejandro because I still insist there is no possible heterosexual context to that scene whatsoever.

When it really disappointed you: Oh so so many times but, probably one of the biggest disappointments for me was last year, all the hype about “Munch returns” when he ended up having all of about 2 minutes screen time—and really didn’t get to have any good interactions with anyone other than Benson & Noah.

Saddest moment: Munch’s retirement. You know, I still cannot watch that episode in its entirety? I’m not ready for the emotional gut-punch.

Most well done character death: Mmm…I might go with Sonya Paxton on that, because it was emotional and sad and yet she also was able to at least, in her death, provide evidence to catch her (and others) killer. Unlike Sister Peg and O’Halloran’s deaths which just felt cheap and unnecessary…and I won’t even go into how I feel about how they killed Mike Dodds (that’s why @ladyzootie and I are working on a story to set THAT right!)

Favourite guest star: Robin Williams in Authority, though I also loved Jeremy Irons, especially in his second appearance in Totem. As much as I love Huang, I would have enjoyed seeing more of Dr. Jackson as well; Irons was perfect in that role and brought a lot to the show with his character.

Favourite cast member: Don’t make me choose between the Belz and Ice-T! I love them both too much to pick a favorite.

Character you wish was still alive: Mike. Dodds.

One thing you hope really happens: That the show either brings on a new full-time detective for the unit or starts using more supporting characters again: show the detectives going to the morgue, working with TARU, working with a psychiatrist instead of having Benson diagnosing and doing everything herself. But, I’m not holding out great hope for that.

Most shocking twist: Shocking in a not-good way: Tuckson. Sorry, I never bought it, I don’t see all this so-called evidence that the writers were “setting it up” for seasons before it happened. Total WTF??!?! for me.

When did you start watching/reading?: I actually vividly remember watching the pilot episode when it first aired in 1999. I’ve pretty much followed it on and off since then, watching regularly at least on thru Season 9 or so and I think that’s about when I lost at least some of my interest. But that said, I was mostly a casual fan until about 2 years ago when I really fell hard into it in a “fannish” way, after rewatching old episodes in reruns.

Best animal/creature: THE MONKEY IN THE BASKETBALL

Favourite location: The original squad room.

Trope you wish they would stop using: SAINT BENSON IS THE ONLY PERSON WHO CAN DO EVERYTHING IN THE SQUAD. ENOUGH ALREADY.

One thing this show/book/film does better than others: Errrr…hmm. These days I can’t think of anything it does better than other shows besides bore and/or annoy me, sorry. In the earlier seasons I’d say it was unique in the way it tackled messy, painful, and often controversial issues of sexuality and “sexually based offenses”. It wasn’t always perfectly PC but it did a good job of presenting complexity and showcasing how societal ideas were changing and being challenged—without just feeling like a soapbox.

Funniest moments: All of Wildlife is pretty hysterically bad but in an entertaining way. In fact Mr. Hawkland just saw it for the first time this weekend and was laughing hysterically at some of the lines in it. But also Countdown, for having such a dark plot, is one of my favorites for all of the great one-liners and funny scenes ( “I’m not tipping all of you”, Munch and the empty coffee can, etc.)

Couple you would like to see: Ha ha ha ha, well of course Munch & Fin, but I know that will never happen. And honestly, even if it did I wouldn’t want it to be acknowledged as canon until the very last episode. Because the writers would surely fuck it up otherwise the way they do every other romance on this show. Otherwise I do kind of like Rollisi, not in an OMG I LOVE THEM sort of way but I do see potential for chemistry, and that Carisi could be a good kind of stabilizing influence on her with her crazy family life. But, would she in turn be good for him? That I’m not so sure about.

Actor/Actress you want to join the cast: I would SO love to see more of Bayard Ellis. His character was great and such a good foil to Benson. I’d love to see Andre Braugher return to the role.

Favourite outfit: Any of Fin’s suits in season 2.

Favourite item: Fin having a picture of Spartacus and Maximus (Ice’s dogs) on his desk (which I never noticed until @sammael77 caught it!)

Do you own anything related to this show/book/film?: A few fan-produced t-shirts, magnets and other odds and ends, my MunchFin iPhone case, and seasons 1-15 on DVD

What house/team/group/friendship group/family/race etc would you be in?: My “squad goals” would be the team from seasons 5-8: Munch, Fin, Benson, Stabler, Cragen, Novak, Warner, Huang. That’s my all-time favorite team.

Most boring plotline: Anything involving the Stabler family.

Most laughably bad moment: “Redchannit”

Best flashback/flashfoward if any: Eh, I think the few times they’ve done as much haven’t been very good. I know I really disliked the way they repurposed season 1 footage for Manhattan Vigil to change what those scenes were initially about.

Most layered character: All right so it’s maybe my bias talking, but Munch! Especially because I “cheat” and include all of his Homicide characterization too. But honestly…Munch really is a lot more than a sarcastic conspiracy theorist. I think where I really love the complexities of his character coming through are his struggles with issues like suicide and assisted suicide, which came through not just in Painless but also Mercy. On one hand he’s such a strong personal choice advocate and on the other, he knows first-hand how difficult it is for family members when a loved one commits suicide. And what about protecting those who are not being given the choice to end their life or live?

