#my first fic in the dr fandom at all at it involves an oc insert into a canon scene haha

[aroseandapen]

Hitting the nail right on the head (or the head on the nail)

Read on AO3

Fandom: Danganronpa V3: Killing Harmony Rating: Teen/Mature? Yeah Pairing: None Word Count: 2366 Summary: In a re-write of a scene from the chapter 3 investigation, Kurochi Ouma finds his brother in the hall lying face-down in his own blood.

Some things to note for this:

I guess this was inspired by the Kokichi-has-a-twin theory, but not actually really related to it (I haven’t even done any research into it actually! And as of right now I’m not interested in jumping into theories and stuff).

Mostly written as I was watching someone play through Chapter 4. As of posting this, I just finished the Chapter 5 trial.

Kurochi is the Ultimate Cryptographer in this. Not relevant in this drabble, though.

Written for Ry! @tricky-leader, who dragged me into hyperfixation hell with this amazing boi.

“I’m going to go back to Angie’s lab,” Kurochi announced, not expecting any response as he turned back to the door. Perhaps he could check the scene again once more—there had to be some clue that pointed towards a victim that wasn’t a vengeful spirit risen from the dead.

“Ah, I’ll come with you—I think I’m done checking on everything in here,” Shuichi said, to his surprise.

“Yes, Angie’s death is the one we should be investigating, it’d be wise to do another look around.” And Maki as well, to his dismay.

Not that he could do anything about it. He shrugged, nudging open the door with an air of nonchalance so as not to betray the tension that he felt. Whenever he looked at Maki, all he could see was her hand around his brother’s throat. Unfortunately, she and Shuichi were investigating together, and Kurochi didn’t think he’d get anywhere if he snapped that no, she could not continue her investigation that would undoubtedly benefit them all during the class trial. So he kept his sighs to himself, and stepped into the hall—

—to find a body on the floor.

His breath tore from his throat in a ragged exhale, the air stolen from his lungs and the heat from his veins. For a good minute, he didn’t understand the scene before him, because it just couldn’t be real. It couldn’t. First Angie… then Tenko… then… but… it couldn’t be—.

A gasp behind him as Shuichi and Maki exited the room startled him, scattered thoughts crashing together like on stretched elastic bands, leaving his mind more tangled than before. His head spun, eyes fixed on the body, the rhythm of his heart in his chest a rapid staccato against his rib cage.

“Kokichi!” He heard his own voice call out his brother’s name, not conscious of saying it himself. The scene looked unreal; the room spun around him. Blood. Kokichi. Kokichi’s blood. On the floor. He gaped, mouth working open and closed without another sound escaping it. Dead, his brother was—.

The bloody face rose from the floor. Kokichi’s trademark grin beamed up at them, like blood didn’t drip down the sides of his face, like a small pool of crimson hadn’t gathered where his head had been resting, and Kurochi didn’t know whether he wanted to cry or shake his brother silly for scaring him like that.

Worse still, Kokichi sprang up from the floor, graceful as ever. His laughter rang out as if he’d told some hilarious joke, but none of them mirrored his actions. Kurochi couldn’t move, feet rooted to the ground. Part of him thought that it had to be a hallucination, his shock forcing his imagination to deny the truth and conjure the image of his newly deceased brother up and on his feet. His eyes fell to the floor, to the blood staining the wood. He felt sick.

“Did I surprise you? Were you going to scream and cry in terror?” Kokichi laughed, carrying on like nothing happened.

Yes you did, you bloody jerk, Kurochi wanted to say, but the unintentional pun stirred a queasy feeling in his stomach. He couldn’t find his voice past the lump in his throat. All he managed was a hard swallow and wide-eyed stare while he waited for the tilted room to right itself. Was the room even askew? Everything in the damn world was screwed up, culminated in his own brother’s death during this hellish game they’d been thrust into. In that moment, nothing felt real to him. Kurochi could vanish from the face of the earth, and it’d still go on indifferent to his plight.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

Kurochi jumped at Shuichi’s voice, head whipping in the direction of the two others in the room. In his surprise, he’d forgotten that Shuichi and Maki had accompanied him out into the hall. He shook his head, trying to clear it of the static building up inside and finding it impossible to do. Only one thought managed to surface in the hopeless mess of thoughts and anxiety in his mind; if Shuichi saw Kokichi move and grin then Kurochi wasn’t seeing ghosts. Kokichi really was alright.

His gaze drifted back to the blood spattered against the floorboard. Not alright, actually. That didn’t seem any level of ‘alright’ to him, but Kokichi was alive for certain, and perhaps that was blessing enough in the middle of a killing game.

When Kokichi didn’t immediately respond, Kurochi’s eyes snapped back to his brother’s face. He looked faint, swaying side to side. A tight ball formed in his chest as he rushed to Kokichi’s side with quick shaky steps, placing a steadying hand on his brother’s shoulder. He could feel Kokichi trembling under his touch with a motion so slight that he wouldn’t have noticed if not for the physical contact.

“Kokichi?”

His brother started. He dipped his shoulder, stepping to the side to subtly pull away from Kurochi’s touch. The grin returned to his face with greater force than before, as if to hold his dazed expression at bay. “Oh, sorry… I’m just a little light-headed from the blood loss. Yeah this is real blood…”

Silence punctuated his admission. Kurochi felt his heart twist in his chest, letting his hand fall to his side, but he didn’t say anything. Shuichi spoke up first, hesitance coloring his tone. “…Okay, so what are you doing?”

An innocent question, and yet a hot flame of anger ran through him. Just like that, Kokichi’s injury no longer mattered, even while the blood remained shiny and wet on his face. Kurochi whirled on Shuoichi, face twisted. For the first time since they woke up in that godforsaken place did he raise his voice at the other, shoving his words at him with a sharp bite to them. “Oh you know, he’s only bleeding from a head wound, what else!”

That seemed to shame him. Shuichi shifted in obvious discomfort, not daring to meet Kurochi’s glare, gaze fixed on Kokichi instead. Good.

“It’s fine, Kurochi!” Kokichi waved him off with a giggle. “I just got curious about something, so I decided to search the empty room next door. Th-then suddenly…”

Once again the grin dropped from his face, his mouth a stiff line as a queer look shadowed it. Kurochi stepped closer on instinct, hand once again on Kokichi’s shoulder with a firm grip on it. Not giving his brother a chance to back out, he reached out with his free hand to push his hair back to check on the wound. Right there on his forehead, no longer bleeding but still fresh. It took a beat longer than last for Kokichi to try and move away again, a hand at his wrist peeling Kurochi’s from his forehead. His hand came away red and sticky.

It took a moment for Kokichi to find his train of thought again to continue. “I-I stepped through the floorboard.”

“You stepped through the floorboard?” This time Shuichi had the witherall to sound concerned, although Kurochi didn’t know whether from worry for Kokichi or for the problematic floorboards themselves. As angry as the thought made him, he at least understood that much. The floorboards fit so well together that stepping through any of them shouldn’t be possible. It made for a dangerous place to walk.

“Geez, that got me good.” If Kokichi couldn’t find it in him to pretend, the pain must be terrible. With the shudders that ran through him, Kurochi feared that Kokichi really would collapse under just the weight of his hand. He clenched his hands into fists, resisting the urge to grab his shoulder again, lest he’d be rebuffed for a third time. “Cuz of this, I-I tripped and fell pretty hard.”

When Kokichi drifted back into a dazed silence, Maki’s cold tone echoed in the quiet hall. “If you’re going to lose consciousness, do it after you tell us everything.”

Kurochi never felt the urge to strike someone as much as he did in that moment. He wanted to punch that condescending expression right off that girl’s face, especially when Kokichi immediately forced a smile back onto his face and apologized for his own faintness. A head injury, he has a concussion, Kurochi wanted to snap at her. Even if she hates his brother’s guts, she could at least show some basic human empathy for a guy that looked like he was about to pass out.

