#i will be plotting / replying to stuff soon hopefully!!
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hiya guys! discord drop since i changed my user, if anyone that wants to add me hasn't yet! shrimply like this post so I know if you DO add me >:)
#☆༉‧₊˚. ∬ 🐍 ∬ 𐃘 ooc#i will be plotting / replying to stuff soon hopefully!!#been a bit sluggish because i've been in an art frenzy but i have PLANY of joseph muse to go around....
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Caught You | 18+ Only

MASTERLIST
Pairing: Loki x F!reader
Words: 4012
Warnings/Content: SMUT; Avenger! Loki & Avenger! Y/n, Themes of dub-con, dark-ish Loki??, dom!Loki, pervy!Loki, possessive, jealous loki, use of loki's magic (in a lot of sexual stuff), restraints, bondage, biting, licking, aggressive, pissed loki, praise, slight degradation, there's a tattoo on y/n's thigh (for the plot!), other mcu characters also make an appearance, clit licking, fingering, overstimulation, p in v.
Please lmk if I missed anything! Loki is a bit of red-flaggy in this one, please keep in mind this is only a fanfiction.
Summary: When you make fun of Loki's magic, he "demonstrates" how his magic can be useful. In many, ehm..ways. What did you expect?
A/n: i moved the title in the corner so that i can keep seeing tommys's sexy face in the middle 😮💨 im trying to make my fics dirtier but it's not quite coming down in my works, like it's in my mind but it's not easy to express??? im trying & hopefully it'll come soon
The cavernous, dimly-lit warehouse echoed with the sounds of clashing metal and grunts of exertion. The Avengers were locked in combat with a band of mercenaries armed with advanced weaponry.
Tony was in the air, repulsor beams lighting up the darkness, while Natasha and Clint worked in tandem, their movements precise and deadly. Thor’s hammer, Mjölnir, was a blur as it struck down the enemies with thunderous force.
In the midst of the chaos, Loki stood with an air of detached amusement, casting spells with flicks of his wrists. His magic sent mercenaries flying, created illusions to confuse their ranks, and conjured barriers to protect the teammates. But Loki's magic, powerful and unpredictable, was also a bit reckless tonight.
Maybe it was the leather suit you were wearing today.
"Loki, for the love of—watch where you're aiming!" You shouted as you narrowly avoided being hit by a stray spell meant for an enemy.
Your eyes flashed with annoyance as you shot him a glare. "Are you trying to get us all killed?"
Loki smirked, eyeing you up, not taking you seriously. "Perhaps if you were more attentive, you wouldn't find yourself in such precarious positions, darling."
You scowled and ducked under a swipe from a mercenary, retaliating with a swift punch that sent your opponent sprawling.
Ugh, you hated how he always carried that stupid smirk.
"Maybe if your magic was actually useful, we wouldn't be in precarious positions to begin with!"
Loki's eyes narrowed slightly, a spark of irritation flashing through his otherwise calm demeanor. "Is that so? I seem to recall saving you from a similar predicament just last week."
"By causing it in the first place!" You shot back, dodging another mercenary's attack and taking him down with a well-placed kick.
Loki rolls his eyes and runs in the other direction. With a flick of his wrist, he conjured an illusion, making a group of mercenaries see each other as Avengers.
Confused, they turned on one another, giving the team a moment of respite. But the spell was too potent, and soon the illusion spread, affecting even the teammates.
Chaos erupted as friends and foes became indistinguishable.
"What the—" Tony exclaimed while flying over the scene.
"Damn it, Loki!" You screamed, ducking, as Natasha took a swing at you, mistaking you for an enemy.
"Enough!" Thor bellowed, his hammer smashing into the ground to create a shockwave that knocked everyone off their feet and dispelled the illusion.
The mercenaries, now disoriented, were quickly subdued.
The flight back home was quiet. Everyone was either tired, tending to their wounds, or just rethinking what happened back there.
Once you landed, the rest of the Avengers stepped down the Quinjet and walked into the building to their rooms.
"Loki, wait." Steve calls out and walks towards Loki in the lobby.
“About today—”
“Nobody died, Rogers.” Loki replies.
"That is not an achievement," You murmur to yourself loudly on purpose for him to hear while taking a sip from your favourite grey-coloured sipper.
Loki and Steve both glanced at you, with Steve carrying a hint of a smile on his face while Loki scowled and turned back to Steve.
You could tell he was not impressed.
A win for you.
Steve clears his throat, turning serious once more. "Look, what happened today was not good. We cannot work as a team if we don't know half of your tricks."
Loki grins. "Well, that's the fun, isn't it? A surprise for everyone.”
Steve raises his eyebrows. "But it isn’t helping, Lo-"
"Helping? His magic is useless half the time."
Loki shoots an eye at you when you say that, and you could tell the God wasn't pleased.
"He's showing off in front of everyone, like the arrogant ass he is." You go on, while Loki watches you with his grave, sharp eyes.
Why wasn't he replying with his usual snarky comments today?
Steve gives a light chuckle and pats Loki's shoulder as if feeling sorry for him, "Be careful next time, that's all I ask," and walks away through the corridor, leaving you and Loki to yourselves.
While waiting for the elevator, you silently stand in front of the doors, waiting for it to arrive.
Until you feel a hard pressure against your back.
The sensation is unmistakable—a solid, unyielding presence, warm and firm. Loki's chest. His closeness sends an involuntary shiver down your spine. You can feel the steady rise and fall of his breath and subtle heat radiating through his clothes.
You stiffen, unsure whether to move away or stay still, the elevator's arrival feeling like an eternity away.
You decide to say something to break the uncomfortable silence.
"Ego broken, Loki~?" You say his name in a sing-song voice.
"Do you enjoy testing my patience, mortal?" he says, leaning down to your ear.
"Someone has to keep you in check," you reply, your voice steady despite the proximity.
The elevator reaches your floor, and with a little chime, its doors open. You proceed to take a step forward to enter the elevator when his hand grabs hold of the back side of your neck and pulls you back to him.
"Careful," he almost whispers, his breath ghosting over your skin, "your tongue is going to get you in trouble one day."
You pause for a moment, feeling the tension thicken in the air, before you turn your head out of his hands to look at him. "Oh, I'm sorry, did I hurt the big bad trickster's feelings?" You taunt, your voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Maybe if your magic wasn't so unreliable, we wouldn't be in these messes. Or do you need Daddy Odin to give you some pointers on how to actually be useful?"
Loki's eyes flare with fury, and in no time he grabs your neck once again and strides into the elevator, pinning your head to the panels. His body pressed against yours with a force that left little room for doubt about his intensity.
His frame, tall and lean yet undeniably strong, exerting a commanding presence as he pins you against the cool metal of the elevator wall. You can feel the heat emanating from his body, a stark contrast to the chill of the metal against your cheek.
He was so close to you, you could smell his sultry, intoxicating smell on him.
"You think my magic is useless, don’t you..." He whispers, his breath ghosting on your skin. "I’ll make sure you regret saying that."
"I don't "think", it's a fact." You try to push him back with your elbow. “Let me go, Loki.” You say it firmly.
"Not yet, vixen." He says so, and the elevator doors shut by themselves. And with one flick of his fingers, the front chain of your tight leather suit yanked open down to the end of your belly.
Did he just–
"I’ll make sure to demonstrate how useful my magic can be." He says and looks down to notice you were not even wearing a bra underneath.
He grins at the sight, licking his lower lip. "Naughty girl." He coos in your ear while his fingers work their way to your belly.
His fingers, though possessing a hint of coldness at first, quickly warmed against your skin as they made contact with your belly. Each touch sent a jolt of electricity through you, igniting a fire that danced just beneath the surface.
"Let. Me. Go." You say, trying to stand your ground, but your attempts are futile.
"Told you no, darling." He says while his fingers trailed up to your nipples, sending a shiver down your spine as goosebumps rose in their wake.
It was a sensation that left you feeling exposed and vulnerable, yet strangely exhilarated by the raw intensity of his touch.
He slides down your suit from your shoulders, proceeding with a graze of his tongue on your skin.
"Mmm…sweet," he murmurs, sucking on your shoulder, "unlike those words you use."
"FUCK. YOU." You reply with a gruff.
Loki chuckles darkly against your skin, his breath hot and tantalizing. "Oh, darling, you will," he murmurs, his voice dripping with seductive menace. "But not before I teach you to respect a God."
He pulls down your suit lower, his lips kissing the back of your neck, followed by melty little kisses down your bareback. Despite your discontent, you couldn’t help but feel turned on by him.
As Loki pushes down your suit to your thighs, his eyes catch sight of a small tattoo etched on the inside of your thigh. The ink reads the name of your ex-boyfriend. Loki's eyes darken with a mix of curiosity and possessiveness.
He paused, his brows furrowing as he read the name inked there. "Well, well, well," he murmured, his voice a mix of curiosity and disdain. "So that’s what your little skirt was hinting at the meeting a few days ago..."
He traced the tattoo lightly with his finger, sending a shiver through your body.
So this bastard was always watching you?
You grit your teeth, anger and embarrassment flushing through you. "It’s none of your business, Loki."
He tightens his grip on your neck slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to assert his dominance. "I know."
"But this mark... it irks me. An insignificant mortal claiming a part of you." He pinches your thigh, and you try to jerk away your leg but cannot.
You squirmed against his grip, but he held you firmly, his eyes dark and intense as they bore into yours. "Let it go, Loki," you demanded, trying to maintain your composure.
He leaned closer, his lips brushing against the tattoo. "Why should I?" he whispered, his voice a dangerous purr. "Why should I let some forgotten lover's mark go unchallenged?"
He gives you a rather harsh bite on your shoulder, trailing his lips to kiss your neck, which makes you whimper, which makes him grin.
He pulls away a bit, and with the flick of his wrists, an invisible force pins your arms above your head, securing you in place against the elevator wall. You struggle briefly, but the bonds hold firm. Loki steps back, his eyes raking over your exposed form with a predatory gaze.
Before you could retort, he bent down, turning his body against the elevator and facing you from below. He kissed the tattoo with deliberate slowness, his lips soft and maddeningly sensual.
The act was both possessive and teasing, with his tongue swirling repeatedly on the same spot that was making you crazy. You gasped, the sensation overwhelming, and a part of you hated how your body responded to his touch.
"Shh, people can still hear us, darling. Even if they cannot enter." He says placing pecks up and down your thigh, evaporating your steady facade away.
"Now, let's see what other secrets you're hiding," he murmurs, his hands sliding down to your hips. He hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down and exposing you completely.
You saw his eyes almost sparkle at the sight, placing a kiss on your mound, making you flinch against the metal. Where and when did your suit disappear? You didn’t know.
He leans close and starts exploring your already wet clit with his tongue. Holding your waist in his hands, he kept stealing glances up at your aroused form, watching your expressions while you gasped every time his warm tongue darted on your needy pussy.
The god had a talent for his tongue. The silver tongue.
"Are you still with him?" He murmured, pulling away his face from your pussy, making you let out a complaining whine.
He holds up his two fingers to caress your folds. "Answer."
"N-no…" You answer, your voice quivering in pleasure.
"Then why isn’t it off?" He says this, glancing at your tattoo.
"I never…Loki-"
He pushes two fingers in. "You never what?"
You shudder as Loki's fingers push inside you, his question hanging in the air, demanding an answer. Your mind races, caught between the intense pleasure and the need to explain yourself.
"I never... had the chance," you manage to gasp, your voice barely steady. "It didn't mean anything anymore. I just...fuck-forgot about it."
Loki's eyes narrow slightly as he studies your face, his fingers moving slowly inside you, curling and stroking in a way that makes coherent thoughts nearly impossible. He doesn't seem entirely convinced.
"Forgot about it?" he repeats, his voice low and dangerous. "Or perhaps you wanted a reminder of something you couldn't let go?"
"No…" You moan, writhing against the panel with your hands above your head, your fingers aching to dive into his hair.
He starts to pump his fingers in and out of you with a deliberate rhythm, his thumb circling your clit with maddening precision. You squirm, your faint moans echoing the elevator.
"Good," he murmurs, his voice a seductive purr. "Because I don't share, darling. And I don't like to be reminded of what once was."
You moan, your body arching against his touch. His words send a thrill through you, and the possessiveness in his tone both intimidating and exhilarating.
"You know I can just turn you into a pretty mannequin for me so I can do whatever I want with you…but I want to feel you squirm... to mewl... like a little prey." He says watching your face while feeling your pussy start to clench around his fingers.
"Now, let's make sure you never forget who you belong to, hm?" Loki whispers, his lips brushing against your thigh as he speaks. His mouth returns to your clit, his tongue flicking and sucking with a relentless intensity that drives you wild.
"Yeah, that’s right, just keep on making those little sounds for me." He says it with a satisfied smile curling on his lips, and he resumes his ministrations with renewed fervor.
The combination of his fingers inside you and his mouth on your clit sends you spiralling into a mind-shattering orgasm, your body convulsing with pleasure as you cry out his name.
As the waves of ecstasy subside, Loki slowly withdraws his fingers. He stands, his eyes locking onto yours. He releases your binds away and turns you to him, and his thumb caresses your lower lip as if studying it for a second before he holds you against the wall, cupping your cheek, and kisses you almost fiercely.
And gosh, you needed that. You needed that and more.
"Y/n, is that you?"
Both of you freeze to your seats when you hear Thor’s voice outside the elevator.
Loki's eyes narrow in annoyance, and he quickly glances towards the elevator doors. "Shh," he murmurs against your lips, his voice barely a whisper. "We wouldn't want to get caught now, would we?"
He continues exploring your mouth, and the kisses start spreading to your neck, tongue, and teeth, making their wild appearances every once in a while.
Until you couldn’t help it and let out a moan.
"This door is not openi- Y/n??" Thor repeats again. "Wait, let me call Stark.-"
Your heart races when Thor calls out again because of your moan. Loki’s eyes narrow, and he pulls away. "Are you doing this on purpose? Just another one of your games so we can get caught and you can have your fun?"
He gives your pussy a little slap, and you whine a no.
