#FRAGILE TO WRITE A LONG FIC MYSELF SO I’LL DO WHAT I CAN TO INSPIRE OTHERS TO MAKE SAID FICS

[stealingyourbones]

Short DPXDC Prompts #296

Tim talks about a boyfriend and it takes The Bats a tad to realize that this guy isn’t Connor. Mentions of powers that Connor doesn’t have and likes & dislikes that Connor doesn’t have. The Bats are concerned that Tim is cheating on Kon when Tim actually was just an idiot and thought he already told his family that he’s dating Danny.

[dkniade]

do you have any ships (or if not, best genshin character dynamics) (from welcometoteyvat)

I’ve had this in my drafts for quite a long time and since I’ve written up the answer already, might as well post them

——

I like a few ships but I don’t think I’ll necessarily make (much) ship content myself. Most likely I’ll just write platonic stuff haha. I do have lots of platonic character dynamics I like too. 

Seems like this is gonna be long since I got inspired and wrote some snippets, and there are quite a lot of dynamics. I also have some fic recommendations here and there. Allow me to ramble about them, haha

Spoilers for some backstories ahead!

Characters and Pairs

romantic ship: Albether, KaeLuc, XiaoVen, KaeBedo, AlbeLuc

platonic dynamics: Nameless Bard and Venti; Shenhe and Yun Jin; Kaeya and Tartaglia (main team); Il Capitano and Tartaglia; Venti and Albedo; Kaeya and Bennett (main team); Albedo, Dorian (Subject 2), Fellflower, and Rhinedottir

For ships—

Albether. 

It’s fun to see how two people not of Teyvat find each other and understand each other in this quiet yet intelligent way. Albedo’s curiosity towards Aether is nice to think about. And Aether’s kindness will surely reach Albedo’s lonely heart as well, even if he doesn’t understand a lot of what Albedo is saying. Aether is the heart and Albedo is the brain, so I think he can teach Albedo what it means to be a human, patiently, and Albedo might actually listen seeing that they both are “peculiar” people, as he puts it. Plus, Paimon can join in on the conversation too. I wrote a (platonic) fic around the themes of understanding and heart vs brain, emotion vs logic.

“Clear Sediments Beneath Loneliness”

KaeLuc. 

The two have a ton of tension and complexity in their relationship. I feel that before they even start exploring the romantic side of it, they should make up and forgive each other and themselves first… Diluc should be nicer to Kaeya and give him some positive attention… The dude needs love… 

But since they’ve been partners for so long before Crepus’ death and they still kept working together after it (e.g. during the Black Fire Incident in the manga), generally sharing information to achieve their goal of protecting Mondstadt, I think they’ll be even stronger if they make up and start to work together publically again. Come sunshine or rain, Mondstadt is in good hands thanks to these two. They should also work on their possible fear of the rain and each other's elements. 

But you know, conflict is what makes stories interesting, so I’d love to see how these two personalities clash and compliment each other despite everything. This pair’s got a lot of potential in a lot of genres.

Fic recommendation. I like comforting quiet fics where characters talk about their feelings. A while ago I read “Hazy Days (Bottled Up)” by imitationicarus, a Kaeya and Diluc (relationship up to interpretation) hurt/comfort fic with 1867 words. It takes place in Angel’s Share, where Kaeya has anxiety and is hearing voices, and Diluc comforts him in his own quiet way. While I don’t read fics very often, it’s still one of my favourite Kaeya and Diluc fics because of the dialogue and inner thoughts. Here’s an excerpt:

But Kaeya would not release his fragile guard so easily. “That’s a good story you’ve spun there, but I’m afraid that’s not true. I just like the flavor.”

Kaeya met Diluc’s gaze, and for the first time, he saw something there—a fire, flickering embers not hot enough to burn, but hot enough to keep warm. To help survive in a harsh and bitter winter.

(Though, I admit, I’ve been avoiding Kaeya and Diluc stuff lately ‘cause of exhaustion and just wanting to see something different, haha)

XiaoVen. 

Recently I realized that “outcast and storyteller” dynamic I like so much is basically XiaoVen lmao. I’m not very familiar with Xiao’s character (haven’t yet gone through his quest), so apologies if I mischaracterize him… But I think Xiao’s distrust, vigilance, and darkness contrasts Venti’s friendliness, peacefulness, and overall lighthearted personality very well. 

Music is a powerful thing, so I want to see the two sitting on top of Juejun Karst, looking down at the stone forest and Liyue Harbour in the distance, with nothing but the crisp sound of a Dihua flute piercing the misty air. Or maybe Xiao can sit at the balcony of Wangshu Inn on a night with the full moon, and a cool breeze would blow through his hair accompanied by the sound of a flute somewhere. I like the idea of Xiao and Venti spending some peaceful time together under the full moon.

KaeBedo. 

How could I forget, haha. Two highly intelligent knight captains of Khaenri’ahn descent, yet one deals with lies and the other deals with the truth, both withholding vital information about themselves and having serious issues on abandonment and receiving love. Kaeya thinks if he tells the truth about himself, he’ll be rejected and abandoned, while Albedo thinks if he doesn’t find the truth about the world and himself, he’ll be rejected and abandoned. Now if they trust each other and find in each other a confidante… 

“Kaeya, you know I seek for the truth above all else. I won’t force you to tell me if you’re not ready, but if you’d like someone to listen… I’ll be here.”

“Haha, reliable as always, Kreideprinz. I’ll consider your offer. You, on the other hand… Let me tell you a secret.”

“Go ahead.”

“It’s not necessary to offer your everything in the pursuit of affection. We… are all flawed in our own ways.”

“Hm. I’ll keep that in mind.”

They even have similar colour schemes (indigo, black, white, gold) but with different ratios to reflect their morals and personalities: Albedo’s dominant colours are white and gold, Kaeya’s dominant colours are black and indigo… Plus, all the Khaenri’ah star motifs on their outfits, and the symbolisms in their eyes. Kaeya’s got a star-shaped pupil and Albedo’s eyes reflect the symbol on the alchemy table. They also have a lot to hide from their respective Pyro-affiliated sibling/sworn sibling, so that’s another thing they can bond together over, I guess? 

I have another fic recommendation:

romantic slow burn KaeBedo, “Casading (In a good way)” by Hubbleablubble, with the headcanon of (trans man) Khaenri’ahn Royalty Kaeya. Subtle hints are scattered across the fic but once the dots connect, there was a lightbulb moment for me. At 14009 words, this high quality slow burn fic from Albedo’s point of view absolutely ripped my heart out with its elegant wording and unsaid thoughts. 

You’ll find Albedo’s winding trains of thought, Kaeya and Albedo slowly getting to know each other, a beautifully described fight scene, moments of quietness and emotional intimacy here and there, and heartfelt internal monologues. Here’s an excerpt from around the beginning:

He hums his thanks, and nearly starts when he looks up to meet his fellow captain’s gaze.

He’s never seen him this close before. A lone star blazes in a pool of blue. It burns into him, the affable twinkle belying a cold intensity. Albedo’s mind supplies him with an image of Rhinedottir, who’s eyes, while a baleful bronze, were much the same.

Oh.

Well. He supposes there may be more to the quartermaster than he’d assumed.

AlbeLuc. 

Alright so this one was specifically due to @/brotato_chibs and @parvaillust on Instagram for making lots of nice AlbeLuc art. (Please check them out! Chibs also does a lot of Albedo in general along with Subject 2!) Rather than forcing romance onto the two, their AlbeLuc is portrayed with mutual respect, stability, and kindness (though not without some friendly teasing). It’s very cute… 

I like the sense of formality from both Albedo and Diluc… It’s a very quiet but stable kind of trust, knowing that despite their pasts, they’ve found someone they can rely on. Of course, if Albedo is corrupted and goes against Mondstadt, I don’t think Diluc can take that seeing he’s already gone through a betrayal from Kaeya…

ALRIGHT NOW FOR NON-SHIP DYNAMICS— There’s a lot! Please bear with me!

I like platonic versions of the ships I just mentioned, but also—

Nameless Bard and Venti.

When I say “outcast and storyteller” I mean I’m very weak for the idea of “I’ll tell your tale for all to hear so you’ll always be remembered” and I think these two started that love for the trope. Symbolism and remembrance in names is a very meaningful topic for me… I like that the nameless bard doesn’t have an official name, so fans can come up with whatever symbolic names they’d like. The idea of Venti taking his friend’s appearance to “travel the world in his name and image” and the whole “when they praise the Anemo Archon’s name, it’s you who deserves it all, not I” is also very dear to me. 

Recommendation: This comic by @popping-greenbean’s expresses that pretty well, featuring a shapeshifting Morax, subtle expressions, and flowing pencil strokes as free as the wind.

