#I should tag posts when I make them maybe

[that-one-girl2020]

Saja Boys x Rumi’s Sister! Reader Pt. 4

A/N: Hello all of you. Wow, you all keep popping out of the kpop woodwork but thank you for all the support! I love reading your comments! I decided to post this today since I was able to squeeze it out tonight.

Reminder for people, I can’t tag more than fifty people so the tag list is closed. But, feel free to share outtake ideas in the comments or dm me!

TW: Self mutilation (just scratching on the arms), insecurity, and toxic mentalities (Thanks Celine)

Word Count: 4,457

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

(Reminder: Baby = Jum, Romance = Chungae, Mystery = Hyeon, and Abby = Kwan)

That night, as the Saja Boys laid outside the venue for Huntr/x’s fan sign event, there was nothing for them to do but scroll on their phones or talk to each other. Each had a single sleeping bag and only Jinu had a chair to get more comfortable so the boys were a little miserable. But, needs must in war.

“Sooo… who else has been hardcore simping for (Y/n)?” Kwan suddenly asked to fill the quiet.

“Hardcore.”

“Yeah, same.”

“Yes.”

“Obviously.”

There was just something about you that called to them. Maybe it was the way you smiled or the way you laughed without restraint? The way you treated them with normal kindness despite knowing that they served Gwi Ma? The way Gwi Ma’s voice quieted when they were around you? The way you made them feel more human than they had in centuries?

There was more to say between them. Of course there was, they were fond of this half human, half demon girl and they were plotting to destroy her world and kill her sister and her friends. And the moment you told them your weakness, they would have to exploit it to make the Honmoon and the Hunters shatter.

The Saja Boys felt a creeping feeling of despair.

~~~

That morning, you had gotten the girls up and made them something to eat then let the wardrobe and makeup team up. Their outfits were already set out in the living area along with the girls' makeup. The girls hated this part, usually doing their own makeup but it kept appearances up when there was a team doing final checks on their appearances. And pampering them. It also gave more people more jobs.

It was totally chaotic and you caught yourself scratching every now and then before your focus was drawn to something else.

“Okay okay okay, girls, team, everyone down to the cars! Gotta get the venue set up!” Bobby ushered everyone toward the elevator, the girls and you going down first and Bobby would follow with the rest of the team. You were so thankful for a private garage. It kept rabid crowds of fans trek crowding them.

When they got there, they set up the tables and the posters quickly, you making last minute adjustments to their appearance. For fan sign events, you stood behind the girls to get them anything they needed and to take care of gifts the fan gave them to keep room on the table.

Bobby set the last of the posters in front of them as the girls did final stretches and settled into their seats. “All right, team, I know everyone is all Saja, Saja, Saja, but we’re gonna turn it into Huntr/x, Huntr/x, Huntr/x! Yay! These fans slept on the sidewalk, overnight!” He did his best to hype them up.

“And I got all the fuel you guys’ll need to get through the next few hours,” You told them, nodding your head to the box of drinks and snacks you had for them.

The girls did their little circle, cheering each other with their pens, “Happy fans, happy Honmoon!” They whispered.

You took your place behind the girls as the doors opened and the fans flooded in, spearheaded by five people in sleeping bags, “Let’s bring them in! Welcome!”

The five sleeping bags eagerly waddled up to the table despite Bobby’s urging to go in a single file without pushing. You couldn’t help but giggle, it reminded you of the sleeping bag Mira had you design for her for the Met. Maybe they were Mira fans…

“And who should I make this out to?” Rumi greeted them.

“‘To our biggest fans.’”

‘Wait. You knew that sly, antagonistic, pretty voice.’

The sleeping bags dropped and the Saja Boys smoothly posed. Your jaw dropped. Did they really spend all night on the sidewalk just to mess with the girls? Were they that petty? Apparently, yes. Yes they were.

Bobby moved quickly, greeting the boys respectfully despite the interruption and the girls' complaints as they snapped their pens, summoning another table for the boys. But as soon as half the line split to line up in front of the Saja Boys’ table, Rumi stood, “The Saja Boys will sit with us!”

Zoey and Mira protested but the half of the crowd swiftly rejoined the original line as Bobby teared up at Rumi’s genius. The girls rearranged themselves, spreading out though Mira and Zoey clearly didn’t want to.

You couldn’t help the frown you had as Chungae and Kwan sidled up to Mira while Zoey fawned over Hyeon. And Jinu was whispering with Rumi. You did your job, grabbing five more waters from your box to pass out to the boys. It kinda… hurt when they didn’t acknowledge you, you knew they couldn’t, not with the fans and the other girls here, but still. It stung.

You couldn’t help but giggle when Kwan started passing out signed sketch outlines of his abs though.

You blinked and then sighed fondly when Hyeon started barking at a fan for some reason. You bit your lip, you wanted to pull him back but you couldn’t make any contact with the boys like this. You scratched at your arms in stress.

“No!” Zoey hit him with her pen, scolding him, “Bad Saja Boy!”

Hyeon backed down unhappily, pouting as he bit back a growl at the girl. He crossed his arms, sulking. ‘She hadn’t noticed how the fan’s eyes kept flickering up to stare behind them, at you,’ Hyeon mentally growled.

At the same time, Kwan, Mira, and Chungae started fighting over who would sign a fan’s leg cast first. Seeing the huge problem, you grimaced and quickly rushed over since no one else was doing anything.

“Woah, woah, woah,” You waved your arms over them, smiling tensely down at them, “Good idols don’t further injure their fans,” You hissed pointedly though your customer service smile didn’t waver. You shoved Chungae’s pen in his hand and slid the man’s leg over to him first.

”So sorry about any discomfort sir, they were just so excited to sign for you,” You bowed to the fan and scurried back to your place. You made sure to keep a watchful eye on them.

‘Why couldn’t they be like Jum? Jum was just quietly signing the posters and whatever the fans asked to be signed—within reason. Jum is being perfect. Be more like Jum guys.’

Speaking of Jum, he waved you over and you leaned down to offer your ear when he crooked his finger to the squeals of some of the fans. “Do you have any energy drinks? It was a long night on the sidewalk…” He whispered. Your face heated at the sensation of his voice in your ear and his breath fanning over your skin.

‘No! Bad thoughts (Y/n)! Focus on the boy, he wants an energy drink!’

Straightening up stiffly, you didn’t dare say anything because you knew you would stutter and stumble and make a mess of yourself. You smiled and nodded your head, hurrying over to your drink and snack stash. You were not running away from the hot maknae.

Jum couldn’t help but smirk and chuckle fondly as he watched you scurry away to get an energy drink for him. The back of your neck was flushed so he could imagine the flustered look on your face. He hadn’t even meant to, he was just really tired. But your reaction definitely gave him a little bit more energy, at least enough to smile at fans and send hearts at them every now and then. Jinu would owe them big time for this one…

“Here you go, Jum,” His name slipped out without you meaning to but, thankfully, no one seemed to hear you.

Jum took the can with a smile, making sure your fingers brushed as he did, “Thanks (Y/n).”

And then he cracked it open and took a long drink, his throat bobbing with every swallow.

‘Was this fan service!? Run (Y/n)!’

You got out of there as fast as you could. You scurried back to the safety of your drink and snack stash so you could bury your face in your hands until your face cooled down. ‘In front of the fans too…’

You looked up in time to awe over the cutest little girl ever going up to the table with a drawing, her eyes on Jinu. You couldn’t see Jinu’s face as he slowly took the drawing, other fans shouting about how much they loved Jinu.

You blinked, cocking your head in confusion when Rumi suddenly stood, her arms held out to gesture at Jinu, “Isn’t he great? Woo! Jinu, everybody! Yeah Jinu!” Rumi cheered. It set off the crowd of fans, cheering and clapping wildly as they threw bouquets of flowers to each of the Saja Boys.

“‘Woo, Jinu’?” Mira echoed in disbelief. You grimaced, she didn’t sound happy at all…

Jinu then stood, “Unfortunately, the Saja Boys have to run. Thank you, everyone.” The rest of the boys followed his lead.

You stood at attention when Bobby suddenly waved to you, “(Y/n), can you show them to the back exit and call one of the cars around?” He trailed off into muttering about how the boys never had any managers or employees with them, a little disgruntled.

You started to nod when Rumi’s protective streak flared anew, “No!”

Everyone was looking at her.

”Uhhh, I mean, I was gonna ask (Y/n) to get me a, uhhh…” Rumi trailed off, her mind blanking on what to say. The Saja Boys already kidnapped her sister once and put her in danger, she didn’t want them doing it again.

“Some more water! You wanted some more water, right Rumi?” Zoey chimed in, her smile strained as she tried to help.

“Yeah! Yeah, I need some more water!” Rumi agreed quickly. All eyes went to the half full water bottle on the table. She quickly snatched it up and chugged it down. Aggressively.

“Okay… I’ll get you some more water, you can go ahead (Y/n),” Bobby reassured and you smiled awkwardly. There was no getting out of this. Not that you really wanted to get out of it…

“It’s fine, I’ll be right back Rumi,” You reassured your sister before leading the boys to the back as they waved to the fans, “This way.”

As soon as the boys were out of sight of the fans, they sagged with exhaustion, tossing the bouquets out.

You grimaced, and fished them out of the garbage, “Come on guys… I know you guys are tired but, just take some pictures with them later or something, the fans’ll like that…” You knew they were exhausted and probably aching from sleeping on the sidewalk all night but you couldn’t just let them do that right in front of you.

Jinu was quiet behind you, staring thoughtfully at the girl’s drawing in his hand.

“Tired…”

“Too much effort…”

“Can’t do it…”

“Nghhh…”

You shook your head at them, leading them to the back exit as you juggled the flowers in your arms to get your phone and text one of the drivers to come around to the back door.

“Okay, wait right here and one of our drivers will come and take you guys wherever you need to go,” You told them, shoving your phone in your pocket.

You almost fell over when someone’s body weight was suddenly on top of your shoulders, their face resting in the crook of your shoulder. “So tired…” Hyeon groaned. You blushed but couldn’t move before Chungae and Kwan plopped on the ground to lean their back’s against both sides of your legs. Jum pouted, settling with just leaning his head against your arm as all four boys tiredly closed their eyes. You were stuck.

It was like when a cat or a dog deigned you with the honor of them laying in your lap so you didn’t dare shift even a millimeter in the horrible case of you disturbing them. Your muscles were tense and you felt like your legs were going numb but you didn’t dare move.

You looked up flatly when you heard Jinu snickering to himself. “These are your children, shouldn’t you take them?” You hissed at him.

Jinu held his hands up in surrender, “Hey, they like Mama more, that’s not my fault,” He smirked.

The cluster of five people all looked at him in deadpan. Did this guy really just insinuate that he and you were their parents? “Ew.”

Your phone chimed and you slowly shook the boys off, “Alright, car’s here guys.”

They whined but released you and got to their feet. Chungae took your hand in his, swinging them back and forth as he pleaded, “Come with us, wanna cuddle…”

‘Okay, so Chungae got childishly clingy when he was tired. Noted.’

“I can’t, you guys can’t keep kidnapping me. I gotta stay with the girls for this event,” You told him and started herding the boys outside and to the car.

“Fine…” Chungae huffed, mindlessly giving you a kiss on the cheek before he shuffled into the car first, “Bye darling…”

‘Was he really that tired?!’ Your face combusted.

Looks like they were taking turns.

Hyeon was next, taking your hand and pressing a lingering kiss to the back of it before he followed after Chungae, “‘Till next time, princess.”

Kwan wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you in a tight hug and oh gosh. You can feel all his muscles. “See you later, babe.” And then he was climbing into the car too.

Jum approached you with a cool air, but his eyes didn’t meet yours as he took your hand in his and gave it a soft, shy squeeze, “Thanks for the drink earlier, beautiful.” You opened your hand as he climbed into the car to see your favorite candy. Was this gift-giving…?

Jinu tried to hide his chuckle at how red and flustered you were as snores started sounding from the car already. You pouted at him. “You look like the co-host from ‘Play Games With Us!’ after the spicy challenge,” He quietly cackled.

Was your face really that red? You pressed your hands to your cheeks to cool them down, tossing the flowers into the car after the boys. “Shut it, pretty boy,” You grumbled petulantly.

Jokes on him, now he was flustered and blushing. Jinu could dish it out but he couldn’t take it when the flirting was directed at him apparently.

Jinu cleared his throat, looking away from your little smirk as he fumbled with his hands. “Okay, uh, I’ll see you around.”

“Okay. Bye Jinu,” You waved as he fumbled to get into the car as you walked back to the door.

“Uh, byeee, ugh,” he cringed at the way his voice came out. You didn’t get to hear him mutter and groan at himself as he quickly closed the car door behind him and the car soon took off.

You shook your head in amusement at the boys and went back inside to finish the event with the girls.

It was hours later of Rumi glancing worriedly at you out of the corner of her eye until the event finished, Bobby grinning happily at the success of the event.

“Great job girls!” He cheered, circling the table as employees cleaned up the venue. He showed his phone to Mira and Zoey joined to see what it was, “The internet loves this, and the internet is never wrong!”

You looked over their shoulders as Mira snatched Bobby’s phone to go through the stories, “Rujinu! That’s genius.” It was a picture of Jinu and Rumi’s feet touching under the table with the caption, ‘Rujinu?! Playing footsie?!’

Mira tapped through to a drawing of Zoey with a glowering baby Jum in her arms and Hyeon at her side with a beaming smile, “Zoeystery. Where did they come up with that?”

And an edit of Mira with Chungae and Kwan on each side of her, the three surrounded by hearts, “Miro-mabby?” Mira tried to sound out the poly ship name as her fist clenched.

“Aw, you’re so cute together!” Zoey cooed lightheartedly.

Your eyes widened when Mira clicked again and this time it was a collage of Jum whispering in your ear earlier, drinking the energy drink, and you burying your red face in your hands with the caption, ‘(Y/n) is literally us, same girl! I hardcore ship it tho! (Y/n) + Baby!’ With plenty of hearts.

Zoey gasped excitedly, “They even did you, (Y/n)!”

You bit your lip, flushing as Mira turned her head to look at you, “You were blushing over them?” She asked you incredulously.

You stared flatly back at her, “I don’t wanna hear it when you kept watching Abby make those sketches of his abs.”

She shrugged, “Point taken.”

Zoey nodded, “Yeah, fair enough.”