But also, I love that he’s one of the few (main) characters the show ever allowed to remain childfree, yet he was also shown to be incredibly caring and good with children (illustrating that not all childfree people hate or are bad with kids; they just know they aren’t meant to raise one full-time.) He has complicated feelings about women, sometimes (especially early on) seeming incredibly bitter and cynical but deep down he is a lonely romantic.

Most one dimensional character: Honestly, at this point, St. Benson the Holy Redeemer of All Rape Victims.

Scariest moment: Hmmm…I’m having a hard time pinpointing this or narrowing it down to a single “scariest” scene. In general I get freaked out any time they show a serial killer’s “work den”, like in Manhunt or Signature. Because thinking about what those victims had to go through before being killed just makes me really feel sick to my stomach and horrified.

Grossest moment: Hyena vomit

Best looking male: Dammit, don’t make me pick between Munch or Fin because I can’t.

Best looking female: Casey Novak

Who you’re crushing on (if any): Of the current cast, only Fin, who just seems to be getting hotter with every passing year. Of all years, of course Munch, but I also crush on Casey and early season baby!butch Benson.

Favourite cast moment: I think I’ll just say all of the episode Countdown, because to me that was ensemble perfection.

Favourite transportation: Eh, doesn’t really seem to apply here to this canon, does it?

Most beautiful scene (scenery/shot wise): Still gonna go with the end of Screwed, because I love that final scene with Fin, Ken and Darius on the courtroom steps.

Unanswered question/continuity issue/plot error that bugs you:

Hahahahahahahah so many so many….

Continuity/plot error: It still bugs the crap out of me (especially as a fic writer who is anal about canon facts) that in Season 2 they messed with Munch’s background from Homicide, and tried to make it sound like he grew up in New York. THAT IS WRONG WRONG WRONG. I’m not going to throw away the family/childhood details we got in Homicide just because the SVU writers were lazy. And it really pains me because it comes up in two of my otherwise favorite episodes (Legacy and Manhunt), so when I’m writing anything where that might come up I have to go through mental gymnastics to explain why he might lie. Or just ignore SVU’s “canon” on that

Unanswered question: WHATEVER HAPPENED TO KEN & ALEJANDRO’S BABY? THAT POOR SURROGATE HAS BEEN PREGNANT FOREVER. Unless that’s just something they’ve completely forgotten about and we’re just to assume Fin is a grandfather now and never talks about it at work while everything and anything Olivia or Amanda does has to relate to them being mothers.

Best promo: Well, I really liked USA Network’s recent “Fin-a-thon” promo…especially for Ice talking about Fin & Munch.

At what point did you fall in love with this show/book: I’ve mentioned this before, but the funny moment when I went from being a casual viewer to developing my current obsession was in Spousal Privilege when Fin said to Amanda: “ I learned two things in my 15 years here at SVU. One: you can’t take this job home to you. Two: you can’t take anyone from this job home with you.” I hadn’t been watching regularly for a number of years so immediately I was like, “WAIT A MINUTE DID HE JUST ACKNOWLEDGE HAVING A THING WITH MUNCH?!” It’s weird the things that set my shippy brain off. Suddenly I wanted to catch up on everything I missed, and that made me then want to rewatch EVERY episode, and mild fannishness became a total obsession.

#snaafu #thanks for the ask #svu #svu thinky thoughts #wow this got long #like a goddamned essay

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thesunnyshow · 4 years

Text

Name: Mae Gi

Age: 23

Writing Blog URL(s): @mae-gi-writes & https://embed.wattpad.com/user/nutmeggu

What fandom(s) do you write for?

The Boyz, EXO, BTS, SVT, Harry Potter and Fantastic Beasts

Nationality: Mauritian

Languages: French, English, Creole

Star Sign: Pisces

Favorite color: Mint!

Favorite food: Xiao Long Bao

Favorite movie: Patriot

Favorite ice cream flavor: Mint and chocolate chip!

Favorite animal: Definitely whales

Coffee or tea? What are you ordering? Coffee all the way!

Dream job (whether you have a job or not): Writer 😍

Go-to karaoke song: Breaking Free High School Musical

If you could have one superpower, what would you choose?

Flying

If you could visit a historical era, which would you choose?

The 70's

If you could restart your life, knowing what you do now, would you?

I Would not. I believe that everything I've experienced was for a reason and I couldn't be happier where I am.

Would you rather fight 100 chicken-sized horses or one horse-sized chicken?

100 chicken-sized horses because that would be cute af

If you were a trope in a teen high school movie, what would you have been?

I like to believe that I'd be a badass tough cookie

Do you believe in aliens/supernatural creatures?

...sometimes.

Fun fact about yourself that not everyone would know?

I am bad at maintaining eye contact so I am always conscious of it.

When did you post your first piece?

I think it was in 2012 that I started my first story!

Do you write fluff/angst/crack/general/smut, combo, etc? Why?