He forced back the desire. Punching the Ultimate Assassin could only end poorly for a tiny, thin-armed boy who literally couldn’t throw a punch to save his life. He swallowed back the sensation of his own uselessness rising in his throat like bile, remembering how easily Maki had wrapped her hand around his brother’s throat. In the end he couldn’t do anything, just like he couldn’t now.

All unaware of how dearly Kurochi wanted to hit Maki, Kokichi told them what had happened, that a crosspiece under the floorboard was missing and caused his foot to fall through when he put his weight on it. Before he could tell them anything more than that, however, the school bell rang out, signaling the end of the investigation.

Maki looked more disappointed than she had any right to at that. “I guess… time is up.”

“Aw maaaan, it’s cuz of you guys, I didn’t have enough time to check on something…”

Kurochi sent his brother an incredulous look. When they’d come out into the hall, they’d found Kokichi face down on the ground. Although he’d played it off like a trick, Kurochi couldn’t help but think that he hadn’t intentionally laid down there waiting for someone to pass him by and think that a third person had died. Especially if he’d wanted to check on something. Kurochi didn’t think that he could’ve gotten to it regardless of their interference.

“What were you trying to check?” Shuichi asked at the same time as Kurochi said, “Maybe you should’ve been getting your head checked.”

“Aww Kurochi, that’s mean! I actually wanted to re-research the seance again, so I brought this document with me.” Kokichi held up The Caged Child, waving it before he flipped open to the page with the seance instructions on it. The three of them shuffled closer to look down at the book with him. “But unfortunately, I couldn’t find anything new that could be used as a clue. Kiyo perfectly reenacted the seance as what was written in the document. He drew his magic circle the same exact way as in this picture.”

Kokichi tilted his head, either thinking about something or fighting back the effects of his head wound. Kurochi wished that he’d been present during the seance, just so he knew firsthand what had happened during it. For the most part however, he was glad that he hadn’t been. Not that he thought that ghosts were real, but maybe it was better not to test out his theories with the supernatural like that.

And Kurochi wasn’t keen on being there when Tenko died.

A beat passed, and Kokichi continued, “Not only that, he used the same exact tools too. Nothing suspicious about this whole thing. Well, I wanted to check the finer details but…” Kokichi grimaced. “I-I’ll tell you about it later… a-at the… class trial so… see ya there…”

With unsteady balance, Kokichi turned and began to make his way down the hall. His footing seemed off, the effects of the blood loss obvious in each shaky step. Kurochi lurched forward, making it to his brother’s side before he could get too far on his own. No way was he going to let him collapse on the way without anyone around to help him back up or to give two shits about him in the slightest. Neither Shuichi nor Maki seemed inclined to care in any case, so Kurochi would have to do that all himself.

Yet they only made it a few steps more before Shuichi cleared his throat, calling out, “Ah… Kokichi?”

Kurochi glanced back over his shoulder while Kokichi slowly turned about to face him. Shuichi wore a sheepish expression, one which Kokichi returned with another forced grin. He wanted to be away before his entire facade broke, Kurochi knew, and Shuichi was making that difficult here. “Yes, Shuichi?”

“Are you… going to be ok?”

A brief silence followed the question. Kurochi looked to his brother to see that a contemplative expression had overtaken his face, mouth pressed into an oddly serious line. Or perhaps that was because of the concussion as well. But after the moment passed, a mischievous smile lit up his eyes. Kokichi shrugged and tucked his hands behind his head. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll die before I even get to the class trial. Nee-heehee, then you’re going to have to figure out who killed Angie without my adorable face there. I hope you cry for me, Shuichi—except no, that’s a lie. An evil overlord like me doesn’t need tears from those on the opposite side of the law, but thank you for your concern Mr. Detective. I’ll see ya soon!”

Kokichi’s grin turned sly just before he spun back around. The movement had him teetering on his feet, losing some of the effect of his little speech. Kurochi reached out to steady him, and Kokichi managed not to topple over. Once he righted himself, he continued down the hall with greater purpose, steps heavy and echoing in the empty hall. “Either in the class trial, or together in Hell!”

As the brothers made their retreat, Kurochi heard Maki speaking to Shuichi, telling him to just ignore Kokichi. She wouldn’t care whether he died or not, even if he was completely innocent. At least Shuichi had proved him wrong just now, even if he had to be properly scolded before he voiced his concern. There was hope for him yet.

Kurochi steered his brother into the bathroom on their way out. Time to get him cleaned up and to check on his injuring before Kokichi went and hurt himself even more.

[rax-writes]

Family Man

Fandom:  MCU Pairing:  Baron Helmut Zemo x OC  [basically a reader insert, because the OC’s physical description isn’t addressed or anything, she just has a name] Warnings:  None Notes:  A Sokovian woman named Irina Molnár was born with the ability to teleport, and in time, she encounters the only man to gain her trust enough to show him. It just so happens that the man in question is the criminal mastermind Helmut Zemo. // So, as I said, it’s an OC but still basically a reader insert; don’t let the OC part deter you if you prefer x reader fics. It just worked better for me on the writing end to use a name, and I have an aversion to using “Y/N,” so I just threw in a pretty name. // TL;DR: Zemo as a dad just kills me & I wanted him to get a second chance at a family.

“I will assist you to the utmost of my ability, on one condition.”

“You’re in no position to be making demands, Zemo.”

“This is both for my own benefit, and yours, I assure you.”

If someone had asked Irina ten years ago where she thought she’d be at this point in life, her answer would have been incredibly far from accurate, for nothing could have predicted the path her life took.

Not that her life had been normal to begin with, being that she was born with the ability to teleport. Sokovia was not exactly a progressive country in the late 1980’s, so her parents had endlessly instructed her to conceal her ability, warning her of the countless dangers of her power being known to others. Her parents were so protective of her that when she teleported as a reflex at age thirteen, after walking along the sidewalk of main street in Novi Grad and a driver fell asleep at the wheel and headed straight for her, they packed up and moved to Russia in the middle of the night. Yet again, the same thing happened at age eighteen, when she was caught up in a hostage situation in a bank and the perpetrator caught her calling the police. Just as he aimed his gun at her and pulled the trigger, she disappeared. Irina and her parents fled to Germany in the dead of night less than twenty-four hours later, and she knew then that she needed to suppress her powers no matter what, being that her father was elderly, and her mother was too ill for them to ever travel again.

So, Irina settled into a normal life in Munich. She worked various odd jobs over the years to support her parents, made and lost a few friends, dated here and there. Her father passed when she was twenty-two, and two years later, her mother joined him. When living in the house where both her parents passed in their sleep became too unbearable, she packed up and moved to Berlin, getting a job at a high-security prison there. Less than a year after she began working there, a newcomer arrived: an inmate by the name of Helmut Zemo.

Being that he knew so much about HYDRA, from his extensive research on them, the American organization SHIELD wished to know more about them. A few psychiatrists and some professional interrogators tried for the first couple months, but they got nothing – quite literally, as he refused to utter a single word to any of them. Irina’s boss knew that she was Sokovian just like Zemo, so she was asked to extract any and all valuable information she could from the new prisoner.

Zemo was an intimidating man; calm, cool, and collected at all times, with eyes like a hawk that bore into Irina’s very soul each time he looked at her. She spent two months talking with him every other day, trying anything and everything she could to get him to talk, but he remained silent. At first, she tried asking him questions outright, but he wouldn’t ever say a word – just stare at her with those cold, calculating eyes. So, Irina changed her approach; they would chat idly in Sokovian to build rapport via their shared mother tongue, or she would ramble about her day, what book she was currently reading, her favorite movies, dates she went on. Those topics got him talking, chatting with her about the miscellaneous subjects she brought up, and both she and her supervisors took it as a good sign. She found that they shared similarities in terms of the loss of their families, and how the destruction of Sokovia hurt them both. Despite how frequently they spoke, he still never revealed anything of importance. After two months, her boss had a few interrogation experts give her some training, so she tried their tactics for another month, but she still got nowhere with him.

Three months after Irina began trying to get intel from Zemo, she sat down in the chair outside his cell, and huffed out a sigh.

