#tbh i might start crossposting to ao3
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crossed wires, UNOFFICIAL ch.3. the scene i was writing quickly spun into something else that doesn't fit into the rest of the somewhat already written and planned storyline. i wanted to post it anyways, since i do like how it came out. it's really cheesy. miscommunication, hurt and (immediate) comfort, fluff, suggestive undertones. m!spiderman!reader x civilian!scara. childhood friends to lovers. 2.3k words. warnings: ummm mild conflict caused by miscommunication. scara raises his voice, but quickly regulates his anger. he also cries, but is soothed. nothing bad. read ch.1 here. read ch.2 here.
two and a half minutes later there’s a pounding on scara’s window that frightens him out of the chair and onto the floor. he looks up from the runner rug he landed on to see a face sat on the fire escape, a grin stretching across lips. curses spill out of his mouth as he gets to his feet and leans over the desk pressed up against the wall to unlock the window. “what the fuck?”
“yanked down the ladder. faster than buzzing,” he says. “and you gave me a time limit.”
“that was self imposed,” scara snaps, standing on his tippy toes and stretching his body to try and peer over the boy’s shoulder. “did you pull it back up? the landlord’s gonna call the cops.”
“oh, so when i’m early, i’m scolded and when i’m late, i’m scolded,” he says, rolling his eyes and pushing scara out of the way to crawl onto the desk and into his studio apartment. scara takes another look and can see the stairs folded up, looking untouched. a sigh of relief follows.
“misattribution of my irritation,” scara says, slamming the window closed hard enough to rattle the walls of his glorified closet. he turns around to see him toeing his shoes off politely with his head bowed… until he opens his mouth and sours the courtesy:
“real big words for such a pretty face,” he says, dodging when scara swings. “i’m joking!”
“bad joke.”
and he bursts into giggles, pulling a squirming scara into a bone-crushing hug before the boy can think of interrogating him for his impossibly sudden appearance. “you’d die without them,” he mumbles, pushing his cold nose into scara’s neck. he’s clawing at his arms, trying to pull them off, but they tighten like vines.
“what the fuck is this for?” scara asks, strained as he’s lifted off his feet. the question goes ignored and the air punches from his lungs from the force of the next squeeze.
the boy’s voice is suddenly serious, “you can handcuff yourself to me,” he says.
scara’s face flushes red as a cherry. “don’t make it sound weird,” he admonishes, tone pitching up. he gives one last kick of his feet before he surrenders, going limp as a doll. he quietly hopes the slamming beat of his heart is not as loud as it is in his ears.
“no, it’s a good idea,” the boy mumbles, lips brushing against the sensitive shallow above scara’s collarbones. his eyes widen as a shiver slides down his spine, followed by delicate fingertips tracing the ridge of the bones of his back lower and lower–– which means he’s being held up by the strength of a single arm. the revelation sizzles scara’s brain, restarting a few times from the electrical overload as lips ghost skin again, “i could keep you safe.” and scara realizes there’s a warm heat pooling in his stomach and a pathetic noise crawling up his throat… he panics, swallowing it as he flails wildly once again with a real strength this time. he’s dropped unceremoniously onto hardwood and he curses, rubbing at his tailbone. “sorry,” says the perpetrator with the gall to look sheepish.
“i-i’m still mad at you,” scara says, cringing at his own petulance. “don’t think you’ve distracted me with whatever… that was. acting like a guilty dog.”
he puts a finger to his lips and hums. “maybe a leash instead?”
“gross!” scara exclaims, kicking a foot out and making contact with his shin. there’s a sharp, sucking gasp as he keels over onto the floor. “f-freak,” scara stutters, mostly to himself as he tries to banish images the swift mind conjures.
after a minute of letting the pain dissipate, he opens his mouth again: “what are you mad about? yesterday?” he asks from where he lay, forehead still glued to the floor in defeat. “i’m sorry. that was shitty.”
“where did you go?” scara demands.
“around. i got you something,” he says, fishing around his pocket. “my apology gift.” scara almost groans. maybe mona was right, he had a boyfriend with none of the perks and all of the disappointment.
he gets into a sitting position across from scara and drops a small ball of tissue paper on the floor with excitement gleaming in his eye. scara reaches a tentative hand to take it and begins to unwrap. careful not to rip the delicate tissue, he reveals a strip of silver that catches the ambient light. he peels the piece out and it sits like a dime in his palm.
the little charm is quickly warmed by the heat of his hands. he eyes it closely, noticing the delicate carving of their initials sitting together. “did you make this?”
“mn,” he affirms with a smile.
it’s a replica from the past of a dime-turned-pendant the two traded as children before scara tied it to a bridge on a summer trip in paris with his step-mother.
he was proud, at the time, to declare his friendship as important as everyone else’s with the pendant’s leather cord knotted around a metal bar like the locks beside it. yae even helped guide his swiss army knife into the soft metal of the coin till chicken-scratch letters were married to each other. she took a photo for him, sent it to the other boy’s mom, too. until he grew up and realized the pendant was wrapped around a love lock bridge meant for people who kiss. and it was brought up to tease him. over and over.
“are you making fun of me?”
“what?” he asks, face falling.
scara’s heart races. “the jokes, the hug, this,” he starts, bile burning the back of his throat.
“what do you mean? why would i make fun of you?”
“y-you make fun of me all the time!”
“so do you!” he exclaims. “but why would i do it now?”
“what is this for?” scara asks, clutching the metal in his fist.
the eyes across from him widen. his throat bobs. he fidgets with his hands when he answers, “you seem worried… that i don’t care about you.”
scara’s face twists into a grimace as frustration surges like high tide. he can hear it in his ears as pressure constricts his temples. “what do you think i’m upset about? be clear.” and while previous blades had been blunt, like wooden sticks to spar with, these words are sharp.
the boy takes a resigned breath and opens up, uncrossing his arms and sitting with his legs spread. “that i’m late? i miss plans? i don’t text back?” he asks with a tilt of his head, the uncertainty dripping off his voice is like kerosene.
“no!” scara almost shouts as his temper ignites. his voice only climbs higher and higher, “why– you’re– you don’t even know what i’m… that’s not what i’m––” scara catches himself when the boy across from him flinches. taking a deep breath, he recalls nahida’s warm whispered prayers, i will be kind and gentle to every living thing. focusing on the weight of the drop of metal in his hand, he rubs it with his thumb, pressing flesh into the shallow channels of their initials. the flame dampens.
“that’s not what i’m upset about,” he says, settled.
then comes the exceedingly careful question, uttered like a plea: “what are you upset about?”
“i’m worried about you,” scara spills. “you won’t tell me what you’re doing, and it frustrates me, but it’s not a jealousy thing or a snubbed thing, it’s a… my b-best friend is suddenly skipping classes and he’s never done that before… thing,” the words tumble out of him, “and he shows up with bruises, and he texts me this cryptic shit like he’s on the run. and he’s not the kind of guy to disappear without telling anyone, but he keeps disappearing without telling anyone!” he says, drawing up into himself with crossed arms and an avoidant gaze like he can protect the physical while revealing the underbelly of his mind. “i’m upset because i’m scared that maybe you’re in... that you're in trouble! or something. and you won’t let me help. my best friend won’t let me help,” he says, opening his palm to take a look at the coin. “s-so, to me, this doesn’t… this doesn’t mean anything,” scara surmises with a frown and tosses it back to the other boy.
he catches it between his fingers. the nonchalance in his movement feels like a sleight against scara’s bumbling vulnerability. and as the climax of his words peters, the two fall into an unnameable silence. even the upstairs neighbor has retired with the absence of creaking footsteps from the ceiling above them.
despite this, he still searches for scara’s gaze. “do you think it’s your fault?” he asks gently.
“what?” the question is soft in his nervousness as he denies his eyes.
“do you think it’s your fault i won’t tell you?”
an admission of something, he notices, but the confirmation is overshadowed by the surgical precision of his question. in fact, his body reacts much quicker than a thought can form. his vision goes blurry and he blinks only to feel fat tears track down his cheeks. horrified, his sweater-covered palms vigorously wipe at his face and press down on his eyes, but like a burst levy, water flows. “is it my fault?” he asks, voice thick and bottom lip trembling.
“no,” he answers. he sounds closer. scara looks up to see him an arm’s length away. “it’s not. you know, you would be the first person i’d tell. if i could. you’re the only one who’s noticed,” he says. “noticed enough to make me admit something.” and he pokes a bit further: “noticed enough to cry about it.”
“s-shut up,” scara says, wiping at his face, but he does nothing to push the reaching hand away. the front of his loose sweater is fisted and pulled, but the material’s give does nothing to move him. instead, he takes the invitation by guiding himself into this new seat and wrapping his legs around a waist, arms around a neck. he forgoes the natural pillow of the other boy’s chest in favor of the reverse, guiding the other’s face into the same position as before –– lips and warm breath brushing scara’s collarbones –– a choice made to keep the illusion of control. no other reason. “you’re not lying, right?” scara asks, re-propping the ghost of his mental guard despite revealing the softness of his body.
“besides omission. and the shit i say sometimes… to cover. i don’t like lying. s’why i’m so bad at it,” the words are muffled against scara’s neck, sending tingles up his throat.
“and whatever… you’re doing. it’s dangerous?”
scara can feel his face squeeze around before he answers. “yeah. sure, yeah.”
“ridiculous,” scara mutters under his breath and gives the boy a pinch. “nahida loves you like a son, you know, she could help… somehow,” he mumbles. “and if you needed something crazy… like, anything… i could just… i would even call… her,” scara trails off. “if you needed me to.”
“what? just kill me if i do something stupid enough to warrant ei intervention.”
scara hums. “recently… she’s been a lot nicer,” he says.
“oh really?” he asks, shifting his weight and almost toppling them both. scara holds on tight, mouth opening to protest as he realizes the boy is about to stand… but he does it, and he does it like it’s easy.
scara swallows hard, really hard, as he’s carried to his bed. “is the thing you’re doing at the gym?” he blurts. “jesus christ, i wasn’t going to say it before, but,” the words get louder and louder in an attempt to drown the more shameful whispers of his mind turning his face red as he’s gently laid in the mattress.
he giggles, “i think it's a side effect." he presses a knee against scara's side and his eyes dart to the movement.
scara's almost disappointed when he pushes off to fall beside him and not on him, but the feeling is tempered by vines reclaiming his waist as a chest presses flush against his back. his head stuffs with cotton, edges of his vision softening.
and suddenly, he finds the plausible deniability laced through their years-long intimacy to be a bit cruel and unusual.
i should tell him to stop, scara thinks. he doesn’t know what he’s doing. he opens his mouth, but the betrayal of his brain leads to him detailing recent maternal events instead. among other things, too, like a plan for their report due the following week and how nahida’s bought him his favorite tea from a traditional shop or how he almost got hit by a car (earning a bone-crushing squeeze reminiscent to the one he was greeted with) and how spiderman is actually kind of awkward (a disappointed sigh) until the quiet attentive hums fade into whispers of a murmur, and then they die completely.
scara twists his head around, wiggling the velcro grip loose till he’s nose to nose with a softly snoring face.
he reaches down to feel around the boy’s wrist, slipping a finger under the leather strap and tugging it off. the ordeal takes three slow minutes, but the fruit of his labor is the pendant returned without having to ask.
he slips the bracelet onto his wrist. “i like it,” he whispers to the unconscious figure beside him. “thank you.” that counts, scara thinks to himself as he flops back around. right? he lets his mind guide him in dizzy circles, fighting sleep by the light of the lamp on his nightstand. he isn’t anxious, though… not in the steady presence of this other body in his bed, and that is enough.
#tbh i might start crossposting to ao3#espesh since this is like long enough to justify posting ovr there#scaramouche x reader#wanderer x reader#scara x reader#did u guys see my little mixed media feature#texted myself tbh#ok littterally leave feedback if u want or whateverr#PLEAS GOAWDD PLEASS#sorry if this is really messy this is literally an au of my au AGHHGAHAHA
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hey! this might seem a bit of a weird question out of context, but would you be able to crosspost your earlier fics onto ao3? unfortunately it's looking more and more likely that ff.net is going down at some point soon, and it'd be such a shame to lose your works :(
also i know youve said that fics you wrote before c.2018 embarrass you - and i get that i really do, ive actively unpublished works i wrote when i was younger - so is there any way youd be happy reuploading them? e.g. editing them or reworking them before reuploading ? i just know there's a lot of people (me included) that'd hate to see any of your work lost
anyway have a good day ! :)
Hey! :)
I’ve been seeing a lot about ff.net going down. I’ve been offline for the past few days so I honestly have no idea what’s going on but I downloaded all of my works just in case, so they’re sitting on my laptop safe and sound.
That being said, the idea of posting some of them (most of them tbh) makes me cringe into oblivion. So they probably won’t appear on AO3 for a while because (you guessed it!) I plan to rework them. The idea is to improve everything or at least get it to a point where I don’t want to be engulfed by a black hole upon reading it. I’m not sure how long it will take because I’ve got Yesterday’s Promise, the Out of This World Series and I’m starting uni all at the same time, but eventually all my old fics will be online again.
(With the exception of my first ever work, Revenge, because I’m sorry but there’s really no saving that one!!)