In a swift motion, he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you tightly against him. You barely have time to register the shift before the air around you shimmers and the familiar confines of the elevator vanish, replaced by the opulent and dimly lit interior of a room unknown to you.
The room is a stark contrast to the sterile metal of the elevator. Rich tapestries line the walls, and candles flicker, casting a warm, golden glow. A large, ornate bed dominates the space, its dark, luxurious linens inviting in a way that makes your heart race.
Loki wastes no time. He sweeps you off your feet, carrying you to the bed with an urgency that sends a thrill through you. He lays you down gently, his gaze intense as he takes in your still-naked form. His hands trace over your skin, as if committing every inch to memory.
The air is thick with the scent of sandalwood and something uniquely Loki—intoxicating and alluring. "Now, where were we?" He purrs, his fingers tracing a delicate line down your spine, sending shivers through your body.
You can barely catch your breath; the intensity of the moment overwhelming. "Loki, what if Thor—"
"Thor won't find us," Loki interrupts, his voice a low growl. "This is my domain. No one enters without my permission."
"Now," he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear, "let us continue our little magic demonstration."
The silken sheets cool against your heated skin, and with Loki's hands everywhere—caressing, teasing, exploring every inch of your body—his touch both gentle and demanding, leaving you breathless and craving more.
"So beautiful," his voice dripping with seductive menace as he conjures a binding spell that secures your wrists to the bedposts.
You gasp, your body arching against the restraints, as Loki's mouth finds your breasts, his tongue swirling around your nipples with maddening precision. The sensations are overwhelming, and your mind is lost in a haze of pleasure and need.
Loki's mouth moves with deliberate precision, his tongue tracing intricate patterns over your breasts. Each flick of his tongue sends jolts of pleasure through your body, making you arch and writhe against the silken sheets. The restraints on your wrists keep you firmly in place.
"Loki…"
"Mhm," he hums, enjoying your squirms. But he wanted more.
He uses his powers to amplify his touch, making your nerve endings sing with heightened sensitivity. You gasp and moan, the intensity of his magic overwhelming your senses.
You can feel the magic pulsating through you, heightening your awareness of every touch and every kiss. His lips move from your breasts to the sensitive skin just below, his tongue flicking out to taste you. The combination of his mouth and his magic almost too much to bear.
His free hand trails down your body, leaving a path of fire in its wake. As his fingers reach your inner thighs, you feel a new surge of his magic, more potent and concentrated. It wraps around your thighs, making your muscles quiver with anticipation.
Loki conjures small, delicate tendrils of magic that wrap around your nipples, gently tugging and twisting. The sensation is unlike anything you've ever felt before—a perfect blend of pleasure and pain that leaves you gasping for breath.
He moves lower, his mouth leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down your belly. The tendrils of magic follow his path, amplifying every sensation, making you feel as if your skin is on fire. You can barely think or breathe; your mind consumed by the overwhelming pleasure.
As he reaches your hips, his fingers part your folds, and you feel a rush of cool air against your wetness. His mouth hovers just above your clit, his breath hot and tantalizing.
"Tell me, darling," Loki whispers, his lips brushing against your most sensitive spot, "how does it feel to be at the mercy of a god?"
Before you can answer, his tongue flicks out, teasing your clit with delicate, precise strokes. His magic enhances every touch, making you moan and writhe against the restraints. You can feel your orgasm building, the pleasure coiling tight in your belly.
"Loki I-" He sees your upcoming orgasm and pulls away quickly, enjoying your needy, complaining moan for him.
"Not so easy, darling."
And with another display of his magic, he completely gets rid of his clothes, his disrobed body turning you on even more, the heat of need between your legs almost unbearable.
He brings his already-hard cock near your lips. "Kiss it." and you do, the light hum of satisfaction he makes making you want to absolutely suck him out rather than just a little kiss.
"My filthy little vixen," he says, eyes blazing with hunger as he positions himself between your legs. His grip tightens on your hips, holding you in place as he teases your entrance with the tip of his cock, the sensation sending shivers of anticipation through you, "get ready for your god."
He lets out a low growl, a dark and seductive sound, before slowly pushing into you, his length stretching and filling you completely. The feeling is exquisite, with every inch of him sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
"You feel so perfect," Loki murmurs, his voice husky with desire. "Every part of you was made just for me."
He begins to move, slow and deliberate, his thrusts deep and controlled. Each motion designed to draw out the maximum pleasure to make you feel every inch of him. The binding spell keeps your wrists secured to the bedposts, preventing you from reaching out to touch him, to claw at his back as the pleasure intensifies.
Loki's eyes never leave yours, the connection between you palpable and electric. He leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with the same intensity as his thrusts. You respond eagerly, your moans muffled against his lips, your body arching to meet his.
His magic continues to amplify every sensation, making your skin hypersensitive, every touch sends sparks of pleasure through you. The tendrils of magic around your nipples tighten and twist, adding to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body.
"Loki," you gasp, barely able to form coherent words. "I can't... it's too much..."
He smirks, his eyes dark with lust. "You can take it, darling. You will take it. You will take everything I give you."
His pace quickens, and his thrusts become more urgent and more demanding. The bed creaks beneath you, the sound mingling with your moans and the wet, slick sounds of your bodies moving together. The pleasure builds rapidly, creating a coiling heat in your belly that threatens to consume you entirely.
Loki's hand moves between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing in tight, precise circles. The additional stimulation pushes you closer to the edge, your body trembling with the effort to hold back your impending orgasm.
"Come for me, darling," Loki commands, his voice a low, seductive growl. "Come for your god."
His words are your undoing. With a cry, you shatter, the orgasm ripping through you with an intensity that leaves you breathless and shaking. The pleasure is overwhelming, your vision going white as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you.
Loki continues to thrust through your orgasm, prolonging your pleasure, his own release imminent. His movements become erratic, his grip on your hips tightening as he chases his own climax.
You can feel him throbbing inside you, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he finally lets go, his own orgasm ripping through him.
With a final, powerful thrust, he spills into you, his groan of pleasure vibrating through your body. He collapses on top of you, his weight comforting and grounding as you both catch your breath, the aftershocks of pleasure still coursing through you.
For a moment, there's only the sound of your ragged breathing, the scent of sex and sweat heavy in the air. Loki's hand comes up to gently cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear of overwhelming pleasure.
"Fuck, you drive me wild." He murmurs breathlessly.
"Did you like that, darling?" Loki murmurs against your skin, his voice a seductive purr. "My magic can do so much more."
You breathlessly chuckle while he traces patterns on your skin. His fingers caress down to your thigh, where he glances at your tattoo.
"We can’t have that." He says in a low voice and grazes his hand over your skin, and the tattoo vanishes. Loki’s touch lingers on your thigh where the tattoo once was, his magic leaving your skin smooth and unmarked.
"And now you’re mine."
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🗝️ ”Keys Are People, Too” 100 Chapter Q&A ⭐️ (ongoing!)
(Last edit: 12/20 10:40 CST)
Hi! :) If y’all don’t know me my name is Inco (it’s not but shh) and I write a fanfiction for Cinderella Boy called Keys Are People, Too. It’s not finished, it’s ongoing and rapidly approaching 100 chapters XD (yes we are like four chapters away but shh rounding) (I PROMISE WE’RE ALMOST TO THE LAST ACT). So because of an ask from @isitamia and, we’ll say the 100 chapter milestone… tada Q&A??
I don’t know how many people are going to engage with this but that’s totally okay :) I love ranting about stuff and I’ve put a lot of thought into this story, so it would be cool to have an outlet to answer some questions where they don’t get forgotten in AO3 comments. And if you guys also have general questions about writing advice/things like that, I am not an expert but I do also like talking about stories.
So please ask! I’m not planning to close this at any specific time—I was thinking y’all could comment questions under this post or via reblogs (I might miss them in reblogs though) and I will edit this post to answer them, and also reply to you so you know your question is answered. This might get like 10 notes and that’s fine haha (I have zero idea how many people regularly read my story beyond the ones who leave comments), but if there are a lot of questions I’ll try to categorize them. Really just a place to drop info for fun :)
Q&A below ⬇️
I tried to make it organized. It's... kind of organized. Kind of.
Plot/Characters
"What key archetype isn't one of the siblings? Do we get to know their archetypes soon?" asked by @spookieee28 12/20
I'm not gonna say the archetypes at this point in time because it risks spoilers. You will find out by the end of the story and hopefully by that points all of the archetypes should be relatively clear. Some have already been mentioned like the chapter "Heralds and Thieves" for Jade and Cooper, I think (?) Cora has been mentioned as the Innocent archetype, etcetera.
"Which character do you struggle writing the most and which feels easier for you, if you have preferences?" asked by @isitamia 12/20
"Do you ever struggle with keeping Cinderella Boy's canon characters in character?" asked by @isitamia 12/20
I'll answer both of these together. Chase is pretty easy for me because I just channel chaotic gremlin energy and it seems to work. Buddy is OKAY although I am struggling right now making him vulnerable while still retaining him Buddy-ish-ness if that makes sense? Deacon is just Deacon... I am sorry, I feel like I don't really do anything to characterize him, he's just there as a sounding board XD I will say- I daydream situations for CB ALL THE TIME which gives me a lot of comfortability with the canon characters and considering what they would do and say and how they would react. I do have a little bit of difficulty characterizing the human keys so I just kinda went like "oh WELL that's because, UUHHHH, the key siblings don't match the keys exactly! That's it that's the answer!" because I felt like Silver wasn't quite Silver-ish and stuff. As for struggling writing the most I have two main answers.
BRONTE. For those who maybe haven't read this but are scrolling through it anyway, or aren't there yet, Bronte is the "human" version of Bronze and I kinda accidentally eliminated him from the story until like... the 80th chapte ror something like that. I had a lot of trouble actually writing his dialogue and scenes with Chase. It just did not have Bronze's snarky energy. So that was tough and I feel bad because I really feel like I did not do him justice :c
DUKE RAVENELL!!!!!! Ravenell hates me. He gives me so much trouble primarily because I just plunked him in at the beginning and didn't give him a real personality beyond a few vague notions. I've really had to sculpt his character as I went and it's especially difficult because Ravenell is intended to do a lot of plot device-ing. He perpetuates a lot of themes in the story and he is a HUGE character foil to Chase, because he often reflects the opposite of Chase's (and Idonea's) values and intentions. I want him to be morally grey and I am constantly fighting a BATTLE with this man to make sure he isn't too likeable or too hateable. I posted on Tumblr like a week ago really just asking for a diagnostic and the response made my day because people are all OVER the place about this man, some people love him, some will never forgive him, some are like "he's alright but there's something off about him and I can't help but distrust him" and others are like "I know he keeps making mistakes but I can't help but trust him" and I LOVE IT. Fortunately I think he's finally in a place perception-wise where I want him. I want the confusion. So badly. Only now I have to continue to fight this stupid tug-o'-war to keep him properly dividing until the end of the story XD
Behind the scenes
"How did you come up with the plot for KAPT? Was it just a little thought that popped up in your head one day, or did you have like inspiration or something?" asked by @xcitrix 12/20
"Did you have an idea for how you wanted the story to end when you first started writing or did you come up with more ideas while working on it?" asked by @lapileaf 12/20
I'mma answer both of these (and any others if they are asked) in kinda the same go if that's alright. In August I was wanting to write some fanfiction for CB, and one idea rotating in my head was, what if Chase went into a nonfiction book? Like he thought it the most effective way to study for a history project, or he saw a mention of Ex Libris, or something. So, completely directionless, I drabbled out the first chapter of KAPT where they find the book in the museum and... adopt it. And then it sat there in my Google Docs for like two weeks while I worked on a different fanfiction, Violets and Chains. I tried to return to it a little bit and got through the first anthology chapter where they're in the Chartesia battle, but that too did not have a plot behind it, I was like "myeh... trebuchets... uh... and now there's a guy... oh maybe they're PRISONERS..." And then brain did not work and I gave up. Eventually got myself together, BS-ed the rest of the scene, and then sat down and essentially ranted to myself about potential ideas until I figured out the plot.
More ideas have kept cropping up as I've worked on it. There are certain puzzle pieces that are foreshadowed in even teh first ten chapters that I didn't even mean to foreshadow because I hadn't thought of the yet - the plot was generally mapped out but has defintely been refined and added to as time goes on. Eventually you get into the flow of a story and everything just starts clicking into place, like you yourself are theorizing about an external work. Keep in mind that because I am publishing it as I write each chapter, KAPT is a first draft, and I have to hatch out plot points and main parts of the story as I write and make my best effort to recover any loose threads or things like that. It's a fun exercise!
"Do you plan to stick to the story you have already till the end or is there a possiblity you'll have to change some things if we get to know more about canon Ex Libris/Buddy lore while it's still ongoing?" asked by @iwikpines 12/20
There are some new bits of information that are kinda iffy for KAPT, but ultimately because KAPT takes place inside a book most of the Buddy/Ex Libris lore is not applicable. Regarding Buddy's situation I am going to go ahead like I was planning to originally, and I'll add a disclaimer when time permits. I don't think either way throws a wrench in the plans too much but I would rather be confident in the themes I've already set up as opposed to trying to hastily recover new lore in the last third of the story, if that makes sense.
"How did you come up with your ocs? I know some, like Jaime, come from another original story of yours ... but what about characters like Ravenell, Galeus, and Rose? What inspired you? How did you decide their personaltiy, their struggles? Did you take inspiration from yourself for anyone, similar to how Punko took inspiration from herself for Chase? Do you follow any specific process to come up with ocs, like follow a list, scheme, or coming up with hypothetical scneraios?" asked by @isitamia 12/20
A lot of the characters are cameos from a passion project I've been working on for years called IFI (no I will not tell you what it stands for) - Jaime and emma are from there, as well as several others including Alexei, Nishan, Mattheo, Kelitia, Indie (the Marchioness), King Aarius, and King Olivyn. So those are just plunked in and then Jaime decided to become part of the plot. As for the other original characters made specifically for KAPT, they just kinda got plopped in for one reason or another (I wanted Rose to connect to the Chartesia lore, Ravenell to have a foil for Chase, and Galeus because, well, there had to be a king) and then I slowly worked to build connections, themes, and character. Often times I don't specifically sit down and think "this character will be this way", it just emerges naturally from their dialogue, like I'm chiseling something out that was already in the stone like an archeologist, as opposed to carving my own new sculpture. I've always written that way and it makes it difficult when I am required to add structure to my writing or explain why I do things the way I do. I will say it is all VERY inspired from my own life and beliefs; Rose exists as a confidante in the story, and many of her more preachy dialogue pieces are things I'm getting out of my system. So yeah, not really a lot of structure to it, they just appear... and I figure them out as I go... most of my characters are in some way facets of myself or the way I percieve life. As I get more experienced with writing I'm sure I'll be more intentional with them, but for now, they are Athena and I am Zeus.