“I’m afraid this will be my last visit, Zemo.”

“Why?” His voice held surprise, and a tinge of sadness.

“As you know, they assigned me to visit you for the sake of getting information from you. I’ve been consistently empty-handed over the past four months, so they’re giving up, assigning me back to regular patrol duty.”

“Will I still see you?”

“No. They’re moving me to the women’s side of the prison next week.”

Zemo simply stared at the ground in silence, hands clasped in his lap. Irina allowed the silence to linger for several minutes, then pulled something from her bag, unlocked the small opening on the side of his cell where guards gave him meals, slid the item through, and locked it shut again. He eyed it for a moment before standing and retrieving it, sitting back down on the bed as he looked at it.

“It’s that book I told you about last month, the one you said sounded interesting. Consider it a parting gift.”

He still said nothing, gaze locked on the book cover. Irina cleared her throat and stood, putting her bag on her shoulder as she looked to Zemo one last time.

“It has been nice getting to know you, Zemo. Take care of yourself.”

As Irina pulled open the door to leave, Zemo’s voice called out, “Wait!” She turned to face him and found that he was standing, clenching and unclenching his jaw as if he were thinking, before stating, “Tell your superiors that I will give them one piece of information on HYDRA every two months if you will have lunch with me twice each week.”

Irina’s brows raised in surprise, but she nodded in understanding. “I’ll pass the message along, Zemo.”

“Please… call me Helmut.”

The higher-ups were more than happy to agree to his terms, as long as Irina was okay with them as well, since it involved her. But she wasn't stupid. She told them that it felt like quite an undertaking to agree to such a thing, she had been considering looking for another job in the near future, etcetera. Naturally, they offered to double her pay to persuade her to commit to the arrangement, and it was then that she agreed. In truth, it was no skin off Irina’s nose to do it in the first place. As deranged as it was, Zemo had become her friend, her only friend, and she quite enjoyed talking with him. And even more deranged – bordering psychotic, really – she had developed a bit of a crush on him, finding him to be dangerously handsome and intelligent, so she certainly had no quarrels with agreeing to spend time with him.

Time seemed to fly when Irina began her twice weekly visits to Zemo. She found herself eagerly awaiting their lunches, and she always stayed longer than necessary. She would have rather eaten glass than admit it, but she frequently put a bit more effort into her hair and makeup on the days she would be seeing him.

God, I’m fucking pathetic, Irina thought to herself at least once a week, and yet it never stopped her.

It was another few months later when he said something that made her stomach drop to the pits of hell, and a cold sweat to break out on her skin.

“I know who you are, you know. I have since you first introduced yourself. Irina Molnár, the disappearing girl – at least, that’s what the headlines called you. I remember reading about it when I was a teenager, but the story was forgotten within a week.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Irina replied, but Zemo could hear the quiver in her voice.

“My apologies, I did not mean to make you uncomfortable. I have no intention of mentioning it to anyone besides you. I have simply been wondering… were the rumors true? Can you really just disappear into thin air?”

When Irina hesitated, he added, “Irina, no one would believe me if I told them, and even if they did, they would have no way to prove it. Besides, we have been acquainted for nearly a year now. You are my only solace in this living hell. I would have gone mad had you not came into my life. I would never do anything to risk you harm.”

She exhaled slowly, and looked at the ground when she said, “It’s not ‘disappearing.’ It’s teleporting.”

Zemo leaned forward in his seat, visibly invested in her confession.

“I’ve been able to do it since I was four. Scared my parents half to death when I suddenly appeared before their eyes, having been across the house mere seconds before. I learned to control it pretty quickly, but that day in Sokovia… I was only ten years old, and a car was coming right at me, full speed, so I panicked. I teleported home right before it crushed me, and it would have been a non-issue if my classmate hadn’t been a few feet away and saw the whole thing. He ran his mouth to the press about my identity, so we had to leave.”

“That was why you moved to Russia, not because your father got a job there,” Zemo realized, remembering when you initially told him about your move and falsified the reasoning.

“Yes. It happened again there, when someone shot at me. No one who was around at the time knew my name, so it never made it to the press, but my parents were overly cautious, so we fled to Germany. I’ve not done it since, besides in the comfort of my own home.”

“Show me.”

“You say stupid things for such a brilliant man, Helmut,” Irina said, nodding toward the camera in the corner of the room.

“After you get home tonight, teleport into my cell.”

“Did you miss what I said about the camera, or…?”

“The camera does not have a view of my bed. It only reaches the middle of my cell, not the very back of it where the bed is,” Zemo pointed out, and Irina realized that he was right. She had been in the camera room several times; the camera there did indeed only show the room and half of his cell, never the bed.

“I’ll think about it.”

Zemo smiled brightly, looking excited, like a little kid about to see a magic trick. That alone was enough to motivate Irina to do it, just for the opportunity to see that smile again. So, when she got home that night, she changed into a flowy, deep green sundress, touched up her makeup and hair, strapped on a nice pair of sandals, and then stood in her living room, hyping herself up to take such a risk.

There was a chance that she would get caught. Teleporting in front of anyone was always a risk, no matter what, her parents had always told her. But then that damned, dashing smile crossed Irina's mind, and before she had time to second-guess herself, she was standing at the foot of Zemo’s bed.

The book he’d been reading flew out of his hands as he practically jumped out of his skin, falling to the ground with a loud whack, and he pressed a palm to his chest as he tried to calm his erratic breathing.

“We really should have scheduled a specific time for your arrival,” he muttered, and Irina laughed softly. Thankfully, the cameras had no sound, but if a guard were passing by outside, they may have heard her. When he caught his breath a moment later, Zemo sat up in the bed, letting his legs hang off the edge as he patted the spot beside him. Irina took a seat, crossing her legs and leaning back on her hands.

“So, you were telling the truth. You can actually teleport,” Zemo observed, eyeing her with amusement and interest before he bombarded her with questions. “Can you teleport anywhere in the world? Are there parameters for your distance or location? How long does it take you to travel from one place to another? What does it feel like?”

“I can teleport anywhere I’ve been to or seen photographs of. I cannot do it blindly. The distance nor location does not matter, as long as I have seen my destination before. And it feels like… a slight tingling sensation, all over my body, but it only lasts until I arrive, which takes about a half second.”

“Fascinating,” Zemo whispered. He licked his lips before asking, “Are you capable of teleporting another individual along with you?”

Irina frowned at him. “I’m not breaking you out of prison, Helmut.”

“I didn’t ask that.”

“No, but you were alluding to it,” she countered, and he shrugged. “I can teleport another individual, but only over small distances. Each time I’ve tried, the most distance I’ve gotten with another person has been about ten yards.”

“Perhaps with practice, you could go further.”

“I practiced for years, and ten yards seems to be the true limit. Besides, the only others who have ever known about my ability were my parents, and since they’re gone, I have no test subjects.”

Zemo nodded solemnly, then asked, “What about teleporting repeatedly, in ten yard increments?”

“Tried that. Can only do it about three times before I’m too drained to do it again. Teleporting back-to-back with another person takes a lot of energy,” Irina answered, then added, “And again, even if I could, I am not breaking you out.”

“I am merely interested in your mutation, that is all,” Zemo retorted. Irina shot him a look that said ‘Really?’ so he relented with, “Perhaps also because I wanted to know if you could break me out, but that’s neither here nor there.”

"That's what I thought."

It was another month before either party made a move. They were sitting on Zemo’s bed, side by side, as Irina told him about her day at work, and the man who'd tried hitting on her in the grocery store earlier that evening.

"He thought he was very Rico Suave, but his execution was a nightmare."

"How so?"

"Well, for starters, he followed me around for nearly ten minutes while he worked up the courage to say something. He waited until I walked past him and greeted me with 'Hey, sexy lady.'"

"Oh no," Zemo said, grinning as he looked genuinely amused at this man's poor tactics, although his amusement was contingent upon whether or not Irina was actually interested in him. The way she poked fun at the man indicated a lack of interest, therefore, he was enjoying her tale.

