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greenmenace · 2 years
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Titanic X Octogoblin AU
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Chapter 1:
(Feel free to ask to be tagged in the next chapter! Thank you for reading and feedback is always appreciated! I hope you enjoy! :D)
April 10th 1912
“This way! All third class passengers must be lined up in the health inspection queue before they can board the ship! Ma’am, ma’am! Over here! This way please!” 
A health officer called out among the gigantic crowd of hundreds and hundreds of people across the dock, his own voice nearly drowned out by the amount of excited and busy voices in the air. The overflowing crowd of people gazed in awe towards the colossus of a ship floating in the harbour of Southampton, waving towards their loved ones that were also waving farewell upon the deck of the ship. 
The spectacular vessel that was named Titanic was not moving yet, but she had already proved herself to be the most magnificent ship of all. The biggest and grandest one that floated tall above the surface of the water below and above all the small people stood gazing at her majesty. 
She was the ship of dreams, practically royalty as her presence impressed all who took their first look at her. The ship seemed to stretch on and on by the dock, eight hundred and eighty two feet and nine inches long. She was a spectacle to look at and would certainly make a mark upon history itself.
Carriages full of first class luggage being pulled along by horses were trotting down the dock, making their slow path through tens of people and through the next, heading for the main terminal where cargo was being lifted and placed into the storage hold of the ship beneath the bow. Vans filled with bags of mail and parcels were attempting to safely drive through the thick crowd, constantly beeping at people constantly in the way.
“Big boat, isn’t she, Penny?” A father no more in his late thirties had asked with a bright smile to his nine year old daughter that was comfortable in his arms, clutching her doll as her curious eyes stared with fascination at the ship. They were patiently waiting to board and were in the third class queue, but at the same time they were enjoying the sight and were amazed by the scenery.
She turned her head to look at him as if he had told her a joke and giggled.
“Daddy, it’s a ship!” 
“You’re right.” He nodded, grinning as he planted an affectionate kiss onto her youthful chubby cheek, one that made her laugh even further. 
However her gleeful laughter was cut short as a sound of a car horn emerged into existence, startling her for a brief moment as she turned herself around and looked behind her father’s shoulder to see the source of the noise. 
Three very elegant and polished cars slowly made their way through the seemingly endless crowd, honking at them countless times so that the people wouldn’t get themselves accidentally run over and under the wheels. The cars shortly stopped in front of one of the boarding gangways connecting Titanic to her dock. 
The passenger door to the fashionable car opened, revealing a young man dressed in a finely fitted black suit with a silver grey waistcoat and a green patterned tie, with an emerald green overcoat and a dark brown walking cane in his black gloves to complete his pristine appearance. His sandy blonde hair was combed back neatly as his shining blue eyes marvelled at the ship nearby. His thin face was sharp, with high and almost pointy cheekbones to accompany his also soft pointed nose. And his narrow mouth was stretched into a mostly thrilled crooked grin as his eyes landed upon the sight of the Titanic.
Behind him stepped out his father who he resembled most of and seemed to be nearing his sixties rather fast. The older man was dressed in a black pinstripe suit with a black waistcoat with a black bowler hat on top of his faded blonde and greying hair. His own deeply blue eyes had no amount or trace of joy in them, clouded with intense disappointment as he looked over the ship that seemed to stretch for miles. His face was covered with thick wrinkles, especially with his eyebrows that were often creased with frustration and deep thought.
“So this is the ship they say is unsinkable then,” He commented as he adjusted his hat and glanced towards his young son who’s eyes examined every possible inch of the ship he could be able to see. “I still don’t see what the excitement is all about. The ship we sailed to here was no different to this one, Norman.”
The amazed smile upon Norman Osborn’s face quickly vanished as fast as it had come, revealing the amount of tiredness that he had been holding back for seemingly a while. 
