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decks-writing-blog · 4 months

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Use This Power for Good

Summary: Gordon discovers that upon dying, he comes back and everything resets, including other people who had died.

[A/N] I'm a sucker for video game protagonists having the power to reset via death. It's neat and full of good angst opportunities. Also when I played Half-Life for the first time I was fairly save-scummy to save as many scientists as I could so upon Youtube reccing me a video about just how many it's physically possible to save, I of course watched it (I missed a bunch in my playthrough). Which, combined with the first thing, is what inspired this fic.

Also, my first Half-Life fic, yay! I'm late to the party but that's okay. Such is the case with most of the fandoms I write for these days.

Content Warning for temporary Character Death. He also commits suicide to purposefully trigger one of these resets.

Upon stepping out of the destroyed test chamber and realizing just how bad things had gotten, Gordon had been pretty sure he wasn’t likely to live much longer. The military showing up to clear out the alien invasion and all who knew of it made death inevitable. The HEV suit had done a lot to keep him alive but it could only do so much. But hey, he’d made it further than he ever would’ve thought he might, if he’d been given the time to think about it anyway. Along the way he’d helped as many as he could. Hopefully a few of them would be able to get out… somehow.

Gordon shifted in a vain attempt to make himself more comfortable. All he accomplished was sending a fresh stab of pain through his side as more blood welled out between his fingers. It was pooling on the floor around him and smeared on the wall behind him, filling the air with its now familiar coppery smell. If it spread a little further it’d soon start mingling with the pool of blood leaking out of the solider that had snuck up on him while he’d barely manged to fumble his way into taking out the rest of their squad. They’d died for the effort – Gordon may have never killed anything before today but he had been taught how to use a gun – but the fatal blow had already been made.

Perhaps something profound could be said about their blood mingling in death whilst surrounded by more dead, both alien and human alike. Something about the fragility of life even amongst beings from another world. Or maybe about how violence and killing wasn’t just a human trait but that of all life, regardless of its origin. … Or maybe Gordon was just starting to grow delirious with blood loss.

The end couldn’t be far off. His extremities, gone cold were now growing numb. He couldn’t even properly feel the blood oozing from where he clutched his side, his grip weakening letting it flow even more freely. Not that he’d been able to staunch it particularly well anyway. If his attempt to do so slowed his demise, it hadn’t been by much.

Darkness pulled at him, eating at the edges of his vision, tempting him to close his eyes and fall asleep. He didn’t. Fighting was futile but he’d known that for a while now, far longer than he’d been sitting here waiting to bleed out for. He was going to keep breathing for a long as he possibly could if for no other reason than to spite the world for just that little bit longer because fuck it for trying to kill him so hard.

Gordon blinked. Before him was a familiar hallway, leading to a closed door. On the other side of which would be a military squad, waiting to ambush him. He shouldn’t know that but he’d already gone through that door and… hadn’t survived the encounter.

Shaking a little, he looked down at himself. He was holding his shotgun as he’d been upon first going into that room, down but ready to snap up and fire should the need arise. The HEV suit was a bit scratched up and dented in a few spots but it was intact, no glaring hole in the side from an almost point blank shotgun blast that also tore up his side bad enough to leave him to slowly bleed out. It was fully charged too, meaning it could likely take such a blow and leave him only a little bruised. A quick check with the suit revealed all his ammo wasn’t as depleted as it should’ve been either.

What the hell was going on? One moment he’d been bleeding out, struggling for each and every breath. But now he was hearty and healthy again, as if the last twenty or so minutes hadn’t happened. … A dream or hallucination perhaps? This was the single most stressful day of his life after all, surely such things weren’t too far out of the question. It had felt so real though, especially the pain. Surely such pain couldn’t have been a dream. What else could it have been though?

If he went through that door, would the military squad be there again? Would the fellow who’d killed him? Only one way to find out.

He crept forward and pressed his ear to the door. … Nothing for a while but then… low muttering and the shifting of heavy boots. The door muffled the words to the point he couldn’t understand them but someone was certainly on the other side. Multiple someones since the speaker was most likely talking to someone else.

Straightening, he reached up and pressed the button to bring the HEV’s helmet up before adjusting his grip on his shotgun and bursting into the room. Exactly as before he was met with three soldiers immediately. Last time, he’d been somewhat surprised and had had to scramble. This time he knew exactly where to go and wasted no time in doing so.

Two more soldiers were waiting for him there but he was ready for them this time. As he got into position, he lifted the shotgun and blasted the closer one in the face, making their head explode in a shower of gore. Kicking the body into the guy behind them gave the perfect opportunity to blow their head off too. He hadn’t gotten a good look at either of their faces in either instance he was here but they had been standing in about the same exact spot. No time to think about that now though.

In response to Gordon moving to cover, the next two soldiers moved to the same positions as before. And then, sealing the deal that his death hadn’t been a dream, while Gordon was looking at them, the third came up behind him, ready to try to blast through the suit with a point blank shot while he was busy taking out the others. Knowing it was coming, Gordon turned and fired before they could get that close. Another close range head shot. Effective, especially with how heavily armored the soldiers’ torsos were, but gosh were they horrific. But with that guy down, the last two weren’t too much of an issue to take out as well.

As the gunshot’s echoes petered out, he lifted a hand to lower his helmet, allowing him to see properly once more. These military guys all looked similar, especially with their heads blown off, so there was still technically room to doubt they were the same ones he’d killed before dying himself. But they’d been in the same spots and had tried the same tactics to kill him so that doubt was rather small, bolstered only by the impossibility of not just Gordon coming back to life but the soldiers too.

Then again, before staring to work at Black Mesa almost a handful of years ago now, there’d been plenty of other things Gordon had thought impossible that proved to not be. Perhaps direct exposure to the resonance cascade had done something to him, altered the way time affected him or dropped him in a parallel universe upon dying. Or something else he was too frazzled to consider right now.

It was fascinating whatever it was. Oh, what he wouldn’t give to be back in the lab, studying it. … Except well, testing it would likely involve him dying some more or just again, assuming it could only happen once. In which case he didn’t really want to test it after all. After he got out of here, he’d try to find a way to study it that didn’t involve dying… assuming he ever got out of here. He’d just learned the hard way that, no matter how many aliens, zombies, or military goons he killed, he was still a soft squishy animal protected only by a hazard suit that even as advanced as it was, was still far from infallible.

Three more accidental deaths sealed the deal that when he died, he came back a seemingly random amount of time before that death. As before, with his death, everyone and everything else who’d also died in that time came back too, ignorant of the revival. Annoying when it came to the beings responsible for his death – though it did make killing them again easier – but a great good for the scientist he managed to save as a result. Which sealed the deal on him using this power for good.

How long had he been in this state? Presumably since the resonance cascade. If only he’d known, there were so many he’d tried and failed to save. Too late now though, he’d just have to do whatever he could to save everyone else that he could. … Which would undoubtedly mean he’d have to eventually face the decision of killing himself to reset things. Not a thing he was looking forward so he could only hope it wouldn’t happen soon. But of course it did.

The scientist screamed as the giant worm-like alien burst through the window to impale him with its sharp beak like protrusion. He kept screaming, his voice gurgling and wet, as it dragged him across the floor and out the window. It finally stopped a few moments later, leaving Gordon in a heavy silence as he stared at the trail of blood, leading to the broken window.

He took a couple steps forward and peeked out. There were three of them and they were huge. Or perhaps it was just one being with multiple appendages. Even after the horror he’d just seen it commit, it was still awe-inspiring. Alien life was likely just a complex and varied as that of Earth’s. Biology wasn’t Gordon’s passion or expertise but he still had an interest in it, enough to make him wish studying these beings were an option. … Especially since that would mean they wouldn’t be killing people because now he had to make a choice.

Continue forward and if he happened to die and come back at time to allow him to save the fellow he’d just watched die horribly or kill himself now and save him for sure. Not a comfortable choice. He didn’t even know the guy, this wasn’t the part of Black Mesa he worked in. But if he had the the power to help, he was morally obligated to, right? He certainly would’ve if he’d known it was an option back when he failed to save people he did know.

With a heavy sigh, he pulled out back stepped to where the alien creature couldn’t easily reach him through the window. That had looked a painful way to die, he had no wish to experience it. Instead he pulled out his pistol and placed it to his the side of his head. It was cold against his flesh, held steady only by how firmly he pressed it there. It would be okay though, he’d already died and come back four times, a fifth wouldn’t be too bad and this should be a much quicker death, maybe even painless. He would never be able live with himself if he had the power to prevent people’s death but refused because he was frightened.

If he had to do it though, it’d be really damn nice if he could send himself all the way back to the start though. Even if that meant restarting this whole nightmare, it’d be worth it. But even if he hadn’t known of his power then, he did now, meaning he had to use it. So after taking a deep breath, he held it for a few seconds before pulling the trigger.

Sirens blared as lights flashed and sparked around him, making him feel dizzy and unwell. Pushing himself up and the back to his feet, he looked around. … He was in the test chamber again, right after all everything had gone wrong. Seems, his thought of wanting to go back had somehow brought him back here; he had some control over whatever this was.

A good thing, this was what he’d wanted. But also… he’d made it so far. Now he had to do all that again. Lying down for a nap first would’ve been great but he didn’t have time. Lives were at stack and depending on him. Also, he was bound to learn more about this power of his along the way. That was going to be interesting, though likely unpleasant as well, to say the least. So he squared his shoulders, shook himself off as best he could and marched out to begin the nightmare again. This time, he was going to save everyone he possibly could, even if that meant dying a dozen more times.

#Half life #gordon freeman

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setirophx · 2 months

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Meet the Writer

ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘɪᴄᴋ ᴜᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴜꜱᴇ(ꜱ) ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ?

(CANON MUSES) - i dunno man. i like 'em a little broken and a little fucked up. and a bit of a smartass with a soft heart under it all. that really applies to most my muses to some degree. reno started out as my fresh start after leaving a pretty terrible stint in another fandom. he was easy to approach or to approach others. he was a blank slate enough that i could be creative with crafting a background and development while still having a basis to work from. there also weren't several variations of him over decades of ever changing content via movies and comicbooks to narrow down from. and now he's practically straddling that canon vs oc line for me. this version of him is mine and mine alone. for sephiroth specifically, i'll be honest, i didn't really care too much about him for the longest time. mostly because he felt too empty and boring to me as a villain. so i didn't feel compelled to making up some background to fill in the gaps. then i played crisis core and that humanized him for me. but i still hesitated to actually write him. and then evercrisis came out with him as a teen. and just. i just think he's neat now. (OCs) - aw man, i love ocs so much. i have such a penchant for creative overflow and end up making them in batches. (usually all related to a single story or universe) but i know they can be a hard sell if they aren't already aligned to a fandom. which is totally understandable! i really have too many ocs that i'd love to write, especially in ff7 verses, but its hard to juggle them all. a few of them still have blogs, so maybe one day i can bully some people into writing with them. (:<

ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ?

its not that i dislike writing anything in particular. on the contrary. i would love to write more questionable content. though i'd prefer to write these less savory themes with people i'm most comfortable with and understand that its just exploring things in writing and not some fucked up reflection of myself.

ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ?

what i really love writing are moments where characters who don't know love or trust is open and vulnerable with someone. they're opening up and learning to really trust someone for the first time. they're showing the real person hidden within. the actual moment or connection doesn't matter. it could be friends, lovers, enemies, or whatever. tho i will admit that i do enjoy writing some raunchy smut from time to time.

ʜᴏᴡ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴜᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ?

a lot of them start as mundane thoughts about whatever numdane thing i might be doing in that moment. cooking, cleaning, eating, whatever. then i wonder how that character would react in that same situation. then the thoughts and what-ifs only grow in complexity and depth. or more abstract and philosophical depending on mood and development.

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ɪɴ ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴏʀ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴍᴜꜱɪᴄ?

music is an absolute no. it gets me distracted. but i also can't do silence. to i meet in this weird middle where i que up a bunch of random videos on youtube into a playlist and let it play in the background. most of it is like, reddit comps read by some soothing voice. i don't have to actually think about what i'm listening to. sometimes i'll get real lucky and listen to some deep dive into a character i'm writing and it gets the thoughts flowing.

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʟᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇᴘʟɪᴇꜱ ᴏʀ ᴡɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇᴍ?

its a little bit of both. a goal is in mind, whether its my goal or a shared goal with my partner, but its something to reach. however, the actual journey to that point doesn't matter. that gets winged to hell and back. even with a goal in mind it can and sometimes does change in the end. and i'm perfectly okay with that. i like seeing the trajectory change over time one post at a time.

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ꜱʜɪᴘᴘɪɴɢ?

very much so! both romantic and non. because shipping isn't just romance, but that deep connection between two characters. i try to not focus too much on romance, i swear. i enjoy ans strive to give my characters a variety of relationships.

ᴡʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴀʟɪᴀꜱ/ɴᴀᴍᴇ?

when i was new and young on the internet for the first and i was hot emo trash, i chose possibly one of the stupidest anime weeb ass handle i could. oni-sama666. and ever since then my nickname has been oni. the only exception is during my time playing ff14. those that know me from there first, or period, call me reno.

ᴀɢᴇ?

i might as well crumble into dust. age 31

ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ?

Sept 23rd

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴏʀ(ꜱ)?

purple, preferably lighter shades like lavender and lilac

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜱᴏɴɢ(ꜱ)?

ugh never make me choose. it changes literally every day. but a consistent favorite right now is savin' me by nickelback

ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ?

a silent voice (eiga koe no katachi / the shape of voice). shit makes me bawl like a doddamn baby every time

ʟᴀꜱᴛ ꜱʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ?

the first two episodes of x-men 97. i'm super gay for gambit in a croptop.

ʟᴀꜱᴛ ꜱᴏɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪꜱᴛᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ?

wasted on you — morgan wallen

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜰᴏᴏᴅ?

a am a slut for a good plate of spaghetti

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜱᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ?

firstly, i want to state that i live down south in the states. our winters are incredibly mild. but i'll take our winters over all three summers we have.

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ?

i'm not as close as i'd like to be. i think very highly of many people here and want nothing more than to be the weird little monkey banging symbols in their dms. but i also don't want to be annoying! my little noggin is always so full of feelings and thoughts about both my muse and about other people's muses. but its so hard getting over my nervousness.

Tagged by: tagged MYSELF

Tagging: be gay. do crime. steal it.

#; ( ooc )#; ( munday meme )#since i missed out yesterday #long post #resisting urge to always readmore my ooc posts

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chaoticgremlinwholikescheese · 3 months

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Today was my first day at the National Military Archives to research my veterans for my book. It was an incredible experience. It was holy, spiritual, I don't know how to explain it. It was just... powerful.

Here are some of the things from today that stuck out to me:

Russel Braga's item list

This stuck out to me because it was so simple. There was no military jargon. It's simply a list of what he had with him when he died. There are two ways of looking at it; in one way, this is almost cruel. He's been relegated to a list. No longer a person, only left over objects.

But to me, it didn't feel like that. Most of what I know about him is army related. This, this gave me an idea of who he was. He smoked a pipe. He wore sunglasses. He wore a watch. He had a religious medallion. Letters from family and friends.

When I read this, I started to cry. It was both out of joy, joy that I'd found information about him. But also grief. Grief for a man I'd never met, who died long before I was born. But now, I can keep him alive in some way.

This is why I do this research. Not for the military aspect; in fact, I have a deep hatred for the military industrial complex. It's for the stories. For the memories. For the people I have gotten to know.

2. Phillip Doty's death form

All the death certificates were impactful. Phillip Doty's hit even more than the others. I knew he died in a plane crash. I didn't know the exact details of his death. Reading about the burns, the way he suffered, and eventually died, struck me in the gut.

I asked my dad about the medical stuff, and the clarification helped me to understand what he went through. He suffered. I had to take a moment to process what I was reading before I could move on. These people have come to mean a lot to me. They're more than just names on paper.

3. Letters from Wagner's mother

The letters from family members asking for information about their kids were powerful. You could feel the pain, the fear, in their words. They still held out hope. But reading these now, I know the outcome. I know that the hope was in vain. I felt like an intruder. I was never meant to read these, yet I did anyway.