"Oh yes. He then asked if it hurt when I fell from heaven, which is the most overused line in the book, yet he said it with such confidence. And then – get this – he leaned onto what he thought was a shelf, but it was actually a stacked display of cans, which toppled over and sent a hundred soup cans flying down the aisle."

Zemo chuckled, prompting Irina to continue.

"He played it off by saying that my beauty is just so distracting that he didn't even realize what he was doing, and then asked for my phone number."

"Did you give it to him?"

"Absolutely not," Irina said, laughing softly and shaking her head. Zemo was momentarily entranced by the way her beautiful hair fell around her face, and the sound of her laugh.

"Why not?"

"Not my type."

"What is your ‘type’?"

Irina leaned back on the wall behind her, looking up at the ceiling as she thought carefully. "Confidence, but not cockiness. Intelligence. Wit. Sarcastic senses of humor. Men with a sense of passion to them; some kind of fire and gusto about something, whether it be their work, art, music." She looked over at Zemo then, and allowed her gaze to travel slowly up and down his form. "Currently, my type seems to be men I can't have."

Zemo eyed her carefully, allowing himself to absorb her words fully for several moments. She was describing him – he just knew it. Or, he was too blinded by hopefulness and desire to realize that she wasn’t, but he figured there was only one way to find out. So, he leaned forward, closing the gap between them, and pressed his lips to hers.

Irina hesitated for half a second, surprised by his actions, but she recovered quickly and kissed him back. It was gentle, sweet, and explorative, both parties simply enjoying it while it lasts. Neither had any idea how long it lasted, as time stood still. Zemo was the first to pull away, eyes scanning Irina’s face as he looked at her with sheer adoration, as well as a touch of nervousness.

"I understand if you wish for me to never do that again, and I understand if you'd prefer to never see me again. But please know that I did not do that out of blind lust, or anything other fleeting emotion. I did it because my heart has yearned for you every day since first meeting you, and finally having you here next to me, where I can touch you… it was genuinely unbearable to hold myself back from kissing you. I have not felt anything like this since losing my wife, and I did not think my heart was capable of ever feeling it again. But you proved me wrong. I know I am risking an end to the only true human contact I have while trapped inside this cell, which truly frightens me, but the unyielding desire to tell you that I love you overpowers that fear."

Irina stared at him in shock for a few moments, before leaning her head back against the wall and closing her eyes. She exhaled slowly as she collected her thoughts before speaking. "Helmut… I love you, too, but I don't know how this would even work. You're never getting out of here. How can we have any kind of relationship when you're locked in a cell for the rest of your days?"

"We will make it work, my darling," Zemo said, sitting up straighter and turning to face her. "I will ensure that we mimic a true relationship as much as possible. I cannot wine and dine you as I would like to do, but I can easily bribe the guards to have lavish meals brought here for us to share on evenings such as these. I cannot take you out for birthdays or anniversaries, but I will ensure that you are showered with gifts on those days. My angel, I cannot give you a normal life, but I can promise to endlessly strive to make you happy."

Irina stared deeply into his eyes for what felt like an eternity, and she saw nothing but genuity, longing, and adoration there. She could feel the sincerity in his words, feel how desperately he wished for her to agree to his proposal. She was no fool; she knew that their relationship would be a struggle, and she knew that it would never be any resemblance of normal. But she also knew that he made her heart soar in a way no other man ever had, and that she would die feeling like she missed out on something incredible if she walked away from Zemo now.

“Okay,” Irina whispered, mostly to herself, before repeating it in a stronger, more self-assured voice. “Okay.”

For a man who always knew what to say, Zemo was at a loss for words, overcome with joy. He simply cupped her cheek and kissed her, far more passionately than before, allowing his triumphant and ecstatic feeling to flow through the kiss. Irina gripped the front of his sweatshirt in her fists, melting into him, before wrapping her arms around his neck as his free hand moved to rest on the curve of her waist.

Ages had passed by the time they broke apart, foreheads resting against each other as they fought to catch their breaths. Irina was the first to break the comfortable silence they created, laughing quietly in disbelief at the events that had just transpired. Zemo followed suit, a deep, velvety chuckle bubbling up from his chest. He pressed another kiss to her lips before leaning back and looking at her. They gazed at each other in sheer contented bliss for a few moments more, before Irina became the first to speak.

“I love you, Helmut.”

“And I love you, darling.”

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

The sound of the front door opening caused Irina to immediately look up from the book she'd been reading. She frowned, then stood and headed for the door as quickly as possible, calling out, "Nikolai! You know better than to open that door, young man!" When she reached the entryway, she stopped dead in her tracks.

There stood Helmut, wearing the softest, sweetest smile she'd ever seen as he opened his arms to her. She hesitated a moment, unsure whether or not it was real, before he murmured, "Hello, my love." His voice – that alluring raspy undertone, and the gentleness it took on as he spoke to her – broke Irina from her trance, and she ran to him and into his arms, careful of her rounded belly.

Zemo stroked her hair and held her, and her arms around his neck gripped him like a vice, to the point that it hurt a little, but he'd never tell her that. A small sob fell from Irina's lips before she even realized she'd started crying, and he whispered sweet nothings in her ear in Sokovian to soothe her, about how much he loved her and how happy he was to see her. When her crying quieted down a bit, he pulled away to kiss her, a kiss full of love and longing. When he broke the kiss a few moments later, she stroked his cheek lovingly, and he wiped the stray tears from her eyes.

"How are you here? What happened?" Irina asked, and only then did she notice the two men standing awkwardly by the doorway, their faces a mixture of suspicion and surprise. "Who are they?"

"They are the men who helped me escape. James was previously known as the Winter Soldier, and Sam is currently known as the Falcon, an Avenger."

Irina raised an eyebrow at him. "But… you… the Avengers… the Winter Soldier…."

"I know, I know. I am just as surprised as you are, but they need me for something, something very important."

"The Flag Smashers? I saw them on the news. They have Super Soldiers somehow."

"Yes, darling, exactly right. We'll find them, defeat them, and I'll be back before you know it."

Irina understood the implication of his words. He'd be back, but whether that would be in her home or in his cell was yet to be determined. But she knew him. She knew that he would not take his newfound freedom as a one-time opportunity. A storm of thoughts about what that would mean for them flashed through her mind, but Zemo’s hands on her stomach snapped her out of it.

"How is our daughter?" he asked, gently rubbing Irina’s baby bump, a bright smile blooming when the child inside kicked at his hands, as she always did. She had only been in existence for seven months, and she wasn't even born yet, but she already favored him over her mother.

"She's good, she's been moving around a lot today, as if she knew her Daddy was coming," Irina replied, earning a grin from Zemo. "The doctors told me this morning that her heartbeat is strong and she appears to be the picture of health."

"Good, good. And what about –"

"DADDY!" a tiny voice bellowed from down the hall, and they turned to see a small boy running full speed toward Zemo. Irina stepped back to allow him a clear passageway, smiling as Helmut crouched down to meet him, enveloping the boy in an embrace as he collided with his father's chest.

"Nikolai, I've missed you," Zemo stated, rubbing the boy's back as he stood, still holding his son. Irina caught the way her husband's voice wavered when he said that, and she laid a comforting hand on his back.

"I've missed you too, Daddy. Are you living with me and Mommy now?" Nikolai asked, leaning back in his father's arms to gaze at him with excitement plain on his face. Zemo gave him a smile, but Irina could see the sadness in it, knowing the future was uncertain.

"Not quite, buddy. Just here for a visit," Zemo replied, and Irina rubbed his back comfortingly before pressing a kiss to their son's temple.

Their family time was interrupted by Sam clearing his throat loudly, and when Zemo turned to face him, his smile faded.

"Sorry to interrupt, but Zemo, you've got some explaining to do, and not much time to do it. Don't forget we're on borrowed time here."

"Right," Zemo confirmed, then exhaled slowly. "James, Sam, this is my wife Irina and our son Nikolai…. He is five, and Irina is seven months along."