#the aim is to get everything crossposted onto ao3 within the next 6 months#we shall see#anyway!!#I promise I’ll upload everything eventually :)
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Wake up. Ch 17 of ?
Tommy learns a lesson. Wilbur doesn't know who he should fight.
(CW: violence, descriptions of injury and gore. torture. tbh.)
crossposted to ao3
Ch 1
Ch 16
Ch 18
~
Tommy has several hours in the void to panic about what waits for him in the living world, but he spends most of that time distraught and furious at the fact that even dead that stupid fucking iron band remains around his wrist.
“No– No fucking way, that’s– that’s not fucking fair!” Tommy manages to get to his obsidian floor with surprising speed, if only to try and break his own wrist against the ground. Of course, it doesn’t work. It makes sense. Whatever bloody clothes Tommy died in carried over, the band was part of that, like a respawn taking clothes but not armor or what was in his inventory. Why couldn’t this fucking count as armor? Tommy’s anger turns sharply to grief. Tommy holds onto his own wrist, feeling the metal so stiffly bound to skin. At least the burn is healed. The dent in the metal is uncomfortable, not painful. Still, Tommy pushes against it, like he’s trying to slide it off his wrist, but he can’t even get it past the bones there, let alone the issue of his hand. He curls on his side, wrist cradled close. Dream wasn’t supposed to fucking follow him here. Dead is the only place left he has that was some fucked up illusion of safe.
Tommy shuts his eyes tightly, a whimpering sob rising from his chest, sharp and shuddering gasps followed by tears. He remains there, helpless in the dark, for far too long. Sobs return to shouting like the tide coming in.
“L-Let me go… let me fucking go–” Tommy’s voice is higher and weaker as yet again he bangs his wrist against the ground. “LET ME GO!” He tries to slam his wrist into the ground, not caring as his fist is bruised instead. The bruises won’t stay. “LET ME FUCKING GO!” Tommy screams himself hoarse. Tommy stops struggling, his right hand wrapped around the metal. It’s not fucking fair. “I don’t want it… I don’t want it fucking on me…” He mumbles weakly. It’s painful in what it symbolizes and irritating as an object. The cool metal, every time he moves it hits his bones almost painfully.
It couldn’t move enough to get that far.
Tommy opens his eyes.
The iron band is bigger.
“HA!” Tommy cackles, scrambling to force the band off, not caring as it hurts and threatens to break his thumb. It’s just big enough to pull free without breaking anything, it clatters to the ground. Tommy feels almost giddy, he grabs the ring and throws it as far as he can, it skidding away into darkness. “FUCK YOU!” Tommy shouts into the void with vicious rage at an inanimate object. He lays back, finally feeling an ounce of peace.
Maybe Tommy should realize by now that peace should be taken as a warning.
“Wake up.”
~
Niki wakes up to the sight of her dead best friend holding her hand. It takes her a few minutes more realize what it cost for her to finally have him beside her again. Wilbur wakes up with a start the moment she lets go. He watches her, slow to catch up, as Niki pulls back the blanket draped over her to reveal white bandages around her calf, ending in a stump.
“Niki…” Wilbur’s voice is hoarse. He doesn’t say anything else.
Niki reaches down to brush against the bandages, pulling back sharply. Niki’s eyes are watering, her lip trembles, but her words come out shockingly steady.
“What’re you doing here, Wil?”
They’re in one of the houses in New L’Manberg. She thinks it might be Phil’s, if Wilbur is here. She’s laid out on a small sofa that’s been fitted into a bed. Niki is having a hard time remembering the few seconds before she woke up here.
“I was just…” Wilbur doesn’t know what to say. “Fuck, I am so sorry, Niki, I–”
“What are you sorry for?”
“I– What?”
Niki finally looks away from her leg. “What do you have to be sorry for?”
Wilbur shrinks back in his chair, but he knows she isn’t talking about her miserable circumstances now. “Too many things to name,” he says quietly.
Niki nods curtly. “One day I want you to name them,” she swings her legs off the bed, stopping with a heavy sigh, staring at the ground. “After we get Tommy back.”
It’s generous. It’s more than Wilbur deserves.
He nods quickly, standing up, looking for the crutch Ponk had left for her. “H-Here,” he gives it to her. “A-And if you want, I can support you. Or– Or carry you, or whatever the case may–”
“Where is everyone? Tubbo and all them. They probably have questions,” Niki uses the crutch well enough, walking out of the house at a determined limp.
“Well, Jack only just left. Just stepped out for a minute. Other than that he’s been glued to your side, really. I think he went to get food?”
Wilbur was right on that account, as Jack almost drops the bag of goods he has as he runs to Niki’s side.
“Niki! You’re out here– Do you want to sit down?” Jack is immediately frantic.
“I’m okay, Jack,” Niki manages a smile.
The others on the platform are an unusual collection.
Tubbo, Sapnap, Phil, Punz, HBomb, and Ranboo all wait around.
“I’m gonna go get Ponk now that you’re awake,” Ranboo gets to his feet, typing out a message on his comm.
“Ranboo, just message them. No one goes anywhere if it’s not essential,” Sapnap says.
Ranboo frowns before stopping, nodding and doing as he said.
“What’re you all standing around for?” Niki asks.
“Um, to check on you. Obviously,” Jack says.
“Yeah, Niki. When you’re ready, could we talk to you about some stuff?” Sapnap is awkward and unsure. That makes more sense to her. He’s here to figure out what happened, she assumes Punz is as well.
Niki makes the mistake of starting to put weight on her right leg. She begins to fall and eight people all rush to catch her. “I’m fine,” she says sharply, barely allowing Jack to take her right arm around his shoulder. Already she hates this. If only for the pity.
“Everyone stop looking at me like I’m made of glass. I’m awake. Ask me something,” Niki says sharply, letting Jack walk her over to a chair HBomb had been quick to offer up.
“Okay, well, Niki. Can you tell us what you remember?” Tubbo asks.
Niki nods, struggling to focus. Her head hurts. “Well, I thought… I thought maybe I could check Tommy’s house? See if there was anything we might’ve missed? But… it wasn’t even in the front door. I think there might’ve been a wire? On the ground? I’m not really sure, I felt something sort of on my ankle and then…” Niki trails off. “Well, I think you know the rest.”
“If she hadn’t been wearing armor she would be dead,” Tubbo says quietly.
“Tubbo!” HBomb scolds him.
“It’s okay, H. He’s right,” Niki says. “Did anyone see what it actually was?”
Sapnap nods. “Me and Punz looked at it. There was redstone running under the ground, tnt under the path, from the looks of it. And yeah. A cut trip wire.”
Niki nods, thinking.
“Maybe it was… maybe it was just Tommy’s house, because it was Tommy’s house, you know?” Ranboo offers.
“Has anyone been in there recently?” Sapnap glances at Tubbo.
“No. I haven’t,” Tubbo says stiffly. He hasn’t gone closer than the garden outside. He doesn’t want to.
“So, it could’ve been old, too,” Sapnap posits.
“Well, shouldn’t we be careful?” Punz says sharply. “We can’t just assume that was the only place. They could be anywhere.”
Sapnap nods, grudgingly agreeing. “I don’t think anyone should go anywhere without full Netherite armor. And I think we should try to cut back on going places as much as we can until we can have some people do sweeps? Or something? And, like, maybe even more important, no one on one life goes anywhere without, like, someone else to walk in front of them. If that makes sense,” Sapnap falters. He’s not a fucking leader. He knew Dream better than most and he knew how to hunt people down, and that made him predisposed to leading the charge when they were looking for Dream in the moment, but the rest of it…
He wishes Tubbo were well enough to do this part. But even he never seemed inclined to leadership. What would really be great would be if Wilbur Soot were actually sane again.
That won’t be happening any time soon.
Tubbo looks irritated. “Clearly he’s doing this to stop us from looking. We can’t– We can’t do what he wants and stop.”
“Tubbo, we can’t expect people to go out like this,” Ranboo offers quietly.
“Yes, it’s a volunteer basis, like always, but you can’t fucking stop me from going out if everyone else is too scared to,” Tubbo stares at Sapnap, daring him to protest.
“Tubbo, you’re one of the people on one life,” Phil says gently.
Tubbo turns on him easily. “And if it were you, Phil? If Wilbur were still gone, would you listen and sit back with your one life?”
Phil wants to protest. He can’t.
Wilbur stares at his father, almost surprised that he’d even consider caring that much.
Punz sighs. “I’ll still go. I’ve got two lives to spare, so,” he shrugs.
“Really?” Sapnap looks at him, surprised. “I didn’t think you’d… It’s a big risk, man.”
Punz glances over at Niki, almost subconsciously. “And I’m willing to take it. So. Quit complaining and be grateful you have such a great person helping you.”
Ponk and Sam arrive, interrupting the subject at hand. “Er, sorry it took so long, Sam was a bit picky walking over here,” Ponk gives him a look.
“Can you blame me?” Sam frowns. “You’re down a life, Ponk. I’m not about to let you lose another one.” In Sam’s arms are, oddly enough, four right legs.
“Uhhh. Whatcha got there, Sam?” Ranboo asks.
“Oh! These’re leftover from when I made Ponk’s legs,” Sam says like this is an ordinary sort of statement. “They didn’t fit right and I thought maybe Niki could try them. They’re all pretty adjustable, I mean, prosthetics have to be exact, so we might get lucky. And if not, it’ll at least give me some measurements when I make her one.”
Niki looks pained for a moment. It all feels a bit more real now. “Oh. Thank you, Sam.”
“Psh, it’s not so bad, Niki,” Ponk pulls up their right pant leg to show off shining metal. “Sam is a really good redstone engineer. He could make just about anything.”
Sam blushes behind them. “Well, I dunno about that–”
“Quiet down, stupid! Let me talk about how cool you are!” Ponk teases him. “And shush. I gotta look at my patient.”
Ponk begins checking Niki over, checking to be sure her pupils are dilating and so on.
Sam refocuses on the others gathered. “Did you guys find anything?”
“It was simple redstone. TNT under the path,” Sapnap shrugs. “Nothing useful.”
“Well, there’s something else we’ve got to consider too,” Jack winces. “Who set the trap?”
“Dream, obviously,” Punz quips back immediately. “Have you been missing the plot or something?”
Jack looks offended for a moment before persisting. “I mean, I guess the guy could’ve snuck in with invis, but…” he trails off. “I dunno.”
Tubbo and Ranboo exchange adjacent, indirect glances.
“Well, who the hell would it be?” Punz remains doubtful. “I mean, Dream’s own best friend is the one helping hunt him down,” Punz gives Sapnap a nod. “I mean, the closest thing to a link to Dream we have is Wilbur, his former hostage,” Punz laughs. “I’m still betting he just used invis.”
“Well, actually,” Tubbo speaks carefully.
“What?” Phil gets sharp, but that’s because he’s caught on as well.
“Wilbur, where did you… where did you go? Earlier, when you stormed off for a bit?” Tubbo asks him carefully.
“I mean, Wilbur you came back sort of shaken up, covered in dirt…” Ranboo trails off, unable to stop himself from thinking on similar straits of him not remembering what he had done.
“I…” WIlbur stares at all of them. His dad, the kid he’d been talking down from a panic attack not an hour ago, a boy he’d only met a few weeks ago, his old best friend with every right to hate him, two of her closest friends beside her, a man who he had basically harassed recently over his relationship with Dream, some sword for hire who decided to have a heart, two far too helpful lovebirds who he barely remembers from the Manberg-Pogtopia days, and every single person is looking at him like he requires caution.
Wilbur snaps out of his social anxiety for a moment, “wait– wait what the fuck d’you mean– why the fuck would I be laying traps for Dream? Have you all lost it?”
Tubbo doesn’t falter and Wilbur almost feels betrayed that their kinship earlier seemingly means nothing. “Wilbur, I do not think you would work for Dream again willingly, but if Tommy’s on the line…” He hesitates. “No one would blame you.”
“And, well,” Niki, it’s Niki who speaks up next and it is not in his favor. “Explosives are sort of your m.o., Wilbur.”
“Niki,” Wilbur is horrified that just maybe what they’re saying makes sense, even if it isn’t true. “How could you think I’d– that I’d do that to you?!” He nods to her now unbandaged leg, the range of burns treated with health potions already reveal what scars would remain. The scar where Ponk had had to cut away ruined remains and sew up what could be saved.
Niki looks at him with wry amusement. “Wil, you… you sort of already have done this to me before. I was just a bit luckier that time.”
Wilbur looks as if she’d slapped him across the face. He gets to his feet. Pauses for a moment, and manages to stammer out, “I’m sorry,” in Niki’s general direction before he pushes past the group and all but runs out of New L’Manberg.
~
Tommy wakes up to the feeling of that iron back on his wrist. Not only that, but a chain wrapping around his other wrist. The iron band is thicker and heavier now, he can’t even see the lodestone, it just barely pulls against his skin when he moves at all, a painful sort of itch at the slightest shift in his muscles, clearly having been welded on while he was dead, that meant when he healed in the revival, the iron could very well be actually attached to his skin. He can’t look up properly, the chains keeping him stooped over in a chair.
“H-Hello?” Tommy says hoarsely, struggling to look around the room. “...Dream?”
“Hi, Tommy.”