I want to see Venti write ballads praising his friend… But speaking of, here’s another recommendation:

The Venti fan song “Last Words” by Circus-P, featuring Fukase and Len Kagamine. The tale of a young bard, of fallen tyranny, and of the bright lure of freedom carried on by the archaic winds. Stay until the end of the song for a surprise. I’m pretty sure this was a huge push in my starting the game. Here’s the refrain:

May the winds carry forth

My soul when I’m gone

May the harsh of the storm 

Never linger for long

May the birds ever fly 

Where their journey leads them

May the lands and the skies 

Be ever blessed with freedom

Shenhe and Yun Jin.

Outcast and storyteller, Liyue immortal/mortal version. More legends, more isolation, more faithful storytellers. When I first watched the PV for “神女劈观” (”The Legend of the Girl Who Split the Altar”, officially known as “The Divine Damsel of Devastation”) I nearly felt like crying over the music and lyrics and visuals, especially at the extended chorus which I didn’t expect. I’m weak for extended choruses with a key change and new lyrics… I can’t really say much about the characters’ dynamics because I don’t know them well, but the idea of a Yun Jin who holds onto tradition while wanting to append a new verse onto an old tale to give Shenhe the happy ending she deserves is very nice… Also, I like that visually, Yun Jin’s design is very colourful and eye-catching while Shenhe’s design is more black and white and gives off a more solitary air.

Kaeya and Tartaglia.

The potential they have together in my main team because of their high positions in their respective organizations and their clashing personalities of hidden agendas vs head-on fights is interesting! A scheming and manipulative strategist amidst the ranks of the (at least outwardly) righteous Knights of Favonius contrasts the confident and outgoing warrior within the shady ranks of the Fatui, but it just wouldn’t be as fun if they both take the style of their respective organizations… They’re both “outcasts” from their organizations, so maybe they see their colleges in each others’ personalities, in a way. Though, I wonder would Kaeya make a better Fatui Harbinger, and Tartaglia, a Knights of Favonius Captain, haha… 

Tartaglia: Ah, Captain Kaeya! I’ve seen him in battle. His mastery over the Cryo element is truly amazing. But instead of using that power, he always hides behind the scenes, thinking about whatever plans he’s got in that head of his… I can never understand him well. Whatever. I’d gladly fight for him, whether he needs me on the front lines or not. As long as he doesn’t directly oppose the Tsaritsa, I’ll follow him into battle anytime.

Kaeya: Tartaglia… He’s willing to follow my plans, no questions asked. How interesting… But he is rather impulsive. Still, he’s quite obedient towards me… for a Harbinger. I wonder, just how far is he willing to go for the Tsaritsa, and how far is he willing to go… for me?

Il Capitano and Tartaglia. 

Something about a lower-ranking Harbinger being eager and going (in Capitano’s POV) “Pwease fight me, s-sir!!” to the menacing-looking Harbinger in a helmet is so funny to me. It really puts into perspective how much Tartaglia stands out against the rest of the Harbingers in his methods and personality! And how he’s the youngest.

Venti and Albedo.

Hear me out. Albedo is a talented artist, Venti is a bard whose appearance honours the Nameless Bard, put the two together, and I’m sure the artist and the model would get along. And the Traveler or maybe Master Diluc will pay for the portrait.

“Oh, the talented Master Albedo! Won’t you please draw a portrait of me?”

“Of course. But… Why the sudden request?”

“Ehe, isn’t wanting to see a portrait of me sketched by the best artist of Mondstadt enough of a reason?”

“‘Best artist’… You speak of me too highly, Master Venti. But very well. I will do a sketch of you.”

“Is it ready? Lemme see!”

“Here. I tried to capture the effect the flowing wind had on your braids and cape. As always, the winds are ever changing, so I couldn’t sketch out all the details. Please forgive the looseness of—”

“It’s beautiful… You’ve truly captured his— I mean, my visage well.”

“Is that so…? Your form is elegant, Master Venti. I merely sketched down what I saw.”

“You did a great job. I’ll treasure this sketch, Master Kreideprinz~”

But at the same time, the God of Freedom and a homunculus from the land of sinners who had little autonomy for most of his life… It could be a comforting thing.

“Kreideprinz, the one born from chalk… Your Art of Khemia is formidable, and of course I grant the people of Mondstadt the freedom to do whatever they’d like, but…”

“I understand. Should I lose control one day… Can I ask you to stop me?”

“Well, let’s just enjoy the present peace, shall we, Albedo? Your freedom is yours. What would you like to become?”

“…”

“Is the great chief alchemist at a loss for words?”

“I’m afraid… I don’t know the answer to your question. I’m sorry.”

“No, it takes time to find who you are. Some people are still searching, to this day.”

“And is that allowed?”

“Of course. Everyone should live their life the way they want to live. To live for someone else’s dreams… can sometimes be a painful thing.”

“…”

“What’s on your mind, Kreideprinz?”

“I didn’t know I was allowed to do so.”

“To do what?”

“To live life… for myself.”

Kaeya and Bennett (main team).

Here’s the thing. I think Kaeya sees a lot of his younger self in Bennett (misfortunate, casted aside from his peers, has father figures, self-deprecating while lifting others up, etc) so I believe he’d be a great team captain and encourage Bennett, telling him how important his role in the team is. They’ve got pretty similar swordsmanship in their Normal Attacks too, so I like the headcanon that Kaeya taught Bennett swordsmanship too. 

Bennett makes self-deprecating jokes and Kaeya finally realizes how he might’ve been to others when he slipped up and made jokes himself in the past, so in that sense, he can care for Bennett and indirectly improve himself and his confidence.

And now, angst. Bennett brings misfortune, right? He’s a Pyro sword user who blames himself for rain, right??

Kaeya. Pyro sword. Rain.

Now imagine the fear and panic that surges through Kaeya as the sight of a blurry figure with a flaming sword in the rain triggers his past trauma from his Vision fight against Diluc. That’s what I’m talking about!!! He panics, he steps back, he tries to cover up with jokes, but Bennett senses it and internalizes the blame onto himself. The hurt. The misunderstanding. And to a kid nonetheless, not Kaeya’s own peer.

Kaeya, how are you gonna react to this conflict in the rain for the third time? And how are you gonna mend it?

Albedo, Dorian (Subject 2), Fellflower, and Rhinedottir.

DID YOU THINK I WASN’T GONNA TALK ABOUT THESE FOURRR HHH cries

The setting and ideas stirred up by Shadows Amidst Snowstorms!! Hear me out!! The one-sided rivalry between Albedo and Dorian as the unknowing perfect version and the “failure” prototype… THE WAY THE REVEAL WAS FORESHADOWED IN THE STARSILVER QUALITY LINES AND ALBEDO REPAINTING THE TRAVELER’S PAINTING OF PAIMON IS SO GOOD. THE SYMBOLISM. GOD I love it.

And Rhinedottir… DAMN IT, RHINEDOTTIR. THINK. What did she have to do for Albedo and Dorian to turn out like this? A highly intelligent recluse who fears rejection, and another one who straight up refers to himself (under the guise of talking about Starsilver quality) as useless??

“There’s something I’ve always wanted to ask you, but feared rejection and disappointment…”

--Albedo, “Something to Share”

“Useless things should be disposed of at the outset.”

--Dorian, “The Snowy Past”

…Y’know, a lot of things can be interpolated from a character’s well-written dialogue, both in what they say and what they leave out.

[graymatters]

easter eggs

I was tagged by @softlystarstruck to share bits of myself that I’ve tucked away in my fics. Though I can’t cite every moment where Draco has anxiety and where Harry wants to run away from structured society (guilty as charged for self-inserts) there are a couple other tidbits I’ve pulled from real life that I can share. I’ve included a ton in an anon fest, unfortunately, but we can talk more once that’s over and done 😉

🎇 From Men of Routine: 

Every morning, Harry finds Draco in the tattered velvet chair at the front window of Grimmauld Place. On the day Draco moved in, he strode through the front door, boxes and bags levitating neatly behind him. One box, denoted as fragile in a loopy script, fell from the air when Draco caught sight of Harry shrinking the armchair for the trash. “What in Salazar’s name are you doing?” he’d asked, eyes wide in disbelief. “It’s an antique; you can’t just toss it in the bin like a crumpled napkin.”

Draco spent a few days reading up on furniture restoration spells, and before long, the chair was good as new, no longer splitting at the seams and its deep cerulean velvet, smooth and unstained. A couple of decades later, that chair is still a staple of Draco’s morning routine. Occasionally, when he’s feeling a bit prickly, he likes to remind Harry that he almost threw it away.

I poured a bit of myself into this Draco and his morning routine in a velvet chair. I own a velvet chair (although mine is green) in which I spend every morning drinking my coffee and scrolling aimlessly. I wanted Draco to know that peace, too, cause I feel he’s earned it. This chair also pops up in Making Lemonade, and it’s actually the right color in that one.

🎇 From Love Like Ghosts

“Cinnamon bun?”