What struck me as well was the way the government responded. It was the same letter each time. It was from a template, the names and basic information filling in the formatted blanks. It was so bureaucratic. It made me feel angry. There was no empathy.

There is so much emotion in these letters. It's intense. Holding them in my hands, it was almost like I could feel their emotions flowing through me. They're long dead now. But their words live on.

4. Bassett's recommendation letters

Bassett was a theater nerd, just like me (and undoubtedly many of you). He even had a patent for a dolly system. Reading about his accomplishments, and how highly everyone thought of him, was a fun experience. I found myself smiling at the kind words people had written.

Bassett received multiple promotions. He was highly respected and well liked by both his commanding officers and fellow soldiers. One officer put him up for a promotion, but Bassett was refused the promotion due to him not knowing shorthand well enough yet. In my opinion, that's a stupid reason to deny a clearly qualified candidate a well deserved promotion. But, thus is the army.

I loved getting to know Bassett through these letters. I'd like to think we would have gotten along as fellow theater nerds. He was a good guy. He seems like a kind soul.

5. Their signatures

There was something so fucking incredible about seeing their signatures in person. I could trace the ink they wrote with. Their handwriting was unique, a view into who they were.

I touched a piece of paper they touched. It was a sort of connection across time. It was a powerful experience. I can't really put it into words. It was just... it pierced my soul in a beautiful way.

I don't think there's any way to explain what I've experienced today. This was one of the most important, life-changing experiences of my life. I can't put into words what it has meant to me.

In a way, I finally got to meet the people I've been researching all these years.

#I'll post more like this tomorrow #God this has been fucking amazing #I can't believe I'm getting to do this

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primewritessmut · 7 months

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2, 13, 42 [Songs for the Zombie Apocalypse], 73, and 80

2. talk about a notable time a narrative or character has looked you dead in the eyes and said “fuck your plan, here’s what we’re actually doing.”

I have tried no fewer than six times to write a fic with a tragic ending (across a few fandoms) and they ALWAYS end up as romance. I frequently joke that I am doomed by the narrative to turn everything into a romance.

Most notably, she's not going to die today had a very different ending that I was aiming for with a lot more Major Character Death than occurs in the finished fic. I like the ending, I do, but I wanted to pistol whip both of those assholes for the direction it took.

13. talk about a writing experience that has pleasantly surprised you.

Taking on a 1k per chapter writing challenge that originated with @periodically-puzzled. He writes such good, snappy chapters, character studies, and dialogue with so few words. And I've always felt a little long-winded so...

It was a huge challenge, of course, but also really fun. I think it's made me a better writer overall and it led to the one fic that shouldn't have a happy ending. 🤞 (although the ending isn't written yet, so the curse still has time to assert itself)

42. describe the aesthetic of a story in 5 words.

erotic blood soaked trauma bonding?

bleak bloody hate fueled horniness?

Got to be honest, aesthetics are not my thing. But I did my best! (Also, thank you for asking for this fic especially. It's my little demon baby.)

73. how do you visualize scenes? do you see it like a movie in your head, or do the words just flow?

I'm not a visualizer which usually surprises people. I'm the person that can only picture fuzzy darkness when I'm reading a story. Not even shadows behind frosted glass just... nothing really.

I much prefer writing to almost any other medium because words just make sense to me. They're evocative (for me) in a way that I think art is (for other people). I just like words.

When I come up with a scene or write a chapter, it's all just words and they just sort of... come out? For a writer, I'm actually terrible at describing my own process. I don't know, I write like I'm holding the words in my hands. That's what it feels like.

No visualization necessary.

80. do you try to put themes, motifs, messages, morals, etc in your writing? if so, how do you go about it?

Listen. I know I do only because people tell me that I do. The number of times a reader or fellow writer has come to me and said, "Did you know that you always [fill-in-the-blank]?" And my answer is no. Every time.

I trust fall into a story, themes and all. But I guess when you keep digging in the same spot, it makes sense that you'd keep unearthing the same kinds of things.

#ask game #i feel like such an ass answering questions about my writing process #every answer is just #i don't know how it happens #it just does #zero planning coming out of this brain

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iolite-wyvern-art · 2 years

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Worldbuilding with OCs!

I’m finally getting around to the other two ocs that @shyyren asked about!

First up is Ferrel!! As with Al’s, I’m putting most of it under Read More.

Who are they? Full name? - Ferrel Leonas Nicknames? - “Firebug” from Vlazia Gender/pronouns? - He/they, some flavor of masc nonbinary, boy but in a funky way Orientation? - Bisexual? Age/Birthday? - 19 years, Nellune 29th Fun fact! Zodiac? - (I haven’t figured out the zodiac yet, but based on his blood his is the Taurus equivalent)

What’s their personality? Major good traits? - cares deeply, energetic, determined, smart Major flaws? - extremely self-depreciating sometimes, snarky, reckless, overconfident Goals? - To professionally make his own fireworks! Fears? - deep water, people manipulating him Optimistic or pessimistic? - Learning to be more optimistic! He’s trying really hard. Introvert, extrovert, or ambivert? - More extroverted than not but maybe not 100% extrovert. Empathetic or un-empathetic? - Empathetic! Do they wait and plan or dive right in? - Jumps in head-first! Very reckless, save for when he’s working on pyrotechnics. Do they go with the flow or forge their own path? - Very head-strong and stubborn. Fun fact! Other defining traits? - He’s trying really hard to not be as self-destructive as he used to be.

Relations to the world? Who’s their family? - SalamanderDad! (The giant six-legged dragon-adjacent variety) Where are they from? - Renascence Where do they live now? - Fisint Atharon (it’s a big city on the side of a volcano) Do they have a job? If so, what is it? - Used to work fast food, currently looking for a new job How are they with technology? - Pretty good! Has set strict rules to not be too attached to tech for various reasons. The exception to this is research (which can be done at the library) and cute animals. Connections to religion or spirituality? - Follower of the Volcano God (I’m still working on a name for him). Powers or magic? - Pyrokinesis! Fun fact! Connections to the lore? - The only mutant bronze! Stayed in the caverns with Vlazia and Chkepi for a couple years when he was super little.

Favorites? Favorite season/weather? - Spring! He loves summer in theory but it’s too hot for him. Favorite place? - Rhyers’ hive, or the empty lot outside town where he works on explosives. Favorite food? - red pepper jelly and bacon sandwiches, and ginger beer floats Favorite clothes/accessories? - His scale cardigan! Favorite animal? - Dragons. And Ember Yirrant (they’re small rodents that burrow in old volcanic rock) Favorite/most frequently used mode of transportation? - Skateboard Favorite holiday? - Summer Solstice! Hobbies? - Aside from setting things on fire, he likes dragon mythology and stargazing with Rhyers Favorite thing about themself? - “+ Hoo, boy, uh. ++ I’m clever and I care about my friends!” Fun fact! Favorite [fill in the blank]? - His favorite dragon myth is one from the northern-most archipelago. An adventurer had helped a sea dragon, who proceeded to follow her and her crew and protect them from other sea monsters.

Relationships? Best friends? - Aside from Rhyers, he’s also good friends with Trenis and Rin Closest family member? - SalamanderDad lol Partner/s? - His moirail is Rhyers <> What organizations/clubs/etc are they in? - He’s in some kind of science group and one of the dnd groups. And the Volcano God church Who are their antagonists? - I dunno exactly what he did yet, but he pissed off Sakiina. Gilein also really doesn’t like him. Fun fact! What are they like with their best friend or partner? - Rhyers is the person he trusts the most and is the most open with. They’re incredibly patient with each other. They’re both still assholes but they’re also so good at helping each other.

#ask meme #answered asks #character asks #Ferrel Leonas #he’s a bitch and a mess and I love him

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maridotnet · 2 years

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12, 19 and 22 for the artist ask game please!! Btw i love your art, its so detailed and shows so much expression and emotion!!

12. show us an old drawing tada!!!! the oldest and CRUSTIEST res drawing I have on file! :)

it's a portrait of one of my oldest and dearest friends who I drew in Sunday School, and I thought it was both very ugly and also a BANG UP and BEAUTIFUL likeness. this is from c. age 9, based on the year I have it saved under

19. how often do you draw bro...SO much I can't even tell you until recently, I had a part time job that only filled a few hours a week, and I spent several weeks after class got out drawing for hours every day! (it was TERRIFIC) I've slowed down a little now, but I'm afraid I've got it bad - I get stressed and crabby when I don't have anything to draw on, and every time I go somewhere I anticipate having free time, I'll pack my smallish day-to-day sketchbook. (here's all the shoes I drew in church today)

When I don't get to draw for a while, I start feeling a little like Harriet the Spy after her notebook is taken away- “She didn't care anymore… and she got no pleasure from the work she did, but she did it. Everything bored her. She found that when she didn't have a notebook it was hard for her to think. The thoughts came slowly, as though they had to squeeze through a tiny door to get to her, whereas when she wrote, they flowed out faster than she could put them down. She sat very stupidly with a blank mind until finall 'I feel different' came slowly to her mind. Yes, she thought, after a long pause. And then, after more time, 'Mean, I feel mean.” I have a DEPENDENCY, I tell you

22. what inspires you

idk bro I guess love!! you can always tell what friends and people are on my mind by who appears in the margins of my notes. I draw the things that make me go "ping!" y'know? flowers, faces, characters, hairstyles. you can look through my old sketchbooks and homework doodles and know who I was crushing on or dating because there are so many drawings of them! there's also a smaller inspiration - well, more like motivation, that's my anxious side telling me I NEED to get better or I'll fall behind (?? who???) and that pushes me to improve as well lol.

thanks so much for the ask, and thank you even more for your kind words about my art!!!!!! :)))) i LOVE art and I LOVE my drawings and it makes me SO happy when other people also like them and want to hear more about them :))))

link to ask game

#viv talks #anonymous #mari.net art

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ryanmeft · 6 months

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Assassin's Creed Locations Ranked Part 4

After a bit of a hiatus so I could work on my book and write movie reviews, we're back with part 4 of my list ranking every playable location in the Assassin's Creed series. As a refresher, a playable location is an area you can freely traverse and explore for secrets and missions, so places like Portugal in Rogue and the hidden tombs in II don't count. This entry covers some great historical and mythological locations that didn't quiiiiite make the top ten. We'll cover the top ten next time, so stay tuned to see which of those ten ended up where, and to get incredibly angry at me when your favorite isn't where you wanted it to be. Fun times! Here are the links to the previous three parts. Now, let's get moving. Part 3: https://ryanmeft.tumblr.com/post/731083916756336640/assassins-creed-locations-ranked-part-3

Part 2

Part 1

Atlantis (Odyssey: The Fate of Atlantis)

Odyssey’s Fate of Atlantis DLC had three chapters in three different places from Greek myth, but ever since our first tantalizing glimpse in a sidequest, visiting the fabled city itself was the big draw. It didn’t disappoint. Not only was the self-contained story pretty good, but Atlantis was successfully brought back closer to Plato’s description of concentric circles and military culture. There were both towering spires and underground secrets, and intrepid explorers could even carry themselves out from the artificial metro area to the more natural borders of the land. Atlantis promised a lot, and delivered on it.

Rome (Brotherhood)

A lot of people were probably kind of puzzled at the fact that, aside from a brief mission at the Vatican, we never visited Rome itself during Assassin’s Creed II. If you happen to also be my particular kind of crazy, you may know that the Renaissance was driven by the other cities in Italy, while any part of Rome not directly under church control had long since degenerated into a disease-ridden backwater virtually irrelevant to world progress. Brotherhood captures exactly that. This Rome is a dim shadow of the capitol of the ancient Empire, consisting almost entirely of wasted ruins of once-great temples, shabby houses, and pushy merchants hawking their wares. It’s not without some remnants of grandeur, but it evokes more sadness for a lost era than anything else. And naturally, the hidden tombs are still the highlights.

Elysium (Odyssey: The Fate of Atlantis)

The first of three areas you’ll visit in this episodic DLC, Elysium is, like Aaru, an idealized, paradisaical version of ancient Greece, with flowing fields of flowers uninterrupted by man and sparkling, wide rivers circling around the feet of towering clifftop cities where gods and accomplished mortals drink and feast in idyllic surroundings. Ok, I may be exaggerating that last bit, as the game doesn’t render the inhabitants of paradise in any real way---no Piece of Eden-induced apparitions of Hercules or Odysseus will be found here. Elysium so thoroughly evokes heavenly bliss, though, that it’s not hard to let your imagination fill in the blanks. In some ways, it’s even better than the normal Greece of the main game, because it’s contained enough that it never outstays its welcome.

Paris (Unity)

Due to being borderline unplayable at launch, Unity remains a divisive entry in the series, but there’s one thing practically everyone can agree on: revolutionary Paris is jumpin’, man. Moving up a generation, Ubisoft Montreal took full advantage of the extra horsepower to massively increase crowd sizes and behaviors, the scope of the environment, and to render famous landmarks in exquisite detail. Paris is a place where the revered meets the depraved, from the towering spires of Notre Dame to seedy-but-lively cafes to grisly murders in dark alleys, all set to the backdrop of a violent revolution. The great accomplishment of Unity’s Paris is that the city is an ancient place with a life apart from the famous events of the late 18th century.

Ireland (Valhalla: Wrath of the Druids)

Much like how it is an extreme disappointment to see the fertile history of China’s Warring States Period relegated to a B-list mobile game, it was also a bit of a sting when we realized the only Ireland we were likely to get from the series was this DLC. Still, the Emerald Isle got a better shake than China likely will. Mechanically, there’s no differences in exploration or traversal, but the famously greener pastures, the shadowed, rocky paths that feature in so much Irish folklore, and the renowned passage tombs successfully make it feel like you’re in a new place. The story is even interesting, which is quite frankly more than you can say for most of the open world game DLCs. Still, if we never return to Erin for the more dramatic later periods in its history, it’ll be a shame.

And that's it for this entry! Come back next time to see which games shook out where in the top ten, and remember to please share my blogs if you like them.

#assassin's creed #video games #ireland #france #paris #greece #italy #rome #ubisoft #stabbity stab stab

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dailyadventureprompts · 2 years

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How do you make so many of these so consistently? Do you have a patreon?

Drafting the Adventure: My Process

I was jokingly going to leave this blank because writers block be like that sometimes, but then I realized the question of consistency in writing is actually something a lot of DMs and other creators who follow this blog can benefit from. Appeals to utility have always been the way to get me to do anything, so lets crack in and see what people can learn from the messy inner workings of my process.

Step 1: Inspiration

While I often describe my work as “writing down stories inspired by cool fantasy art”, my process actually begins long before I sit down at my desk to actually write anything. Though trial and error I’ve determined that I’m at my creative best when my brain is swimming in stories, even if they have 0 relevance to what I’m going to write about. I’ve almost always got an audiobook or podcast on while I’m doing mundane life upkeep, and I keep a phone note app or actual notebook within easy access at all times. These last two are essential, as sometimes an idea or story snippet will come to me and then linger around for years, just waiting for some other concept to magnetize to and create something amazing. Every time I get a quarter of a way through a notebook, I transpose the content to a google dock, that way I can have easy access to anything I’ve written down over the ages.

Step 2: Subject Matter

Choosing the right image is an artform in and of itself, as you need something with enough thematic richness to communicate an idea, while at the same time being vague enough to be flexible, in case I have a particular idea in need of an image. Early on I also made the mistake of just collecting images in my drafts folder, leading to a several thousand image backlog that I had to sift through whenever I knew there was ONE PARTICULAR image I wanted to use for a thing. I’ve since rectified my mistake and keep a separate blog specifically for art, which I can specifically tag to search through easier. I also use the “post to tumblr” browser extension to make image acquisition just that much speedier.

Step 3: Story Seeds

After I’ve got my subject in front of me, I study the image to generate a few base ideas: what’s the mood? the vibe? the unstated tension? where would this image fit in a larger story? these things provide the raw material for my writing and help me fill out details that I never would have dreamed of. I also figure out if any of my several years worth of idea backlog would fit into this in any way, and if changing a detail or two could massage a previously good idea into a great one with accompanying art.