~~~

Rumi didn’t know what to do.

On one hand, she had Zoey and Mira with this diss track, racing towards their goal of destroying all demons and trapping them in the demon realm with Gwi Ma for eternity.

On the other hand, she had Jinu and the constant niggling in her head that not all demons deserve to suffer.

And below it all, the protective determination to protect you, her sister. The faster she completed the Honmoon, the faster her and your patterns would be gone so you both could live normal lives. That’s what she wanted for you.

Rumi couldn’t talk to you about what was going on, you wouldn’t understand. And she didn’t want to freak you out over Jinu knowing about her—and by extension—your patterns.

But she did have to talk to Jinu. Maybe there was hope for him. And if there was hope for him, then there must be hope for you and her.

That’s why she gave the note to Derpy to give to Jinu.

So, early in the morning as the sun was just barely about to come up, she saw Jinu waiting for her. “She wants to meet, and she’s late?”

Rumi couldn’t help but sneak up behind him and land on the wall, making him shriek and flail as he turned and saw her suddenly crouched behind him. “You made me come all the way out here so you could jump-scare me?!” He panted, gripping his chest as he felt his heart slowly come down from the hummingbird speed it had jumped to. (Y/n) would never treat him like this…

Rumi jumped down smoothly, ignoring his question. “Follow me.”

He did. “Well, I’m glad you’re finally ready to talk. Although, you could’ve picked somewhere nicer for a date.”

Rumi faltered, “‘Date’? No! Ew! What are you talking about?”

Jinu pointedly held up the invite she had sent him, reading, ‘Save the Date.��

“That doesn’t mean—“ She sighed frustratedly, “You’re so old. This is strictly a business meeting.” She snatched the invite from him, going back to her walk as he trailed after her.

“Right… I thought you were into your friends. Glad it’s not me,” Jinu mused as he followed the purple haired girl.

Rumi blanched again, “What?! No! No way! I— They— We— Just, just keep your nose out of my love life, okay?! Business. Meeting.”

Jinu held up his hands in surrender, “Okay, loud and clear,” He agreed and the two resumed walking, Rumi with much redder cheeks than she had arrived with.

“What if I told you there’s another way to get your freedom?” Rumi asked him, her face serious and solemn now.

“Go on.”

“Help us win the Idol Awards. Because when we win, the Honmoon will be sealed,” Rumi explained, hopping up onto the wall with a touch to the Honmoon so it glowed out over the city. “And that will guarantee your freedom. Gwi Ma will be permanently cut off, and all the demons will be gone from this world. My sister and I will finally be free of these patterns. No more hiding. No more secrets. You can be on this side when the Honmoon is sealed. Away from the demon world, away from Gwi Ma. You can be free from those voices forever.”

Jinu looked away in consideration. Rumi didn’t know his true story, she thought he had made a deal for his family, when in reality, he made the deal for himself. Besides, her thinking was flawed, even he could see it. She was telling herself comforting lies.

“But I am a mistake.”

Jinu frowned at her words, looking up at her.

“Have been since the moment I was born. So, I have to believe. Because if there’s no hope for you, what hope is there for me?”

After a moment, he couldn’t help but ask, “And your sister? Is she a mistake too?”

Rumi looked down, conflicted. “(Y/n)… I don’t want to think so, I love her. But… if we weren’t born the way we were, maybe she would’ve been able to use the Honmoon like us…” Rumi trailed off softly, unsure and bitter over her own conflicted thoughts and emotions on her sister.

They were interrupted by a middle aged woman offering a bracelet to Jinu to give to his ‘girlfriend.’ The two flailed, stumbling over their words until the woman gave Jinu a flat look and Rumi the bracelet with the advice to find a better boy since Jinu was hopeless.

“Well, there’s your answer. Hopeless.”

Rumi gave the bracelet a soft, thoughtful look, “That’s the funny thing about hope. Nobody else gets to decide if you feel it. That choice belongs to you.” She held the bracelet out to offer him, “Here. Think of it as a… friendship bracelet.”

When Jinu took too long to think about it, Rumi turned away to leave with a sigh. “Wait.” He told her, holding his hand out for the bracelet when she turned. She smiled softly and slid it into his hand.

Looking at the bracelet in his hand, he couldn’t help but say, “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you or your sister are mistakes.”