“Father, it’s much bigger than the previous ocean liners we have sailed upon,” 
Norman attempted to convince his father, but most of him already knew that that was an impossible venture. His father did not share any of his likings and interests, and would definitely not be intrigued. “Grander than the Mauretainia. It’s the largest ship ever built. I hear the engines are especially state of the art.” 
“And the suites?” Amberson Osborn questioned, raising a pointed brow as he crossed his arms. “Luxurious I hope or you will never again have the luxury of having me listen to your suggestions again.”
Norman sighed with a nod. “Yes, father. I’ve studied every bit of the ship’s construction since we first arrived in Britain a month ago. I’m highly certain you’ll be comfortable. We’re in first class after all.” 
“Don’t speak the obvious son," His father shook his head and complained as his eyes flashed with the emotion of annoyance. “You know full well that I don’t enjoy that along with hearing you babble on and on about those tedious interests of yours.” 
The young man closed his eyes for a brief few seconds, keeping his composure in check as sending a rude remark towards Amberson was guaranteed to end badly.
“Of course, I’m sorry sir.” 
“Good. We’d better hurry then, I’d like for a hot cup of tea on board after all that travelling. Benjamin?” 
Another older man who had been chatting with one of the boarding officers turned to face Amberson who approached him. Benjamin was a former constable, but now loyally served as the Osborn’s personal bodyguard. Norman hadn’t enjoyed his presence the moment he was hired at all. It was as if he was an identical copy of his father, though only sharing most of the personality. Benjamin had a sour wrinkled face and bushy black eyebrows. His black hair that was streaked with grey strands was trimmed and parted neatly. He was dressed in a grey pinstripe suit with a white buttoned shirt and a brown bowtie around the collar.
“Sir?” 
Amberson pointed towards the large crates of baggage that were tied on the backs of the cars and tapped the wheel of the vehicle that he had exited earlier with his own jet black walking cane. “Ensure that the luggage makes it to my suite and ensure my car is lifted into storage. I’d hate to part ways with it.”
Benjamin nodded. “Yes, sir.” 
Amberson gestured towards the gangway board with the point of his cane expecting for his son to walk forward however he rolled his eyes with frustration when Norman did not seem to be moving as if he were frozen to the spot, but he was merely taking yet another look at the grand Titanic. Watching the smoke rising tall from each of the four smokestacks on the ship, the greyish black colliding with the blueness of the sky. The older man sighed with impatience as his gloved fingers quickly hooked around his son’s forearm tightly.
Norman slightly jumped with surprise at the sudden contact, his eyes quickly looking down at his father’s hand and then above to his mildly irritated face. 
“Come along, Norman. You wouldn’t want to be responsible for us missing the voyage back home to America, would you?” 
“No. I’m sorry.” His son shook his head. 
Amberson removed his grip and watched as Norman took one more quick look and proceeded to approach the gangway with his father following just behind him. 
“Right,” Benjamin tapped the boarding officer’s shoulder and brought out a slip of paper from the pocket of his coat. “These trunks from all three cars to the first class parlour suite rooms B-52, 54 and 56. And this car to be lifted and placed into the storage hold.”
Norman stepped upon the wooden gangway, holding onto the rail as he continued his way entering the ship. Within him, most of his enthusiasm for finally boarding the unsinkable ship was soon covered with confliction and dread with each step closer.
Dread for what had laid ahead of him waiting til the day where he would step back into America once again. Above all else, he was a perfectly raised gentleman thanks to his father’s great efforts, with everything he could possibly need. He was rich with an impossibly endless amount of money. 
But he felt as though he had no complete control of his life.
He was to be engaged to a woman as soon as he was back in New York, an arranged marriage to a complete stranger. All ordered by his father of course just like every single aspect of Norman’s life. And Norman had naturally no say in the matter. He was currently twenty two, and already Amberson was rushing him into the grabbing hands of marriage.
Norman was convinced that soon after he had gained a wife, his father would be pressuring him to have a child with her and God only knew what his father would do with a grandson or granddaughter.