Step 4: Gamifying

This is a d&d blog after all, so once the story starts to take shape, I start thinking about how I can turn these narratives into actual adventures. Is there a dungeon involved? a dare to test the party’s skills? maybe a mercantile opportunity to take a gamble on? The best adventure formulation is about dangling a reward out of the party’s current reach, then figuring out what challenges, twists, and pitfalls they’ll need to navigate to get there, while simultaneously setting them up to go on another adventure with a different reward after they’ve achieved the first.

Step 5: Actually writing.

Putting actual words on the page is perhaps my biggest hurdle, both because I suffer from chronic brainfog and because life can so often be too hectic to write. I’ve found that making a habit of writing ( every day for half an hour while I'm having my morning tea) is enough to generally get past my initial hurdle. I triage my projects, focusing on small light ideas when I don’t have the energy saving the big ones that’ll require a lot of work for good writing days or bitesized chunks. Some sessions are about limping along with as much as you can manage, while others are about riding that flow wave and getting as much done as you can. As for making that writing good, I’ve got a whole tag full of different ways to improve your adventure writing, so give it a read and take what you need.

As for a Patreon, I do indeed have one https://www.patreon.com/Villain4hire, and a ko-fi at https://ko-fi.com/villainforhire. I'll admit, I've left both of them on the backburner for quite some time both because I had life stuff ( moving etc) and because my ever looming podcast project would necessitate an overhaul of both.

#drafting an adventure #D&D #D&D adventure #Homebrew Adventure #Adventure #DnD #dm tips #dm advice #dm tools #Dungeons and Dragons #prompt postage #writing advice #it's a process

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serendipitous-magic · 3 years

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What is your writing advice for young people who want to write fanfiction and original stories in the near future?

If this is just Way Too Much, skip to the end (#16). My most important piece of advice is there. I also happen to think #5 is pretty good.

-_-_-_-

1) Literally just write. Write whatever you want, and do a lot of it.

_-_

2) You don’t have to post everything. In fact you don’t have to post anything. You can, don’t get me wrong, but it can be intimidating to sit down and think “I will now write something that other people will see and read and judge with their eyeballs.” Because that’s probably gonna lead to nerves and writer's block. Just write down the ideas that you have, the things you want to write, whatever’s in your brain that you want to explore and expand upon and make into something. And then if you want to, share it. Or don’t share it. I have plenty of half-baked ideas and documents and random story chapters and shit hidden away on my Google Drive that will never see the light of day, for a whole number of reasons. I wanted to write it but it wasn’t ~Spicy~ enough to warrant posting, or it’s only like an eighth of a good idea, or it’s like one scene with no story around it, or it’s just something incredibly self-indulgent I just wanted to write for my own enjoyment.

Point being, don’t write for other people. Don’t write so that other people can read it; write what you want, write for yourself, and then if you want to share it, do.

_-_

3) You can pretty much ignore any and all of these for fanfiction. In fact, you can ignore pretty much any rules or guidelines you want for fanfiction. Fanfic is a sandbox. You don’t have to be a “professional writer” to post fic. No one expects you to be Stephen King or Margaret Atwood. Fanfic is just for playing in a fandom and having fun. If you wanna write a 50 chapter slow burn with very little plot aside from the OTP slowly getting to know each other, and no real stakes or central conflict, I guarantee people would read that. Really, fanfiction is the Old West of writing: lawless, wild, unpredictable, and free.

However, here are the rules you must follow:

-Separate your paragraphs. (I’m sure you know this already, but I’m gonna say it anyway just in case.) Do not post one big block of text. Make a paragraph break when someone new is talking, when the characters are in a new place, when a new event occurs that changes the scene, when a chunk of time has passed, and when there’s a major change in subject.

-I know it’s obvious, but... grammar, punctuation, and capitalization. They exist to make writing easy for readers to read, and more people will read your stuff if they don’t have to stop and try to figure out what you meant.

-Use tags and labels, as is possible with whatever site you’re using. Especially if you include possibly triggering content in your story. Again, I know it’s obvious, but it’s common courtesy. Bonus: tagging the themes and content of your story helps readers find it and read it :)

-If possible, limit the use of all-caps and exclamation marks / question marks. 99% of the time, one ! or one ? will do. If you overload the page with a lot of all-caps and long rows of exclamation marks or question marks, it hampers readability.

... That’s literally all I can think of. And, like I said, it’s all pretty basic stuff. You were probably rolling your eyes like, “Uh, yeah, Gwen, I know.” But that’s literally it. You can pretty much do whatever you want in fanfic.

That being said, here’s my advice for both fanfiction and original work...

_-_

4) A quick and dirty rule for coming up with a plot, starting a story, keeping up pacing, or maintaining tension: figure out what dreams, desires, and goals are nearest and dearest to your main character’s heart (see #16). Then set up the main conflict to be directly in opposition to that goal. It doesn’t have to be in a tangible way, though it could be. But, if your main character wants more than anything to reach the ships on the southern coast of your world and sail to a new life, make sure the main conflict immediately prevents them from doing that - in fact, make sure to send them north. If your main character just wants to keep their loved ones safe, kidnap the loved ones. If your main character just wants to date their best-friend-turned-crush, make sure they think they have no chance - or, make them cocky about it, and make sure it makes Person B determined not to ever like them. You get it. Figure out what your character most wants, and then keep them from having that. Boom - your conflict now ties in with your character's motivation. It's like instant yeast for plots.

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5) If you’re anything like me, you want your first draft to be Good, despite all that advice about how the first draft doesn’t have to be good and it’s just to get words on the page, yadda yadda. And if you’re somewhat of a perfectionist (like myself), it’s easy to get stuck looking at a blank page because you don’t have The Perfect Words, and you want what you write to be Good the first time.

Here’s how I cheat that:

Instead of trying to write a Good First Draft from a blank page, hit the enter key a few times, skip a little down on the page, change your ink to red (or blue, or whatever - just something immediately identifiable as Not Black) and just thought vomit. Write whatever the hell you’re thinking, exactly as you think it. Don’t worry about it being readable, don’t worry about narrative flow for now, don’t worry about covering all the details, don’t worry about anything except either a) getting all the details of your idea out onto the page, whether that’s a lot or whether it’s just a sentence or two, or b) if you don’t have an idea yet, finding your way there.

Because this method is also very good for finding your way to ideas when you’re stuck in writer’s block.

Because of how human brains work, getting this stuff out onto the page - in all its messy, stream-of-consciousness glory - will likely spark more thoughts. As you write your original idea about the scene, it’ll likely spark more ideas. Creation begets creation. If you just start thought-vomiting your ideas onto the page, chances are you’ll think of more things as you go, and you’ll start filling out description or dialogue or tone or action or whatever, and pretty soon the scene starts writing itself.

Not sure where you’re going with the scene or which ideas you wanna use? Use a lot of ambivalent language in your “thought-vomit draft.” My pre-writing notes are chock-full of the words “maybe,” “perhaps,” and the phrases, “At some point...” and “...or something like that.” In this way, I don’t tie myself down to one idea; it’s just an idea, and I’m keeping it on the page in case I use it, but I might chuck it in the trash or change it or whatever.

And then, once your ideas for the scene (or story, or chapter, or whatever) are on the page, then go back to the top and start translating them into a “real” first draft. Use black ink, and start copy-pasting chunks of the thought-vomit up into the top part of the document and translating them into Draft 1. Separate out paragraphs where paragraph breaks should be. Add the correct punctuation and whatnot. Change “describe the lobby here - include potted plants, fancy carpet, blood stain, etc.” into an actual description of the lobby. Flesh it out, or condense, or whatever it needs. And if you’re still stuck, change back to red ink and ramble some more until you find a path that feels right, then plug that in. This keeps you from looking at a blank page, and it allows you to generate a kind of Draft 0.5, somewhere between a plan and a first draft.

You don’t have to use every idea. Like I said, jot down whatever comes to mind, put a “maybe” before or after it, and keep working. If the idea grabs you and you wanna keep expanding on it and exploring it, cool. If you just wanna jot it down so you don’t forget it and then move on, also cool. Red-ink draft / “thought-vomit draft” is your time to jump around in the timeline, add or finesse details at whatever point your brain moves to, etc. Don’t try to do it exactly in story order, because you will get tangential thoughts and ideas, and you will not remember to write them down five pages later when you finally get to taking notes on that scene. Trust me. On that note...

_-_

6) Write everything down the moment you think of it. Seriously.

“I’ll remember it when I get around to writing that scene in a couple days / weeks / months (/years).”

You won’t.

Write it down.

Phone, journal, google docs - hell, my family regularly laughs at me for grabbing a napkin during dinner and scribbling thoughts down alongside pasta sauce stains.

And then, once you have it written down somewhere...

_-_

7) Consolidate your writing ideas in one place.

Maybe this isn’t really your style, and that’s totally chill.

Buuuut, if you’re Type-A like me - or if you tend to be somewhat unorganized and you know you’ll lose track of your writing notes if they’re scattered across multiple notebooks, journals, napkins, phone notes, etc. - having one consolidated document of notes is a life saver. I keep mine on Google Docs so I can access it, add to it, and look through it for inspiration anywhere at any time. When I have one of those Shower Thoughts that I jot down on my phone or on a napkin during dinner, I set myself a reminder on my phone to type it up in my Story Ideas document later.

(Or, if the idea I had was for a story of mine that I’ve already started planning / drafting / whatever, I put it in the document for that story instead of the Big Random Story Ideas doc. You get it.)

_-_

8) Have other ways to collect and save writing ideas, besides just writing stuff down. If you like Pinterest, make pinterest boards of your characters or stories or settings or whatever. If you’re big into playlists, make a playlist for your character / setting / story / etc. Or both. Or something else. I’m not good at drawing, but maybe you are, and maybe you like to draw your ideas. Whatever form it takes, having another way to save ideas and think about your stories is invaluable.

_-_

9) Some writers can just start writing with no idea where the story is going, and they just kind of figure it out as they go. I envy those writers. And I do that sometimes for fanfiction, where the stakes are somewhat lower and the audience is reading more for scene-to-scene enjoyment (and to see their OTP kiss) than for a Driving And Compelling Narrative.

But here’s the thing: especially if you’re just kind of starting out, writing without some sort of plan is really, really hard, and will likely lead you into a slow, meandering narrative that will likely frustrate you.

Even if you think you’re someone that just can’t write with a plan (and again, I have the highest respect for pansters out there - I don’t know how you do it, you crazy bastards, but you keep doing you) - even if you think “I can’t work with plans, they’re too prescriptive, I just want to write and see what happens -”

Try at least making the most skeletal of plans.

Even if you have no clue what 90% of the story is, yet. That’s fine. But you need to have some idea of what you’re building to, even if that’s nothing more specific than a feeling, or a turning point for your character. Even if your entire plan for everything beyond Chapter 1 is, “At some point, Charlie needs to realize that Ed was lying to her.”

This is where those Draft 0.5 notes come in handy. Because, more than likely, working on your current scene that way will spark ideas for later scenes, which you can put down at the bottom of the document and save for when they become relevant. In my experience, the line between planning ahead and making a Draft 0.5 is exceptionally thin. One can quickly turn into the other.

If you’re really, really resistant to the idea of planning ahead, that’s okay. It’s not everybody’s style. But for the love of all that is holy, write down your ideas for future scenes, even if you’re a person that doesn’t like to plan and writes only in story order, because you will not remember that idea once you get to that scene.

_-_

10) You don’t have to write in order.

Here’s the thing: I’m a person that can only do my Draft 1 in story order (meaning, chronological order). I just have to be in that flow; I need to write in story order for me to best channel where the character is at from scene to scene, both narratively and emotionally.

But my Thought Vomit Draft is another thing entirely. By using the brain hack of putting my notes in red (or another color, it doesn’t matter) and going down to the bottom of the document / page and taking notes there, and then integrating them into whatever plan I have, and then translating them into Draft 1 once I get there in the story - by doing that, I can get my good ideas onto the page (and expound upon them and let my muse carry me and ride that momentum while I’m in the moment of inspiration) without writing out of order.

Maybe that’s just me. But if you’re a person who really prefers to write in story order, that could be hugely helpful to you. It is to me.

_-_

11) Emotion and motivation will do more for your story than technicalities of plot.

If your characters really care about something, and their journey through the (shaky or weak) plot is emotionally engaging, it will be a much more compelling story than a story with a “perfect” plot and unrelatable or unmotivated characters.

If your characters care about what they’re doing, and it means something to them, and their goals and actions are driven by dreams or fears or emotions that are integral to who they are, your audience will care too. If you have a perfectly crafted plot that hits all the right beats and has high stakes and fast pacing and drama - but your characters don’t connect with what’s happening in a way that’s deeply meaningful or emotional for them? You’re gonna have a hard time engaging readers.

When in doubt, prioritize character emotion and motivation over plot. Emotion is what drives story.

This power is highly exploitable. (Just look at pulp novels and shitty but entertaining movies.) You can even use it to glaze over plot holes or reinvigorate a limp narrative. Use it that way sparingly, though. It’s a band-aid, not a surgery.

_-_

12) Evil villains are hard to write - mostly because there are very few truly evil people in the world. (There are a few. Billionaires and several big name politicians come to mind.) But by and large, there aren’t that many evil people. There are plenty of bad people, but bad people have some good in them, somewhere in there. Trying to write an evil villain is hard, because they often turn very cartoony.

Here’s a tip: it’s much easier to write antagonists who aren’t evil. Even if they’re bad people. Of course, there’s no reason you can’t write a villain that’s just truly evil - a serial killer, or an abuser, or a billionaire, or someone who legit just wants to hurt people or blow up the earth or stay in control of an oppressed population, or whatever. But chances are, it’s gonna be really hard to make them feel real, and even harder to create a plot around them that doesn’t feel forced or contrived.

Instead, try writing an antagonist / villain whose motivations and goals directly clash with your protagonist’s - but not because they want to take over the world or see people suffer. Write an antagonist who’s chaotic good, but whose perception of the situation is completely opposite from your hero’s. Write an antagonist whose only desire is to save people, and who will do anything to achieve that goal - anything. Write an antagonist who believes in the letter of the law, and will hinder and oppose the hero’s methods even if they agree with the hero’s motivation. Write an antagonist who got in way over their head and did some things they regret, and now they don’t know how to get out, and they’re doing their best but whatever they set in motion is too powerful for them to stop now.

Write villains who are human. Write a killer who thought they were doing the right thing by taking their victim out of the equation, who vomits at the sight of the body and sobs over the grave they dig. Write a government leader who truly believes she’s doing what’s best for her people in the long-term, even if it might hurt them in the short term, and is willing to endure the hatred and belligerence of the masses if it means securing what she thinks is a better future for her people. Write a teenage bully that thinks they’re the one being picked on by the world, and they’re just fighting back, standing their ground. Write a scientist who will break any code of ethics and hurt anyone he needs to - in order to bring back his baby sister from the grave, because he promised her he’d protect her and he failed. Write an antagonist who is selfish and self-centered and capricious - because in order to survive they had to look out for Number One, and that habit ain’t about to break anytime soon.

Write villains who aren’t even villains. Write antagonists who oppose the hero because of moral differences. Write antagonists who are trying to do the right thing. Write antagonists who treat the heroes with kindness and dignity and respect and gentleness.

They don’t have to be good. They don’t have to be Misunderstood Sweethearts who “deserve” a redemption arc. They can be cruel and nasty and dismissive and callous and violent and etc. etc.

Just hesitate before you make them Evil-with-a-capital-E. Because evil is hard to write, and honestly, boring to read. Flawed human beings with goals and motivations that directly oppose the main characters’ are much easier to write and much more interesting to read.

Ask why. Why is your villain trying to take over the world? What does that even mean? Are they trying to create a Star-Trek-like post-capitalism utopia, but they know that won’t happen in a million lifetimes, so they’re trying to do it by force? Are they actually super in favor of human rights, but they got very impatient waiting for the world to do anything about poverty and war, so they decided to take it into their own hands? Are they determined to fix the world - no matter the cost? Are they terrified and overwhelmed, but committed to see it through to the end? Or - maybe they’re just doing it on a dare. Maybe they don’t really give a shit about world domination, they were just a mediocre rich white guy who decided to fuck around and find out, and now he’s kind of curious how far he can take this thing. And now he’s kind of an internationally-wanted criminal, so he’s kind of stuck living on his hidden private island in his multi-billion dollar secret base, strapping lasers to sharks’ heads for the hell of it. Gross, selfish, uncaring, and dangerous? For sure. Evil? Depends on your definition. See, now we’re getting somewhere.