“Where have you been? Thought you skipped out on me. And where in Salazar’s name did you get those?”

“While you were getting your beauty sleep, I decided to be productive with my time. Quite selfless of me, I’m aware. Baked them from scratch. Yeast and everything.”

“Where did you actually get them?”

“Molly gave me a load of them at dinner last night.”

“The truth will set you free.”

“Do you want one or not?”

“Does the Pope shit in his hat?”

“What?”

“I don’t know, I heard it on the telly the other day. But yes, Harry. I would love a cinnamon bun.”

I stole the ‘Does the Pope shit in his hat’ line from my husband who stole it from Hank in Breaking Bad. The husband’s been quoting it regularly for over a decade now with no signs of stopping, and somehow I keep laughing.

I can’t really pick anything else that’s obvious like these, I think because I use writing as a means to go somewhere else for a while. But! I almost always listen to music while I write, and I tend to draw on the songs for vibes/inspiration. I snuck in a line from The 1975′s Paris in Midnight Rides, I wrote a drabble inspired by a song from Be More Chill because I’d been listening to that song for two weeks straight. Making Lemonade was a product of a week of Glass Animals’ last album, and Golden Hour was from a Kasey Musgraves kick. Oddly, I listened to Milk and Honey by Billie Martin for the vibes on NFWMB, but switched to Hozier towards the end. So though pieces of real life may not be frequent, you can almost always tell what I’ve been listening to at the time.

I feel like nearly everyone and their brother has been tagged, and I’ve not really been on Tumblr much this week so apologies for double tags. (If you already did this, tag me so I can see!) But I’ll tag @sweet-s0rr0w, @shesapeachsconebob, @gallifrey1sburning, @andithiel @bubble-gumhead, and @floydig. 

[glmfic]

hi!!! I love your fic (ghost hunters, lies & money) so so much!! oh and for the ask game, 🧑💎💡📒🎤 please. have a lovely day/night!

An ask? Aww, thank yoooou!!! :D

favorite character to write

Ooooh, good question! I love writing each member of our SPR team for different reasons, buuut... if I *had* to pick...I think I have the most fun writing Bou-san? He's just so spontaneous! His antics and wise cracks are just such a joy to incorporate into a scene. I feel like he springs to life in my head, and I'm just along for the ride. But then there's a side of him that's so passionate, and caring, and gentle...in case you can't tell, his dynamic with Mai is one of my very favorites to write <3 Ah, I have so much love for our Monk :)

fave trope to write

Ho ho ho, I'm a trope queen. You'll probably see them weaved all through my writing I hope you like tropes loool :D Picking one to rise above them all? Partners (work/school) to lovers. That “mutual pining” vibe is my thiiing. You know, they see each other everyday in a very ordinary way (or in some cases in very intense situations, like say...life or death ghost hunting? ^_^) and slowly grow accustom to each other, learn their likes/dislikes, their quirks...accepting them (you know you gotta work to make the partnership work right?), until they don't just accept them...they loooove them <3 They live in this “some” state: something is going on, but it's so quiet or fragile they don't name it. They just keep letting grow, and things like no-personal-space and “casual” touching start to happen. Oh wow. I could go on and on. But yes, partners to lovers. That's my ultimate trope I think! I mean: Mairu anyone? ;)

what inspires your fic ideas?

Oh gosh, I don't think I've ever been asked this? Good one! Let me think...well, inspiration alone can be very hard to come by. I have to say the reason my GLM chapters get put out is 90% because my readers inspire me to keep going, and when I'm in that “inspired” state...the ideas just seem to start flowing? It's so very hard-- for me at least-- to write without some sort of inspiration, either from my readers, or from the content it's self. That kind of leads me to the more conventional answer to this question: usually my ideas are inspired from the content I'm writing for. I love writing missing scenes or alternate scenes from canon-- especially in giving them a shippy angle/twist :) I love re-imagining whole storylines, or endings. I am a fix-it-fic kind of girl. Like make it as bad you want: I will make it better. With content I love, I always feel like the characters are living their lives behind the scenes...like there's always so much else to explore? Like canon is just a spring board-- and I'm ready to dive in deeper! That's why the style of GLM is like it is: it's a new “episode” to enjoy, a new case! I actually have many plot bunnies kicking around that are similar to GLM, more Ghost Hunt case fics-- I just love playing with “what if”...what if things had continued-- what would that look like for SPR? And of course, you can count on *my* what ifs always including shippy prospects :D Finally, inspiration for certain scenes, tropes, quotes, storylines, characters, ect... often those come from my consumption of all the swoony media I can get my hands on. Kdramas. Rom-com movies. Jane Austen. I'm a hopeless romantic.

any fics planned?

The short answer: yes! :D As I hinted above, I do have some plot bunnies that have been “haunting” (hahaha) me. They're Ghost Hunt plot bunnies, mostly case-fic that would be multi-chapter projects. But some shippy one-shots have also been winking at me, teasing me to write them (Mairu, Bou-san x Ayako, John x Masako *gasps*, Lin x Madoka). I have a document that I use to collect all my ideas, so that I can go back to them. For now, I'm trying to stay loyal to GLM. I write so slow, I'm afraid if I took some of that time to churn out one-shots...I may never get a new chapter out XD But anywho, yes I definitely have other fics planned. I hope once GLM is finished, you might continue with me on new writing adventures with our SPR team <3

fave line in a fic you wrote?

I'm blushing. I don't think I could pick a line? But I do have favorite scenes! Mainly Mairu ones, but some of those Mai and Bou-san ones...oh my gosh, I even crack myself up XD I'll round up some of my top faves for you:

Mai and Naru at the end of chapter 23. All that Mairu goodness after the “blood rain”, standing at the sink together...face-to-face arguing out of worry...oh,yeah. [chef's kiss]

Mai and Bou-san in chapter 11 & 12. Chicken and apples, need I say more? looool

Mai and Naru at the end of chapter 19 after Wise Obasan has locked them in Miss Miyuki's cellar...and Naru carries Mai out of the house (in front of the whole world!!), all the way to the Inn, and tops it off with admitting he gave Mai his moon lily. Dang. [fans self]

Naru's return in chapter 27. After such a long wait, he shows up at the end of chapter all disheveled and hot and like steals Mai's tea (indirect kiss!!) and then he and Mai have it out in the hall (just kiss already) and finally it looks like he's going to kiss her but oops he's actually fainting...

Ayako & Bou-san taking care of Mai while she was sick in chapter 20, oh gosh it always warms my heart I just love their family dynamic <333

Okay: throwing in a John!Masako moment here, but it really is one of my favorites. It's subtle, because of course, but also in chapter 23, the moment where John so gallantly throws himself over Masako during the “blood rain”, protecting her. Awwww!

More recently, the scene at the end of chapter 30 where Naru walks in on Mai's “séance” with Madame Miyuki. The intensity!! The english!! Oh maaan.

And finally, naturally-- the scene in chapter 31 where Naru nearly makes Mai flip out when he offers to “take it off” but haha it's just the tag on her dress, but then it's sad hours and Mai is crying, but don't worry because Naru wipes them away?! Ahhh the tenderness!!

Goodness wow I went overboard, but really just thank you for this ask! Your love and support means so much to me!! Really!!

[sapphireglyphs]

[ bangtan short fic series ] jjk (feat. myg)

» Yᴏᴜʀ Vᴏɪᴄᴇ | ᴊᴊᴋ  sᴏʟᴏ ᴍᴜsɪᴄɪᴀɴ!ᴀᴜ (ғᴇᴀᴛ. ᴍʏɢ)   

Gᴇɴʀᴇ/Tᴀɢs: sʟɪᴄᴇ-ᴏғ-ʟɪғᴇ, ᴛɪɴʏ ʙɪᴛ ᴏғ ᴀɴɢsᴛ, ᴍɪɴ ʏᴏᴏɴɢɪ ɪs ᴀ ʀᴀᴅɪᴏ ʜᴏsᴛ, ɴᴏ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢs, ɪɴᴠᴏʟᴠᴇs ᴀ ʀᴀᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴄᴋ/ɪʟʟ ʏ/ɴ sᴏ ɪғ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪs ᴛʀɪɢɢᴇʀɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ... ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ sᴋɪᴘ ᴛʜɪs ᴏɴᴇ?, ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜɪs ᴏɴᴇ ɪs ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ʜᴀʀᴍʟᴇss, ʏᴏᴏɴᴋᴏᴏᴋ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅsʜɪᴘ ғᴛᴡ

Rᴀᴛɪɴɢ: ᴘɢ

Wᴏʀᴅ Cᴏᴜɴᴛ: ~1.5K

Sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Jᴜɴɢᴋᴏᴏᴋ ɢᴇᴛs ɪɴᴠɪᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ ʜɪs ʟᴏɴɢ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ Mɪɴ Yᴏᴏɴɢɪ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴏᴛᴇ ʜɪs ɴᴇᴡ ᴀʟʙᴜᴍ ᴏɴ ʜɪs ᴡɪᴅᴇʟʏ ᴘᴏᴘᴜʟᴀʀ ʀᴀᴅɪᴏ sʜᴏᴡ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴇᴛs ᴀ ᴠᴇʀʏ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇsᴛɪɴɢ ᴄᴀʟʟ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴀ ғᴀɴ.

Aᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's Nᴏᴛᴇ: ᴏʜᴍʏɢᴏsʜ, ᴏᴋᴀʏ, sᴏ ᴛʜɪs ɪs ᴍʏ ғɪʀsᴛ ғᴏʀᴀʏ ɪɴᴛᴏ Bᴀɴɢᴛᴀɴ ғᴀɴғɪᴄ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ sᴏ ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ʙᴇ ᴋɪɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ. Iᴛ ʜᴏɴᴇsᴛʟʏ ᴡᴀs sᴜᴘᴘᴏsᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛʜɪs ᴛɪɴʏ 500 ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ sᴘɪʀᴀʟᴇᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏғ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪs ɪɴ ғʀᴏɴᴛ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴏᴡ. Tʜɪs ɪs sᴛɪʟʟ ᴜɴᴇᴅɪᴛᴇᴅ; I'ᴍ ʜᴏᴘɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ɢɪᴠᴇ ɪᴛ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴡʜᴇɴ I ɢᴇᴛ ʜᴏᴍᴇ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴛᴏᴍᴏʀʀᴏᴡ. Iғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴄᴜʀɪᴏᴜs ᴀs ᴛᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴠᴇʀsɪᴏɴ ᴏғ "Sᴛɪʟʟ Wɪᴛʜ Yᴏᴜ" I ᴛᴏᴏᴋ ɪɴsᴘɪʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ғʀᴏᴍ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ғᴏʟʟᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɴᴋ ʜᴇʀᴇ! Pʟᴇᴀsᴇ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪs ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ғɪᴄʟᴇᴛ ᴏғ ᴍɪɴᴇ... I'ᴍ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ɪᴍᴘʀᴏᴠᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ sᴏ ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ sʜᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛs ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ! Eɴᴊᴏʏ 💜 

“We’re back on in 2 minutes.” 

Jungkook shifted in his seat with a toothy grin. “I wouldn’t go so far as to call myself a ‘producer’...” the singer-songwriter trailed off bashfully. 

“But that’s what this album was: self-produced. Your first, in fact.” Yoongi countered.

The young artist didn’t deny the fact, knowing that his old friend had already slipped back into his radio host persona, even before the one minute standby was called. It seemed that, at least for the time being, Yoongi didn’t press the issue but simply followed up with, “What’s something you’ve been working on that’s been giving you trouble lately?”

Jungkook tilted his head slightly as he thought. His overgrown bangs fringed across his bottom eyelashes, giving him a rebellious devil-may-care aura, which would have made Yoongi roll his eyes if the younger man was actually anything like that in person. The radio host knew that under that edgy haircut and emo hipster attire, Jungkook was still that soft, shy kid from Busan with big round eyes and an even bigger heart. 

He was glad to see his friend was still the same guy in all the ways that mattered. 

“There is this one particular track that I have a vague concept and melody for but-” Jungkook’s response was cut off by one of the producers calling the 30 second standby.

Yoongi, still relaxed as ever, pressed for him to continue, “But-?” 

“Oh, uhm, but the lyrics are still eluding me.” Jungkook finally murmured, fidgeting with his bracelet absentmindedly. 

The host nodded sympathetically as he pushed a few buttons on the console in front of him before turning his head slightly to the window where the staff members were monitoring the phone lines and the clock as the show returned from its commercial break. “Welcome back to the show, everybody. I’m your host, DJ Suga with the sweet voice from Honey FM 06.13. My guest is the one and only Jeon Jungkook here to promote his brand new, self produced EP “Mixtape 1”. His single “My Time” was released earlier today and it seems as though the response is already overwhelmingly positive. Producer Jungkook?” Yoongi pauses for dramatic effect before quickly continuing, “Would you like to take some calls from your fans? I can see the switchboard lighting up like fireworks. What do you say, huh? Shall we take some calls?” 

Jungkook simply chuckled at Yoongi’s subtle ‘producer’ jab, ducking his head in embarrassment. "Yeah, let's get it." 

“We have Minnie on the line. Hi, Minnie, you’re on the air with DJ Suga and Jeon Jungkook.” Yoongi said.

“Oh my gosh! Hi DJ Suga! Hi Jungkook!” a cheerful voice filtered in through the headsets, “I’m in love with “My Time”. The lyrics seem so sad even if the song sounds so upbeat. What inspired you to write a song like this?”

Jungkook replied, “Thank you so much for liking the song. It’s a very personal piece to me and it means a lot to hear that fans are reacting so positively to the track.” He took a deep breath before continuing, “When I had set out to create this song, I had wanted to be as honest and authentic as possible with the lyrics while still staying true to my original vision for the song which was basically a bittersweet look at the last few years of my life and what it means to me as a young musician. I believe instead of seeing the lyrics as something sad, I see it as simply living life. Life has ups and downs, there are sacrifices but even greater rewards. A give and take, if you will.”

“Poignant.” Yoongi responded, “Thank you for calling in Minnie. Next caller we have is Ken. Ken you’re on the air with DJ Suga and Jungkook.”

“Hi guys. I just wanted to say that I really love both of your albums, Jungkook. “Euphoria” is on repeat daily for me.” a warm, tenor voice insisted on the other end. “When will we be able to hear you live in concert again?”

Jungkook gave a grateful smile and bowed unconsciously, almost hitting his head on the microphone in front of him. “Thank you so much for your support. I’m hoping to go on tour very soon, so please look out for tour dates on the official website. Until then, please enjoy ‘Mixtape 1’.” 

Yoongi efficiently thanked Ken for calling in and pulled up the next call in the queue, “Hi Y/N, you’re on the air with DJ Suga and Jungkook.”

There was silence on the other end. 

Unfazed, Yoongi tried again, “Y/N? You’re on the air.”

The unnerving silence permeated the air and just as Yoongi was going to move on to the next caller, a soft voice pierced through the quiet, “Hello? I-is it really you, Jungkook?”

Jungkook scooted forward into his chair. “Yes, hello.”

“I wanted to let you know that I truly love listening to you sing. Your voice is so beautiful and full of emotion. You truly have a gift...” There was a pregnant pause before the fragile voice rasped, “But I’m not sure how much longer I can stay to listen to you.”

Both host and guest were taken aback by the peculiar response but Jungkook recovered quickly and said, “Why do you say that? It isn't that late. Are you getting tired already?”

“I’m always tired nowadays.” The silence was heavy. When the voice returned, it seemed strained, as though simply speaking was becoming too difficult a task to bear. “Your songs used to be a source of such strength for me… but I’ve come to accept that it isn't going to be enough anymore. You see… I'm not doing too well.”

As the weight of the words sat palpable in the studio, Yoongi could see the panic in Jungkook’s eyes as he began to piece together what the caller was implying. Before he could jump in to save his friend though, the young musician simply asked, “How can I help?”

The voice returned this time with a quiet strength that masked the slight quiver of desperation, “Would it be too much if I could hear you sing for me… one last time?”  

Jungkook looked up at Yoongi, his mind racing with a million thoughts. His eyes flickered to the radio host’s black guitar that hung on the wall behind his booth. Standing to his feet with resolve, Jungkook strode over to the guitar and carefully pulled it down from it’s hooks. He turned to Yoongi. “Hyung? Would you mind?” 

Yoongi didn’t even blink. “Go for it, Jungkookie.”

Nodding his thanks, Jungkook made his way back to his seat and spoke softly into the microphone, “Y/N, please forgive me if this song is a bit on the rougher side as it’s still a work in progress.”

“I understand.” 

Upon hearing a reply from the other end of the line, Jungkook closed his eyes in relief. He didn’t realize he had waited for that response with bated breath. 

He began strumming a few cords before tweaking the guitar just a bit. “Now here’s the deal: I’ll be happy to sing this for you but you got to promise me that you’ll listen well to the very end, okay?” 

“I will.” 

Jungkook closed his eyes. Giving himself over to the music, his calloused fingers found its rhythm and began to strum a simple cord before taking a deep breath and allowing the song to take shape...

That faint voice of yours that grazed me Please call my name one more time I’m standing still under the frozen light, but I will walk towards you, step by step Still with you

Yoongi sat back, too stunned to actually respond to anything that had actually transpired over the course of the next few minutes as Jungkook began to croon over the gentle strum of his guitar, an acoustic ballad of longing and loneliness. Despite the lyrics holding such sadness in its tone, the song ends hopeful of a day where the vocalist could meet again with the person they had longed for. Yoongi imagines the final studio version of the song would sound nice with a piano in the mix, brushed drums for a percussion piece and maybe even some tinkling synths for character. Either way, he’s pretty sure he had just witnessed the creation of another major hit for the younger musician.    

