Don't ya just hate it when ya got so many au/idea concepts that ya just can't pick which one to work on, leaving you scattered all over the place? Me too.
Anyway, wrote a short lil something from one of my older concepts, Unwitting Idol. Hope ya enjoy it!!
Title: Suspicion
Suspicion:
Encountering fans of SMG4 was nothing new to SMG3. He had his fair share of them, being mistaken for his former rival in the past countless times by them. Nowadays, it was more of a rare occurrence; yet another benefit given thanks to their redesigns.
Annoying as they were, so long as they bought something from the cafe, 3 couldn't give less of a damn about them or what they liked.
But yet, there was something off about this particular group. Something that hadn't felt quite right about 4's so-called fan-club.
Most fans that SMG3 had encountered had been children or, at the very least, preteens; it hadn't occurred to him that there would be adults who enjoyed his rival's content, at least to the extent that this group had.
Second of all, something about the way they spoke about 4 rubbed the purple guardian the wrong way, speaking of 4 as if he was a god or or some other idol.
However, even though the whole thing sounded stupid, a little part of him couldn't help but feel a little bit creeped out over it.
I finished the Green Creek series a few days ago & the only way I can describe my love for it is the screaming/crying/throwing up meme.
So! Apparently I'm now writing fanfiction for a new fandom. If you want to read a little dive into Tanner's aromantisicm & friendship with Chris, here you go!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Summary: Peko only vaguely remembers the days when Fuyuhiko was an innocent, happy boy who would sing whenever he got the chance. Those times ended when they were kidnapped, all those years ago.
Read on AO3
Peko's memories of their younger years are vague, but filled with the sound of a little boy singing and laughing. The boy used to drag her along wherever he went, teaching her the nursery rhymes he learned through his mother or teachers and telling her all sorts of stories, both fairy tales and true. He was young and carefree, living the life of a normal boy and assuming that she was nothing more than a normal girl.
Then they were kidnapped. He was suddenly forced to realize something she'd been taught for as long as she could remember; he was a target, simply because of who his parents were. His parents' enemies didn't care how young he was, he was still somebody they would hurt if given the chance.
She got them home, though she had been scared and he was crying and then he saw her face and cried harder, but that couldn't undo the damage. His naive, happy boyhood was over. The singing that once filled her ears whenever they were together was replaced with silence and the stories he used to tell slowed to a stop too. He never grabbed her hand to pull her along, never laughed as he excitedly showed off his newest toy. The only time she got to see a small fragment of the boy he used to be was when they were alone and he would start to hum quietly to himself, but even that eventually stopped altogether. She blamed herself for it, and as the memories of his carefree days grew more distant she wished she could bring them back.
Age only made it worse, a crack growing between them that seemed irreparable. In middle school, he stopped treating her as an equal and a friend and she was selfishly heartbroken that he'd realized her station in his life. She was just a tool, and from the way he ordered her to leave him alone it seemed that she wasn't a valuable one, either.
She threw herself into her training, honing her skills until she thought he couldn't deny her usefulness. Yet, he still ordered her to pretend like they didn't know each other when they entered Hope's Peak. She obeyed, as painful as it was to still be unwanted after all the work she'd put in.
The killing game began and her time in it ended swiftly. Only just before her execution did she realize the error in her ways, the faults in her reasoning. Still, she woke up afterwards filled with memories of the things she'd done while she was a remnant of despair, the things he'd done, and she wondered if she had the right to see herself as a person. She was filled with guilt and horror as she remembered more and more, but the thing that made her feel the worst was that Fuyuhiko had become a remnant as well. What sort of tool would allow that? Just like how she failed to save his innocence when they were young, she had failed to protect him from himself when they were teenagers. Now she had to live with the guilt that he would forever struggle with the things he had done.
She could hardly remember how he sounded when he sang.
The healing process was long and painful, both physically and mentally. Fuyuhiko was given permission to leave the island long before her, but he chose to stay. He worked with her, helped her recover, and when she finally admitted her feelings for him he accepted her with open arms. Even with his help, it was another year before she was deemed fit to rejoin society. They left the island together, moving into a small apartment with faulty plumbing and flickering lights and an occasional mouse, and there they continued to live despite the pain they'd been through.
Months passed, and they laid in their bed together with as the city lights outside shone through the smog, enjoying silent company. Her eyes slipped shut as her cheek rested on Fuyuhiko's shoulder though she wasn't tired enough to fall asleep. His hand drew shapes onto her back, easing the phantom pains that sometimes tormented her still when she remembered her execution. Out of nowhere, he began humming softly and Peko quickly recognized the tune as one of the lullabies his mother used to sing to him.
She tilted her head to look up at him, her eyes meeting his as he kept humming. Eventually he paused, a smile on his lips.
"What?" He asked softly, as though speaking too loudly would break the peace of the room.
"I haven't heard you hum in...a decade, at least," she admitted, voice no louder than his, "I like it."
"Huh…" he thought for a moment, "I didn't realize I stopped."
She nodded, "You did. I'm happy that you started again, though. You sound so happy when you hum."
"I am happy, I have you here with me," he stated, then began to hum once more.
She stayed silent, listening intently and trying to memorize the sound of his voice as she placed a chaste kiss on his jaw.
That's how she eventually fell asleep, rocked into it by the sound of her love's voice and the feeling of soft circles drawn on her back.
It's been a while since posted something other than animal pictures and videos but my head's been in a weird place lately and I had to distance myself from fandom and everything related to it. And it's been...good? Good for my state of mind because I started writing again after a pretty long time. I'M WRITING!!! IM WRITING SOMETHING ORIGINAL!!! AND I'M SO FUCKING HAPPY ABOUT IT I COULD SCREAM. Writing has been difficult for so long I can't believe how fucking good it feels to write something, anything, but especially something original. It's still only a vague outline but my entire approach to this project is completely different to what I did in the past and it's relaxing and FUN. I'll be posting about it here and even though I'm hoping people will like and read it I'm enjoying this so much already. So. I hope you're all having some good times as well. Everyone deserves it.
Not sure at this point if yall still fw with SMG34 but I offer this update of my SMG34 Drabbles and Snippets collection fic (posted on AO3 and Wattpad) jic
Read Vampiro: Pesadilla from the story SMG34 Drabbles and Snippets by ZadrielAlexander (SpotODot) with 1 reads. smg34...
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
What’s this? I actually finished writing something?
I’ve been working on this fic for YEARS and it’s finally finished — to be honest (as you may have noticed), beyond the occasional reblog, I’m not very active within the HP fandom anymore. Partly because I’ve found other series to obsess over, and partly because of JKR herself. But this idea kept drawing me back, and finishing the fic felt almost like finishing a love letter to the fandom that first drew me in.
It’s Harry Potter meets The Proposal — here’s the link to the first couple of chapters!