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13) It’s tempting to let the plot control the characters. It’s easy to drop your characters into a situation and see how they react. But here’s the thing: that doesn’t drive plot. In fact, it bogs down pacing. Instead, try to build you plot off of your characters’ actions and decisions. Let your character build their own situation. Not to say it should go they way they wanted it to go; in fact, usually, their grand plans should go to hell very quickly. But having the characters take action and make decisions, and letting the plot develop based on that, is much easier to make compelling than making a rigid series of events and then trying to herd your characters into them.

_-_

14) Having trouble justifying a character’s actions? Consider having them make the opposite decision, or having them approach the situation in a different way. For example: you need your character to go meet the bad guy, for plot reasons, even though there’s no way it’s not a trap. If the character goes, readers are gonna be groaning with their head in their hands, because c’mon man, that was really fucking stupid. But he’s gotta go, because the plot needs that. Two ways you might handle this: a) He knows it’s probably a trap. He decides not to go. The plot conspires to get him near the villain anyway. Or, b) He knows it’s a trap. But he needs to go, for (insert reasons here). So, he approaches it in an unexpected way. He brings backup, recruiting a side character we met earlier in the story. Or he arrives on the back of a dragon, because ain’t nobody gonna fuck with a dude on a dragon. Or he goes - early, and ambushes the villain. It may work, it may not. He may get himself kidnapped anyway. But it moves the plot along without having Stupid Hero Syndrome.

_-_

15) This is a legit piece of advice: if all of this sounds overwhelming, literally just ignore it and write what you want. For real. Writing should be fun, and every single writer operates differently. If you’re sitting here like “I’m getting stressed just reading this,” just flip me a good-natured bird and get on with your life. I promise I won’t take it personally. Same goes for literally any other writing advice you see. Lots of rules and guidelines can very quickly make anything thoroughly un-fun. Just write. If you’re passionate about it and you do it for long enough, you’ll start figuring out the tips and tricks on your own.

_-_

16) Here’s the best piece of advice I can give you: know your characters. More importantly, know what’s important to them. Build their personality and decisions off of that, and build your plot off of their decisions.

I see a lot of character building sheets that ask a shit-ton of questions like “What’s their most prized possession?” “Do they like their family?” “What’s their favorite food?”

And while these are good questions, my problem with this type of character building is that if you start there, with the little stuff, you’re building on nothing. IMO, to make a truly strong character (not strong like Inner Strength, strong like effective), you need a strong foundation.

Here are the things you must know about your character:

a) What are their greatest fears / deepest insecurities? And I don’t mean “wasps” or “heights.” I mean the deep shit. I mean fears like “living a meaningless life,” or “turning out just like their parents,” or “that no one will ever love them,” or “being powerless.” You may say, “But they’re really scared of wasps! They fall into a wasp nest when they were little and got stung so much they almost died!” Great! That’s a fantastic bit of backstory. They should absolutely be afraid of wasps, and that should absolutely be an impediment later in the story. But dig deeper. What about that event actually scarred them? Was it the helplessness? Stumbling around, swatting at the air, not being able to do a single thing to stop what was happening to them? Was it that they were alone, and no matter how loud they screamed, no one was coming? Was it the bodily horror of feeling themself turn into an inhuman creature as they swelled up from the stings, unable to move their fingers or face normally anymore?

And don’t forget insecurities, because those factor in, too. Are they deeply insecure about their identity? Do they believe, deep down, that they’re ugly? Did they grow up poor and they’ve always been really touchy about that? Why? Dig deep. Figure out what really, really bothers them.

b) What are their hopes and dreams? What do they truly want out of life? What do they consider the most valuable to their experience here in this thing called life? Is it the freedom to forge their own path and be independent? Is it the approval of their family or peers? Is it a home? Is it knowledge, or understanding? Spiritual fulfillment? Is it deeply important to them that they contribute to their community, or protect those they love? What do they need in order to feel truly and deeply fulfilled in life?

Figure out those two things (each one encompasses several things, btw, you don’t have to stop at just one for each), and then use that to inform how they behave and the types of decisions they make within the story.

It also informs character behavior and personality.

Let’s say we have a character who’s afraid of helplessness. They’re probably gonna be the person that always wants to do something, try something, no matter how hopeless the situation seems. They’d despise just sitting and waiting, probably, because it makes them feel powerless. They might even be the person that makes rash decisions and acts impulsively and puts themself in danger unnecessarily, because in their mind it’s better than being at the mercy of fate. This is one way you could use a character’s personality to inform their decisions, which in turn helps to inform plot.

Or, let’s say we have a character whose greatest fear is being left behind or forgotten. We may have a chatterbox on our hands. They might be obnoxious. They might love the spotlight, constantly vying for attention no matter the situation, because deep down they’re so afraid that they’d be forgotten otherwise. Or, it may go the opposite way. They may be so afraid of people leaving them that they’re terrified of bothering people. They don’t want to do anything that could annoy people, anything that might give people a reason to leave them. They might be exceedingly polite, quiet, accommodating. A push-over, really.

These are two nearly opposite types of personalities, both stemming from the same core fear/insecurity. You can go a lot of different ways with it. But if you build on that strong foundation, you’ll have a strong character, and a stronger plot.

Likewise, the structure of your story can and should inform the design of these character traits. If you need your characters to team up near the end, it may be impactful if you give your main character a deep fear of commitment, an insecurity about being unwanted or left behind, and make them highly value independence and freedom. That could make their team-up for the final battle very meaningful. Conversely, you can use your character’s deepest fears and desires to help design the plot. Is your character deeply insecure about voicing their opinions or taking a stand, because of trauma they faced in the past? Make them face that. Build that into the climactic third act. Give them the big inspirational speech where they stand up and talk about what they believe to be important, what they think the group should do. And then design that character arc to run through the story, giving you more handholds and stepping stones, more pieces of foundation on which to design the plot.

In this way, character should inform story as much as story informs character. It’s a feedback loop.

Bonus: if you build your character and your plot off of each other in this way, it automatically starts to build in the foundations of that emotional investment I mentioned earlier. If your character’s decisions are based on what they most want and do not want in life, you basically have your character motivation and stakes pre-built.

Note: you need to know these things about your villain, too.

-_-_-

I’m genuinely sorry about the length of this, lmao. But you did ask.

Best of luck!

Edit: I forgot an important one:

17) Start when the scene starts and end when the scene ends.

What do I mean by that?

If your notes say “Danny asks Nicole out after school and majorly flubs it,” start the scene when Danny approaches Nicole after school. Better yet, cold-open the scene on “I was wondering if, you know, you’d wanna. You know. Hang out some time?”

Don’t start that morning when Danny goes to school, unless you’re gonna cover the school day in like one or two sentences. Don’t spend whole paragraphs going through the school day, unless it’s to cover other plot points first (in which case apply these same guidelines there), or if the paragraphs are there for a specific reason, like to illustrate how stressed he is and how it seems like every little thing is going wrong. Even then, trim the fat as much as possible. Expounding and describing everything Moment-to-moment is for the meat of the scenes, not the leading-up-to and coming-away-from.

Here’s my rule of thumb: study how and when movies cut from scene to scene. Movies have exceptionally strict, limited time for storytelling; they’re excellent examples of starting a scene when the plot point starts and ending when it’s over. If you can’t picture a movie showing everything you showed, start the scene later and end it earlier.

#asks #anon #writing advice #writing tips #writing #fanfic writing #fanfiction #character creation #plot development #character development #my advice #original writing

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dysfunctionalcrab · 3 years

Text

cute vets, pets, and boys

Pairing: Quackity x reader

Pronouns: Gender neutral

Description: Tiger needs to go to vets. Over there, his owner meets a cute veterinary assistant (yes, I mean you)

Notes: Doctor Anderson is the name of an actual doctor I shadowed I couldn’t think of anything else okay, leave me alone.

His knee bounced up and down impatiently. The place was unusually packed today.

Tiger sat in his basket, loafed and with his eyes closed. Quackity’s heart ached for the small cat, the poor animal had stopped his regular eating habits. When he filled his bowl, it was only half finished, which was abnormal, since Tiger was usually finished within 10 minutes, and then meowed for some more.

He glanced at the clock, sighing after calculating that he had been been waiting for almost a whole hour, until a vaguely familiar man walked into the room with a clipboard. He was a middle aged man, grey hair and and stubble. He wore giant glasses with black frames. It was only when Quackity’s eyes landed on the name tag pinned to the pocket of his white lab coat, did he realise this was their regular vet.

“Alex!” He called out, looking up from his clipboard and locking eyes with him

Tiger hadn’t been to vet in ages, and when he did, it was usually his mom who took him, so to see him so enthusiastic, or even remember his name, startled him quite a bit.

He stood up, clutching the handle of the cat basket and lifting it off the floor.

“Doctor Anderson?” He tried to play it off as if he wasn’t reading his badge to remember his name.

“How have you been?” The doctor asked him.

“I’ve been good, busy, but good,”

“How are you? How is your mom?”

Quackity tried to be polite, answering all the questions he had. But in reality, he didn’t care about catching up with his vet, especially after waiting an hour of waiting just to even be spoken to while his cat sat miserably in his basket. It had entirely ruined his mood. He just wanted to know what was wrong with his cat.

He was relieved when Doctor Anderson finally ushered him into the room.

The doctor walked in with another man, he looked young. This man was going to be the final patient you assist before finally finishing the veterinary experience course. You took a deep breath and approached them both.

The other guy looked you, not in a weird way, but just to curious to who you were. You offered him a kind smile, and when you started to think wasnt going to, he returned it. Doctor Anderson watched the interaction from across the room.

“This is [Y/N],” he introduced, putting a gentle hand behind your back. “They’ve been shadowing me for the last 2 months, today is their final day,”

Quackity nodded, glancing towards you again, but less soft. Your smile dropped. You started to assume he wasn’t in a good mood today, especially since he probably had a sick animal with you. So, you resorted to standing in the corner of the room, just to observe.

“So then, how can I help you?” The doctor asked him

“I don’t know,” You watched him as he distressedly pushed his hair away, alongside fiddling and adjusting his beanie anxiously. “Tiger just hasn’t been eating lately and it’s been worrying me,”

Doctor Anderson opened up the basket and took out a small tabby cat who you now knew was named ‘Tiger’. Your heart awed at the cat, you loved cats. I mean, you loved animals in general, which was the reason you wanted to help them.

You watched as he started to check the cat, feeling his fur and his body for any irregularities. His face was fully focused, eyebrows furrowing. You could tell the owner was nervous since he was rubbing the seam of his shirt aggressively between his finger and thumb.

“Has Tiger ever-“

The door suddenly swung open with a loud creak. All your heads snapped towards the entrance, another doctor stood there, her face a little sweaty and she was huffing, completely out of breath

“Doctor- we need you please, it’s urgent,” She stated.

The doctor looked at you, and then looked at the cat, and then looked back at you. You felt yourself freeze in fear. You knew what he was asking, and you frantically shook your head, pleading with your eyes that he didn’t leave you alone.

“You’ll be fine,” he whispered, before taking off and dashing out the room,‘following the tinder woman. He accidentally slammed the door a little hard that the noise startled Tiger. He let out a small and scared meow.

You pursed your lips, looking down sympathetically at the cat. You then looked at his owner, he was giving you a blank, expressionless stare, his brown eyes told you he was a mixture of tired, irritated but concerned. You wondered how long he’d been waiting.

Quackity was nervous around pretty people, he was far from confident. After the way you smiled at him, he felt himself heat up. He’d be lying he if he said he didn’t find you cute.

If you weren’t in such a formal environment, he’d be initiating some sort of casual conversation with you to start things going, if he even knew how to. But now, especially since he had a sick cat with him, wasn’t the ideal situation. Your voice interrupted his train of thoughts.

“So,” you gnawed at your lip nervously. “He’s lost his appetite?

Quackity nodded slowly.

You hummed, observing her on the table. He was a cute little cat, his eyes were glossy and wide. You felt a pain in your chest at the poor thing. You had never been left alone with a patient before, so you were anxious to say the least.

“Has this ever happened before?” You asked

He shook his head. “Uh- no. No it hasn’t.”

You stroked her, he immediately nuzzled into your palm. You and him both locked eyes at the adorable moment.

“He’s cute,” You stated.

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “He is.”

He picked up a mental note of your interaction with him. It was uncommon that Tiger relaxed at someone’s touch so easily, usually he would do that at-least within a week of knowing or playing with them. He was also quite aggressive, living up to his name.

“You don’t need to worry, you know, I’m sure he’s fine, the worst it could be is like- kidney disease or something,”

His eyes widened

“Not that it is!” You took back, wishing you could swallow your words back up again. “I didn’t mean it like that, I was just saying that he could-“

He raised an eyebrow at you, this time out of confusion of your rambling.

“I’ll stop talking now.” You muttered to yourself

You felt ridiculous, being so nervous. You couldn’t tell if it was from the pressure, or the fact he had a strong gaze on you.

“I’m going to check his teeth, if that’s okay?” You asked

Quackity stepped back abit from the table. “Yeah, yeah, of course, do whatever you need,”

You patted her head before positioning her so you could look at her mouth. You gently held her head and used your fingers carefully to pull her jaw open. It all looked pretty normal, until your eye fixated on one of her canines that were looking black at the root.

You sighed, observing it a little longer. You smiled, thankful that you found the problem. It was funny to you how this guy hadn’t even thought to check her mouth before-hand.

“Well, we’ve found the problem,” you said. Quackity stepped closer and watched to where you finger was pointing. “Just a bad tooth, it most likely hurts when he eats,”

You smiled at him reassuringly and he relaxed. His Tiger was going to be just fine

“So now what?” Quackity asked you, petting Tiger. He quietly purred

You ran your tongue at the seam of your lips. “I don’t know, I guess. I don’t think if it’s legally permissible for me to diagnose anything or 8 anything- I think,” you spoke awkwardly. “It’s better to just wait for the doctor to come back,”

He nodded again. The silence in the room was making it a little uncomfortable for the both of you, the only thing making it less... weird, was the cute little cat laying on the table.

“So, how long have you been shadowing him again?”

You bit the inside of your cheek, he was clearly just trying to make conversation with you to diffuse the awkwardness.

“For two months,” you answered. “Today is actually my last day.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, kind of disappointed actually, this experience has been quite nice. Now it’s back to textbooks and PowerPoint presentations, it’s like being stuck back in high school”

“I get that. Law school is just case after case and it can get boring sometimes,”

“Law school? Holy crap,” you said, before throwing a hand over your mouth, remembering he was still just a patient. “Sorry, excuse the language,”

He giggled nervously. “Don’t worry about about it,”

Conversation with him from then on was easy. It flowed quite smoothly, from talking about about school to other general things.

He liked the way you listened, Quackity knew that he waffled on about certain subjects a whole lot. But you seemed to actually be interested, your face lighting up every time. You found it sweet the way he talked so passionately about things, for a stranger, you were pretty intrigued.

You enjoyed his company for the next 30 minutes, still waiting for Doctor Anderson to come back after rushing out of the door. To be fair, It was nice to have conversation during the day that wasn’t with a fifty five year old man for once.

“But we have restaurants here like Chipotle, or Taco bell!” You exclaimed, now sitting beside him on one of the blue chairs.

“They’ve never been as good as the ones I’ve had in Mexico,” he told you.

“Well then I guess-“

Again. The noisy door swung open. Both your heads simultaneously turning towards it. The doctor walked back into the room, his hair was a little ruffled and messy. He came in as if he was looking for a certain something, and then his eyes landed on you.

“[Y/N]? What are you still doing here?” He questioned, looking at his watch. “It’s past four o’clock,”

You took out your phone from your back pocket. Damn, time really flew by and you didn’t even realise.