Tommy flinches at that voice behind him. Dream doesn’t sound angry. Tommy knows that means nothing.
“Dream, I–” Tommy goes quiet with a whimper, Dream forcing him to look down until his chin is pressed to his chest.
“Don’t move, Tommy,” Dream says; Tommy listens. “You know, it’s my fault, really,” he sighs. “I didn’t explain to you what happens if you try to take it off.”
“W-What h–”
“Shut the fuck up,” Dream’s hand is squeezing tighter around the back of his neck now. “I highly suggest you don’t move. Or breathe. You’re good at that.”
Tommy has this sick, rising anxiety, alarms going off in his head, but he doesn’t speak.
“See, Tommy. The alternative to keeping it tied around your wrist, was to… make a little incision.”
Tommy chokes on a scream as there’s a sharp pain in his neck.
“Shhh,” Dream shushes him. “Let me finish explaining.” The pain doesn’t get worse for now, so Tommy manages to bury his panicked breathing. “The alternative, was to put the lodestone right here.”
“Don’t!” Tommy stammers on instinct, voice high and frantic as he feels Dream dig into whatever wound he had just made. He cries out as the pain gets worse.
“You don’t get to fucking decide anymore, Tommy,” Dream says with gritted teeth. Now his fury radiates. “You tried to take it take off. So the lodestone is going to go right next to your spine, that way if you or anyone else try to dig it out,” he draws out another scream, “you end up paralyzed or dead. Isn’t that clever of me?”
“D-Dream, please–”
“I said shut up! What, you can’t hear me all of the sudden? You tried to disobey me once, and now it’s a free for all?!” Dream shouts at him and Tommy wants nothing more than to be dead again. Dream digs deeper into his neck. Tommy can’t even scream, a hoarse whine as his eyes stream with tears just from the pain never mind the terror. “Maybe I should fucking paralyze you for all the shit you’ve put me through.”
“No! Please– Please, Dream, I am so so sorry, please don’t I didn’t– I s-shouldn’t have– please!” Tommy knows he’s sobbing now, he knows he sounds weak, but he doesn’t have a choice in that any more than he has a choice in the rest of it.
“What, you mean if I gave you another chance, you wouldn’t try to break it?” Dream scoffs.
“Y-Yes! Yes, I w-wouldn’t, I swear, I w-wouldn’t–”
“Swear it on something important.”
Tommy just wants Dream to get whatever fucking knife or scalpel it is out of his fucking neck. Talking makes the pain radiate, the vibrations of his vocal chords are enough to make the pain sharper. “I s-swear it on Wilbur.”
“Hm.”
Tommy goes limp, not paralyzed, but consumed by relief as the pain dulls, the blade no longer digging in deeper.
“You don’t have any fucking idea how lucky you are, Tommy,” Dream circles him so Tommy can finally see him, crouching down to his eye level, a bloody scalpel in one hand, and no sign of the lodestone. “The lodestone is still there,” he taps Tommy’s wrist. “Just wanted to… demonstrate how important it is that you don’t try to take it off,” he says with weighted warning behind every word.
Tommy can’t bring himself to speak. And the thought of nodding right now sounds agonizing. He thinks Dream understands that he’s definitely listening.
Dream stands. “I’ll give you some time to think on it, clear your head.”
Tommy hears Dream’s footsteps out of his line of sight, followed by an iron door closing, and Tommy is left staring down at his own bound wrists, unable to move. The blood has dripped down his neck now, tickling his back, warmer than the cold sweat he’s drenched in. Tommy stares at the iron band around his wrist, and the ring welded onto it, perfectly suited to lock onto a chain. Tommy is nauseous and almost dizzy, but he cannot rest, just as he cannot look away from the visible reminder that he is nothing more than a dog on a leash.
~
Wilbur disappears and Tubbo moves to follow.
“Tubbo, you shouldn’t go out there, one life, remember?” Sapnap stops him before he can run after him.
“And do you really think Wilbur disappearing after we just accused him of working with Dream is going to lead anywhere good?” Tubbo snaps.
Sapnap falters, looking weary. “We don’t know for sure it’s him. I mean, I know we all want to think it’s Wilbur–”
“Er, we do?” Phil cuts in.
“Yeah. I mean, like Tubbo said it wouldn’t be his fault. It would be a lot easier if it was Wilbur, he’s not exactly strong, and him being forced into it is better than like… some unknown powerful traitor in out midst,” Ranboo points out.
“Or it could be Dream with an invis potion, like Punz said,” HBomb points out.
“I can go after him. He went the way we came on the prime path, so I know that route is clear,” Sam offers. “I’ll just ask him to come back.”
Ponk hesitates. “Be careful, Sammy. You get yourself blown up and I will kick your ass,” they give him a warning look.
Sam buries a laugh. “I’m in all Netherite. Don’t worry, I’m untouchable!”
Niki gives him a look. “Right. All Netherite. Untouchable,” she glances down at her leg.
Sam looks almost embarrassed at this, gives her an unsure nod, and heads back up the prime path.
Sam doesn’t really know Wilbur. So he doesn’t really know what to say when he catches up to the guy pacing and rambling and chewing on his fingernails with a vengeance on the bridge outside the community house.
“Uh, hey, Wilbur?” Sam starts.
Wilbur screams, flinching back, a hand over his heart. “Jesus fucking christ! I thought you weren’t an actual creeper– you can’t sneak up on a man like that!”
“Oh, sorry,” Sam tries to make himself smaller. He’d remembered how skittish Tommy had been whenever he had stood guard. “Look, the others kind of want you to come back, I mean, it’s not safe out here–”
“Oh, why would it be unsafe for me if I’m the one who fucking laid the traps apparently?!” Wilbur snarls.
Sam frowns. “I don’t have an opinion. I just… definitely don’t think it’s safe out here either way. I mean, I try not to leave Ponk alone, when I can avoid it.”
“And why did you come after me then?!” Wilbur is still looking for a fight.
“...because Ponk is with people. And I’ve cleared this part of the prime path for traps, so. I was okay to follow you,” Sam is cautious, analytical.
Wilbur is downright twitchy. “Okay, okay, I know some shit about you, Sam. You’ve worked for Dream, right? You build t-that– that fucking prison for him, which, j-just–” Wilbur shudders, “makes my fucking skin crawl, knowing the shit he’s put together on his own without Mr. Redstone Engineer helping him, so– you don’t think that’s fucking shady?!”
Sam looks startled. “Well, I mean, I built the prison before I knew… any of this. So. I wouldn’t have done it knowing what I know now.” Sam says it like he’s stating the obvious.
This still isn’t what Wilbur wants. Wilbur gets in Sam’s face, the man towering over him by a foot and much bulkier, but Wilbur is undeterred, pointing a finger literally in Sam’s direction. “You… you knew Dream from way back, didn’t you? A-And you took that job from him, a-and– And you know fucking redstone, yeah? There was fancy redstone shit in Dream’s first base and the like– a-and you all… you…” Wilbur is quickly running out of fanatical steam. “And you… you…” Wilbur’s eyes are shining now, voice trembling. “You… you didn’t fucking protect him.” No one had explained thus far. Not really. How Tommy managed to slip through all of their fingertips.
Wilbur pushes against Sam, attempting to push him back, but Sam doesn’t move an inch. He doesn’t move toward Wilbur either, just looks slightly uncomfortable.
Wilbur brushes his eyes, staring directly at Sam’s chest like he can burn a hole in it. “P-Please–” he sniffs, clearing his throat in a feeble attempt to hide that he is very much crying. Wilbur isn’t whispering, but his voice is so small, almost childish in that quiet pleading, “please tell me you know where he is.”
Sam’s voice is different too, quieter, gentle. “I wish I did, Wilbur. I’m sorry.”
Wilbur nods shakily. He still hasn’t gotten what he wanted. Maybe it isn’t even for one of these strong bastards to be secretly working for the enemy, maybe he just wants one of them to snap and punch him and tell him he’s way out of line. No, no instead all they do is look at him like that and say I’m sorry.
Wilbur exhales a weak laugh, “you’re sorry. Heard that one before.” And with that, he turns around and heads back up the prime path toward New L’Manberg.
Sam decides then and there, regardless of the man’s insanity, there’s no way Wilbur is secretly working with Dream. He’ll be in the poor bastard’s corner, whatever debate is to come.
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What if I got really back into sanders sides? Would you still love me if I started rewatching sanders sides? Would you forgive me if I started writing sanders sides fics again? Bc... You might not believe this but... I'm thinking about getting back into sanders sides.
I deleted my side blog and unfollowed a ton of people like... 3 years ago? ish? I won't have any of my friends anymore and I think a lot of them moved on anyway. But I was going through my ao3 and seeing which fics still needed crossposting to ff.net, and... well... Tbh I'm a much better writer now but I had so much fun reading them. I can't remember the exact reason I went scorched earth on it all. It wasn't the community. I just blocked the people I didn't like. Maybe it's bc of associations I had with outside stuff or maybe it was just my mental state but I really wish I still had my blog. I repurposed the corresponding instagram, too, so I have literally nothing of my old posts, just my fanfics.
Also to be clear everything above the cut was a joke, I'm not ashamed of my interests, I don't want anyone to think that. It's mostly a joke for me bc I went so scorched earth that I filtered out all of the tags even. I really seriously can't remember why it was so bad that it was triggering me to that point. And I do mean triggering. I seriously must have been very depressed (not surprising) to not remember any if this. But I'm doing a lot better now so idk. Might see if my blog name is still available tbh. Idk if I'll jump back in.
But like... It was so much fun. But maybe I'm just going back to my ex bc my current lover is stressing me out. I don't have time for all these hos.
I do still have a ton of wips...
It's past 1 am I'm going to bed and I'll attempt rational thought in the morning.
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A few hours late but I'm an AmeCan shipper! It might be different for me, as I only started creating stuff for them recently, and I don't usually post in the main fandom tags. I also keep my fics site-locked on ao3 and hardly anyone knows about squidgeworld (similar to ao3, run by one person atm iirc but they're planning on making it so the site can continue after they're gone. I only use it as basically a back-up for my fics, I don't have the spoons to crosspost to get more readers).
Long tangent, but I've personally never gotten hate. At most was seeing a vague post I /think/ was about my fics based on the timing. But who knows, I could be wrong. ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯ Tbh the only hate I've gotten was being dogpiled on because of one of my trans headcanon posts that some ter//fs found and passed around. My account got termed around that time, so I think they mass flagged me :(
Usually when people comment, they say nice things! Usually because they ship it themselves. Maybe I've just gotten lucky for the most part, but I think people in the fandom are getting better at blocking and scrolling past compared to the past.
(From: I have a friendly yet curious question for the... - I can't even play the piano (tumblr.com))
Oh thank you for responding!! That does sound like a nice little peaceful circle, haha! I also noticed there was an AmeCan event week going on recently, so I was thinking, that's really neato for them to get their own week like that on the books, and they felt comfortable to do so. Then again, I don't know how long/how many years AmeCan had their weeks, of course! 🤣 I feel like folks are getting better at blocking and moving on, too. Fandoms will naturally always have bumps and discourses, but I also think things have settled down for the most part. Unless there's some underground Hetalia fight club out there??? 😳 Either way, curating our own experiences is so important to our enjoyment!
Of course it's the freaking TE//RF's having nothing better to do. Can't say I'm surprised. Sorry you had to deal with that. Now we're just gonna have to trans our headcanons even harder >:P
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vacation time!!
Summary: What’s their idea of a perfect vacation?
Pairing: Team Gojo + you/reader, Ryomen Sukuna
Word count: -
Content warning: mild manga spoilers for Gojo & Megumi (at that time at least)
A/N: crossposted from AO3
Gojo Satoru
I'm gonna go ahead and say it: this man is someone who really, really enjoys the beach
he gets to be super carefree and just do things he enjoys
hmagine him running around the beach in his swim trunks and sunglasses, hair down, just grinning and smiling and all happy. We would love to see that
would by no means go alone, will most likely go with Shoko and his s/o
might get a little lost in thought, reminiscing about old times but that's quickly forgotten... hopefully
will definitely give Shoko and/or his s/o a good shove into the water
like, they don't just slightly trip, they faceplant
he'd laugh his ass off and clutch his stomach
he's a big child after all
will definitely start a water splashing war too
he outswims the others since he's a fast one and has tons of stamina
he would also be able to just float on his back??? How does he do that, I could never
doesn't bring beverages (his s/o does), brings a ton of icecream instead
Gojo will certainly attract a lot of attention
I'm not sure if he'd turn heads because he's good-looking af or because he's such a baby
Itadori Yuji
I feel like Yuuji doesn't have a place he loves the most for vacation
but if he had to pick one, he would also pick the beach
or wherever he used to go to with his grandpa
he also enjoys hiking to the top of mountains though
you could literally just blindfold him and drag him somewhere and he would enjoy it so much, literally beaming
fml, he is precious
Yuuji would definitely go on vacation with friends from his old school + his s/o
he thinks: the more the merrier and he has not seen his old friends for a long time
just wants to have a good time before harsh missions await him again
brings a ball along because he might wanna play dodgeball or something
now that I think about it, I think he enjoys camping a lot
being under the stars, a campfire burning bright in their middle, maybe even singing songs
he loves that feeling of togetherness, it just makes him feel better in an instant
he wouldn't let his fun get taken away, even if a curse decides to show up
Fushiguro Megumi
for some reason I have the feeling that Megumi is more of a stay-at-home dude
if he went anywhere, it would not be as 'fancy' as the beach or anything
vacation = being able to relax (at home), finally being able to take his mind off of some shitty stuff that has been burdening him
he'd stay in his bed most of the time and maybe read a book, play games or watch TV
occasionally he will go outside to just chill on a meadow, lie down, close his eyes and just inhale, exhale
might doze off or not, he never knows
would more likely spend it alone than with someone
if he was to spend it with someone, he would spend it as quality time with his s/o... or with his sister... or both
Megumi would still educate himself on the world of Jujutsu (because you never stop learning) or might even train because he thinks he's powerless
someone come and hug this baby please
he deserves a 3 hour long hug
but don't worry, if he gets into one of these moods where he thinks he's not enough, his s/o will come and cheer him up, take it off his mind because he is amazing
movie night(s)!!!
or game nights?