It was terrifying. And Norman Osborn felt like he had wanted to scream out. To lash out at everything and at the invisible iron shackles that chained him to his father.
He knew nobody would listen to him though.
Stepping through the open passage leading into Titanic, Norman let out a breath that he didn’t realise that he was holding in.
A steward by the door greeted him with a wide smile. “Welcome to the Titanic, sir!” 
~
“---the engines are ahead of their time, Curt! Hopefully at some point during the trip back to America we’ll be allowed down into the engine room to take a look.”
Out of the crowd of thousands of faces of young and old, a taller young man appeared with three large brown suitcases in his hands. He was dressed in a long dark brown overcoat with a dark grey suit underneath, with a black tie on top of his neat white shirt. His chocolate brown hair on top of his head was curly despite his past attempts of fixing it. His dark brown eyes were wide with excitement and anticipation as he glanced behind him to look at his friend, though his eyes were hidden by black oval glasses.
Otto Octavius and Curt Connors slowly walked their path through the crowd, making sure they weren’t rudely bumping shoulders with people in their way as they drew closer and closer towards their destination, the Titanic. Otto held one of Curt’s suitcases with his own two ones as Curt unfortunately could only manage one as he had lost his right arm up to his elbow long ago.
Curt was dressed with a grey overcoat on his shoulders and a hazelnut brown suit with a lightish blue tie with a black bowler hat on top of his head completing his look, his face overpowered with excitement as he eagerly followed behind Otto. 
“My fingers are crossed!” Curt exclaimed with a shout so that the words of the crowd didn’t hinder his words. His feet had a slight joyful bounce as he walked. “I’ve been looking forward to finally boarding the ship on this very day!”
Otto turned his head back, sending an eager smile back towards his friend.
“So have I! I’ve been hearing every single person raving on about it for so long that it’s beginning to give me a headache!” Otto uttered with a chuckle, looking upwards to take a quick look at the Titanic that was becoming closer and closer. “A few minutes ago someone had told me that God himself couldn’t even sink the Titanic!”
The two momentarily halted in their tracks as a horse drawn carriage walked in front of their path, but they took the moment to quickly admire the ship. She was absolutely magnificent, like they were staring at a work of art on a canvas. Art that belonged in a museum! The sight didn’t seem real and yet there she floated gracefully in the harbour. Otto wanted to study the Titanic from top to bottom, wanting to see every inch of the ship and how the grand vessel was carefully constructed. 
“I think it’s this way to board the ship.” Curt gestured with a nod of his head, his eyes staring towards the second class gangways that people were walking upon. He momentarily turned to face Otto. “You have the tickets?”
Otto nodded. “Yes, they’re both in my pockets. Let’s hurry!” 
Quickening their pace, Otto and Curt carefully continued moving closer, being patient for other passengers in front to board the ship before they could. Otto made sure Curt was in front, aiding him up the steps as they began to walk on top of the gangway. The levels of excitement continued to grow with each second, and Otto’s smile seemed that it could last forever. He looked up and the Titanic was a giant. It was so much taller than he expected!
From his and Curt’s position down below, the ship was towering over everything in the world, it even looked like it reached the very sky where the fluffy white and silver clouds would weightlessly float. 
“Tickets please, you two?”
Snapping back into focus from being so immersed with the impressive height of Titanic, Otto carefully placed his suitcases along with Curt’s one on the floor of the Titanic when they had both entered a moment ago, he brought out his and his friend’s tickets from the pocket of his overcoat and gave it to the steward for him to check. The man quickly looked over both tickets, being sure that they were in fact the correct tickets which was quite obvious that they were.
“That all seems well, welcome on board to the Titanic, gentlemen!” 
The steward smiled after he had quickly examined both tickets, allowing the two to go on forward. 