“We were just talking about Tiger, he’s got a bad tooth,” you said

The doctor smiled at you. “Good work, [Y/N]!” He said, pride overtaking his voice. “But it’s really time for you to go home. You can pack up your things now and relax! You’re finally finished!”

“Oh-,” you said, feeling the slightest bit disappointed as you looked at Quackity. “Thank you,”

You stood up and hesitantly slipped off the spare white lab coat, folding it up and placing it in on a nearby counter.

You looked at Quackity again, his eyes were almost saying ‘sorry’ for you having to leave.

Quackity watched you leave the room. His mood dropping straight away. He knew he wasn’t going to speak to you again after this.

The doctor started talking to him again, giving him advice for Tiger and how they would deal with the problem. However, the unfortunate problem was, his attention was focused on you. You know sometimes you talk to someone once and then for the rest of the year you constantly think about that interaction? Yeah, that’s how he was feeling. He had no idea why you had suddenly invaded all his thoughts.

Too bad you’d left without so much of a goodbye.

If only he built up the courage and asked for your number.

———

Masterlist

Taglist: @inniterhq @basilly @nite-land @bunnyloo @siriushxney @notphilosopherstudentblog @tinyegg @dreamiewrites @kai-was-here @shiyanchan

#mcyt x reader #mcyt imagines #mcyt imagine #quackity x reader #Quackity imagines #quackity imagine #quackity x you #quackity fanfiction #quackityhq x reader #quackityhq imagine #quackityhq imagines #quackityhq FANFICTION

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sunsents · 3 years

Text

Empty - F.W (1/2)

Gah daym this was a JOURNEY to write. I swore to myself to never write angst because, well I suck at it. But here we are, I swear this has a good ending because my heart can't bear that. I could've written this much better, so I promise to bring my A GAME for chapter 2. Enjoy, also Lee in this is a hate crime. This is very story telling-esk so I hope it flows well.

I wouldn't have written this chapter without the help of my good friend @mochiixjimin she helped me edit and spice up this whole thing so thank you so much to her! She's an amazing writer, go check out her work and show her some big love right now or else!! her wattpad

Chapter 1 out of 2 (Backstory)

Summary —> Life has always been a cruel joke to you, yet you simply play along. Overshadowed by Eva Burke your whole life, watching from the sidelines while everyone flooded each other with love, it would always feel like a joke.

Pairing: fredweasley x fem!reader

Word count: 6.1k

Warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST (with a fluffy ending in the second part) / One mature scene (18+) and then it's angst again <3 / Some slander / Offensive language

Rating: 18+

DON’T REPOST MY WORK

You were a bright child.

Beaming bright enough to keep a tight lipped smile during flu-shots, and enough to put on a happy façade when your dad threw away the drawing you had done of your family dog, rather than hang it up on the fridge.

Children have foolish dreams, and that was yours. Your friends in preschool boasted about their pictures being hung like trophies on fridges, with decorative magnets and even bigger pink bow ties.

The fridge in the Y/L/N manor was empty. Always empty, just how Ms. Y/L/N liked it. Empty marble floors with empty rug designs, and empty rooms with even emptier people living in it. They were both empty people. Hollow and void of any emotion, at least towards you.

You were different though. You were filled to the brim with ambition and hope and so many positive emotions that your parents never seemed to reflect on you. You were like those Disney princesses. The princesses always had hope, and when you have hope good things happen.

Right?

Your dad never meant to give you false hope. He just wished you’d keep your mouth shut as he worked until late hours. Using big words and having big aspirations, you shouldn’t have.

Mr and Mrs Y/L/N weren't bad people per say, just busy. They didn't know how to raise a child, this was obvious, because the purpose of even having a child was to fix their marriage. But a temporary fix wouldn't do it, it never did. There was always that hole on the roof, leaking rain of despair into their falsely built home that no bucket big enough could hold back. Because it always found a way to overflow.

They didn't know how to show their love, so they did it with money, clothes, toys and crayons that you would later use to draw pictures of your family, only to have them end up in the dumpster once again.

They spoiled you rotten, bought you gifts you never even dreamed of asking. You just shut up and enjoyed it, what else could you do? Whine and demand attention? Risk losing their favor? There was no favor to lose.

You got yourself a fat A plus on your third grade math test. Star stickers on your chest, you entered through the glass double doors of your house with a crooked smile - two front teeth missing of course - making your joy all the more endearing. Your backpack strapped tightly over your narrow shoulders, hanging low with all the crammed books you pushed before leaving school because you were just so excited to show your parents.

You received a big sloppy kiss from your Nanny, who practically was like a second mom to you, and dashed right into your fathers office to show him your new accomplishment.

"Good job, I'm proud of you."

You froze. You found a way to actually get their attention. The attention you so craved, the recognition you would die for. This was revolutionary. Basically a new era for you.

Nanny made you a star shaped cake that night, and sat with you while gently stroking your hair and listening to you blabber about how easy the math questions were. It felt warm, motherly love. Even if it was false, it would never compare to the love of your own mother, a love you would never get.

You spent all your night studying, your eyes burning under the harsh light of your lamp in the early mornings and your pencil, ebbing away over sheets and sheets of blank paper. Writing away your little hands off until they ached, just to snatch another A and get a good job.

This was good, it worked out very well. You became that student who looked forward to class, just to get a good grade and have the validation of your parents. The sight of your father’s lips quirk up even in the slightest, and how your mother’s eyes shone briefly in appreciation of your hard work, even if it was for a quick second, it was worth it.

Until the new neighbors moved in.

Mr. Burke was a round, cheerful man with an even rounder belly, and a big fat pipe that always hung on his lips. Mrs Burke looked and acted like those fairy godmothers you adored. You couldn’t believe such people existed. Mr Y/L/N invited them over for dinner, for courtesy. He was not happy about said courtesy.

He ended up liking the couple, they had a little daughter called Eva, who was small and adorable with round red cheeks and big doe eyes. Not only Mr and Mrs Burke, but the Y/L/N’s adored Eva as well. She was happy, always smiling, and her teeth weren't nearly as crooked as yours, not to mention she had pretty long hair like a princess.

You liked her a lot, took her to pick flowers, showed her the drawings you had prepared for the empty fridge; in case Mr Y/L/N ever had a change of heart and hung them up, you had been trying for three years and weren't giving up any sooner.

Eva was nice, kind enough to share her M&M's and very used to compliments unlike you. She seemed to get a lot from her parents and yours. The adults were so kind to her, always smothering her with love and kisses. You were happy for Eva, happy that Eva somehow managed to gain the favor of your parents before you did.

Little girls tended to be jealous, you weren’t. You were just glad to have a friend so cool, she didn't blush and stutter under praise and apparently her drawings were pretty enough to go on a fridge.

It was a Thursday afternoon when your mom smiled at you for the first time since your last exam grade. "Look, Eva drew us a picture, isn't it pretty?"

The crayola stash under your bed was no longer needed, they appeared clumsily dumped in the neighborhood trash the next day, most of them stomped under the pressure of your little sneakers. And the bundle of drawings you hid under your pillow, wishing on fairy godmother that one day they would be hung up too, were ripped; clearly a struggle given. You had paper cuts on your hands, and your Nanny thankfully applied ointment before Ms and Mr Y/L/N noticed, or rather, stopped to care.

Though you knew that even if you paraded herself with bloody fingers dripping to your elbows, they wouldn't care.

Nanny did, she was there. There when you were haunted with nightmares when the moon was particularly dark, cooing at you and letting you sleep next to her in that small bed of hers. There when you tripped and fell, small scratch resulting in a screaming tantrum. She was gentle, sweet, paid well.

You decided to go and pick flowers with Eva, and make a pretty flower crown for yourself, months after your drawing incident. Of course, you didn't have such silly dreams anymore. You didn’t wish to have your pictures hung, to have your mother wear the flower crowns you made and frankly you didn’t care for the sight of the sparkle in your parents eyes. Nanny’s was enough.

Eva agreed, dressed in a pink tutu Mrs Y/L/N gifted. You didn't comment, though deep down you gazed at the skirt in sparkling envy. Your mother never bothered to get you such pretty things. The two of you gathered saturated petals and nice ribbons while giggling amongst yourselves. Until, you accidentally caused Eva’s flowers to levitate.

Eva ran home, crying and calling you a witch. Mr and Mrs Y/L/N’s dirty looks made her feel shameful, and even dirtier when a letter addressed to her was dropped by a pretty owl you insisted on petting. It was from a school called Hogwarts, in the faraway land of London, and it seemed, not only you but Eva got the same letter the next day.

Though the Y/L/N’s and Burke’s were proud of Eva’s letter. They weren’t with yours.

— — — —

The ride to Hogwarts was interesting to say the least. You had so many questions unanswered, were you a fairy godmother too? Was that your destiny? Was that the reason you never got any attention, because you were destined to give instead of receive?

Eva was cheerful as always, making fast friends in newly bought uniforms and holding a pretty, long and thin wand, with designs flowing across the premise. Your wand was...functional. You were sad you couldn't choose, and that the wand chose the owner. It didn't make sense, what if you didn't want this wand? What if you wanted something charming like Eva’s? It should have been mutual.

It was while trying to find your way to the bathroom that you met the Weasley twins. Quite handsome, a year older and absolute fucktards. A word you learned from the two. Though you always found yourself laughing more at Fred’s jokes, you liked them both equally.

“Hey George! Look.” Fred had exclaimed, clinging onto his brothers shoulder and dragging him across. “Who's that girl?”

You introduced yourself, happy façade on, gentle words slipping out of your mouth like nectar. They had to like you, you told yourself. Just this once, more than Eva.

When sorted into Gryffindor, Eva, you and the twins became inseparable. Your group grew in second year, when Katie, Lee and Alicia Spinnet joined the bunch. You would make fun of the ghastly Potions Professor Snape, and imitate Dumbledore in the hallways to mess with the older students.

You loved your time at Hogwarts, and the adventures that came every year. Especially when Harry Potter joined.

“Hey Fred.”

Fred, who was fiddling with his bracelet you had bought him hummed in response, not bothering to look up.

You sighed, “Do you think the flowers can feel it when we pluck them?”

Fred turned at that, his bracelet was now tightly secure after his struggles. “I hope not.” he smiled, a faraway look on his face whenever he gazed at you. “You know, some people like pain.” he winked.

You merely looked at him confused, clearly way too young for...whatever that is.

He started laughing loudly, slapping his knee and causing you to scoff and slap him on the shoulder.

Third year was when it bloomed. The slight girly attention you gave Fred grew. Fred was...Fred. A handsome ginger, beater for their house's Quidditch team, always charming and charismatic that somehow oozed out of him whenever he did anything really. It was not unusual, every girl in school had a crush on him. That wasn't the case, Fred was one of your best friends, and you refused to entertain the idea of a possible...relationship.

Yet sometimes, you'd find yourself thinking about hugging and kissing Fred like you’d seen couples in your favorite movies did and you’d fall asleep with reddened cheeks and a boy with even redder hair in your mind.

But feelings couldn’t be controlled, nor easily hidden. Eva found out in your fourth year after hearing you mumble his name in your dreams. Fred Weasley was getting more handsome as years passed, and you found it hard to contain your feelings. You were crushing, hard.

Eva was...Eva about it. Happy, but nothing changed. She didn't tease like George did when he found out, nor did she act any differently towards Fred.

“Hey ____!” Fred had sat next to you, shaking the entire couch because he grew that tall during summer. “Got a new girl after me.” he looked at you, almost expectantly, as if you wouldn’t react the way you always reacted.

“That’s great Fred.” you smiled, gulping whatever lump that was forming in your throat and struggling to come out as vulgar words you wished to yell.

“Yeah,” Fred sighed, “It’s...great.”

Fred Weasley was a ladies man, and he wasn't afraid to show it. It was okay, because you were happy enough to be one of his closest, and that was enough. He often boasted about getting girls, and how successful his jokes were, and you always loved snapping back to him cockily, even more cockily than him. Playful banter was easy, comforting between them and when he turned away you would love to shyly entertain the idea of being one of those girl’s Fred talked about.

Fifth year, you had a sudden growth spurt. That was also the year where you discovered Cosmopolitan, Vogue and of course Witch Weekly. Hair no longer in a ponytail, legs shaved and smooth, short skirts with no nylons, you were a new person. After getting your period in third year, your spurt came late, but sudden. Way too sudden in the time of three months. It was hard to handle the changes occurring to your body. It was all too much that you had to become a lady and the fact that you didn’t have your mother to help was a pain you hid deep within.

It was as if whichever god above decided to squeeze your entire life into a summer and call it a day, because it was simply too busy. How ironic. No one saw your growth except old Nanny Gladys. Not Eva, nor her parents considering they went on a getaway and the Burke's, who had gone to Brazil.

But you were over that, you discovered the great telephone, and the great Hermione Granger, package deal with Ginny Weasley. You guys would talk on the phone for hours upon hours, Ginny obscuring your personality and Hermione altering your view on your parents. And Hermione was right, they were assholes. You didn't give a flying fuck about empty praises anymore.

You had become almost too tall for your older clothes, and your breasts were way too big to fit in the training bra you bought not even a month ago. Your hips, now wide and swaying as you walk became graceful, were decorated with long gem bracelets.

You cursed like a sailor that summer, ran around fields with family - your family being your dog, Jambo - bare feet. You stomped on flowers you used to pick as a little girl, stomping on those silly fairytale dreams you used to nurse, and never felt freer. For the first time ever you felt that maybe being empty could be more freeing than having false hope weighing you down.

Returning to Hogwarts was a big deal to students. Who changed, who glowed up after what happened last year - nothing, it was all childish drama.

Before your parents could even see your new self, your escapade to the Granger household was successful. The Y/L/N's didn't care, nor did they write. You knew it should’ve hurt, but frankly, you didn’t think having the pain in your chest was worth it. Hermione was awestruck, of course, after laying her sights on you for the first time since May and insisted on walking into the Entrance Hall, arm in arm with her and Ginny to show you off like some sort of revelation.

It was a revelation all right, at least to the boys, and some girls. It seemed no one saw you as a girl before. George oogled, and Lee was so shocked to find out that you were actually a girl with a pretty figure and an even prettier smile that he stopped clapping you on the back like he always did. Not a girl, you have become a woman. It was far too sudden, new uniforms and a whole new wardrobe had to be bought.

"____? You were a girl?" Fred joked, ruffling your hair like nothing changed between you. And that's when you realized, no slutty skirt, how much pushup your bra, or no matter how pretty your hair looked, Fred would always see you as ____, the girl with crooked front teeth and who once ate a worm in second year. Your teeth weren't crooked at all anymore - thanks to a few years of braces - and finally clear of uncomfortable metals but you felt as if Fred would always see the ghost of them on your pearly whites when you smiled.

He had this view of you that blinded him, caused him to treat you as he treated Ginny while he flirted and played footsie with other girls, including Eva.

That did not stop Eva from giving you false hope, and you took the bait, naive like always. Hope, that's what ruined it all. "You're beautiful now, of course you have a chance!" she said, rubbing your shoulder reassuringly, as if she had warmth to begin with.

It was all false, yet you still believed. You always had. Like a fool.

Ginny didn't like Eva, and maybe that's why you gravitated towards her. She was the first person who had ever met Eva that wasn't charmed by her kind smile and attractive words. Eva was...displeased. She grew up having the attention of everyone around, so when Ginny Weasley told her straight to her face that she wasn't shit, Eva seethed. The attention of Ginny changed nothing though, because Eva was the main character. Everyone - except Ginny, and secretly Hermione (though she would never say it) - loved her, they followed her around like puppies and praised her on her wonky wand work.

The upcoming Yule Ball brought great upswing to Hogwarts.

You were far too busy with her classes to take interest in the tournament - even though the dragon race was the gnarliest sight you had ever seen. Your goal was set, become a badass Auror and move out as soon as possible, so you didn't have to face your parents (except Holidays, yuck.)

But the Yule Ball was your chance. A chance with Fred Weasley.

You could ask to go as friends and maybe, just maybe a little hope and the night would end much more romantic than you had anticipated.

Plucking up courage was the hardest part, you practiced with your bathroom mirror so long that Ginny had to blast through the door and drag you out of her dormitory.