The moon looks lonely Like it's crying in the bright night sky Even though I always know the morning will come I want to stay in your sky like a star

As the song wound down, the studio erupted into cheers, from the staff and Yoongi alike. Jungkook bowed politely before he spoke into the microphone, “So, Y/N, what did you think?”

There was no reply from the other end of the line. Yoongi looked towards the booth where the producers sat behind the glass window and took their nods as a sign that the line was still open. 

“Y/N?” Jungkook repeated. “Don’t leave me hanging now. We had a deal. Are you still there?” 

There was a beat of agonizing silence before a sniffle could be heard from the other end of the line. “Yes, Jungkook... I’m still here.”

[idlecreature]

the buried fic comment from hell (it's so long i'm SO SORRY, I GOT EXCITED)

DEL.. I WASN’T SURE IF IT WAS APPROPRIATE TO LEAVE A LONG ASS COMMENT ON UR BURIED FIC IN PUBLIC….. SO I’M DROPPING IT HERE i’m so sorry in advance this is about to be a mess,, i’m so fucking emotional right now

((the review under the cut is in response to my fic which can b read here))

okay first –

The mental image of tiny gangly Barnabas and Jonah crouched with their hands in the dirt….. is so fucking cute?? I could feel Jonah’s jealousy just burning off of him. You had me right away. Fuck. You know how to open a story and I’m deeply envious, I’ve always struggled with it. Also, you threw in that little hook:

Despite what Jonah believes, there are some things that just can’t be explained in words.

Barnabas’ voice is so fucking good… guh… you know. I didn’t much care about Barnabas in any deep way before I joined the Jonah server and you guys have all just completely GUTTED me, I can’t believe how much I care about this highly-strung bastard,, he is so GOOD. HE’S SO GOOD???? HE’S SUCH A SWEETIE. LIKE. BARNABAS FEELING GUILTY AND HORRIFIED THAT PEOPLE ARE GRATEFUL TO HIM AND WANT HIM AROUND???? AAAAAAAAAA. And the melancholy aspect, too, which I imagine is how Mordechai was able to relate to him, get attached to him… Barnabas being bitter about how useless his tears are while he’s crying anxiously at the prospect that he might not be able to help those families after all…….

All of those scraps of Barnabas’ letter to Jonah made such EXCELLENT transitions, holy hell. Again I am inspired by your storytelling prowess. I am taking notes, for whenever my ability to write longform fic returns from war. This one was my favorite, made my heart clench:

A good world starts with a good person and a few choices that are made with the heart—

He’s so earnest I’m going to weep ;_; Barny.. you can’t make Jonah a better person he’s AWFUL,,

(Side note, super digging that I can indent stuff, block quoting makes this SO much easier.)

Also really digging that Jonah doesn’t have as nice a reputation as Barnabas… Jonah is the bad influence friend lmfao. AND JONAH’S CAT… I LOVE HIM…

And then you delivered a swift blow straight to the religion kink, as promised… “There’s something undeniably old testament about Jonah; the fire and fury of creation, the self-annihilating stare of Lot’s wife.“ LOSING IT I’M LOSING IT… WHAT A WAY OF DESCRIBING HIM God, here I thought I couldn’t possibly be more attracted to this bastard man. I am aghast at myself.

LOSING IT EVEN MORE OVER BARNABAS STACKING TEACUPS ON JONAH’S HEAD???? Why must you make them so fucking cute oh NO this is going to hurt isn’t it. ((This was the note I stuck in the Word doc while I was reading it and I thought I’d leave it as was for your enjoyment))

“Taking cues from your dreams?” Barnabas replies. “You know only the desperately mad do that?” 

“Or desperately inspired—savants and prophets and visionaries.”

And then you continued to try to kill me… Jonah thinking of himself as a prophet……. hhhhh canon-typical overambitious zealotry I’m HERE FOR IT………

“Are you trying to make me angry with you by playing the devil’s advocate?” 

“Just testing you,” Jonah says in his alloyed voice, silver-and-honey-gold. 

Del I cannot stress enough… My religion kink………. It’s been SO VERY ACTIVATED.

“Your morality has only ever been a thin cover for your shame.”

OUCH, JONAH, JESUS

Every bit of their dialogue was so familiar and tinged with bittersweetness and I owe you my entire life… Sincerely. Ugh. Like, how you described Barnabas’ internal angst about it later on – when he’s thinking of Mordechai, and he refers to "his many dog-eared fantasies” about Jonah it just really vividly conjured the thought of he and Jonah having a sort of? Queer solidarity, ESPECIALLY having grown up together. And that makes Jonah’s flash of betrayal at Barnabas not wanting to be SEEN with him that much more agonizing, personally. Like. I’ve had that happen to me more than once in real life. And much as Jonah is a piece of shit who is absolutely manipulating him………. still, ouch. Ouch. (Barnabas’ thoughts on the company Jonah keeps also made me wince. You did an AMAZING job with all of the internalized shame and frantic rationalizations, hooooooboy.)

The Lukases being colorblind is such an interesting piece of lore by the way I love it????? Now I have. Some questions, about Peter. Mordechai’s characterization in this is so fascinating to me. I’m enTRANCED by how you reverse-Uno’d it so that Barnabas was the reason Mordechai lost himself to the Lonely… the power dynamics……. so tasty. Ugh. And all of the sensual descriptions, especially of that first visit Barnabas had at Moorland house?? I didn’t clip any because I would have ended up clipping the whole fucking thing. It was aching, haunting, beautiful, holyshit. Their romance is somehow more fucked up than Barnabas and Jonah’s…

Also, I was so eager to read this I skipped the tags/warnings and completely didn’t realize Mordechai was going to be an actual vampire so that was a VERY fun surprise lmfao.

Barnabas feels like he’s close to learning something about violence and desire, how close they are, how the wires can get crossed.

THIS QUOTE IS EVERYTHING TO MEEEEEE ugh I’m having an aneurysm over how Jonah managed to fashion Barnabas into a creature that could understand him by gifting him to Mordechai for a while… letting Mordechai crack him open at the points where he was already brittle and experience an influx of some of the true darkness of the world. Just a tasty taste. That way when he discovers the truth of Jonah’s occult interests he won’t run away, because he’s already got his own fingers in the mess. He’s already given himself to one horror, why not Jonah? Shave some of the shine off of his morality, make him nice and gray so he won’t contrast so much with Jonah… And satisfying his curiosity at the same time. Two birds.

Oh, also, still sobbing about this line:

he realises that he doesn’t want to wear any colours that Mordechai can’t properly see.

EVERY TIME I let my guard down for ten seconds you smacked me with more of Barnabas being the most precious bleeding heart in the universe!!!!!! He aches so much for the people he’s trying to help and he hates people like Mordechai but part of him also wants to save Mordechai, somehow… maybe recognizes the parts of him that are like these people, still. Nearly faded but not quite gone yet. And as you’ve already established, Barnabas simply cannot let things go. Can’t disappoint people… can’t leave them when he could be doing something. Anything. Augh, FEELINGS.

Of course he knew Mordechai and Jonah were friends, he’d just temporarily believed in a sane and fair universe where things like this don’t happen. 

AND YOU HAD SUCH A PERFECT BALANCE OF HUMOR… This could have been such a feelbad fic, and tbh it still would have been spectacular. But you always eased it at just the right moment to keep it from going off the rails into irretrievable deepdark territory. Fed me little soft moments so I’d still be vulnerable enough to have my HEART RIPPED OUT LATER…

I’m not super interested in the Buried canon-wise but I love how you’ve written Barnabas’ natural affiliation with it… so subtle but powerful? (Of COURSE Jonah was jealous, lmao. He had to work so hard and he’s still not on Barnabas’ level. There’s some kinda beautiful commentary on ambition versus goodwill in there somewhere but I’m too busy nursing my battered little heart right now to articulate it.) It wove its way in and out of the rest of the plot so naturally, too. For some reason it compliments Barnabas’ temperament as I read it in canon just… so well. Was there a discussion about this on the server, and if so, PLEASE tell me about it sometime I’m so fascinated.

Jonah wasn’t even present for a lot of the fic but his characterization was so INTENSE and luminous, Christ… I know I already praised it a bit but. Woof. I wasn’t expecting to get a taste of his POV at the end and I was so excited I kicked my feet (my cat was very disgruntled) like, this line!!!

Now, he thinks there’s some truth in those false statements, in the lies we tell and why we want to be believed.

