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#i came to it via fanfic first
intermundia · 2 years
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you've probably mentioned this before but what was the very first scene that made you start shipping obikin?
It’s kinda funny, I was going back through my ao3 history in order to see how many times I read a particular story (With a Warm and Tender Hand by @temple-mistress, and the answer was 15 times), and I was able to watch my progression into obikin in real time. The basic timeline was first reading mostly gen fic about the prequel era, becoming very attached to Obi-Wan in particular, and then started reading fic with obikin in it, because I’d essentially run out of other gen Obi-Wan. Eventually Anakin became really the only one who I thought it made sense that Obi-Wan would break his vows for, and I never went back to other fic and other ships. Reading obikin fic is the thing that got me to watch the Clone Wars, and that sealed the deal (“two steps forward and you’d actually be kissing it,” or whatever), but I already shipped it before I began.
I can clearly identify however the moment obikin crossed from being a normal ship I casually enjoyed reading fic about, to being an obsession that would take over my life. I saw an author who iirc at the time had an ao3 profile pic of that incredible piece of art of Obi-Wan and Anakin as Achilles and Patroclus. Seeing it made something go “click” in my brain haha. This added on to the masterwork of obikin classical inspiration which is the about loving, and then letting go series by @heathened, which inspired my first fic ever, Symposium, by guiding me to how similar Anakin is to Alcibiades and Obi-Wan is to the Socrates described in Plato’s Symposium. That was the end for me hahaha the next two years of my life would be all obikin brainrot 😂
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rolanslide · 3 months
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by "first fanfiction site" I mean the website that the first fanfiction you ever read was hosted/where you first saw it (or alternatively the first place you posted fanfiction to)
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red-riding-wood · 2 months
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PSA - Community Predator
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Over a series of months, myself and other Tumblr users -- fic writers, gif makers, fans of created content -- have been victimised by @mrkdvidal1989, who has extensively lied about who he is, preyed on multiple women and denied involvement -- therefore ruining friendships, reputations and feelings, and promised me life-saving medical treatment that he never followed through on.
More information including mine and their stories under the cut.
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The reason I am going public with this is twofold:
A) To protect others from being hurt. He is known to reach out to many tumblr users, especially young women in the Cillian Murphy fandom -- but he may have a wider reach beyond this circle. B) Since his "disappearance" three weeks ago and the unravelling of his lies, this man has ruined my life and the only hope I had of obtaining treatment for a condition that has been plaguing me for four years.
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Killian Vidal is the name he has chosen to give us, and has claimed to be both a officer commander and general in the mobility troop in the SAS (the general rank does not even exist), has beaten cancer a while ago (but said to another mutual that his "time was running out" and he is currently struggling with it), and a plethora of other life experiences and general knowledge about him that varies in consistency when talking to different people and is questionable in its validity. He has also shared pictures of "himself" that when reverse image searched, belong to different people.
I got to know Kill when he reblogged one of my fanfics (as the story seems to start with a lot of his victims) and he reached out via DMs. We quickly became close friends who called nearly every day on Discord and when I told him about my health issues, he immediately offered to pay for my medical treatment wherever I could find willing doctors.
I was hesitant to believe this at first since all of this seemed too good to be true (and was). He claimed to be very wealthy, enough to afford private jets like it was nothing and to rent me an apartment in the UK in the same building as him. Over time, I grew to trust him because he felt like such a genuine person and friend, which was made all the more believable by the fact that he has such a huge following on Tumblr and was, at the time, part of a vast social network of fans and friends (one of which he even claimed to know IRL -- who will remain anonymous unless they decide to speak out). I decided to ignore the little red flags because I was so desperate to receive this treatment that for me would be life-saving.
For four years, I have been plagued by an array of (mostly) undiagnosed digestive issues that have made my life almost unbearable and have on numerous occasions nearly killed me due to malnutrition. I've spent months in hospital, endured years of malpractice and misdiagnoses, undergone heart surgery, and have tried absolutely everything I can to get better. In the winter of 2023, I was told by my doctor that I was refused in the TPN program (a treatment that may have slowed or stopped my weight loss) and that with or without it, I was looking at mortality. Refusing to stop fighting but having exhausted the public health care system in Canada, I went into 2024 not really having much hope of anything anymore.
So, when Kill came along, that changed. He promised -- and I mean, from the bottom of his heart, promised -- that he would help me get treatment, that he would get me out of my abusive home and fly me to the UK, that he would be there for me as my friend, etc. I was beyond grateful, and as my trust with him built, so did my hope.
The travel plans kept getting put off; originally, he would fly me out as soon as the apartment became available, which was the 11th of Feb, 2024. He kept finding excuses to not book the jet. Finally, it seemed as if around the 15th/16th I would be flying. My health had been declining rapidly and the situation was becoming all the more urgent, and he said he was in contact with a pilot and would send the ticket soon and call me.
That was the last I heard from him. The 16th.
Initially thinking he had ended his life (he had discussed thoughts of suicide with me prior to this), I was beside myself with worry not only thinking one of my closest friends was gone but also that my chance at life was. I reached out to his other friends, and I made several calls to the UK authorities and emergency services and ended up requesting a welfare check be made to see if he was even alive.
They reported that no one under the name Killian Vidal was in the records of the building name he gave me -- the same building that I was meant to live in within that week.
After reaching out to my now beloved friend @kittenonpluto (A.K.A., Cas) on Tumblr, I learned that Kill was in fact alive, and had told her that he was in hospital for digestive issues in Indianopolis, United States (though again, no record of his name in their medical system). He still wouldn't talk to me, but told her to tell me that he would reach out when he was out of hospital.
Cas and I compared information he'd told us (her story will be attached to this post) and looked into the mystery more. He constantly dodged confrontation and questions about the fake photos and information he'd sent her, and seemed to use his completely fabricated hospitalisation as an excuse to not fulfil his promises to myself and her, as well as a means to garner sympathy.
It was quite obvious that he didn't know how the American medical system worked, and he even incorporated elements of my actual story and used them in his. When asked about his treatments, he responded with medically false information. He reported digestive issues, reflux, and having both an NG tube and TPN -- both of which I have experience with -- and let me say, I am beyond disgusted and infuriated that my real life trauma was used as a ploy in all this.
How do we know for a fact this is false? I checked the police case for his welfare check again, and they said that they confirmed him being in the UK at the same time he had told Cas he was in hospital in the States.
After a final confrontation from both Cas and myself (and a desperate final plea for the medical aid he promised me), he was never heard from again from either of us or our friend circles.
I'm now having to pick up the pieces he's left me in and to be honest, I have little to no idea of what the hell to do or how to save myself. The fact that he strung me along for a month and built up my hope that I was going to live only to abandon me without even a word is deplorable to me.
And mine isn't the only story. I've heard from four women on Tumblr (who, again, will remain anonymous unless they choose to speak out) who he has been romantic or sexually involved with (and lied about his involvement, made them out to seem insane or toxic, created rifts in our friendships, toyed with their emotions, and made false promises to of relationships, marriage, and finances).
And that's not including the ex-wife who came back to Tumblr to claim that her and Kill had never met nor married. She was promptly silenced by a "lawyer threat" that we have strong reason to believe was a bluff.
At the end of the day, there are so many lies, half-truths, inconsistencies, etc. this man has wrapped himself in and we don't know for the life of us what his motives are, but from the information that we do know is false, he isn't genuine. He toys with people. He hurts them. Myself and the others that have been affected by this want that to stop.
And at any point, he has the ability to make a new account, and take on a new persona, pretend to be someone else. Tumblr is a wonderful place and I have met so many cool people on here, but please be careful about who you interact with and what you share, because aside from making this post, it is beyond my power to stop him from doing what he does. But after what he did to me, I could not remain silent.
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Other Stories
If you have an experience or story with Killian that you would like heard, please reblog it on this thread or make a post. With your consent, I can include a link to it below.
kittenonpluto's story
aurorag98's story
everyoneisawhore's story
your-nanas-house's story
hllywdwhre's story
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Final Note
Lastly, if you have read this far, thank you.
If you want to reach out to me about this issue -- whether it's to anonymously share your experience, ask questions, ask for evidence (of which I can back up these statements with), or anything at all --, please do not hesitate to do so. <3
For those who may be worried about the potential legality of this post, everything that I have stated as fact is fact and it is not my intention to slander or spread false information.
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incorrectbatfam · 3 months
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Types of obnoxious batfam stans
Written by an obnoxious batfam stan
Not really a rant but something I've noticed over the years interacting in different spaces and I've decided to make your problem now.
Please note that I'm not saying there's any "right" way to be a fan because we all suck by virtue of being comic nerds, but there are certain kinds of batfamily fans that stick out to be in particular.
Anywho, here are 12 kinds of annoying batfam stans that you've probably run into and you better get a laugh out of it *points gun to your head*.
1) The Newbies Who Never Heard of Google
There's no shame in being new to something. It's a phase that we're all guaranteed to go through, whether we're 11 or 101. However, in this day and age, so many things can be easily googled that you don't need to shout every question you have into the VVorld VVide VVoid. If you need comic recs or a reading list, google it. If you wanna know a character's origin story, google it. If you need to know the color of Batman's underpants in a particular issue in 1965... well that's probably too specific for Google but Reddit will definitely have an answer.
2) The Middle School Authors
Before the 13-year-olds get up in my notes, I'm not saying everyone that age writes like this. Middle school is a state of mind. These fanfic writers usually stand out in a few ways.
They're oftentimes first-person POV or reader-insert. Give Y/N a break, she's tired.
The grammar is stunningly atrocious. I get if you're inexperienced or if you're writing in a second language, but we are in the prime era of autocorrect. If you need help, it's right there. Also, fuck c*nsoring b*d w*rds and fuck "unalive."
The characters do things that are out-of-character because the author is projecting their own personality. Bruce Wayne is a lot of things but he does not listen to the fucking Mountain Goats.
There's a lack of experience or research when it comes to certain topics. That's not how physics works. He can't walk that injury off. And that's definitely NOT how you do the horizontal hokey pokey.
3) The Neckbeards
Unfortunately, these basement-dwelling mouth-breathers tainted the image of what a comic fan is, though that's been changing recently. Still, we've all seen them. They gatekeep via pop quizzes, 'cause obviously you're not a real fan unless you know what page 10 of Batman #138 smells like. They give unsolicited commentary on people's cosplays, nitpicking the guys and being gross toward women. And heaven forbid the comics add a little diversity.
4) The Moviegoers
Nothing inherently wrong with getting into the fandom via the movies, nor is there anything wrong with sticking to that. I just feel like we're two different species of Galapagos finches, you know?
5) The Christopher Nolans
Separate from casual fans of the Nolan movies. I'm calling them the Christopher Nolans because these people have a tendency to reach for the grimdarkest thing possible. It's like they cannot fathom Batman having any other emotions besides punching and gargoyle brooding.
6) The Canon Purists
Wanna share a fun headcanon? NO, because Stephanie Brown never used cherry lip balm in the comics so therefore that must be the absolute truth. These people are a stickler for comic accuracy to the point where it's like... why bother interacting with the fandom in the first place? The worst part is when they're adamant on following a single continuity and refuse to consider anything else. This is comics we're talking about. Everything either has been or will be canon at some point.
7) The Fanon Worshippers
On the opposite end of the spectrum, we have the people who base their entire perception of the characters on something either they pulled out of their ass or that their mutual with 16 followers came up with, despite evidence directly contradicting it. I love WFA, but I feel like that's partially responsible for further perpetuating certain popular myths. Also, these fans tend to focus solely on the batfam/their ships. It's one thing to have some people in the foreground vs. background, but put some respect to Bart Allen's name you goddamn cheesecakes.
8) The Golden Age Dads
These guys aren't really obnoxious. I actually find it kind of cute how they think Jason Todd is still dead.
9) The Chronically Online
I have a rule of thumb when it comes to discourse: if it's not something I'd hear about at a bar, it's not worth my mental energy. Some people haven't gotten the memo, though.
These are either the well-intentioned but misinformed teenagers or grown-ass adults beefing with children because they don't have a life. They have takes that are oversimplified, rage-inducing, TikTok algorithm attention-grabbers that no one cares about in real life.
Don't get me wrong, we've got a bunch of issues in comics and fandom that are worth discussing. However, there comes a point where you're splitting hairs and need to go the fuck outside. I'm not gonna link the post 'cause I don't wanna call them and their 7 notes out, but the other week I saw someone saying Stephcass was a racist ship because something something colonialism parallel. You gotta be Elastigirl to have that kind of reach.
10) The Corporate Simps
I love comics. I appreciate the writers and artists. However, you will find my carcass in a ditch before you catch me licking the boots of DC/Warner Bros. Basically, these fans, fewer as they are, can't seem to fathom that their favorite franchise can (and does) put out some steaming motherfucking garbage.
11) The Hot Cosplayers
Not actually annoyed, I'm just a little jealous. Stop being hotter than me, please and thank you.
12) The One With A Punchline For Everything
Wait–
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emjayewrites · 2 months
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Private Landing (Lewis Hamilton Fanfic)(4/?)
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SUMMARY: In the high-speed world of Formula One, Lewis Hamilton subtly introduces a mysterious partner via Instagram after a slight mishap during an interview. Sparking media intrigue, everyone wants to know: who is the enigmatic figure that calls herself Mrs. Hamilton?
INSPO: this post
PAIRINGS: Sir Lewis Hamilton x Aurora "Rorie" Phillips-Hamilton (faceclaim is Justine Skye)
WARNINGS: drama, angst, sexual content, formula one b.s., pre-established relationship (with flashbacks). RATED M (18+)
TAGLIST: @queenshikongo3 @cocobutterqwueen @httpsserene @mauvecherie-writes @galatially @pausmoon @a-moment-captured @nikki01234 @yeea-nah @sirlew44 @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @weetjy @lewisroscoelove @hxneyclouds @questionable-behaviour @marzzrambles @lovebittenbyevans @tian-monique @alika-4466 @saintslewis @cherry2stems @mitruscity @burberryfilms @planetmimi @woderfulkawaii @d3kstar @liamundi @trinitoldyouso @scorpiobleue @pharaohanubis0 @certifiedlesbianbaddie @blveeeeeee @sugardontbesweet @omgsuperstarg @bluesole16 @serpenttines-library @peyiswriting @royallyprincesslilly @jasmindaughteroftheworld @laptiteantillaise @purplelewlew
A/N: Please let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist. The headers/dividers are by @inklore
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CHAPTER 4: Summer Break '23
The summer break had finally arrived, and Lewis couldn't contain his excitement. After a grueling first half of the season, he was ready for some time off to relax and recharge. Plans for two trips were set: one with his best mates Miles, Andrew, Louis, and Jas as well as Rorie and some of her girlfriends for a one-week cruise around Turkey, and another with his family to Colorado for relaxation and bonding time.