Fred Weasley agreed, why wouldn't he? You, his closest friend, asking to go as a group and drink all night while gossiping? It was a win win. At least that's what you told herself.

That was a lie, it wasn't a win win.

You gave it your all getting ready, dress silk, makeup and expensive shoes. You took a long shower, scrubbing and shaving yourself to a smooth gliding porcelain, only for it all to be washed down with reddened eyes and a boy with even redder hair.

Fred greeted you the same, danced the same, and you chatted the same; you were reminded again, for the second time, that you stood no chance.

Fred told you that he was going to get drinks, a quick trip to the booth and mumbled I'll be back in a second. He was not back in a second. Several minutes passed, and your worries caused your feet to follow after Fred's footsteps.

You ran, trying to find him in the empty corridors of Hogwarts, tears welling in your eyes because he wouldn't. He wasn't that cruel, life wasn't that cruel.

But it was, and in a distant empty classroom you saw Fred Weasley, on his knees and between Eva's legs, groaning and praising her like a starved man. Worshipping her like everyone else had, burying himself in her and completely forgetting the drink he’d bring back in just a second. He’d left you thirsty and alone in the Great Hall and left you to drink from a cup he hadn’t known to be forbidden. Yet Eva did.

Eva's perfect dainty hands tangled in his ginger hair, thighs clamping shut while her high pitched moans flooded your mind and echoed around your head. They were so loud that she couldn’t even hear the loud echoes of your footsteps and the woeful cries that left your lips as you ran. It wouldn’t be the first time she had ignored your pain for her own selfish reasons.

Your heart shattered, and suddenly you were six again, watching your parents praise Eva, hang her drawing on the fridge. A soft breeze tickling your bare toes, dangling from the small cushioned seat you sat on while you watched Eva braid Mrs Y/L/N’s hair. Emotionless, silent, not asking for anything, knowing that you won't receive in return. Eva's small hands carefully placed the flower crown on Mrs Y/L/N’s pool of hair, and she smiled, heart warming and hopeful. Suddenly you remembered the feel of your own hands tangling in between your locks as you stood on your tiptoes, trying to imitate your mothers braid on yourself in the mirror you couldn't reach. You pretended, only for a moment before it twisted into knots.

What a cruel joke, you thought as you watched Eva receive the world from Fred, from your parents, from your friends and from every damn person you had met.

You cried on a big set of stairs that night, your wails echoing as you asked whoever, whatever what you had done. What you had done to deserve such treatment from the people around you. It was rather cliche - and maybe a bit too dramatic. It was an uncomfortable seat of course, and your body, as well as your heart, ached. Pain, misery, false hope and enough hair spray to melt the ozone.

The princesses always cried on big sets of stairs, uncomfortable stone floors causing them to shiver while they hid away their beautifully animated faces in their perfect hands. This was different, there was no fairy godmother to fix your makeup and clone a gentlemanly Fred Weasley, a perfect prince. You knew, because you cried, and prayed and cried and prayed until your throat was sore. There was no fairy godmother, it was all a lie. There was no happy ending. There would be none.

No one came to find you that night either, and you had to drag yourself back to the Gryffindor common room, feet bare, mascara, blush - anything else you put on in hopes of being able to become like Eva even only for one night - practically nonexistent from the way your tears washed them away.

You didn't sleep that night, and your head was unusually clear, pounding, but clear. You laid awake, eyes blood-shot and stinging while your dress shuffled uncomfortably between your sheets. You were too tired to change, and your dress was far too pretty to be worn so short.

Ginny's words replayed over and over again. "They're not worth it." her voice was so clear, and true. Mr and Mrs Burke weren't worth it. Your parents weren't worth it. Fred Weasley wasn't worth it. Eva wasn't worth it. The midnight chirping of bugs invited themselves in from your open window, and blue moonlight streaks beaming down in lines from the tulle curtain flowed with breeze, it was calming.

You felt calm, for the first time in sixteen years. You felt calm.

Fred and Eva started dating that week. Everyone acted like they expected it, and you realized just how blind you had been. Eva Burke and Fred Weasley, golden couple of Hogwarts.

You watched them, emotionless, as they embraced with love and so much passion that you felt embarrassed. Embarrassed at how you’d blushed and squeal over Fred in front of Eva and George and anyone who had found out because now you knew. Now you knew that their amused smiles were probably pitying grimaces because they knew that you two were never meant to be. It was always Fred and Eva.

Fred was an amazing boyfriend, making sure Eva was taken care of, lovingly staring at her whenever and wherever, arm looped around her waist at all times; you realized they were truly not worth it.

"You disgust me."

You didn't mean the words to escape so carelessly, but when you said them, you realized you didn't want to take them back. The growing pit in your stomach felt weightless. "Excuse me?" said Fred, stopping his nibbling on Eva's neck, who was just as shocked. You scoffed, Eva already had enough purple bruises to parade around so why did Fred have the need to add more?

"You heard me right," George, Lee, Ron, Harry, Katie and whoever sitting in their circle stared at you, wide-eyed, Ginny and Hermione, however, were grinning devilishly. Kind ____, wouldn't hurt a fly, quiet at times and didn't know how to stand up for herself. It was shocking, but you were done pretending. You didn't want to be like that anymore, you wanted to say whatever came to mind and not worry about the consequences. "You guys disgust me, I know I should be supportive but you don't match, at all."

You turned to George. "And you, no you can't talk about Katie like that." George went pink. "You're disgusting for sleeping around carelessly and telling girls you'd write, stop giving people false hope. Grow up. You’re nearly an adult and you can’t even treat a girl right."

"And you Lee," Lee went quiet. "What gives you the right to make fun of me like that. I'll wear whatever the fuck I want, just because you don't have the courage to wear a headband. If you can talk about my breasts, I'll talk about your shrimp."

"Ron, you take advantage of Hermione then lead her on. Open your eyes, asshole."

"Harry, you're not the main character. You're not always going to be the center of attention, nor do you have the right to yell at your friends."

"Alicia, god you're so stupid. I'm sorry, you're great but such an airhead. No, you can't ride a Thestral if you can't see them, and stop eating quill ink they're bad for you."

You stood up, grinning proudly, heart loud in your chest you feared someone might hear. "Frankly, I don't wanna be friends anymore. I'm done with this façade, except you two, 'Gin, Hermione. The rest of you are just so fake." she gestured to them. "Boys," she nodded again. "Don't talk to me anymore, and Lee, give me back the money, think it's about time don't you think? I've been paying for you since third year."

And with that, you left. You left Three Broomsticks, grin wide and chest heaving. Hermione and Ginny ran behind, whooping and cheering you on as they laughed.

The news of your outburst spread fast like wildfire caught in wind. That week was bliss, you no longer had to watch Fred and Eva, nor did you have to act sweet to anyone. You didn't have to laugh along Lee's sexist jokes and look away to wince, it was pure bliss. You realized that the feeling of being free didn’t have to be momentary.

Pansy Parkinson was surprisingly a good friend, she didn't have the same fakeness to her, the one Eva had where her smile was too kind. She spoke her mind, though every Slytherin did, and you liked that. Ginny wasn't happy with your new found friends, but she couldn't separate you. You made your own decisions from now on. It was refreshing.

You told your new friends everything, eager to get it off your chest and breathe, and they listened. For the first time, someone listened. You didn't have to get good grades, nor did you have to act like a sweet angel.

You teared up the first time Pansy said; "It's not your fault,". You knew it wasn't your fault, but hearing someone else say it with such genuine eyes made you believe. Actually believe.

It started off with you watching from the sidelines as Draco and Blaise pranked, insulted and shamed whatever your old friend group did. It wasn't unusual for Draco to act this way, but he got especially irritated after hearing what you told them. Blaise, someone usually quiet, had stepped up and decided to somehow release the pent up anger he had for the Gryffindor students.

The year ended, and you had started to sneak in an insult or two towards Fred and Eva. It felt nice, like finally, step by step you were clearing your years of hidden jealousy. But, there was no one to tell you that this simply wasn't the right way.

That summer, you stayed at the Burrow. Ginny had invited you and you were quick to say yes; obviously a fact forgotten. Fred, George and whoever you had insulted last year stayed in the same house. You simply didn't want to go home, and if this meant seeing Fred Weasley then you had to endure it.

Molly Weasley was the sweetest person you could ever meet, and it was genuine. It felt genuine, you feared your teeth might rot if the woman got another word in. Molly greeted you as if you were her own daughter she hadn't seen in years. You felt valued, seen.

Until Eva was there, Fred invited her. You had to watch the only person you were able to love, introduce the only person he was able to love to his mother. It wasn't you. It would never be you.

And you realized, even after everything, Eva had once again found a way to be more loved than you.

The grin Molly broke out was nothing short of beautiful, and you couldn't help but smile as well. The smile wasn't directed towards you of course, and you sat on that small kitchen chair, celebrating a relationship that caused your ruin.

Eva didn't care that your friendship was over, nothing budged in her life. She still got the same attention, still received the same love from Fred. The same affection, the same attention and the same everything. Or so it seemed.

Though unlike Eva, Fred merely watched you with sad eyes.

You stayed clear of the couple and the rest. You hung out with Ginny and Hermione only, ignoring the dirty looks Ron and Harry gave you. The secret, whispered insults Eva threw your way. George didn't say anything, but he didn't object either. This was enough to show how he felt. At this point you really didn't care. Why would you, when they didn’t either?

You held your head high just like Ginny and Hermione told you to, and you spoke in a loud and clear tone whenever asked something. Eva didn't, she stuttered when you spoke to her directly. Her words scrambled against each other when she tried to voice her insults in louder statements than a whisper. For the first time, you felt relief. You felt intimidating, protected by the barriers you had built around yourself.

Longest day of summer hit, and it boiled. Tanning became a distant dream, you would bake in this weather, and you were thankful to the big AC box you had brought from home. You couldn't sleep that night, sweat beads falling down your forehead that was already covered in a thin sheen. You had decided to get a cold glass of water, not sure how you ended up face to face with Fred Weasley. His wand tip shone with blue light, and his freckles were much darker because of the sun. It seemed the sun decided to be cruel to Fred Weasley back and wash Fred over with it's deathly heat. He was sunburnt, this was an understatement. He was burnt.

You couldn't help but start laughing when you met, ignoring the proximity, ignoring the sleeping house, dead silent and a big leap from the lively Burrow, ignoring Fred's soft breaths he let out every other second. You couldn't live off on false hope anymore.

Suddenly it wasn't so funny anymore, and your face quickly fell. You took a big step back and inhaled, ready to ignore him like you had been doing for the past year. But Fred Weasley was a persistent man, and he gripped your arm and looked at you with determined, doe-like eyes. "Tell me what I did wrong." he said, adamant on fixing this, whatever this was. You both didn't know.

You stood silent.

"Please flower,"

"Don't call me that." you said, stern and gaze sharp. Fred didn't react, he kept on insisting.

"Please, tell me how to fix this. I can fix it," he pleaded, a plethora of empty promises fell out of his lips like nothing. He lied like it was nothing, he was oblivious to everything he and everyone around them had put you through. It was infuriating.

You didn't say anything. You knew he would not fix anything but maybe staying silent would give him the false hope that spinned mockingly in your head for the past eighteen years.

"I'm sorry, just please. I can fix this, I promise, don't be like that." empty tears fell down from his eyes. He looked empty, tired. They lacked the charm they usually shined with and you wondered if it was only you that caused such dullness. Eye bags prominent that you never noticed before. It all felt like a lie, a cruel joke.

Fred Weasley was simply a cruel joke. His presence could only be compared to a shot of whiskey, especially when you down it like how Hagrid nurses a Firewhiskey filled pint glass. You never know how it will hit you. But in the end, you'd always find yourself curled next to the toilet, crying your eyes out because your headache was simply too much.

He was sobbing now, hanging onto your waist like you would simply vanish and you let him. The grip he had on was like steel vice - almost concerning - but you didn't touch him, didn't say anything. You just let him be, like he did to you. Allowed him to hopelessly hang off you before you would eventually leave him alone, like he did to you. "Where did I go wrong? How could we end up like this? What went wrong?"

‘You’, but your voice couldn’t be found.

Questions were useless when the answer was already right in front of his eyes. You didn’t let a single tear fall, you wouldn't forgive yourself if you cried in front of him.

You blinked, and that night was over. Summer continued on like nothing happened, like it didn't leave you heart broken and in such shame yet again. You continued on ignoring Fred as he looked at you with sorrowful eyes. Looked at you more, with more than he did his own girlfriend.

You blinked and the school year started again with another terror looming around the corner. There was simply no need to keep up anymore, because school was easy. You attended classes, got good grades, a few scar here and there from Umbridge's torture chamber, a woman who stood at a whopping five foot three yet still teriffied an entire school.

You blinked and you had already become a proud member of Draco's insult the Gryffindor's club. You didn't even feel bad, being horrible to the people you hated for years felt like a breath of fresh air. You didn't go as far as physically hurting any of your old friends, but coming up with damaging insults was such fun. A lot more fun than sitting around with a fake smile.

You blinked, and you were already moving out from your childhood house. Mr and Mrs Y/L/N were unusually happy, this was a given. They would have a new empty room and make another office, like they didn't have enough already. You feared they would start getting rid of bathrooms once too into their work, and they would have to do their business in bushes or buckets. Scratch that, you didn't fear that, it would be fucking hilarious.

You blinked, and when had time passed too quickly? Where did all those empty childhood years had gone? You were already graduating, on your way to become an Auror. You had lost contact with all your old friends now, regretfully Ginny and Hermione too.

The war had hit too quickly, luckily you survived, so did your friends. Unluckily, it left you with a nasty scar right across your left brow. It looked sick, but the hit wasn't worth it. It hurt like a bitch. You could see, it was a close call but vision wasn't an issue. The trauma though, god did Bellatrix's breath smell bad.

When it was all over, you had seen Fred hugging his family tightly. It seemed the Weasley's all survived, and you gave them each tight lipped smiles while holding a bunched up rag to your head to stop the blood gushing out. This wasn't the reunion you wanted to have with Ginny, but hey, you take what you can get after a revolutionary Wizarding war you barely made out alive.

Before a franticly running Fred could reach you though, you apparated to your flat in Diagon Alley, ignoring the thrumming of your heart, and how you practiced in front of a mirror to congratulate their successful joke shop that morning.

#angst #hp angst #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley #fred weasley x y/n #weasley twins #fred weasley angst #fred weasley smut #fred weasley series #reader insert #harry potter fluff #harry potter fic #fred weasley imagine

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sammygvfslut · 3 years

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i like you a latte | s. kiszka

Summary: Words cannot espresso how much you mean to Sammy Kiszka.

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Hey besties!!! this is my first ever sam fic, and i really hope you guys enjoy it! it’s super cheesy so beware of some tooth-rotting fluff ahead. any and all feedback is appreciated <3

Loud chattering and the sounds of espresso machines hissing and whistling filled the cafe. Every few seconds or so when a new customer walked in, a soft ringing above the door rang. Glancing at the clock, you sighed as it read 7am. Way too early for your liking. You wished to be back in bed under the covers with your cat Joey snuggling. Plus, the cold weather made it even harder for you to get out of bed every morning. Damn you, winter.

“Good morning.” A voice said suddenly, startling you as you slightly jumped. “Whoops, didn’t mean to scare you there for a sec.”

Turning around at the voice, your heart fluttered and a smile pulled at the corners of your lips. “G-Good morning, Sam! Nope, didn’t scare me at all. I was just uh...focusing very hard and you caught me off guard.”

A chuckle rumbled from his chest, his own lips curving and flashing that beautiful grin. God, he made you melt. You took a quick chance to admire his appearance for the day, luscious brown locks pulled back into a low bun with a few stray pieces framing his face, and he wore a slightly oversized brown grandpa looking sweater. He exuded true fall energy today and all you wanted to do was snuggle with him watching a movie while sipping on hot chocolate. “Right. Focusing on what exactly? Staring at the register?”

“S-Sure. Yes, the register.” Totally not him instead. “Um, I realized it turned off right now and my mind blanked to turn it back on.”