After passing their thanks to the kind man, Otto and Curt had begun to make their way down the staircases and into the hallway of the second class staterooms where one of them would be occupied by the two.
The fresh paint and the sweet cleanliness of the carpet nearly overwhelmed the sense of smell in Otto’s and Curt’s noses as they headed down D-Deck, walking past rooms and politely greeting other second class passengers on their way. The baggage in the men’s arms were beginning to make their shoulders ache, so they hurried as fast as they could to eventually rid the weight. The white corridors were polished, almost seeming to belong to a royal castle instead of an ocean liner. And the carpet floor was beautifully patterned. 
The corridor was warmly lit, inviting a sense of homeliness and comfort into the air as Otto and Curt walked down, briefly looking upon the numbers on top of the doors.
“D-53…D-53…” Otto muttered as his eyes looked at one door and then to the next. His brown eyes widened with accomplishment as his view finally landed upon the cabin that he and Curt was to be sharing. “Here it is at last!”
“Finally!” Curt smiled as Otto opened the door, the two happily entered the room. Sighing with delight as they both carefully placed their heavy luggage upon the floor. “I think I’m about ready to fall asleep.” Curt chuckled, rubbing the back of his aching neck.
Otto laughed in response, examining the room’s contents. It was a small cabin, a bit bigger and greater than the third class accommodations down below. There was a comfortable bunk bed in the corner of the room, the sheets neatly placed upon both beds and radiated with the smell of freshness. A chestnut dressing table with a wash basin along with a mirror was nearby. In front of the bunk was a luxurious velvet patterned sofa to which Curt placed his baggage on top. 
“Not too bad, isn’t it?” Otto inquired curiously, feeling very satisfied with the room already even though he hadn’t even spent an hour in it yet. He hoped the bunk was comfortable!
Curt smiled, sitting down on top of the bottom bunk as he did a quick look around the room with his pleased eyes. “Yes, it has exceeded my expectations, that's for sure.”
“Don’t you want the top bunk?” 
“No, I’m all too happy taking the bottom. I think I may actually take a nap."
"I don't blame you for that," Otto yawned, moving his fingers through his unruly curly hair as he then stretched his arms. "All that moving about with the bags since this morning has made me completely tired." 
Curt chuckled with another yawn, before removing his suit jacket and folding it neatly upon the foot of his bed with his bowler hat laying on top. He then took off his shoes and left them on the floor as he raised his legs and laid completely upon his bed. He was out like a light in a matter of a minute with a light snore.
Otto smiled with amusement before unlocking one of his heavy bags, he took off his glasses and placed them upon the nearby dressing table as he began to unpack his clothes. 
He was becoming more and more excited for the day where he and Curt would arrive in New York. A fresh start and a new life! There would be more and more opportunities to be discovered with science and Otto was absolutely exhilarated with that fact. Though a tiny part of him felt as though there was something missing in his life. Something that would feel as though it would add to it. He had no idea what it was or could be. He wasn’t really eager to find out but the feeling was curious nonetheless.
Underneath his clothes were a couple books relating to his passionate interest in science, books of physics and mathematical and scientific equations. Otto would have to find time to read them later, as he had unpacking to sort out.
“This is the main promenade deck.” 
A male servant in his mid thirties informed Amberson who took a quick look out of one of the windows, observing the blue sky for the briefest moment. His wrinkled face was still full of disinterest as his eyes looked around the private deck. The white walls were panelled with dark wood, and there was a double set of doors that would connect to the main deck area where other passengers would socialise, which was near to the door that was connecting the suite to the promenade deck. 
Sun loungers, small tables and potted plants decorated the deck, serving to provide a natural and comforting look. The warm sun shone through the windows where Amberson stood nearby.
“Would you be requiring anything else, sir?” 
Amberson grunted and brushed him off in response, gently leaning to poke his head out from the window. “No, Bernard.”