He missed hanging out with his boys, but he also missed his wife. Lewis wanted her to be with him in Belgium when he finished the first half of the season, but she had an interview with Bustle to prepare for, not to mention check in with Lyric and make sure everything was running smoothly at home. He was immensely proud of her for all of the opportunities that came her way, and he was certain that there was so much in store for her.
This break from racing was much needed for him, especially since his team's performance thus far had been subpar. They were struggling to keep up with their main competitor, Red Bull, and it was taking a toll on him mentally. He thought he had left all his emotions behind on the track, but they followed him even as he escaped to the Kusadasi port with his wife as they waited for their friends to arrive.
"Is everything alright?" Rorie asked, noticing the worried expression on her husband's face.
"I just can't stop thinking about the races and how we're not performing as well as we should," Lewis replied.
Rorie placed a reassuring hand on his arm. "You're still an amazing driver, Lewis. Don't let this get to you."
"I know, but I hate losing," Lewis sighed. "I want to win another championship for my team."
"Well, that's something we can work on when we get back," Rorie said with a smile. "But for now, let's enjoy our break and each other's company."
“You’re right.” Lewis nodded and leaned in for a kiss from his supportive wife. She always knew how to comfort him and put things into perspective.
“I’m always right,” giggled Rorie as he placed tender kisses along her jawline. He grumbled an indecipherable reply and the deep timbre sent shivers down her spine.
"Rorie!!" The sound of Kiara's high-pitched made Lewis groan and facepalm.
"You invited her, really baby?" he asked, irritated, as he moved away from his wife’s embrace.
"Of course I did," Rorie replied with a scoff. "KiKi is fun, and I think she has a little crush on Miles."
Lewis's eyes widened as he realized Rorie's intentions. "Please don't tell me you're trying to set them up."
"And if I am?" Rorie raised an eyebrow before striding off to greet her friend.
"Girl!" KiKi smiled widely as she took in the luxurious multi-level yacht that they were on. "I know your man got money, but this is wild! Thank you for inviting me; I bought Casamigos!"
"Yes!" cheered Rorie as she gave KiKi another hug. "I can always count on you to get the party started."
A small smirk appeared on Lewis' face. Despite her annoying demeanor, he had to give it to KiKi for bringing the fun. Whenever Rorie drank Casamigos, she turned into a bona fide freak in bed - something he definitely looked forward to.
Maybe inviting KiKi might not be bad after all, he thought. If he could get even two minutes of “special time” with Rorie, that would certain make him feel a whole lot better.
"Hey, Lew!" she spoke to him and he replied with a friendly wave. "You spent a lot of money on this yacht, my friend. I can already tell that this is going to be a trip of a lifetime."
Lewis chuckled at KiKi's comment, knowing that she was right. He had spared no expense in renting out this impressive yacht for their vacation. It was the least he could do for his closest friends and wife, who had been by his side through all of his races and training sessions.
"Something like that. How was your flight?" Lewis asked, trying to make conversation with KiKi as they waited for the rest of their friends to arrive.
"It was good," KiKi replied with a smile. "I ended up watching movies the whole time. Where's Miles fine ass at?"
Lewis rolled his eyes at KiKi's flirtatious comment. "He'll be here soon."
"I'll be surprised if you don't have him wrapped around your finger by the end of the night," Rorie teased.
KiKi rolled her eyes playfully. "Please, I already have him wrapped around my finger."
Just then, Miles, Louis, Andrew, and Jas arrived and joined them on the yacht. Miles hugged Rorie and Lewis before greeting KiKi with a kiss on the cheek.
"Hey gorgeous," he said with a charming smile. "Long time no see."
"Hey yourself, handsome," KiKi replied, batting her eyelashes flirtatiously.
The rest of Rorie's friends arrived on the yacht - Tia, Ayesha, and Britt. They were all excited to see each other and catch up. Tia and Ayesha were Rorie's closest friends from college and Britt was her childhood best friend.
As they settled into the yacht, Lewis went to check on the captain and make sure everything was in order. Meanwhile, Rorie and her friends grabbed some shots from the bar and headed to the deck.
"Can you believe it's been eight years since we graduated?" Tia exclaimed, raising her glass. "Cheers to us still being friends!"
They all clinked glasses and downed the shots.
"I can't believe we're all here together," Ayesha said with a smile. "It's like old times."
Everyone nodded in agreement, reminiscing about their college days and how much they had grown since then. Tia and Ayesha were both successful lawyers now, while Britt had pursued her love for photography and found success as a freelance photographer. KiKi had established a catering business in New York.
"Yeah, except now we're all successful women with our own careers," Britt added. "Rorie especially - Mrs. Hamilton and budding socialite."
Rorie laughed at Britt's words, feeling grateful for all the blessings in her life. She never imagined she'd end up marrying a world-renowned race car driver, but here she was, living her dream.
"Speaking of which," Rorie said, eyeing KiKi slyly. "What about you, KiKi? When are you going to settle down?"
KiKi rolled her eyes and took another sip of her drink. "I'm living my best life as a single woman," she replied with a smirk.
"She's too busy chasing after every hot guy she sees," Miles chimed in, earning a playful slap from KiKi.
"Funny coming from the one who slid into my DMs less than a day ago," KiKi retorted, causing everyone to fall silent with their jaws hanging open in surprise.
Lewis muttered under his breath, "Wow," and shot a telling look towards his best friend.
The group burst into laughter at Miles's expense and he playfully pretended to be offended.
"Hey, I have a reputation to uphold," he joked. "But in all seriousness, KiKi is a catch. Any guy would be lucky to have her."
KiKi grinned, knowing that Miles was just trying to make up for his slip-up. She didn't want to waste any more time talking about relationships when they were supposed to be having fun and letting loose on the yacht.
"Enough about me," she said, grabbing another bottle of Casamigos from the bar. "Let's focus on having a good time!"
Everyone eventually settled in, deciding to change into their swimwear and take a dip in the crystal clear waters surrounding the yacht. They all jumped off the deck and into the refreshing sea, laughing and splashing each other. The yacht sailed further into the Aegean, the warm sun and gentle breeze making for a perfect day out on the water. The group relaxed on the deck, enjoying drinks and snacks while taking in the beautiful views around them.
Meanwhile, Britt was busy capturing all the beautiful moments with her camera. She wandered around the yacht, snapping photos of everyone enjoying themselves. Lewis noticed her from where he sat with Rorie.
"Britt's really talented," he commented.
"Yeah, she's always loved photography," Rorie replied.
Suddenly, KiKi stood up from where she was sitting next to Miles.
"Alright guys," she announced with a grin. "It's time for our next activity: never have I ever!"
There were groans of protest from some members of the group while others whooped with excitement. Lewis and Rorie exchanged a knowing look, already anticipating the chaos that was about to ensue.
"I'll start!" KiKi declared, throwing back her shot of tequila before proclaiming, "Never have I ever hooked up with someone on a yacht."
This immediately caught everyone's attention and they all looked around at each other, trying to gauge who had done it and who hadn't.
Miles took a shot and laughed. "Looks like you're out, KiKi."
KiKi shrugged nonchalantly. "Hey, it was a yacht party. Things happen and I'll do it again." She shot Miles a flirtatious smirk, causing him to chuckle.
"Don't start nothing you can't finish, baby,” he teased her with a suggestive wink.
"Bring it on, Daddy," responded KiKi, causing everyone to hoot with laughter.
Rorie went next, taking a gulp of her drink before declaring, "Never have I ever went skydiving."
Lewis took a shot, causing her to laugh and give him a high five.
The game continued, with each person revealing some wild or funny experience they'd had. It was now Jas' turn and he glanced around the group with a glimmer of mischief in his eyes.
"Never have I ever kissed someone of the same gender." Jas declared.
All the women took shots, laughing as they did so.
"Wait, what?" Lewis exclaimed, his eyes widening in surprise. "You've all kissed another girl?"
"Well, yeah! It's a pretty common thing," Tia replied with a shrug.
Rorie chuckled and nudged her husband. "Don't worry, babe. You're the only one for me."
Lewis grinned and pulled her in for a kiss, causing KiKi and Miles to make gagging noises.
"Okay okay, let's continue the game," Jas interjected with a laugh. "You're turn Lou."
Louis thought for a moment before saying, "Never have I ever gone skinny dipping in the middle of winter."
Everyone laughed and took shots, except for Miles who shook his head. "Why would anyone do that?"
"It was a dare from my sorority sisters in college," Ayesha explained with a grin. "I couldn't back down."
"Alright, my turn," Tia said with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Never have I ever had a one-night stand with a celebrity."
The group immediately turned to Britt who took a sip of her drink.
"Who was it?" Miles asked, already sensing that this was going to be good.
"I'm not telling," Britt replied with a sly smile.
Lewis whistled impressed. "Damn girl, you're full of surprises tonight."
Jas laughed and put an arm around Britt's shoulder. "You're definitely our wild card for this trip."
Ayesha was next, "Never have I ever tried anal sex."
The group erupted into laughter at Ayesha's unexpected declaration.
"Shit, where did that come from?" Miles asked, still laughing.
"What? It's just a question," Ayesha defended herself with a shrug.
Only Rorie and Lewis took a shot. Rorie giggled and whispered something to Lewis, causing him to laugh.
"What was that?" KiKi asked curiously.
"Just reminiscing about our honeymoon," Rorie replied with a wink.
Tia grinned mischievously, "Okay okay, let's keep playing before we all get too fucked up."
"Okay okay, my turn," Britt said eagerly. "Never have I ever had sex in a public place."
Some took shots while others shook their heads in disbelief.
"Wait, seriously? Where?" KiKi asked with wide eyes.
Britt's cheeks warmed and shrugged. "In a movie theater parking lot."
Everyone's jaw dropped at her bold confession.
"Damn girl, you're truly are wild as hell," Jas exclaimed with a laugh. "It's always the quiet ones, bro."
It was now KiKi's turn again and she turned to Rorie and Lewis with a mischievous glint in her eye.
"Never have I ever been caught having sex by someone I know," she declared.
Everyone turned to Lewis and Rorie with curiosity, wondering if they would take a shot or not. With a chuckle, Lewis lifted his glass to his mouth and downed the drink in one go. Then, he picked up his wife's glass and did the same.
"You freaky bastard," Louis said with admiration.
"Y'all gotta chill though, for real," Miles commented. "You guys gonna end up having another baby."
"What? Who caught you guys?" Britt pressed excitedly.
Lewis smirked and leaned back in his chair. "That's for me to know and for you to never find out."
"It had to be almost everyone on this yacht, though," KiKi retorted, earning her a chiding glare from Rorie. "What? Don't look at me like that, mamas. You know it's the truth. I caught y'all a few times."
"Same here!" Miles concurred, raising his hand.
"Me too," noted Jas with a laugh.
"Okay okay, let's keep playing," Tia interjected with a grin.
The game eventually came to an end as everyone was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol. They all stumbled back to their cabins, laughing and joking along the way. Once they were in their respective rooms, Rorie and Lewis cuddled with each other in bed.
"This has been a great night," Rorie said, resting her head on Lewis' shoulder.
"It has," Lewis agreed, running his hand through her hair. "Thank you for planning this. I needed a break from all the racing drama."
"Anything for my husband," Rorie replied with a smile.
“Really?”
Lewis felt a surge of love for Rorie wash over him. He knew that she always had his back, no matter what.
“Of course,” she responded, staring at him intently.
“What if I want you to take off this shirt?” he said as his finger pulled down the strap tentatively. “I don’t think you need all these clothes on, sweetheart.”
He leaned in for a kiss, but their moment was cut short by muffled moans coming from the adjoining room.
"That's probably KiKi and Miles," Rorie said, trying to hide her smirk.
"Yep, sounds like they're having a good time," Lewis replied with a smile. "I can't believe you actually set up my best friend with yours."
The moans grew louder and more enthusiastic, prompting laughter from both Lewis and Rorie as they listened to their friends' escapades.
“I thought you said that the walls were sound proof?”
Lewis shrugged at his wife. “Shit, I guess not.” His fingers roamed her bare shoulder, making their way downward to cup her breasts.
“How can you still be in the mood? The noises don’t bother you?” Rorie said, swatting his hands away.
“I can ignore it.”
“Well, I cannot,” scoffed Rorie as she turned over. “No snookie.”
“Baby…”
“Nope, it’s too awkward.”
Lewis let out a disappointed sigh as he glanced down at his semi-erect penis. It was straining against the confines of his boxers, aching for release, yet he highly doubt that will happen. This was definitely not how he planned on having the night end, and suffice to say, he was going to have a word with KiKi and Miles.
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The next morning, everyone woke up to a beautiful sunrise over the ocean. They all met in the dining area for breakfast, still laughing and reminiscing about the previous night's game.
"Good morning, lovebirds," KiKi teased Lewis and Rorie as they walked in holding hands.
"Shut up," Rorie blushed, playfully swatting at KiKi.
"I'm just jealous," KiKi sighed dramatically. "Miles is too tired from last night to even hold my hand."
“Must be nice,” Lewis grumbled under his breath while everyone else laughed.
They settled down at the table to eat breakfast. The mood was light and carefree as they chatted and made plans for the day.
"So what are we doing today?" Louis asked, taking a sip of his coffee.
"Well, Lewis and I were thinking we could all go out on a boat for some water activities," Rorie suggested. "We could also explore Bodrum for a bit."
"That sounds like a great idea," Tia said.
"Yeah, and then maybe we can all have a seafood lunch later?" Jas added.
"Sounds perfect to me," Britt agreed.
"Where do we go after Bodrum?" wondered KiKi.
"We have about two days in Bodrum then two days in Rhodes. From there it's Antalya for three days and we spend the rest of the time in Cappadocia," said Lewis.
The group spent the rest of the morning getting ready and packing their beach bags. Rorie and Lewis had arranged for a private boat to take them out on the water, equipped with all the necessary equipment for various water activities.
As they boarded the boat, everyone was in high spirits, excited for a day of fun and adventure. They made their way out to sea, taking in the stunning views of the turquoise water and rocky cliffs.
They took turns jet skiing and banana boating. The group spent several hours out on the water before making their way back to shore. They were all exhausted but thrilled from their day of adventure.
"That was amazing!" exclaimed Britt as they docked at Bodrum harbor.
"I haven't had that much fun in a long time," added Tia with a smile.
"We should definitely make this an annual tradition," suggested Jas.
Afterward, they explored Bodrum, taking in the sights and sounds of the beautiful coastal town. The group settled down at a nearby restaurant for lunch, enjoying the fresh seafood and soaking up the vibrant atmosphere of Bodrum. As they ate and chatted, Miles approached Lewis with a serious expression. "Hey bruv, can we talk for a sec?"