GOD, YOU’RE REALLY GONNA GIVE ME FEELINGS ABOUT JONAH AND FUTURE-JONAHLIAS IN THE SAME FIC?????? EVIL… I’m so so so fucking here for it, oh my God, Jonah with an amplifying anxiety disorder, THE PRICE OF IMMORTALITY… too bad the Eye doesn’t let you see the future, Jonah, lmao… the line “immortality just made his anxiety turn nuclear” is SEARED into my brain now, I am NOT accepting canon to contradict this ever again. I’ve always wondered how Jonah’s neuroses might have worsened in two entire fucking CENTURIES and I love the way you wrote it. I am fucking. Losing my mind.

There’s so many other things I could comment on, like. The brief but glorious Jonah-grinding-himself-off-on-Barnabas’-thigh shenanigans. Was incredibly hot, and Mordechai’s poor fragile heart breaking, and Barnabas telling Isabel that it’s fine to call him Barny…….. I’m hhhhhhhhHHHH fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m just!! I am incomprehensible!!! Everyone told me this fic was amazing but it’s fucking amazing, Del, what the hell. I’m never gonna be the same after this. The end was SHOCKINGLY sweet and I have WHIPLASH.

………… So, now that I’ve made you read a novel. Hah. Sorry. My point is. I loved every bit of this. It deserved heaps more praise but my eyes are starting to cross. Thx for sharing :’) 

Love,

Tony xx

TONY. TONY THIS MEANS EVERYTHING TO ME. FIRSTLY I’M SO GLAD YOU LIKED THIS. SECOND OF ALL, THANKS TO YOU I’LL BE SCREAMING FROM THE ROOFTOPS FOREVER HAVE YOU ANY IDEA HOW THIS REVIEW HAS AFFECTED ME? IT’S THE BEST FEEDBACK I’VE EVER RECIEVED IN MY LIFE I FEEL LIKE A FIRSTGRADER GETTING THEIR FIRST GOLD STAR I FEEL ON TOP OF THE WORLD LIKE I COULD THROW THE JEWEL OF THE SEA OFF THE SHIP AND LEAN OVER THE RAILINGS BECAUSE YOUR ARMS ARE AROUND ME TONY IT’S BEEN MONTHS AND THIS REVIEW HAS BEEN A FIREPLACE KEEPING ME WARM THROUGH THE WINTER MONTHS I LOVE YOU DEARLY FOR THIS YOU ARE AN ABSOLUTE CHAMPION IF YOU WERE IN FRONT OF ME RIGHT NOW I WOULD FRENCH KISS YOU WITHOUT HESISTATION UNTIL THE BOTH OF US HAVE RUN OUT OF AIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FUCKING BLESS YOU TONY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

[ariella884]

Voyager Book Club - February Favorite Fics

So I put forth a challenge of sorts to our Voyager Book Club. I asked everyone to pick ONE Voyager fic that they consider to be their favorite. Now, you can imagine, this is pretty freaking hard! There are so many incredible fics out there. I didn’t say it had to be the best written, or the most in character. I gave examples such as: the one you read over and over or your go-to fic, however you want to phrase it. It was pointed out that a favorite fic can change every hour based on your frame of mind and what you are in the mood to read at any one moment. I get it. Even so....I challenged everyone to only pick ONE. And they did it! Or most of them! I got around 20 different favorites picked! So here is the list of our Favorite Voyager Fics, why they were chosen and by whom. Happy Reading!!

Note: Click on the name of the fic for a link to it! Also, this list is in no particular order.

-------

@curator-on-ao3: ‘Fragile Things’ by @mia-cooper

“Fanfic is about exploring possibilities. That’s what put this fic over the top to be my favorite. In Fragile Things, MiaCooper examines multiple versions of one relationship, pulling different threads to see how things unravel or knit together. It’s thoughtful, it’s meta, it’s realistic as hell, it’s damn good writing — it’s MiaCooper and it’s excellent.”

-------

@ariella884(yep, that’s me!): ‘2013′ by PCBW (@pcbw)

“I had a hard time choosing my favorite (like most people here), mostly because as i was gathering them all from everyone else I kept seeing ones and going, ‘Oh! I love that one!’.  I also didn’t want to have any duplicates so I had to change mine a couple times, that being said, 2013 is easily one of my top three (which of themselves is almost impossible to pick just one. I’m lucky that my other two were chosen already and I didn’t have to!). I love 2013 because it is a modern AU, without being a completely modern AU. No, that doesn’t make sense. But you get our Janeway and Chakotay, Starfleet officers and all, and you get them in the modern world. It’s incredible! We see the challenges they go through of being taken from everything they know and put into a world that is pretty much unknown to them. Add to that the personal differences they have to work out together. Splash in the normal challenges that we all go through when trying to live a life in this day and age (jobs, house, money, love, family, etc). This is just an incredibly beautiful story that I have read many times and will continue to read over and over. It’s also a long fic and those are my favorite because I like to get completely involved in stories!”

-------

@mia-cooper: ‘Deceiving’ by QuantumSilver

“Because it starts with a canon event that is absolutely devastating and shows just how devastated Janeway and Chakotay are by it (and Tuvok and Ayala as well, though they only make a brief appearance). It shows Janeway at her absolute best - every last inch the captain, going above and beyond for her crew not just physically but emotionally in spite of the absolutely gut-wrenching cost to her - and it really kicks off with one of my absolute favourite tropes: mutual pining to the Nth Fucking Degree.

It has Chakotay being every bit the commander, backing her up even though he's dying inside, and REFUSING to let her shut herself away even though he KNOWS she's going to want to murder him for pushing and pushing and pushing at her.

And then OH MY GOD, he's deliberately getting on her every last nerve just so he can wrench honesty from her because he knows if she doesn't tell him how badly he's hurt her, how she's absolutely bottomed out because of him, she will never open up to him or anyone else again.

AND THEY DRINK WHISKEY OMG GIVE ME KJ AND C UTTERLY MISERABLE AND DRINKING WHISKEY LIKE IT'S WATER AND PINING LIKE FUCK AND NOT SAYING A WORD BUT BLEEDING TO DEATH FROM THE HEART AND I WILL DIE HAPPY FOREVERRRRRRR

I'm sorry for yelling but this fic makes me want to rip off my clothes and run up and down the street screeching how everybody should read it and they are just BRUTAL with each other and they STILL do not understand, refuse to, CANNOT understand, that the other would not just die for them but MURDER WHOLE FUCKING ARMIES FOR THEM and it's tragic and devastating but then oH MY GOoOoOODDDDD

So that is my favourite fic and the one i read approximately every two months or more if i really hate my writing that day and want to torture myself with How It Should Be Done.”

--------

@bizships: ‘Fealty’ by MsDisdain

“My favorite story. I honestly don’t have to think about it. It’s one I always go back to.

I love the way the crew pledges their loyalty to her and the way subtle way they tell her that it’s okay that she’s happy too in that they effectively give her Chakotay for her birthday, by way of him “fighting” Tuvok(Starfleet)  for her hand.”

--------

@arcadia1995: ‘The Space Between’ by lauawill ( @joyful-voyager)

“The Space Between is a story I return to time and time again when I'm feeling down.  I like that it realistically portrays what might have happened between Janeway and Chakotay right after the returned home in Endgame.  I like that no one in the J/C/7 triangle ends up being a bad guy.  I like the hopeful ending and imaging what might have happened after the fade to black (lots of sex!!!)“

-------

@wishful-thinker-87 : ‘if you came this way’ by tree

“It’s always a go to for me, even though I don’t usually like AUs. The sex is intense and emotional. The characterization is pot on. And we get Phoebe being an awesome sister and some Chakotay/Molly bonding too. What’s not to love?!”

-------

BlackVelvet: ‘Bluffing the Crowd’ by @ralkana

“Even after years since i read this, just thinking about this story brings a warm fuzzy feeling to my heart and a huge silly grin to my face. I simply love it.”

-------

@purpledog47: ‘The Future is Ours’ by Dawn

“My favorite is most definitely Dawn’s ‘The Future is Ours. This is my one fic. It’s super long and it tells us what happened after Endgame and it has a little bit of everything in it: angst, romance, hurt/comfort, Q, babyfic, romance.” 

-------

@amoderngirl: ‘Time and Distance’ by northernexposure

“If I am ever loosing the thread with J/C, I can always read this and I am immediately in love again.”

-------

@coffeeblack75: ‘Soft Light’ by northernexposure

“There are so many reasons why I love it that I can't even, haha. I'll start with: it was the first piece of fanfic smut I read, so I love it for that reason - my first time haha. More importantly, it is just beautifully, beautifully written - it's plotted beautifully, it flows beautifully and the pacing is spot on. The author has complete control over all of that & over the language, which is just used masterfully. There's so much subtley going on in this story too - the author doesn't spell everything out for us and instead draws us to the details that reveal what is important - the beginnings of these two getting to know each other. Gosh, it's so hard to articulate haha! But lines like this just make me shiver in delight for their beauty and what they reveal: "he was kissing her, with a lot more sweetness than was wise. Ah god, I could go on and on but perhaps I'll finish with my favourite bit, which is when C feels that first stab of lust & realises she might too & tests his theory by blowing softly on the back of her neck. This moment, omg, the moment is just so beautiful, so quiet, so pointed and private and intimate. You really feel that moment as if you are there. Ahhhhh :)

Also….there are two sequels to it that are equally as wonderful ;)  

Oh and one more thing I adore about this story is the way that the C thinks he is lusting after KJ but it is quite obvious he loves her - even before they come together - but he hasn’t realized it yet. The way the author does this is just incredible - so deft! Everything for C is about taking care of KJ … it’s just beautiful.”