"How do you post daily" (kind of) asked by @isitamia 12/20
To give an actual answer for this because I know it's a lot to post a 2-4k chapter PER DAY - I am a student and have a LOT of downtime in class where I can't really do anything but write. That is how. Also, I have taught myself to be a prolific writer because that is the thing in my life I can always rely on when other things are unstable.
"How did you extend the story so far? I love the plot and it's kinda insane how you were able to develop it so much, at this point it's a full novel and I kinda live for it LOL. Also how long would you consider one act?" asked by @shyve3 12/20
Two parts to this question, I will answer them both;
I didn't mean to. I am really bad about being concise; I can't. When I write and get passionate about a story there's so much I want to stay and I can rarely fit it into what most people consider a pallatable length. I just get going and... idk... unstoppable force or something lol. And yes KAPT is at least the length of a typical trilogy XD ITS BEEN FIVE MONTHS
Regarding the act question, I ORIGINALLY said KAPT would be three acts, with the first ending when Chase goes down into Rose's "tomb" for the first time, the second ending with the Bronte part, and the third being the final one. It is actually more like four now, with the "second" act split into two at the masquerade ball. We are so close to being onto the actual final act, which should be a 4th of the total fic, so we have maybe 30 chapters left (?) (we'll see lol)
I don't have a specific length, it's just the way the story tends to ebb and flow if that makes sense?
General stuff
"Do you have any advice as a writer?" asked by @iwikpines 12/20
I AM SO BAD ABOUT THIS because I really do just go type type type and words appear. I know there's more to it than that but I've spent a lot of time writing and not a lot of time learning how to write so I have the experience without the actual education behind it. Write what you care about :) I mean NO DUH but like - your best stories will come from the heart. You will find prolificness (is that a word?) in PASSION. If I didn't care about Cinderella Boy or the themes I'm trying to communicate in KAPT would I spent my days writing a chapter a day ABSOLUTELY FRIGGIN NOT I'd be writing a different story. So yeah - write what you love and your audience will find you. What the world needs is a buncha people doing what they love really well because it's what they care about. Also, I didn't include your full comment here, but I am excited to read your fanfiction! <3 Please post it on Tumblr when you also post it elsewhere!
#cinderella boy#cinderella boy webtoon#cinderellaboy#keys are people#kapt#keys are people too#am i allowed to do this#is this conceited#qna
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Revisiting King's Crown got me inspired to write something from the future, a little snippet of when it's almost the end of the journey. It happens at a point where Dove isn't in the best of head spaces, she's learned stuff that has her questioning a lot, so Wukong takes her for a little vacation to Flower Fruit Mountain.
I've cut around some specifics just so I don't spoil too much of the later plot, but I rlly wanted to share this piece. There's angst, not a whole lotta self-love going on, but there's some comfort in there so hopefully that makes up for all the sad stuff 🫶
Dove Masterlist:
Why?
The moon shines over Flower Fruit, full and bright. The stars accompanying it in the night sky twinkle overhead, a faint breeze leaving a cover of bumps over your arms. Despite the slight chill, it is very welcomed after your day in the summer heat. There are barely any clouds in the sky, it’s a perfect way to end the night. With the blanket of night, there is barely a whisper of another soul on the grassy landscape you lay on with the king of the mountain.
Your Peaches is the one who suggested stargazing, he lays just underneath you, his shirt discarded a few metres away. You lie with your head on his chest, a hand rests just over his stomach as you take in the sky’s tableau. One of his arms wraps over your midsection, keeping you close while his tail thumps slowly and rhythmically over the ground. His head lays on his other arm, and he keeps a knee propped up while he looks up to the sky.
The world is silent as you watch the stars. They move so slowly in the mortal realm compared to the Jade Palace. Up there, the stars race through the sky like an ocean current, slowing for no one. Down here, they inch across the sky so slowly, their movement is barely even noticeable. If only it could all be that slow, if only this could never end. How wonderful it would be if this journey could go on for eternity. You would rather cross a thousand rivers, climb a never-ending mountain than have it end so soon. But you need to do this, whether you want to or not. It’s for the better, for everyone.
“So?” Wukong hums from under you, it’s easy to feel his eyes on the top of your head. “Has today been worth it?” He asks, but you can’t answer him right away. You look up at him from your spot on his chest, soaking in the warmth from his body. The slow rise and fall of each breath he takes is comforting.
Everything about right now feels perfect, Sun Wukong has made today so calm. It feels as though he could soothe all your worries in a moment like this, just stay how you are forever. But you can’t. You can’t allow yourself to enjoy today, enjoy all of this. Not after everything you know now. “Why?”
Peaches looks down at you, his warm smile enough to cause the butterflies in your stomach to stir. “Care to elaborate?” His smile carries to his eyes, those beautiful sunset eyes. Looking into them, all your anxieties could melt away.
Then your gaze travels up, to the gold encircling his head. “Why bring me here today?” You ask, your brows furrowed with worry.
He answers your question with one of his own. “This is your future home, isn’t it? Or should I be expecting one of us to commute between my mountain and that bodhisattva’s?”
“…I’m not going back to Potalaka.” You look back out to the sky, the stars in the same position as you left them.
Wukong takes a moment before replying. “She only did what she thought was best.” His chest rumbles with soft laughter. “Hell, you know I would’ve done a lot worse if I were in her position.” You know Guan Yin did her best, but it doesn’t make anything better.
You sit up, hugging your knees tight as your eyes wander over the landscape. This isn’t right, none of it is. The two of you are sitting here in the comforts of Flower Fruit Mountain while the others are on their own. Sun Wukong risked a day away from Tripitaka, and for what? An attempt to make you feel better than you should? “…Why?”
He lets the silence sit this time, slowly sitting up to join you. His hand finds its way to your back, it moves gently back and forth in comfort. “Because you can’t keep beating yourself up over this. It wasn’t in your control, Dove.”
You look down into your lap as his tail wraps around, pulling you closer. Why is he trying so hard? All these years with him, and still you have not a single clue as to why he chose you. Who in their right mind would do that, after everything you’ve done. The thought makes your chest grow tight, it makes each breath all the more difficult to take.
“Why do you love me?” Your voice is barely a whisper, but that doesn’t stop him from hearing it. Wukong stiffens at the question, his hand freezing as his head swivels down to look at you.
You find it in you to look back at Wukong, his eyes are wide with a mix of shock and concern. He almost looks hurt by the question. “What?” He frowns, turning to face you more.
“How can you?” You press, moving away from his touch and turning to face him as well. “After everything I’ve done.”
“Stop that.” His frown deepens, and you shake your head.
“We should be with the others right now.” You look away, but before you can move any farther, he takes hold of both your hands.
“Dove.”
“How can you defend me?!”
“I’m not letting you talk yourself into thinking–”
“I did this to you!”
You reach out to hold his head as you speak, the cold metal of the circlet in your hands. A reminder of your spite, your hatred that drove you to hurt him. The malice and resentment that hurt your Peaches.
He looks back at you, stunned into silence as tears prick at your eyes. “I… I hurt you. Every time that thing on your head tightens, when you were only trying to protect us– even when we were trying to tell you apart from Macaque!” Your shoulders shake, each intake of breath sharp as the tears stream down your face.
“I gave Tripitaka the sutra, I tricked you into wearing the circlet! How can you love me after all this pain I’ve caused you?!” Your head falls onto his shoulder as you try your best to stifle your cries, your arms dropping down to his shoulders. “I don’t deserve it. Not from you, not after I hurt you like I did.”
The silence that follows is only broken by your muffled breaths. Neither of you move, still as stone. Only when your shaky breaths slow do you feel arms wrapping around you. “…We were both pretty angry people back then, huh? Ha, we still are.” Wukong shakes his head, as if in amusement.
A sigh slips from his lips, and you feel him rest his head over yours. “I still remember my confusion, the first time I felt it tighten around my head, falling to the ground when the pain hit me. Even when it stops, sometimes I can still feel it.”
His arms slide back, his hands taking you by your shoulders to pull you back. Once he can properly look you in the eyes, one hand moves to cup the side of your face. He’s gentle as he holds you face up to his, his thumb moving to wipe away a tear. “I hate what you did to me, but I could never hate you.”
Peaches smiles at you, it’s small but genuine. His words leave you speechless, at a loss that he takes to keep going. “You got me to wear this crown, but it’s coming off as soon as Master reaches Thunderclap Monastery. I tried killing you…” His gaze wanders away for a moment, his smile turning guilty. “…more than once.”
You frown at that. Of course you remember the first time in the Jade Palace, but what else was he talking about? The time where he tried using you as bait for those demons that took Tripitaka’s cassock? “You said that time in the tree was so you could find the demon’s home while they were distracted.”
“Eh, I was going for a, ‘kill two birds with one stone’ approach with that.” He admits, his chuckle traced with some shame. You deadpan a little before he continues.
“But even after everything, you chose to be here with me.” Your eyes widen a bit as he moves closer. With his other hand moving to hold the other side of your face. He pulls you in so that your foreheads meet in the middle. “So don’t you ever question my love for you. It is as eternal as my life, and it will shine to make your darkest days light. You deserve the world, and more, that is something I will never let you forget.”
Your heart quickens, thumping against your chest rapidly as Wukong’s gaze holds yours. You can feel your face flushing, those sun-kissed eyes that hold you in their sights enough to make you swoon a hundred times over. Tears well up in your own eyes, and before they can fall, he pulls you into an embrace.
“You can’t blame yourself for something that happened when you were a child.” He whispers as you slowly wrap your arms around his back. “It all would have happened, regardless of whether or not you knew why.”
It takes you a second to slow your breaths. “I could have done something–”
“You were eight.” His voice is firm, stopping you before you could say any more.
Your eyes shut tight. “That doesn’t mean I wish I could have done something to stop it.”
One of his hands slides up to hold the back of your head. “You couldn’t have.” His fingers comb through your hair, and you melt into his touch.
There isn’t anything you can say. You know he’s right, but it doesn’t make the truth any harder to swallow. An entire village, gone. Innocent lives, friends who lost their lives because of you. You can’t let anyone else lose their life, you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if that happened.
At least you have him with you, here. You still can’t see why he cares so much for you, but right now, you’re just grateful that he does. “…I love you.”
“And I love you, Dove.” Peaches hums, and before you can say another word, your love lays back against the grass, taking you with him.
The steady beat of his heart drums against his chest, it’s rhythm soothing as you allow yourself to relax in his hold. This night really is beautiful. “Are we going to fly back tonight? You know nothing good happens when you leave Tripitaka for too long.”
Wukong lets out a soft huff. “My brothers will be alright taking care of him for a single night. Right now, I think you need a good rest on an actual bed.”
“Why use a bed when you’re right here?” You mumble, nuzzling your head into his chest with a small smile. He laughs at that, and you feel him place a kiss on the top of your head. A sigh escapes you, your eyes closing slowly as you lay with Wukong. “Peaches… why?”
“Why, what?” He asks in a whisper, his voice soft.
When you open your eyes, you look up at the sage with a smile. “Why did you bring me here today? The real reason.”
Peaches keeps his eyes to the sky, his head shaking a bit. “You know why.”
“I do, I just want you to know you can’t trick me.” You smirk, making Wukong laugh again.
“We’ll see about that.”
#the guilt is strong with this one#she’s working through some stuff#and wukong is there to help her through it#little dove#sun wukong x reader
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I need more billford content from you! SO BADLY! I remember you mentioning that you’re working on some sequels. Can you give us like a sneak peek or do you have any writings you did of them? Or is there any fics that you read that you enjoy? It’s just you write them so well, it’s kinda hard to find other works similar to yours. Basically I’m STARVING
Hi lovely,
Your comment is so lovely I reread it a bunch before deciding to reply today with links and all the good stuff.
I have given the majority of the sequel sneak peaks I can afford to give yesterday, so we'll have to wait until KMKY is finished for more sequel goodness, I only caved yesterday bc it was my birthday and I love giving presents.
What I can do is link some old answers to various gravity falls writing prompts I've done before on my blog, and recommend some of my fanfics in other fandoms to tide you over.
I'm working as hard as I can to get the next chapter ready for you, so hopefully it will be ready after xmas or in early jan, and we literally have the roadside attraction chapter, Dipper and Mabel vs the Future and Weirdmageddon to go and then its the end of KMKY!
I'll be plotting and organising the timeline for ITBICD (It's The Best I Can Do or KMKY 2 electric boogaloo lmao) during this time too so hopefully I can launch straight into it after the final chapter of KMKY is posted!
So here are the links:
Shailesh and Jolene bounty hunter romance short
Fiddleford went home for thanksgiving, here's what Bill and Ford did
Down in the bunker Stanford sexperiments on Bill
Stanford psychoanalyses Bill with an old psychology textbook
For those who haven't read it yet, there was a uptilnow unpublished sex scene from KMKY that has recently gone up on AO3 here
Not from KMKY but an AU where Stanford becomes dependent on percepshrooms instead of Bill for his successes
A half baked Supernatural Billford AU bc I was a nerd haha
If you're keen to explore other fandom fics I've written, I have a murder mystery FMAB AU for folks who loved fullmetal alchemist that I'm pretty proud of.