Lewis nodded and followed Miles away from the rest of the group.
"I just wanted to say thank you for setting me up with KiKi," Miles said sincerely.
"It wasn't me, it was Rorie," Lewis replied with a smile. "But I'm glad it's working out."
Miles sighed and looked out at the ocean. "It's just been so long since I've been with someone and she makes me feel alive again."
Lewis could see the genuine happiness in Miles's eyes as he spoke about KiKi. He put his hand on Miles's shoulder in support.
"I'm happy for you, man," Lewis said.
Miles smiled gratefully at his friend before they headed back to join the rest of the group.
The group explored more of Bodrum, visiting local markets and souvenir shops before finishing off lounging on the yacht. Their time in Rhodes and Antalya was the same: exploring, eating amazing food, immersing themselves in activities like hiking and riding ATVs.
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Soon, they arrived at their final destination, and the group couldn't help but feel excited and curious about what Cappadocia had in store for them. The landscape was unlike anything they had ever seen before - a surreal mix of dusty red and white rock formations scattered across the horizon.
After a few hours on the road, they finally arrived at their hotel, an elegant cave accommodation carved into the side of one of the fairy chimneys. The rooms were luxurious and spacious, with soft lighting and plush furnishings.
"Welcome to Aza Cave Hotel, Hamilton Party," the concierge greeted with a warm smile. "Please, have some tea."
A waiter came around offering Turkish tea. Each of them took a cup and sipped slowly, savoring the rich and aromatic taste.
"This is really good!" exclaimed KiKi. "Do you guys sell this? I would love to take some back home."
"Of course, ma'am," said the concierge. "I'll make arrangements to have a selection gift box placed in your room. It contains all of our popular blends."
The group thanked the concierge and took some time to freshen up before meeting in the lobby to head to dinner at the hotel's terrace restaurant. As they made their way to the restaurant, the group couldn't help but admire the stunning view of Cappadocia at sunset. The orange and pink hues of the sky reflected off the unique rock formations, creating a magical ambiance.
Once they were seated at their table, the hotel staff brought out a delicious spread of traditional Turkish dishes - from savory kebabs and dolma to fragrant rice pilaf and mezze platters. Everyone dug in eagerly as they discussed their plans for exploring Cappadocia.
"We have an early morning start tomorrow," Rorie said as she took a sip of her wine. "We're going on a hot balloon ride."
"I can't wait!" exclaimed Britt, bouncing in her seat with excitement.
"It's going to be amazing," added Jas, grinning from ear to ear.
"How early is early though?" she wondered aloud, making everyone turn to stare blankly at her.
"What? I'm just saying what everyone is thinking," KiKi defended herself with a laugh.
"Early is early, Kiara," Miles teased, nudging her side. "Why? You need extra time for some beauty sleep?"
"I mean, yeah," nodded KiKi with a grin. "Y'all have been tiring me out. I don't think I've stayed up this late since college."
"If you're getting old, just say that, girl," joked Tia, causing KiKi to hit her playfully with a napkin.
"Never that, sweetie," she retorted, "but I need some time to relax too."
"They have a spa here, y'know?" Ayesha said. "We can hit it up later."
"Say less, girl!" KiKi grinned widely.
"I mean since the girls are gettin' their massage on, I say we hit up a game of pool after the balloon ride," suggested Jas with a sly grin.
"You think we would want to play another game with you after you just cheated during basketball?" teased Lewis, reminding everyone of how Jas had cheated during their pickup game while they were sailing to Antalya.
"Oh come on, it was all in good fun," Jas defended herself with a laugh. "But seriously, we should do something active."
"I'm down for pool," said Andrew. "Or maybe bowling? I heard there’s a bowling alley here."
"We could go for a hike tomorrow instead," Louis suggested. "I heard there are some amazing trails around here."
"That actually sounds perfect," said Miles.
"Okay, so that's settled then," concluded Lewis. "We'll go hiking tomorrow."
The group continued chatting and laughing as they enjoyed their drinks and snacks. Eventually, Rorie looked at her watch and realized it was getting late.
"Guys, as much as I'd love to stay out all night with y'all, I think I’m going to head to bed soon," she announced.
"Yeah, same here," agreed Ayesha. "We have an early start tomorrow."
"Okay, let's call it a night then," said Tia.
The group said their goodnights and headed back to their rooms. Lewis and Rorie made their way down the echoing hallway, the dim light casting long shadows across the walls. Upon entering the room, Lewis wasted no time in pulling Rorie closer to him, his eyes filled with longing. He leaned in, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss that spoke volumes of the desires burning within him. Rorie could feel the intensity of his touch, the heat of his body pressing against hers, igniting a fire deep within her soul.
Rorie gently pulled away, a look of concern in her eyes. "Lewis, we really don't have time for this," she whispered, trying to reason with him. "It's almost midnight, and we need to be well-rested for our early morning balloon ride."
"I'll be quick," he says as he plants kisses down her neck.
“You always say that,” Rorie chided as she rolled her eyes. She allowed his kisses to trail downward to that special spot on her collarbone. Rorie couldn't help but let out a small moan as Lewis continued to kiss her, his hands roaming over her body. She had to admit, she was tempted to just give in, but she knew they would regret this in the morning. “You have fifteen minutes. Can you work with that?”
Lewis grinned mischievously, his hands still roaming over Rorie's body. "I can work with anything," he replied, his voice laced with desire.
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The next morning, the group gathered in the lobby of the hotel bright and early. They were all dressed comfortably for their hike and ready for a day of adventure.
Rorie noticed Lewis standing off to the side, looking a little tired.
"Did you get any sleep last night?" she asked him softly.
"Not really," he admitted with a sheepish grin as he waggled his eyebrows. "But it was worth it." He added a light slap on her ass for dramatic effect, causing Rorie rolled her eyes playfully and give him small smile.
They were greeted by the hotel staff with warm towels and fresh coffee before heading out to meet their tour guide.
"Good morning, Hamilton Party!" exclaimed the guide, a friendly man named Murat. "Are you ready for an unforgettable experience?"
The group eagerly nodded as they boarded the van that would take them to the balloon launch site. As they drove through the quiet streets of Cappadocia, Murat shared interesting facts about the region's history and culture.
They arrived at the launch site just as the sun was starting to rise. The sight of dozens of colorful balloons filling up with air against the backdrop of Cappadocia's unique landscape took everyone's breath away.
"Wow," whispered Miles in awe.
"This is going to be incredible," said Lewis with a grin.
After a safety briefing from Murat, they climbed into their designated balloon basket and took off into the sky. The feeling of weightlessness and the stunning views around them left everyone speechless.
As they glided over fairy chimneys and valleys, Murat pointed out notable landmarks and answered any questions they had. The whole experience was truly magical.
After an hour-long flight, they landed smoothly back on solid ground. Everyone clapped in excitement as they made their way back to Aza Cave Hotel for a well-deserved breakfast.
"That was absolutely amazing!" exclaimed KiKi as she dug into her plate of Turkish pastries.
"I can't believe we got to see Cappadocia from above," added Britt with a dreamy smile.
"It was definitely one for the books," said Jas with a satisfied sigh.
"Did I tell you guys how much I love y'all?" Miles said with a playful grin as he wiped crumbs off his mouth.
"You don't have to say it," KiKi replied, giving him a warm smile. "We know."
“No but seriously,” said Miles. “I love you guys for real. This has been one of the most amazing weeks of my life. I truly appreciate our friendship. To friendship!” he lifted up his cup of coffee and everyone joined with their various glasses.
“To friendship!” everyone toasted.
"I can't believe we almost didn't come here," Ayesha said with a shake of her head. "We would have missed out on so much."
"I know, right?" agreed Jas. "But I'm glad we took this trip together."
"Me too," Lewis added, putting his arm around Rorie's shoulder.
"This has been one epic adventure," Britt said with a sigh. "But now it's time to go back to reality."
"Don't remind me," KiKi groaned playfully. “I want to stay in Turkey forever.”
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Days later in London......
Alexander sat in his office at The Sun, sifting through the documents that the private investigator had handed him. He couldn't believe what he was reading.
"Are you sure about this?" he asked, looking up at the PI.
"Positive," replied the PI. "I double-checked all my sources and everything adds up."
Alexander leaned back in his chair, trying to process this information. He had been tasked with finding out any secrets or questionable behaviors of the Hamilton family, and this was certainly a bombshell.
"And how did you find all of this out?" he asked the PI.
"I have my ways," replied the PI with a smirk.
Alexander nodded, still deep in thought. "Anyone else knows about this?" he asked.
"I highly doubt it," said the PI.
"Good, we’ll be the first tabloid to break the news then. Well, thank you for your work on this," he said to the PI. "I'll make sure your payment is sent over promptly."
As soon as the PI left his office, Alexander pulled out his phone and dialed his boss’ number.
"Hello?" answered his boss, David, on the other line after a few rings.
"David, it's Alexander," said Alexander in a serious tone.
"Any news?”
“Tons. You wouldn’t believe what I’ve just found out about Rorie Hamilton.”
"Well done, Alexander," said David with a hint of excitement in his voice. "This could be the story of the year."
TO BE CONTINUED......
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fryingpan1234567 · 2 months
Text
listen I knowwww Roach should be British. he was on a British task force. he’s got the flag on his uniforms. but when @fixfoxnox said southerner Roach I just couldn’t not love him okay leave me alone
anyways. southerner Roach shenanigans
(I guess you could call this a Something in the Orange fanfic since he’s besties with Jackson in this scenario as well as dating Ghost and Soap……… but it’s general enough it’s probably fine ANYWAYS)
Roach’s accent, while it normally only lightly flavors a few of his words, gets considerably thicker when he’s visiting home
I mean like he does the thing southerners do where they somehow mash entire sentences into one word and the others are just like “……….what” but Jackson is nodding like he understood
Like. They’re all at dinner together somewhere. Somebody brings up the rodeo at the state fair. The Europeans have no idea what they’re talking about. Roach just goes “y’ain’tneverheardadat??” and Soap nearly has a stroke trying to figure out what he meant but Jackson continues to eat soundly like he didn’t hear anything wrong
COWBOY👏 HAT👏 RULE👏
HELP
No no no they go to some random dive bar for one of their birthdays. It doesn’t matter whose. Jackson and Roach both have cowboy hats because OBVIOUSLY and like. They exchange this look that the others can’t figure out whenever one of their boyfriends steals their hat via flirting
(They tell them later and then can’t stop laughing while Soap and Ghost and Gaz are just sitting there like uh oh)
After that the hat stealing is very much purposeful
Square dancing to fucking Timber by Kesha and Pitbull in said dive bar because that’s just required idk what to tell you
Soap and Ghost seeing Roach ride a horse for the first time and visibly bluescreen
Roach recognizing people from high school in his hometown even tho he hasn’t seen them in like 20 years
He likes Taylor Swift but only her old country-adjacent stuff
Ghost and Soap couldn’t figure out his aversion to any kind of substitute milk until he took them home and they found out it’s because he grew up drinking milk that literally came from the cows he has in his backyard. They own two cows. And a few chickens. Very resourceful
Jackson and Roach dragging the 141 to Roach’s family’s Super Bowl party one year because in the southern states it’s a huge fucking deal
The Europeans being like “………this is quite possibly one of the dumbest things I’ve ever seen in my life” but their boys are having fun so it’s okay
God help the rest of them. Jackson and Roach are rooting for opposite teams.
There’s screaming, there’s wrestling on the living room floor, there’s spilling food and beer everywhere. The amount of rubbing it in after a touchdown lands is fucking crazy, and they’ve shouted about stabbing each other every single time
Eventually, maybe with a bit of googling, the others get into it. Soap hasn’t stopped shoving Mrs. Roach’s buffalo chicken dip in his face since he’d discovered it when they’d arrived, and Ghost was letting the kids use his tattoo like a coloring page while he chatted with Roach’s dad and brothers. Gaz kept getting elbowed in the ribs whenever Roach and Jackson tousled on the couch, and a couple times he was asked to hold Jackson’s beer so “I can kick some sense into this dipshit,” usually followed by Roach’s maniacal cackling. Price was banging around in the kitchen with Mrs. Roach. Nobody knew how he’d gotten dragged into that, but he seemed to be enjoying himself
On the topic of bringing the boys home to the fam oh my GODS thanksgiving
Ghost is not a dessert person. He’s never been a dessert person. But he had four slices of Mr. Roach’s apple pie, so,,,,,,,,, apparently he is actually a dessert person
Obvi Roach is good with all guns, but he was hunting with his dad and brothers by the time he was like six. He knows how to work a shotgun like he breathes
(Ahem being southern is why he’s so fucking stubborn btw if anyone was wondering)
Roach and Jackson both are religious Dolly Parton listeners
“DID U GUYS KNOW SHE WROTE JOLENE AND I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU ON THE SAME DAY—“
Ghost and Soap wake up one night because there’s a weird noise outside. They poke Roach awake like “???? what was that??” and he was just like “oh yeah the woods make noises sometimes. don’t worry about it. if something actually wanted to kill you, you wouldn’t hear it coming” and promptly passed back out
“Yea I’ve seen a skinwalker before” “FYM YOU’VE S E E N O N E ? “ “It was in my backyard?? Relax it just wanted the coyote that always tries to kill our chickens. I didn’t really mind”
Gaz suggests investigating a weird figure he saw in the woods. Roach laughs out loud and Jackson smacks him in the back of the head like “that’s how you fucking die you idiot”
“Y’all’re lucky we’re here to stop you from doing somethin’ stupid. Fuckin’ city slickers” “What did you just call me”
The deafening sounds of crickets and locusts puts Roach to sleep almost instantly every night. Ghost barely sleeps every time they visit.
”IT IS SO FUCKING LOUD IF ONE MORE BLOODY CRICKET—“ “Simon not everyone needs literal dead silence to sleep—“
No matter how many pillows he stacks on top of his head he can’t escape it
Oh. Oh. The Europeans CANNOT do southern heat. They’re passed out on the porch while Jackson and Roach and Roach’s brothers play football in the front yard
Roach makes killer lemonade and iced tea nobody talk to me
He has a rusty blue ancient pickup that he says is his baby. One of the wheels is misshapen and the bed squeaks dangerously every time they hit a pothole, but he won’t get rid of it EVER
Roach introduces Soap and Ghost to catching fireflies in jars with his nieces and nephews. They are. So in love with the concept.