Then they went their separate ways.

~~~

It was all getting to be too much for you.

The girls were at the venue for the Idol Awards since early this morning, practicing their performance for Takedown. You had asked Bobby to deliver snacks to girls for you because you were busy running errands in the city. Bobby had reassured you that he would do that while you did your errands—i.e. getting some air.

Since the fan sign event, you had been scratching at your patterns more and more. The Idol Awards were tomorrow and it seemed like you couldn’t escape Takedown whenever you were in the apartment with the girls. It always seemed to be playing, whether the girls were changing lyrics, working on choreography or just rehearsing singing the song.

And the more time you spent with the Saja Boys, the less you wanted the Honmoon to be completed.

Jum pretended to be aloof but he liked to give you little things that reminded him of you. He often found you while you were out running errands just so he could follow you while you did, no matter how boring it was like getting groceries. The both of you had gone back to the cat cafe the other day and had taken selfies on his phone with the cats. He had a whole album of them now.

Chungae came to your balcony most nights to whisk you up to the tower roof balcony. You two would sit and look out over the city, just talking. He would insert a flirty line every now and then to see you blush and rile you up but would always smooth it over with a fond smile.

Hyeon was more of a wildcard. He would find you while you were getting a breath of fresh air at the park or just in the city. Like he had a built in radar for you, he would find you when you felt stressed and he would distract you. He was a little protective though, growling at people he felt were too close to the two of you.

Kwan was starting to make a foodie out of you. He would barge in during random parts of the day when you were alone to drag you off to a new food place he had found or heard about. No matter how bizarre it seemed, he would always try it and you somehow ended up trying it too. He would draw you into little debates, getting you wound up in your bickering until you were laughing with your eyes passionate as you argued your point.

And Jinu was like a ghost fading in and out between all these different interactions. He was probably the calmest besides Jum and Chungae—it was a little weird that those two were the calmest when they were the two youngest of the group. Jinu introduced you to Derpy, his tiger and the little demon bird that always accompanied him. You laughed when he explained that he had made the hat for Derpy but bird kept taking it. Jinu and you bonded over music. You shared modern music with him, not just modern kpop, but jazz, rock, punk, pop, classical, everything you could think of. The two of you would sit under the night sky, an earbud in each of your ears as you listened to music.

You didn’t want to lose the five boys that had somehow wormed their way into your heart, not when they made you feel more safe and seen than even Rumi did. Besides, if even the five boys who were so kind and comforting to you ended up trapped on the other side of the Honmoon, then what hope was there that you would get to stay? In your stress, your patterns have progressed more than Rumi’s has. She could still wear shorts and skirts if she wanted to, even if her arms and neck had to be covered. But you?

Your patterns have progressed well onto your legs to the point where you couldn’t wear shorts or anything that showed your legs at all. The stress was making you scratch so bad despite you taking Jinu’s advice and trying to keep your nails short, that you had to start bandaging your arms under your sleeves to try and mitigate the harm you were unintentionally doing to yourself.

“(Y/n)?” You looked up at the call of your name. Oh yeah. You were trying to get some air so you went for a walk.

Who is it?

(A/N: Vote for who it is here! Can’t post anything until the poll is over!)

Outtakes:

*Before the Series*

You: “You completely wrecked your private jet?!”

Huntr/x: “It wasn’t our fault! It was the demons!”

You: *Pulling your hair out* “That is literally your excuse for everything!”

…

Jinu: *Resting semi-comfortably on a chair* “So…How you guys doing?”

Saja Boys: *Laying on the cold hard cement sidewalk, plotting Jinu’s death* “Shut the f*** up.”

…

Random Fan: “Awww, Mira, Romance and Abby get along so well, it’s so cute!~”

Mira, Romance, Abby: *Currently trying to kill each other*

Other fan: *side eyeing their friend* “Yeah…so well…”

Random Fan: *Manically whispering* “I will die on this ship.”

…

Jinu: “So, you like those other girls, right?”

Rumi: *Bipanic mode activated, blue screen mode activated* “Uhhhh…”

…

Rumi: “Yeah…me and my sister were born as mistakes.”

The Saja Boys, Mira, Zoey: *Ready to fight* “I’m sorry, what?”

Tag list: @brights-place @itmechaosartist @reni502 @chin-chii @cultish-corner @enerofairy @mama-m1na @akariis4snowball @gremlinartstudio @shynotded @shadowmoonlight0604 @omgsuperstarg @neigesprincess @sleep-7372 @hurts-my-brain @kiwibackie @gh0stied3ath @naysha140 @theferretkids @lelantyuu @sexyindependentdowntospendit @hornehlittleweeblet2 @moonymoo1 @moochiwoochi @cheolright @crescent-z @prorpy @mey-archive @cami1qx @nerdalicios @xxsadlovexx @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone @blackheart34 @anonymousewrites @scarletrosesposts @justanindiangirl12 @beexboo @tatsuri-zomushiki @call-me-nyxx @queenofviolenceandnerds @randomfan218-blog @jaybbygrl @unholycheesesnack @ocean-mochi @iviorienne @confusedparticle @otakusimp1 @nosbaby07 @fries11 @ri-eveowe @1950schick @libdarkheart @yourjustassaneasiamx @the-bookish-artist @anduinandwrathionlover @eternallyrosyfire @lysira340 @lansy-4 @strayharmony943 @maximumtrashchild @bleufu1 @minepugs @valeriele3 @arieslucy @nisarelle @suzieq1948374

[sawthatmountainburn]

not trying to be a hater but just last year there were massive issues with sudden changes to the tagging system which didn't even make sense for the actual needs of the fandoms it affected. one of the big changes was making the "Sherlock (TV)" tag synned to the "Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms" tag, meaning the 2010s British TV show was treated like the ur-fandom and made it hard for fans of other Holmes-related media to filter out that specific show from their searches + made it appear as if people who used that tag wrote for that specific show's canon when they actually hadn't

one person in the thread mentions "It's on purpose. The same thing happened to the James Bond tags and they told me they now syn the general tags to the most used fandom tag." meaning they basically privileged the most popular version of these franchises above all others. because when they said archive of our own, the "our" was referring to that belonging to the people in the biggest fandoms I guess.

they eventually walked the Sherlock decision back but from what I see in the replies, they didn't change it for amy other fandoms affected like the Transformers fandom, Chinese novel fandoms with prominent adaptations, anime/manga fandoms etc

and the response was basically "well it's run by volunteers and they're in the fandoms too so if you wanted change you should become a volunteer too" without considering that maybe the people in the fandoms affected DID speak up about it, but were overruled by people who didn't give a shit and also you aren't making a site just for the volunteers

so no, actually, I'm glad the library of congress isn't run like AO3 because AO3 is run like a circus lead by the world's least funny clowns who throw a fit if you tell them the tens have holes in them. and yea ok i lied, i am a hater. of AO3 leadership and how people keep glazing the site more than it deserves.

at a conference I attended recently, a researcher pointed to the difficulty of finding material in archives because so much depends on the metadata and the terminology used to describe things changes over time. "it would be so helpful," the researcher said, "if I typed 'lesbian' into the library of congress database, it would also show me results that were categorised in the 50s, when the materials were interpreted as 'intimate female friendships'"

which is what tag wrangles at Archive Of Our Own do incredibly effectively: searching for "omegaverse" also leads to "alpha/beta/omega dynamics" and "alternate universe: a/b/o" and so on. but ao3 achieves this frankly incredible categorisation and indexing system by the power of countless volunteers putting in hours and hours of unpaid and unthanked free time, and it's completely understandable that most archives do not have that kind of infrastructure, but also how incredible that a fan-run website has better searchability, classification, and accessibility than the library of congress

[bewitched-hours]

Hello! Yeah me again asking abt the noli and 07 yandere thing (lord I feel weird asking again I don’t want to be a bother) It’s just the last one you wrote was really and I mean really WELL written and I was hoping to ask for a part 2 of how things go? Hacking together, speaking, debating life—just quite cool! I already sent you the link of the past one I was talking about so I hope thats alright!

HI- YEAH- I SAW IT LOL I only saw it at school tbf so I'm starting it with this and have the story opened in another tab to make sure I don't forget anything (•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑

The reader's pronouns are once again She/They-

Pre-Forsaken

All three of you sat on opposite sides of 007 as you looked at the child in his arms.

"It's kinda cute..." You tried to end the silence comfortably as you could see the man soften. Noli didn't look so tough either for a change.

Though the red bundle of joy was giddy now, you knew it was only a matter of time until it got hungry...

"What are we meant to do with it..?" Noli asked quietly, watching as the baby held onto 007's fingers with glee. It honestly melted your heart a bit.

"I say we keep it." You state bluntly, surprised eyes meeting your own as you went to quickly explain yourself. "Think about it. If we drop it off somewhere else it would probably reach the same path as us if it survives anyways."

The two of them gave each other an unsure look before you gently lifted the child out of 7n7's arms with a huff. "I'm not saying we'd be great parents or anything but it'd definitely be better than the foster system or death." Your tone was firm but they could tell you were empathising with that little red face giggling up at you.

Maybe you were trying to prove something to yourself. That you were better than your family? Maybe that you can actually take care of something meaningful?

Whatever, it wasn't like either of them could say no by the time you started cooing at the baby all motherly.

"Heh, guess you're right." 007 perked up first, getting you to smile a bit more.

Wether it was to make you happy or they actually liked the idea, you couldn't care less. What mattered was that this child was safe with you.

"We should totally call it after the c00lgui." You commented with a chuckle, having Noli cackling and 007 trying to suppress his laugh.

"Yeah- no- this is good- So c00lkidd?" He suggested, letting out a laugh at your grinning nod. It was silly, it was unusual...

It was perfect.

"It'll be the perfect addition! Plus, I have some experience back when I had a babysitting gig to save up some money as a kid myself. We'll just need to get a few things and c00lkidd is gonna be spoiled with love!" You practically beamed and placed a gentle kiss on the little one's head, going back to cooing at it as it giggled in your arms.

Being a family might just be easier than you thought...

Post-Forsaken

For once, 007 probably appreciated being an outsider.

It meant more time with you. More time with Noli.

You were quick to figure out a spot to all meet in where neither killers nor survivors would even hear you.

It was perfect, especially whenever Noli decided to bring along c00lkidd and you could just talk for a while.

CK loved you. He loved the idea of having a big family like this where you could be his mom. You played nice and fair and actually managed to tire him out at times.

Though he didn't understand why it was such a taboo to play tag outside of rounds, he trusted your explanation that it was because it was less fun with only you four and the other survivors wouldn't be willing to listen to you or 007.

And CK knew the other killers were even less willing so...

But you'd always promise that once you get back home, you'll be the best mother to c00lkidd. And he took it as a good promise to make before saying his goodbyes and waiting for the next round.

You were committed to being the mother c00lkidd needed and the 'wife' that 007n7 and Noli deserved...

A bit disappointed with how this turned out but I tried my best-

Anything you'd like to request/ask? Check out my pinned post first and I'll be happy to write up whatever you want!

[whumpetywhumpwhump]

Maisie's guide to disguised AI

If you've been anywhere near AO3 recently, you've probably encountered AI writing at some point. As somebody who writes for, primarily, the ER fandom (and occasionally the Pitt, too), I've noticed a concerning trend over the last few days: AI-generated fanfiction clogging the tags.

Firstly, I'd like to say that if you ARE posting fics on AO3 that were AI-generated, and you're passing them off as your own, please stop. I know this is not likely to actually resonate with you if this IS you, but on the off-chance that you do see this- please use tags as intended and make it clear that you're using AI.

Secondly, before I go into some AI tells in detail, I want to preface this with a warning- just because you see one or two of these in a fic, there's no guarantee that it was AI-generated. Please approach the matter of flagging fics with care, because the last thing I want is to incite a witch hunt against innocent people just engaging in fandom.

However, when seen in tandem, these signs should act as a warning to think a little more deeply about what you're reading, and ask the question- was this human written?

1. Em-dashes

I'm getting this one out of the way quickly because it's something easily identifiable, but it should by no means discredit a fic on its own. Real people can use em-dashes, but ChatGPT uses them a LOT. Like, a distracting amount. And they're often used in conjunction with...

2. 'Not' qualifiers

ChatGPT doesn't do 'yes, and'. It seems to work off 'no, but' instead (sorry @pagingdoctorcarter , like an AI, I am stealing your phrase here. But I do have the decency to credit, I suppose!).

Take this sentence I've come up with right now:

Carter was so exhausted he was struggling to stand, legs trembling with the strain of keeping him upright.

AI might write something like this (using my own creative license here because I don't want to feed the beast):

Carter was exhausted— not the regular exhaustion that came with twelve hours on his feet. Something deeper. Heavier.

3. Repetitive phrases.

AI is not original, so it can't come up with anything original, of course. This means that it relies on basic phrases it uses over and over and over again e.g 'the kind of (blank) that (blank)'

4. The classic 'concrete noun' + 'abstract noun' combo