For people who like the spooky side of Billford I have a half finished Magnus Archives AU fic too that sort of predicted the Jon in a computer part of The Magnus Protocol (I am cursed with the gift of prophecy)
For fanfic recommendations I haven't had the chance to read a lot of Billford fanfic since I tried not to read others fics while working on KMKY (there were a few notable exceptions, Theseus's Guide by @stump-not-found slaps (its fun, well paced and zany!) and I read Statement Abnegation (dark and gritty, not sure I was a fan of the ending since I like Ford to have more agency but for a dark fic it went places) since it was recommended to me. I also enjoyed A Postcard from New Mexico by roseverdict (an excellent concept and nice Stan brothers bonding) that I felt compelled to read)
If you don't mind other fandoms, I'll link my ao3 bookmarks of other stories I loved. There's a lot of batman, magnus archives, star trek, the locked tomb, miraculous ladybug, witcher, thor, rise of the guardians and homestuck (because we all had that phase, don't lie) and the list isn't very long, just some fics I like rereading there.
I hope this helps! I'm working hard on the next chapter so there will be more content for you soon, plus there's always a good reread as a backup option, and the wonders of maladaptive daydreaming haha!
If people want to add their own recommendations to this for fanfic recs please do in the reblogs!
#knowing me knowing you#kmky#billford#hopefully this helps#feel free to add your own recommendations to the list folks!#and now all the little offshoot extras are all in the same place#my writing
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So I saw your danganronpa hunger games au and I’m thinking how would makoto and Mukuro alliance start as well as how makoto saves her also I personally would like makoto to have killed at least two people also maybe everyone reaction to makoto and mukuro and would they be advertised as lovers or would junko step in and steal makoto for herself for ruining her game
That's a great question. Thank you for asking.
(Here's the Masterlist to all my Danganronpa Crossover AU's.)
(There's no graceful place for me to mention this in the post itself, but just for continuity with my previous posts, Junko is still a Caesar Flickerman figure in this AU and still Mukuro's sister, which they're both aware of. This could make the interviews interesting, but this post isn't going to go into it; we're focusing on the Makoto-Mukuro plot.)
So, Mukuro and Makoto are victors in the same year.
She's from 2, he's from...I'm going to say 8. The textiles district. (Not one of the wealthier or favored ones.) Him being associated with sewing is cool, since it can be treated as a symbolic reflection of how he's uniting the Districts. (Also, District 8 is very industrial and doesn't have much nature, so he gets to be awestruck by nature when he does see it.)
They meet in the Training Center.
She isolates herself from the other Careers, because she's read the situation well enough to know that they will kill her first once it comes time for the alliance to break. She can protect herself, so she just decides to do that. She keeps to herself in the Training Center, but Makoto is kind to her in a way she isn't used to.
She trains in the survival tasks, like starting a fire and filtering water (since she doesn't need weapon training), and often he's the only one there when she does. He passes her the training materials like he doesn't know they're enemies.
"I'm not going to be your ally," she says preemptively. Even if she wanted allies, he is clearly the only one who would benefit in that arrangement. What can this shrimp protect her from? What sponsors will he attract? He's not even all that good at filtering water.
"Oh, that's fine," he replies. "I'd...honestly rather not think about that stuff right now anyway. We can just look at it like we're classmates, right? We're learning together. It's like school, for now. That's...how I'm trying to think about it, anyway. Maybe that's kind of..."
"Does pretending you're in a different situation help you sleep at night?"
"I don't think I'm pretending. I don't forget what's going to happen. I just...try to remember that everyone here would rather not be."
"That's naive. They'll cheer when they kill you."
"If they could decide between being here and being at home, I think this room would be empty."
"What difference does that make?"
"I don't know. For me, it just...does."
He's nice. He seems like a nice kid. Which is why he'll die. Too nice. Mukuro isn't nice. She's awful enough to survive. She tries to put him out of her mind, but his friendly smile keeps invading her thoughts. Even making her blush.
Her determination to win doesn't know what to do with this feeling. The best she can do is hope that he dies painlessly. A slit throat, a quick shot through the eye. Hopefully on the first day, so he won't have time to lose that sunny outlook.
It crosses her mind that it might be her responsibility to kill him. If she doesn't kill him at the Cornucopia, he could die in any number of horrible, painful ways. (Try to drink from an acid river and burn from the inside out. Infected wound. Hunger. Thirst.) It would be a waste of time, for her; killing him would leave her vulnerable to attack from one of the actual threats. But she feels like it might be worth it. Giving him a kind death might help her to live with herself, once everything is over. She can imagine they're still friends, that her mercy has repaid his smiles...
She would have gone through with it. In the arena, as soon as the Games start, she gets her hands on a set of throwing knives and a spear. She sees him at the other side of the clearing. He's gotten his hands on a water canteen. He looks like a frightened little rabbit.
Her throat feels tight all of a sudden.
But she throws her knife.
It would have killed him instantly, but suddenly someone grapples with him for his canteen, and the blade misses him. He's able to get away, and Mukuro has to focus on the real threats, now.
She feels a weird mix of shame and relief.
It's days later next time she sees him. (Each night, she's surprised not to see his face in the sky, announcing his death. He must have found a great hiding place.)
She's been keeping to herself, killing whoever crosses her path, staying alive. She plans to avoid the Careers until they've started turning on each other, unless she can find a way to catch them unawares.
(I just deleted a couple of paragraphs because I had introduced a plot element and then wasn't sure whether it made things Too Emotionally Complicated, so maybe it'll come back later, but for now I'm just going to keep going with the vague statement that other stuff happens between the previous paragraph and the next.)
Eventually, Mukuro does run afoul of the other Careers. She gets injured but escapes with her life. She seeks refuge in a cave, and by the time she notices that someone else's stuff is already there, she's sitting down and can't get back up without aggravating her injuries and possibly passing out.
Makoto returns to the cave (because it was his stuff left there, because it's been his spot for a while now). He has weapons, and Mukuro is almost unconscious at that point, but he doesn't kill her. He just sits on the opposite side of the cave. He's eating his food when Mukuro loses consciousness. When she wakes up, he's left some food near her and he's sleeping, himself.
She doesn't eat the food. Either it's poison or it's a debt she doesn't need. Instead, she rifles through his bag and finds bandages and medicine. Which means either that this guy actually has sponsors somehow, or he got the supplies off a corpse. Has he killed?
Mukuro tries to imagine it, while she bandages up her injuries. Strangely, the thought of him dirtying his hands doesn't taint her image of him. The tribute who smiled at her, who pretended they were classmates, who dared to sleep four feet away from her in the middle of the Games as if he had any reason to believe his mercy would be returned in kind...
She wants to know if he's killed. Who. How many. Under what circumstances. Did it upset him? Did he celebrate?
Curiosity is so, so much more dangerous than fondness. Fondness can be channeled into killing, if the right justification is found. Curiosity?
Makoto's eyes open, and he startles back, bumping his head against the wall of the cave, at the sight of Mukuro sitting right next to him, watching him sleep.
(This isn't one of my yandere posts, I promise.)
"Sorry," she says, blushing. "I...thought you might have stopped breathing." The lie sounds not the slightest bit convincing, but fortunately he seems to be distracted from the fact that she was watching him sleep...by the fact that she stole medicine and bandages from his bag.
He doesn't look angry about it. When his gaze lands on her treated injuries, he merely says, "You look a lot better than before."
"Thank you," she says, like he's actually complimenting her looks and not just politely observing that she stole his supplies.
"I'm glad you made it this long. I was...checking the sky for you."
She blushes bright red. "You were? I mean, I...I was surprised you hadn't been killed yet."
And she's back to thinking that maybe the kindest thing she can do for him is kill him quickly, but instead the conversation keeps going, and eventually she has him eat the food he left for her, meaning she discovers it wasn't poisoned.
And that's basically the start of the alliance.
Unlike in The Hunger Games, their mentors are not going to try to play the star-crossed lovers card at all; inter-District solidarity is way too taboo. The shipping happens despite the mentors trying to treat their connection as purely pragmatic.
And honestly, Junko might be a major force in pushing the romance, because like I said, she is so bored with the Hunger Games.
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20 Questions for Fic Writers
Thanks so much for the tag @zsparz !!!💖
1. How many works do you have on ao3?
166!
2. What’s your total ao3 word count?
2.013.111. I write when I‘m stressed, can you tell?
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Mostly the MCU. Frostiron my beloved 💕 I recently posted a Huskerdust fic, though, and a couple years ago I posted some Good Omens stuff! I have another Good Omens wip brewing, but I haven‘t worked on it in a while.
4. Top five fics by kudos
First one up would be Your Call, a multi-chaptered ABO Frostiron thing that‘s sadly unfinished because I‘m not happy with where it was going somehow. Then Corners of Reality, my baby, Yes or No, Dereliktion and last but not least Vita Nova!
5. Do you respond to comments?
God I try. I’m so bad at it though. On long fics I always answer comments on the last chapter when I post the new one, but I keep forgetting to reply to comments on older chapters or oneshots😭 They all mean the world to me though.
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Ohh I wrote a few angsty oneshots but it‘s been a while. Maybe Here, that‘s the most recent one. Of the older ones I remember all my light most clearly. Tony is dead or dying in both of these lol, poor Loki.
7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
I like to think the happiest endings in stories are ones you had to fight for a little bit, so maybe Dereliktion. That was a long ride filled with angst and messed up relationships lol. I think Haywire (my first and so far only Sentinel/Guide fic, I love that trope a lot akfj) also has a pretty fluffy ending, and I have some oneshots that are pretty much all fluff!!
8. Do you get hate on fics?
Occasionally? Just the other day I got another anon ask on here complaining about my recent stories. Makes me extra thankful for everyone who takes the time to tell me they enjoy my stuff!!💖
9. Do you write smut?
I do! Pretty much all the time lol. I love writing Dom/sub relationships!
10. Craziest crossover?
I don‘t think I‘ve ever written one before?
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Yesss. I‘m not sure if they just didn’t know any better though, they deleted the copied parts as soon as I told them.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
Yes!! I‘m always so happy when that happens!!
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Also yes. One year I did a whole Frostiron Advent calendar with @rabentochter (do you remember this????? How did we have the time??????? Insane) and we wrote a few more collabs beyond that.
14. All time favorite ship?
Frostiron!!!!!!!!!!!! I love my sassy messed up geniuses lol
15. What’s a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
Uhhh I‘ve got a few. I‘d like to finish/rewrite Your Call. Once I also had the cracky fever dream of Loki doing random standup comedy shows in New York because he‘d KILL that. Can you imagine the sarcasm. The gallow‘s humor. Anyway I started that and then realized I Cannot Write Standup Routines at all. So there‘s that.
16. What are your writing strengths?
What I like to write the most is character and relationship development, so hopefully I‘m decent at that? Also dialogue, I hope, but that kinda comes and goes depending on the conversation.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
I kinda suck thinking of longish plot that goes beyond “will they kiss?? Will they FUCK???” so I’ve been trying to practice that. Also scenes with lots of action😭
18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?
I like it. I’ve been wanting to write a fic where Tony can properly show off his language skills but I don’t know enough languages to pull that off lol
19. First fandom you wrote in?
The VERY first was Dracula, back when I was 13 or so. I had a big thing for van Helsing back then. My first fandom on ao3 was Once Upon a Time!!
20. Favorite fic you’ve written?
Ooohhh. That would be Corners of Reality, because I worked on it for years before I even started posting it and I love how it turned out. It’s a slow burn time travel enemies to friends to almost lovers to enemies to friends to lovers to enemies to allies to lovers fic. I had SO much fun writing it I still think about it all the time😭😭
I’m just gonna tag some writers I know are on here: @endlessstairway @xottan @izhunny @arabesqueangel @bouncydragon no pressure though!! And if you see this and you’re a writer please consider yourself tagged!!💖
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I. ABSOLOUTLY. ADORE YOUR IDEA WITH YOUR AU SO MUCHhhhhaaaaah!! ✨✨✨✨🖤🖤
Chuuya having WINGS!!? Even though he could in somee way fly before already, it feels so different with wings!! Like really cool!!
(( I have always Liked wings -
Is your AU going to follow the main time-line of the show? Like, the illustrations you've posted sure does look like it-- (love them- love this idea-) ((Soukoku Reunion where Chuuya has feathers!!? ✨)
Wait, wait, wait, No- dont spoil anything..! (maybe just a little yes or no- that wouldn't really spoil anything—) I will find out as I read—!
I mainly wanted to say I'm really looking forward to reading this!!
It's my first BSD AU where it follows the main time-line - just differently- as well! A thing I really like!!
Well, if it really does ofc, but It sure does look like it—Arg, I gotta just continue reading soon——
Even if it don't this seems really interesting already!!!
Ahem, anyhow, this became a bit long- I wanted to expres my excitement about this-especially after, you even looked at some of my BSD stuff after I followed you!!!!