The servant bowed in response with a nod, before heading off back into the suite where Norman was busying himself along with his maid in the main living room. There was a regal fireplace nearby, though no actual logs where they were supposed to be. Instead in its place was a heater that was not switched on as there was no need. The wood panelled walls were decorated with gold decorating every panel like little ribbons. 
The carpet was cream and fluffy, with armchairs and loveseats sitting across the room. And a table with cutlery and pristine clean dishes that had never been used once before. 
Norman opened one large suitcase that sat on top of the sofa cushions which nearly took up the whole space upon the sofa, revealing a few artistic, unusual and a colourful collection of masks that were carefully packed inside. His mood quickly lightened as he gently picked up one of the three that were inside, a mask that resembled a witch in some way. It was white and painted with golden stripes with popping eyes. It had an outstretched nose and sharp teeth with a pointing tongue. 
As much as he didn’t enjoy the luxury of having an amount of money that was bound to keep in this position for the rest of his life, there was one good thing that came from having money like that. He was able to have the ability to buy such lovely artefacts. The only vivid colour in his life at the moment. 
“Would you like all of them out, sir?” The maid asked as she examined the masks curiously.
Norman nodded, approaching the fireplace to place the mask upon the mantle in front of the mirror. “Yes, I think this room needs a bit of colour in it anyway. It’s too dull here. Too much brown to stare at.”
He then returned to his suitcase, leaning down to retrieve another. The next one was a vivid green, with another pointed nose and chin. It was widely grinning with sharped silver painted teeth. Its eyes were large and golden yellow and its ears were high just like its skull that was raised. The wooden mask was well aged, with part of the green paint being scratched off and damaged over time. Norman smiled, temporarily leaving the green mask on top of the table as he went to put out another mask on top of the fireplace.
The next one mostly resembled a gorilla in some way, around its black eyes were red with yellow highlights, and all around his face and upper lip were decorated with golden stripes.
“Good God, not those hideous masks again,” Norman heard a disgusted sneer from behind him and he glanced towards the sound of the familiar voice for a moment to see his father unsurprisingly leaning against the doorframe, sipping on his steaming cup of tea. “They really were a waste of money, son.”
Norman quickly rolled his eyes in response, thankful that his back was turned to Amberson.
“As I’ve explained many times, they’re fascinating to study. Not that you even cared about my opinions to begin with.” Norman replied, knowing that his father was very likely to be glaring at him right now, however he couldn’t care of the other’s anger right now. It didn’t matter anymore.
“If I might ask, what are these masks?” The maid curiously inquired, to which Norman was too pleased to answer as he never really got the chance to eagerly talk about his interests to anybody. Every time he had wanted to was quickly shut down by Amberson who firmly told him that would never be an interesting topic to discuss at all.
“They’re tribal masks from all around the world,” He answered with a small smile as he adjusted one of them on the fireplace and then turned around to retrieve the green one that he had left earlier. “I enjoy collecting them, I suppose it’s my hobby. This one is my personal favourite, it’ll go in my quarters.”
Norman picked up the wooden green mask and headed into his room with the maid following behind him with one of his suitcases in her hand.
His bedroom was big, a little smaller than the sitting room but still spacious and pleasant. The walls were still brown but instead of the gold decorations, the panels had large red patterned squares that were lined gold on the outside. There was a snug double bed in the corner of the room. The bedsheets were white and finely pressed and the four pillows at the head of the bed were large and fluffy. The bed frame was a dark wood and seemed as though it was reserved for royalty. In the centre of the room was a small deep brown table with two wooden chairs tucked in. Empty tea cups were sitting on top with cream napkins neatly folded. 
A door nearby opened to Norman’s own personal walk-in wardrobe, where he would later be placing his clothes inside with the help of either the maid or Bernard. He always preferred to be busy with normal duties rather than wasting more extended time that he did not enjoy by being in the company of his father. Norman didn’t care if the maids and servants could easily handle the task, he didn’t mind doing it himself.