For reasons that I can't quite understand, AI adores this. Some humans include this combo in their work, too, but AI does it even more frequently. Some real phrases I've encountered so far include:

"a story about meatballs and betrayal"

"champagne and anxiety soaked into the upholstery"

5. Anachronisms and inaccuracies

This is especially present in a fandom like ER, where most of the time we're writing about the 90s, and this CAN be attributed to genuine human error... but if Carter is repeatedly 'swiping' on his phone screen to open a call, and everyone's always texting... could be AI.

In a similar vein, if someone is shouting 'code blue!' for things that AREN'T cardiac arrest, or mixing up names and even hallucinating random characters- think 'maybe AI'.

6. Short sentences, short paragraphs, short chapters.

AI doesn't have the ability to understand how paragraphs are structured for ease of reading and flow. So it likes short sentences. Snappy sentences.

And not just when the situation suits it. But always.

If there's a hell of a lot of paragraphs, it could be AI. AI doesn't like including many clauses. At all.

7. Generic similes and phrases that don't mean anything at all

This relates to the 'concrete noun + abstract noun combo' but, more generally, AI produces writing that veers away from specifics. It won't often describe places in too much detail, and when it comes to similes, it uses simple, overused ones OR spouts a series of words that are meaningless. If you see an abstract simile in a fic, take a second. Is it abstract because it's complex and has several layers, or is it utterly meaningless?

8. A crazy update schedule

This one is less reliable because it IS possible to bank chapters and then post a lot in one go, but if an author is posting many thousands of words in the span of a few days, consider this a small red flag- especially in conjunction with the other things mentioned. It could mean they're just pumping out AI-generated writing, and this allows them to move far quicker than any human.

9. Overly mushy dialogue

AI is a thief, but it's a happy-go-lucky thief. Characters speak like they stepped straight off Sesame Street at times, lacking any kind of emotional complexity.

10. Awful, awful jokes

AI cannot write jokes. It simply cannot. If you read a joke in a fic that feels Disney-Channel esque but also doesn't make sense at all? It very well could be AI.

For instance:

Nobody talks like this.

Also, note the 'concrete noun + abstract noun' combo again here! (This actually was an AI fic as confirmed by author before deletion, not naming them here): 'gauze and intuition'.

Conclusion

Be vigilant. Don't fall for AI crap and, if you disagree with the concept of AI work clogging AO3 tags, definitely don't leave kudos.

And if you're posting this stuff, yet again I ask you politely, please STOP.

Thank you.

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!! May you all wishes come trueeee!!!!! 🥹✨

I thought of Werewolf!Kid with “What if I kissed you right now? Would you stop me?" prompt? When his s/o gets to know what he truly is? I wish for a happy endinggg! Tysm for reading it and once more HAPPY BIRTHDAYYYYYYYY!!!

This was actually the first request I got for my birthday event! I'm so sorry, Anon, that I only got to write it now! If you're still there, I hope you read this! Thank you so much for the birthday wishes, even if I'm only replying nine months later!

Source for pic

Love me or leave me

Word Count: 5069

Tags: gn!reader; werewolf!Kid; alternate universe; medieval setting; gore; violence; blood; slight angst; love confessions; self-loathing;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: Your village is the battleground of a century-old battle between werewolves and vampires. When your only certainty is your hate for the monsters and your love for Kid, the truth that comes out during the latest battle threatens to unravel all you believe. Forced to make an impossible choice, you need to weigh how much of your humanity you are willing to sacrifice.

Notes: This was supposed to be like 2k long... it escalated. Also had to double-check the request because I was about to make it a very bad ending! Sorry, not sorry! I know I should be posting Imperfect, but I'm late again. I humbly offer this to appease any anger! Love you all!

|Masterlist|

The wind howled through the vale in unforgiving surges, its sharp bite reminding you that winter was much closer than the turning of days left in the season.

It had rained during the night, so you left your house at the crack of dawn, waiting diligently for the first light before you set foot outside the dilapidated village’s gate. No matter how eager you might’ve been to get your hands on some game, this was one of your dad’s cardinal rules to follow: if shadows stay, don’t dare to stray.

So, as soon as the first tentative ray of light shone through the bent iron teeth of the gate, you were off.

There were no deer to account for in the dense woods. Once, these woods had been brimming with life, especially after a rainy night. Now… you’d be lucky to get your hands on a hare or a squirrel. 

Every crack of wood, every whoosh through the leaves, every howl of the wind made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. You had nocked the ashwood arrow on the bow, ready to fly at the first sound of trouble. The sun might’ve been up, but these woods were dense and thick, more shadow than sunshine seeping through the falling leaves and thick boughs. 

You couldn’t risk an encounter with one of them. That’s why the ashwood arrows you were carrying were also consecrated. Leave nothing to chance — another cardinal rule.

The words your father used to utter were still etched deeply into your very soul. They had kept you alive in these beast-infested lands for years. 

And you planned on living many more.

-*-

There was mud everywhere. 

You left the packed market street lighter than when you came in, and far dirtier — and that was saying a lot, since you had spent most of the morning deep in the woods. The rain from yesterday had upturned the dirt and filth from the busiest street in the village, and trekking through the crowded mass of tents, stalls, and grubby bodies made the task of staying relatively clean impossible. 

You’d have to run down by the lake to give your clothes a thorough wash before the sun set; it wasn’t like you had clothes and boots to spare, anyway. And these days, the sun set rather fast. But the wards around the church needed to be replenished before that, and maybe, if there were enough salt left, the ones around your own home too. 

You were so deep in thought that you barely sensed a presence before a hand groped your ass. But it took you less than a second to twist your body and hold your sharp, bone-handled dagger against the assailant’s throat. 

“Easy there, sweetheart,” the man purred, hands raised in the air, a familiar cocky grin twisting his lips. 

“You could’ve lost your head, Kid,” you grunted, shoving him with your palms against his buffy chest. He barely moved. The man was massive, nearly two meters tall, built like a bull, with shaggy red hair and scars all over his face and torso. He screamed ‘dangerous’.

A loud guffaw escaped his lips as he pulled you by the waist, flushing your body against his and nuzzling your neck with his nose. “Ain’t a chance in hell of that happenin’, but I admire the confidence.”

Smug bastard. 

“Maybe I’ll cut off another head, then,” you taunted, one hand slithering between your bodies to palm the hardness forming in his crotch. 

He let out a low grunt, and his fingers dipped into your waist. “I seem tae recall that ye care a great deal for that particular head. Maybe even more than the one on me shoulders, I reckon.”

“Meh,” you started. “I’m sure I could find anoth—”

“Better no’ finish that sentence,” he threatened, a hint of jealousy and anger lacing his words. 

“Or what?” 

“Or ye dannae get tae play with any head,” he said with a grin as you pouted at his words. Then, without giving you any time to reply, he curled his hand around the back of your neck and crashed his lips against yours, immediately nipping at your lower lip with his wickedly sharp teeth until you relented and allowed him entry. 

“Cruel thing,” you taunted, panting as he pulled back after a while. 

“Missed ye last night. Godsdamned night patrol.”

You sighed and pecked him on the lips once more before locking your fingers with his and starting the trek back home. Eustass Kid was one of the guards stationed at your village, and had been for years. He was one of the first Kingsguard to come to protect it, back when there were still funds and the patrols were heavily armed and manned. Now, only a few remained: underarmed, undersupplied, underpaid.

The only reason the king hadn’t fully pulled the force back was that your village had a most precious gold mine. But it was located in a very unlucky place, an in-between territory of a centuries-old war between werewolves and vampires. And its inhabitants were the unfortunate casualties of it.

You hated the beasts, all of them. Vampires and werewolves were equally at fault for what had happened to your family. First, your mother, then your father, and your siblings. All gone in the same month. Fuel to feed their aching bellies and support them in an inane war where no beast won, but all humans lost. 

You hated them with the fury of an entire legion. 

“How was huntin’?” Kid asked, chasing away your thoughts and nodding at the cloth bag slung over your shoulder. 

“Scarce. Draining,” you sighed. “I caught a big, fat hare, though,” you added proudly, grinning at him. 

“Aye? Where is it?”

Your shoulders slumped. “Traded it for salt. Figured it was time to replenish the wards, and being alive beats being hungry any day, right?”

He nodded solemnly, then grinned back at you, looping one finger through the hoop of the bag and lifting it. “And yer carryin’ all that salt by yer wee self? Want a real man tae carry it?”

You shoved him playfully and adjusted the strap back on your shoulder. “I do! When you see one, let me know.”

He smirked at you, that wide, mischievous smirk that had gotten you into trouble many times before. The one that promised all the naughty things and reminded you why it had been so hard to admit you loved him. 

Because the beasts took everything away. And you didn’t want to lose him. 

At first, you’d taken Kid into your bed - after much insistence on his part - because you needed to let out your anger and frustrations, and what better way to do it than with mind-blowing, problem-erasing sex?

But then things evolved. And though it took you a few years to admit it, you loved the smug bastard. And he loved you back. He’d proven it time and again. 

You stopped with a sigh and stared at the church. You’d go to your home first, then to the church, and finally to the lake. That was the plan, anyway. 

“The full moon is in a week,” you whispered, shifting the flirty mood quickly. “Though I saw traces of vampire activity in the woods today. They’re getting bolder.”

Vampires usually left the village alone during the month; it was only when the full moon neared, a day or two before, that they would come and feast, to be strong enough to fight the hordes of wolves. Yet now…

The church bells began ringing. A loud, alarmed call, not the usual summons to prayer, but a warning sign.

“Get the fuck inside!” Kid roared, shoving you to get you moving and reaching for his sword, fiery eyes already scanning the horizon and the sky for approaching threats. 

“The children…” you whispered, your gaze on the church doors, where one of the elders taught them the folklore and the history of your world during the day. “I’ll meet you at the mine!” you yelled back, already sprinting towards the building, ignoring Kid’s distressed shout.

The sun hid behind the clouds, rain gathering in their darkness, ready to pour down at a moment’s notice. And out of them, shadows descended, swooping over the village. Then the screaming began. 

All-too-familiar screams of surprise and pain. And then the begging, and the gurgling sound of defeat. Swallowing down a lump in your throat, you nocked an arrow into your bow and pulled on the string, ready to fire as your steps raced you towards the church. 

With a kick and a muttered apology to the gods above, either the ancient ones or the one worshiped at this altar, you entered and turned your back on the inside of the building, aiming your arrow towards the grey sky. 

“Get out! I’ll lead you to the mine where it’s safe!” Your shout echoed inside the church, its high ceiling carrying your voice like an ominous warning. 

“No!” an alarmed elderly voice answered from the inside. “The church is safe! It’s always been!”

Shadows curled in the air in front of you, fast and swift, before a shape came along. With a snarl, a vicious vampire snapped his fangs your way, one foot already on the threshold of the church door. 

Too close!

But the arrow was already nocked, the string already humming with unreleased tension. So you lowered the tip and aimed for the heart, letting it fly the short distance between you. 

It struck true, and the combination of ashwood and the holiness of the consecration did its job. The beast erupted into flames, shrieking so loudly you had to fight the urge to cover your ears, opting instead to nock another arrow. 

“The wards are down! They were going to be replenished today! The mine is safe!” You turned back, finding the panicked gaze of an elder man, a salt-and-pepper beard covering his wrinkled face. “Please! I’ll get you there safely!”

When they started towards you, you breathed in relief, then refocused your attention outside, ignoring the pained screams, the singing of swords being brandished, and the pleading. So much pleading. 

You aimed for two more vampires, and they fell writhing, but you only had two more ashwood arrows. Then your dagger would have to do. 

While you ushered the children towards the mine, urging them to move fast and instructing the older ones to help the youngest, your eyes swept the village’s center, searching for a mane of red hair, for a frenzied man fighting off threats, but you couldn’t see him. He was probably right in the middle of all the action, as usual.

Reckless, reckless man!

Two guards came rushing towards you, blood, gore, and ash clinging to their skin like armor, but you let out a relieved breath. “Take them to the mines! Hurry!”

They took over for you, the mine entrance a few meters ahead. Safety. Shadows still lurked around the village, though the screams were fading. You hoped that meant the people had managed to retreat towards the mine instead of them having fallen prey to the beasts. 

There!

Suddenly, a flash of red caught your attention, and you rushed towards it. Kid was surrounded by three vampires who seemed to be snickering and taunting him. Kid was weighing his options, knowing that if he lunged for one, he’d leave his back open for another to claim. 

No room to think. 

Barely a breath later, you aimed. Centered your balance. Shot. 

One fell with a shriek, the other two snapped their hissing heads in your direction, and a beat later, they were both beheaded by Kid’s great sword. 

Relief crashed down in relentless waves as you saw he was all right, and his face was a mirror of yours. You took one step towards him and then—

A cold hand wrapped around your neck, one of them blinking into existence right in front of you, without any time to nock an arrow and certainly not enough time to unsheathe your dagger. 

