A blog for talking about the fanfiction that I write. Except I don't actually post most of it because I'm a weenie. Interaction is welcome as long as it's appropriate.
Pro of writing for dead fandoms: You can basically do whatever you want and nobody will ever get mad at you because they don't exist or they're starving for any content whatsoever. Post your abandoned WIPs. Post your shitty outlines. Post your headcanons in bulletpoint format. Nothing matters
Con of writing for dead fandoms: Never knowing the joy of a comment
I still write, I just have... too many accounts. And immediately disown most of what I post. And seriously almost all of it is for dead fandoms. Ones that either died decades ago or were dead on arrival or the existing fanbase is too Gamer-brained to care about art. Seriously, more than one of them, I've joined a discord server focused on them, and tried talking about writing fanfic for it and just got the most confused reactions, like "why would you want to do that???" / "why would anyone read that???" etc.
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Iâve been going through a lot of my old work and deciding what to post.
I came across an old Kaitou Kid x OC concept. I donât think itâs worth posting on AO3, but I kind of wanted to acknowledge it somehow.
This was back when I was first experimenting with my own identity and trying to make sense of what the heck gender even is, and fiction is a pretty nice sandbox. So I had the Totally Original thought of having the OC be a target of a similar poison to Conan that instead changed her from female to male.
She sought the help of Kaito because he seemed extraordinarily capable, and extremely likely to eventually get on the bad side of the Black Organization, so heâd have reason to get involved. She becomes another of the people out to catch him. Although she does find out his identity as Kaito Kuroba fairly quickly, she insists that she wonât ask for his help until she can catch him as Kid, as she feels she has to earn his help.
I was basically writing babyâs first dysphoria. She didnât like the change of her body, and she felt like she couldnât go home. As the story would progress, she would slowly find more comfort in her new body. She felt a pressure to be a specific way before, both because she was a girl and because of her family that had high expectations for her future. The mess resulting from the poison gave her the chance to figure out who she is without that pressure. In the end, she still thinks of herself as a girl, but she associates her male body with her newfound freedom, so sheâs scared to go back.
I think it might have been interesting if I actually wrote more than cliffnotes. Especially since I even thought of a perfect surname that fell in line with the color-themed naming in that series.
One of the scenes would have been cutting her hair. She didnât realize that her hair had grown long again. It was hard to cut it the first time, so she wants to get it over with quickly now. Kaito would offer to cut it for her, but only if she let him play with it first since they donât know when itâll be safe to grow back out again. He ends up stalling, because he knows itâll be painful for her to cut it again. It would have been a tender moment.
One of the scenes in school would have had Kaito teaching her some basic sleight of hand. She starts off sad because sheâs clumsy with her new body, not nearly as coordinated as she used to be. When Kaitoâs done teaching her , he says heâs proud that sheâs getting used to it. Sheâs sad again because she doesnât know if she wants to âget used toâ this body, and also because sheâs finding that sheâs better at these things with this body--that she can do these kinds of things so much easier with these large hands that are so alien to her.
...You know what, Iâll post the end of that, since I did actually write it. Do keep in mind I wrote this more than 10 years ago, so the quality is kinda crap.
---
Kaito stole one of the tear-stained hands without a second thought.
"No matter what size and no matter what they may be capable of, I'll always like them." He laid a kiss on the palm before placing it against his cheek.
The shocked and flushed expression Minoru gazed with was met with a simple smile. Then, with one hand holding Minoruâs hand palm-up, Kaito conjured a normal-sized card and twirled it a bit before it seemed to turn into a deck of smaller cards. He placed the deck in Minoru's hand, still smiling.
"All people and all things come in different shapes and sizes. That goes for magic, too." As if to demonstrate, Kaito flexed his newly-empty hand. He first produced a large red rose that he pinned to Minoruâs shirt. He then produced a small fully-bloomed white gardenia that he fixed in Minoru's hair.
The tears started back up with different reason, a small smile breaking through. "Why do you even have all this stuff with you..." was the best Minoru could think of to say, clutching the cards tightly.
With a handkerchief pulled from his palm, Kaito began wiping away the tears. "Never know when a lovely maiden might need an extra smile."
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Summary:
You're a 4D being exploring your possibilities in life through Eternal Sphere. You didn't expect to grow so attached to a complex series of 0's and 1's.
An unfinished collection of scenes with Albel. I never even thought of a title for it, I'm sorry. Still very worth reading if you're interested in Albel.
I added all of my unfinished stuff to it, including outlines for how the rest would have gone, outlines for other OCs that would have been paired with De Nam and Bal Dat, and a little group of OCs that have their own plot going that you probably have no interest in.
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(Additional context: Reader character has been playing Eternal Sphere since they were a young teenager and has been aging in real-time with Albel. They are AFAB, playing a male character, and still not 100% sure what they identify as but suddenly being stripped of their high level, male avatar has not been fun.)
I was writing what was supposed to be a funny little aside for the AlbelxReader thing where the reader character has a height complex and considers maxing their height slider but this too has spiraled out of control into angst. They, now in their short real body after having lived the last 10 years being a big tall man in the game, are now possibly having a dysmorphia-induced panic attack after realizing there is suddenly a huge skill and strength gap between them and their peers and also being unable to reach the top shelf. Some other stuff factors in as well but weâll get to that.