Thank you soo much!✨ That became the last push to write this little too long text, that isn't really a question, but more like a thank you-ahh im excited for this-- that I had already considered writing to you after I started reading😅😅👍
This entire post just made my day and while I could I'd rather not risk dying from lightheadedness from spinning too fast in excitement in my spinny chair XDDDDD THANK YOU SO MUCH
I can't express how embarrassed I am just fshfhsgshgsghshg I have been CRAZY for wings for AGES now, and I just saw soooo many posts about how "what if Chuuya could fly Dazai" I thought, fuckers, I can make that REALITY And it is going to follow the main timeline of the show just...alot differently but at the same time trying really hard to stick to the normal plot In hindsight that means I must suffer with all my energy to watch the first season of bsd (When I first watched BSD, the first episodes were for setup, and rightfully so. That all made sense, it really put the characters together. But I watched it a second time and it dragged ON and ON and I COULDN'T STAND IT UNTIL CHUUYA CAME TO GRAB DAZAI gARgHHrhgh). I must admit I'm confused on the "Soukoku reunion where Chuuya has feathers" bit though 🤔 And currently during the plot I'm writing I have to improvise ALOT from what I know, and really this fic is also whatever the fuck I wanna write with whatever writing style I have on hand slapped into each 1K chapter so I'm really trying here LOL Also the fact when [undisclosed plot device] will be introduced, I'll be writing seperate smut for [undisclosed plot device] because I can then do WHATEVER I want wITHOUT any repercussions Hopefully I can add in [undisclosed plot device] just in a way that people will understand. Though I hear that Beast Dazai also came across [undisclosed plot device] at one point :D
I'm going SO offtopic here LMFAO And seriously? Really??? I'm surprised! I'm sure theres alot of fics that go by the timeline, I especially have run into cough ones which I liked which are specifically smut related..... and I go back to off topic I'm sorry LMAO But I'm sosoosososo glad you like it! It just means alot to me you wrote alot and now I'm just ranting because you've shown genuine interest without going off the rails (as far as I've seen) so this is pretty cool for me too!!! And I do usually look to peoples accounts who follow me (especially those who find interest in a SURPRISING amount of my stuff XD) so yeah, that's why and I found some GOOD stuff on your account too, so that's REALLY awesome. Talk to me any time! Dm me, reblog and talk to me that way, use replies, whatever the fuck! I love talking to people, and this was genuinely fun to write. :]
#bsd#bungo stray dogs#chuuya nakahara#dazai osamu#soukoku#bungou stray dogs#au#skk au#dazai x chuuya#soukoku au#ask me stuff#ask me anything#ask#asks#thanks for asking!#one of the best compliments I've recieved#gonna cherish this#also this is more a statement than ask#but who asked?#nobody#thats right#I also have puns#..occasionally#send asks
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I have too many plots I want to write. I want to write the virus plot, I want to write this new plot with Thursday being the villain and going against Doomsday, I want to write the stuff between James and Mariella, I want to write all the individual things I have going on between my muses and my writing partners. But then I sit down to write and my brain... totally blanks out. It's so frustrating. :/
I get little bursts of energy throughout the day, though, and I'm taking advantage of those when I get them. Usually able to do 1-2 replies at a time when that happens, including answering asks. Hopefully my muse comes back soon.
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I'm so sad my strawpage drawing DIDNT send bc it crashed just as I was gonna send it but I love this au ALOTTTT. and it's now just a natural brain rot to my day along with sols bitter water au I ARHHERVHE I love cowboy stuff I love this au I love the little sillies I love it!!!!!!1!1!1
OHHHH NOO!! I'm so sorry about that! Strawpage has been giving me a few issues so far which I'm a little worried about going forward but it is more interesting than just the Tumblr blog so I'm torn I also brainrot about Sol's bitterwater au, Sol is half the reason i decided to make a strawpage for this au, sol is half the reason i made this au we feed off each others ideas haha and of course, their lovely art is supplying yall so far
(I am basically studying 9-4 to 9-6 some days so, no time yet, soon hopefully i can draw some au art myself :cry: ) lets see as the first non anon on the blog in perticular I'm sure i can give a peek for something *sounds of digging through plot threads* Ah How about this for you Eloise - our first look at Cleo and Joe in the au with a bit of writing
|| Cleo sighed, sitting back in her chair, letting a whisp of smoke drift into the air from her cigar. "Tell the boys to stop pursuing the Lawless Jewels."
"Boss?"
She sighed, stubbing out on the ashtray before her eyes and drifting through old memories. "Consider it a parting gift, to a… old friend."
"Consider it done," Joe replied swiftly.
"Leave me." She paused "Please Joe."
"I'll go get you a class of water, " he said, "to clear your throat from that smoke."
She sighed as her office door swung shut once again. ||
#the western jewels au#the lawless jewels#western jewels au#strawpage answers#mcyt#zombiecleo#joe hills#and i oop-#writing#wj!writing
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20 Questions- Writing Edition
Thank you @wetcarcass for the tag! It was fun to do, even if I haven’t completed anything in soooo long <3
This is a sort of weird one, cause all my published writing is a few years old at least, and I don’t want to link anything or reference it too much because I find it kind of cringe haha! I started writing again after a long break a few years ago, so it all reads as very rusty to me.
I’ve been writing and not publishing for a little while though… although none of it is finished or even that coherent yet. (Yet. Watch this space?)
How many works do you have on ao3
40 on my abandoned old account, lmao. Hopefully 1 on saltired soon?
What's your total ao3 word count?
155, 113 on said old acc.
What are your top five fics by kudos?
Don’t really want to list them bc abandoned account/few years old etc, but the top one is apparently at 534 now, which is quite nice I think.
What fandoms do you write for?
I’ve written for loads, but now I want to follow my dreams and focus on asoiaf- I’ve only ever published one super short fic for it despite loving it for so long. I think it’s just intimidated me because I’ve loved it for so long, honestly.
Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
Absolutely! It’s so great to be able to engage with people who enjoyed your stuff! I always love it when an author replies to my comments <3
What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Honestly, probably the current thramsay angst in my docs atm. It’s nothing insanely angsty, but still more bleak than my past stuff because… well, it’s thramsay.
What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
I’ve written a few sweet soft fluff pieces for friends, so those I guess? My endings tend to be the characters stewing in misery/shame/apathy etc as opposed to riding off into the sunset.
Do you get hate on fics?
I think I got some once, but it was super mild. Just someone complaining about stuff that was very clearly tagged. Like, that’s on you if you don’t like it, buddy.
Do you write smut?
Pretty much exclusively unethical and miserable smut.
Do you write crossovers?
I’ve done a few crack crossovers in my time, but never anything serious, they’re not really my thing.
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
I did once read a fic that was clearly very heavily inspired by one of mine, including the same phrasing on niche plot points, but nothing outright stolen. Never said anything about it though, and tbh I wouldn’t unless they had literally copied and pasted my fic!
Have you ever had a fic translated?
Yeah, I had one translated- it was Spanish and don’t know any Spanish, so I have no idea if it’s faithful to the og though lmao.
Have you ever cowritten a fic before?
Yep, I’ve done a few.
What's your all time favorite ship?
Thramsay, hands down. They’ve lived in my head rent free for about nine years now, but I haven’t published fic for them.
What's the wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?
Not fic related, but I’ve got a few TTRPG adventure wips. I really want to release them one day, but considering I’m the sole writer/illustrator/graphic designer/etc then I doubt it will be any time soon- plus, I’d have to playtest them and edit all over again based off that. I still live in hope they’ll get done instead of sitting in perpetual limbo, though!
What are your writing strengths?
Always writing for myself instead of trying to write something that people will like- I think that’s really important!
What are your writing weaknesses?
Never writing anything in order/planning. It drives me absolutely insane and makes everything take forever because I’m chasing threads around, but I can’t seem to do it any other way. Also multichaptered fics, I get part way through and move on to something else.
Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?
I’ve never had the need to, but I guess if you know the language you’re writing in and it makes sense in the story, go for it? Although I prefer if people put a translation in the notes so I don’t have to google translate and end up with a poor imitation of what was actually written.
First fandom you wrote for?
Probably Lord of the Rings or Merlin? This would have been back in 2012, on a fanfiction.net account that was thankfully lost to time. Bless past Salt and his enthusiasm for writing, but you could not pay me to reread it.
Favorite fic you've ever written?
I have an unfinished draft lying around somewhere based on Crash… it was a while ago, and could definitely be better, but it was so much fun and I’d love to revisit the idea again. If we’re talking published, then I wrote a gun-focused fic that I still think is decent. Loaded guns ended up in places they should absolutely not be, obviously.
Like the other tag I did, I’m not gonna tag anyone, but if you’re reading this and haven’t been tagged then I’m tagging YOU PERSONALLY <3
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i appreciate most your enthusiasm for creation + how you share it! we don't talk a whole lot, but it always makes my day to see your ocs and fanart on my dash. i admire how openly you speak of your original works; i haven't left long comments on your OCs (i'm unsure if it's ok to reply to your tumblr posts with that), but i enjoy reading your lore on your site & going through your toyhouse. it's all very interesting, slash positive. thaank you for posting stuff! ^__^
this is the Sweetest ask EVER.
we may not talk much but i need u to know i think so fondly of you and i appreciate every tag you leave on my art. u are such a ray of light and deserve the best days ever ok.
BUT. i'm so glad you have looked at everything... it really means a lot to me. 💜 knowing my works are seen and appreciated makes me so happy.
it's absolutely ok to leave long comments on my ocs though!! i give you my blessing..............
i will continue to post about them... hopefully that world/plot/lore summary can come soon......... ^__^
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Fic Writer Interview
Thank you for the tag @mercurygray!
How many works do you have on AO3?
Currently 6, but hopefully that number will go up over spring break
What's your total AO3 word count?
119,136
What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
Like A Girl (Like A Man) - Band of Brothers
Just A Kid - The Outsiders
Bear The Burden Alone - The Chronicles of Narnia
For Whatever We Lose - Band of Brothers
Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
Yes, absolutely! I share my writing because it allows me to connect with people who share my interests. If I'm not posting replies, it feels more like a one sided conversation, imo. Also, it seems the polite thing to do
What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?
It's about to be Like A Girl (Like A Man)! You'll see why soon >:)
What the fic you've written with the happiest ending?
On AO3, it's probably Bear The Burden Alone, but I try to keep the fics that I post here on Tumblr kinda upbeat with hopeful -- albeit open-ended -- endings.
Do you write crossovers?
Yeah! For Whatever We Lose is actually a crossover with The Pacific, and I'd love to do more crossovers in the future
Have you ever received hate on a fic?
Yep! I've deleted the comments, but some people were VERY ANGRY about the background Babe/Roe content in LAGLAM -- you know, despite the fact that the plot of the fic is driven by a queer woman's decision to cross-dress. Guess they had to draw the line somewhere, but the hypocrisy of it all makes me chuckle
Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
Kinda? I deleted most of it from the original LAGLAM drafts and instead just alluded to it, but things are going to be different in FWWL. Get ready for crappy ocean metaphors and religious imagery, babes!
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
I hope not :( That would stink
Have you ever had a fic translated?
Not to my knowledge
Have you ever co-written a fic before?
No, but I think it would be fun!
What's your all-time favorite ship?
Everlark! (said while frothing at the mouth because they make me go insane) I've been obsessed with them since I first read The Hunger Games at age 9. I could write you a whole novel about why I think they're perfect together, but I'll spare you the ramble (unless anyone wants it?)
What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?
Tears in my eyes when I tell you that it's probably the requests in my inbox. I keep telling myself that I'll get to them, but I've just felt unmotivated with all the stuff I've had going on in my personal life/at school. I really really do hope to get to them someday, though, because some of them will be really fun to write
What are your writing strengths?
I have no clue, lol. I tend to get compliments about how I describe settings, so I'm gonna say that!
What are your writing weaknesses?
My abuse of commas and italics.
What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?
Personally, I love doing it. Especially in a fic like LAGLAM, where even though most people don't speak the language I'm using (Cherokee), I feel like they can still see the importance to the characters and to the story. And I like tricking people into caring about Indigenous language preservation. My teachers told me that anything can be a vessel for carrying language on, and by God, I took that to heart
What was the first fandom you wrote for?
Oh boy. I was in the fifth grade. I had won many writing competitions. Two classmates approached me and told me that they wished The Hunger Games had more post-Mockingjay Everlark content, and that since I was a good writer, they wanted me to write it. I was traded many cosmic brownies and other such snacks throughout the year for my services in providing my classmates with Everlark fics on pages of notebook paper that are probably crumpled up in a landfill by now. At the time, I had no idea I was writing fanfiction, but it was the start of my favorite hobby. Look at me now, baby!
What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?
I've always wanted to write for TURN: Washington's Spies but have never had the courage haha
What's your favorite fic you've written?
I have a couple of one-shots that I'm pretty pleased with, but currently I'm going to say LAGLAM because it's been so special to me <3
Tagging (but no pressure!): @almost-a-class-act @latibvles @footprintsinthesxnd @liebgotts-lovergirl
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To the Shadows that Cry Witch /// Chapter 21

RAAAAHHHHHHHH WE'RE BACK AND ONLY ONE CHAPTER LEFT AND I CAN FINALLY MOVE ONTO PART 3. The Easter holidays have just started for me so I now have three full weeks to put into the last chapter. This one could be classed as a filler chapter but there's a lot they gain that links to the future so stuff doesn't just appear 'for the plot' - the girls need their hardcore character development before the journey. Enjoy! <3
Summary: Magic was real, but it came at a price. So when two girls end up in the one place they never thought they could reach, strange things began to happen. Good or bad? That's up to them to find out.
Tags: Kili x oc/reader - Fili x oc (POV to be written soon) - Thorin's company × ocs/reader (platonic) - fluff - angst - EXTREME slow burn - crack - Bagginshield
Word Count: 8527
Warnings: Nothing I can think of.
Taglist - comment or message to be added!
Want some background music? Check out my Soundtrack Playlist!
Now available on Wattpad and AO3 (please let me know if links aren't working)
< Chapter 20 // Chapter 21 // Chapter 22 >

Part 2: Chapter 21 -
Interesting Concept. Poor Execution.
Brontide (Definition): The low rumble of distant thunder. (Noun / Origin: Greek /ˈbrän‧ˌtīd)
Bag End, Hobbiton, The Shire – T.A. Monday, 27th March 2940 of the Third Age (Monday, 5th Astron, 1340 in Shire-reckoning)
4 MONTHS LATER
“I’m so happy you allowed me to accompany you three! It’s not every day I’m able to spare time for trip like this.” Gladiola smiled gratefully at the three of us.
--
After begging Bilbo to let us travel to Bree for a good month, he finally let up, but only agreed if we went in the spring, strongly insisting we wouldn’t survive the night if we had travelled in the deep winter.
“Bree is a hundred and thirty-five mile trip, meaning it would take a minimum of four days to get there. Meaning that we would have to camp in the freezing cold, because the only proper shelters are at least three detours from the path!”
We had instantly agreed, when we had realised the actual distance, deciding to wait until late March when the weather would be warmer.