It gets turned into a competition, because of course it does, and it looked like Ghost was going to win— but then the youngest of the participating children silently held up a jar that was too bright to look at and audibly buzzing from the amount of bugs inside of it. They cut their losses and embrace the fact that they’ll never be That Good
Southern👏 sunsets👏 there ain’t nothing like it
Soap has a sketchbook dedicated entirely to doodling Roach doing farm things
Roach had a horse he took care of in high school. Her name was Peaches and he literally cried when he found pictures of her in his room
Ghost LOVES the sweet old border collie Roach’s parents have. That dog has seen many a stampede, and he’s herded just as many. What a man. Ghost does not leave him alone Ever
gods fuck me bro I could literally talk about southern Roach F O R E V E R (idk if you can tell from the long ass post Jesus Christ)
good morning/ night/ 4am lmk if you want more of this
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privwrites · 5 months
Text
Geto's Golden Girl
Suguru Geto x female Reader x Gojo being Gojo
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summary: You're Suguru Getos best and favourite student. He sends you on a new mission, and technically there's nothing that could go wrong. That is until you meet a former friend of your Sensei, who is all to eagier to get to know everything about you and your connection to Geto...
wordcount: around 4300
authors notes:
• not many spoilers really, but you should know what happens to Geto at the end of the jjk movie
• fanfiction takes place in an AU in which Geto will NEVER die (I'm still traumatised). Let's just say Gojo didn't have the heart to actually kill Geto at the end of jjk 0. Instead he left him severely wounded and walked away. That was your chance to save Geto and bring him home.
• English isn't my first language, so I might mix up some JJK terms.
tw: age gap (it's not a fanfic of mine if it doesn't have an age gap haha sorry), student x sensei/mentor/kinda father figure dynamic, violence, fight scenes, emotional rollercoaster, mentions of death, mentions of manipulation and kidnapping, humour, angst, fluff
Beta read by no one, I need female anime friends <3
backstory: You're one of Geto Sugurus scholars. Years ago he had rescued you from the humans of your village. You were able to see things they didn't, so they tried to exorcise you. You would've been dead if it hadn't been for Geto. Back then you were eight years old. Ever since then you lived with the sorcerer. He became your personal mentor, since he saw great potential in you and your cursed energy. The other two girls he rescued, Mimiko and Nanako Hasaba, were a few years younger than you. You viewed them as your sisters, but they never got as much attention and training from Geto like you did.
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You were on your way home when you felt the first raindrop on your cheek. Looking up, the sky was gray, framed by orange-brown leaves on the trees lining the pavement. Autumn had finally arrived in Japan, and you felt relieved to bid farewell to this summer's heatwave. More raindrops fell, splashing on your dark blue jacket. Sighing, you opened your umbrella—this morning, the sky had been sunny and blue. Luckily, you always came prepared. The first humans hastened towards the stores, seeking shelter from the rain, hands raised over their heads. The sound of rain grew louder, amplified by the cars navigating the wet streets. You never particularly hated humans, but you didn't find them very interesting either. They simply coexisted with your world of Jujutsus and cursed energy. You didn't even resent the people in the village where you grew up. Hatred was a weighty emotion, and you enjoyed living an anger-free life. Eventually, your mentor Geto had accepted your relaxed attitude towards humans. Although you were probably the only one in his community that he allowed to have such a different opinion compared to his. You had always liked to talk back and had Geto questioning his will to actually teach and raise you a million times. But your were the strongest sorcerer your age, which was a big bonus point for you.
It was still raining when you reached home. The huge traditionally japanese mansion had space for your bedroom, Mimiko and Nanakos room and Geto's private chambers. Besides that there were many taijutsu practice rooms and guest rooms. Walking through the inner courtyard connecting various rooms via a small garden, the clacking sound of the Shishi Odoshi echoed across the space. Placing your umbrella on the wooden engawa, you removed your shoes and slid open the door to your room. Inside it was warm and cozy. The sound of the rain became quieter. You changed from your outdoor attire into comfortable indoor clothes and settled onto your futon. it didn't ake you long to feel tired. Sleep always came easily to you; you had a substantial need for it. The relaxing pitter-patter of the rain accompanied you into your dreams.
It didn't take Suguru Geto long to notice your return home. There was nothing in his house that the great sorcerer didn't know about, and the sight of the dark blue umbrella on your engawa was all too familiar. "Always prepared," he thought to himself. Geto was aware that you were likely asleep, as it was often the case on your days off. Despite it being only afternoon, your cursed technique of controlling all four elements of nature could be draining, requiring ample rest. Today it seemed like you just did a simple stroll through town, but even then, your cursed energy was always present. So the sorcerer waited another two hours before he sent Mimiko to wake you.
He had plans for you. He always had.
***
Geto could hear your footsteps long before you entered what could be described as his living room. You closed the sliding door behind you. Outside, it was still raining. Geto's gaze fixated on you instantly. The light blue Japanese kimono wrapped your figure elegantly, and your shiny hair framed your delicate face. "You called for me, Sensei?" you asked in your typically soft voice. "Yes, my dear. Sit down, please." You settled onto the tatami mat, your movements fluent and elegant. "So much like me," he thought, observing you. "I have a mission for you, y/n. There's an abandoned mall outside of Tokyo. From what my informant said, there's a cursed spirit that is powerful enough to be of great value for us." As he spoke, he turned on the andon lamp on the flat table between you two. It was already getting dark outside. You rolled your eyes. "Let me guess – you want me to bring it to you?" The sorcerer in front of you had an amused smile on his lips, his dark eyes holding a certain allure. You were different from the rest of his followers - while they would agree unquestioningly, you always dared to contradict or doubt him. And Geto allowed it- every time. "Precisely," he continued. "I can't get it myself; I'll be occupied. And I only trust you to get this done. I know you won't disappoint me." He was right. You wouldn't. If you followed his orders, you did it to his satisfaction - every time.
"I need more details, Sensei. When should I go? Where exactly is it? Should I bring Mimiko and Nanako? They could use another training session." Geto grinned at your numerous questions. You had a love for details and disliked not knowing everything about a mission. Geto ran his large hand through his raven-dark hair, a few strands falling onto his forehead. "You will go alone. Tomorrow afternoon. One of my drivers will bring you there. Capture it in the evening and come back during the night. We can't risk being seen." The golden light of the lantern flickered in your eyes. "We?" you mocked, "You won't even be there!" Geto sighed. "You couldn't let that slide, could you, y/n?" - "No chance," you answered, now grinning too. "Alright, I will take care of your cursed spirit for you. May it help you with whatever devilish plan you're coming up with next," you said, rising to leave.  Geto observed you in silence until you were almost out the door. "When did I tell you that you are dismissed already, y/n?" he asked sharply. "Oh," you retorted, wearing a hypocritically thoughtful expression, "never." You grinned and left, leaving behind your sweet scent that lingered in the air—Geto took a deep breath. Blackcurrant lychee, the same perfume he had bought you years ago.
***
The mall to which Geto had sent you had been abandoned for quite a while. As you approached it, the deserted structure loomed ominously in the night, its once vibrant exterior now a faded, dreary facade against the relentless rain. The stench of dampness lingered in the air, mixing with the earthy scent of decay. The stars and the moon were shrouded in clouds, and it was raining again. Closed to the public, the mall occasionally attracted adventurous teenagers, some of whom mysteriously vanished. "Stupid mission", you grumbled to yourself, yearning for the comfort of your bed and a good book.  You swore to yourself to complain to Geto once you were back. Fucking idiot for not getting his cursed spirits by himself. But since you had decided to stay out of his other mad plans as much as possible, tasks like this one were becoming more regular for you. Finding the entrance, cordoned off with barrier tape, didn't take long. Stepping inside, a familiar tingle coursed through your stomach— the cursed spirit wasn't far. All you had to do was to follow your gut feeling. Meanwhile, you carefully looked around the mall. Smaller raindrops were dripping into bigger puddles on the ground, and many store entrances were barricaded. The eeriest thing was the flickering of some of the store neon lights. Why did they still have power? Your steps echoed on the wet floor. Maybe it was the cursed energy in the mall that made some of the lights flicker. Sneaking your way into the building, you could feel the energy of the curse grew stronger. Carefully you took out your sealing box. Capturing a curse with it was pretty easy for you. Also because Geto made your practice it a million times when you were younger. He used to have this annoying little spirit that always jumped around laughing and was incredibly hard to catch. Thinking about it made you grin-but this was neither the right place nor the right time for that. Besides, you were still a little annoyed with Geto for sending you here.
Suddenly, a strange, eerie mumbling echoed through the mall. That had to be the cursed spirit! "Of cou-course I can check the ware-warehouse for the item, which is obviously already sold out." You chuckled. Sometimes, the spirits last words were quite comical. Following the echoing sounds, you traced the spirit to a secluded corner of the mall. It was a grotesque manifestation, its malformed figure adorned with bones protruding from its mouth. Its skin bore a sickly hue of purple-turquoise, marred by blisters. Despite its repulsive appearance, you sensed its huge strength, yet nothing beyond your capabilities. The cursed spirit let out a squeak upon sighting you. "Better get this done quickly", you thought to yourself. Your power of controling the elements (fire, water, earth, air) made it easy for you to capture the curse inside the sealingbox after a short fight. Once the curse was sealed, you left the corner of the mall as quickly as possible, mainly to escape the stench of the curse still lingering in the air.
You got back to the main hall and were about to take out your cell phone to text Geto's driver-when something suddenly made you pause. The main hall of the shopping mall stretched around the corner about 30 meters in front of you. You hadn't been in this area before. And suddenly you could feel something - cursed energy? But the curse was sealed in the box in your hand, wasn't it!? The energy grew stronger. Very strong. You immediately got into a fighting stance. Whatever was so strong wouldn't let you escape anyways. Footsteps—long, deliberate—echoed in the flickering neon-lit corridor. Your heart raced with apprehension. What the hell was going on!? A figure emerged from around the corner, and you froze. A man, tall and adorned in dark, sophisticated attire, stood a few meters in front of you. He was wearing simple sunglasses, but despite that, you could see how handsome he was. His blue eyes seemed to shine through his sunglasses, and white hair framed his face. Recognition dawned on you. You had heard much about him but never encountered him in person. "Fuck," you muttered, stepping back a few paces in defense. What was HE doing here!?
"'Fuck?' the man asked, scratching the back of his head thoughtfully as if contemplating what you just said. You observed him anxiously. Suddenly, his expression brightened. "Fuck? Yeah, that probably is what most women first think when they look at me!" You opened your mouth and closed it again, unable to bring out any answer. Geto had told you alot about his old friend, including that he was quite full of himself, but it seemed that you only just now understood what he really meant. It took you a few moments to compose yourself. "That's not—what I meant!", you finally defended yourself, holding the sealing box behind you defensively, anticipating any attacks from him. "Meant what? Fuck? I'm sorry love, but that's not why I'm here." He casually slipped his hands into his pockets, grinning carefreely. And you? You couldn't believe it. You had never encountered a more unserious man, that was certain! And he was Geto's best friend? The contrast couldn't be more stark between the two. "You know, I'm actually here to get to know someone. I'm looking for a girl, around (your/age) years old, (your/haircolor) hair, and with a quite good curse technique", he explained. It was obvious that he was searching for you for some reason. However, the sorcerer seemed to enjoy to tease you. But you weren't having it. "Seems like you found her then", you answered grim. "Excelent! You know, I do really hate searching!" He looked genuinely happy about it, "I heard a lot about you, my dear." You swallowed. You couldn't trust him at all. Of course he was stronger than you and whatever reason brought him here, couldn't mean anything good for you.
"What would Satoru Gojo want from me?", you asked sharply, watching his every move. "Oh, you know my name already, perfect!" The urge to wipe that stupid smile off his face grew stronger inside you. "Anyways, Miss (your/lastname), here's my brilliant plan: you're gonna give me the cursed-spirit that you captured so well. And then I will kidnap you too. Agree?" He made his plan sound like it was the best thing in the world. "What- no!", you spat out, "why would I do that?!" Gojo Satoru scratched his neck again. "Because the other option would be for you to fight me. In that case, you would obviously loose. And I personally just hate fighting a pretty woman!" His dumb comments started to trigger you, prompting you to shoot a small fire ball into his direction. You'd never surrender without a fight! "Oops!", Gojo squeaked in surprise, taking a step aside. The fireball left a hole in the old storefront of a former restaurant behind him, igniting it. He watched it burn and sighed. 'That store used to have really good Kikufuku, you know?" - „I do not care!", you shouted. Gojo was incredibly irritating. „Well", he continued, „I should've known Getos golden girl won't submit to me that easily." You raised an eyebrow. "Geto's golden girl?" - "Exactly", he said, "you are his best and favourite student after all, right? That's why I'm here, y/n." You wanted to say something sassy back, but you couldn't even deny the 'best and favourite' part. Instead a new fireball started to form in your hand. You shot it towards him- faster this time, but the tall man easily dodged it. It seemed as though Gojo was enjoying your attacks.
If only you would have enough time to flee with the captured spirit! Instead Gojo continued his unbothered talking. "You were also the one to save Geto after I defeated him, right? He must mean quite alot to you. And honestly- I can't even blame you! He is incredibly smart and hot!" - "I don't need your opinion!", you shouted, sending a wave of air in his direction. Any other opponent would have been smashed against the wall, but not Gojo. He stumbled back a few steps. "Wow! You really are talented! I understand what Geto sees in you! I'm glad he didn't lose his taste after all!" - "That's none of your business either!" Did this guy ever shut up!? "Actually, it is. Geto is my best friend as much as he is my enemy. And therefore his plans concern me. And so do his students that he manipulated into staying with him." A contemptuous sound escaped you. "I enjoy my life and freedom with Geto, and so do the others!" Gojo nodded. „I knew you'd say that. In that case, show me what you got, dear! For you, I'll take off my sunglasses. Strong fighters deserve to face me without them." He put his glasses away and his blue eyes seemed to stare into your soul. There was no escaping him. You couldn't defeat him. But you never surrendered either. And strangely enough, something within you sparked a sudden surge of fighting spirit. This was your mission for Geto! You always promised and delivered for your sensei, and you wouldn't stop just because blue-eyes decided to show up! „Fine, I'd rather die than hand over the curse or even myself!" You utilized your power over air to elevate yourself off the ground, hovering a few meters above it. In your hand, a flame grew, intensifying with each passing second. Fire was your strongest skill—essential for this battle. "This could've been much easier", Gojo sighed. Before you could answer, you were struck by a punch, hurling you through the air. How was he so fast? Luckily, your air-skills saved you. You threw the fireball back, and within seconds you and Gojo were engrossed in a fight. In the meantime, he kept shouting comments at you about your cursed techniques. "Aim a little further to the right!", "Yeah, you got me there!" , That was better!" - You couldn't answer his comments.  He grew stronger with each passing moment, and soon, you found yourself crashing into walls and barraged with waves of cursed energy. You stood no chance.