Fluff and angst are my go-to's because they are the ones that I relate to the most. My writing comes from personal experiences, so there's a lot of fluff and angst involved.

Do you write OCs, X Readers, Ships...etc?

YUpp!

Why did you decide to write for Tumblr?

I just started posting without really taking it seriously to be honest. But when people started showing interest, it motivated me to write more and gave me confidence. I also made lots of wonderful writer friends which I am so grateful for!

What inspires you to write?

Life, people, relationships. Writing is also a way for me to process my thoughts of emotions, it's therapeutic.

What genres/AUs do you enjoy writing the most?

Romcom and slice of life mainly. And my guilty pleasure is the best friend to lover AU.

What do you hope your readers take away from your work?

That it makes them laugh, have a good time, or cry in sympathy. I want my characters to reflect real people and I hope that my readers can relate and realize that they are not alone, no matter how tough life may seem sometimes.

What do you do when you hit a rough spot creatively?

I stop writing and listen to music. It allows me to imagine scenarios without me actively writing them.

What is your favorite work and why? Your most successful?

My favourite work is definitely my first novel that I recently published on Amazon! It's sci-fi dystopian and is really close to my heart because every character is a piece of me stitched into them.

My most successful on Tumblr is Deobi Playlist series, which is a fanfiction mashup of the series Hospital Playlist x The Boyz. I think people find it really entertaining and light to read.

Who is your favorite person to write about?

Kevin from The Boyz, Jungkook from BTS.

Do you think there’s a difference between writing fanfiction vs. completely original prose?

There's a difference in terms that some elements are already crafts for you and you approach them in a different perspective. Original prose is completely made up by you.

What do you think makes a good story?

The storyline is important, but characters are definitely the most vital elements in telling a good story.

What is your writing process like?

Depending on the mood, I usually put on a playlist of slow songs and start writing whatever comes to mind on my laptop. Sometimes if I need to figure out a story, I use pen and paper to quickly outline the series of events. I also usually write better at night or early morning.

Would you ever repurpose a fic into a completely original story?

I actually already did! It was named as Entity and was a BTS fanfic that received so much love I decided to alter it into a real novel now called Terminal. It's available on AMAZON.

What tropes do you love, and what tropes can’t you stand?

I am a sucker for Love Triangle tropes and Best Friends to Lovers tropes because, in my experience, they really do happen. I can't stand the "I'm not like other girls" trope, I just think it's overdone and is always portrayed as something that the protagonist needs.

How much would you say audience feedback/engagement means to you?

I definitely don't depend on feedback to write because I write for myself. But getting feedback and seeing people appreciate my work definitely motivates me to believe in myself as a writer. I would not have come this far without support.

What has been one of the biggest factors of your success (of any size)?

I just kept writing, even though it was shit, even though I was sometimes frustrated. No matter how bad it was, I always told myself that I was doing this for me and never listened to outsiders who didn't appreciate my craft.

Do you think fanfic writers get unfairly judged?

Definitely! Just because we write fanfiction doesn't mean we're not writers. I know of so many AMAZING fanfic writers who are so much better than actual authors!

Do you think art can be a medium for change?

Yes, art has always been involved to portray what can't be said. And that is the beauty of it.

Do you ever feel there are times when you’re writing for others, rather than yourself?

Rather than "writing for others" I keep myself disciplined by writing everyday, no matter how bad it might be or how little i write.

Do you ever feel like people have misunderstood you or your writing at times?

Yes, I don't really understand why writing as an art form is so underrated when it is so beautiful, but there is this misconception that writers, especially fanfic writers, are just thirsty fangirls who are obsessed with their biases. No, we are content creators, we write stories because we are artists and take so much time and effort to write these amazing stories.

Do your offline friends/loved ones know you write for Tumblr?

My boyfriend is the only one and he is really supportive.

What is one thing you wish you could tell your followers?

That I appreciate every single one of them for supporting my work, and that every comment, reblog or like just makes my heart feel so full with love. I also wish to tell them to keep dreaming, keep pushing and stay safe

Do you have any advice for aspiring writers who might be too scared to put themselves out there?

Be scared to start. Be scared because that means you're pushing yourself and that's okay. Fear is part of the process but you have to go through that to gain confidence in what you do. Throw yourself under the bus, because that's how it gets easier. And don't compare to other writers because like every artist, your story and your craft, your words and your voice will be different. So believe that you can, and you are worth it.

Are there any times when you regret joining Tumblr?

NEVER.

Do you have any mutuals who have been particularly formative/supportive in your Tumblr journey?

YES!! I'D LIKE TO THANK @pixelelf @choaticdeobi @moondustaeil @aveluant1a @atbzkingdom @thesingingfae1905 @2hyunjae @tbzhours @jenocakes ❤❤❤

Pick a quote to end your interview with:

There's no such thing as perfect writing, just like there's no such thing as perfect despair - Haruki Murakami

#@mae-gi-writes #thesunnyshow #featuredauthor #episode 14 #the boyz #exo #bts #svt #harry potter #fantastic beasts

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