Aa couple days before we left, Mrs Greenfoot had walked in on us packing when she was dropping off some spare socks she had knitted. After telling her where we were going, she instantly pleaded to let her go with us, saying how she heard Bree had some fabrics that she was dying to get her hands on, and how her husband was going to be at home full time for the next two weeks, so it would be a perfect opportunity for her to go. We said yes after persuading a reluctant Bilbo, and she shot off to pack, which led to now – on our fourth day of walking.
“Oh I really do hope the markets have what I want. I promised Menegilda I would make her a new dress for her birthday.” Gladiola rambled on as she took in the fields and forests ahead of us, her pace picking up with eagerness.
“I’m sure they will.” Replied Kay, grimacing at the feeling of her aching legs. “It’ll ruin the reputation they’ve built of they don’t.”
“Hopefully.” She sighed. “What are you all hoping of finding?”
“Every dangerous object under the sun apparently.” Bilbo spoke up before us. Stuffing his hand into his pocket, he pulled out a small piece of paper and handed it over.
Taking it, Gladiola quickly scanned the list, her face morphing into surprise and shock at the same time. “Swords?? Why would you need swords?” she queried, handing it back.
“To scare off half the town, in my opinion.” Bilbo grumbled, clearly not happy with the reason we had dragged him so far. “If I didn’t want to go for some of that wine they make, I would’ve said no on the spot.”
“Well, we would’ve gone ourselves if that was the case.” I jived back.
“We just want to know that we can protect ourselves if we ever decide to try and find our way home.” Kay explained.
Bilbo slowed his pace for a moment, as something seemed to dawn on him. “Oh.” He said quietly, a tiny quiver of dejection on his face. “Yes, home. I forgot about uh.. that.” Though he quickly shook that mood off, jogging slightly to catch up.
“Plus,” I added in an attempt to alleviate the mood. “we wouldn’t be looking to own one if we didn’t think it looked insanely cool.”
And with that Bilbo sighed, back to his usual exasperated mood.
--
The wall surrounding Bree stretched high above us as we neared the wooden gate, its intimidating nature emphasised by the two-storey stone turrets that flanked either side like a pair of unmovable sentries.
Gravel and dried mud crunching underfoot, we took the last few steps, before shuffling to a stop in front of one of the towering doors. Taking a couple steps forward, Bilbo reached up and gave the surface a few hard raps, before coming back to stand beside us.
A moment passed, and only the birds and the rustling of leaves from the nearby trees could be heard, when a muffled rattling sounded from behind the door. A small hatch near my eye level swung open, revealing the wrinkled face of a man, who, at the sight of us, morphed it into a sour scowl, a stark contrast compared to the warm sun that was beating down on our backs.
“Who’re you?” he barked, his croaky and adenoidal voice matching his unpleasant demeanour perfectly.
When neither me or Kay began to speak, Bilbo quickly piped up, stretching up on his toes to try and see the gatekeeper. “Um, hello?” he called out.
The gatekeeper, quickly stepped back and slammed the hatch shut, before a creak resounded from further down, opening another hatch that was the perfect level to speak with the hobbit, giving me a very strong sense of déjà vu.
The hobbit stepped forward towards the open hatch. “We’re here to stay at the Prancing Pony, for a week.” He explained politely. “To visit the market.”
“Oh?” croaked the gatekeeper with half a smirk. “And what are you here to buy, exactly?”
Bilbo didn’t hesitate to flap the list in front of the old man’s face. “Whatever we need.” He said sternly, before stuffing the paper back in his pocket. “I have visited before, you know.”
Looking between me and Kay, then at the hobbits, his eyes narrowed. “Two hobbits and a pair of human girls, together. That’s not something you see every day.” He muttered, reminding me a lot of a certain Hogwarts caretaker, and I half-expected to see a dupe of Mrs Norris jump out of nowhere. “Tell me, how do you know each other?”
“They’re his daughters!” A voice called out, and the three of us spun around in surprise to face a nervous looking Mrs Greenfoot. “Adopted, of course. And I’m a family friend.” She added with a sheepish smile.
The gatekeeper took his time to eye us all up slowly, his bloodshot eyes scouring whatever he could. Seemingly unable to spot anything he counted as suspicious, he quickly disappeared again with a grumble, the hatch shutting with a snap. Seconds later there was a loud groan, and the door he used to speak through slowly began to open. When the gap was wide enough, the gatekeeper stepped out from behind it, revealing his mousy grey hair and tattered brown tunic and trousers. Raising a wrinkly hand, he impatiently beckoned us forward, quickly scouring the area outside as we stumbled in, before he pushed the gate shut.
Bilbo diligently led the way as we trekked down the main street, dragging Mrs Greenfoot to walk beside him.
“What in Yavanna’s name are you doing??” The two of us heard him cry in a whisper. “People are going to ask even more questions if we call them my daughters! How am I supposed to come up with a story about that???”
“Well go with the story you already have! Because it’s the one you’re going to have to run with for now, Mr Baggins.” She hissed back with a smirk.
Deciding to pointedly ignore the storm brewing in front of us, I turned to the view of the building in front of us. “Very Tudor-like.” I mentioned, admiring the dark beams that contrasted against the cream walls, along with the jettying of the upper floors that stuck out, and the metal grid panes that decorated the windows all around.
Kay hummed in agreement as she walked beside me, the both of us in awe of the once-fictional town that spanned across our view.
“It’s nice to see it not pouring with rain and caked in mud like the movies.” She whispered. I eagerly agreed, very happy about not having to fight my way through several inches of horse-trodden mud.
Grasping our skirts, we twisted between people and horse-drawn carriages, finally stopping in front of a relatively large building, the carved wooden sign hanging above us revealing itself to be the one and only Prancing Pony, and the two of us craned our necks to look up and admire the famous building Reaching an arm out, Mrs Greenfoot hauled the hefty wooden door open, and the four of us took our first steps into the inn.
Approaching the bar near the door, I watched Bilbo wipe the thunderous look on his face, turning away from where he was scowling at Gladiola to face the bartender approaching us.
“Good afternoon!” The man called, leaning his round body over the counter to take us all in with a hearty smile. “The name’s Mr Butterbur, but you lot can call me Barney. What can I do for the four of you?”
“Two rooms, if you please.” Answered Bilbo, reaching into his pocket for the right amount of coins. “Preferably split one and three.”
“Ah, you got lucky!” said Mr Butterbur, sticking his hand under the counter to bring out two keys. “You came at the right time – travelling’s picking up again now that winter’s over.” He handed the keys to Bilbo. “Rooms 5 and 6. Say, will you lot be coming down for dinner? I have a feeling it’ll be quiet this evening and we’re serving roast beef and potatoes.”
“Yes, that’ll be lovely.” Replied Gladiola with a warm smile.
Thanking the bartender once again, we set off, crossing the sparsely populated room of tables, considering it was only late afternoon, and up the narrow, creaking stairs on the other side. It didn’t take long to walk down the upper hallway to find the matching rooms, Bilbo handing us our key before he unlocked the door of his own room, insisting the separation was basic courtesy.
Evening came round quickly, our time spent downstairs in the tavern. Bilbo, Kay and Gladiola were currently sat at a table by one of the windows, and I was up by the bar, sipping a steaming tankard of tea on a rickety stool as I waited for Mr Butterbur to refill Bilbo’s wine.
“Say, I don’t suppose you know a place that could sell weapons?” I asked.
He was quiet for a moment, only raising a bushy brow as he peered down at me. Slowly, he set the refilled cup of wine down, before taking a rag out to wipe the surface. “Depends, what kind of weapons are you looking for?” he said lowly.
“Oh, nothing too dramatic.” I waved dismissably. “My friend and I are looking to venture out by ourselves at some point, you see. And we’re looking for something that’s durable and efficient, but easy to get used to, that beginners can handle.”
He seemed to lighten up again, throwing the cloth down as he braced both of his arms on the bar, eyes darting around in thought.
“Are you sure you two want to do that?” he asked with a stern but gentle look. “I’ve never been, but I’ve heard the Shire is one of the safest places you can live, the world outside? Not so much. Besides, you wouldn’t want to leave your dad alone, now would you?”
I blinked. “My – ?” I spun on my chair, looking at our table when my eyes made contact with Bilbo’s, who already seemed to be staring over with light concern on his face. “Oh! He’s no – yea, he’s uh, only been our.. ‘dad’ for a few months though.”
“Even more reason to stay!” Mr Butterbur said, reaching over to poke my shoulder slightly. “You don’t want to go breaking his poor heart right after he opened it up to let you both in!”
I turned back towards the bar, a solemn look falling upon my face as I stared at the tankard in my hands. “I know it’s just…” I heaved a long sigh. “I had a family,” My voice quavered as I looked up at him with wide eyes. “No, I have a family. I wasn’t brought here by choice, I –” I pressed my palms over my teary eyes as the events from the last six months hit me all at once. “I don’t know how we got here and I can’t get us back.” I cried.
“Hey, hey,” he murmured gently, laying a hand on my shoulder. “I don’t know what the two of you have gone through, but it seems that you’re distressed about the sudden change and you don’t even realise it.”
Blinking through the blur of tears, I looked up at him. “I have a bit. Bilbo’s found me crying at night over it more than once, but I’ve been telling him it’s nightmares of the night he found us.”
“A bad night?” he asked, smiling gently under his moustache.
“Very.” I replied with a wobbly grin. “I don’t think I’ve ever been that terrified before.”
He looked me up and down concerned, eyeing the large pink scar on my hand as I stared at it. He went to open his mouth, when he was interrupted.
“Oi Barney!” A man called from one of the tables nearby. “Don’t suppose we could get another round of mead?”
“I’ll bring ‘em round in a minute!” he called back, before turning to me once more. “Well you two have certainly had an experience, from what I can put together. But,” he lowered his voice again. “coming from a stranger, the best thing you can do, until you can find a way to get back, is to just carry on, and keep your hobbit dad company. Or, you know, find him a spouse – depends on whether he’s the bachelor type or not.”
I choked on my drink at the last statement, looking over at the hobbit with a grin. “Well whoever manages to charm him is gonna need a very strong metaphorical hammer.” I laughed. “Cuz that hobbit has enough stubbornness and resilience to rival the walls of Helm’s Deep.”
Mr Butterbur let out sharp laugh, almost spilling the tankard of beer he was filling. “Helm’s Deep! Blimey, you two must’ve done something insane to persuade him to take you in.” He chortled as he began lining up mugs of mead. “Anyway, you were asking about weapons, and I know of a guy that has a stall in the market square, name it and he’ll probably sell it.”
I perked up at the new subject. “Okay, what area of the square?”
“North-east corner, the blacksmiths.” He replied. “Ask for a man named Seathan Marshsteel. Tall, burly guy with a long dark beard and wavy hair, normally tied in a bun or something. Could be mistaken for a dwarf if it weren’t for the fact he’s over six foot.” He described with a chortle. “He’ll know what to give you, but best you go in the early hours, so the good stuff doesn’t get snagged first.”
“That’s great, thank you so much!” I exclaimed, finally getting up from the stool. Turning to face him fully, I gave him the sincerest smile I could. “And thanks for the advice, too.”
He waved a large hand in dismissal. “Don’t mention it. I prefer conversations with the emotional sober, than the emotional drunk.”
Giving him a laugh and a wave, I returned to the table with Bilbo’s refilled drink and my own, relaying the information Mr Butterbur had given me to Kay. The rest of that evening was spent in that corner, eating roast beef, potatoes and vegetables along with the rest of the taverns patrons, before retiring to bed for the night, ready for the next morning.
--
The murmurs of people and trotting of hooves were yet to be heard when I woke the next morning, only the chirping of the early birds, the occasional pair of footsteps scuffling beneath our window along with the crackle and pops of the dying fire across the room could be made out as I blinked the sleep away from my eyes.
I laid there for a while, staring up at the ceiling cast in dark shadows by the glowing embers as Kay and Mrs Greenfoot slept on. It still felt a little strange not having my phone on the bedside table, the calm piano of my alarm floating through my ears. The battery died on the fourth night after arriving at Bilbo’s, and I had cried endlessly, reality setting in as a realised that the only potential way of contacting my family was gone, unless we found a way back. I was mostly terrified of not being able to see their faces, but managed to calm myself slightly when I went through my small collection of polaroids and found a couple family portraits. I had stored them in the envelope stuck on the back page of my grimoire, for safe keeping but also as a way of keeping them near me for good luck. Going back through the polaroids, another stroke of luck hit me as I had found a polaroid of Kay and her mum, along with her dog Barkley, that I had taken on one of her birthdays, the two of them smiling at their dining table next to a cake glowing with candles, and the large dog laid by their feet. I had slid it under her door that night, deciding to give her some time alone with it. She had come to breakfast that next morning not saying much, only quietly thanking me before settling into her meal.
Coming back to the present, I decided it was time for me to get up. I took my clothes to the bathroom, slipping on a set of light briefs and a vest top over my underwear, an extra layer to battle the early spring chill, then sliding on my shift and finally my pale green summer kirtle.
Kay and Gladiola had roused from their sleep by the time I was sat on my bed sliding my socks on. I gave them a quick ‘Good morning’, before lacing up my trusty modern walking boots, and walking out the door to go knock on Bilbo’s.
The hobbit was already up, calling through the door that he would meet us downstairs for breakfast. I returned to my room to wait for the other two, before taking the stairs down.
We got lucky that the tavern served an early breakfast, the four of us able to down the meal and get out the door when there was still only a few people wandering the streets. The sun hadn’t fully risen either, the rays only managing to shine through the gaps of buildings and alleyways, highlighted by the fading mist as the jettying upper floors kept parts of the street within the dark blue shadows of the early hours.
“– well I would like to see if they have any rolls of lace as well.” Chirped Gladiola, chattering away about the fabrics and lace she wants to try and find, and that if she got commissioned to create some more outfits with the new fabrics, she might be able to afford a new sewing desk. “I’ll be refusing any requests from your relative Lobelia, Mr Baggins. You know what she said the other day? Marched right up to poor Melba and asked her why she was wearing dishrags right in front of her friends!” she exclaimed.
“She did what?!?!” Kay shrieked in outrage.
“I know! I’m surprised you Bilbo haven’t done something to sever her from the family tree!” Gladiola said as she turned to him.