So, you did the last thing you could do: you secretly did a special cursed technique, anchoring the sealing box itself firmly into the ground. Geto had taught you this particular technique. It was designed in a way that only a person of your choosing could effortlessly retrieve the box from the ground- Geto in your case. It was an impossibility for anyone else since the technique was intrinsically linked to the Sorcerer's life—yours. Then all your strength left you in exhaustion. Gojo immediately pulled you toward him, your back pressed against his, his arm against your throat. "I haven't encountered such an intriguing opponent in a while", his breath brushed against your neck, "Unfortunately, you don't stand a chance against me. I will now take you and the imprisoned curse with me. But mark my words—you will grow incredibly strong one day." - "You're... not... my sensei!' you managed to utter, straining to speak with whatever breath remained in your lungs.
"That's right, but I am!" an all too familiar soft but serious voice interjected, "and now, Gojo, my old friend, could you please release my y/n? She hates being restrained like that." - „Geto!", you shouted. In the neon light, a few meters in front of you, stood your sensei. He was clad in a dark kimono, his eyes glaring sharply at Gojo behind you. The light reflected his beautiful face. „Geto, finally! It's delighting to see you!", Gojo exclaimed enthusiastically, "I knew you'd show up eventually. You can't leave your dear y/n alone after your sources have told you that I'm here too, I understand that!" - "Release her, Gojo, now!" Your sensei's expression was more determined than ever. An intense tension crackled between the two powerful men, their presence adding to the charged atmosphere. "Gladly, Geto," Gojo replied, "but I just realized you'll have to release the cursed anchor of the sealing box in the ground. Apart from y/n, only you can open it. Nice technique you taught her, by the way." For a plit second, Geto glanced at you with pride. The anchor technique was incredibly challenging to master. "The alternative is for me to kill your student, Geto," Gojo's voice turned dangerously serious. "Geto, you need that curse! Take it and leave!" you shouted. Getos gaze met yours, and his facial expression softened immediately. "Leave you?" he asked, then turned to Gojo, "I'd sooner give up everything I've achieved in my life than to leave y/n. If you want the curse that badly, Gojo, I'll hand it over!" You stared at Geto in disbelief. You knew how much your sensei had sacrificed to reach his current position—it meant everything to him! "Geto—" you managed to say, "no...!" He looked at you, a faint smile on his lips. "It's alright, y/n. I've made my decision."
Suddenly, Gojo's grip around your neck eased, and you broke free, almost tumbling to the ground before Geto swiftly caught and supported you. Clinging to the fabric of his soft kimono, you caught the familiar scent of cedarwood. "Shh, it's alright", Geto reassured, his hand gently stroking your hair. A chuckle from Gojo drew your gaze upward. "So, there's still good in you, old friend", Gojo spoke surprsingly soft. "I'm sorry I had to put you both in this situation, but I needed to make sure Geto hadn't lost his old self. I needed to know if he still cared for those around him." Your eyes widened in realization. What the hell? „You didn't come here of your own accord, isn't that right, Gojo?", Geto asked him, "the council of Jujutsu sorcerers sent you."  You looked questioningly at Geto, whose gaze was fixed on Gojo. Geto continued: "Someone told the council that I would look for the curse in the old mall. So they sent you to defeat me for good." Gojo nodded. „You have a sharp mind as always, Geto. I was instructed to end your life here, in this very mall." Realization struck you: "So the council thought Geto would show up, and instead you met me! But how did you know about me anyways? You couldn't know Geto wasn't here!", you exclaimed. "You're not entirely wrong, y/n," Gojo replied. "The council had no clue that Geto sent you. But given that Geto is my best friend, I'm usually well-informed about his actions. Thus, I assumed that for a mission like this, his top student—namely you—would likely handle it. Even though Geto couldn't have known I was waiting here for you instead."
You nodded in understanding, but suddenly, Geto's hold around you tightened. "Does the council of Jujucists know that y/n is here too, Gojo?" he asked tensely, surprising you. Geto appeared nervous. "No, they're unaware," Gojo replied. "I didn't inform the council of my suspicion of meeting y/n here instead of you. That way, I could test you, Geto, by forcing you to choose between your goals and your heart", and looking at you he said: "I would've never killed you, y/n. Because that would have meant I'd have had to fight an incredibly enraged Geto - and then I might have ended up losing after all." You shook your head. "You're completely insane, Gojo Satoru." Gojo winked at you. "Well I care about my best friend's loved ones." You rose to your feet slowly, and Geto was there, lending his support as you straightened up. You brushed the dust from the earlier fight off your clothes, then looked at two special grade jujutsu sorcerers. "And what happens next? What will you tell the council, Gojo?" - "That's a smart question, y/n. And our next problem. I could never kill Geto, but even if I didn't, the council would, if I captured him instead of killing him. You grabbed Getos arm immediately. "That's not an option!", you stated. "I know, dear. But the councils has spies anywhere, so they definitely know that I've met Geto here in the mall. And by now, they probably know about you y/n too. The only solution is for you two to leave this place immediately. Hide from the council until they  give up searching for you", Gojo said, seemingly unhappy with the situation.
Geto took a step infront of you. "I won't drag y/n into fleeing and hiding from the council with me! It's dangerous and only I am responsible for my current situation!" His voices conveyed a deep seriousness. Gojo nodded understandably. "Then I'll take y/n with me, back to Tokyo Jujutsu High School. I'll tell the council that you manipulated y/n and that she's entirely innocent. And that I didn't have the physical strength to defeat you, but instead freeded y/n. This way, she can stay safe until the council stops their hunt for you." Geto nodded immediately in agreement, whilst your eyes widenend. "No!", you shouted, "I'll stay with Geto! I don't care if they chase us!" Gojo looked at you with pity. Suddenly you all heard a noise from the other side of the mall. "Geto, you need to leave! Someone's coming!", Gojo spoke hurriedly. "No, Geto no!", you pleaded, "no sensei abandons their student!" Geto leaned down to you, his expression a blend of sorrow and determination. "Listen, y/n," he spoke softly, "you're no longer just my student. I'm not your sensei anymore. You've surpassed me in wisdom and kindness. You're more than my equal now." He delicately brushed a strand of hair from your face, his gorgeously dark gaze meeting your watery eyes. "What I mean, y/n, is that you deserve a life free from the dangers I've attracted. As I'll be hunted, I want you to be safe. I trust Gojo to protect you until I return." Tears streamed down your face, making you speechless. Another sound echoed from the mall, but Geto remained composed as he continued: "You'll go with Gojo. Train at Jujutsu High School. Grow stronger, and we'll meet again. I'm certain." His words were clear, leaving no room for an argument. You nodded, sniffling, "I'll miss you terribly. Please take care." Geto nodded back, a soft smile gracing his lips. Gently tucking your hair behind your ear, he placed a tender kiss on your forehead before nudging you toward Gojo, who put an arm around you immediately.
As Geto stood up, he glanced at Gojo, "Take care of y/n. Without her, I'd be devoid of my humanity." - "I promise," Gojo affirmed. You brushed away your tears, whispering, "I'll make you proud, Geto." He raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You've surpassed that already, my love," he smiled warmly. Suddenly, the screech of an eagle pierced through the broken ceiling of the mall. In the next moment, it lifted Geto off the ground, perching him on its back. "Goodbye, y/n", Geto spoke softly. The eagle let out another cry and soared into the sky. The silhouette of Geto atop the eagle diminished until it vanished into the night. You gripped Gojo's hand, tears still cascading down your cheeks. "It's okay," Gojo murmured, "I'll stay by your side until better days arrive. And until then I have just the right classmates for you to help you find your new way at Jujutsu High." You gazed at him questioningly through the wet lashes of your tears. "What do you mean by that?", you asked suspiciously, "I don't think anyone would want to be friends with someone who was with a villain for that long." Upon the Jujutsu Sorcerer's lips, there appeared a subtle yet discernible grin. "I currently have three students- one of them had an aweful father- and the other one, well, ate his villain. So I think you'll be good." You stared at Gojo. That man was always good for a surprise it seemed. "Ate...him?", you asked in disbelief. Gojos grin was now clearly visible on his face. "Exactly. You see? I'm sure Getos golden girl-", he winked at you, "will fit in just fine!"
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I woke up this morning and saw I had a message in my inbox on AO3, presumably about by new fic, and was excited to see the feedback.
When I read what they wrote it was a small comment that said "stop using sudowrite".
Had no idea what that even means, so I had to look it up and found out it's some form of a writing AI.
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Absolutely fuming.
I want to make something abundantly clear right now:
I have not been hand writing and editing all of my own stories, hundreds of pages worth of personally hand written or hand typed content for the past 16 years, only to get accused of using any form of lazy ass writing AI now.
This is what I love to do. For fun.
I put in a lot of unpaid time, creativity and energy into my writing and editing. The only thing I ask for in return is participation from the fandoms I love, be it via thoughtful feedback or valid criticisms.
But this is neither of those things. This is just an outright, baseless lie against the art that I have worked so hard to make myself, and I won't be undermined or discredited.
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There's anger, and then there's whatever space I am occupying well past it right now.
It's infuriating to pour hours of my love, thought and creativity into original content only to have someone come out of nowhere and try to tell me I've been having an AI do it, especially 16 years deep.
Bitch please.
I also found out that app came out in 2020 . . . As I mentioned, I published my first K/S story in 2008 as Ruby JW on the K/S archives, and my first fanfic on fanfic.net was published in 2007 as luigi_is_stellar.
I invite anyone to peruse my decades-long collection of independent content that I have single-handedly accomplished well before such an app even existed, then come back to me and try to tell me that what I do here isn't authentic.
I don't usually get spicy, but when it comes to the art I spend hours writing and drawing independently with my own blood sweat and tears, yeah. I'm going to get spicy.
I do far too much unpaid work out of passion and love for this fandom to have such a serious accusation flung my way out of nowhere.
It's the first time in my 16 years of writing for this fandom that I've ever been accused of plagiarism, and you best trust and believe that I don't take that accusation lightly. I work too damn hard to let someone discredit the work I do personally in such a baseless manner.
Anyway, that was discouraging AF. I am boggled to learn that AI writing is even a thing, no less someone coming out of the woodwork to try to accuse me of using it 16 years into story publishing when I literally teach academic honesty and writing ethics in my line of paid work as an English professional.
Genuinely: Do you know who you're talking to?
A bit of background on me:
I come from a not-so-wealthy family who could not afford to pay to put me through school -- I paid for that all on my own. I had to earn my University English degree, one of four University degrees I hold on my own work and pay alone, without so much as a tutoring session or handout from home.
Not once would I have jeopardized everything I worked so hard and paid for out of my own pocket as a poor ass uni student working two jobs and doing night classes just to phone it in plagiarizing, not on one ounce of my work.
That was all me.
I've handwritten 3 MLA essays in under three hour exams BACK TO BACK, immediately followed by back-to-back Biology exams & a final lab where I ALSO had to write multiple essays and switch from MLA to APA mode within the span of 6 hours.
Those were all bound in handwritten yellow booklets well before we ever had Google Docs, Grammarly, formatting suggestions, or even regularly brought/had access to laptops in UNI. I did my work by hand.
I earned my degrees in English and Biology AT THE SAME TIME before I even turned 24. I earned a double major handwriting my own work papers like my life depended on it, and you actually think I'm about to phone it in now?
Step to me like that again, young blood. I ain't the one.😂
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Anyway, I digress.
Ya girl ain't here to fight BC y'all know I tend to be very easygoing, full of humour, and I love to joke around in the fandom. I'm pretty wide open to opposing opinions or even criticisms. But this is unfounded slander, and I won't be taking that on the chin.
When it comes to my work, I take that very seriously, and I don't play around. My late father once told me that "The work you do and the degrees you earn are yours and yours alone, they can never take that education from you." I live by that sentiment, and have done so by putting forth honest work.
Be it paid or unpaid work, it's my work. Periodt.
It is an unfathomably disheartening and insulting message to receive as someone who writes all their own stuff themselves, draws all their own fanart themselves, does their own photo edits themselves, edits their writing themselves, and has never even used so much as a single outside beta reader/editor for my work. Not once. The art, the writing, the editing -- It's all me.
Bottom line:
Say you do or don't like my work, that's cash money and we good, whether it's your cup of tea or not.
Butt know that it is my work.
I will not put all of this free time, effort and love into my work only to be accused of lazily ripping the content that I have spent hours writing and personally editing from somewhere else.
And on that note, consider my PSA rant ended.
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asmilethatshines · 2 months
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I have neglected my challenges for so long. I'll post 2 challenges in one post <3
1/ Test: Mello shows off his test result to Near, in which he scores A++ while Near scores an F (he handed in blank paper). The test is an essay about how great L is. And it happens in Mello's dream ha ha ha
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2/ Multitasking: Mello holds his baby while feeding him and working via phone (he is wearing an Airpod) at the same time.
Inspired by the fanfic "Isaac Keehl" by sandersonsister (they have "The Differences between us" and "Getting a second chance" which are also exceptional. In fact "Getting a second chance" is one of the reasons why I came back to the fandom. It's the first fic with alive Mello AU that I have ever read <3)
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What took me so long was that I tried to draw in the pixel style like the two goddesses Ng and Bel <3 mine look nothing like theirs except for the pixel lineart of course loool
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heartofaspen · 3 months
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flickrrposts · 5 months
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Black Hat is going to be Hypnotized by Heroes - Theory
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Why?: It'd be cool.
Okay, seriously, this could be nothing more than fanfic potential, but in case there's some small chance that I'm right about this, here are a few points on where I'm coming from.
#1 - Tension
This show has reaffirmed time and time again, in the show, comics, livestreams, interviews, that Black Hat is:
A, Powerful,
and B, Terrifying.
I don't think I need to go through evidence of that being the case, if you're familiar with the show at all, you know this.
He's been side-lined throughout the entire show, and it would not only be cathartic to finally have him show off his powers, but it would also make him feel like a real threat in the story if he's positioned against Flug, Dem, and 505.
The tension would be raised to infinity. The show would practically feel like a horror movie because of how near-impossible it would be to defeat him.
#2 - Goldheart's Plan
According to Miss Heed at the end of s1e6, Goldheart wants to "end all villainy."
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Black Hat controls all villainy.
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P.E.A.C.E. has already caught on to how deep Black Hat's rabbit hole goes, via the agents creating the Podemos Bailar website. (omg, with Magician being one of the agents, then Black Hat's hat is the "rabbit hole", it's like a pun, you get it? You get that-)
Before the third Arenque Noticias video, Melissa Lead states, "If you ask my objective opinion, I'd say a controlled villain is better than a villain set loose."
As observed by @paper-gold-theories, characters with gold accessories tend to be associated with Goldheart or the Golden Rule in some way (Miss Heed, Porccini, the reporter in s1e4).