Confusion washed over both men's faces, and they exchanged a glance before the other, James, was the first to speak.

"But… you've been in prison for eight years. Have you been escaping every few years and no one's noticed?"

"I have not left my cell in eight years, consecutively. But my wife is capable of getting into my cell as often as we wish."

"So, what? You've just been having conjugal visits all the damn time? And the prison staff green-lit that?" Sam asked.

"No, not exactly," Zemo answered, then glanced at Irina. They shared a look before she explained further.

"I can teleport. I met Helmut when I was tasked with extrapolating information about HYDRA from him, and he refused to share anything unless the prison staff agreed to let him meet with me twice a week, just to chat, in which case he'd give them tidbits of information bi-monthly. They agreed, and before long, I revealed my ability to him. I'd visit him in his cell occasionally, because the cameras only show half of it. Over time, well… we fell in love. Nikolai came a few years later, and now…" Irina trailed off, then rubbed a hand over her pregnant belly.

"Why didn't you ever bust him out?" James asked.

"I can only teleport small distances with another person, and I can only do it twice at the most, so we'd have never made it off the grounds."

James and Sam were silent for a moment, absorbing the information they'd been given. Sam was the first to break the silence.

"Zemo, you said this little pitstop would benefit me and Bucky. But it's not like she can go with us," he said, sounding a bit irritated as he gestured towards Irina’s stomach. "So what the hell was the point?"

"It does benefit you. You now possess the knowledge that a teleporter exists. Congratulations," Zemo said dryly, then looked at his wife and son for a moment, before returning his attention to the men. "Sam, the point was that I lost my family when Sokovia was destroyed, and the family I have now has only ever seen me inside a prison cell. I wanted my son to have at least one memory of his father in his home with him."

James – no, Bucky, apparently – and Sam exchanged a look, before Bucky sighed and looked to Zemo.

"You have one hour. Sam and I will be guarding the exits, so don't try to escape. If you do…." He trailed off after glancing at Nikolai. "Let's just say it won't be pretty."

True to their word, Sam and Bucky remained stationed outside the home, one out front and one out back. Zemo milked that hour as much as possible, spending most of it in his son’s room with him and Irina, listening intently to Nikolai tell him all about what’s been going on at school, his favorite shows, the trip he took to the zoo the day before with Irina, etc.. He even told Zemo about each and every one of his toys, simply enjoying talking to his dad, and although Zemo was the one to send almost every one to him, therefore he already knew about them, he didn’t mention that. He simply listened intently as his son spoke, enjoying the quality time with him, exchanging smiles and occasional kisses with Irina. She showed him the nursery she’d been working on for their daughter, and he finished putting together the crib she’d started, Nikolai happily handing him parts and screws as needed. Zemo also moved the dresser and changing table to where she’d wanted them but couldn’t move them herself, then they settled into the living room shortly before the hour was up.

Sam and Bucky reentered the house to find the family sitting around the coffee table, playing a game of Jenga. They stood silently in the doorway to the living room, watching as Nikolai carefully drew a block from the tower before placing it back on the top with a triumphant look on his little face. Zemo commended his concentration, then drew a block himself, although he intentionally wiggled it a little so that the tower came toppling down.

“I won! Daddy, I won!”

“Yes, you did, my son. Excellent job,” Zemo said warmly, then glanced at Sam and Bucky before scooping the boy up into a tight hug. “Daddy has to go now, but I will see you again soon.”

“Do you have to go?”

“I’m afraid so. But I need you to promise me something before I leave. Take care of your mom for me, will you?”

“I will, I promise.”

“Good boy,” Zemo said with a smile, then kissed Nikolai’s forehead and set him down. Zemo stood and helped Irina stand up, hugging her tightly as he buried his face into her neck. Quietly, so that no one but her could hear, he said, “I will not be going back to prison unless there is no other way, but know that yours and our children’s safety is my utmost concern.”

“I know, Helmut,” Irina whispered back, and he pressed a long, lingering kiss to her lips. “I love you.”

“I love you, my angel,” Zemo murmured against her lips, then stooped down to hug his son again. “And I love you, Nikolai.”

“I love you, too, Daddy,” the boy responded, and the way his voice quivered as he choked back tears broke his parents’ hearts into a million pieces. Reluctantly, Zemo let him go and he wrapped his arms around his mother’s leg, resting his head against her as he sniffled and she rubbed his back.

“Be safe, sweetheart,” Irina commanded.

Zemo nodded to her before walking over to join Sam and Bucky. With one last heartbroken look at his family, he left, closing the door behind him as he let out a shaky breath. He didn’t meet the other men’s eyes as he walked over to the car, and after they all piled in, they drove in silence to the airport, off to their next stop in Madripoor.

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

@henrysmorgan​ @clints-lucky-arrow​ @therenlover​

[padfootagain]

10 things I wish someone had told me when I started to write fanfictions

 To start this little series of posts where I will attempt to gather the best advices I can give you concerning writing, I'm going to go through a list of 10 things that I wish I had known when I started to post my first fanfictions on the internet. The first few are more about being a fanfic writer on this hellsite, but then I drift towards more writing stuff.

This might also be interesting for people who don't write, if they're curious about the whole process, I hope some of them read this as well.

I do not pretend to be right. I will never dare to pretend to be right about anything. But from my personal experience, here are a few things that I feel like you should know if you are writing fanfics and want to share your work.

This post is long, sorry. Feel free to pick up the bits that you're the most interested in.

Also, if you want me to treat a particular subject in one of these posts (that should be shorter in the future), please, do tell me. I'll be happy to (try to) help :D

Word count : 4914

Alright, let's go!

1. Spread love, spread love, spread love and spread even more love

 If you are around here, it means that you love these silly characters beyond what is reasonable. It's okay, we are all in it together. Then, do not bother with people you find annoying or spread negativity through a fandom. Block them. Avoid them. There is enough negativity in life without it spreading to stain what makes you happy. Do not hesitate to block people. You will find your stay around here much more enjoyable then.

Be kind to people. No matter if they message you on or off anon, no matter what they are asking, be nice. Listen to them. Some are very shy and clumsy with words, some make tons of mistakes while writing in English, it doesn't matter. Be kind. Make them feel welcome on your blog. Show them that you are a safe place around here. You wouldn't want people to dismiss you after you try to be nice to them right? So don't do it to other people. There are many people around here who keep on telling me that they were hesitant in messaging me because they were nervous. Don't be nervous. Talk to each other. Talk to me, I want to talk to you. Be nice with each other. If we have created this kind of fanfiction blogs, it's because we love the characters we write for. We will always be up for a chat about them.

 2. Wisely use your tags, you shall.

 Because it is extremely annoying as a reader when you are looking for a Sirius Black x Reader fic and you end up with some Jily angst. Make sure to tag all your stories, but do it accurately. Do not tag something as wolfstar if it's a Remus x reader imagine. It's just so annoying when the results don't match what you are looking for. Personally, it doesn't make me want to read the imagine, on the contrary, it just annoys me, and I will not visit the blog where it was posted.

To tag your stories, try to think about these three things :

- Who is the main character in my story ? Are there other characters that are really important in the plot?

- Which fandom am I writing for ?

- What part of the fandom is this character involved in?

If several characters are involved, try to determine which ones are the most important and tag them first. You can tag a character using both the full name or just the first name, so think about including both versions.

So, for a Sirius Black x reader story some Jily, you will have the tags:

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #sirius black fanfiction #sirius #sirius x reader #sirius imagine #sirius fanfiction #hp # marauders era #marauders #marauders imagine #marauders fanfiction #jily #jily fanfiction #jily imagine #james potter #lily evans potter

See? Then your imagine will come up first if people are looking for Sirius. It might appear for Jily too, but the order of the tags indicate that they're not that important in the story. You can also tag if you are writing fluff, angst… it's up to you. If you don't really know which tags you should use, try to check the tags used by fanfiction writers that you like, it might help.