In front of the bed was a writing desk, with a golden lamp placed on top. Norman proceeded to approach the desk, and gently set the green mask upon its surface. Upon adjusting it and making sure that it was angled nicely, Norman stood there as his eyes turned to the floor for a moment, his head clouded with deep thoughts. The maid placed his suitcase down on the floor next to the bed and turned to him, a confused expression across her kindly face.
She wondered whether to approach him or not for a few seconds, and then she walked up to him and quietly cleared her throat.
“Sir?” 
Norman blinked, shaking his head as if he felt a cold chill running down his spine. 
“Are you feeling well?” She asked, gently holding onto his left shoulder with a worried gaze.
He nodded with another tired sigh, his right hand rubbing across his pounding forehead. For weeks on weeks, Amberson had been dragging him practically by the back of his neck to every little business trip he had arranged. And to every little pathetic party which Norman had pretended to enjoy for so long. It seemed never ending, the work meetings and the little meaningless parties. All of it expressed nothing, it accomplished nothing. 
Of course, he could always decline the invites to the parties in the late night but that would result in yet another heavy argument and a vicious judging expression from his father.
“Yes,” Norman forced himself to answer, with yet another forced smile upon his face. “Just tired, that's all.”
“Can I get you anything?”
“No, no I’m okay. I suppose a cup of coffee would be nice though, Maggie. Thank you.”
The maid smiled and nodded her head, exiting the room as Norman’s smile faded away. He brushed off a speck of dust from the mask in front of him and then moved over to his suitcase on the floor where Maggie had placed it. Norman removed his emerald green overcoat and folded it over the bed. He then kneeled down and opened the trunk and began to unpack his clothing. 
He had then heard footsteps entering the room, just stopping in the doorway. Norman could easily guess correctly that the steps had belonged to his father. He didn’t know how or when he was able to identify Amberson’s footsteps, though Norman didn’t really care to figure that out. 
“Tomorrow night we will be joining John Jacob Astor and his splendid wife for dinner along with the rest of first class,” Amberson informed his son, removing his gloves from his hands and shoving them into his suit pocket. “They’re quite eager to be enlightened about your future proposal when we arrive in New York. They’ll certainly be receiving an invitation to the wedding, I’m sure.”
Norman’s fingers froze over one of his black waistcoats that he was pulling out from the suitcase, and his eyes closed though thankfully he had his back turned to his father.
“Must I come? You enjoy briefing people about it more than I do, father.” He asked, shaking his head as he opened his eyes. He knew that would probably make his father displeased, just like the many past attempts of asking.
“Do you intend for only one guest to show up for your betrothal to your future bride? I never taught you to be so rude and selfish, Norman.” Amberson spat, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe. He seemed to be so polite and well-mannered in public, but whenever he was alone with his son, his true colours began to shine as bright as the sun. 
“You will be joining me, or else I will not be too happy with your misbehaviour and you can be sure that I will be quickly correcting it. You are aware of that, I’m certain.”
Norman nodded, recalling a past moment of his face burning with pain from Amberson’s hand connecting with it. The sickening feeling of the air being kicked out of his lungs. The brutal black and yellow bruises across his ribs which he would discover during the next morning. He knew how violent Amberson could immediately become in a matter of seconds, but Norman had grown used to it over time. Not even flinching when his face would be slapped or punched.
“Yes. My apologies for being rude and selfish,” Norman automatically replied. “I’ll attend tomorrow night. 
“Good. Excuse me.” Amberson spoke carelessly, exiting the room and leaving a mildly ominous wake of air behind his footsteps. 
Norman hung his head over his suitcase, what did it matter anymore? Nothing in his life had been proved to be worth living over. Not one single person cared about him, other than Amberson who Norman wasn’t really certain if his father even did in the first place.
Upon the thoughts, Norman’s eyes slightly widened as a dark endless pit sunk right into his stomach.