Sam placed a hand on your shoulder as he laughed, his touch leaving a wave of goosebumps to rise out of your skin. “You’re so cute. I’ll leave you to that then, but if you need help trying to get the register to turn back on again, let me know.” And with that, he sent you a wink and turned on his heel away to start on the customers orders.

Alright, alright. So maybe early shifts weren’t as bad as you thought thanks to your insanely charming co-worker. Sam and you had been working together for the past year, and almost instantly you started falling for him. He welcomed you with open arms and he was a great help when it came to your training. Your co-workers were nice too, but Sam took that extra step in making sure you were comfortable with what you were doing. If you made a mistake and were freaking out about it, he somehow knew the way to calm you down. He was too precious and good for this cruel world. And most of all, out of your league too.

With his dashing looks and amazing personality, you just knew there was no way he’d ever feel the same about you. Except, any time you’d voice that thought to any of your friends at work, they’d tell you you’re crazy and that he likes you too. Apparently they caught on to the signs more than you did, which wasn’t a shocker considering that you’d have no clue if a guy was interested in you unless he blatantly confessed. So, trying to figure out hints was completely pointless for you.

“Uh oh, she’s deep in thought,” one of your friends/co-workers, Danny, teased. He also happened to be Sam’s best friend, and current band mate since the pair are in a band with Sam’s older twin brothers. “I bet I can guess what, or who you were thinking about.”

“Don’t even say it,” you warned with a finger, “He’s literally four feet away from us—”

“So?” Danny rolled her eyes with his arms folded. “Why don’t you just tell him how you feel? Come on, it’s been almost a year now. What’s the worst that can happen if you confess?”

“He can hear me.” You stared blankly at him, shaking your head. “Absolutely not though, Danny. I will not embarrass myself from the humiliation I’d have to face from his rejection.”

Danny groaned frustratedly, placing his hands on both your shoulders and shaking them. “You’re so hopeless! Y/N, how many times do the guys and I have to tell you he likes you too!” He raised his voice a little louder than necessary which accidentally caught the attention of almost everyone in the cafe. Sam included unfortunately. Danny’s eyes widened, silently cursing under his breath. “Carry on, everyone.”

As much as you hated to admit it, Danny wasn’t lying when he mentioned about the guys agreeing that Sam likes you too. Every time you came over Josh’s apartment and Sam was there he’d find any little excuse to have his arm around you or teasing you constantly. You’d shake it off that he was just treating you like a friend would, but of course the guys would disagree with you.

“We’ll finish this conversation later,” Danny told you sternly, “But for now, and don’t make it obvious, but Sam’s looking at you.” A mischievous grin spread across his face as he winked and stepped to the next register before greeting a new customer and taking their order.

Heart pounding out of your chest, you slowly looked over your shoulder in Sam’s direction. You saw his head quickly turn and finish off the drink in front of him. Your cheeks burned at this and tried taking deep, slow breaths to calm yourself down. Didn’t work much, but as a new customer waved and told you their order, your breathing turned back to normal.

On the other end of the counter, Sam was currently freaking the hell out from what he heard a few minutes ago between you and Danny. He didn’t mean to, but he also wasn’t that far from either of you. Plus, Danny wasn’t the best at keeping his voice low. He had a strong feeling he knew you were talking about him, and for that reason alone he overflowed the cup he was pouring into and made a mess. He cursed under his breath and wiped his hands on his apron, shaking his head.

You caught sight of this and rushed to his side, grabbing a cloth from under the sink and started wiping the sticky counter. Sam was certain his cheeks were tomato red from his embarrassment, making a complete fool of himself for not paying attention to what he was doing. More so focusing on your conversation and your damn smile from earlier. You weren’t the only one here with a crush.

“T-Thanks, Y/N.” Sam chuckled nervously, throwing the cup in the trash and tossing the drink pitcher he held in the sink. “I’m normally not this much of a dumbass.”

“I’m not too sure about that one, Kiszka.” You teased lightly with a grin. “It happens, don’t worry,” you assured. “I’m just glad it was cold tea you spilled and not steaming coffee. I’d hate for you to get a third degree burn. That happened to me once, don’t recommend it.”

“Didn’t I drive you to the hospital for that?” he asked. “I think that might’ve happened a few months ago.”

Your eyes widened at the memory. “Oh shit, you’re right. God, I’m still so sorry I had to drag you into that.”

Sam shook his head, lips curving and cheeks no longer flushed. “For the hundredth time, stop apologizing about that, Y/N. You know you can count on me for anything, so of course I didn’t mind driving you to the hospital. I remember even blasting some ABBA on the way over there so you’d have something else to focus on instead of the pain you endured.”

You smiled at the memory. “Didn’t we also go out for ice cream afterwards?”

He nodded, lightly rubbing his arm. “Yeah, it was a lot of fun. I mean, I always have fun when I’m with you.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his last few words, blinking slowly. “O-Oh.”

Oh? That’s all you have to say? Nice one, Y/N.

Sam’s heart dropped. Fuck. Maybe you weren’t talking about him after all. Maybe it was Danny or one of his brothers that you had a crush on and he was mistaken about it. He wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow him whole right about now. Being anywhere but here sounded splendid to him.

“Y-Y/N, I—“

“Ihavefunwhenimwithyoutoo,” you muttered all too quickly, and poor Sam barely even understood what you said. He didn’t have the chance to ask you to repeat yourself because you quickly walked away to the back and he was left with a tug at his chest, frowning.

Within the next few days after Sam’s tea spill, literally, things between you and him became...awkward. Something went off in him to become even more clumsy than normal and forget everything he’s ever known when you’re near him. He’d get flustered, stuttering a lot, messing up orders, dropping dishes, and nearly tripping all the time. He hated it so much and wished he could just muster up the courage and apologize for being such an idiot and confess his feelings to you. Even during your hangouts with the guys, Sam and you wouldn’t interact as much and honestly you were well aware you were being super childish and immature about the situation. Sam did too, and he needed to snap the fuck out of it.

The next few days at work Sam would ignore Danny’s little side comments about his immaturity and continued working in silence. For the rest of his shift he didn’t talk much to anyone other than the customers. He wanted to talk to you when he had the chance, but then he’d quickly back out and walk the opposite direction.

He couldn’t figure out why it was so futile for him to just grow a sack and tell you he likes you. He’d never gone through this struggle before. Then again, as cheesy as it sounded, the other girls he’d asked out in the past couldn’t compare to you. Never in a million years, and maybe he was too afraid that he didn’t deserve someone as amazing as you.

Nearing closing that same day, it was only you, Sam, and Danny. The flow of customers died down and not many people came in towards the end of the night which you were grateful for. It finally gave you the chance to relax a bit and start cleaning things up ahead of time so you wouldn’t have to stay after. Joey and a nice warm bath were waiting for you at home.

While Sam decided on working the register and you and Danny would clean, he grabbed your arm and led you into the back.

“What are you two still doing not dating each other or talking?! It’s been way too long now, Y/N. And since it’s only us three tonight, you have no other choice. Come on, I know you can’t take this any longer, and he can’t either. I can take over the register for a bit while you and him talk.”

You chewed on your bottom lip, contemplating his offering. As incredibly thankful as you were for his help, you were also scared shitless of the possible outcome. Perhaps it was finally time though that you say fuck it and say what you needed to. You couldn’t go on for any longer to keep your feelings bottled up inside. Maybe, just maybe he might feel the same way, and by God you hoped that would be the case.

Inhaling, you nodded slowly and made your way back to where you were. Your eyes searched for Sam and saw he was busy making a drink, except there was no one else here besides you, him and Danny. It could’ve been a drink for him, so you shrugged this off and went towards the sink to start washing the dishes.

A few moments later, Sam cleared his throat from behind you. “H-Hey Y/N, so um, I know the créme brûlée latte is your favorite, and I thought I’d make you one. You seemed really stressed and busy today and I wanted to try to cheer you up. I hope that’s okay.”

Your heart swelled at his generosity and your cheeks burned as you felt his gaze burning into you, his palms soaking from nervousness. “Sam, you didn’t have to do that for me.”

He shrugged casually, a small smile on his lips and his cheeks tinted a light pink. “It’s okay, I wanted to. And I uh, tried my best on the art. Hope you like it.”

Raising a brow, your gaze dropped on your cup and your eyes widened as you saw what he was referring to. A small coffee cup with the words I like you a latte around it.

“It’s true,” Sam chewed on his bottom lip while running his fingers through his hair. “I really like you Y/N, and I’m so sorry for acting like such an idiot these last few days around you. I don’t know what came over me, and I’m sorry that I didn’t talk to you much either.”

Setting your cup on the counter, you took a step closer to him and cupped his cheek, rubbing your thumb softly against his soft skin. “You don’t have to apologize for anything, Sam. I’m sorry for not talking to you too, as well as for making a fool of myself. I tend to do that around someone I like.”

Finally, the realization dawned on Sam as a wide grin pulled at his lips. “Glad we’re on the same boat.”

“I-Is it alright if I kiss you?” he asked shyly, his eyes sparkling as he looked at you.

You giggled. “You don’t even have to ask, loverboy.” You playfully rolled your eyes and cupped his other cheek before connecting his lips with yours.

A smirk pulled at Danny’s lips as he glanced at the two of you, shaking his head. Josh and Jake owed him $20 now.

It was about damn time that Sam and you finally espresso’d your love for each other.

tagging these lovely folks bc they helped inspired me and their work is amazing <3 @godlygreta / @flowervanfleet / @dharma-divine

#sam kiszka imagine #sam kiszka x reader #greta van fic #greta van fleet #sam kiszka

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tinisprout · 3 years

Text

A Kiss to Remember

Pairing: Hyunjae x gn!Reader

Genre: Fluff, mutual pinning

Warnings: profanities like a lot, alcohol consumption, jokes of killing

Word count: 2.4k

Summary: After a kiss you spend a month of trying to figure out your own feeling you come to the conclusion that you like Hyunjae. You wonder how to deal with these feelings, especially when he doesn't feel that way about you, at least that's what you think.

a/n: Happy birthday Hyunjae Im a little late y'all don't mind that.

When you have been friends for so long is it better to just stay as such? Should I just bury these budding feelings before, it becomes something I can’t handle? I look at my hand, the one that casually reached out to him and had been reached out to by him many times before. It was only recently that holding him like that made my heart tickle. After today there is no denying my feelings, I like Hyunjae.

“So do I just cut them off or…,” I bite my lip struggling with a decision. How would I even go about stopping these feelings?! “Ugh, why does he suddenly have to be so appealing.” around a month ago after one of our nights out drinking, we somehow ended up making out. Sure we always lightly flirted with each other, but that’s just how we are, nothing was ever taken seriously like there was a line we knew that shouldn’t be crossed.

That night it was crossed, but I’m the only one that has any recollection of it happening. Hyunjae remembers nothing of that night and I’m left to deal with these complicated feelings. I didn’t tell him cause, whatever, it’s not like we have feelings for each other anyways. It’s just something that happened, I don’t have to make a big deal of it. That’s what I thought at first, then I noticed how my eyes started to linger on him.

For this past month, I’ve been trying to gauge these feelings for him, to say I like him after one measly kiss is too much. Now I know for sure, but what do I do now? How he acts towards me now is no different from how he’s always treated me, so it’s not like he looks at me in that way.

“No, this is not what I should be thinking about right now! I have to get ready, gotta go soon.”

Hyunjae’s birthday party is tonight, I can’t make today about me. I’ll just act like normal today, he’ll never know the difference.

***

Walking into the designated lounge room for Hyunjae’s party I was greeted by a few familiar faces and some unfamiliar. I was given a wave and nod by some of my friends before almost being knocked off my feet.

“Y/N! You’re finally here, I’ve been waiting for you!” Hyunjae throws himself into my arms giving me a tight squeeze. I freeze up and then remind myself that I should act naturally.

“And a hello to you too. Drunk already I see birthday boy,” I say tapping his back with one hand trying to not get too close. Jacob comes up offering a smile in greeting and I smile back.

“You need to control yourself,” Jacob says then pulling Hyunjae off me falling into his arms, and I thank him with a nod. Hyunjae struggles in Jacob’s hold wanting to break free, then Jacob whispers something in Hyunjae’s ears and he stops struggling, instead, slumping in his arms letting himself be dragged away back to his seat. Looking back to the rest of the table I see my best friend Sunwoo waving me over the free spot next to him. I take a seat and Sunwoo pulls me in giving me a side hug and I reciprocate, doing the same.

“So you want to tell me what that was all about?” He leans in whispering to me.

“What are you talking about?”

“Seriously? I saw the way you blushed like a schoolgirl that was told they are cute by their crush when Hyunjae hugged you.”

“No way!” In shock, I pull away from Sunwoo rubbing at my forehead. I pretend I don’t see the eyes of everyone else go to me at my outburst, and get closer to Sunwoo, whispering again. “Was I that obvious?”

“So you’re admitting that there was something going on there?” He gives a sly smirk and I realize I’ve been had.

“You’re the worst.”

“Yeah yeah, but why am I only hearing about this today?”

“Because I’ve only acknowledged it myself today.”

“Acknowledged it? Just how long have I been out of the loop and does that mean that the two of you are…?” He trailed off letting me fill in the blank.

“Nothing. This is all just one-sided, he should have no idea.”

“You’re fucking kidding me right?”

“What?” Sunwoo sighs at my words and wraps his arms around my shoulder again.

“I’m your bestie, right? I’m also Hyunjae’s friend, correct?”

“Yes, and?”

“Exactly. Now, look at Hyunjae. If anyone else was in my position with you, he would not be looking at us, like a sad frog, but glaring at the person in my place. You get it?” Hyunjae did have his stupid-looking frog face on display, but no, that probably cause he was reprimanded by Jacob.

“No, Hyunjae doesn’t see me like that.”

“Sure maybe at the start of your friendship he didn’t, but the way I see it is, there is a -2% chance that he doesn’t see you that way.”

“And the way I see it is that I shouldn’t even be thinking about this tonight. I just want to get through tonight without a problem, have some fun. I can figure out everything else later.”

"Okay, whatever. My friends are a bunch of oblivious morons." He mumbles the last part knowing damn well I can still hear him.

"Say that again mother fucker. I'll kill you.” I playfully shove Sunwoo and he pretends to be hurt.

“Yo chill!” The both of us laugh out loud and then there is the slamming of shot glasses by the two of us. I turn to see it was Hyunjae, he looks at me with a pout but doesn’t say anything.

“There is a drinking rule. Every time someone joins the party we gotta take a shot,” Jacob explains in Hyunjae’s place.

“Oh, so that’s why he is already smashed.” There was still a deal more empty seats left… is Hyunjae going to survive tonight? Everyone pours themselves a drink, the ones that got here were first looking a little sick while the rest of us were fine, we all down the drinks. The night continues with good vibes, till the last guest arrives with a plus one. Both are unfamiliar faces to me.

“Sorry I’m late, Hyunjae. Also thanks for letting me bring my sister, she really wanted to meet my friends.” The man and his sister wish Hyunjae a happy birthday and take the only seats left available which just so happened to be next to the birthday man himself. With the arrival of two new guests, everyone takes the mandatory shot. I could feel a little more than a buzz, but overall still fine.

The conversation was flowing as normal as everyone was having a good time. A few more drinks in when everyone was a little drunker, open, and comfortable things got a little more handsy. Whatever that’s what people do when they’re drunk, but I couldn’t notice just how handsy that new girl was getting with Hyunjae.

“Good lord, Y/N. Are you trying to kill her with your eyes?” Snapping out of it, I look to sunwoo how was laughing his ass off.

“I might be,” getting mad at myself for the silly words, I rub roughly at my forehead. “So stupid. I don’t have any right to be mad. He isn’t my boyfriend or anything.” The girl tries to casually grab for Hyunjae’s hand and I quickly look up groaning, “That should be me.”

“Damn, you’re down bad.”

“You’re right!” I pour myself another drink, downing it as fast as I can. “I hope I get so shwasted that I forget everything!”

“I take no responsibility for whatever happens tonight, but hell yeah!” Sunwoo takes another shot. The night continues smoothly and everything is jovial except for every time I see her take an advance toward Hyunjae. The party started to slow down and eventually, everyone came to the decision that they could handle no more, so that party came to an end after a few good hours of drinking. After everyone except Hyunjae split the bill, one by one the people started leaving the lounge.