Kugisaki Nobara
now this girl spoils herself more than Gojo does
this girl is able to enjoy herself alone or with people and by people I mean her s/o or even Maki
she will go to all the places she has always wanted to visit
namely Tokyo (yeah she lives there now but I'm sure she hasn't explored much of it), Kyoto, Osaka, Nagoya, Fukuoka, etc.
safe to say that she will go shopping, visits to theme parks or fairgrounds, festivals or whatever, you name it
Sightseeing: Nobara is one of those who takes aesthetic pictures of herself posing in front of something and uploading it to the Jujutsu Kaisen equivalent of Instagram, Jujugram
will try all the different foods, food pictures
her s/o is the one taking cute pictures of her
if the picture doesn't come out right? re-do it.
suddenly the idea of her going to a concert popped into my head, so here I am, presenting this idea as well
since she's a woman of culture, i can sort of picturing her go to historic monuments too
she will go to a beauty salon she has heard a lot of
gets a manicure and pedicure since she wasn't able to do so for a long time because she was busy busy
ah yes, massages too
is veryyyy giddy with pleasure
Ryomen Sukuna
a bloodbath tbh
period
#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#jjk manga spoilers#jujutsu headcanons#itadori yuji#yuji x reader#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#fushiguro megumi#megumi x reader#nobara x reader#kugisaki nobara#ryomen sukuna#ryomen sukuna headcanons#itadori yuji headcanons#gojo satoru headcanons#kugisaki nobara headcanons#fushiguro megumi headcanons
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Fic writer review [Or a fic writer tag game if you prefer]
I was tagged by @naralanis and I can already see her grin all the way from where I am xd Thank you, dear, for the tag, let’s see what are my answers, shall we.
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
*bursts out laughing* Adding both pseuds I have… 535 according to the account info but by counting them all I’m reaching 541 so I’m guessing it’s counting some drafts I need to re-find.
2. What’s your total AO3 word count?
I seriously hated you for this one xd I was going to do it by hand by I decided one-third there that I value my mental stability a little bit more xd according to the stats page back at a03 that number would be 1257884. It may be wrong. I think there should be a few more numbers up there but the majority of my works are one-shots so *shrugs* There’s also the fact that counting my ao3 things only is shaving off like half of it Xd Anyway, can we laugh at the fact that I’m a pain in the ass and that I’ve written a lot? More than I should have, that’s for sure
3. How many fandoms have you written for?
Trick question because I haven’t crossposted everything I wrote back in ffnet and I actually erased some fics from my account back there so the numbers are a little blurry there.
When I had the entirety of my work posted both in ffnet and a03 I had written for: Twilight (Bella/Alice) Glee (Faberry and there were a couple Pezberry and I don’t fucking remember the pairing name for Santana and Quinn), Harry Potter (Hermione/Ginny, Hermione/Narcissa, Hermione/Bellatrix) OUAT (SwanQueen and several oneshots focusing on the mad hatter and the blue fairy solely back at ffnet that were written in Spanish and never translated), I actually had a veeeery old au prompt of Frozen (Elsanna in where I wrote them as non sibilings), Rizzoli and Isles (Rizzles), Dishonored 2 (Emily Kaldwin/Alexi Mayhew), Lara Croft and Wonder Woman, Supergirl (SuperCorp/Supercat) I had a 100 one -or maybe two??- (Clexa), The Shannara Chronicles (Amberle/Eretreia [Or Princess Rover], Rwby [Blake Belladona/Yang], The Worst Witch (Hecate Hardbroom and Pippa Pentangle), The Half of it, Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (Madam Satan/Zelda Spellman) and… I think that’s it(?) I may be forgetting some but probably nothing important if I’m not remembering it lol.
4. Top 5 fics by kudos?
Ah, we are going to go there, uh? Xd My works are not the kudos and comment getting type Xd So I was quite surprised when I went to check this.
1: Cracked it I wrote this one back in 2017, it was a prompt done by an anon: Lena is nerding with one of her projects at home, mumbling mostly to herself because she’s stuck and Kara casually mentions how to solve the problem like it’s nothing. I really had some fun with this. It was back when some us, SQeeners were fully doing the jump between OUAT and SuperGirl (I mean, there had already been some crossover as for fandom is related but this when the girls were actually getting their conjoined voice within the fandom)
2: Dateless I honestly needed to check what this one was about but I think I can see why this one shot has the amount of kudos it has. It’s a short and sweet idea and responds to the Teachers Au that went SO well with SQ. Everyone thinks they hate each other and try to set them up with other people whilst they, in truth, are dating. I don’t remember if I wrote them as married rather than dating but despite being from 2017 as well is one cheeky enough to be cool Xd I probably would edit some lines now *shudders*
3: After you I truly didn’t expect this one to be top 3. Makes me think of a lot of things, if I’m being honest Xd. After you was a one shot written almost feverishly as an answer to the fabulous drawings that Sejic did of both Lara Croft and Wonder Woman back at 2018 or something. It’s just Lara and Diana being himbos but not at all with each other.
4: How about… How about is one I remember perfectly, it was my answer to the ending of the Half of it film. I had SOME thoughts about it, let’s just stop there Xd I really liked the film itself but I think and I thought at the time that my response to wishing for a final scene at the very end of the credits responds to me being in a different personal moment than the characters. I really wanted to explore my feelings about it and so I wrote about them finding each other again after some time passes. It was also something I wrote after quite the hiatus so I took it as something I could write about without focusing too much on the why.
5: Come to me
Ahh, SuperCorp Xd I remember this one actually. A friend of mine and I were talking about descriptions, and she mentioned quite off-handedly how she wanted a fic in where Kara’s back was described. I complied… more or less.
Fun tidbit, despite the big volume of my work is obviously set in ouat there’s only 1 SQ fic there as you can see, the others are either SuperCorp or the random one shots I created for Wonderwoman/Lara Croft and The half of it. *sighs in deep thought* I’m also not going to look too much into how almost all of the fics were posted and written back in 2017. Nope, not at all.
*Small voice screaming you peaked in 2017 and everything else is garbage jumps back and forth*
5. Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?
I tend to always respond, yup. I truly value comments. I might have gone for spells of time in where I didn’t have the mental capacity to check in old fics because I truly didn’t know what to answer but I treasure every single comment and you all who comment know that I can start to ramble in the answers xd -sorry about that- I really really REALLY love interaction.
6. A fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending:
Ok, Nara, come on, this one is a catch for me. I’ve written angst in far too many fics to remember the angstiest one :P I have the most recent one, though, that is the easy one to think about: Goodbye.Written for @delirious-comfort. I’m just going to say “Kisses with their last dying breath” as an idea of what awaits inside but I’ve written about death and loss and angst quite a lot. There were some I wrote back to SQ with Regina needing to kill Emma during the Dark Swan arc that, to this day, I still love and some others in where Regina is the one that dies, again and again, trapped by magic while Emma watches. I have the loss in mental destruction form and… I REALLY like my angst y’know xd
7. Do you write crossovers?
Not counting Lara and Wonder Woman not really! I think it comes from the fact that I loooove worldbuilding as a whole and some pairings would require all my focus into making the world perfect which in turn would make me self conscious on the OOCness of it all.
8. Ever received hate on a fic?
*snorts* I’ve received hate due to the pairing I’ve written about, how I’ve written about it, the amount I’ve written, how slow or quick I can be, the usage of some tropes, the lack of usage of those same tropes… Let’s just go with: yuuuup.
9. Do you write smut?
I’ve written smut, yeah! But I can already see the pointed looks of some so let’s elaborate Xd I write smut when asked and sometimes when not asked but there’s a part of me I like to call a terrible tease that prefers writing the beginning of a scene, taunt it, focus on what happens before the sex scene per se as I find it more enjoyable to write. The process of escalation is always the best for me to see what can I do it by using both dialogue and descriptors tbh, so I tend to tease more than show.
9. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
A few weeks ago I’d have said: Maybe(?) But trying to follow the trail of some other fics that had been stolen from some friends -I think it was me trying to find more about the page that stole something from your Nara!- I found some pages in where my fics had been reposted. In some it was stated that the person posting the fic wasn’t the author but I had never been contacted in order to see if I’d say yes to such a thing and in some others the page was locked up but I could still see someone was pretending to be the author. I did the thing and got some of those down.
Pointed note: Ask me if you want to post or translate or anything. I will look into you and answer you if you seem honest about the thing. But despite every joke and self-deprecating comment those 500 and then some fics represent MY time so very kindly I say fuck off to those who wish to steal from me and if I catch you… you don’t really want to see me angry, trust me.
10. Ever had a fic translated?
I’ve given permission to some, yeah, but never heard it back from them so I’m guessing it didn’t stick.
12. Have you ever co-written a fic?
I’ve written series alongside other authors as @stregaomega for example. And some others that are unpublished -looking at you @carsonnieve - I’ve also done collabs… but fics co-written in the sense of two authors same chapters I don’t have anything posted I’m afraid :P
13. All-time favourite ship?
*snorts*, I guess the obvious answer is SQ uh? And I do think they were the ones that allowed me to read and write SO much. The one I feel more strongly about, however, is Bering and Wells from Warehouse 13.
14. WIP you want to finish, but don’t think you ever will?
All of them counts as a valid answer? But if I only could finish one that would be Arcadia. With A forgotten Promise second and the one I did as an Assassins Creed AU third. (I don’t remember the name so there’s no link, sorry xd)
15. Writing strengths?
Uhhhh, you REALLY want me to say that? I don’t fucking know!! To me everything I write is garbage. I always try to go for the feelings so I guess. Dunno xd I’ve been told I’m good at worldbuilding and to be honest is what I enjoy the most.
16. Writing weaknesses?
Everything Xd Pacing? What I hate the most sometimes is dialogue, I would count it as a weakness but I’m always far too focused on description rather than dialogue. I don’t think it’s a bad thing per se but it’s something that I don’t do as much.
17. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?
I’m conflicted. Always. Majorly because I think that having bilingual characters in fanfiction is portrayed and expected in a way that I don’t feel it’s honest with how bilingual people -us- talk. So if I go by what I know I do I think it’s not what readers hope to see when it comes to that and if I go for how canonically is hoped to be found I don’t think it’s logical. But that’s me and my overthinking Xd If I have the option I like to do it.
18. First fandom you ever wrote for?
Belice! Or Bella/Alice. Worst first fic ever but oh, well, I’m always saying that :P
19. What’s your fav fic you’ve written so far?
Uhh… Don’t make me do this XD Agh, I don’t know. I’ve always been very vocal about Metallic Ink because I let myself enjoy the process of creating a magic system almost out of zero and that was fun. Despite hating some of the writing process and that I’d do it differently now I think I’m going to stick with that answer. Or anything that had any steampunk-based undertone. To be honest I like more thinking of concepts, I had one in where Emma was a thief and it involved the robbery of a ring that was Regina’s one way ticket to freedom I then later repurposed that I adored thinking about so let’s go with…. Yeah, I love having the option of changing things up a little and focus on how characters would fit in different aesthetics for this one Xd
Annnd… these are four pages, gods. I’m just going to tag @waknatious @carsonnieve @stregaomega here and see what they do- Enjoy the questionnaire ladies :P
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Wanna Know a Writer
Tagged by @misdemeanor1331
How many works do you have on AO3?
- 19. a bit less than I thought, but my AO3 profile is actually less of a WIP graveyard than I thought it was. That’s what my google drive is for lmao.
What’s your total AO3 word count?
- 101354 , again more than I thought considering.
How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?
- I mentioned the WIP graveyard that is my google drive, here’s a peek at the folders in it:
What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
Sucker Punch (Daredevil) - I know I’ve said this before, but I think I’ll actually finish this one this year.
Your Own Personal Jarvis (Teen Wolf)
Holding it Together Like a Rubber Band (Teen Wolf)
Mike the Lamest Werewolf Ever (Suits)
Best Friends Forever (How I Met Your Mother) - I’m kind of shocked that a little crackfic I wrote for a friend ages ago is this high up on the list tbh.
Do you respond to comments, why or why not?
- I try to respond to every comment, though I know I lose track of them on older fics. I post stories that I want to share with other people, and getting to talk to those people about my stories or just thank them for reading gives me warm fuzzies.
What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?