 3. Comments are rare, but it's not because it’s you

 As a writer, you have put all your energy and soul and emotions into this piece of writing you have just posted. Fasten your seatbelt. You will then experiment the rollercoaster of emotions that goes with it:

- First, the excitement of posting something new

- Then, the long wait for any form of feedback or validation

- Refreshing the page every five seconds to see if your story has a note

- "Oh! A little heart! Someone read it!!!!"

- The slow realization striking that you're not getting much notes

- Going to bed asking yourself a thousand questions and thinking that you are the worst writer on tumblr, as your post didn't get more than 5 notes for now

- Waking up in the morning to find ONE comment on your fic

- Blessing that person with your whole being and worshiping this wonderful human being for a long while as you keep on re-reading the five-words long little message that was written on your post

- Noticing a few reblogs and looking at them all one by one to check if a comment was left in the tags

- Disappointment washing over you every time you see no tags

- A bright grin when you see a 'good fic' in a tag

Yes, this is the usual fanfic writer rollercoaster. You are not the only one experiencing it. Every single writer here does experience the same.

Yes, it is, sadly, normal to receive very few comments on your stories, it doesn't mean that you are a bad writer.

Yes, OCs are not as popular as reader inserts on tumblr. You will get even less notes for these stories. Again, it is, sadly, normal, and it doesn't mean that your OC sucks.

Yes, you will probably get more notes on the first chapter of a series than the rest of your story, especially if you take a few weeks to update. It doesn't mean that your series is less appreciated or is a disappointment.

Some characters or ships are less popular than others in a fandom. You will get less notes for them. It's normal, and again, it doesn't mean that your story is bad.

No, you don't have a psychic link to your computer that tells you if people liked your story without them actually telling you. I know you don't. But there are few people around here who seem to get that. So be patient. Be kind. And don't take it personally, because it's the same problem for everyone here.

Getting just a few notes does not mean that you are a bad writer. We are all struggling to get comments. You are a good writer, even if your story has just a few notes. I didn't get more than 30 notes on my last chapter for my Dr Who fic. My Rose Tico fic struggled to get 10 notes. One of my Poe fic reached 650 notes. There is not always a logic. Do not let the number of notes describe you as a writer. You are a good writer. Getting just a few notes must not stop you from writing. It's not because you don't get many notes that you are not skilled at writing.

 4. Make life easy for your readers: make a masterlist and some taglists

 Make a taglist where you can store the url of people who want to follow your stories. Keep it organized. If you write for several characters/fandom, accept to make different taglists for each character/fandom, and if you are brave enough, for individual stories as well. These people want to follow what you write, so it takes a little time to you, but people that are tagged might read your story more easily and not miss an update.

You can also add links to the previous part of a series or a link to your masterlist in a text post. I don't do it, because I reckon that my masterlist is pretty easy to navigate through, plus, I'm lazy as fuck… but you can be better than me and do it.

Make a masterlist that can be open on mobile. Lots of people (me included) read fanfics in the bus, or during breaks at work, or when they travel… and they don’t have a computer then. So, if you want them to find your stories on mobile, you will have to make a masterlist that they can open on the app. We will take all the steps to create such masterlist one by one. Perhaps there is an easier way to do it, but no one ever told me how to make a masterlist, and that's the only way I found by myself, so I can't help you more than that I'm afraid. If you can't do it that way, ask me for help or ask another fanfic writer who has a link to her/his masterlist in the blog description and try the method he/she used.

To create your masterlist:

1. Create the text post that will become your masterlist. Nothing more than a very normal text post, and publish it on your blog. On this post, you will put your stories and the links leading to them.

2. Open this brand new post and copy the full name of the page in the toolbar at the top of your screen (the full https://ww.tumblr.com/... thing)

3. Go in the settings of your blog and choose the edit appearance menu (the same that you used to decorate your blog and make it pretty).

4. Choose the 'edit theme' menu (website theme section). You arrive in the edit theme page where you can change the theme for your blog, the colours…

5. In the first section called 'appearance options', you can enter the title of your blog, a short description of your blog and choose your avatar. This section also holds the information that are showed on the app. It is in this 'Description' section that we will put the link to your masterlist.

6. In the description, after you've added the text that you wanted, you will have to enter the whole bit of coding that I am writing here. It will allow you to put a link to your masterlist using the link you've copied to a word written in the description. So, you have to write : <b><a href="Insert the link to your masterlist here "> Enter the name of your link here</a></b>

You have to paste the link you have copied in the bit that I have written in italic. The part written in bold is where you type the words that will appear in your description for the link (I stayed traditional, and wrote Masterlist, for example).

7. Don't forget to save your changes, and in theory, if you go to the page of your own blog, the link has appeared in your description, and when you click on it, you have access to your Masterlist!

After that, it's up to you to keep your masterlist updated! If possible, try to make a masterlist as soon as you start writing (or as soon as you have read this post and realized that you desperately needed that damn masterlist), and try to update it everytime you post a new story, or else you might forget a post, or look through your own blog for a while to find the right post again.

Some people use a tag system instead of a masterlist. I find it less reliable. Everything is in your masterlist, I find it easier for readers to find stories and navigate through your writing. But then, it's up to you. I can't help you with the tag system though, as I don’t use it.

Also, do not hesitate to reblog your fics a couple of times after you've posted them. It's not just about promoting your own work, but you have followers from all around the world. When it's night for you, it's the middle of the day for some of them. So reblogging your story to make sure that every time zone has a chance to see it is actually for your followers, not for yourself.

 5. Requests are open, but not everything is okay

 An advantage of tumblr for both readers and writers is that requests are so easy to make. For readers, it's wonderful because someone else is going to write a story they are dreaming of but can't write themselves. For writers, it might stir your imagination and make you think of new stories that would have never crossed your mind otherwise.

Now, that being said, as a writer, you have the right to refuse a request. Do not feel guilty about it. This idea doesn't ring a bell? It sounds weird? You just don't like it? Then refuse it. Stay kind with the person who requested it, but refuse. You are the one who is going to spend hours and hours bringing this story to life, you need to like the idea that is proposed to you.

Make sure that all the requests that you have accepted are either in your askbox, or in a google doc, or in a note book… but anyway, all at the same place. It's easier to go through them all when you are looking for something to write then.

You do not have to write them in a specific order. Don't feel guilty for writing a request straight after receiving it when another one has been sitting in your askbox for several weeks. Your imagination is not something that works on demand. Write what inspires you the most, and if a request that you like doesn't inspire you enough to write it for now, then wait, until it inspires you enough to write it.

Most people open their requests and close them once they have received a few. Then they write them all, and re-open the requests later. It's a very good way to do it and to keep control on your requests.

Me? My requests are always open. Why? Because, if a new follower of mine wants to ask for me to write something, I want this person to have the opportunity to ask. Also, if someone just has a wonderful new idea, I want this person to be able to send a request too. It's one way to do it. Then, you will drown in an ocean of requests that you will never be able to get out of. But as long as you accept the fact and warn your followers that their request will take a long time to be written, I reckon it's pretty fair too.

Never feel obliged to open requests. If you don't feel like it, then don't. You are the one who will have to write the whole thing, don't do it if you don't want to.

Do not imagine that the person who sent you a request will leave you a nice comment to thank you. It is extremely rare. Especially for anons. Here again, don't take it personally, it's not about you, you didn't screw up their request, it's just that no one receives this kind of message.

I remember an anon who asked me to make a part 2 to a request that I had written for her/him. And so I asked in my answer to his/her message if he/she liked the first part. He/she said 'Well, of course I liked it! It was wonderful!'

But dear anon, if you don't tell me that you enjoyed the story that I wrote for you, I actually can't know that you liked it…

But dear writer, if you never hear of this anon who sent a request ever again, it's not about you, I'm pretty sure this anon loved your story. He/she just assumes that you know how brilliant you are. Here is the misunderstanding between readers and writers.