Did Norman’s life matter one bit at all to his father?
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ladydorian · 6 months
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yeehawpim · 7 months
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a comic about fix-it fanfics
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noelledeltarune · 6 months
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EVERY SINGLE DAY there are MILLIONS of characters in their late 20s who get falsely accused of being father figures to teenagers when in reality the description of "weird older cousin" or "step-sibling that moved out before you were born" is 1000000x more apt
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whatsnewalycat · 2 months
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Made this for u 💝
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chic-beyond-the-wall · 3 months
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More medieval dyes for y'all!
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jackwolfes · 2 months
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thinking about that post of people assuming ao3 has an algorithm and also about how bonkers persistent the view is that ao3 is social media lite. like with startling regularity I get comments saying something along the lines of "it's probably weird to comment on a fic this old--" no it isn't!!!! this is an archive I am literally just assuming you searched for a selection of specific tags or sorted by kudos or looked back on my pseud or any other number of completely normal ways to use an archive site ?? kill the tiktok ghost in your brain and comment on old stuff it's NOT weird
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bamsara · 3 months
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"youve already written that trope" yesss. i like it a lots. i will be writing it again. 1000 stories of the same trope over and over again for ten million years
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shaftking · 9 months
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Ao3 is actually massively culturally important and very very good at being what it is. I’m so serious when I say that ao3 needs to be protected as the anti censorship, by fans for fans, nonprofit, volunteer run, expertly designed archival site that it is. You don’t have to read or like fanfiction to understand that on principle, ao3 is a site that should be defended.
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ao3-anonymous · 6 months
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What in the fanfic hell is this?? 😂😂
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greenmenace · 2 years
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Octogoblin Titanic AU:
In which wealthy first class passenger Norman Osborn crosses paths and eventually falls in love with second class passenger Otto Octavius aboard the R.M.S. Titanic on her first maiden voyage which tragically turns out to be her last.
So I got very inspired by @emilynightshade89 's lovely Octogoblin AU that I recently read through for probably the tenth time (seriously so good!), and I remembered wanting to make a Titanic AU for our science boys, so here it is! I'm still working on it at the moment but I'll reblog this post when there are updates and chapters! :D
- CHAPTER ONE
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toointojoelmiller · 5 months
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better than drugs
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pixiemage · 6 months
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Please, for the love of god, please don’t be this person. No matter how long it’s been since an update, no matter how many unfinished stories are sitting on their account, no matter what - do not be this person.
Not only is it insanely rude, but you also do more damage than you think be being such a self-entitled ass about something someone created for free and for fun. “This author” can see what you say.
RIP decency indeed.
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shining-just-4-u · 4 months
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u ever read a fanfic so good that you want. fanfic of the fanfic
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majoringinsarcasm · 3 months
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DONT BE AFRAID TO COMMENT ON OLD FICS DONT BE AFRAID TO COMMENT ON FICS IN A FANDOM THE AUTHOR MAY NO LONGER BE ACTIVE IN. IF THE STORY IS STILL UP LET THEM KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS IT MIGHT JUST BE THE REMINDER THAT MAKES THEIR DAY.
SINCERELY SOMEONE WHO JUST GOT A REPLY THAT MADE ME WANNA MAKE THIS POST
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blackheartbiohazards · 3 months
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🔹 Someone else's fiction cannot cause you physical harm.
🔹If someone else's fiction is causing you emotional or psychological harm, or distress, you can put it down and not read/watch it.
🔹Your emotional well-being is not the responsibility of fiction writers.
🔹Someone else's fiction is not about your personal trauma.
🔹When reading or watching fiction, you always have the power. You can always stop. You are never reading fiction without your own consent.
🔹Fiction writers are not responsible for other people's mental health.
🔹The content of a piece of fiction does not reflect on the morality of its author.
🔹Just because someone writes about bad things happening, doesn't mean they want those things to happen.
🔹Don't like? Don't read.
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