- this is tough because I don’t tend to write angsty endings. I think probably ‘Love Him Protect Him’? which, fun fact, I wrote for an English class after we watched The Truman Show. you heard that right my loves, I submitted fanfic for a grade without an ounce of shame. I can’t remember what grade I got on it, it was so long ago, but it must have been at least a B+ because I still liked that teacher afterward. 😂
Do you write crossovers? If so what’s the craziest one you’ve written?
- I most certainly do. half my favorite shit I’ve written is off-the-wall crossovers. one that still seems to get kudos is ‘corrupting the youth of today’, which is iron man mcu/ouran high school host club.
Have you ever received hate on a fic?
- yeah. not recently though now that I’m thinking about it? which might be because I stopped crossposting to FFN a while ago. it was mostly out of laziness, but I also feel like the comment culture there was starting to get pretty bad around when I stopped.
Do you write smut? If so what kind?
- I do occasionally venture into the porn mines, it’s true. usually when I’m seized by an idea for just a really compelling interaction between two characters, and then I have to write a whole scene around it to justify it. or sometimes a whole fic, in the case of Sucker Punch. 😅
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
- not to my knowledge, knock on wood.
Have you ever had a fic translated?
- I think so? I’ve had people ask for permission and granted it, but I don’t think I’ve ever gotten confirmation or a link to the posted translation.
What’s your all time favorite ship?
- the ships, they come and go with the seasons, and I but wait for them to come in. aka don’t have one, unrepentant multishipper.
What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?
- I started a couple of sequels to older fics of mine right after I originally posted them, and never really made headway on them. I’m no longer active in the Eureka or Psych fandoms so I doubt I’ll go back and finish them. I’m pretty happy with where I left the endings on the original one-shots so I’m fine with those sequels/timestamps being trunked.
What are your writing strengths?
- probably dialogue, humor, and flow of both.
What are your writing weaknesses?
- empty rooms and blank faces. why describe what a character looks like or where they are? the reader has an imagination, they can use it, right? also rarely finishing anything in the past, though I’m going to chalk that one up to the previously undiagnosed adhd.
What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?
- if it’s in a language a writer is fluent/has background in, of course. if it’s natural for the characters, and the writer is actively seeking fluent beta readers/translators/feedback, I can see a place for it. if it’s just inserted as ‘flavor’ or to make a character seem ‘exotic’ or ‘worldly’ a la google translate, nah. other people’s cultures aren’t window dressing. I’ve seen that happen a few too many times in english-language fandoms for original works in other languages, so I’m a bit wary of it now.
What was the first fandom you wrote for?
- probably teen titans? the original cartoon network animated show, never read the comics. and haven’t seen the new teen titans go or Titans.
What’s your favorite fic that you’ve written?
- usually whatever I wrote 6 months ago. long enough ago that I’m not super-critical of it anymore, but not so long ago I forgot about it lmao.
tagging: @colubrina @plaudiusplants @vtsuion @shastuhh @naarna - if any of y’all feel like it
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Author Self Interview
Thanks for the tag @flamehotman!
Name:
Rasna/Rasnak
Fandoms:
ATLA, LoK, Mahabharata, RDB, PJO, Kane Chronicles, (Kinda formerly: Sherlock (BBC), Marvel, Harry Potter.)
Where do you post:
AO3, Wattpad and sometimes crosspost on Fanfiction.
Most popular multichapter fic:
Kirti Kriti Aur Kartik Ki (KKAKK) on Wattpad and Mahabharata OS on AO3 (based on votes/kudos accordingly).
Most popular oneshot: Tough one there... If I am going by the Kudos, Just Give Me a Yes or No from my former AO3 account and Anniver- Wait What? from my current account.
Favourtie story you've written so far: I love all my fics. They are my babies, even if I am not always satisfied with what I've written and might have to abandon them cuz of time and when I feel I don't connect with the idea anymore. But if I had to choose... probably KKAKK. And the Closure series. Mother's Day and maybe Demons too.
Fic you were nervous to post:
I am nervous to post any of my fics 😂, especially the ones that deal with trauma/PTSD in some form or the other. But I think it's a tie between Artist Bros (considering it was a fic I wrote without even watching LoK), Of Con Artists and Royalty (as it is kinda a mixed bag of a lot of stuff) and tbh, my songfics.
How do you title your fics:
I struggle with it. Songfics are the easiest as the title is just the song's name (original or translated.) Otherwise most titles are like a... 'Ok this is the theme of this fic so it shall be the title,' which ends up being a random word(s) that is related to the whole fic (Kiran's Journey, Street Food, all fics in Closure series, etc.)
But I think the most thought I gave to keeping titles was for Eye Opener, maybe Demons and KKAKK...
How do you outline:
I usually don't. And in the rare case I do so... It starts with me ranting to my mutuals about a random idea, condensing the rant into a very rough paragraph as an outline and later on expand it to a page or two of the main details and finally a rough idea of what goes into each chapter.
Like for KKAKK it started off as 'what if A and B time travel to this time period and make drastic changes?' Then expanded it to a nearly 3 page outline of the major events/the idea of the OCs and I had chapter outlined and wrote nearly 40 chapters before I took it down for a rewrite.
Complete:
Eh... All my OS are complete for sure 😂 I have a bad luck when it comes to multi chapters so only A Mission to the Past, Kiran's Journey, Second Chances and Operation Makroh have escaped that curse for now. I should be completed with Equalists and the rest of the Closure series by November hopefully. Apart from that, none of my multichapters are in a state of getting the complete mark any time soon.
Do you accept prompts:
Yes, I am always open to them. I might take my time to come around finishing them but I do complete them *looks at Mahabharata OS and Lockdown Shenanigans and Hair Styling*
Upcoming story you're most excited to write about:
My Bumizumi AU+Bumi's Strays series for one, which I should start off at Sokka week and continue to Bumizumi week and Bending Brothers Fortnight.
As much as I dread them... Revenge and Hearts to Hearts from the Closure series.
Con Artist and Royalty.
The untitled Mako and Bolin adopts Jinora AU.
Story you're excited to read:
Now that... too many to count but my top ones definitely are the Unrequited(?) and it's spin off by @busy-bii, The Candle or The Mirror by @old-and-new-friends, Creeping like Ivy and Silence of the Blue Spirit by @flamehotman, Iroh Alone by @orangepanic and rereading each and every Makroh fic of @sukiekagamine and @old-and-new-friends...
Tagging:
@old-and-new-friends, @ohmygodtheywereparabatai, @busy-bii Anyone who wishes to do it tbh.
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tag game !
tagged by @jtrbluv !! ty love, i’ve seen this one going around and it looked fun !!
1. what fandoms have you written for (but do not currently)?
i only started writing fanfiction this year, so bts is the one and only lol
2. what fandoms are you currently writing for?
bts !! i think i’ll be sticking to just bts x reader fics during my time here :) (but i am def a big fan of other groups and post about them sometimes !! my other interests can be found through the navi and i’m down to chat/fangirl anytime)
3. how long have you been writing?
like five or six years? i used to write original stories on wattpad in middle school but i have unfortunately forgotten both the username and password to that account and just realized those monstrosities might still be floating around on there oof
4. on which platforms do you post your stories?
just tumblr !! i’m the process of making an ao3 in case something happens to my account, but i probably won’t crosspost unless i have to, just kinda depends
5. what is your favourite genre to write?
def fluff and comedy !!! i enjoy angst but i’m a bit of a method actor in that i deeply feel whatever i’m writing so i normally don’t make it far writing angst lol but i will try one day !!
6. are you a pantser or a planner?
planner for sure !! i have def written fics that weren’t planned, but i tend to feel way better about the ones that i plan out. they flow better when i plan them and when you know where your story is going it’s easier to foreshadow and actually build tension towards the climax and ending !!!
7. one shot or multi-chapter?
it really just depends on the story !!! it’s all in how i envision it tbh. if i see the scenes more as episodic and almost separately working towards the ending, then it’ll probably end up fitting into chapters. but if the scenes and arcs all really rely on each other and flow as a group, then yeah it’s a big one shot !! as a reader, i tend to binge anyway so it doesn’t matter to me lol
8. what is the perfect chapter length in your opinion?
lol again it depends on what suits the story !! and i think it’s fun sometimes for there to be a variety of chapter lengths
9. what is your longest published story? is it complete?
stepsisters and squires at 11.0k, and yes it’s complete !! although my current biggest project is probably going to end up around 15k and if i had to guess, part two will probably be a bit shorter than that
10. which story did you enjoy working on the most?
hmmmm for sure @alpacaparkaseok’s request case closed!! i was being very silly writing it and had a grand time, but takes two to tango is a close second behind !!!
11. favourite request you've have written and why (if any?)
oh well there we go it’s case closed !!! i love some good silly ridiculous romance and i feel like i did an okay job achieving that lol
12. are there reoccurring themes in your stories?
awkward people finding love ???? LOL and lots of overthinking only to realize things aren’t quite as big as they first appeared wait omg yeah that’s it that’s the one lmao. scrolled through my masterlist and it seems that the central conflict is always the main character versus their own mind which is basically my day-to-day life so makes sense i guess
also i’ve accidentally written people talking over each other and then said something like “timing’s funny” right after in two separate fics and needless to say i’m disappointed in myself LOL how did i do that ??? tsk tsk
13. current number of wips?
ahhh i’m not really sure how to count them but i’m like actively writing around four or five, i tend to bounce around and then suddenly binge write an entire one
14. three things you have noticed about your own writing?
hmmm well 1) we’ve learned my characters are too caught up in their own heads (like me muhahaha), 2) i tend to write pretty colloquially even though i have the vocabulary to be more descriptive lol, and 3) even when i don’t mean to i tend to end up writing based off of things i’ve experienced before
15. a quote you like from a published story
lol this isn’t particularly well written or anything i just think it’s funny and i really enjoyed writing this scene. it’s from stepsisters and squires !
“Maybe you can trick the witch!” You suggest, words muffled by the dessert you’re chewing on as you blatantly talk with your mouth open. All manners have been abandoned as Taehyung is eating two eclairs at once, equally focused on the matter at hand. “Well, no, maybe trying to trick a magical scary lady is a bad idea.”
i’m very attached to tae’s character despite him making a very minor appearance and i love his and the oc’s chaotic energy together haha !! i’d like to write him his own spin-off sometime based on their interaction
16. a quote from an unpublished story
hehe imma keep teasing the tae twoshot in the hopes that it makes me ACTUALLY FINISH IT FJKDLSHGLSDKJF anyway ~~~
“Your singing, on the other hand, is just fantastic,” he adds, smirking as he side-eyes you. He suppresses a laugh when he sees your mortified expression. You’re quick to cover it, crossing your arms and feigning pride.
“I know. You guys are lucky I’m not participating in the battle of the bands. I’d crush you.” Taehyung full on giggles then and you don’t hate it all that much. It’s a little squeaky though. But then his eyes light up and he’s grabbing you by the shoulders, a desperate look in his eye.
“Wait, would you wanna join? Because we could really use a mezzo voice, it’d completely change the sound—”
hopefully an official teaser will be dropped soon we’ll see !!!
17. space for you to say something to your readers
thank you guys for being so patient and supportive :( i know i’ve been very sporadic about posting and really haven’t posted at all in like a month and a half. it was very much my intention to write a bunch and then release things on a schedule (and it still is!!) but things have been difficult recently and prevented that from happening. to get to the point, you guys are so great and every piece of feedback and every like and every follow absolutely makes my heart soar. you guys remind me that i’m still capable of writing even when i really don’t feel like it and i appreciate you !! much love <333
tagging @softbobamilktae and @hyungieyoongi my go-to’s lol (sorry if you’ve already done it !!!)
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Brain of Veal
Squeezing in at the LAST POSSIBLE MINUTE, for @symbruary Day 29: "favorite official work". I was telling my roomie I needed to do that last day's prompt which was fave canon work and roomie asked "which work is that" and I said "The Hunger" and then I summarized The Hunger and then I spent uhhhh two and a half hours infodumping about Venom to my roomie.
(P.S.: if you wanna read them, I've got the full Costa run sans the Sleeper miniseries in my room, hit me up. Also can refer you to several guides on how best to back read the good 90s shit.)
I'd also like to personally thank lobac for running this event, it's been a delight to participate in and to check out the great stuff coming out of it, and also a delight to constantly have your Venom meta/commentary on my dash. I've been following you since your duck blog (I don't even read duck comics, I just love your posts about them?? i should probably read duck comics tbh) and I was absolutely over the moon when you started up a blog for one of my latent hyperfixations. Your blog is a gem in this fandom. Thank you.
Anyway this one's gonna be not a lot, comparatively, because it's less than an hour til midnight here and I wanna get it done TODAY while it's still February, and also I have given all that I can give and I can't give no more. As mentioned, my favorite official symbiote work is "The Hunger"—although "Maximum Carnage," "The Enemy Within," and everything that has ever flowed from Mike Costa's pen come very close—but like, I don't have the time/energy to write something special about "The Hunger," so I'm just gonna go with some "symby wants to eat brains and so Venom finds a solution that doesn't involve forcing Eddie to participate in cannibalism."