 Right, now, let's get to the writing stuff…

 6. Experiment, experiment, experiment and experiment again

 Especially if you are starting to write fanfics, you will need to find out the best process that fits your personality to write. There is no magical way to do things that will suddenly makes it easy for you to write, and writing keeps on evolving as you grow as a person and also in skills. Don't expect a nice little thing you will do to pass the time. If you really get involved in it, writing is tough. Writing is crying on your own as you write a sad scene. Writing is spending hours looking for tiny details and vocabulary to make sure that you are accurate. Writing is forgetting a thousand plot twists between the moment when you are under your shower and you sit down to write. Writing is waking up at three in the morning to write because you suddenly had the best idea ever.

You will suffer. But you will also find the most addicting feeling that exists in this world, if you manage to completely lose yourself in your story. Bye bye debts, responsibilities, family problems, work… if you manage to get to the orgasmic trance of writing, you will forget the whole world, and get lost in your story. And that is worth everything that makes the life of a fanfic writer shitty.

As I mentioned, to get to this fabulous state of mind, there is no perfect recipe. Because it's different for everyone. You need to try different things to find out which process fits you best. So here are a few things that you should try:

- Try to write different types of stories : adventure, angst, fluff, AU… you will find out that there is a kind of writing that you like the most. For me, it's mainly fluff, with some angst to get it tastier…

-Try both reader inserts and OCs. Both have advantages and drawbacks. You can write both. I do write both. Sometimes though, if you have a very clear idea of your character, it's better to make an OC. For a short one-shot, reader insert is much simpler, and will allow you to not spend two bloody hours looking for a name for your character…

-Try to write with 'I', 'you', 'he/she'… You will soon find one that fits you better. Personally, I hate that bloody 'I' for example.

- Try different tenses. Some people prefer to write using present, others past tenses. It's up to you, just try to be consistent once you've settled for one, or it can be quite confusing.

-Try to plan a story, and try not to plan a story. Some writers need to have the skeleton of the story already written down before really writing the whole thing. Try to make little notes on the characters you create then too. Personally, I can't do that. I hate planning fics. I just write the first things that come to my mind. Do not be ashamed of either process, they are both valid, and trust me, they will both get you to writing full fics. My longest fics are more than 500 to 800 pages long. 0 planning. It works for some people. A friend of mine is unable to start a fic if he doesn't know every single plot twist in it. It just depends on how your brain works. Try to apply both techniques, you'll quickly find out that one is better for you than the other, or perhaps you'll just plan a few things but not everything... it's up to you.

Finding your process of writing is personal. That being said, don't hesitate to ask for advices to writers that you like. You can ask for people you trust to read your fic before posting it as well, you can get good advices then.

 7. Make sure your comfy

 No matter for how long you plan on writing, make sure you are comfortable. In your bed, at your desk, outside… write where you are comfortably sitting/lying down. Take your favourite candies, keep a bottle of water and some coffee/tea near at hand. If it helps, turn on the music. Make playlists for writing with your favourite songs. You will have to experiment the effect of music on your writing too: with music, without music, with lyrics, without lyrics… here again, it's up to you.

Make sure you have the internet too. Because you will often need to check a random fact about the world you're writing about, or some vocabulary… or because after a little while you won't be focused anymore, and you'll probably end up reading fanfics on tumblr before getting back to writing, so be already prepared.

 8. Find your own pace

 I am here talking to fanfiction writers. We are not paid for our writing. We have no deadlines. Therefore, there is no rush. I think that the worst advice that I have ever seen for writers was a post that explained how to write a thousand words a day. Basically, it was explaining that you had to force yourself to, step by step, increase the number of words you would write before stopping and doing something else. To me, this is the WORST ADVICE EVER!!!

DO NOT FORCE YOURSELF TO WRITE!!!

You are spreading love about characters for free, the last thing you want is pressure coming from it! If you force yourself, you'll start not enjoying it, and that's the last thing you want, trust me.

Here again, you have to experiment. Perhaps you are the kind of person who writes a paragraph every day. Perhaps you only write once a week but then you vomit ten pages in one sitting. Perhaps you write once in a while. Perhaps you are like me and can't go to sleep without having written at least 1000 to 2000 words that night. It depends. Do not force yourself to write. You will find your own rhythm. You just need time to find it. Just write when you want to for as long as you want to.

Also, do not rush your brain to create a story, especially for complex stories like series. Some people are fast, between the moment they have the idea for the fic and when they actually write it. But some people need to think about this idea for a while. Personally, 90% of the time, an idea is going to be brewing in my brain for days, weeks, sometimes months or years before I write it down. It's okay, take your time.

An advice to writers with minds twirling with ideas constantly like me: if you have so many ideas, some will be better than others. Wait for a bit then. Some of these ideas will disappear by themselves after a few days or weeks. Write the ones that remained in your brain, no matter if you waited. They are the best ones you came up with. Write the ones that you still have in your head a month later.

Your pace will also determine how often you post your fics, obviously. Do not put any pressure on yourself to write faster because you haven't posted any story in several days. Take the time you need to finish your story. Take your time. You're in no rush. No matter if people are asking you to update soon, you're the one who's writing the damn thing, so go to your own pace.

Wisdom would make me tell you to try to focus on one story at a time. But wisdom is not a fanfic writer. If you have checked my blog, you know that I write many series simultaneously. It's just because my brain is unable to focus on only one story at a time. So I just start many. If you feel like you need to finish this story before starting a new one, then finish it first. But if you feel obsessed with this new idea, let it out and put it down on paper. It won't leave unless you write it anyway, so better get rid of it before it drives you nuts. Here again, updates for new chapters and beginning of new series must be done at your own pace.

Also, wisdom would make me tell you to finish a story before posting it. But wisdom has much more self-control than I do. You don't have to wait to have finished the whole series to post the first part, unless it works better for you. Once again, your own pace.

If you are facing a writer's block and you need some time away from writing, do not feel guilty about taking that time. Take a few days, a few weeks, a few months if necessary, until you can go back to your story. You can also try to write for new characters/fandoms, sometimes it helps, but sometimes you just need time. So do yourself a favour, and take it.

 9. Your story, your words

 How many posts did I see on this hellsite telling you to not use 'say', to not use this type of words, but rather that type of words…

Do yourself a favour. Write whatever you want.

If a word exists, it's because it describes something. An emotion, an action… and if you need to describe that precise thing, then use the damn word for it. And use 'say' as many times as you want.

There is no stupid reaction for your character. I do giggle in real life. I do blush a lot. I do cry easily. I do feel better around some people for no logical reason. Do not listen to the cynical bunch of fake intellectuals who are pretending that these actions don't exist. They do. You can describe them the way you like. And if you want your character to smirk, then make that boy smirk.

You have to apprehend writing like a freedom. There is no one controlling you when you write a fanfiction. There are no standards to respect, no limits to your imagination. You can use any word that you may like. You can write the stories that you want, the way you want to.

There's no need to aim for a vocabulary that you don't master. Especially if you don't write in your native language (like me). You can use a few fancy words, but sometimes it'll be clearer with a vocabulary that is considered like simpler. There's no reason to overdo it.

Try to include both descriptions and dialogues in your work. Dialogues are dynamic, they carry a lot of weight in your narration. They are also very important to carry emotions. But you also need descriptions to get the reader in a certain atmosphere, and to make the actions clearer. If a character picks up a knife, but you have never indicated that he was in a kitchen, it may be a bit confusing. But then, the balance between descriptions and dialogues depends on you, here again, no magic recipe. Just try to get both in your story, you'll find out that it'll be easier to carry out emotions and to make the plot advance then.

Ha, and one more thing, because I said that it was your story. There is nothing wrong in writing a very bold fic with an idea you've never seen anywhere before. But there is nothing wrong either in using a popular AU, a popular idea, a popular OC… there is nothing wrong with that. Because no one has ever written that AU the way you are going to write it. So write it. With your own plot twists, and your own words, and your own feelings. Do you know how many coffeeshop AUs I have read? I have lost count. Do I still want to read more? Yes, please. Because it's cute, and I want cute. How many readers were made a fellow pilot in the resistance and fall in love with Poe Dameron? Here again, I have lost count. Do I still want to read more about that? Yes, please, I do, bring me the angst and the fluff! And please, write it, because I've never read this story written by you, and I want to read it.