He lifted you off your feet before you had the chance to blink, and you knew this was it.

You were going to die. 

The beast snarled and opened his unnatural, gaping mouth, fangs glistening with saliva and blood, putrid, hot breath overwhelming your senses. 

You were going to die. 

You glanced at Kid, because it was a much better choice to have him be your last vision than this foul, wicked creature, but he was gone. And then it all happened too fast and too slow at the same time. 

Something lurched against the vampire, ripping him away from you, tearing his death grip loose as you fell to the floor, gasping for air and blindly reaching for your last ashwood arrow. 

You nocked it, knowing without looking that Kid had been the one to rip the beast from you, but when you turned and aimed… there were two beasts rolling on the floor in a heated fight. 

The vampire and…

Kid. 

Except Kid was not Kid. His face had half-turned into something with an elongated snout, his teeth were sharp, vicious, and dripping saliva. Half of him - an arm, a leg, his torso - was covered in shaggy red fur, his limbs contorting and snapping as he transformed. Unearthly howls left his feral mouth as if the transformation was destroying him. 

He was a werewolf. 

No. No. No. No.

You couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Kid was the monster from your nightmares. You still held the bow taut, ready to fire, but your hand was shaking, following the two beasts as the infernal howls and roars filled the empty village.

Until a final roar erupted from the vampire’s mouth as Kid sank his unnatural fangs into its neck, ripping half of the beast’s throat in one bite and using one hand and a clawed paw to tear apart the remaining tendons, muscles, and veins that held the head and torso together. 

Thick, black blood sprayed everywhere, darkening the bright red of Kid’s fur, and time stood still. Your heart thundered away, and in your mind, a broken word repeated itself to oblivion, tainting happy memories of the time you and Kid shared. 

No. No. No. No.

Kid’s transformation had somehow halted, and the rational part of your brain wondered how he’d even managed to tap into the beast’s power when the full moon was still a week away. 

But all you could think about was how he was one of them. He was a beast that you hated. And he had lied to you. Comforted you when you cried for your lost family, held you close as danger approached, and—

A gasp left your lips at the sudden realisation. You never found it odd that he was nowhere to be seen during the full moon. After all, he was a guard, and during that week, the whole village sought refuge inside the mines, under the mountain, surrounded by wards. 

You never saw him during that week. Never.

Because he was one of them.

You steadied your bow, lowering it until your remaining arrow was pointed straight at Kid’s heart. He was panting through his snout, orange eyes flaring brighter than you’d ever seen them, but opened wide. “Don’t…” 

You could tell that he wasn’t pleading for his life. He was asking you not to look at him like the monster he was. A sob ripped through your throat, and your knuckles whitened with the grip you had on the bow. 

“Liar!” Tears flowed freely down your cheeks, blurring your vision, but you did nothing to stop them. Oh gods, you were so nauseous, you were going to be sick. This could not be happening. It could not. “You’re a fucking liar!” you repeated the accusation, the pain in your voice forcing a whine out of him as he retreated a few steps, holding one arm and one paw up.

“I wanted—”

“How long? How fucking long?” Gods, gods, the roaring in your head was too much to bear. The pain in your chest, all-consuming. This couldn’t be true, couldn’t!

He retreated again because you had taken a menacing step towards him. The arrow trembled, your arm failed you, but your rage was so sharp it alone could kill. 

“For a very long time. Before ye.” Kid’s voice still sounded human. More gravelly, touched by something unnatural but not unkind. He hadn’t shifted completely and still stood in his half-form, pleading with you.

No, no, no, no, no!

Rapid breaths left your lungs as you let the bow and arrow clatter to the floor. You sank to your knees and punched the ground, clamping one hand on your throat to keep the pain and nausea contained. 

“You didn’t think I deserved to know this?” your voice was but a croak, and you didn’t dare look back at him. 

“I ain’t never asked for this! Fuck! I stand ma feckin’ ground and defend this village with all I have! I defend ye! Ye think I want this? I bind meself tae the feckin’ woods every godsdamned month! Have tae hide ma feckin’ trail and ma feckin’ scent just tae avoid bein’ gutted by bloodsuckers! Have tae suffer through ma own wards just tae survive another week! Tae come back tae ye!”

His words wounded like knives through your heart. That he would go through all of this just to be close to you. He could’ve fled to one of the packs in the mountains; he seemed big enough to be an Alpha or a Beta, at least — even in this half-shifted form. You could only imagine the size of him with the full transformation. But he had stayed. He had endured. 

For you. 

“Oh, gods… I…” You lifted your face to stare back at him, a grimace twisting your features. “I loved you, Kid…”

The sound he let out was anything but human, and you sobbed again when it reverberated inside your chest. 

“Loved?”

Loved. Because how could you love a beast? How could you love a monster? How could you love what helped kill your family and take away all the love in your life?

But before you could answer or even before he could demand to know more, a sudden gust of wind turned everything into uproar. Leaves scattered, mud splattered, and you raised your arm to shield your eyes from the grit being thrown around. 

When the dust settled, the shadows remained, like a living creature themselves. The stench of fresh blood and something rotten hit you before you even got a glimpse at what you were facing: two vampire overlords. The rulers of the clans in the mountains, most certainly. They stood behind Kid, creepy smirks twisting their thin lips into ghoulish smiles, pale skin misty with the drizzle of rain that was starting to pour from the skies they had flown down from, and their eyes… their blood-red eyes shone with hunger and cruelty.

“RUN!” Kid’s warning turned into a growl as he twisted on his haunches, using his paw to sink his claws into the neck of one of them. 

The hit never landed. 

Your heart thumped against your chest in a fast tempo, and your breath came in heaves and whizzes. You managed to get up, fingers already slipping against the damp wood of the bow. Kid attacked with his claws and his muzzle, teeth snapping and fangs flashing, but the overlords didn’t stay still long enough for his hits to strike. They turned into shadows and mist, slipping through his fingers. 

You turned, swallowing down a lump, and angled your body to race to the mines. Kid roared. And you stopped. 

You turned back to the fray just in time to see Kid grabbing one of the overlords by the throat, one that had slashed Kid in the shoulder, and slamming it against the muddy ground. You could’ve sworn the ground itself shook with the force of the hit. 

“RUN, GODSDAMNIT!” he roared again, sweat, blood, and gore covering him whole. You could see he was trying to fully shift into a werewolf so he could stand a chance, because as a half-man, half-beast, he was easy prey to the two overlords. But the full moon was not out. It would not be for a full week. He was powerless.

You took a step back, eyes never leaving the fighting beasts, then another, and another, and—

You owed him nothing. He had lied to you. Omitted crucial information about himself when he knew well enough how much you hated werewolves and vampires and all manner of supernatural beasts. 

He lied! He lied! He lied!

But he also loved you.

Yes, he was a monster. The kind of monster that lived inside your head, in your nightmares. But he was also the man who protected you, kept you safe, and made you happy. The man who turned your empty life into something bearable, something worth living. 

Yes, the beasts had taken everything away from you. But he had given it all back.

You couldn’t leave him. You couldn’t let him die. 

With a steadying breath, you nocked your last ashwood arrow, sending a prayer to the gods above, to any gracious enough to hear your plea, and then aimed.

One of the overlords was pinning Kid to the ground, his hands gripping Kid’s wrists and forcing them to an unnatural angle behind his back. The other was preparing to rip out Kid’s throat. 

That one was your target. 

You didn’t lose another second to idle thoughts. You just let the arrow fly true. 

It sliced through the air and rain, the cold and dampness, and struck the overlord in the back. It plunged so deep and fast it came out the other side. 

The overlord screeched for a fraction of a second before dissolving into black, putrid ash. The other turned his sights on you, but before he could lunge, Kid twisted his body and pinned him to the floor, one bony, furry knee pressing down on the beast’s neck. 

With two fast strides, you were next to them, your dagger letting out a beautiful song before you plunged its sacred blade into the monster’s neck, letting it sink to the hilt. 

It too dissolved into nothingness. 

It was over. 

You both panted, trying to catch your breath, letting your bodies catch up with your emotions.

Then Kid grunted, falling on his knees while tremors shook his body. Bones snapped, cracked, and returned to normal. After a few seconds, he was your Kid again. 

“Why didnae ye run?” He sounded pained not just from exhaustion, but from so much more. 

“I couldn’t leave you… I—” You slumped to the floor, everything too heavy to bear. “I couldn’t let you die.”

Kid was still shaking, his face crumpled into a grimace as the relentless rain poured heavily on his back, pooling around his torn clothes and mixing with black blood and wet ash. 

“Ye should’ve. I kept the truth from ye. I am the monster ye fear.” His teeth snapped as he clenched them shut. They were still abnormally enlarged, big fangs pressing down on his lower lip, somehow not drawing blood. “I just…” 

Kid slumped forward, elbows hitting the mud as his body shook and trembled, bones and muscles still settling back to those of a man instead of a beast. 

“I tried tae tell ye so many times. But I always choked up. I… didnae want tae lose ye.” Kid’s voice cracked, and he looked away from you. His hair clung to his eyes in bright, wet strips as the rain increased around you. 

“I don’t know you, Kid. I don’t know who you are,” you sobbed. Your hand still gripped the bone handle of your dagger as if your life depended on it. You gazed at it, and then at Kid. 

He saw it. 

His eyes narrowed with pain, and he knelt in the mud, facing you with his back straight, letting you know that if you wanted, he would face death at your hands. 

“You knew what happened to my family, and you still never said anything. You taught me how to handle myself and, shit—you gave me this,” you said, opening your palm to show him the dagger. Your hand was trembling so much that you wouldn’t be surprised if it fell into the mud. “You swore to protect me from the monsters when you were one of them!”

“I ain’t like ‘em!” Kid growled. His eyes flashed brighter, and you could hear his bones snapping, as if anger and rage were trigger enough to set his shapeshifting in motion. “I don’t kill for sport! I protect. I set up ward after ward tae keep me away from the village! Tae keep me contained in the woods where I can rip ‘em tae shreds. I never wanted tae hurt ye…”

You gripped the dagger again, getting up on wobbly feet and moving towards him. Even on his knees, he was massive. You’d never seen a man this large; you should’ve known. 

“Why didn’t you tell me the truth… there were so many opportunities…” You spent so much time together. Kid spent most nights in your bed. You used all the time you managed to steal away from your responsibilities to be with each other… why?

He sagged. His whole body deflated in defeat as you took step after step towards him, your dagger dripping with wet rain, still stained from the black blood of the overlord. 

“Because… because for ye I wanted tae be a man. No’ a beast, no’ a monster… just someone ye could love.” You stopped when the sorrow in his voice hit you like a slap. Your eyes sought his, and what you saw in them wasn’t blind rage or unnatural fury. It was love and guilt and pain and grief. “I wanted tae be somethin’ good for once…”

You understood that. 

And you hated how much you didn’t hate him for it. 

Because all he wanted was to feel human. 

“I loved you, Kid…” you croaked. The words felt like shards in your throat, and you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing even if you wanted to. The rain picked up and drowned every other sound except the thrumming of your heart against your hollow chest. “I loved the man you were.”

“I’m still him,” Kid said. 

You took another wobbly step and set one hand on his shoulder. The other gripped the dagger and trembled. 

“I would’ve loved all the ugliness too, if you’d given me half the chance and time, but now…” You felt exhausted. Your bones were weary, and your mind was racing. He was a monster… he was a beast… he was the face of your nightmares. 

“Do what ye have tae do,” Kid conceded. Then, with a deep breath, he wrapped his calloused hand around yours and held the dagger to his throat. “Do what ye feel is right.”

Your breath came in sharp bursts. Your hand trembled, even in his grasp, and you hesitated. The weight of everything pressed on your back like a boulder; the rawness of his love bled inside your veins. 

“If ye want tae kill me, I will no’ stop ye. If ye want tae banish me away—” His voice broke, and when he swallowed hard, the tip of the dagger broke skin. A tiny droplet of blood ran down his neck and gathered on the hollow of his throat. Your eyes followed its path. “—I will no’ stop ye. But if there’s any chance that ye still feel the way I do—”

Your breath hitched, and he gripped your hand tighter, willing you to look him in the eyes. Your lower lip trembled so much that you had to bite down on it just to get it to stop. 

Kid reached out with his other hand and cupped your cheek with it, his thumb silently wiping the trail of tears and rain, of blood and anguish.

“Do ye—?” His breathy voice broke again, and you felt the way his hand shook against your skin. “Do ye still love me?”

Yes. Yes. Yes.

“I don’t know…”

“What if I kissed ye right now?” He shuffled closer, but didn’t loosen his grip on the dagger. Another droplet fell and pooled together with the one from before. 

Together…

“Would ye stop me?”

You opened your mouth, ready to answer, but only a sob and a ragged breath came out. The hand you had on his shoulder gathered the fabric of his shirt and clenched, like you couldn’t pull away, like you couldn’t bear to part with him. 

Was that answer enough?

“Please…” Kid begged. His free hand gripped the back of your thigh in an all-too-familiar gesture, sending tingles up your spine. 

“Try me…” It was a compromise. You didn’t admit to wanting him, but you didn’t admit to not wanting him. There were too many conflicting emotions inside of you, and you couldn’t make sense of any of them. 