Melissa wears a golden necklace and ring, so it's very likely that her opinions either align with the Golden Rule, or Goldheart himself.
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So if Goldheart's objective is to brainwash all villainy, then who better to target than the man at the top? (the man in the top-hat, haha, I'm on a roll)
#3 - Black Hat's Weaknesses
Alan has hinted that Black Hat is not invincible, and has actually described him as "lazy".
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So the concept of Black Hat slipping up is not an impossibility for the show to explore.
#4 - Details
This is getting into TJLC levels of analysis, but I've noticed a couple things that could somehow be foreshadowing this:
In this poster:
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Villains have a red outline, and heroes have blue:
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(The fact that Flug and 505 have blue is an analysis for a whole other day)
But Black Hat has a gold-ish color on both sides:
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This could be a stretch, but,,
In 2021, promo art was released for the show:
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And Black Hat's monocle looks suspiciously pink.
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Sure this could just be red shading that accidentally looks pink, but it isn't that hard to edit if the colors came out wrong, I did it just now:
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The difference is night and day:
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I don't think Black Hat has ever been associated with pink before outside of Demencia's fantasies. It would have been easy to choose any other colors too, like green, yellow, orange, or even blue.
The Black Hat being lit with pink for the first time is a coincidence in the very same promo that ALSO includes Miss Heed.
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And as is obvious, ALL of the people Heed hypnotizes have glowing-pink eyes:
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Even if this isn't foreshadowing to my specific fan-theory, I find a Black Hat - Heed connection extremely suspicious.
It's very well that in this scene, Flug DID perfect Heed's formula.
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The heroes have the perfect hypnotizing formula. Or at least they still have some version now.
They have the means.
So TL;DR, Flug perfected Heed's hypnotizing formula, and so P.E.A.C.E./The Golden Rule/Goldheart is going to use it to control Black Hat when his guard's down.
(or somethin like that, idk)
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Note
Hi! Would you be able to do a Nizea x reader. Nizea overworking himself so much that he ends up sick but is stubborn about it until it gets really bad and then reader takes care of him? Thank you!!
I'm assuming that "Nizea" is "Nozel" ^^' Apologies if it isn't ^^'
But I was in mood for some Nozel writing, so I hope y'all enjoy!
Pairing: Nozel x gn!reader Genre: Fluff (or hurt-comfort??) Fanfic type: Oneshot Contains: reader has feelings of annoyance about how much Nozel needs to work, the word "hell" is used one as an expiration, Nozel being stubborn and reader tries to get him to rest, a lot of beckoning and reasoning with Nozel, Nozel is referred in one part as "braid-face" but he's also "[my] braid-face" so affectionate, sleepy Nozel, he thanks reader at the end, a bit romantic Word count: ~1.9k
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You sighed. It was a heavy, heavy sigh that made you lean back in your chair and stare at the ceiling, giving your eyes a moment of rest from staring the text right in front of you. And with the motion, your body bending backwards and your eyes lifting up, it almost felt as if tension was flowing down and gathering to your feet. Which... wasn’t still exactly comfortable or relaxing, but it was better than staying slouched over your desk.
Though you knew that you shouldn’t slouch. Or study too much continuously. Take breaks. Drink water. Stretch and move. All of this you knew. What you were supposed to do.
But somehow, you never got around to it. You kept on doing the same thing as before. Maybe because it had worked this far, so why wouldn’t it continue working from here on?
Though... as your eyes fell back down, without focus, as if staring nowhere while you became immersed into your own thoughts, you thought about how you barely had time for anything else in life than this. Working. Reading. Studying. Going through all these papers and text and notes and... everything that came with it.
Sure, it was useful. And you wanted to do this, help the squad and do your part.
Hell, you knew that Nozel worked harder. He might not have seemed like the type outwards; a hard worker. Rather someone who just had gotten the job via family connections and had it easy because of his excessive mana pool. But in reality, he worked harder than most.
Both when it came to his own magic, as well as governing the squad.
So... maybe... maybe you shouldn’t complain. About how it was hard. And tiring. Because... you did want to do this. Too. It was just that... sometimes you didn’t want to do it so much.
You wanted to live a little. More. Live a bit more.
Live with Nozel.
But he had his convictions and responsibilities, so while he was caught up with that, you might just as well make your time useful. Though... life wasn’t all about being useful. Life was meant to be lived.
Your eyes turned to the candle on your desk, ready to burn out. And somehow, as ludicrous as it might have sounded, it felt like the candle was mocking you. Or maybe telling you something. In any case, you found yourself becoming irritated by that candle. About how it was burning out.
About how a certain braid-face was burning himself out.
Because, he might have been a braid-face, but he was your braid face. As questionable as his fashion choices might have been, he had a heart of gold. Deep down, under all the layers of struggling to communicate his feelings.
He was too precious to burn himself out before he was even 30.
And so, you got up, and marched out of the library with a quest to find your beloved.
Most likely he would be in his office, so that was your first destination. And it wasn’t too far from the library, since there might have been a need to revise some books for work purposes. So, it didn’t take a long time for you to get there.
You knocked on the door haphazardly before already opening the door, squeezing the door handle while still feeling that irritation bubbling and swirling inside of you. And all because of that stupid candle and what it meant for you.
“What is the meaning of-“ he managed, but stopped, seeing that it was you.
And you... you stopped because of the sight in front of you.
Nozel was ... looking like himself. Only that the bags under his eyes were worse, and he was slightly slouched, wearing his cape, which... he rarely did while sitting in his chair, because it got too hot. But his eyes... they were so, so very tired. Tired and somehow still held that stubborn glare that he often had.
The next thing he did, was sigh, before speaking out. “I’ll come to bed when I’ve finished this,” he told you while directing his gaze back onto the paper in front of him.
“What do you mean when ‘you’ve finished this’?” You asked, having concluded to yourself that he wasn’t well.
He let out a hum, and quirked an eyebrow at you, but didn’t say anything.
“You look sick. When was the last time you ate? Are you feeling feverish? And how much sleep did you get last night?”
“More than the night before,” he answered, which wasn’t all that informative, because he got up before you did.
So, you crossed your arms, expecting him to elaborate on his answer.
Which he didn’t, perhaps because he knew that you wouldn’t like the answer. And he’d have to hear about it.
Instead, he turned his eyes back down and begun writing.
“I take it that you barely did. Any of those things,” you told him with a sigh of your own and pushed the door closed behind you.
Annoyance and contesting him would get you nowhere, you knew as much. Sure, Nozel was sensible and would talk out a lot of things, if he saw it necessary and or beneficial, but it didn’t mean that he’d respond well to being contested. Even by you. At least not directly, and as blatantly as one might imagine contesting to take place.
“Look...” you continued while circling around his table as your arms fell down to your sides, only for your right hand to lift back up so that it might land onto his forehead.
His braid brushed against your skin as your fingertips came in contact with his damp and warm forehead; a touch away from which he didn’t move. If anything, it felt almost as if he was leaning into it, sinking into the sensation of your touch. Under your hand, and what it meant for him.
“Your hand feels cold,” he told with a hushed tone, gaze barely lifting from his desk and to glance at you from the corner of his eyes.
“No,” you replied with a small shake of your head and a tender tone. “Your forehead is burning up.”
His eyelids closed, as if in a silent prayer, and he swallowed. Because, he was caught.
“I cannot be sick,” he finally said, after a pause, sounding tired, and defeated, but also adamant and stubborn.
He was strange like that. He held a lot of paradoxes within himself.
And you knew that he had gotten where he was because of that stubbornness. By refusing to give in. Which was one of the things that you loved about him.
“No one asked if you can or cannot. That’s how life works,” you told him as your left hand found its way onto his chest, and slid across the fluff of his cape lower, as if looking to engulf him into an embrace. “You’re sick no matter whether you can, or cannot. No one asks for it, but it needs to be taken care of regardless.”
And for a moment, it felt like he was taking a deep breath, and succumbing to it; the lure of a comfortable bed. Maybe some warm soup and rest; sleeping by your side. But then he tensed up under your arms again.
“I still need to finish this,” he replied, the all too familiar determination clear in his tone. “You go ahead, and I’ll-“
“We’ll go together,” you told him. “You’re not in this alone, and you need to be well, so that you can do your job properly.”
His eyes turned back to you, even if only barely, as if inspecting how much of that determination of yours was in your gaze. But he kept his silence.
“And... the way you’re headed, makes me fear that you’ll have a heart attack when you’re 30.” It was a slight exaggeration, but not much. “I was planning on spending the rest of my life with you. I’d hate to have it so short-lived.”
“The life of a knight is dangerous,” his eyes closed in a slow blink, but his tone was again hushed, speaking of his willingness to give in, little by little. Only little by little, because he was bad at simply rolling over and admitting defeat.
“So why ad to that danger? Do you not seek to minimize all hazards, hm? And what about the family we’ve talked about?” The last one was a tad bit of a cheap shot.
But if it’d get him in bed and resting, you’d take it.
He took a deep breath under your touch, which told you that he was getting there. He was giving in. All it needed was a little nudge more.
“And I miss you,” you cooed while giving his temple a small kiss.
He sighed, and relaxed, as if melting in your arms.
You had won. And the notion of victory made the corners of your lips tug up.
“Alright...” he whispered while getting up from his seat, during which you tried to swallow some of the smile you were wearing. Because you didn’t want to seem too happy about your triumph. Happy, yes, but not too happy.
And yet, as he had barely gotten up from his seat, you took his hand, gentle and secure and begun leading him to your bedroom.
“I’ll ask for some soup and something for you to drink before we go sleep, because you need to keep your strength up,” you glanced to him over your shoulder as your steps bounced off the walls. “Then you’ll sleep, as long as you need. I’ll send a word to the headquarters and ask Nils to take on your duties, as much as he can, for a while.”
A frown climbed onto his brows, because he hated feeling useless. You knew as much. But he wasn’t. He simply needed rest and time to heal. After all, he was only human.
“I’m willing to bet that he’s grateful for your return, after you’ve healed. Because you do your job the best,” you told him, soothing his feelings a little, and giving him a small smile.
And a faint smile settled onto his lips as well, which was accompanied by a nod. Without a word. Just a smile. But that smile told you just how much those words meant to him in that moment. Just how precious they were along with what they meant.
Your journey continued in silence, and you slipped out of the bedroom just long enough to ask for some soup and drink for Nozel as he took a shower and changed into his pyjamas. And as he ate, you took yours, so that once you slipped under the covers, and he buried his face to your chest, seeking your comfort and warmth, all was well.
You let your fingers glide through his hair as his chest rose and fell in a steady manner as sleep was overtaking him. But before it did, you heard a soft and silent “thank you”, which made your heart skip a beat, as a wave of the most tender of emotions washed over you.
“You’re welcome, my silver prince,” you whispered back, unsure if he had already fallen asleep or not. But, somehow, you were certain that he heard you, even if he had.
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shegatsby · 1 year
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Hi! I saw your requests are open, so I thought I ask for a hannibal x fem!reader. Can you write a short fic where Hannibal is kind of a sub with reader, if that makes sense. it doesn't have to be specifically sexual, anything you are comfortable with.
<3
A/n; hi! Thank you for this request, i enjoyed writing it. The fact that i wrote this at work and had to explain my co-worker that im a fanfic author… he was shooketh lol Sorry for any typos cus im writing this on my phone.
It was a tiring day for you. Working at the FBI Quarters as an archive manager had its advantages and vice versa. You get to stay in the silent office of yours and enjoy the peace but every once in a while, a jerk who used his juice to get into the FBI would mess things up and you had to pick up the pieces, reorganize and relable the documents etc. Today you had to spend extra 2 hours to finish your job and call it a day. What made you relaxed as soon as you opened the door of your shared house with your partner was that the smell of your favorite food hitting your nostrils. Automatically made you smile to yourself. You may have mentioned the hectic situation at work via text to your boyfriend Hanninal.
Dr. Hanninal Lecter was a successful man whose profession was a psychiatrist but he also sometimes worked for Jack Crawford to solve murders by using his field’s tricks. To the outside he was a cold and collective man who seemed like he had neither the tolerance nor the capacity to love and be loved.
The first time you met was a disaster. You were carrying folders to Jack’s office for a murder case and you couldn’t see who was in front of you and you collided. Like waves to a shore, wild and unbidden.
You apologized for spilling the coffee he was holding seconds ago, you suggested to take him for a coffee and to your surprise he said yes.
He had a reputation in the FBI, behind his back they called him Lord StoneHeart. Well, “Lord” because of his manners and “Stone Heart” because no one saw him smile or mention a potential girlfriend or a wife. He was a complete mystery and you were the only one who get to see his true face. A dangerously protective man who would do anything for his lover, that would be you.
After that coffee date you and him kept being in the same place in the right time, parks, restaurants, shops etc. You had a feeling that he was stalking you and the mere idea of a respectable man such as Dr. Hannibal Lecter stalking you sent shivers down your spine,well, it got you wet every single time.
Your relationship progressed even more after you moved in with him, you’ve been together for 2 years and things were going smoothly, most of the time, you closed the door rather harshly and the sound echoed in the halls of your home. You could hear Hannibal’s Hildegard Von Bingen playlist coming from the kitchen so you followed the divine voice.
He was there, white apron tied to his waist, he must’ve left work early. He had comfortable clothes but he still looked elegant, he had a charming demeanour of a royal prince.
He moved away from the counter to face you, “Hello darling.” His genuine smile made your heart jump.
He quickly came to give you a gentle kiss on your forehead and took your coat and bag. “A warm bath with your favorite candles waiting for you upstairs. When you’re finished we’ll have dinner.” If you told your co-workers about how soft and sub he can be they would laugh at your face.
“Thank you.”
After the long bath you wore your pjs and joined him for dinner, he knew exactly how to cook your fav food and also how to serve it.
When you were done with dinner he did the dishes and then gave your feet a long massage. You didn’t notice how sore your feet were untill his big hands worked their magic. “Do you want me to talk to Jack, and have him do something about this man?”
His question had a dark tone, a hint, “No, I’m a big girl. I can handle it. Thank you though.” The fact that he was ready to make that jerk disappear or pay for his recklesness made you feel things.
You wanted to change the subject, “Wanna take me upstairs and show me a good time?”
He smirked at your boldness, “As you wish my love.”
Thank you for reading. ❤️
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taylorrepdetective · 6 months
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We went from “still just getting to know each other” to full on fanfic courtesy people mag in exactly 14 days. Do you think this could mean it will be short lived? Seems to be moving fast.