 And now, my last piece of advice for this very long post, but the most important piece of advice that I can give you:

 10. If you do not like tips, do not take tips.

 Tips are written by people who have one way to look at a problem. They look at the problem, and they find a solution (sometimes, I am not even sure that they have faced the problem themselves to be honest…). But it is the solution that would fit them, not fit you. Now, you may come across some advices that are very good for you and help you get better at writing. Then cherish these pieces of advice and use them. But if you realize that an advice is not working for you, then leave it behind and try something else. Writing is too personal to have golden rules that need to be followed to reach your goal. It's a slow process. You will never stop learning and improving. Here again, try to experiment the advices that seem interesting to you. Abandon the ones that don't fit your personality.

I have never followed a single advice that I have seen on this website. I write rarely less than 2000 words a day. Not respecting tips that you encounter does not mean that you are a bad writer, or that you'll never manage to finish a story. It just means that you don't write like the person who gathered these advices does. And there's nothing to feel guilty about. You are still a valid writer, you are still creating amazing stories, your process to do it all is just different.

Writing will bring you such a feeling of freedom, do not let yourself be trapped in stupid rules that someone else invented out of the blue.

 And if nothing that I've written helps you, then it's okay. It just means that we don't see the same thing in writing, and we don't write the same way. But you're still amazingly talented, and I think I'm not that bad either. Just enjoy writing. Enjoy sharing your stories. Enjoy reading the stories that are shared by other fantastic writers that we are lucky to have around here. Just enjoy it all, and be kind, to both others and yourself.

[daesungindistress]

I find that you rarely write in Daesung's POV; just curious to know why? As a reader though, I do relate to Seunghyun more easily (maybe because we're all so thirsty for Daesung lmao). But I wish we had more stories from Daesung's POV...

No one ever asks me these kinds of questions! But that’s partly on me for never inviting asks about myself or my work… I want to sometimes, because like anyone else, I enjoy talking about the things I make, and the why of those things. Just prefer not to go asking for that kind of attention… That’s not me.

Anyway, to answer your question, this is something I’ve noticed too and have given some thought… so you’re going to get a lengthy answer, sorry. I’ll go ahead and give you the TL;DR version: though I hate to admit this, you could say I write from the perspectives of the other BB members so often (and Daesung so rarely) because I’m treating them like proxies, characters through whom I can vicariously “experience” my bias: Daesung.

Putting the rest behind a cut.

It does seem a bit strange, doesn’t it? For someone who posts so often about Daesung and dedicates so much of this blog to trying to understand him, wanting to figure out what makes him tick, I sure write a lot of fic from everyone’s POV but his. Seunghyun, Seungri, and recently Youngbae… I think the only times I’ve told the story through Daesung’s eyes was in the Carnivores series, where the narrative alternates between his POV and Seunghyun’s. And, recently, that short ToDae ficlet I wrote on a whim: Blackout Blues.

It’s even more puzzling when you consider that not only is Daesung my heavy favorite, out of everyone in BB he’s the one I identify with the most (but not in every way… we have at least a few notable differences, ways in which I can’t possibly relate). As for Seunghyun, well, I don’t actually feel that Seunghyun and I have all that much in common. Or if we do, I don’t know it yet. That I write from his perspective so often sometimes has me scratching my head in confusion. Really!

Here’s what I’ve learned though: I’ve been reading fanfic for more than 15 years now (more than half my life o m g) and I recognized a pattern long ago. Of course I like reading fics from the POV of my favorite– favorite character, favorite band member, favorite actor, etc. But what I really love most– what draws me in fastest– is reading fic about my favorite as told through the eyes of my second favorite. Because, loathe as I am to admit it, I’m probably treating that second favorite (in this case Seunghyun, and once Seungri, and most recently Youngbae) as a substitute of sorts through whom I get to experience my favorite: Daesung.

That “second favorite” is usually selected based on the nature of his interactions with my favorite, or bias, and finding him is a process. When I first took notice of Big Bang Daesung captured my interest almost immediately. There’s never really any questioning the sudden attachment; when I pick a favorite it may as well be set in stone, remaining that way for the duration of my time in the fandom, which can last for years. Like imprinting, haha.

From there, though, I’ll spend some time “shopping around” for a second fave. Someone I can live vicariously through… even if that character/person and I are nothing alike. Typically, this forms my OTP. I just need to see something meaningful, an appealing dynamic. At the very least, the basic ingredients of a relationship that I might find worth exploring. Imagination allows me to run with it from there. ToDae has given me a LOT to work with.

For the record, and because I think it’s relevant to this topic, I don’t read or write self-inserts, fics that feature the reader, or stories that pair the guys with original characters (although OCs have made appearances in my fics, they weren’t important or heavily featured). So all these scenarios, reactions, drabbles, etc that are so popular in the kpop fandom? Not my thing.

Not to put down those who read or write them (because hey, you do you) but those kinds of fics make me uncomfortable, and I’ve always felt a strong need to steer clear of them. I don’t want to be a character in the story. Me, as myself. (I also take issue with the author telling me what I’m supposed to be doing, thinking, feeling… you know? haha)

So when it comes to Big Bang, my imaginings never involve… me. I don’t fantasize about being with the guys, not even in perfectly innocent ways; I fantasize about them being with each other. I’d rather empathize with them through the good and the bad than be right there in the thick of it, a character in my own right. I need a certain degree of separation. Have always liked being on the outside looking in, you could say. A silent observer. There’s probably some weird psychology behind it all, something about intimacy issues and keeping people at an emotional arm’s length etc etc, but understanding it isn’t overly important to me at this point in my life, so… oh well!

And that is why, at least as far as I’m aware… I so rarely write in Daesung’s POV. The curse of being my bias: so much fic revolving around him, but through the filters of his bandmates’ eyes.

[getreadytosmash]

🌱 = a plot I want to write with you
🌲 = if I ship our characters together
🌴 = a favorite canon character in my fandom
🌵 = a disliked canon character in my fandom
🌾 = my opinion on OCs

🌱 = I'd like to write something that involves a lot of bonding and family-Ness. Writing about fighting is fun but that's what my blog is about, writing something calmer would be more challenging and I'd like to give it a go sometime. Plus I'd like to have more goes at writing as the Leader.🌲= Well that's a lot of relationships. But all of the smashers would be very gentle and careful around Mattie at first. She-hulk would make sure to pamper her, taking Mattie to the best spa's. Red would wear and carry Mattie around inside a giant sweater so she wouldn't be cold in the winter, Hulk would help her control her feral side and would do anything and everything possible to make sure she got the best future, A-bomb would make a fort and constantly cuddle her while they argue about anime and Skaar would take her on 'dates' to steal snakes and other animals so they can take them back to the Base. Also, I love the idea of the smashers each having a Mattie doll that they carry around for good luck. Imagine Mattie being surrounded by agents of s.m.a.s.h dolls.🌴= Red hulk or the Leader. I just adore them!!! Red is funny and acts tough but is actually a big softie and the way Leader gets tossed around makes me feel so bad for him??? Plus he's such a dork and I feel like he'd be someone who has a Tumblr and writes really good fanfiction and art but never wants anyone knowing. 10/10 writes insert fics. When doctor doom insulted him he looked so sad and never in my life have I wanted to comfort someone so badly.🌵= Abomination. He's such a jerk but acts all high and mighty. I mean, I get why he hates Red but Red's in the same boat as him, the only diffrence is that Red chose a better path while Abomination kept on being a jerk who still needs redemption. Which is why I like my redemption AU of course. But everything pales in comparison to my hatred of Dr Doom. The man insulted my sweet baby gamma genius. He can burn.🌾= I actually really hate oc's. It's nothing personal but every oc I've ever come across on was just...so...badly...written. There are a handful that I like which include: Dot from Piiinkprotrusions, Rory from Thereluctantreptilian but my top one is well, you/Mattie. Good oc's are so hard to come by.