###
Eddie closed his menu, to complete the show of pretending he'd ever needed to consult it in the first place, and offered it to the waiter. "We'll have the cervelle de veau aux câpres." He was very careful to pronounce the words right while pretending he didn't need to be careful. The symbiote was barely conscious of Eddie's showmanship. It was practically running up and down Eddie's esophagus and doing loops through his intestines in eagerness.
At the word "we," the waiter glanced at the empty spot across from Eddie at the table, as if to check whether there was a drink set out for a second guest who was currently absent.
Eddie quickly clarified, "Just one order, please." Although the symbiote quickly told him that if it was good, it might want a second one. Eddie gently informed it that they probably couldn't afford a second one.
"Yes, sir." The waiter nodded and departed to give the order to the kitchen.
The symbiote had seen a late-night travelogue on French cuisine a few months ago. Amidst the other foods singled out as particularly enticing or strange had been cervelle de veau, or brain of veal, and the symbiote had promptly woken Eddie out of a deep sleep at four in the morning to demand they try it as soon as possible. It had taken a few months before Eddie they'd set aside enough money in their date night savings jar to cover a trip to a fancy French restaurant to find out what these legally-authorized acceptable-to-eat actually-made-as-food brains tasted like.
Eddie's mouth watered involuntarily when the plate was set down in front of him, with two very easily-identifiable delicately arranged brain hemispheres surrounded artfully with capers; he swallowed quickly, not wanting to give the waiter a chance to notice that his drool was currently green. It was a smaller brain than the symbiote had expected—but then it came from a baby, didn't it? Baby cow. Smaller head. It would be delicious all the same.
To Eddie's surprise, it was delicious—and not just to the the symbiote's overlapped sense of flavor preferences. Well. Here was to trying new foods.
The symbiote, however, found it rather... bland. Unexpectedly so. Disappointingly so. Something important was missing.
Eddie flagged down the waiter. "Excuse me—how is the brain is prepared?"
"I'm sorry, sir, we don't give out our recipes."
"No, no, that's fine, I just want to know—does the process cook out the phenethylamine?"
The waiter blinked. "I... don't know, sir." From the look of it, he didn't have the slightest idea what phenethylamine was. A concerned look crossed his face. "Are you allergic, sir?"
"No, no. Don't worry about it." Inside him, the symbiote wilted.
At least it tasted good, right? Right?
The symbiote draped in disappointment over his ribs.
Well, after the bill and the tip, they should still have a few bucks left over. Eddie reassured it that they could grab a pint of chocolate ice cream on the way home.
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Crossposted to AO3, link in my description. If you enjoyed, I'd appreciate a reblog or comment! Thanks for celebrating beautiful alien goo for a month with me! My other 28 fics for this event are on my blog under the #symbruary tag.
#symbiote#venom symbiote#venom#eddie brock#symbrock#symbruary#fanfic#my writing#(it's over!! finished!!!)
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Fic writer stats
Stealing this from @bibliophileemily
I currently have a total of 22 fics on all platforms (AO3, FFnet, Tumblr). tbh I don’t know why I still crosspost to FFnet since I never get any feedback over there XD;
Fandoms are split thusly: Xillia (19), Natsume Yuujinchou (1), Naruto (2)
Naruto was actually the first fandom I wrote for, back in 2005-2007 (I tried to calculate how old I was back then and my brain just went blank lmao). Those were written in French since I wasn’t fluent enough in English yet at the time. They’re only up on FFnet on my old account. I actually had 3 Naruto fics but I deleted one because it was a wip that wasn’t going to be finished. I left the one-shots up though. And now looking at them again I feel a bit sad because they got more reviews than any of my Xillia fics ever will T_T The perks of big fandoms I bet...
After that I gave up on fic writing until 2013, when the lack of Gaiwin contents prompted me to pick up writing again because might as well do it yourself yanno XD
So between 2013 and 2015, I wrote 7 one-shots (mostly from prompts) and started a wip that would not get updated for five years. (I actually wrote another one-shot but I got self-conscious about it and orphaned it rip)
Then I left Tales fandom, only to come back in December 2018 and pick up fic writing again in the process because the Gaiwin tag shall live dammit! So that’s 9 extra one-shots, one four-chapters fic, and some updating on the aforementioned wip since then. I’ve also started a few big projects that are far from ready to be posted any time soon.
The one Natsume fic was for an exchange.
Most productive year in terms of posting/updating is actually this year, but it’s probably different if we go by word count... I have a feeling I wrote the most last year? Even if a lot of that won’t get posted.
AO3 says I have a total of 53,567 words atm.
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👶,⭐,💘, and💻. Love you!!
thank you for ask anon! writer ask game is here if yall wanna send in something. still taking asks for these btw
👶- advice for new writers =
yall this is hella fucking generic but PRACTISE. theres a reason almost literally every writer on tumblr gives the advise of “practise practise practise” and that reason is it works. practise doesnt mean ‘oh just write bc youll automatically get better over time’ it means ‘write bc if you dont, you wont figure out what you need to improve.’ did yall know that i literally had no sentence variation in the past? i started every sentence with [character name] or [character pronoun] and i didnt realise until i was 15/16 and i only realised bc i started writing a lot.
i think there’s a fear of failure with new writers. there’s this lingering doubt of “what if its not good?” and boy howdy i will answer that question right fucking now. it wont be good. when i compare my current work to my earlier work, my earlier work sucked fucking shit. i spelled soldier with a fucking ‘j’ and i had no idea what the hell a point of view was. and thats okay. whoever tells you that youre going to perfect writing is a fucking liar. there is no perfecting writing. 20 years from now, imma look at the writing from today and im gonna think it sucks shit. writing is a process. its a craft. you get better and better over time and the way you get better is by experimenting w different styles, different genres, different ways of writing.
and the only way you can experiment and improve is through practise. in video games, especially rpgs (which are my favourite kind of video games), you struggle in the early game. youre at a low level, you dont have good equipment, you have a hard time moving to the next area. but the only way you progress is by grinding, gaining levels, and getting stronger. same w writing. if youre a level 1 writer, just starting out, no idea what to do, just experiment. fuck around a bit. write crackships, write rarepairs, write niche self-indulgent reader/character fics. at the end of the day, you should write for yourself. its good and cool if other people like your stuff and validate all your hard work, but at the end of the day, the one who should enjoy your writing the most is yourself.
you WILL mess up and you WILL struggle, but thats the only way you can improve. i struggle with pacing the most. still do. but others might have pacing down pat and struggle instead with word choice or pov or something else. cant figure out where you need to improve if you dont write, so just practise and worry about all the fine print later
⭐️- how do you get your inspiration? =
this is definitely not universal, but i just sit on my bed, close my eyes, and meditate. cycle through all my emotions and thoughts and filter them out. then i just toss everything out the damn window. like. id just meditate for a while, focus on breathing, on experiencing the present, picture a field and a tree and myself and breathe. thoughts fly by and i let them happen but dont focus on it.
meditating gives me some semblance of emotional control bc i normally have none, and it gives me kind of this space. this safe space that only exists for me and me alone. so i use that space to let the world drift away. just me and my thoughts and sometimes, those thoughts end up being good writing ideas. but i usually meditate for a set amount of time. like 15 minutes or 30 minutes so i dont write until i finish meditating.
then when i get out of my headspace, i open up my laptop and see what i remember. thinking too hard about something causes it to muddy up. same with art. in digital art, artists flip the canvas to refresh their eyes, see if there’s anything weird or wonky about the illustration that they normally dont see bc theyve gotten used to it. flipping the canvas is like giving our eyes a jumpstart and lets us see what we could do better. in traditional art, its turning the canvas this way and that or repositioning yourself. meditating is like that. a break. a cleanse. a kind of pause where you dont think about anything and just try to process what you already have. you relax and kind of let yourself float down a river of thoughts and sometimes, a fish would jump out of that river and youd go “hey, thats a good idea. i should try that” so when you get out of the river, youre refreshed and ready to go.
same principle with showers. more ideas come to you in the shower when you dont have anything to write with bc youre not thinking about it. youre not focusing on finding inspiration or motivation so ideas naturally flow through you. you know that feeling when you want to do x then someone comes along and says “hey you should do x” and suddenly all motivation to do x leaves? same w your brain. focus too much on “i should be writing” or “i want inspiration” and its never gonna come. just let things happen. at least, thats how i do it. some people might get inspiration by reading or watching tv. everyones different so if thats not what works out for you, dont feel pressured to try my method
💘- what’s your favorite AU? Least favorite? =
magic au. specifically fantasy au set in like a pre-modern era. shows like avatar where theres all this magic and fantastical beasts and so on and so forth. semi-modern like six of crows and nevernight are great too. i want that magic to be woven into people’s lives. harry potter is okay but there’s like this separation between magic and muggle. there’s this feeling of “magic” but like as a tool. like a spoon or a gun or a shovel. i want magic au’s that are INTEGRATED with the world its set in.
like in atla, earth kingdom people have trains they move with bending while fire nation people have machines powered by heat and steam. both correspond to their bending and makes sense for the world they live in. but if your plot is like harry potter and its less worldbuilding and more action, then there’s this book series called seasons rising (read it. so good) where there’s a bunch of spells but the spells have character. the people using the spells GIVE it character and it feels much more intimate. pokemon does the whole fantasy mixed w reality better. give two trainers the exact same pokemon and by the time that pokemon reaches lvl 50, its gonna have a different moveset, different fight style, etc bc it was shaped by the world and people around it. i like harry potter but tbh it could have been so much better
for the least favourite au, it’s A/B/O i dont like the whole “omegas are only good for breeding hurr durr” and “alphas are violent and aggressive and cant control themselves around omegas” thing and it squicks me out. major squick. i read the original harry potter squick (THAT one. yeah. you know the one) and i still hate a/b/o more. i get why people like it, and there are one or two fics set in a/b/o au that i enjoy reading, but as a whole, i severely dislike a/b/o fics.
the themes are squick, the character dynamics get so messed up, and shipping dynamics (bc a/b/o fics usually have shipping) just get so blown out of proportion. there are so many a/b/o fics that turn ooc or the character interpretations radically change or something else. no hate against a/b/o fans bc yall are amazing for writing/drawing yalls au. there are things that you can only do in this setting and exploring those things can be incredibly fun for people, but for me personally, its not an au i like to visit.
💻- three works of yours that are must reads =
i. dont know what fandom youre in anon or your genre preferences. so ill just rec you one fic for a different fandom each with kind of different genres. ts masterlist is on my side @hufflepuff-deceit and regular fanfic masterlist is on my writing blog @crownonymous
(BNHA) Viper. its my first serious attempt at fanfic in YEARS and its my baby. currently has 7 chapters, i havent updated it in a while bc im hyperfocused on ts rn, but i love it to bits. its just all of my fav bnha fics crammed into one fic. quirkless kind of villain izuku with stain as a mentor as they work together to bring light to the injustices of hero society and where bakugos bullying has visible and long-lasting repercussions? sign me the fuck up. you can read it on ao3 HERE bc its not on tumblr. kind of fast-paced, has a lot more action scenes than anything else ive written. heavy plot-wise but has a lot of humour and comedy to break things up
(Kimetsu no Yaiba) I Pray To God He Hears You. not related to my other kny fic oleander which is a multichap retelling au. iptghhy is a standalone one-shot and kind of a character study on one giyuu tomioka. i love him so much. giyuu is my baby and i adore him. so of course i wrote a sad fic focusing on him. well technically, the fic focuses on giyuu AND his relationships. SPOILERS for chapters 130 and 131 of the manga. focuses mostly on giyuu and sabito, but there’s a fair bit of giyuu and tanjiro and urokodaki. you can read it HERE bc this is also not on tumblr. also deals with heavy things but more emotion-wise since it doesnt have that much of a plot. loss. grief. moving on. survivors guilt. that kind of stuff. very sad. hurt but with comfort, especially at the end.
(Sanders Sides) Logan’s Birthday Fic: Logicality. just what the title says. i wrote 5 different fics and published them all on logans bday but the logicality one received the most feedback and honestly? the cutest of the bunch. its gonna be crossposted onto ao3 but for now, you can read it HERE on my ts sideblog. theres no plot since its literally just domestic and relationship fluff. and puns. patton is in the fic, theres gonna be puns. nothing but good things and warm feelings bc logan deserves it.
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thank you so much for such interesting asks anon! i enjoyed answering these. have a lovely day!
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I was tagged by @bro-stoevsky, a hero to the people!
Author Name:
skazka, because once upon a time I was horny for a fandom with a lot of hapless men in uniform and beefy men getting beat up, can you imagine? If you really want to fuck over your ability to find where your fic has been recced, pick a username that’s the name of several popular fanworks and also a common noun in an other language than English. If I had to change it, I don’t know what I’d change it to.
Fandoms You Write For:
All of them. I write for all the fandoms. Right now I’m squeezing the last drops of blood from The Terror s1, but I write a lot of small fandoms (especially for fests like Yuletide) and in the past wrote lots of Histories fic. I still love the Histories, but I succeeded in burning myself out by writing a lot during a hectic part of my life and I’ll need to basically rebuild how I write in order to move forward.
Where You Post:
I post fic here on Tumblr (seldom) and on AO3 -- I crossposted to fanfiction.net very rarely for a fandom with a strong presence there, but I hate the interface. I also write
Most Popular One-Shot:
“ties that bind, knots that fail”, a Victor Frankenstein/Ethan Chandler Penny Dreadful PWP that I honestly do not remember writing.