“Believe me, it’s the one thing I want.” He grumbled. “I’ve had far too many of my possessions vanish only to appear in her parlour.”
After listening to the two of them slag off Bilbo’s relative, we had finally arrived at the market. People were still sparse, only a few meandering the stalls whilst some sellers were still setting up shop.
Using the east-rising sun as a reference, Kay and I headed towards the north-east corner, with Bilbo hot on our heels. We waved goodbye to Gladiola, who ventured off with her coin purse towards the colourful fabric stalls on the other side. Walking up the path past stalls selling everything from arrays of meat to bed linens, the smells of metallic blood, spices and cloth filled our senses as our eyes set on a grey canopy propped up by wooden posts attached to a building with a blacksmiths sign hanging from it. Underneath was a counter that was part of the wall, the stall actually being part of the building itself. Approaching the counter, we peered into the shop. Weapons of all kinds lined the walls, even more hung on the racks stuck in the middle of the room like aisles, or on the ceiling like stalactites. The fire in the corner was burning bright, along with the torches lining the walls, filling our nostrils with the strong smell of smoke and the warmth of hot steel, so we figured someone was in.
Kay leant over the counter to try and look around, before calling out.
“Hello?”
A bang resonated through the air, followed by a string of hissed curses. It wasn’t long until a figure appeared hunched from behind one of the tables, clutching and rubbing to back of his head as he muttered under his breath. He gave it one last rub, before standing straight and stretching his back. Placing down the small hammer in his hand, he turned to face us with a frown, though it quickly turned to one of slight surprise. He matched the description Mr Butterbur had given me: Quite tall, about 6’3, well built and muscular, with thick wavy almost black hair, half tied up in a loose bun, with a beard reaching halfway down his chest. He was wearing a pair of loose trousers tied with a thick belt and a baggy tunic rolled up at the sleeves, and covered in patches of soot and grime, his time in the forge on clear display.
Eyeing us up and down, he took his time wandering over, using a cloth to wipe his calloused hands down whilst his face held an expression of poorly concealed confusion. The look increased tenfold as Bilbo peeked over the edge, resting his forearms on the wooden surface to prop himself up. Reaching us, he plopped the rag down, bracing his arms on the counter as his pale blue eyes took the three of us in.
“Can I… help you?” he queried, an accent similar to an Irish one strong on his tongue as he squinted at us, looking as if he couldn’t wrap his head around what was in front of him. I tried not to cough when the smell of smoke increased tenfold, rolling off him in waves.
Nodding, I slapped the list I had taken from Bilbo earlier on the counter. “Yes,” I affirmed eagerly. “We were hoping if you had anything on the list in stock.”
Taking a moment to look between me and the piece of paper, he slowly reached out, pulling the list towards him and picking it up, before grasping the spectacles that hung from his neck by some string, and sliding them on.
He spent about twenty seconds flitting his eyes between us and the list, covering it in black fingerprints until he lowered it a looked down at us over his glasses.
“You three aren’t from around here, are you?” he remarked, his deep, throaty voice resonating through the chill, morning air. “I don’t advertise outside the town unless I speak to you personally, so who told you about me?”
Slightly taken aback by the man’s cautious demeanour, I stepped in the explain. “Uh – we were recommended to visit you by Mr Butterbur?” I managed out, gesturing in the direction of the inn. “from the, uh, Pr-”
“- The Prancing Pony, I know. We’re well acquainted.” He said with a small smile though quickly returned to eyeing us up. “Tell me, what do two young girls and a hobbit want within the weapons trade. You don’t look experienced to me.”
“Which is exactly the problem.” I stated firmly. “We aren’t. And therefore we want to learn how.”
He slowly regarded the three of us with a look, and I prepared for the disappointment of his potential refusal. “Ok,” he sighed, tapping his soot-covered fingernails rhythmically on the wood. “How long are you here for?”
At our silent confusion, he raised a brow expectantly.
“Uh?” Kay vocalised, her eyes dazed in confusion. “A week? We’ve got six days left.”
“And why?” I added. “Do you need time to make them?”
He shook his head. “No.” He stated, baffling us further. Sighing, he began explaining. “None of you look like you’ve seen combat during any day of your lives, so, my proposal is in exchange for six days of dinners at the inn, I give you six days’ worth of basic training.”
Surprised, I slowly turned towards Kay, eyes wide and eyebrows raised. She eyed me back, and grins began to slowly grow on our faces. We turned to confirm the deal, when the hobbit I had forgotten was between us spoke up.
“H-hold on!” he cried, pointing a finger to emphasise his point. “You don’t know any of us. How do we know we can trust what you’re saying?”
Seathan rested on his elbows so he could lean over the counter to face the grumpy hobbit. “Do you trust Mr Butterbur?”
“Mr-” Bilbo sputtered. “We barely had one conversation with him!”
“He did seem nice though.” Kay butted in, and Bilbo whipped his head at her in outrage.
“And it’s a fair deal.” I added, watching in amusement as Bilbo comically flips his head between us, shock evident on his face. “I’ll make you Victoria cakes weekly in return.” I quickly added.
Grumbling under his breath, he eventually gave in. “Fine, they,” he emphasised, pointing to the both of us. “trust the bartender.”
“Then you can trust me.” Seathan replied warmly with a deep rumble of a laugh. “You won’t learn quickly on your own – so meet me outside the inn at 7 o'clock each morning and I’ll give you a rundown of everything. We’ll have breaks at lunch, and finish in time for dinner.”
“Woah, are you sure?” Kay held up a hand to slow him down, brows furrowed in confusion. “Why are you offering this to us so quickly? We’ve only just met you.”
Seathan pushed himself up from his elbows with a grunt, towering over us as he stood to his full height. “My daughters.” He revealed bluntly. “My wife’s not big on me sharing this but they asked the same thing you did. I said no, and they were injured in a small goblin ambush during one of our travels.” A sombre look fell over his eyes. “They have since recovered, but that guilt has weighed on me ever since, therefore I’ve wanted to offer training to girls and women when they’ve been given no opportunity to do so before.”
Kay nodded slowly, happy with the explanation. “I’m sorry to hear that – I’m glad they’re ok now. So we’ll meet you tomorrow?”
“Come round sometime after luncheon today if you can.” Seathan requested. “The sooner I can get swords in your hands the better.”
Thanking him, we wandered back into the depths of the market, it’s scents dominating our senses once again as we scanned for our other hobbit companion.
---
That morning whizzed by as fast as we would allow it, our nervous excitement for the afternoon sending a slightly uncomfortable buzz through our stomachs, the thought of what was to come prominent on our minds as we scarfed our ham and lettuce sandwiches down. We had changed outfits as well – I now sat in my cream blouse and baggy brown corduroy dungarees, and Kay in her black tank top with some loose, pale brown trousers that closely resembled cargos, and a knitted cardigan slung on top. Sure, it looked a little modern, but we hoped the earthy colours would keep people’s interest away
When we had finished, we wandered outside, only to find Seathan waiting beside the door, instead of where he said he would be by the blacksmiths. Pushing himself off the wall he slowly strode over, no longer donned in his apron, choosing to only remain in his slightly sooty shirt and dungarees.
“You girls ready?” he questioned as he pulled his curls back to tie them with a piece of cloth. Shifting a little, he looked behind us. “Where’s your hobbit friend?”
Still a bit hesitant about his forwardness, I gave him a simple reply. “He doesn’t want to come – said he had planned this week for relaxing and wine tasting.”
He gave a nod as he chuckled. “Fair enough.” He remarked, and beckoned us along as he began trapsing down the now bustling street, the two of us following not long after.
Leading us down a wide alley just before we hit the market, he led us through some of the residential housing, that slowly turned from the fusty smelling, overhanging town houses that were packed together like sardines, to detached cottages with front gardens lined with crudely woven branches to act as fences, goats, donkeys and the odd cat mulling about the small patches of crops in each one. The town was fully alive now, the sun passing midday as everyone got on with their jobs and chores, voices and shouting echoing from down each passage as we trekked past. We were thankful that the early spring weather had allowed the sun to dry out the large mud patches that would’ve otherwise sucked up our poor shoes, watching the solid cracks and chunks grow in size the closer we got to the more rural neighbourhoods.
Rounding one last cottage, we came face to face with the open countryside, the grass long and swaying in the gentle breeze, with the occasional oak tree sheltering a few livestock from the 12 o’clock sun. Climbing over a rickety fence, Seathan brought us to our destination. A large patch of grass had been shortened – about half the size of a football field, and somewhat recently if the loose grass piles and faint smell of freshly cut grass mixed with the usual stink of livestock said anything. Down one of the edges were several wooden posts that had been hammered into the ground, branches and planks nailed on to make them look like human dummies, covered in chips and gashes where they had been practiced on previously. Down another side were some makeshift archery targets; wooden circles cut from tree trunks with white and red paint hastily slapped on in rings.
Eyeing up the equipment, I blindly followed the sound of Seathan’s footsteps. When they stopped, I turned my head to face him, about to ask what was to happen, only to flail my arms out in an attempt to catch the wooden sword that was flung at my face. Managing to grab it at the very edge of the hilt, I darted my wide eyes to the towering man to watch him chuck another at Kay, who had watched my floundering and was prepared enough to catch it with ease.
Picking up a slightly larger wooden sword, he weighed and swung it around as he approached us. “Ok. We’re going to start out with some wooden swords.” He held up a hand as Kay opened her mouth. “And before you protest, I would much rather you get bruises from these rather than deal with a mutilated limb from an actual sharpened sword.”
Pouting, Kay snapped her jaw shut, and we both trailed after him into the centre of the field.
“Now,” he began, turning to us, signalling for us to place our swords down as he did the same. “I know you two won’t gain the arm strength for swinging swords overnight, so we’ll start with some footwork so you don’t twist the wrong way and fall on your own weapon.”
The next couple hours were spent with us practicing out foot spacing and placement, Seathan reaching down to twist our ankles slightly every once in a while, shouting which way to put our feet when spinning around to face potential enemies as we spun and twisted to each end of the field. It oddly felt like I was back in my ballet classes, learning how to walk on the tip of my toes for the very first time again.
Eventually we were able to pick up the swords, learning how to use our arms alongside our feet as we twisted and turned to block his mock attacks that got stronger and stronger each hour, the man insisting that defence was the first and most important thing to learn when it came to combat.
Sweat was running down both of our backs by the time Seathan had called it a day, the sun now nearing the treeline in the distance as the breeze began to cool the moisture on our skin, sending chills down our backs.
“Ughhhhh I feel so muckyyyy.” Kay groaned as she chucked her sword back in the makeshift chest under one of the nearby trees, holding her arms out in front of her as she tried to pick her cardigan up with the tips of her now mud-stained fingers.
“Tell me about it.” I grumbled, exhausted as I reached down to grab the half-filled water tankard, given to us by a lovely woman who had seen us being worked to death by Seathan, who had actually introduced herself as his aforementioned wife. When she had suspiciously asked what we had used to pay him, she had sighed knowingly when we revealed it was several dinners.
“He only asks for that because I don’t let him.” She had muttered amusedly to us as she refilled one of the animal troughs for us to wash our hands in. “He’d be down there every other night stuffing his face otherwise – says Barney’s steak is a god-send. I told him throwing up on customers after eating it all would have an enormous impact on his business’s reputation.”
After chatting to the friendly woman for a few minutes, we were soon ushered up by Seathan, who had hardly broken a sweat at all that day – ‘the pros of working with a kiln every day, you build a resilience to heat’ he had remarked proudly.
Trudging back through the now-calmer town, we wearily made our way back to the Prancing Pony.
---
“By Yavanna, look at the state of you two!!” Bilbo had cried when we walked in, the hobbit gawping at our less-than acceptable appearances. “Yuv’got – mud. Everywhere!” he sputtered, gesturing at our clothes. “Go change, now.”
Snorting at his antics, the two of us dashed up the stairs of the inn, disappearing before we could watch the seething hobbit turn on our slightly nervous teacher.
When we returned having changed into our original clothes from this morning, we joined the two hobbits and Seathan at the table, who we’re all currently waiting for us to arrive before eating the fresh plates of dinner placed in front of them. We sat down and began eating whilst Seathan was recounting what he had taught us as he scarfed down his well-earned meal.
“– yea, they’re getting the hang of it quite quickly!” he stated with a proud grin. “Could say we’ve got a couple of naturals on our hands.”
I smiled back. “I’m just glad we weren’t thrown under the bus straight away, otherwise I would’ve given up.” I joked, but my joking was immediately stopped at the feeling of my throat jamming up, and I clenched my teeth, digging my nails into my palm as I tried not to make it obvious.
Seathan paused, his fork halfway to his mouth as he glanced at me with a bewildered look. “What’s a bus?”
Staring at him, I remained silent waiting for the invisible hands to stop choking me, and he began frowning as he noticed my cheeks turn a slight pink. I flinched slightly as I felt Kay’s foot kick my shin, and my airway opened once again, and it took me a lot of strength to not heave on the spot. I quickly darted my eyes over to see Kay staring at me, silently staring at me as she realised what was going on. Facing the other three, who were looking at me with curious looks, I racked my brain for an excuse.
“Oh! It’s uh.. just a saying where we’re from.” I laughed nervously, still trying to hide my excessive breathing. “We have different names for transport there. Like, um, a carriage is, obviously, known as a carriage, ha ha, but we have nicknames for it, like bus, or.. or car for short?”
A few moments of silence of passed as they processed my rambling.
“Bus is a strange word to call a carriage.” Muttered Seathan, furrowing his brows. “But, if that’s what your lot have named it, then I won’t be one to judge.” He shrugged before returning to stuffing his mouth with potatoes. Bilbo and Gladiola were already back to eating, used to our strange words and sayings by this point.
I glanced at Kay, only to see her glaring at me with raised eyebrows. I narrowed my own back at her mockingly, raising my tankard of tea to my face. “It’s not my fault we’re stuck with medieval people.” I muttered from behind it.
All I got was mashed potato flicked at my forehead in return.