“Jacob I require your assistance home!” Sunwoo shouts to his friend and neighbor. Jacob nods, ready to leave, getting drunk was never his favorite thing. Sunwoo gets up slinging his arm around Jacob for support, and the two boys say goodbye to their friends. “Get home safe loser and get some dick while you’re at it.”

“Fuck off!” Sunwoo laughs as he walks away with Jacob. Only me, the brother-sister pair, and Hyunjae were left. I sure as hell wasn’t about to leave while they were still here, I want to hang out more. The brother as if hearing my wish says it’s time they head home.

The two get up to leave and the girl looks visibly sad while I do a little dance in my head. I walk up to Hyunjae and he looks at me then stands up like he was waiting for me. When I hear them walk out the door I can feel a smile grow on my face. Finally, no more people.

“Ready to go back home?” I ask him.

“You’re going to walk me back? How romantic.”

“We live one apartment building away from each other, stop being dramatic.”

“But still I’m ha-” my eye dart towards the sound of the lounge room door opening and see the familiar girl closing the door behind her. I cover Hyunjae’s mouth with my hand while I use my other one, taking the back of his neck and pulling him closer to me. Our lips only separated by my hand. Surely it looked like we were kissing right now, Hyunjae’s body should cover up the fact that we aren’t. Just let your mind fill in the blanks girl.

A few seconds after I can hear the sound of the door opening and closing again and a high-pitched, “I’m sorry.” from the girl. I’m sorry too… actually no I’m not. I pull away from Hyunjae and he looks stunned.

“Did we just kiss?”

“No, we didn’t. You kiss my hand.”

“Oh.” My eyes were certainly deceiving me cause it looked like he was a little disappointed by my answer.

“Well, let go.” He hums in response and we walk out of the establishment. Suddenly he wraps his arm around me. This isn’t much of a surprise since he was a clingy drunk. The walk was quiet, which was unusual for Hyunjae, maybe he is tired

“Where is my present?”

“You realize that your present was the party bill, right? Do you know just how much you drank compared to everyone else? That shit wasn’t cheap.”

“Hehe, yeah that’s why I drank so much. You know as a broke college student free drinks taste a lot better than anything you pay for!”

“As a broke college student, you would know after that I wouldn’t be able to afford a normal present, so don’t complain.”

“Who said you had to buy the present? Even something small, as long as it’s from you.”

“Why are you like this?” This is really the man I’ve come to like. “Fine, I will do any one thing for you.” He is quiet for a while.

“Two.”

“One.”

“Two!”

“Okay, fine two!” he is silent again.

“Really anything?”

“Anything within reason. If you have a body hidden in your closet right now, I would go help you bury it.”

“Then… can I be your boyfriend for a day. If not then just for the rest of the day or just an hour...” I’m so dumbfounded by his words that I stop walking.

“Do you even know what you’re saying?” He pulls away from me.

“Is that a no then?”

“I… Hyunjae, do you… like me?” He nods. “As a friend?”

“Yes, but more than that. I want to hold you all the time, kiss, and more.” He brings his hand up to his face trying to hide his embarrassment. It did nothing to hide how red his ears became.

“I like you too.” Hyunjae perked up at my words. Now I was feeling embarrassed.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’ll accept your request.” He hugs me again as he did back at the party.

“Then my other request, can we go back to my place?”

“Are we going to do the “and more” stuff you were talking about?” He thinks for a moment and then goes red in the face.

“No! It’s too soon and I’m way too shit-faced right now anyway. I just want to hold you.”

“Good answer.”

***

In the apartment I was oh so familiar with, I lay in Hyunjae’s bed with his arms wrapped around me. My heart was pounding at first but I soon calmed, getting used to the new situation. The lights were off and we were ready to sleep. It was peaceful, but I had this one lingering question and worry in my head.

“Hyunjae?”

“Hmm?”

“Will you remember this in the morning?”

“Of course why would I forget?”

“Because you forgot that we kissed already.” Shocked by my words he shot up in his spot.

“We what?!”

“It was like a month ago. It’s whatever since you don’t remember.”

“...I’m sorry… was I good?”

“Shut up.” I pinch his side and he yelps.

“Okay jeez, I’m just joking. But is that when you started to like me?”

“Not exactly, but it did all develop from then. Why?”

“I’ve liked you for a long time and have been trying for almost a year to get you to notice me in that way. I didn’t expect you to say you liked me back, so I wanted to know when it changed. Ah, I’m glad I never gave up.” He laid back down, hugging me close again.

“Alright don’t kill me now,” he loosens his grip on me in response.

“Can I kiss you again? I promise I won’t forget this time.”

“Hmm, I think you’re fresh out of requests.” He pouts, which is just the look I wanted to see from him.

“I’m messing with you, but just a little bit. If you really remember when you wake up them I’ll let you kiss me more, as my real boyfriend.”

“I’m going to remember and then I’m going to kiss you so much you’ll get sick of my affection!”

“Uh-huh, let’s just see if you can keep your word.” We both lean into each other and kiss, soft and passionate.

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saturatedboy · 3 years

Note

Hey can you do a fic of Lady Alcina x GN!reader where the reader has ADHD so little things just gets forgotten and jumping topics so fast it’s kinda hard for Alcina at first and she’ll get frustrated but still loves the reader just how they are? If so that would be fantastic! Have a great day!!

Alcina Dimitrescu x GN!Reader

My apologise for taking a while, a thunder and lightning storm happened near me and it blew up the fuse to my internet box. But I'm here with more writing so I hope you enjoy!

Requests: Open

Words: 2.5k

The vast castle that had loomed over the Village of Shadows had always been ancient and portentous. The unknown creatures however that hovered over the sky close to the pole towers were always a great sight to see from the village. However, those who live far away from the castle merely thought to them to be birds with a wide wing span that would fly around and bless the castle with their saint fortune- however if you knew the castle and it's true owners, you would find everything to be more depraved of it's fake nature.

Humming softly, you dragged the wooden comb through your strands, being careful to not pull on any knotted ends too hard. You stared at the mirror with soft eyes, it had been quite the evening for you after the day being filled with lessons on acting like a true noble. You could hear the young ladies down the extended corridors, arguing over who would get the first drop of the sweetness a simple maid had once carried. Although not a vampire yourself, you strived yourself to be lucky amongst those who were caught in any of the young and head mistresses claws. Ah, the mistress. The simple thought of her had brought a rose tint to your cheeks, you smiling unconsciously as you let your mind wander off into far lands that were filled with no violence, only peace amongst the dammed. Only a sudden knock had transported you back into the real world. Coughing, you placed the comb down on the vanity and turned on your buffet, facing the door with hands folded on your lap. "You may enter," You spoke out loud, awaiting the turning of the knob.

The sound of slight clicking of the knob being turned brought your full attention to whoever was to enter. The door became ajar, then pushed to an opening with the guilty entering. A wide smile had stretched it's way onto your face as you stood to greet the one who knocked. Bowing your head slightly, you raised it to be met with the eyes of the lady of the castle, Alcina Dimitrescu. "My lady."

"My darling," She spoke back, closing the door behind her as she looked down upon your small form, however still slightly taller than her three daughters. Seeing your smile brought one onto her face, her eyes gleaming softly at your relaxed state. Looking around your neatly tided room, she let her eyes graze back over to yours and tilted her head to the side ever so slightly. "Why are you still awake? You should be asleep by now."

Awkwardly, you had bit your bottom lip and looked away in shame. Any of the pink fairy dust that was once coating your cheeks had turned deeper than the pinks in a sunset. "Well, my lady, you see I-" You had quickly cut yourself off. You weren't going to tell her that you was awake because you could hear the cries of the maid. And no you weren't going to tell her that she had been running on your mind either-

"Well?" She softly asked as she crossed her arms under her chest, placing herself to sit on the end of your bed as she watched you fiddle with your fingers with a long-lost look within your eyes.

"I'm just feeling energised." You saved yourself as you silently thanked your mind for quick thinking. Well, you weren't exactly lying but at the same time you had been because the cries of the maid had woken you from your slumber. Not wanting to get into any sort of trouble with the Lady. Lady Dimitrescu nodded in reply, not fully understand to why you would be energised after a long day of training to be a noble but none the less, she was glad you weren't hurt at all or hiding any sort of pain.

"Hm, I suppose that may makes sense. Though I don't remember you having any sort of sugary treats to be feeling so much energy to stay awake..." Dimitrescu had trailed of at the end, instantly becoming entranced when you had grabbed the comb once again and brushed through your hair. Tutting slightly, she stood and walked over to your sitting form, plucking the brush from your hand and using it to comb your hair for you. "Your combing wrongly, follow the flow of your hair- don't try to change it's path."

Feeling her gentleness as she combed through your hair had made you start to fidget in your seat. Although you loved the feeling of her hands caressing your hair, there was something about it that made you want to adventure further. You didn't want to stay here, no you couldn't. This wasn't right sitting here anymore. The feeling was so sudden- and you knew why. Arguing in your head, you dragged your mind away from the reality of the world into a blank space where you could try sort out these mixed emotions. However as you were away from the reality, your body had reacted on its own recordings. Your leg began to bounce with your hands intertwining with one another then letting go only for them to become fists. Without any thought of it, Alcina hadn't notice your sudden change in mood, she was too focused on trying to get a certain knot out of your hair.

Yourself on the other hand, was stuck fighting for movement or staying in place. It wasn't till the noise of wood being placed back onto your vanity and the hand that had blocked your view from the mirror that brought you away from your argument. Without a second thought, you stood abruptly and turned to face Alcina with a wide smile. "We should go for a stroll! The night will be young and I'm sure the young mistresses will be busy with their feeding tonight. How about it my Lady?" You held your hand out, your white tunic and grey pants had provided enough heat for you to want a walk in the breeze of the lost screams within the castle.

Alcina had looked at your hand, so small and doll-like. Holding your hand normally brought great warmth to her soul. The feeling of a human being alive and wanting to be close to her had always brought a soft, comforting feeling. And she had only felt that with you. So, wanting to feel the same feeling again she cupped your small hand within her own and used her other hand to straighten out her hat. "Lead the way my love."

Within no second to spare, you speed-walked out of your room and practically dragged the Lady behind you. Why were you so excited for a walk? She had no clue to what was exactly going on in your mind, she never understood what was on your mind but that was because she couldn't read you like an open book. She had always had people praise her like some Goddess which brought much pride to her, but seeing you hold her hand and walk with her like she was a regular person- maybe like what the children would do in the village when they found something interesting and wanted a parent to see it quickly- that what you had reminded her off. "My darling, aren't you going a little fast?" She asked, although having no problem keeping you with your speed, she found it unusual for you to be walking at this speed.

"Nope! Now come on, we have the castle to explore more of!" You giggled and and bopped your head side to side like you were listening to silent music. "Oh! When we explore the castle we should play hide and seek! Do you think the other girls would love to join, I'm sure they would! Ooo maybe you could teaching me how to sort out flowers to make a beautiful boutique like you had done once when Lady Beneviento was over!" Your rambled on about activities you both could do as you let go of Alcina's hand and walked off by yourself. Your stranded look had brought Alncia to be slightly worried about your change of state. Being quick, Alcina followed behind you keeping close tabs on trying to make out what you was saying since you were getting further ahead of her.

"Darling....Darling!" She called out as you kept walking onwards, twisting through the hallways and moving yourself out of the way for any maids that were walking around or cleaning the hallways. Alcina shook her head and sped walked to catch up to you so she could take swiftly your arm within her grasp to make you stop walking away from her. The sudden yank that she gave you made you lock your lips together and looked up at her over your shoulder. "Darling your speaking too quickly and mumbling half of it. Speak with a clear tone and articulation. I taught you this today before you went up to bed."

You looked at her with glossy eyes that held your innocence. Her figure over you had somewhat calmed your mind to rest, or maybe it was her touch- you couldn't decide on which. You focused on her hand around your arm, her fingers going back to her palm as her larger hands captured your arm within her grip- no movement could make you escape. You opened your mouth to speak up but your words were caught in your throat. Again you tried but only slight noises of struggle came out. Taking a deep breath, Alcina sighed out in annoyance and rolled her eyes. "Would you mind telling me what's going on. One minute your relaxed, the next your up and walking away like you have to catch a carriage. You're also changing your mind on what to do-Sweetie you said you wanted to go for a walk."

Trailing your eyes from her hand up her arm and peering at her face, you saw a clear look of her being stumped with your actions. Pulling your arm out of her grip, you cradled it close to your chest. "I'm sorry." Was all you could mutter before taking a deep breath in and out, steading your breathing after the fast walk you had travelled with. Leaning against the closest wall in the hallway, you swept strands out from your eyes and gazed down at the wooden floor with deep crimson carpets. "I've always been like this- It's something that is hard to control." You gathered the small courage to face her again, looking at her with a guilty stare.

Alcina patted her dress down as she heard your voice speak. She had no way in understanding why you act like this because this was the first time it happened so suddenly and well- she hadn't been a human for a very long time now. You remembered times before you came to the castle that down in the village you would take off through the woods to lose the energy you gained for no reason and speak to any animal life you could find. It was much more relaxing to talk to someone who couldn't say anything back- you couldn't interrupt anyone or get the harsh reply of 'Stay on a subject' because your mind jumped from one thing to another. That was actually how you met the Lady of the castle in the first place, and it was the first place you confessed your dying love to her. But now- everything happened without yourself even realising it was happening, you felt like the one to blame for putting the Lady in this position of following you about and practically making her own mind run in circles.

A delicate hand lifted your chin that had dropped to rest on your chest, a finger running along your bottom lip. The hand belonged to Alcina whom had knelt to the floor in front of you. "(Y/n)." She spoke your name with tenderness and a tone that would forever make your heart melt with affection. "You have nothing to be sorry for. If this is how you are, then I love you for who you are." She felt your lip quiver under her thumb, her other hand pulling you into her chest where soft sobs had came from your mouth. She held you close, humming a tune to calm you down. Your salty tears had wet her long white dress, but she didn't care. She cared for the fact that you had been dealing with something that had made you think you were in the wrong for feeling it. "If you wish to ramble about anything on your mind, go ahead. Tell me stories, tell me knowledge, tell me how you feel. I will listen to everything to have to say- even if it does get mixed up that's okay." With a vision blurred, you tilted your head up to look at her as yo used your hands to clear the spots of wetness of your face. "I may not be able to fully understand, but I chose to love you and that means anything that you come with is something I adore my dearest."

A chuckle escaped your lips as you felt her hand glide itself down under your arm and slightly tickle you. "W-wait that tickles-"

"Oh I know~" She whispered into your ear and she playfully picked you up in bridal style within her arms and began her own journey somewhere. Still watching her face and feeling her arms wrapped tightly around your form, you couldn't help but wonder what she was doing.

"Where are we going? Are we going outside or are we going back to my room?" You asked as you continued to clear your eyesight from the specks of fuzzy marks. Adjusting you in her arms slightly so she could instead carry you with your head resting on her shoulder as she held you under your behind and legs wrapped around her upper torso, she replied.

"We are going to find my three daughters and tonight as a family we shall play games. A game night. I figure we both could need one of those especially your hard work of being a noble." She kissed your cheek as she carried on walking, you on the other hand had tried to say something again but it came out with stutters.

"But what if I talk about something stupid or make a fool of myself. Maybe I might not be able to sleep and you need your rest m'lady,"

"Oh darling, I wouldn't sleep without knowing my precious dearest is safe and sound under my gaze. If you can't fall asleep still we shall sit by the fire in the main room and I'll read whatever you wish for." Her words were sincere. She was being truthful. She didn't need to know about your condition, she just understood that she will be there for you in your tightest moments and fit what is right for you. And anyway, she also loved your voice- it was secretly one of her favourite features about you. Why wouldn't she want to listen to you, anything to hear her dearest talk would make her heart swoon with love.

Only a love that she was willing to give to you.

#lady dimitrescu #castle dimitrescu #residentevil8 #resident evil x reader #alcina dimitrescu #alcina x reader #resident evil dimitrescu #oneshot #gender neutral s/o #lady alcina dimitrescu #lady alcina x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader

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