Most Popular Multi-Chapter Story:
10k of weird robot/human pining smarm and android repair for Prometheus fandom! If I were to write it all over again, I would change a lot, but first and foremost... each chapter being 1000 words is seriously dirty pool.
Favourite Story You Wrote:
This shit changes with the wind, but I really enjoyed writing “this is the hand”, a Choose Your Own Adventure-style fic for Black Mirror: Bandersnatch. I don’t normally play with structure, so this was an interesting challenge.
Story You Were Nervous to Post:
Everything that I’ve ever written, tbh.
How Do You Choose Your Titles:
Do You Outline:
Once upon a time I’d be like LOL NO but I guess I do? I have a notes document where I store title/summary/tag/warning info for most fics as they’re being written as well as relevant links and research documents, and if I’m writing something with a plot or some structure to it, I’ll usually outline the sequence of scenes or at least the major beats in there. My outlines are usually short on the beat-by-beat detail and long on the other stuff -- these screenshots of one for a Hickey/Goodsir fic in progress are pretty representative.
[...]
So I’m not exactly a detailed, comprehensive outliner here. My fic with the most detailed outline to date was probably the L.A. Confidential fic “forest in the desert” -- the fic which I wrote initially under the title “some dreamers of the golden dream”, which it’ll always be called in my head. I wrote a four-page outline not only of the plot beats I intended to include in my fic but the outline of canon events and where certain characters were at certain times. I don’t want to say I did jack shit to really confidently pin down the moving parts of the canon, but I actually tried, which is not typical for me. The spitballier stuff and resources went into another document i was using to keep track of titles pre-spreadsheet, and it was a lot of stuff like this:
(That small, too.)
Complete:
...like... how many fics are complete? I have 385 fics posted to AO3 on my main account; some of those might be in anonymous collections, I don’t know and I don’t bother checking. I probably have a few others floating around on sock accounts (given what I write on my main account, they’re not unusually dark or sexual or anything, they’re just self-indulgent) or posted on LJ/DW someplace and not backed up, but that’s the biggest chunk of them there on AO3.
In-Progress:
I don’t post many WIPs in the sense of multichapter fic, so nothing to report there, but I have 330 fics currently in the process of being cooked up -- maybe 50 of those actively at any given time, but 330 stories with a nonzero wordcount in my big spreadsheet o’ stuff.
Coming Soon/Not Yet Started:
[stares at Yuletide]
Do You Accept Prompts:
I do, but I also need to be open that some prompts can totally stump me, or a fic in response to a short and pithy prompt might sprawl totally out of control. I get a little bit of performance anxiety about producing the right content in response to other people’s prompts, but a lot of stuff I’ve written that I like the most has resulted from somebody else’s prompt. An anon once said something to the effect of “the difference between a good fic by skazka and a bad fic by skazka is whether or not they’re working from somebody else’s good prompt or just trying to wing it” and a) haha oof b) damn... they r right. Except that’s mean to people who wrote perfectly good prompts and just got my nonsense in return. The most benign way of reframing that is that I work better with some structure and something to hang my gross ideas on.
Upcoming Story You Are Most Excited to Write:
I’m not even kidding about how much I’m hyped for Yuletide. It’s basically small-fandom... well, I’d say Christmas, but it’s quite deliberately not Christmas, so it’s just my small fandom happy place.
Tagging:
@forthegothicheroine @cinemaocd @marypsue and anyone else who wants to participate!
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When you’re close to me
After the realization hit her, it was impossible for Astrid to look at him the same way anymore. (Aka being a teenager and having a crush on your best friend is the best set-up for prom night.)
[Part 1: Revelations] [Part 2: Chicken Dance] [Part 3: Night Owls]
(The quoted song is “Sway” by Blue October.)
Crossposted on ao3 and ff.net
Astrid didn’t know exactly when it started.
She remembered lunch in the cafeteria, trying to squeeze in some homework, and a slightly nasal laugh when the math equations didn’t make sense to her and she let that out in a menacing tirade under her breath. She remembered wondering why it had pleasantly filled her ears, why it had made her look up.
She remembered standing in the school’s hallway shortly after last period, students jostling around, a cacophony of girly laughter, loud testosterone-filled exclamations and the general buzz of conversation surrounding her. She remembered turning away from her locker, ready to head out, and catching a glimpse of auburn hair in the crowd. She remembered smiling and waiting for him to catch up to her so they could walk out together.
She remembered her smile growing at every new text, remembered her sudden awareness of how much fun it was to hang out together.
But most of all, she remembered that one Saturday before finals.
It had been a busy couple of weeks, crammed with last-minute papers and presentations, long nights filled with caffeine and frustration. She was nothing but an ambitious student, always determined to ace every test coming her way, to prove herself and excel in every subject. Astrid Hofferson had goals, and she’d do everything in her power to reach those goals. That meant a very rigorous studying schedule, no distractions allowed. That again involved not being able to see her friends outside of school. She had no time for smoothies and movies, for afternoons in the park, the cove or on Heather’s couch, and certainly no time for Hiccup Haddock. Which sucked, because he was her best friend – the best she’s ever had, if anyone asked her.
She had first met him in kindergarten, but never really had had anything to do with him. Only when they got paired up for a project in freshman year – the classic way of getting to know people you never talked to – and after the initial rounds of awkward silence, did she have a real conversation with him. Up to that point, she had thought they couldn’t be more different people and that she couldn’t be less interested in the person that was Hiccup Haddock. But when he mentioned his dog with a missing tail and she told him stories about the parakeet she’d had as a kid and the puppy she had recently adopted, the conversation just kept flowing. Not always smoothly, but that didn’t matter. She liked talking to him. She found out he had a strong passion for what he loved and what he thought was right. He deeply cared for the people in his life and would do anything for them. Besides, it turned out they shared a lot of interests, and that made becoming friends even easier. And being friends with Hiccup was just that – easy. It was as if they clicked on another level, able to read each other like a book. There was no one who Astrid rather spent time with. He always made her forget about her troubles, but unfortunately finals – and therefore studying – were her troubles at the time.
Astrid groaned and buried her face in her physics textbook. She was lying on her stomach on the ground in her room, every surface covered with binders, notepads, textbooks, post-its, and index cards – the aftermath of a whole Saturday morning filled to the brim with studying, right after a short few hours of sleep preceded by a Friday afternoon and night study session.
Her brain was overflowing with equations, bullet points, half-sentences and phrases that refused to fall into context. The more she read and reviewed the less sense everything made in her head. Astrid sighed. She needed a breather. Placing her textbook aside, careful so the post-its didn’t shift out of place, she reached for her phone. She lay on her back and, holding her phone above her face, skimmed through various group chats. They all basically said the same; people were either studying or procrastinating, asking for help in several subjects, and the overall vibe screamed for salvation in the form of finals to be over already or a distraction of any shape or form.
Astrid was just grinning at a few memes sent by the twins when her phone suddenly buzzed several times from incoming texts, prompting her to drop it on her face.
Hiccup [11:48am]: your brain melted yet? i think i’m seeing smoke signals coming from your house
Hiccup [11:48am]: or did you try to make lunch and the house is burning down
Hiccup [11:48am]: do i need to call 911
Hiccup [11:49am]: where are your parents
Hiccup [11:49am]: omg did you finally snap from all the studying and killed them?
Rubbing her aching nose where her phone had met her face a moment ago, she typed back.
Astrid [11:50am]: Who do you think I’m cooking? ;)
Hiccup answered with a series of shocked emojis. Astrid grinned and imagined him placing a hand on his chest, pseudo-shocked look on his face. She rolled back onto her stomach, eyes set to the little dots indicating he was typing.
Hiccup [11:51am]: tbh i’m not surprised
Hiccup [11:51am]: always knew it was just a matter of time until someone died at your hands
Hiccup [11:52am]: how did you do it? axe or feeding them your version of an edible meal?
She could easily picture him gesticulating, waving his hands around, never able to keep them still while talking. It was kind of charming.
Astrid [11:52am]: Axe, of course. My cooking might be basic, but it doesn’t kill people.
Hiccup [11:53am]: biggest
Hiccup [11:53am]: lie
Hiccup [11:53am]: ever
Hiccup [11:53am]: hofferson
Astrid was about to reply when another text came in.
Hiccup [11:54am]: HOLY SHIT IS THAT WHY YOUR STEW WAS SO BAD? WHERE YOUR NEIGHBORS IN IT???!!
She rolled her eyes. A few months ago, she had made dinner for her friends. She had tried to follow her mother’s recipe but with her own twists, wanted to create something new, something originally Astrid – and, apparently, had succeeded. Only that her friends were rather spitting it back out on their plates than praising her cooking skills. The only one who at least tried and gulped down a few spoonfuls was Hiccup, and she loved him for it, despite the following teasing she had to endure.
Astrid [11:55am]: Shut up, Hiccup. I’m trying to study here.
Hiccup [11:55am]: how’s that going
Hiccup [11:56am]: have you even eaten anything yet
Astrid sighed. At his mention of stew, her stomach had growled viciously. Aside from half a croissant early in the morning, she’d had nothing to eat yet. She’d been so absorbed in studying that she hadn’t even noticed her parents leaving for their shopping day. Just one more chapter, she told herself while reopening her textbook, then she’d look for something to eat in the kitchen.
She put her phone away, not giving Hiccup the chance to further tease her on the subject of food. She would never admit this to him, but he was right. Astrid didn’t know how to cook, no matter how many cookbooks and articles she read, no matter how often she tried even the simplest meals. She was a lost cause. This was the reason why her motivation to look for something edible wasn’t necessarily high. She knew for sure there were no leftovers, and the fridge was likely mostly empty anyway; her parents would buy groceries at the end of their day at the mall.
Forcing herself back to her textbook, she pushed the notion of food to the back of her mind. Soon she was buried deep in her notes, trying desperately to press new information into her brain. When she stared at an equation and the numbers and symbols started dancing all over the page, she groaned in frustration. She needed to know this stuff by next Friday, and there was still so much more to revise.
She got up and went to the bathroom, filling the sink with cold water which she then dunked her head in several times. But it was of no use, it wasn’t ice water, of course this wouldn’t work. The only thing it did was to make her aware of how thirsty she was. While towel-drying her hair, she trudged down the stairs to grab herself a bottle of water. A quick check of the fridge confirmed her suspicion that there was basically no real food in this house. She found a few crackers in the cupboard and resigned herself to her dry excuse of a lunch when she heard the bell ring.
Bag of crackers in hand, she went to open the door and was greeted by a pair of familiar green eyes and a lopsided smile.
“Hey,” Hiccup said. His hair was as tousled as always and she noticed he was wearing an old green sweater that he only dug out on lazy weekends. Astrid didn’t have to ask if he had opened a textbook at all today.
“Hiccup, you’re smart,” she said in lieu of a greeting. “How do I restart my brain?”
Following her into the house and stealing a few of her crackers, which earned him a ferocious glare, he shrugged. “That’s exactly why I’m here.” He threw a cracker in his mouth and nearly missed. “I read the smoke signals.”
Astrid gave him a punch on the arm. “That’s for wasting my last food ration. Now I’m going to starve!”
Rubbing his arm, he motioned his head toward his car that was parked outside. “Then let’s go get some food.”
She crossed her arms, empty bag crinkling in her hand. “I can’t. I have to study.”
“We both know you’re not going to come far like this. Come on, I know you need a break.”
Astrid sighed. They both knew he was right.
“And something to eat,” he added when her stomach chimed in on the discussion. “See? Now let’s go before you kill and eat me too.”
Astrid bit her lip. She knew he wasn’t going to drop this. And a short break from studying could surely recharge her concentration.
“Alright,” she gave in with a sigh and put the bag in the trash, grabbed her jacket and followed Hiccup back outside. “But I lied, I didn’t cook my parents. They’re out shopping.”
“In that case, I’m even more scared, in such proximity with you when you’ve clearly not yet let out your daily dose of violence.”
“It’s not violence,” she protested, “it’s communication!”
“If it is, people should even be more afraid of you. You have some strong opinions.”
Astrid grinned and shut the car door. “Hell yeah, I do.”
“So communicate with me then,” Hiccup said while turning onto the street. “What do you want to eat?”
“Anything that’s not a dry cracker.”
“Or stew.”
She punched his arm lightly and he glared at her. “I’m driving here, you insane muttonhead.”
“You’re the muttonhead,” she retorted brightly before plugging his stereo cable in her phone and selecting their special car playlist. The songs that made it in were a bunch of shared favorite songs, songs they listened to on longer car rides together, songs that had a special meaning to them, or songs that were some sort of inside joke between them. They referred to it as their car playlist, but Astrid thought of it only as her Hiccup playlist. Whenever she felt down, she listened to it, finding comfort in the memories it held and the promise of their friendship that came with it.
While the music blasted through the speakers, Hiccup hummed along.
“How did you know?” Astrid asked as he turned onto the main road.
“Hm?”
“That I needed a break from studying.”
Hiccup glanced at her before turning his eyes back on the road. “Like I said, I read the smoke signals from your brain. I call it,” he made a grand gesture with one arm, “Astrintuition.”
“That’s not a thing, you dork.”
“It is now, I just named it.”