-------

@caladeniablue: ‘Lifeline’ by helenagray ( @picking-daisies-in-the-outfield)

“Why do I like that fic? An unfinished WIP at that (Started in 2013; last update in Jan 2019. No indication how many chapters to go.) The perfect serial story and that's part of the attraction for me.

The first chapter sets the scene: raw Janeway, alone, without the backup of her ship, her crew or Chakotay. Bare of essentials and with only her courage and intelligence and sheer determination to help her survive, and even she wonders how long those will last her.

And while we learn about Chakotay and how he seeks her while the crew has to move on, I am drawn to Janeway most of all.

The fic jumps back and forth across locations and in time from that first chapter to catch up with it again some 20 chapters later, but there is no jarring. The reader knows immediately what KJ is experiencing , but the past events that led to that situation are as important, and that's one of the many attractions of this story. No overlong flashbacks, no tedious info dump. It's all layered, making one wait for the next chapter and the next one, while knowing all the time where KJ has ended up.

The writing is gorgeous, which is a bonus. And it is pure J/C, distilled to its purest by separation.  Perfect.”

-------

@keiraniels: ‘Bad Ensign’ (Series) by @curator-on-ao3

“Ok so I chose Curator’s ‘Bad Ensign’ because I come back to it often - - it’s such a freaking brilliant idea that I can 100% imagine being canon, and it inspired so many Voyager Bookclubbers to write Bad Ensign stories”

-------

@cnrothtrek: ‘War Torn’ by @curator-on-ao3

“Why? I had the pleasure of beta reading this story, and I am so glad that I did. It has a great plot, is well-written and perfectly paced, and is hard to put down. The way it pulls together two pieces of canon backstories for Miles O’Brien and Kathryn Janeway is genius. The characters feel so real and their voices can be clearly heard in the text. And the supporting characters of Captain Benjamin Maxwell, Will “Stompie” Kayden, and Molly Walsh are incredible. The story is intense, absorbing, and emotional. I just can’t say enough good things about it.”

-------

@theshortywrites: ‘The Dragonfly Oath’ by Koneia

-------

@emmikamikatze: ‘All the Good Things We Never Did’ by northernexposure

“This story brings me to tears, makes me smile and shiver and fear and worry. It's given me phrases that won't leave me, that keep repeating itself in my head even months (years) after first reading it. There's just the right amount of show trivia to make it a fanfiction, but little enough to make it a unique and original story. ne makes me fall in love with these characters all over again as if I didn't know them beforehand.

This story is special and precious and it speaks to me on so many levels I can hardly comprehend how genius it is. It's a literary masterpiece of fanfic if there ever was one.”

-------

@missmil: ‘Here I Stand’ by lauawill

-------

@manalyzer13: ‘Gravitation’ by northernexposure

-------

@grace-among-the-stars: ‘Filling the Void’ by Spiletta42

“Filling the Void is the one fic I always return to. It has my fave ships, JC, PT and D7. Minor characters play major parts and it is just funny. It makes me laugh every time. 

JC’s relationship is really explored from all angles, this is not just your average, ‘the crew get them together fics’, it is so much more. It has sexual tension, smut, humour, sadness and is pure JC BLISS. It always cheers me up and I was so happy when Spiletta42 added it to Ao3 because this meant so many more people would find it.”

-------

Anonymous: ‘Bent, Not Broken’ by @killermanatee

“This is an incredible hurt/comfort Janeway/Chakotay fic. The story is painfully written from both characters' perspectives, showing how each is suffering in a different way from the traumatic event that has occurred. In the end, their love for each other will help them come together and they will both be able to heal with time, comfort, and support from one another. This is a beautifully told, emotionally heavy story of one couple's love overcoming tragedy. It is my favorite Janeway/Chakotay fic, and I recommend it to anyone who wants to read a heartbreaking yet fulfilling story.”

-------

@minakotenjou: ‘Mysterious and Curious’ by @h4t08 

“It was so hard to choose - there are a lot of incredible fanfics out there. This was one of the first...shall we say spicier J/C fics I read and for some reason I still think of it often. It's great smut for sure, but I think it stuck with me because of how it all gets tied together at the end.”

-------

@leisylaura: ‘The Bitter End’ by @mia-cooper

“We have post endgame books but not one about the original timeline, I remember reading “The bitter end” and thinking “this is it, this is what happened”.  I cried from beginning to end.”

-------

@killermanatee: ‘The Dying of the Light’ by @cnrothtrek

"This fic is such a gorgeous piece of art. I hadn't seen the TNG episode before reading it and when I did watch it I was very disappointed because this fic is just on such a completely different level. The storytelling is so delicate and intriguing, that combined with the poignant and elegant writing style, so that it was impossible to put my phone down. I can't recommend this fic highly enough."

-------

@cheile: ‘Marooned’ by Soliquilii9 (aka Running Horse)

“I love how she makes the story unfold in slow steady measures.  Also, she filled in the gaps left by the writers in regards to his heritage by using information from her own Cherokee background and it is done naturally (not in an info dump type manner). “

__________

What do you think of our list of Voyager favorites? Do you have a favorite that isn’t on this list? Reply to this post with your favorite!! And if you haven’t read ALL of these fics yet, I strongly suggest you get started!! Have fun and enjoy!!

[aerialflight]

Fic Recs

I haven’t done this in a while, recommending fics. But there were some fics these past couple of months that put a smile on my face, so I want to spread that joy to others. Seriously, they’re so good and I want to shove all these recs at people and have them appreciate them as much as I do. Everyone stay safe and I hope these recs make staying home easier for everyone!

-

[Fullmetal Alchemist]

maestoso by novalotypo

Edward Elric is about eleven when he stands up, makes an extended effort to knock as many books off the old bastard’s shelves as he can, and says, “Fuck the military. Al, you interested in music at all?”

Everybody's got their own ideas of retirement.

The Elrics don't even do retirement, what with the world trying to blow itself up every other month, but this shit has got to take the fucking cake.

(You want a fic that’ll make you cry tears of uncontrollable laughter? I point you to this fic. The shenanigans, the fact this is a time travel fic, the fucking headaches the Elrics cause, the I-Have-No-Fucks-To-Give attitude. Legend.)

-

[The Magnus Archives]

we raise it up by savrenim

Jonathan Sims reads a book and saves the world; although maybe the real salvation is the friends he makes along the way.

OR: in which Jon is not the only Archival monster for very long, Sasha James is competent, Tim Stoker finds some catharsis, Helen Richardson is sexy, Melanie makes a very successful youtube channel revamp, and Martin Blackwood gets to brew a lot of new friends tea.

(This is literally the most creative, fucking inspired tma fic I’ve ever read. You literally will never be able to guess what happens next and it’s just so much fun.)(Kinda Time Travel, you’ll understand what I mean if you read it, it’s so well done and amazing.)(The characterization for Sasha makes me want to weep, I’ve never seen her characterized this way before and it makes SO MUCH SENSE.)(@savrenim you are a QUEEN and you inspire me to be a better writer.)

-

[Marvel]

Crash Landing by Nyxelestia

"You could've left me there," Adrian murmured, jerking his head back towards the burning beach in the distance. "For Stark and his DODC people to find me. Liz and Doris' lives would've actually fallen apart with my arrest, and all my work to take care of them would've gone to waste. You could've just left me there...but you didn't. So I'll make you another deal."

Peter clenched his hands, fists shaking hard. "I'm giving you a second chance - but if you go back to what you were doing...I can't make any promises."

"It would be stupid of me to expect you to, after all this," Adrian said. He looked at Peter, at the hints of bruises and all the blood. He had trouble reconciling this fragile-looking kid with the superhuman who's been destroying his business, his daughter's homecoming date with the boy he'd nearly killed. "That's not my deal. My deal is, we both walk away, and neither of us say a word about any of this to Liz. Anything else - we'll cross those bridges as we come to them."

Swallowing, the boy nodded.

Instead of gift-wrapping the Vulture for Happy to find, Peter lets Mr. Toomes go.

(Honestly, I’m disappointed in the fact there’s not many Vulture-centric fics out there. This was so great and Peter was wonderfully characterized here along with Ned.)(I have a deep craving now for more Adrian Toomes fics and I blame this fic for that. I don’t regret it one bit.)