Kid leaned forward slowly, angling his head towards you. He gulped again and hesitated, giving you enough time to pull back or to shove the dagger into his throat. You did neither. 

And then his lips met yours tentatively. He had never kissed you with so much tenderness and softness, and time stood perfectly still as you adjusted to your feelings. 

But then the soft thud of the dagger falling in the mud woke you, and you buried your fingers into his hair, gripping him and pulling him towards you in a devastating kiss. 

Kid groaned, both hands on the back of your thighs now, pulling you flush against him and opening his mouth. He swiped his tongue along the seam of your lips, begging entrance into your mouth, your heart, your soul.

You let him. 

You didn’t know what would happen later, or tomorrow, or next month. But in this moment, you were only glad Kid was alive and with you.

Even when you could still taste the blood in his mouth, even when you still felt the sharpness of his fangs, even when the monster he was lay just under the surface of the man you were kissing. 

Whatever came next could wait.

He was still the man you fell in love with. 

Liked this story? Like my writing? Consider buying me a Ko-Fi, please!

Taglist: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @elysian-asphodel @daydreamer-in-training @iloveyoushanks @thegalaxysedge22 @kyllium @keiva1000 @chibinasuu @my-name-is-heartache @laidenbreecatchall @moldychefboyardeecan @dazzlingstarlight23 @bearg-bia @babyboofangirl @praline357 @igiulss

[thecowboyfiles]

Give Me Grace - Ch. 2

.°˖⋆ ℧ 𓃽 .°˖⋆

.°˖⋆ ℧ 𓃽 .°˖⋆

tags: Rhett Abbott x transmasc oc. Talk of religion, struggle with faith and coming to terms with sexuality. author's note: I know OCs aren't popular around here, but I put my whole heart into this, so please just give it a chance ❤️ Short update this week, was supposed to be longer but as you all know this week was a hard and busy one. Updates every Friday. | Check out my kofi

“So what kinda man has got you all stirred up again?” 

Perry’s voice pulls Rhett out of one of his worst memories. “What?” He asks, there’s blood in his mouth, he’s ripped open the inside of his cheek yet again. 

“Well, don’t tell me it’s that same boy from your class, just all grown up,” Perry chuckles. They’ve both abandoned the fence now, but Perry is still crouching down to pick up the hammer, looking up at his younger brother. 

Rhett didn’t expect this reaction at all. After that memory hit him like a truck, he braced himself for another angry growl, and Perry forcing him to push it all back down like the first time. His tongue pushes into the new hole in his cheek, and he frowns. “It’s no one from Wabang if that’s what you’re askin’.” There’s a pause, and Perry has turned back to inspect the post, making sure it’s straight and sturdy before he takes the hammer and pushes his chin out, gesturing with his head to direct Rhett to the next post a little further down. 

They walk. Rhett is still worrying his injured cheek with his tongue, and Perry doesn't ask any more questions. “I met someone on the rodeo circuit,” he says once they are standing in front of the next green post. He doesn’t know why he’s still talking, Perry doesn’t really want to know, and Rhett doesn’t really want to tell him, but some part of him must be hoping that his big brother can do something to fix it for him, make it go away. Make him good again.

“Well, good,” Perry nods with a smile.

“Good?” 

“Yeah, good. Once the season is over, you can forget all about this guy, and everything will go back to normal.”

Rhett doesn’t say anything else, only grabs the hammer from Perry, and they switch positions with no words, taking out his frustrations on the post in front of them. Despite what Perry thinks, he’s not thirteen anymore, and this is not going to go away. Even as drunk as he was, he could never forget the boy he kissed in a horse trailer after the best ride of his life. 

***

The crowd is roaring in his ears, but it’s muffled by the sound of his own heartbeat and his heavy breathing, both steady and sure. That’s the one piece of advice he always remembers from his dad. If you’re calm and you keep your heart steady, you’re gonna win every time. It’s when people get erratic and nervous that they make stupid mistakes. Rhett knew before the buzzer sounded and his feet hit the dirt that he would win; it was just a matter of seeing it on the board. 

He stands in the middle of the arena and turns toward the giant leader board. There’s a moment of silence, and then his name ticks to the top of the board, knocking down the name that just held that spot down to second place. The roar of the crowd fills his ears again, and he can’t help but celebrate on his way out of the arena. A near-perfect ride, next time, he promises himself a perfect one, even if his dad isn’t here to see it. 

It’s later, when he’s already four beers deep, that he gets tapped on the shoulder, and he turns around to see a man a full head shorter than him, only coming up to his shoulder. “Hey, man, if you wanna buy me a beer, I should warn you that there’s a pretty long line.” So, maybe he was a little cocky but in his defense, every person who even recognized him that night offered to buy him a drink. 

The man in front of him only chuckled with an easy smile. “Actually, I just came to tell you you had a great ride.” He holds out his hand. “Sutter Morgan,” 

Rhett shakes his hand back, but he can’t keep his eyebrows from drawing together.  That name sounded so familiar, but he couldn’t place it; four beers made his brain foggy. “Rhett Abbott,”

The guy laughs, and the sound makes a smile slide its way onto Rhett’s lips. “No, I know, you’re the guy who knocked me down to second place on the leaderboard. 

That makes Rhett’s soft smile turn into a look of recognition, that’s why the name was so familiar. “Better luck next time?” He chuckles a little awkwardly. He wasn’t about to apologize for riding the way that he did, he was damn proud of it, but there was something about this man in front of him that threw him off his game. 

“Yeah thanks,” Sutter smirks, then looks back toward the bar where the line is finally dwindling. “Hey, you still want that drink even though we’re technically supposed to be rivals?” 

“Rivals?” Rhett snorts, “Didn’t know I was a character in a Marvel comic.” 

Sutter can’t help but roll his eyes. “Do you want the beer or not?”

——

Tag list: @sebsxphia @rhettsunshine @fairyheart @theoraekenslover @becks-things @mustaaarrd @its-ares @statichvm @pagesfromthevoid @howtodisappear444 @girlcowboy @pascalfavor

[borkunlimited]

Where the Vernal Wind Blows (Sylus x Reader) - Ch. 2

Lost in the Kazdelian desert, Sylus was close to accepting his fate of meeting his end in a desolate region until he met a certain banshee who finds amusement in his misfortune. In which Sylus believes your first meeting should have been the last then you and him keep meeting again and again until- -He ended up replacing the role of your previous guard. A Banshee! Reader x Vampire! Sylus Fic Tags: Sylus x Reader, AU, Crossover, Mentions of War, Blood, Violence, Slow Burn, Enemies to LoversChapter Summary: Perhaps he has bitten more than he can chew when he agreed to travel with you but when the expedition finally comes to a close, an opportunity presents itself. Author's Note: I actually just want to write banter. I joked with my beta reader once if I can just post lines of banter with no context and call it a day. Anyways, sorry if the update on this took awhile. Working on a sewing project recently. Enjoy! AO3 Ch. 1 / Ch. 2

2: Of the Pale Sea and Twin Moons from the Faraway Sky

All that Stayrus can think about is he should have gone with Hoederer’s squad if he knew you would turn him into a burdenbeast.

“You’ll be rich after this contract, Stayrus,” Hoederer told him, patting him on the back while the rest of the mercenaries put away their gear after the Military Commission confirmed that all the Victorian drifters had been neutralized.

There is a degree of truth in his words because after potato peeler returned the initial payment to Ascalon (Begrudgingly since potato peeler is thinking of running away with it at first), the little puppy you call your guard tossed the pouch towards him instead of keeping it.

Why?

Apparently, according to your little shadow, you said that, “I am no longer feeling generous on giving mercenaries job opportunities.” and any mercenary she brings to you is immediately sent out of your tent, most of them pissed at the little Sarkaz for wasting their time.

It is supposed to be an easy job (A paid vacation as they said) for the likes of him who have his name in the top rankings of the Scar Market.

Except, you decided to turn him not only as your guard but a servant as well.

Two weeks have already passed and maybe it is the heat from the Kazdelian wilderness that still permeates at night or perhaps your shit-eating grins that the bounty over your head is growing more enticing to claim with every second passed.

“Too heavy, Stayrus?”

A load of Sarkaz expletives almost rolled out of his mouth upon hearing your question that yes, a gust of the cool night wind is enough to tip him over but he learned on the second day that every mumbled complaint from him will be greatly ‘rewarded’ by you in the form of another pack full of items you picked up along the way.

One of them contains shards. 

Originium shards.

Originium shards that weigh more than five kilograms that you claim will benefit Her Highness greatly and a mercenary should not ask questions so it took him great restraint to snap back at you how exactly a bunch of rocks will help Her Highness feed the nation.

Some emissary you are.

“Don’t you have eyes beneath your veil?”, he replied to you who finds amusement in his suffering even to the point you are matching his pace as if to see when he will break.

“Do you want to check if I do?”

“Are you offering?”

“I am actually feeling incredibly selfish tonight so no, I am not.”

“Just tonight, Miss Banshee? Or everyday?”, he retorted, knowing this is your subtle way of getting back to him over a sweet treat you were deprived of.

Yes, he is sure you only agreed to hire him to punish him for that.

It would have been easier to deal with you if it wasn’t for your little guard quietly hovering behind him, waiting for him to make one false move so she could have an excuse to take him down.

Small as she is, Stayrus can say she is strong for a Sarkaz child after witnessing her take down a bandit twice her size while you just stood by the sideline, cheering for her instead of helping.

Yet, he knows you do not need the little puppy to defend you but he is certain someone had ordered her to follow you around for their piece of mind and he is sure that someone isn’t Her Highness who gave out that task.

Someone else who is equal in importance.

(The little puppy’s skills aren’t acquired on her own, that one he is also sure. Someone trained her, someone very experienced.)

“Do you want to see my eyes that bad, vampire? I am flattered but I am just a humble banshee.”

“A humble banshee that casts a hex at me every time she could.”

“It isn’t my fault I have a willing volunteer.”

“Oh now you are admitting you are doing it on purpose,” he snapped back, keeping track of how many times that you, the most humble of all Banshees as you call yourself, have these little ‘accidents’ every time you weave your own incantations when your group calls it a day.

Accidents that always spared Ascalon but not him.

(“Oh no, I am so sorry, Stayrus!”, you exclaimed the first time it happened before giving him that signature shit-eating grin and you do not feel sorry at all when a pair of Feline ears sprouted on top of his head with a tail of matching color on his behind that only went away after a 24 hours.)

It is clear that you aren’t doing it out of boredom because if anything, you are having a grand time on a barren wasteland of all places.

You did not grace him with a reply even when you always want to have the last word in every conversation with him and that only happens when the strange contraption you call a compass makes a soft ticking sound, your attention immediately towards it.

Stayrus doesn’t need to see your eyes beneath your veil because he is sure you are wearing a manic expression of every scholar who is on the verge of a new discovery.

(Your strange device based on his observation points you to old ruins and no, he didn’t ask why you are so obsessed with wreckages that all it takes is one last sandstorm to be completely erased from the map. If it is even on the map in the first place.)

At least you have other interests other than poking fun at him.

Of course, your little puppy is already right there behind you every time you run off to inspect a building barely holding on, leaving him behind to catch up as if the three of you are tourists and the pale sea is the winding streets of the old city of Iberia, the country of sailors and explorers.

He will just have to bear with you for three months.

Three months of being your guard turned into premium entertainment.

Three months of being subjected to your useless incantations.

Three months of shoving the thought of dragging you to the Scar Market so he can have the price of your head for himself.

After this, he will never entertain offers from Sarkaz children carrying oriron shards equivalent to their weight.

────────────────────

“We are a scattered nation.”

Those are the words Her Highness had told you before you returned to the Convallis after the conclusion of your last expedition. 

You have been good friends with her for many years and aside from the irritating (and ‘amusing’, her words, not yours) tale of meeting Mr. No-Sense-of-Direction that brought a ghost of a smile on her face, your search for the other Sarkaz tribes while mapping Kazdel still made her dismayed.

Perhaps she is right, your bloodkin had long made their exodus, pulling their roots from this rotting land then walking away, never to return.

Gargoyles, the children of soil and stone, have left all known settlements and only their clay figures remain in their homes now gathering dust.

Wendigos, the first of the Sarkaz tribes to walk Terra, has now pledged their allegiance to the Ursine tsar that rules over the harsh tundra where the bears and hippogriffs clash.

Liches, enthralled with their quest for knowledge as ever, are too deep in their debates in their universities scattered across Leithania.

Still, you haven’t lost hope in looking for the rest of your kin, the strange contraption gifted to the Sarkaz Royal Court by Lord of the Liches and then handed to you by Her Highness coupled with the stars shining above the pale sea is sufficient for you to be able to return to the ruins you refused to venture further when you first discover them.

Why?

They are either crawling with bandits or- 

(There was an instance where you had the misfortune of meeting angels with their glowing halos and firearms who wasted their ammos at you once they realized you were a Sarkaz, the devil as they said.)

-The ruins are protected by complex originium altars that you would rather dismantle than destroy them so you can take them back home with you.

(For research purposes, of course.)