I don’t know what is going to happen because I don’t know what her goal is beyond simple publicity for the movie and 1989 tv (and just in general being seen dating a man which is important for her image and for selling music) and we’ll have to wait to see how it goes. I still stand by it likely to be short lived but whether that means November or March, your guess is good as mine. I think I’m currently leaning more in the March direction as being most likely, but it could be tomorrow or it could be forever or whatever she said in Blank Space.
In case anyone’s keeping count, I also have pretty much settled on all of this being well planned out in advance, including his appearance at the July KC tour in the first place. I wouldn’t be surprised if it had been planned for a very long time, just like Matty was.
1) have them linked publicly (for Travis it was the concert and friendship bracelet digits story). Sit back and watch the reaction, and give it a bit of a push in the right direction. With joe this was all done retroactively, after their relationship was “accidentally” leaked we found out they hung out in Oct. With Matty this was done over the course of late 2022-early 2023.
2) soft launch it by announcing an appearance ahead of time to get all eyes on it, while planting stories that they’ve hung out a few times, to establish a timeline back into the summer (august 1ish). Have her publicly meet his mom and get her approval. Again, with joe this was done retroactively, where we found out she had pined over him all summer and their anniversary was sept 28, and we’ve even now got a hook up on Aril 29. For Matty, she met his mom in stage 1), then this stage was her announcing the break up on Matty’s bday, and then planting stories that they were dating, that he’d go to Nash and there’d be PDA, and then stories that she thought maybe he was the one who got away, and had quietly been in love with him for almost a decade.
3) launch, but keep it casual. There’s still time to back out if things go poorly. People have time to get used to it and talk about “are they or aren’t they” serious, and you can control the narrative via media outlets and inside sources to set people up the way you want them to lean, all without even having them seen together more than once or twice. Set up a casual photo of them that seems to taken without their knowledge in a private moment. (Balcony with joe, private club with Matty, after party in KC with Travis.) This is far as she got with Matty then she cut her losses. Or I guess you could argue they had spilled into step 4). It’s a spectrum. With joe, again this was done retroactively but also the summer of 2017, no one knew how serious they were until secret sessions/rep came out.
4) hard launch during movie opening weekend. WE ARE HERE. For Matty this was probably supposed to happen during speak now release. But who knows. For joe it was reputation’s release.
5) Optional: push things hard until enough people seem to be generally getting tired of it. I assume this is next with Travlor. No idea how long this will last. Days or weeks I think. With joe this wasn’t a big deal because of the privacy narrative. No one could get tired of something they never saw (though they could get bored of it which was ok at that stage but boredom is the opposite of what she wants now.) With Travis I think this stage will be more of an important thing. If you go back to Calvin, this stage was most of their relationship.
6) cool things down so then people talk about “are they or aren’t they still together?” This was a constant with joe. I think this was just at the end for Calvin and the answer was they weren’t still together.
7) relaunch so everyone is excited to see them again. Steps 6-7 happened a lot with Joe naturally because of the privacy narrative. Will travlor get to this stage? I think so but it will be much accelerated. Like nothing for a week and people will wonder. Then, bang, she’s there again. Something like that.
8) ongoing: periodically lightly escalate the seriousness of the relationship. We’re already in this stage and it will continue. There is current chatter about her house shopping in KC. The usual (she actually BOUGHT a house one time for a man. And remember her Scottish castle, and how she and joe were constantly buying a London house for 6 years including furniture shopping right before they broke up?) And there will be constant talk of settling down and getting engaged.
9) and on and on until it ends. We could zoom through these stage over the next 2 weeks, or in seemingly endless loop of stages 6-9 for two years. No way to know until it ends or they get married, have 10 kids and teach them how to dream.
10) optional: black swan event. All bets are off.
I think it’s likely she’ll go to a couple of more games, and be seen spending as much time with him as reasonably possible before her next tour date. They need to “get to know each other” and “enjoy this fun honeymoon stage while they’re both smitten” while she can. Keep in mind her SA tour section is only 3 weeks long, and he could even potentially go to Argentina on his off week, so that’s not really enough time for the “their busy schedules were too much” excuse. Possible but you know not as likely. Then she’s off for for a couple of months again. Imagine the fun they can have over Christmas. We’ll skip the island vacation around new years or star-studded New Year’s party this time because he’ll still be playing football, so imagine her at playoff games. She’s getting literal millions of dollars in almost free publicity from this, and no matter how many people want to say she’s getting negative attention or being over-exposed or whatever, I don’t see it that way at all. It’s going very very well. All for the price of a few hours of her time and some jet fuel. So, like I didn’t see any reason for her to end it with joe because he was serving his purpose, I see no reason for this to end. Until she has reached her unknown-to-us goal.
There is a lot I can’t see or know, so these are just my best guesses based on what we’ve seen so far and what I see on their schedule for the next few months, and of course, my belief that this relationship not real.
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writing-for-life · 2 months
Text
Keeping Them In Character...
It’s so interesting what you wrote about fixing Morpheus in the other post, @rriavian. I didn't want to take that one too off topic, hence I made a new one. I hope this is okay, because I love talking about these things, especially with other writers (everyone who reads this, writer or not, feel free to join in). I think I’ve said this somewhere else before (can’t remember where): If we keep him in character, there is no fixing him anyway.
But fanfic wouldn’t be fanfic without those attempts, and I totally get why. I want a different ending for him, too, alas, not in canon, even if that might sound contradictory. If they touched the ending in the show, I’d honestly be pissed off, but that’s my personal problem, and Neil can do with it whatever he wants—it’s his story. So I guess every fic that sees him alive at the end starts with the premise that we have to bend him into shape ever so slightly to make it possible. To me though, there’s a world of a difference between that and basically turning him into an OC with no resemblance to Morpheus bar name and looks (not saying that isn’t fair, it’s just not for me because if I wanted that, I’d write an OC, because that’s what he would be to me).
Morpheus is not weak. I even get why some people who mainly came to the Sandman via the show might be drawn into that direction initially, because we obviously see him very low at the beginning (I’m hesitant to say “at his lowest”). But after that, he pretty much stands in his power again (with ups and down obvs)—a power that burdens him for a multitude of reasons I don’t want to go into now, otherwise I’ll still sit here tomorrow. Wrote about it a million times though.
I think the fundamental misunderstanding is that anyone can fix him. So whoever we pair up with him can only walk with him, but he’ll need to take the steps himself, and more importantly: He would need a reason to want to do that. And yes, that’s exactly what my OC tells him at some point because she suffers, and she’s done with it despite understanding him on a deep level and accepting who and what he is—I think you're right when you say there’s a tendency in fandom to turn one half of the relationship into some kind of martyr and/or “void filler” to save someone. And the tricky thing about Morpheus is: He actually is looking for something to fill a void (which, to stress that again, doesn't mean he isn't powerful, so it's not to be mistaken for general weakness). And both in The Sandman and in real life, that never leads to anything good, but I can see why it's tempting to fall into that trap because his character lends itself particularly well to that type of trope (and I even play around with that in the first part of my fic, but it was also clear to me that it won't end there).
Now, this obviously isn’t real life, a story doesn’t necessarily have to lead to something good, but the most important question, to me, was always: What would make him take said steps himself, and above all: WANT to take them? Because truly, that’s where it all falls down in canon. And there is enough scope to explore that in quite a few different ways in my view.
For me, it was always clear that it can never be through wanting to change who or what he is on a fundamental level (that’s why I’m not into retired!Dream AUs, because they would fundamentally change who he is. Again, totally fine if people want to explore that, it's just not for me). I honestly believe he would bristle at that and recoil/retreat. Because it would just add to what is at the core of his very dilemma: If you want to change who and what he is, you basically admit you don’t truly understand him (not even those closest to him truly do), and that’s part of what breaks him (I say “part”, because there are more things in the mix than one can shake a stick at). And there is a clear difference between his being capable of change (we all know he is) and wanting to change him. They are not one and the same, but sometimes, fandom treats them as if they were.
Misunderstanding him, misinterpreting him is inherent to his being: He is Dream—forever out of reach, forever nebulous and unreal and weird and prone to be misunderstood/misinterpreted unless you stop trying and just trust the process/intuition--otherwise, it wouldn’t be (a) D/dream. It truly applies to all that he is. And you see what happens when he tries to rationalise things himself: Although he understands the boundaries between dreams and reality and keeps them in place, he is UNreality, and forever will be. And the way that gets ignored in fandom sometimes baffles me. Although it also doesn’t, because of course we’re human, and we want things to be real.
Back to those steps: I personally think he would never take them for himself because he doesn’t believe he has a story, and outright centring himself as the main character who is in charge of his own story is something he will always deny himself. But I think that’s also the way in? Because if he could perceive, at least initially, that he is part of someone else’s story and that they WANT him in that story (all that he is and isn’t, including all that is broken) with full acceptance but without complete self-denial. That they don’t try to change him, because they understand what the unreal is (and that requires a very particular type of person). That he would want to try because the love he has for them weighs heavier than how little he loves himself (was it you, @stellerssong who recently also wrote something along those lines, or am I making that up?). And that by doing that, he gradually learns to see himself through someone else's eyes. And once on that path, he would maybe, just maybe, start to understand that indeed he has a story of his own, and that he might be able if not to entirely rewrite, but at least to keep on writing it from this moment onward. Like everyone who believes (because believing something is possible means trusting in it despite it not being real, and trusting in the process rather than the result. He knows the power this wields over everyone but himself--not because it’s not true for him but because he won’t allow it. But maybe he could get himself to a stage where he allows it). That it's not about fixing anything really, but growing enough around what's broken and always will be, instead of trying to make it smaller or go away.
Yes, I do believe that might be possible, although there's much more to it than I've written here because it's incredibly complex, and it requires a lot of give and take, compromise and yes, pain along the way. And maybe it might not work at all (I never really 100% know where I end up when I write because my characters always, always make those decisions for me, and despite setting out with a plan, I almost never end up where I had initially intended to go. So if you asked me today, I couldn’t promise that I truly know where my current WiP is going and who will be where at its end, and it is very frustrating at times because I’m not always happy with what these guys are doing. At the moment, I'm truly not). But I believe he would at least try if someone who allowed for those dynamics were around. And that’s why I wrote an OC, because while I can see one or two canon characters that get fairly close to what I'd envision (and none of them are one half of the bigger ships), I ultimately couldn’t do it with them because there was something in their established dynamics that threw it off for me. Unless I would have pulled at least one of them (probably both) OOC to a degree that felt too much for me. But I'm always super interested in other people's process and line of thinking.
But yeah, that’s the precarious dance between trying to keep him in character while also working towards a different ending (that's obviously far less of a problem in one-shots). If that will ever work—who knows…
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Text
Modern Thranduil x anxious reader
Caged birds with broken wings
Chapter 1:
A Dance with tardiness
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Synopsis: An antisocial, anxious writer in her early 20s attends a ballet class under the teachings of a mysterious, reserved, austere dance instructor. They form an unlikely within their solace and past.
Warnings: mentions of blood
Chapter 2
A/n: This fanfic doesn't follow along the lines of the hobbit but rather a loosely spin-off au that only uses some characters. I do not own the right to them as they are Tolkien's characters and I respect his creation. (even if the characters might be ooc). Feel free to comment, reblog and like. Let me know if you'd like a chapter 2.
I tended to daydream often, more so when I listened to the music. The tune and tone of the song that played one after the other sent me to the realms I immersed; typically, anyone would daydream into another realm far better than their own: a princess, pirate, elf, fae—anything. My imagination is my realm of comfort, a sealed bubble that I can freely roam however I wish. Unfortunately, within fantasy, we must face reality. Within my reality, I’m not much of an importance, at least not one to have a whole written memoir about. I’m more of one of those faces you’d pass by in the street or grocery store, not giving any second thought to. Though I’d prefer it that way, I’m not much of a talker but rather a writer; I’m more fluent in my words than my speaking. Every attempt I’ve made, I’ve stumbled or become still; my chest would rise heavily and lower deeply. I always asked how people can do it, how they can speak—talk—communicate like it’s a piece of cake. I’d rather shroud myself in my isolation than speak to another living being.
At my desk, in my somewhat clean apartment, I was planning my next latest story in a saga of 3 books. So far, I’ve managed to get in contact with a publishing company via email who were willing to get behind the idea of a feature-length young-adult romance novel, a romance novel about a pirate king and a fae queen. The first chapter was still relatively underdeveloped, yet I’m willing to spend an entire day finishing it. I had only five months to publish the entire chapters. I’ve been a fantasy fan ever since I was a child. To me, fantasy is what the word impossible turned into possible. For ten years, I’ve been writing, and never once has it stripped me of what I truly adore.  
Whilst my fingers pressed against the keys on my keyboard, I received a text message on my phone from the side of my desk surrounded by papers. It was from my mom, who was wondering about my well-being. As always, I respond with the usual ‘everything’s going well—I’m pumping out new chapters for my new novel, ‘A Puncture in Time’, you know—the one with pirates and fantasy, new chapters soon to come ;)’. Even though she’s smart enough to see through my little façade, she writes back, ‘Hey listen, I know it’s hard right now, but I can assure you, things will get better; it just takes practice; I know you’ll meet someone you’ll find it easy to talk to’. I sighed heavily; within her words, I have faith, yet doubt. Should I choose to believe her, bite the bullet and try to speak up or wallow in a lie that can send her mind at ease? Before I wrote back, she sent a post with a link. I furrowed my brows as curiosity swelled my thoughts, my finger tapped the link. It was an ad. An ad for ballet classes. I thought it odd why she would send me something like this: I’m no dancer; I’m certainly no ballerina.
I replied with a question mark ‘?’.
A message bubble popped up: ‘…’ I awaited her reply.
As she was still typing, I took the liberty of glancing through the ad quickly. The tab loaded with a cursive font in bold ‘Les danseuses se réjouissent’. Scrolling past the stock images of ballet dancers, I came across a small section of different levels offered: beginner, Intermediate, and advanced. My mind raced with doubt; I had no experience in ballet, at least not since I was a young child. I wondered to myself, ‘Do I really want to take this? After all, I’m not exactly one for groups’. However, my mind was put at ease when my eyes came across an option for ‘one-on-one private lessons’. At least, I wouldn’t be with people who were far more experienced—let alone a group; the thought of many eyes staring at me—would have my heart sink. As I clicked the option, I was astounded; there were no reviews, pictures, or even a description of the instructor. I was sceptical. Surely, if you were to teach a class, you’d have at least a brief introduction of yourself. Even as an author, I have a concise introduction in my publications. I lightly sighed, weighing my options; on the one hand, it’ll please my mom, get me out of the apartment, and keep me fit; on the other hand, despite being private, I’m meeting someone I don’t know. Who knows what this person’s intention is, even if it’s for a class.