I wish I had the guts to publicly ask questions like âIf I yanked out a perfectly healthy quill from a hedgehog, would it bleed?â but Iâm scared of the replies accusing me of animal abuse and having to say itâs for a book and then get asked âAre you writing Sonic fanfictionâ and then having to say âIâm the one asking the questions around here, shut upâ
The best advice Iâve ever received for writing smut is to write the first draft while youâre horny, then go back over it again when youâre very not horny to make it not awful. Then go back over it again while horny, and then again while sober. Repeat until both cumbrain and normalbrain are in agreement that itâs good.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Smoly hokes, I have done a 180. My sex scenes used to be almost nothing but emotion, hardly anything that anyone could find arousing. Any direct mention of anatomy took minutes for me to get the courage to type out (please, me, the word âcockâ isnât going to kill you). But this AlbelxReader thing is just bringing out the filth in me.
I also have poked at writing some HurdyxReader that was supposed to start off hopeful and sweet and slowly reveal that it was actually kind of horrifying in the "Oh my god what have I been doing" way but after revising it several times, it's just flat out horrifying the whole way through.
Before: Teehee dealing with an amnesiac isn't easy but my job is so rewarding! :O oh wait is he starting to retain memories? Oh what are these dokis... Maybe I can finally share my love for him-- OH GOD NO HE'S NOT GETTING BETTER, HE'S JUST BEEN WRITING SHIT DOWN, I'VE BEEN TAKING ADVANTAGE OF AN ILL MAN
Now: The things I have to do to keep him from hurting himself are in themselves terrible. Every morning is a coin flip for whether he'll trust me enough to not bolt the first chance he gets and I'm so fucking tired of chasing him down when he does run. I'm so fucking tired of only getting to hold his hand when I'm comforting him to sleep and lying that today's him isn't going to essentially die the moment he shuts his eyes. I love this kind mess of a man, but I wish I didn't, and that his alter ego would just overtake him at this point and put us both out of our misery.
I've been poking at writing some AlbelxReader for the past month or so. I got bored of trying to write it chronologically and just skipped to the p/rn.
Or at least I tried to. It started off as just disconnected sm/t but then it got infected with the plot from what I gave up on and it's spiralled out of control into angst and now I'm stuck writing a confession scene to stop a grief-fuelled scene of dubious consent from happening. How did this happen. it was supposed to be p/rn. IT WAS JUST SUPPOSED TO BE P/RN
Maybe I just value caring for unwell people more than s/x.
It does actually go over like a lot of the actions theyâre going through. Like, to be more clear about it, this is taking place over the span of about a year before and just after Albelâs dad dies. Theyâre still figuring themselves out as people during an already rough period of life, then have that happen. And the reader character is there to tend to Albel while he recovers and it just sucks. Like there was a bunch of s/xy domestic stuff the reader character would fantasize about and all of those things get horribly recontextualized as he needs help with so much during the worst of his recovery.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
This is the only other thing I have posted, which, like it says, I wrote while I was drunk. âLoosen Upâ isnât even the real title. The real title is meaningless without more context which I refuse to give. Meaningless in a not so fun way.
I didnât realize until I was posting it that it could be seen as potentially dater*pey, but it is very definitely not that. The POV character has a false reputation of sleeping around a lot, and he doesnât have any desire for the girl in this. He treats her like a sibling, and while sheâs mostly only annoyed at him, she also thinks of him as family in this.
That seems like a lot of tiny details for something based on a dream, but thatâs just how dreams go sometimes. A lot of unspoken and unseen details that you just know.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Like with Departure Arrival, this one was named after song lyrics. Unlike with Departure Arrival, itâs actually vaguely a songfic thatâs entirely related to the song itâs named for. The song was âSome Sick Dreamâ by Seraphim Shock. I listened to that and âDifferent Perspectiveâ/âTheme of Paulaâ from Shadows of the Damned the entire time I was writing. Theyâre pretty different songs and Iâd recommend both of them. Some Sick Dream is a slow, hypnotic gothic metal song. Different Perspective is a soft vocal-driven ballad that sounds like a lonely void. Listening to McGlynnâs vocals in that song makes me breathe. Thatâs an odd description to give it, isnât it? It just makes me breathe slower and deeper like Iâm drifting away.
You can catch bits of Some Sick Dreamâs lyrics throughout the fic, but I did kind of shoehorn them in. I started only meaning to take the lyrics for the title and nothing else, but then I had to make them DANCE in that garden I made.... So I just kept going. Bad me, bad. Anyway, the title of course refers to Wonderworld being a place where time doesnât really pass.
Beneath the willow tree
She beckons me deep inside
An autumn's chill witches spell
By candlelight legends cry
So sad the ghost behind her precious smile
So sad her haunted head
Blood covers time
On and on it goes, the devilâs play
Drift away
Stare into my eyes forever
Let me take you in my arms
Dance with me out in the garden
where tomorrow never comes
Follow me into the darkness
where the nightmares never fade
Whisper dreams my fallen angel
from which you will never wake
Alone, she's alone again
Scarlet rain
Alone, she's alone again
Roses fade
It was a very stream of consciousness type of thing. I just wrote some vignettes and called it a day without even trying to connect them. Then I came back and added to it, again and again. This was the best I could do to connect it all in a way that made it hopefully not only enoyable by me. I wonder if anyone actually enjoyed it in the end? It still reads like the crap I write but donât post because itâs just 100% self indulgence with no real structure.