“Should I go ahead and do a recon?”, Ascalon asked, her eyes already looking for any entrances and exits on a desolate building ahead of your group.

Your capable guard is always eager to prove herself but why would you let her do such menial tasks when both of you can sit down, eat berry cookies, and have the vampire prick do it?

“No need,” you answered, stretching the syllables out as you slowly turned around to look at Stayrus who returned your grin with a glare.

It thoroughly amuses you when you see a hint of his fangs every time he tries to intimidate you and it does work more than you care to admit, partially because he is ridiculously tall too.

You slowly raised your hand, pointing at the bandits walking about.

 (He did not budge, still looking down at you, not happy at all.)

Then, you pull out your bone pen, the nib beginning to glow with a silver light as you waved it playfully right to his face because you learned along the way he is slowly figuring out how to break free from your go-to hexes.

(He sighed heavily, rolling his eyes and began to put each pack you had him carry one by one on the desert floor.)

Finally, he received a nod of approval from you.

(You chuckled when he intentionally brushed past you, giving you one last staredown before he made his way to clear out the ruins of its unwanted guests.)

“Miss, are you sure? He blew up the previous one two days ago.”

“Oh, he won’t this time.”

Who would have known that the vampire prick who loves inflicting pain upon you using his Arts does not rely on it much on the battlefield?

It certainly surprised you when he suddenly threw an explosive the first time to prevent the bandits from reaching your group and it took your entire being, your soul even, to not tell him to perish right where he stood when you saw a perfectly intact originium altar crumble to dust that you made sure he trip every ten steps he take.

So now, he gives everyone a free concussion with his bare fists, relying on his physical strength alone instead.

How unconventional for a Sarkaz vampire.

Still, you prefer this over the usual mess his kind does, the mess that clings on the walls, the scent of iron and carnage seeping past the cracks of the floor and into the soil because they are a proud race and a proud race usually always ensures the rest are inferior.

A horrifying lot if you say so yourself and now that you think about it-

-He is too in his own way.

The general wouldn’t be so happy once he finds out you hired a mercenary with this strength unless-

(Your gaze fell to Stayrus who was taking on a group of five and even when you and Ascalon stood a good distance from them, the wind carried the failed negotiation attempts from the bandits followed by the cracking of bones because it is clear to you the vampire prick is blowing off steam.)

-Unless you can turn this into your favor.

There is no way you are letting the general put you under house arrest again at the capital, not when your neighbors tried stealing your roof in the middle of the night.

Certainly, he would overlook this if you are able to find him new people for the Military Commission, right?

────────────────────

Ascalon was initially taken under the wing of the general after he and Her Highness found her wandering in the outskirts of the capital after a great sandstorm.

She is a girl from nowhere, no home, no family, her form of communication is mimicking what she hears around her and it is only under the kind tutelage of Her Highness that she began to piece together the sound of the word to their meaning.

Through Her Highness, she learned how to speak.

Through the general, she learned how to wield her blade properly.

Her final test, she would like to believe, is becoming your guard.

If only she has been older, she wouldn’t have to rely on other people, much less a mercenary to fill the gaps of her skills but here she is sleeping with one eye open as she watch over the vampire (“Prick”, you always add every time she refers to the mercenary in private conversation) hover about you since it is his turn to make sure you are not running off again.

Of course, Stayrus is not foreign to children with murderous intent, especially your little puppy who is most likely plotting his death right now in case he decides it is time to cash in that bounty over your head.

It is certainly enticing though, especially when you only let your guard down when you are too occupied writing or making a draft of the ruin your group is in.

It would be quick work, you wouldn’t even have time to speak or hold your pen and the little puppy, deadly as she is in her own right, is well, little.

Yet, he didn’t do any of that.

Instead, he slowly inches towards you, hovering over you so he can observe your work come to life, but he makes sure he still keeps a certain distance so you will not pick up his subtle fascination.

Letters. Each Kazdelian character is printed on every paper you have as if it came from a typewriter. 

Pens. You have a collection of them, all of them with various nibs and handles and your papers are always in a disarray but your pens? No, they are all neatly arranged and always near your reach.

Maps. It finally explains why you walk at this place as if it is the city, how you don’t rely on the fading markers from generations past in this expedition. This isn’t your first trip and he is sure it won’t be your last.

Perhaps he has been too obvious about it recently, standing closer and stooping down your height as you inspect a series of glyphs on a wall.

(Why are you fascinated with a bunch of symbols? He doesn’t know.)

“Bored, Stayrus?”

“I am bored enough to talk to you, Miss Banshee.”

“Oh, are you now? Then, go copy the glyphs for me then.”

“Copy them yourself,”, he replied and he should have just turned around, bearing the effects of whatever hex you have chosen to experiment on him today but curiosity won over and here he is, holding one of your cherished pens.

Unfamiliar.

Daunting.

Intimidating.

Those words are usually reserved for weapons, ones he is more accustomed to carrying yet his fingers trembled as he adjusted his grip, his eyes glancing to check how you held yours.

“A conductor from Leithania always had a steady wrist.”

It was the words from a radio he received from Goodenough, a travelling merchant, who threw it in for free after he invested valuable ingots in his ‘Prospective Investment System’ and it is only after shuffling through all stations during his downtime he stumbled across one who plays the acclaimed classical music of musical geniuses from Leithania.

He had never seen an orchestral performance before, let alone a conductor but perhaps you are one, for the pen seemed to follow your every move, every glide, a curve, every flick, a perfect sentence.

It should be easy, right?

That is until he saw your eager grin when you managed to push your job to someone else morphed into a frown after he turned over his hard work.

“Stayrus, is this your idea of a joke?”

“I’ll never make jokes around the likes of you, Miss Banshee.”

“Oh, is that so? What should we call this then? A new writing system?”

It is the most horrible penmanship you have ever laid eyes upon that if you didn’t specifically ask him to copy those glyphs, you would have thought this is random scribbles from a child.

This is even worse than the first time you ask Ascalon to write her name.

(Her Highness just playfully shrugged when you turned to look at her, knowing she was Ascalon’s first teacher in letters and numbers.)

“Sure, we can call it that way. Inventing is not only limited to smartass scholars like you,” he smirked and your eyes are not deceiving you, he is indeed serious.

For him, he knows this is ammunition for you, a scholar with an ego as high as Mount Karlan who is opportunistic as they come with every insult.

He was expecting you to laugh.

Ridicule him even.

Call him a liar then tell him you will put up this paper for display back at the valley where you came from so you and your literate sisters can laugh at it together over your tea time after you sang your elegies by the riverbank.

Yes, he will die on this hill rather than admit how pitiful he is and the other Sarkaz are in front of another who is fortunate to be born in a paradise.

Instead, you let out a heavy sigh, not when you see the faint hint of red on the tips of his pointed ears.

Mercenaries.

You can always rely on them for physical work but clerical ones?

They are hopeless.

“Alright, Mr. Inventor, let’s see more of your new writing system,” you said, shoving a dried tree branch on his hand.

Rough. These are the hands of someone who grew up picking oriron shards around the furnaces before the overseers tell them to scram.

With your bone pen, you proceed to write the characters of his name in the air. “This is how I write your name in my writing system. Show me yours.”

So that’s how his name is spelled in Kazdelian characters but he is careful not to show his fascination, his eyes flicking back and forth to copy each letter carefully in the sand.

“This is too easy, Miss Banshee.”

(No, it is not easy at all. How is it that his lines are crooked and yours aren’t?)

“Is it now? Your writing system is not so primitive then, vampire.”

(Behind his triumphant smirk at your words, a hint of gratitude for in a distant past, he can still recall the dust that clung on his palms as he stood in his tiptoes outside the window of a classroom only reserved for Sarkaz nobles.)

“Oh it is currently in the works. Unlike those goats in Leithania I have all the time in the world.”

(All the time in the world to improve his penmanship he means.)

The shifting schedule he and Ascalon had agreed upon is now discarded, not when he sends your little puppy to bed just so he can hover around you this time, waiting for you to initiate your lessons.

“Just leave my food by the fire, Ascalon.”

“Not Ascalon.”

“Oh, it’s you again, ‘Not Ascalon’. Here to brag about your new writing system again?”

“It isn’t my fault you are the only available scholar around these parts,” he scoffed and you chuckled in amusement, closing your travel journal and the star maps to make room for him.

Under the ancient stars and the distant glow of the campfire slowly flickering out, you and him sit down together on little chairs, his shoulder almost touching yours as he mumbled under his breath, attributing each letter to the sound it makes as the dried branch that had become a permanent member of his arsenal move across the sand beneath the light of the twin moons.

The fools who always make the banshees their muse were right when they claim your kind’s presence alone strikes inspiration.

Was it the perfume you wear, the aroma of spring that never goes away even under the desert sun?

Is it your voice that does have a melodious note to it when he listens closely?

Or maybe how he can catch a glimpse of the outline of your eyes beneath your veil?

Every now and then, your hand will be on top of his, warm, as you correct the crooked lines and flawed curves of his letters, that he began to see it as a gesture of silent truce.

During these quiet nights, you are his first teacher, he is one of your many students, and this is the closest he can have to a normal life here in Kazdel.

Until you decided to be your usual insufferable self during one of your lessons.

“Oh, Stayrus, just so you know, my teaching lessons only come for free to children or people below 4 feet.”

His eyes almost rolled at the back of his head when he heard your words because of course, her humble banshee’s acts of kindness don't come for free.

(Banshees strike inspiration but you? You strike irritation to him.)

“What? Are you asking for another dessert?”

“Not asking, I am demanding. You owe me two, just so you know.”

“Should I also get on my hands and knees while we are at it?”

He was met by your signature shit-eating grin instead, your hand pointing towards the ground in front you.

Little Miss Banshee really thinks she can get away with anything.

This time, he wouldn’t give you the chance to hex him and it doesn’t matter if your little puppy wakes up with what is about to come next.

A scoff followed by a snap of his fingers and your legs suddenly gave out as you let out a surprised huff.

“So nice of you to show me a demonstration, Miss Banshee,” he said slowly because oh, he is going to relish this first ever victory in this war you have waged and he held your chin, tilting it towards him as he looked down on you from his seat.

Not bad, not bad.

“Well, difficult students learn more when you demonstrate,” you grinned and all you can think about is you will make him eat dirt and maybe sand too.

Perhaps his victory is short and what he learned after is he should cover your mouth next time before you can even retaliate.

If there is a next time.

“KNEEL,” you said, and you almost rolled on the sands in laughter when you saw him on his hands and knees.

Mercenaries are supposed to move based on the actions of their employers but it amuses so much that this vampire prick still has a bone to pick with you even when you (Technically, the Military Commission) has paid him well.

Very well that it should be enough to buy him a ticket to a better off country and start anew yet he still linger in this land, why is that?

“I should charge you extra for this,” he muttered under his breath, both of you still not releasing each other’s Arts but you only smiled in amusement.

Well built.

Stubborn.

Determined.

He might be lacking in the reading and writing area but that can be addressed and oh, you will make his service to you very worthwhile.

Afterall, the general should have more men like him, even if he shares the same features as one of the former Sarkaz kings.

“I can do you even better, Stayrus.”

“Oh really? Are you offering free passes now to the Convallis?”

“Unless you are wearing the Civilight Eterna on your head then no.”

Stayrus didn’t open the letter you tucked on his jacket during the course of your expedition and he only did when you and him parted ways in a mining town after Ascalon handed him his final payment.

(No, there is no tip. Some employer you are.)

Your letter bears the insignia of the Elegiac Court, the gathering of the banshees, and he initially thought this is your one last hex to him once he opens but he still did.

A mercenary is a dispensable tool.

A mercenary lives from hand to mouth.

A mercenary has no place in a country who is slowly sailing towards a future where they are no longer needed.

Even with his limited vocabulary, he can pick up the keywords on the content of your letter and no, it isn’t addressed to him.

‘Recommendation’

‘Stayrus’

‘Worthy’

This letter is addressed directly to the general of the Military Commission.

────────────────────

Her Highness always laughs every time the general brings you up.

It all started as a knowing smile.

Her Highness was but a humble dressmaker serving as an apprentice in the Royal Court back then, gentle, soft spoken, and aside from her brother, the closest she can call for a friend are the sackcloth puppets she made for herself.

There was no place for her and her older brother in the Royal Court run by pureblooded Sarkaz nobles who silently scoffed at their presence, at their mixed ancestry and it was only because they were pupils of Nezzsalem, the commander of the Kazdelian War Council, that they do not have to bear the insults upfront.