Finally, I heard a ‘ding’ as she replied, ‘Please try, at least for me; it’ll be good for your health, and you once mentioned you wanted to be a ballerina. I know the world isn’t always what we want it to be, but I know you can make it shine; I’ve seen it in your novels; give this a chance, give them a chance, to show them how you can shine, because I know you’ll be the brightest star there :).’
My eyes softened as I read every word; I couldn’t deny she had a way of getting through to me. She was always a caring woman, along with my dad. They were the only two people I could speak to without pressure or the weight in my chest.
I pressed back onto the tab with the private lessons. I clicked to see the booking dates—there’s an option to book for tomorrow, and the price is only $45 per lesson. For the price, it wasn’t too bad; yet still expensive. I filled in the details required to send the booking through, yet my finger hovered as I was about to press ‘confirm’. My mind came to a tussle of thoughts and hesitations; this would be the first time, in a long time, that I would speak face-to-face with an actual living being. However, I recalled Mom's words, ‘Because I know you’ll be the brightest star there’.
Breathing in—I pushed it, I pressed confirm.
I did it. I’m going to attend a ballet class. My head slowly lowers onto my desk, surrounded by papers. My hair dangled over my forehead. The adrenaline that reached the height of my mentality came crashing down. It’s like going on a rollercoaster you didn’t ask for, coming from the highest point of the rail down to the pit below. I start to feel light-headed. I want to sleep. I want to stay here. Perhaps I’ve made a mistake. What if this doesn’t work out?
I rose slowly from my desk chair, picked up my phone, and texted, ‘I’ve booked lessons for tomorrow…I hope you're right about this.’
I watched as once more, awaiting her response, ‘…’
‘Oh, I’m so happy, you’ll fit right in, I know it :)’ she texted.
I didn’t respond. She’s pleased, at least.
I decided to call it a night; I’ve had enough pressure for one day. I logged off, cleaned the papers on my desk, pushed them into a neat-ish pile and headed to the bathroom to shower. As I opened the door, I went inside to set down my pyjamas by the medium-small bathtub’s acrylic side rim. My bathroom isn’t big exactly, but neither is it small. It’s moderate for what it was: a bathtub, shower, toilet, sink, and a medium-sized mirror in the same room. It’s not precisely palace material, but it helps soothe my thoughts. I held my hand out as I turned on the shower, feeling the trickling water against my skin. The temperature quickly changed from cold to warm in just five seconds. Once I was satisfied, I stripped bare, sliding my long-sleeved green shirt off and sliding my darker tracksuit pants. I tossed my unmentionables inside the bathtub. I stepped inside the shower, allowing the warm water to run freely down my skin. I shut the shower enough to have a slit entrance still. I grabbed the soap, rubbing it over my skin, arms, legs, and body. I splashed water on my face as the water rinsed the suds away. I hovered my hands in my eyesight, glancing closer at my fingers. I could see the redness and patches from where I’d picked my skin; it’s a habit I developed since childhood. The habit would annoy Mom, often whispering or saying straight, “Stop picking”, even touching my hand to remind me. Unfortunately, this habit hasn’t subsided; I sometimes even look at my skin with little care, picking the cuticles or rough patches.
Once I finished scrubbing my body with soap, I turned off the water and opened the shower door to step onto the bathmat. I grabbed a towel from the single towel rack located beside the shower. I dried my body, running the towel over my skin. As I wrapped the towel around my body, I glanced at my face in the mirror above the sink. They say eyes are the most expressive in emotion. My narrowed, pinkish lips thinned.
I snapped out of my gaze, continuing to slip on my long blue pants decorated in owl prints, then, the next, a long-sleeve top with the basic purple on them topped with a giant owl embroidered in the front area. Owls have always resonated with me, whether it's their symbolism or captivating beauty. I placed the towel on the side of the bathtub’s rim. I picked up my previous clothes and took it into my bedroom. My bedroom was also medium sized, having a queen-sized bed and an oaken cupboard with a mirrored wardrobe. My room was decorated with tiny figurines I’d collect overtime, albeit from movies I’ve fancied or books. I placed the clothes in my hamper basket behind my door. My body relaxed when my eyes lingered toward my bed, the messy, deep blue sheets draped to the left side. I dismissed the thought of tucking them in for the time being, only plonking myself onto the mattress and wrapping myself within the single cotton sheets and doona drifting off.
Dreaming is the easy part, letting what visions came to my mind run wild. Sometimes, it’s suitable for inspiration, but other times, it's nightmares. The imagination is still enchanting, although, this time, it was peculiar. I was in a birdcage decorated with gold; the entrance was bolted shut; my hands gripped the golden rods holding the cage together. I tried to scream but to no avail. I tried to shake the cage, yet I was too small to provoke movement. My body lowered, feeling the coldness of the metal plate below. I had nothing but rosy ribbon pointe shoes. I suddenly felt myself, in no control, rise as though my limbs were attached to strings. I started to dance, my arms and legs stretching to fit the perfect movements. Eventually, I stopped mid-movement, standing on one leg while extending the other behind. I couldn’t move; I was frozen in place. I could do nothing but shut my eyes.
Suddenly, I woke up; my eyes fluttered open from the confusion I had just endured. Rising from the bed, I pondered for a few seconds. ‘What on earth did I dream about?’. My hands pressed against my face, trying to comprehend my dream and reality. I pulled the sheets off me and got up for the morning. A typical morning for me results in the usual routine: dressing, brushing my teeth and hair, and then looking forward to what the day offers me. Until I remembered that I had booked that class. I typically picked out green tracksuit pants with a white singlet, hoping that would suffice. I picked up my purse and headed out the door to my car. I entered inside, placing my purse in the front seat as I turned on the white car. I noticed outside that it started to snow. Snow is beautiful, especially the little snowflakes that fall into your hand and dissolve upon touch.
As the car started, I prepared to drive to wherever it was that awaited me. The location was further from where I lived; it must’ve been at least twenty-eight minutes. The drive wasn’t particularly bothersome for me; when you live in New York, you get used to the traffic.
As I drove, the snowflakes emerged in more significant numbers. Eventually, I found parking just next to the side of a café. I wasn’t aware if it was for the staff or guests. However, it seemed empty with only a few cars, so—if I get called out on it, I’ll move my car. No one seemed to notice, so I assumed I was okay. I grabbed my black parker from the back and zipped it up. Exiting the car, I stopped to admire the snow falling for a few seconds. It was January 4th, so the snow season was still here. My hands shoved in my pockets, beginning to wander toward where I needed to be. According to the ad, it was building ‘52’; it was vague, I know, but it was the details given. I trudged through the snow, seeing building after building, until I came across something with the number ‘52’, where I needed to be. My hand gripped the gold-looking handle attached to the glass door. As I entered, I came upon a staircase; I took one step after the other. I quickly glanced at the ad to see what floor it was on, yet to no avail. Was it the ‘4th floor? Oh god, oh god, please don’t resort to me asking someone. My fingers started to twitch; I raised one of my fingertips to my lips, feeling the rough patches. My thumb started scraping off the first layer, and small blood trickles formed. I ran my fingers over my lips again as I trailed up the stairs. I could feel my chest becoming heavier, my mind swell with thoughts of self-doubt. Suddenly, the anxiety soon started to subside as my eyes saw the sight of a door. My fingers hesitantly wrapped around the door handle; I took one breath in, trying to be brave. I pushed it open—only for my worst nightmare to come to life.
My breathing became heavier, my heart sank, my eyelids widened, and I could feel myself hyperventilating. There was a group of ballerinas staring directly at me. There must’ve been at least four? Five? Looking my way! Their ages varied, going into their late 20s.
The one brunette asked in French “es-tu perdu, cherches quelqu’un”.
I couldn’t concentrate; my mind dwelled with clouded thoughts of judgment. I pressed my finger against my lip, trying to feel the rough patches.
Another asked in English, “My friend asked if you’re searching for someone”.
Quickly, my eyes diverted to the ground, avoiding their gaze. “I-I-, pr-viate, less-on”. I stumbled over my words.
“Lessons? Private lessons?” the girl spoke once more.
I nodded, avoiding eye contact.
As I quickly glanced, a middle-aged woman in her mid-forties stepped closer; I assumed she was the dance teacher. “Are you referring to the private dance lessons advertised? the one taught by Mr. Oropherion?”.
I paused for a moment, trying to gather my words. Mr Oropherion? Is he the teacher I’m with?
“I-Is. This. Right. Floor.” I tried to sound out the right words, but it was impossible. Perhaps my conscience was right; perhaps this was a terrible idea.
The middle-aged woman, confused, pointed toward the direction I needed to go. “you’ll need to head up one more level, then head to your right” Her voice was calm with a hint of soprano.
Still avoiding eye contact, I left, not even saying thank you, focusing on wanting to escape. I closed the door in front and let out a heavy breath. My head lowered to touch the tip of my hands. I wanted to melt in that moment; I wanted nothing more than to return home. However, I reminded myself that I was doing this for Mom. I breathed in once more, looking up at the door; my hands quickly released, and I began to walk quickly, edging further up the stairs. My mind came crashing down, feeling the dreariness wash over me. Feeling tired, I finally, at last, came across the door I needed to be. It was blank, the painted white withering away around the edges. My hand reached the doorknob, feeling the roundness, turning it slightly. I could feel the adrenaline kick in. I was hesitant, but my nerves started to build.
I started to whisper to myself, “Just a general hello, that’s all it takes—
You're doing this for Mom—
Give them a chance to show them how I can shine; give them a chance to see who I am because I’ll be the brightest star there”.
 I breathed in, closing my eyes and opening the door. As I tried to force my eyes open, I was confused. There was no one here. It was an empty space surrounded by mirrors with bar beams attached to them. My eyes scanned the room, yet no one was there. I suppose I should be relieved, maybe the teacher had caught a sickness and decided to ditch the whole class. I wandered further inside; I might as well take a quick peek. I unzipped my black parker with a furry hood, tossed it on the coat hanger and took off my shoes, leaving my white socks on. I stood in the middle of the dance room, embracing the quiet ambience. I looked in the mirrors, reflecting my figure. Was this even what ballerinas wear? Who even is Mr. Oropherion? If he doesn’t show up in the next 15 minutes, I’m heading off and not returning.
Perhaps Aelwynn, the fae queen in my novel, would’ve also been able to dance freely and eloquently in movement. I still wonder what would entrance the pirate king Sarek Salazar. I never pictured him to be devilishly handsome, though. I suppose Aelwynn would be a beauty, but there must be more to it—beauty can only go so far in their bond; what would their obstacles or hardships be? Perhaps the fae queen is somewhat intertwined with difference, the opposite of a fairytale. Aelwynn is fair, kind, beautiful and strong; she meets all the criteria for something otherworldly, yet what if Sarek is her opposite, a beast? No—What if he was average, a gross-looking thing? Pirates are anyway; what if he wasn’t powerful, just an average man with greed—and the dynamic changes, challenging Sarek to choose between the love of his life or treasure?
Or he would choose—
Suddenly, I heard a male voice emit behind me: “You best have a thorough explanation, girl. Do not even think about squandering my precious time.”
My breathing became heavier as I realized someone was speaking to me. I did not turn around; I was afraid to. Instead, I avoided eye contact, too paralysed to move. My head stooped low, and my hands stood to the side. He spoke again, “Clearly, you are here for a reason, are you not? I’ll admit your intrusion is rather fatuous.”
I didn’t glance up; I couldn’t look; I needed time to gather the words to explain. What should I say? Hey, sir, some ballerinas told me to come here, and I fear speaking to people.
“I see you have a mouth; that means you must have a tongue. Go on, speak.” His voice was deep and tranquil, composed yet icy.
I took a deep breath in, slowly turning around. As my legs moved, I slowly gathered the courage to look into the man’s eyes, even if I muttered a ‘hello’. It would be enough. As my head glanced up to meet his, I noticed his appearance.
He—was like—something out of a fairytale. His face was lean and chiselled; his eyes were like ice; his blueish-greyish irises complemented his cold gaze. His hair tressed down like water reaching his chest, light like snow. Whilst his skin was pale in comparison, a fair tone in colour. His attire seemed far more affluent than mine, donning a black trench coat with white underneath. His trousers complimented the darkness of his coat, and his black loafers were polished. I glanced at his right finger, an oval-shaped ring with a diamond glass stone crafted in sterling silver.
“Did you hear me not the first-time girl?” his tone turned stern.
My mouth moved, finally finding the words to speak. “H-hello, I’m Y/n”.
 “y/n?” he muttered.
My eyes glanced downward once more as I slowly nodded.
“So, you have a voice after all, pray, tell. Why are you lingering in my domain?” he said shortly.
I muttered “private lessons”, though my voice sounded like a whisper.
“Ah, so you’ve seen the ad; I suppose you haven’t wasted our time after all, although you are five minutes late; I expect punctuality, to be exactly on time at the hour.” His voice sounded stern once more.
Well gee, it’s not like it’s my first time here, and gotten lost. My eyes still avoided his; I couldn’t look up, so I nodded.
He didn't react when I avoided his gaze, dismissing it. However, he commented on something else: “Your posture is lamentable. Stand up straighter like so.” The tip of his finger lightly touched my chin, lifting it to meet his gaze. I didn’t turn away precisely, yet I still flinched. My breathing slowed down as I once more met his gaze. His eyes narrowed, and his lips thinned.
“You stand there like a bird, wounded by the natures of evil, ignorant of the world’s knowledge, caged and sheltered from the shadows that lurk within the realm. Tell me, little bird, care to spread your wings?” I glanced at myself in the mirror, standing straighter. I could feel the flush in my cheeks, but I didn’t say anything, only breathing slowly.
 His finger pulled away, and he turned his back to me, walking away.
“I expect to see you here tomorrow at exactly the seventh hour of the night”.
“Do not make me regret my decision, or you shall return to the cage from where you came, little bird”, He muttered.
With that, he walked out of the room, distancing himself further and further away. At that moment, I stood in disbelief for a few seconds, trying to understand what had happened. However, once my thoughts were collected, I gathered my things and scurried out of there, wanting nothing more than to enter my car. Once I exited the building, I was hit with the coldness in temperature as it touched my face.
I opened the car door, tossing my things in the back, turning the engine on. I looked back, trying to see the building to the left. As I drove, my thoughts were plagued with astonishment. I didn’t look away; I maintained eye contact for longer than three seconds, and—I managed to speak my name without stumbling over my words. My emotions displayed were as if I’d seen a ghost. Yet—his face—his appearance—it reminded me of snow; I always loved snow; even when I was a child, it was the happiest of my memories. I recall when my parents took me to the park; I was fascinated by the sight of the winter wonderland, my face lighting up with delight and laughing with joy. I always find that snow rekindles the fond memories I have.
Perhaps Mom was right after all; this might be the start of something I’ve never been able to do. Talk.
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