---
The following five days flew by, Seathan putting us through intense training that was far more gruelling than we thought. I mean, c’mon, doing ten laps around the field is a tad bit excessive, plus, arms wield swords, not legs.
I regrettably voiced those thoughts to our teacher, who then proceeded to have us do push-ups and lifting heavy tools he brought from his shop every hour, much to our frustration. He also asked if there was anything else we wanted to learn the basics in – I had said archery, after enjoying it a few times at festivals and residential trips with school or the girl-guiding groups I was in. Kay had excitedly said she wanted to learn throwing axes. And then proceeded the extra push-ups and benching, Seathan insisting that if we wanted to learn a practice that required a hell of a lot of arm strength, then it will have to be a daily task of exercise for as long as possible before we got to our full strength. I collapsed in protest at that.
By the time Monday rolled around, the two of us could barely pick up a fork to eat, and Gladiola fretted over us as she helped shovel food onto our forks, whilst Bilbo glared daggers over the table at an amused Seathan, muttering under his breath about the ways he was going to set the man’s giant beard on fire.
---
“Oh, you two are going to have to show me what you’ve learnt on the way back!” exclaimed Gladiola as she folded our belongings into our packs, due to our arms and legs still unfortunately incapacitated. “And make sure you give that man the biggest thank you for what he’s done – not just anyone is willing to give up their time for strangers.”
“Yes mum.” Was all Kay groaned, voice muffled from where she was face-planted on her pillow. Slowly rolling over with a prolonged whine, she faced to where I was splayed out like a starfish on the next bed over. “We’re gonna die before we even reach the evening.” She mumbled, face half scrunched by the pillow.
“Now don’t say that.” Lectured Gladiola, whipping Kay’s ankle with a sock as she pattered by with the copious amounts of fabrics and ribbons she had bought, only receiving a short grunt in response. “We’ve got a four-day travel ahead of us, and with that mood, I’ll be forcing you both to carry mine and Bilbo’s packs.”
Slowly pushing herself up, copper strands still stuck to her face, Kay swung her legs over the bed. “Fine.” She mumbled. “We’re up.”
“Good.” Gladiola replied with a smile. “We should have left ten minutes ago, so Kate if you don’t get up we’re leaving you behind.” She half joked as she hauled our packs out the doorway.
“Girlie, c’mon.” Added Kay as she shook my ankle.
Reluctantly, I pushed myself up the best I could, trying to ignore the agonising aches all over my body as I laced up my boots and followed the two out the door.
---
“Now remember, you have to do the exercises I’ve given you at least an hour every day, and memorise the tips I’ve given you for hitting enemy’s weak spots.” Seathan lectured, handing us two sheets of parchment. “I’ve written them down here, and I’ve also thrown in some blunt steel swords so you can upgrade when you both feel ready to.”
Accepting the objects gratefully, we pushed some coins into the man’s hands so he could reward himself with some extra meals, thanked him profusely as we stood by the entrance gate to Bree, trying our best to ignore the lingering stare of the gatekeeper as he peered suspiciously at us.
“Oh, I almost forgot!” said Seathan, marching hurriedly over to a long leather pack that was propped against the wall surrounding the town. Returning to us, he loosened the strings of the pack and pulled the contents out.
“Here’s a set of throwing axes for Kay, and a bow and arrows for you, Kate. I also threw in some polish, oil, and tools for sharpening the blades of the axes and arrows, along with replacement strings for the bow and whatnot.”
“What?!?!” we both said consecutively.
“We can’t accept that –” “It’s too much! – ”
“I paid for it.”
Freezing, the two of us slowly turned until we faced Bilbo, who stared back, before sighing.
“You two can’t be taught all that and expect to leave with hardly anything.” He explained almost nonchalantly, pulling out the crumpled list we had written. “You wouldn’t have gotten anything on your list.”
A beat passed, before I flew down and scooped him up into my arms.
“WHAT THE – ” he sputtered.
“Father.” I said. He froze.
“Father.” Kay repeated, reaching over to continuously pat the curls on his head.
He whipped his head between us with panicked eyes. “WH- I’M NOT YOUR DAD – PUT ME DOWN!”
“Told you he adopted them.” We heard Gladiola mutter to Seathan.
Eventually placing him down, the two of us knelt down to drag him into a hug, despite his grumbling.
“Thank you.” Kay whispered. “For everything.”
With a sigh, he settled, reaching up to wrap his arms around us both. “You’re welcome, but for the love of Yavanna don’t make me regret any of it.”
With matching cheshire grins, we assured him we wouldn’t, before clambering up excitedly to receive the pack of shiny new weapons from Seathan. And within a few minutes, we were waving a hearty farewell to the blacksmith, yelling our goodbyes and thanks until he disappeared behind the closing gate.
Walking through the trees, we chattered away endlessly about the events of the past week, failing to see the two pairs of glowing blue eyes, watching us from the treeline.
---
2 MONTHS LATER
A couple months had passed since we had arrived back in the Shire, and a lot had happened since then.
We had shown Gladiola the techniques we were taught during the evenings when we were on our return trip, and she had pleaded that we taught her kids, saying how they had always wanted to play knights when they were younger. A couple weeks in, Kay and I had stumbled across a clearing on the outskirts of Hobbiton, surrounded by trees and seasonal wildflowers with a scenic view of the town from where it was further up one of the hills. It was a perfect spot; close enough to Bag End where Bilbo could sit on the bench by his front door and watch us, but the trees made it private enough for us to set up targets to practice both our weapons training, along with our magic, without the risk of someone stumbling upon us.
The most exciting part, however, was meeting Bertin Grubb, who owned the pony stables across town. After seeing the lean muscle we had begun to develop on our arms from the training, he had offered us a job assisting him with caring for the ponies, figuring we were tall and strong enough to handle the animals when they were being stubborn. It took a while getting used to, having to bend down excessively to use the small hobbit-sized wheelbarrow, or the rake with a handle too short for two girls at least twice the height of the average hobbit. But he eventually managed to get us some suitable enough, and we thoroughly loved every second, excited to finally be able to pay Bilbo back for everything he had done, especially when doing a job as fun as ours.
Except for shovelling the horse crap.
It stank.
---
Bag End, Hobbiton, The Shire – T.A. Friday, 5th May 2940 of the Third Age (Highday, 15th Thrimidge, 1340 in Shire-reckoning)
The sun was barely rising when Kay and I got up, readying ourselves for an early shift when we received a letter that Bertie had received two new animals and needed the extra hands earlier than normal.
Trudging down the path as the birds sang their morning song, we munched on the poached eggs buns Bilbo had shoved into our hands as we were about to step out the door, before he had promptly marched back to bed for a well-earned lie in.
Blinking away the sleep from my eyes, I mumbled a conversation with Kay as we walked between the hedges lining the path. Soon enough, we neared the stables, only to see a frantic looking Bertie, who seemed to be nervously waiting for us whilst tightly clutching his cap between his short fingers by the wooden archway leading in. When his wide brown eyes landed on us as we rounded the corner, he cried out in relief.
“Oh thank Yavanna you’re here!” he cried, jogging over to us. “A friend of mine found them wandering the outskirts looking all muddy and he begged me to take them cause they were eating his crops but they’re so large I don’t know what to do with them! I –”
“Woah, woah! Hey!” I raised my voice slightly to cut off his rambling. “What do you mean large? What are they?”
“Horses!” he wailed, dragging his hands down his face. “Giant! Horses!”
Kay perked up, trying to look through the archway. “Really? Can we see them?”
Bertie looked up at her with a sweaty forehead and hopeful eyes. “That’s the thing.” He laughed meekly. “I was hoping you two could take charge of them? I’m afraid I might get stepped on if I go near them again.”
Following Bertie into the stables, he led us to the end stalls, to where there were two of possibly the tallest horses I had ever seen in my life.
One was patterned like a cow, black and white patches covering it’s body, the other pitch black, with only small, pure white socks colouring the ends its fluffy hooves, and a singular white star-like stripe running down its head.
Feeling like one of those girls in those magical horse novels, I slowly approached the black one, its features resembling those of a Shire horse – fitting, considering where we were. Kay’s looked like a Clydesdale, and I watched from the corner of my eye as she neared it, wonder glinting in her eyes as she offered her hand. I followed with my own, looking up at the beast that towered over me, the top of my head barely reaching its snout despite my tall height, as it’s black eyes peered back down to meet my own dark brown ones.
“Now you know why I can’t look after them myself.” Bertie half-laughed, flitting his eyes between the two animals, keeping his distance from the two animals as he watched, scuffing his heel against the floor like he wanted to bolt. “They’re girls, so hopefully won’t be territorial or anything that could cause issues with the ponies.”
I snorted. “I’m pretty sure you’ve just given the ponies two empresses to worship – they’ll probably follow them around the pasture like loyal minions whenever they’re together.” I grinned as I faced the poor hobbit, who looked on the verge of trembling.
He took a shaky breath. “Ok, well, you can do what you like with them, just make sure they don’t go mental and destroy half the place. Please.”
“I doubt they’ll do that.” Piped up Kay, who had now managed to start stroking the snout of her horse. “If you managed to get them here without a fuss, then they should remain docile.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “Hopefully.”
After that, Bertie quickly wrapped up the conversation, clearly desperate to get elsewhere so he didn’t have to face the two powerhouses bunking in the stables next to each other. He had mumbled about finding saddles and equipment large enough for them, before quickly scurrying off.
Turning back to face the horse in front of me, I reached up to gently place my hand on its sloping snout. “What’re you naming yours?” I asked, turning to her.
Looking up at the pink snout that was trying to nibble at her hand, she pondered for a moment. “Mmm, something like Calhourn maybe.”
“Nice.” I complimented. “I thought you would’ve gone for something like Moo Moo.”
She snorted. “That’s something you would go for.” She paused. “But it is a strong contender. Perhaps I’ll have it as a nickname.” She turned to me. “What’re you gonna choose?”
“Spleens.”
“No.”
“Ok, how about Felony?”
“Better, cooler, sounds like a name, but maybe choose something more… socially acceptable.”
I grunted in annoyance. “I want a name that disturbs people when they hear it – it’ll be a good conversation starter.”
“It’ll also be a good way to start the conversation of creating Middle Earth’s first mental asylum.” Kay deadpanned. “You can name something like your first pet cat Spleens, but not a horse that you could be riding into battle and potentially have written down in history.”
“But it’ll be the most remembered.” I pouted.
“And the most judged. Now, save the poor horse her dignity and give her a nice name.” she demanded.
“Doo Doo Daggins.”
“I swear to god.”
“Ok! Ok!” I giggled, petting the horse’s snout as she nudged at my hand. “Something fancy then.”
She nodded. “Yea, maybe something that relates to something you do? I don’t know – your witch stuff has a lot of fancy words in it.”
My eyes lit up. “Ohh! What about Hecate!? It links to my practice, and could be some type of dedication to her as a deity!”
Kay raised her brows. “That’s actually not bad. You gonna give her a nickname?”
I pondered for a moment. “Yea. Spleens.”
Kay just sighed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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i was messaging this guy, a friend, and we literally started talking today and were messaging for like 4hrs straight and then he read my last messages and didn’t reply and now im scared if i did something wrong. was it something i said ? idk, it wasn’t a crazy message, we were just talking about a clothes shop that i wanted to go to, that’s all, and now i feel bad because idk if i did something. he could simply be busy, but he could also be wanting to stop talking to me. he could also be plotting to figure out who i am behind my account, because it’s an anonymous vent twt acc, and outing me, bc i partially rt and talk about kink and stuff on there…im scared. but he’s so nice, and he spoke to me for hours on end with zero breaks so he can’t hate me, right ? idk, i hope me messages back soon, i need to go to sleep anyway because it’s nearly 6am, so hopefully i see his messages when i wake up later ? idk…praying so hard rn
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Okay, so you said positive reinforcement helps with your writing, so buckle up. "Pieces"-- Literally the level of writing I aspire to be at. It's SO. WELL. DONE. Including the latest chapter and I'm sure the rest will be amazing, too. "Party Favours"-- my number one comfort fic of all time. I go back and reread it CONSTANTLY, any time I need a bit of a pick-me-up. Also the kiss scene in the hallway is THE HOTTEST THING I HAVE EVER READ IN MY LIFE. "Bleeding Heart"/ "An Honest Lie"-- You write Rosalie with so much love that it has made ME love her (so much so that I'm a little like "move over Astarion, she's out of both of our leagues but I know how to treat her right") and I reread chapters all the time. The dialogue alone is top notch. Lastly, I mean, I know NOTHING about Dragon Age or Shadow and Bone but I MUST LEARN so I can read the rest of your stuff. You're so incredibly talented. Every writer has their anxieties and insecurities so it's understandable and obviously valid that you have them too, but *takes you gently by the shoulders* YOU ARE SO GIFTED. And we are all super grateful for you sharing your gift with us. So thank you. So so much!
thank you anon, this message was very kind and the bit about Rosalie made me laugh - nothing like making an OC who stews in self-hate and then watch her get a line of suitors and still be like "I do not see it 😔". (and then going to therapy and my therapist staring at me meaningfully and I simply reply: "I do not see it😔".)
i appreciate the positive reinforcement. I've since realised that I got a little lost after chapter 19 of Pieces, because it was this massive plot point I'd been building up to, and while it had been really scary at the time and I felt a lot of pressure to get it right, the pressure did at least help to guide me forward and give me something to aim for. I've now got to find something new to aim for! While I know what the ending of the fic is, it's back to meandering my way to get there rather than having every single scene hammered down. Idk, I think possibly I am burned out and so things may slow down for a while? But I'm glad of the reminder that people enjoy my writing and I will hopefully have more updates for people soon xx
(also, don't learn about Shadow and Bone, don't do that to yourself, don't let netflix hurt you like that. Dragon Age is however BG3's spiritual predecessor so if you need more fantasy games with romance options you should buy it immediately x)
#asks#anons#lovely words from lovely people#i promise that when i have a sad girl hour on this blog i am not fishing. that is simply one of my Primary Modes of Being.#i am a sad girl extraordinaire!#but thank you for being kind anyway xx
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