Astrid looked out the window to hide her smile. Of course he knew. He knew that she would spend her entire weekend preparing for finals and that she’d prioritize that over everything else. That’s why he decided to come by and make sure she ate something and still saw the sun. A fond feeling spread in her chest.
They ended up at Pizza Hut where they shared their favorite pizza, a Cheesy Crust Chicken Supreme. Hiccup watched in awe as she devoured slice after slice and when he exclaimed that he was stuffed, she ate the rest of his half too. She might not look like it, he thought, but that girl could rival his father when it came to eating. Astrid was so busy with her pizza that she missed the affectionate look he gave her.
On the way back to her place, the sun came out. It hit Hiccup’s hair at just the right angle to create a fiery halo around his head. Astrid rolled down her window to enjoy the warm breeze.
When their playlist jumped to a loud and fast song, Hiccup amped up the volume. He and Astrid automatically started duetting, jerking their heads along to the fast parts and swaying in sync to the slower ones. It had taken them a lot of tries to finally get all the lyrics right in the proper pace, and even now one of them sometimes fell out, provoking a snort from the other while they spluttered to jump back in.
Astrid loved moments like these. It was her and Hiccup, a team, enjoying each other’s presence. When the song faded out, their last chuckle dying down with it, she propped up her elbow and leaned her head on her hand. She closed her eyes, felt the wind in her hair, on her skin. She smiled when she recognized the next song, her favorite from three summers ago. Silently mouthing the lyrics along, she got struck by a feeling of utter contentment, accompanied by a swelling in her chest while familiar, memory-laden streets around her where dipped in sunlight.
Forget about the trouble
Forget about the drama
Cause I ain't Casanova
Baby I can dance for days
This time with you
Is just amazing in so many ways
She looked over at Hiccup who slightly bobbed his head to the music, his eyes on the road, a small smile gracing his features, the sunlight dancing in his hair. She couldn’t stop looking at him. It was as if she was suddenly seeing him with new eyes. She felt a swoop in her stomach. In the light, she could make out slight stubble on his chin. His fringe and thick eyebrows cast shadows over his face. She had never really noticed how handsome he was.
Feeling a blush heat up her cheeks, she averted her eyes. Well, this is new, she thought.
For the rest of the day, she couldn’t really concentrate on anything and fell asleep much later than usual, confusion and strange new revelations keeping her awake until early in the morning.
From then on, she noticed the little things. The small touches that were suddenly too much, the glances, the dragged-out goodbyes, the increasing frequency of hugs that tended to linger a moment too long. She wondered why she had never noticed how green his eyes were, how much taller than her he had grown, or how broad his shoulders had become only in the last year.
Every day, she noticed it, noticed him more. And it only got worse over time.
When he looked at her, her heart skipped a beat or two. He invaded her thoughts regularly and often in the most inconvenient moments, like when she wanted to sleep or needed to pay attention during class. Astrid was in no way a sappy romantic. But every time the topic of love or romance was brought up even in the slightest, her mind wandered to Hiccup, much to her chagrin. They were friends. She didn’t want to ruin that with sudden, stupid feelings.
Eventually, she came to admit to herself that she had a crush on him (just a small one really, no big deal). It was when her grandmother asked for a nice photo of her and Astrid sorted through her pictures on her laptop. After an hour or so she suddenly noticed she had moved from looking at pictures of herself to staring at pictures of Hiccup instead.
It took her a while to come to terms with it, before she tried to block it out and hoped it went away on its own. When that didn’t work, she changed tactics. Going out with someone else would certainly help her forget about her crush. But whenever she tried to find a guy she’d go on a date with, the qualities she looked for in them were traits she associated with Hiccup. In comparison to him, everyone else quickly faded into the background.
By the time she gave up changing targets, she could no longer deny to herself that this crush was indeed not small at all. And her plan to not tell anyone so that it couldn’t become a bigger deal than it was – and it really was a big deal – failed spectacularly when Heather caught her staring at Hiccup from afar and asked her if she ever noticed how she wouldn’t shut up about him. Astrid tried denying it at first, but there was no fooling Heather.
“Hiccup this, Hiccup that. Astrid, you couldn’t be more obvious.”
Sometimes, though, Astrid was glad that Heather knew. She would do her all kinds of little favors, like “accidentally” forgetting something in her locker when the three of them were on their way to class, saving Hiccup a seat that happened to be right next to Astrid, or cancelling at the last minute when they decided to go to the movies so Astrid and Hiccup were to themselves. Although Astrid loved her for doing that, it didn’t help her frustration about her one-sided crush.
Heather, however, had a different opinion. She believed that Hiccup had feelings for her, too, based on the way he acted around Astrid. Despite her hopes that her friend was right, Astrid nevertheless argued that Hiccup had always been like that since the beginning of their friendship; Heather just hadn’t been there to see it since she’d come to their school later. Besides, Hiccup was the one always stressing that they were friends (best friends, but still just friends). Heather would just look at her like she was missing something obvious.
Time went on like this, with Heather always trying to nudge Hiccup and Astrid in the right direction and telling her to just talk to him or make a move herself. And it’s not like Astrid didn’t try. She gave Hiccup signals all the time, like shuffling closer and leaning against him while they were watching a movie, dropping comments here and there about the two of them together, touching him on the arm or chest or hand whenever she got the chance to – not that she minded at all – and even going out for ice cream on Valentine’s Day. But either he didn’t notice the signs, like the dork that he was, or he read them wrong. And there was still the possibility that he wasn’t into her at all – a notion Astrid hated but had to admit could be true.
Her frustration got especially bad when prom rolled around. While she normally wouldn’t even think twice about the ridiculous need to find a prom date that other girls seemed to have, a part of her still hoped Hiccup would ask her while she tried to work up the nerve to ask him herself. But whenever she opened her mouth to bring up the topic, she chickened out. If she asked him and he said no, she didn’t want that to affect their friendship, didn’t want to jeopardize whatever it was that made their whole dynamic so easy and comfortable. And it wasn’t like she needed a prom date to have a good time with him, anyway.
She kept going back and forth with her reasonings, caught between her idea of simply having fun with her friends without conforming to high school society norms, and the inevitable pull Hiccup had on her, creating her desire to be close to him, closer than she was now. And she just couldn’t find a solution.
Astrid was sitting in the cafeteria, picking at her vegetables, while she glared daggers at the girl who was currently talking to Hiccup on the other side of the room. The girl was tall, blonde and pretty, and she had her hand on his arm while she threw her hair back laughing at something he said.
“I know cafeteria food is awful, but even those peas don’t deserve what you’re doing to them,” Heather said next to her, watching as her friend tortured squashy peas and radiated jealousy like a miniature Chernobyl. When Astrid only grunted in response, Heather sighed. “Just ask him already. I don’t know how much longer I can take this unnecessary pining.” She snorted. “Or Snotlout.”
Astrid rolled her eyes. “Don’t remind me.” She’d been asked to prom nine times by now, eight of those by Snotlout (the other one by an overachieving freshman named Gustav).
She cut into her steak, pretending she wasn’t secretly watching Hiccup and that girl. Her plate made a horrible sound when she got through the steak and ran her knife over the cheap china. She and Heather cringed at the bloodcurdling noise and Astrid mumbled an apology.
When she looked up the next time, that girl was gone. Hiccup came towards their table with his food tray and sat down opposite them.
“That’s the fifth time this week that I’ve been asked to prom,” he said. “Is there some kind of prank going on?”
Astrid scowled. She only knew about three. “If there is, I’m going to kill the person responsible,” she mumbled and chewed on her steak. Hiccup frowned at her sour mood but didn’t comment on it.
“Hiccup, do you even know how popular you are?” Heather asked him. “And you’re an eyecatcher. Girls notice you.” Hiccup looked at her as if she’d grown a second head. “It’s true, just ask Astrid.”
Astrid almost choked on her (awful) steak and felt Hiccup’s eyes burning through the side of her face. “Yeah well, kind of,” she stammered, fighting the blush growing on her cheeks while she avoided his gaze, “I mean, everyone gets more handsome when they grow up, not specifically you, but everyone, you know, which doesn’t mean that you didn’t, I mean… You’re fine, I guess.” She shrugged and stuffed half her steak into her mouth so that she couldn’t start rambling again like that.
“What Astrid’s trying to say here is that I’m right.”
A quick glance told Astrid that Hiccup was still frowning at her weird behavior. “Are you alright?”
She gave him a strained smile and swallowed the ball of dry meat in her mouth. “I’m fine.” He didn’t seem convinced but didn’t question her further either. Instead, he went back to complaining.
“I just can’t catch a break from turning down prom invitations. Which I most certainly never thought I’d ever even have to do in the first place.”
Heather took from that that he’d immediately said no to all of them. A smile grew on her face as an idea crossed her mind. This was a perfect opportunity.
“Hey, why don’t you guys go together?” she asked, looking back and forth between Astrid and Hiccup. Both of them simultaneously started to protest.
“It’s not like that.”
“We’re not… It’s not…”
“We don’t date.”
“Yeah, that’d be weird, because we’re just–”
“We’re just friends.”
“Yes, exactly.”
They were both blushing pretty hard, avoiding each other’s gazes. Heather rolled her eyes.
“Then just go as friends. That means you,” she pointed at Hiccup, “will be left alone by all those girls, and you,” she pointed at Astrid, “will get Snotlout off your back.”
Astrid pondered that for a moment and came to the conclusion that she liked that thought. She and Hiccup shared a look.
“Alright,” he said and gave her a lopsided smile. “Wanna go to prom?”
She tried not to break into a wide smile while she felt the familiar tingle in her stomach. “Sure,” she shrugged and went back to eating her cafeteria food which suddenly didn’t taste so bad anymore. Hiccup did the same, suppressing a grin himself. Heather just shook her head at them and sighed. Hopeless dorks.
#hiccstrid#httyd#ff#fanfiction#fluff#modern au#high school#prom#crush fluff stuff#two chickens in love#this wasn't supposed to be so long#teenagers amirite#pining#my fic#maja writes
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He paused, and his wan smile froze over, and sharpened to a degree that would’ve had Maria’s hackles rising if he’d been anyone other than her boss, anyone other than the man who’d proved his innate...goodness went bone-deep time and time again.
I’m assuming this is for this askmeme, which is now closed.
This scene was 100% me trying to show the Merchant of Death through others’ eyes, and…I probably had a bit too much fun with it, tbh. Well, technically not, because TWiFFON’s just me combining self-indulgence with passive-aggressive spite, but still.
Just— when I first came up with it as a mostly-nebulous fic idea that was supposed to span like 5 chapters tops, I knew I wanted to feature the Merchant of Death the way we never saw him in canon. Even as the fic itself grew legs and ran away from me and I found myself doing god-knows-how-much accidental worldbuilding, it was with moments like these in mind.
I cannot overstate just how out of control writing this fic has gotten; when I did the outline for it, I’d been thinking, “…huh, I think I might be onto something! Maybe I should crosspost it to AO3, just for kicks”, which turned into “wait no, I’ll try to write what I want to read, sure, this fic idea’s only 6k so expanding it shouldn’t take too long, right?”
…as you can probably tell, especially in my early and incredibly optimistic estimate of it being 5, then 10 chapters. Only, then it turned out that I needed just a little more world-building for plausibility’s sake because of a pet peeve I had here, and a bit of infrastructure development there, and the rest is history.
Reason this comes up is, for a good chunk of that I found myself slogging through more than one arc, sometimes giving myself a headache trying to rationalize the writers’ decisions in the MCU in a way that vaguely made sense to me, and bullshitting international law like never before— because I needed to set the stage just right, for this.
The Civil War arc’s where the payoff for this is really starting to kick in, but I also wanted to show hints of the Merchant of Death early on.
Because this is one of the things I’m not about to let go— because one of my biggest pet peeves with the MCU is its incredibly short-term memory, and the way it focuses on the protagonists and explosions at the expense of the rest of the world. In this case, it’s plain to see that almost everyone forgot about the Merchant of Death, or never had to deal with him. I’ve done multiple posts about this before […mostly in stuff I’ve tagged as meta, though], but the short version is Tony prior to Afghanistan is a very, very different man to what the Avengers are used to.
The rest of the team’s used to seeing him either as Tony ‘Flashy Pain In The Ass’ Stark, or Iron Man— and so they think they’ve got him pegged as someone who’s useful to have in their corner, but not dangerous by any means.
Their mistake.
also this was also me venting even more than usual because I hated AoU with the passion of a thousand burning suns, because not only did the writers botch the Maximoff twins’ introduction to the MCU but they also had the team willingly turn on Tony so fast I almost got whiplash, and the way they acted during the Penthouse Incident actually marked the death knell of any hopes I had for the team ever being the way I’d ever hoped.
Because prior to AoU, I’d hoped IM3 was a one-off, in regards to how the team’d be treating Tony [what with literally everyone looking at his full-blown PTSD and being dismissive af about it]— but as it turns out, it wasn’t. Tony’s trauma only got compounded even as his support system got methodically chipped away, as canon progressed; so, really, writing this arc, where the Tony Stark Protection Squad is on point and headed by Pepper “The Red Hair’s a Warning Sign. Run’ Potts and managed by uncomfortably-close-to-Skynet!JARVIS, is the least I could do.
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