(For who would be in their right mind to pick a fight with the commander who carries the scent of decay of all the enemies he had feasted upon?)

Although, only the adults have self-restraint.

It was her favorite sackcloth puppet, a cream colored bunny with blue buttons for eyes, that the children of the nobles tried to rip away from her arms but failed, not because Theresis managed to ward them off as always but of a certain banshee.

Dressed in the finest silks, hair braided lovingly, and carrying the scent of the reeds swaying gently by the stream, there you stand in front of the twins, casting one of your strange spells and sending every person who harassed them running to different directions.

(This is the first time both Theresis and Theresa laughed together in their new home, watching pig’s tail sprout to the noble children that see them unworthy to be there.)

Theresa had offered to mend the rip of your dress after that, and while the older banshees have gently reprimanded you for exploring the great halls of the Royal Court on your own even when you were told to stay put, it was all worth it for you have finally had friends who live outside the Convallis.

For Theresa, you are her first friend.

And for Theresis?

Theresa had a knowing smile on her face when she noticed that her brother, always gloomy for not being allowed to wield a sword just yet back then, always lightens up when they each receive a letter from you.

(Even when you have finally had permission to see the world, your letters will always find a way to reach them, even when they were in the midst of the war that led to Theresis crowning her as the new king, despite the Civilight Eterna having chosen them both.)

“She never wrote a letter of recommendation before.”

It is already late, the halls of the Royal Court are already empty but the streets of the capital are still bustling under the watchful eyes of the twin moons and Theresis can only sighed in resignation when he heard his younger sister laugh at his remark before she replies.

“Didn’t you mention you needed more people in the Military Commission?”

“The letter is unnecessary.”

“Perhaps the mercenary had proven himself a capable soldier.”

It is only after you return from your most recent expedition that the general found out that instead of bringing along his best officers, you and Ascalon went ahead and hired a mercenary.

Not just any mercenary but a rumored pureblooded vampire, the best in the market.

Who would have thought it is also the same vampire you help lead out of the desert during one of your lone explorations? The stranger you held a bitter grudge on for months over a dessert.

Theresis is very close to putting you under house arrest especially when he received news from the accountants that you billed the fees under the Military Commission’s name.

“I will have to see it for myself,” the general answered, and Theresa had known him for so long that he isn’t speaking as the leader of the nation’s military.

Her older brother who claims he is only looking after you because you are too free-spirited for your own good.

(If you are answering to him instead of her, Theresa is sure that her brother would have even accompanied you himself as an excuse to spend time with you, listening to you about your recent discoveries.)

Her older brother who indulges only you when you invite him to dance with the rest of the Sarkaz in the plaza during national holidays.

(“Theresa is already exhausted. Come on, at least try to be approachable,” you always tell him, knowing the rest of the attendees would loosen up if they see their general having fun.)

Her older brother who wears the subtle look of fondness when you show a recent incantation you created.

(Perhaps it is a certain quirk of every banshee to make strange spells for you always find amusement in making Feline ears grow from your unwilling test subjects to making people repeat their words twice when they open one of your journals.)

Is it the pressure of being her right hand man that Theresis contented himself to watch you from the side or perhaps she is looking into it too much? 

Yet, when Her Highness saw the frown on the general’s face as he reread your letter of recommendation for the third time, an idea came to mind.

A rather mischievous one too.

Perhaps a gentle push is all that her older brother needs.

Afterall, aren’t kings supposed to grant the wishes of their subjects?

────────────────────

Author's Note: Don't worry, Miss Banshee will pay for all her crimes (of making his life hell) soon. See you next chapter! AO3 Ch. 1 / Ch. 2

[crankycrab2]

You should be legally allowed to kill “expats” and “digital nomads” with hammers. I fucking hate them. Call yourself what you are like the rest of us we are immigrants. Well except for the fact that you are intentionally jacking up local economics in those “cheap” countries so bad locals can’t live there. People saying “oh the irony 😏” to this happening make me so mad. How to tell me you know literally nothing about anything in one sentence!

[road-hauler]

A very fed up concorde for your eyeballs

[cappybawa106]

Rivals 🎼🍎🦔

Close ups + Extras:

[call-me-pup2]

Ask follow up questions 🗣

You know, actually try and find information about the person you're talking to thats deeper than just, for example, finding out the name of their favourite movie. Ask them why its their favourite, would they recommend it, how does watching it make them feel, there's so many details to get!

Its not that hard to show a little interested because otherwise you just look like you don't actually like the person you're talking to 🥴

(This isn't about my asks on here lol I mean in actual one to one conversation)

[wackywatchdotcom]

something i genuinely adore about tadc is how painfully flawed everyone in the circus is. and not in a small way

everyone does SOMETHING that negatively impacts the others. but it makes the fact that you are supposed to sympathize with and really connect with them all the more potent. because its easy to want to put a bunch of characters in a bad situation together and to just have them all be nice to each other and everyone and never make mistakes because theres no reason to hurt each other, and most of them dont TRY to, but the way they cope is so, so realistic for each of their personalities, and it doesnt always mesh with the others, and sometimes it exceeds self destructive and Just Hurts Others, Too

they still generally care about each other and the mistakes they make and the ways they end up hurting each other dont lose their weight but like. it doesnt take away from their humanity and the fact that they are all trying so hard to manage in an awful situation

and the characters seem to have sooome sort of understanding of this too. not fully, because the characters dont tend to be 100% communicative, but when they hurt each other, it often makes EVERYONE uncomfortable. because these are the only people they have. these are their friends. and theyre all coping. but it doesnt change how much it affects them (best illustrated by ragathas lines at the start of ep 2 or gangles 'i love her, but after a while it gets kinda hard to tell how genuine shes actually being'). its not all like this, theres a good amnt of variety, but characters knowing this but not really knowing what to do about it is very painful in an effective way

(i think a subtle example of this is how zooble handles gangles situation in ep 4- they were so genuinely trying to help her because they care. but could tell as the day went on that oh, this is not working at all and its making things worse, and they leave gangle alone- something that very genuinely couldve been the moment she abstracted, because of the mask zooble gave her- and we dont get to have a super blatant explanation of zoobles thoughts on it, but they reach a fairly healthy conclusion about it that helps both of them, and i like that a lot, because on paper zooble could be placed at fault but the narrative doesnt dwell on it excessively, because thats not the point. i dont know if that tangent makes sense but i think about it sometimes. i think zooble wasnt 'to blame' but it was still a mistake, which is a hard balance to strike, and having them help at the end feels extremely effective at rounding it off!!!)

but like. in general its complicated balancing making characters in a bad situation act flawed because it can run the risk of seeming like the story is scolding them or blaming them for the situation theyre in, or like youre expected to not sympathize with them despite it (though the inverse also has complications- if characters in a bad situation never mess up, it feels unrealistic and hard to relate to, and can imply that their innocence is why whats happening to them is bad at all), but the show handles it so well

even the characters who are genuinely trying all try in different ways- some of them have similar outlooks or attitudes towards these thing but theres vital differences for ALL of them- sometimes it works and sometimes it doesnt. in fact some of the more painful mistakes characters have made in the show have come from them so genuinely trying (like the thing i mentioned w zooble, or basically Everything Ragatha Does, or pomnis first attempt at helping gangle, etc), which hits harder than if every mistake characters made had wholly selfish and cruel goals.

i mean, there is a selfishness to many of the characters' actions but imo not in a way thats not warranted. because all of them are in a horrible setting. its uncomfortable to watch characters be selfish. but it is a natural instinct to survive. its not the foundation of most of their actions, but when it is, its uncomfortable but hard to completely disparage them for in a way that makes you feel kinda conflicted

and like. it hurts to be doing your best and for that to make things worse, but its what happens often in the show. because no one in a bad situation is gonna handle it well. by the very nature of trying to survive something is gonna give, but it makes the themes of the show so much more powerful. that making sure the people around you dont feel unloved, cherishing them and finding meaning with others is no less important just because everyone is fucking up. it complicates things, for sure, but it doesnt make those characters exempt fromt this. theres a reason pomni tells gummigoo that she doesnt want "anyone" to feel like theyre nothing, and that kinger doesnt add ANY quallifiers to making sure people feel wanted and loved (not that i think either of them were thinking SUPER super hard, but it conveys smth from the perspective of the narrative

it gets complicated when you add in jax for sure, since i think on the surface he IS the exception to this concept- none of the characters like him, including pomni or kinger. but i think this is something thats gonna be examined further down the line, bc hes the main complicating factor in this reading of the show, but i feel like thats on purpose. hes universally disliked (and so is caine, in a different way) and his actions arent mistakes. they are him coping. the show has made it clear that he can be a complex person AND also a piece of shit. his actions dont detract from the fact that hes a person and the show reminds us of this. so it makes things so messy, but im genuinely super excited to see how the show examines that. where his character goes is, imo, going to be a massive piece of how this show fleshes out this concept

[spaciebabie]

🌻go wild

yeah so people write wukong and macaque as touch starved and yeah they totally are but i dont think that most people write about/convey how deeply they are touch starved. from my very limited research (so dont take this as gospel (i plan on doing more)) monkeys are always touching up on each other in social groups. its a primary method for bonding. now i think wukong is less touch starved than macaque since he's on flowerfruit mountain surrounded by other monkeys. they probably all groom him and he grooms them they play they have their social dynamics but its always from a place where hes the ruler of them all in the social heirarchy so they all kind of have to do that. monkey society rules. so he suffers from a different kind of touch starvation where hes kind of been bombarded with it by his monkeys but its not 100% genuine yk? he'll always have their affection b/c hes their king but idk...maybe he wants someone he sees as an equal to be affectionate with.

now macaque has suffered from extreme isolation for hundreds of years probably and we know from Research™ (a la that one (cruel) study where scientists separated baby monkeys from their mothers to See What Would Happen) that this has probably fucked him up really bad. not as much as it would have if he were an infant monkey but that kind of isolation is detrimental. like no wonder hes snappy, distant, suspicious of others. he doesnt know how to act in these new social situations. and hes lacked one of the IMPERATIVE ways monkeys keep their sanity. just constant touching and grooming of each other and SOCIALIZING. this boy would CLING to ANYONE who offered him even the tiniest hint of affection. hed BEG for it its so fucked up. at first i thought that maybe it wouldnt be w/in his character, but doing outside research has made me realize it may be even more in character for macaque to be touchy than wukong. i can see macaque becoming really distraught if someone rejected his quite frankly, need for affection. it could be so interesting. someone who he comes to expect to always provide affection just. saying no once and how hed probably snap over it.

not even like. in a romantic sense either. monkeys just like touching each other. honestly something churning in my head rn is wukong and macaque reconciliating and then taking turns grooming each other out of respect + generally being cuddly completely platonically. its enthralling actually. not to mention completely in line w/how ive been imagining macaque and wukong. these boys do NOT kiss its all nuzzling and cuddling and maybe playful biting. ive also been reading up on (macaque specific but ive read it can also apply to other species of monkey) monkey behavior in general and like. ough. them just cooing and chittering at each other having conversations while grooming or laying around. lip smacking at each other affectionately. ouuuuagh. their own special little language nobody else understands. i read that macaques are especially cuddly w/one another after a fight. so like. macaque and/or wukong have some sort of end of the world fight deal and one of them comes over to the other to seek comfort. god its everything. we havent even factored in mk who regularly displays this comfort after battle behavior w/wukong.

i also think that exploring how their instinctual monkey behavior has mixed w/the behavior that they have learned mortals find acceptable. b/c. there's plenty of monkey behaviors that would make mortals eyes pop out of their heads if wukong or macaque were to do them around them LOL

monke.

[starry-sophrosyne]

me realizing i havent ever posted my initial designs for tox and leo/ive stopped talked about ttos as a whole:

[thatfriendlyanon]

i think part of my problem is i lived with my best friend for two years of my life and have been searching for the same feeling of joy & acceptance & support ever since

[sluckythewizard]

'I wont cry for you, I wont crucify the things you do. I wont cry for you, see, when you're gone, I'll still be BLOODY MARY'