-

[The Witcher]

all some children do is work by some_stars

It's two children, he realizes as they slowly sit up. They look about eight or nine, not that he's much judge of children's ages. One is a girl, dark-haired, in a shabby dress. The other is a boy. His clothes aren't much better, and his hair isn't much lighter than the girl's, but his eyes—

His eyes, Jaskier realizes with a distant sense of horror, are gold like a cat's. His mind makes one more valiant effort to keep from connecting the obvious dots and recognizing them, and then it finally does.

"How in the unholy fuck," Jaskier says to no one, "did this shit happen?"

(So sweet it’ll give you cavities. Break your own heart reading this, I dare you.)

of music and motion and love by WriteThroughTheNight

When Jaskier was four, he slipped his mother’s watch and went to the field to gather a bouquet of dandelions. He climbed back into the yard, as stealthy as a child really cared to be, and crept over to the barn. In the barn, lived a secret. (The man he thought his father said the secret was a monster, a plague. His mother said the secret was his sister.)

OR

Jaskier comes from a far humbler background, and would really like to know why Yennefer never came back for her youngest brother.

(YENNEFER AND JASKIER AS SIBLINGS ENOUGH SAID. FIENOWPAFE)

to render it transparent by theundiagnosable

Geralt wakes up warm, peaceful, and utterly content, which is how he knows that something is severely wrong.

(Where Geralt wakes up in the future and Jaskier and Geralt live at the Coast.)(They are Disasters. What else is new.)(Everything’s lovely and emotionally repressed.)

-

[Game of Thrones]

if I give you my heart, will you promise not to break it? by janie_tangerine

Ship: Brienne/Jaime

“It’s not broken,” she protests.

“Please,” Ronnet goes on, “it’s all red. Red hearts like that are broken and their owners are either useless or more effort than they’re worth. ‘Course you would get a broken one, who else would want you?”

“It’s not,” Brienne hisses, and at that he stops talking. She realizes her voice had turned cold. Very cold. A coldness that doesn’t belong to her, she’s never sounded like that, but it seems to come from the pulsing warmth in her hands, again - “and the day I find him you’ll see he’s not broken or damaged or unworthy. And I sure as the seven hells hope no one got saddled with yours.

in which soulmates find each other through one of them having the other's heart.

or, in which Brienne gets a mostly broken one the day Jaime Lannister kills Aerys Targaryen.

(So this is a series, just want to put that out there. And I read through all of them cause I just couldn’t do otherwise. Brienne is obviously the bravest, most noble, most amazing of course. And Jaime makes me want to punch a wall because feels.)(This soulmate idea is so creatively and well done, has become one of my favorite soulmate tropes.)(There are a lot of interesting pairings in this series and the way the author went about the relationships and this expanding world has me giving all the yeses.)(Please read!!!)

-

[Gilmore Girls]

Weather Me by missgoalie75

Ship: Paris Geller/Jess Mariano

A year in the life of Paris and Jess.

(PARIS GELLER AND JESS MARIANO AT THEIR VERY BEST HOLY SHIT!!! I can hear their voices in every line, every thought, every damn interaction and I am so in love it's ridiculous. Paris in particular won me over, I have become incredibly fond of her and it's honestly brilliant! And Jess has a beautiful mind and I love him, I do. God, do I.)(missgoalie75 did it again.)

Living With It by thesaltyavocado

Ship: Lindsay Lister/Jess Mariano

#Future Fic, #Post-Season/Series Finale, #So Your Ex is Now Your Step-Cousin, #And You're Dating Her Ex's Ex!, #A Step-by-Step Guide to Getting Over It

(There’s no summary, it���s a series, and I’m in LOVE. I am a sucker for really, really well done rare pairs, and this is the rarest of them all. Go for it. It’s beautiful.)(Also, the author is literally the BEST, the VERY BEST at making me want to ship people I never even thought of. They’re awesome.)(check out all their fics, I went on a spree and you should too.)

-

[The Hunger Games]

Speechless by thesaltyavocado

Ship: Haymitch Abernathy/Effie Trinket

Effie was kind, she was warm, she offered comfort to anyone who needed it, microphones be damned. She had a reputation for generosity amongst the Victors that Haymitch hadn't paid any attention to, because he was so paranoid about showing his hand that he barely even said her name around other people, barely even acknowledged her existence. Everyone thought he hated her, Beetee had explained. Everyone knew the stories about how he'd made her cry in the sponsor's lounge at the opening of the 61st Games, how he'd blown up at Cecelia that time when she'd asked him to pass a message onto Effie for her. Is that why none of you assholes ever liked me? Haymitch had asked. No, we didn't like you because you were a prick, Beetee told him, which was fair enough.

(The best, and I mean the best fic I’ve ever read regarding this pairing. Nothing is ever going to top this. Nothing.)(The WORLDBUILDING. FUCK.)(Literally everyone is perfectly characterized in new, heartbreaking ways and I just, fuck. Fuck.)(I don’t care if you’re not into the fandom, this will make you fall in love and see the characters with new eyes and it’s absolutely stellar.)(I want to cry.)(You don’t even have to be here for the ship, just be here for the writing, characterization, the WORLDBUILDING, fucking everything.)(Please.)(This fic NEEDS more love.)(I have fallen in love with Effie Trinket.)(This is my life now.)

-

[Harry Potter]

Walkabout by thesaltyavocado for teethandstars

Ship: Hermione Granger/Sirius Black

"You are always far too handsome for your own good," Hermione says, "in any timeline."

(The author strikes again when it comes to shipping people I don’t expect to love, yet here it is. Such an interesting fic where the time travel already happened and it’s the aftermath that the fic covers.)(Again, characterization off the fucking charts and I just want to wrap myself up in their words and live there.)(A story about broken people trying to find peace within themselves.)

-

[Stranger Things]

and you hunger for the time by missgoalie75

Ship: Steve Harrington/Kali Prasad

after the battle of starcourt, steve figured the rest of the summer would involve not working, waiting for his busted ribs and face to heal, hanging out with robin and the party, and trying to ignore the panic he feels whenever he thinks about his future. All that does happen, but other unexpected things happen too.

(Bet you didn’t see this ship coming, did you? Neither did I, yet here we are.)(missgoalie75 is the gift that keeps on giving.)(But in all seriousness this is my favorite characterization of Steve, hands down.)(This fic needs more kudos and comments and basically all the love it deserves.)(God tier characterization and relationship development.)

-

[Sinbad: Legend of the Seven Seas]

nfwmb by perennial

Ship: Eris/Proteus

The goddess of discord isn't careless enough to fall in love with a do-gooder mortal prince—unless, of course, she doesn't know it's happening.

(Okay, hear me out. I know it’s weird, I can feel the judgement coming from my screen. But I am weak in the face of rare pairings that actually work and the fact I fucking loved this movie ever since I was a kid, okay? So if anybody else loves this fandom as much as I do, stand up and take notice of this. I am here to tell you there are worthwhile fics to be read in this very, very small fandom.)

I'll keep turning down the hands that beckon me to come by deavors

Ship: Marina/Proteus/Sinbad

“Jealous?” Sinbad says, voice easily and casually mocking, but there’s something else under there, an undertone that speaks of so many things Marina isn’t even close to understanding.

“Extremely,” says Proteus, cracking a half-smile, but Marina feels like he’s not joking.

They stare at each other for a few moments. Marina’s gaze flickers between them. Sun and moon. She wishes—she doesn’t know what she wishes. Her heart is twisting again, but in a different way from before: as though it’s half-empty and longs to be full.

(You have no idea how in love I am with the idea of these three being in a poly relationship. No idea.)(I’ve been shipping all of them the moment I was introduced to the idea of polyamory relationships.)(This is THE poly ship for me.)(Nothing’s ever gonna come close. Nothing.)

-

[Crossovers]

Trust Me, I'm an Alchemist by metisket

Fandoms: Yuri!!! on Ice, Fullmetal Alchemist

In which Yuri Plisetsky began life with the name Edward Elric, and this has made the world of figure skating a significantly stranger and more alarming place.

“Are you saying you lived a life of crime before you began skating?” “I’m gonna have to check the statute of limitations on a couple things and get back to you on that.”

(Meme Alien Edward, Ninja Alphonse who’ll smile at you as you Perish, Disaster Gay Victor, Disaster Gay Maniac Yuuri.)(If this isn’t incentive enough, the Elrics traumatizing and delighting social media with their Life Stories and their Life of Crime.)(Feral Elrics being Feral Elrics.)(It’s the kind of fic that gets better with every chapter, cause the shenanigans just keep ESCALATING.)

[the-nerdnextdoor]

first line game

rules: list the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). see if there are any patterns, and choose your favorite opening line! tag 10 of your favorite authors! (omg I only know like two authors that I follow on here so @seasidewriter1-writes you are my one and only tag lmao hi)

@songbvrd this is the first time I've ever been tagged in something like this and it honestly made me so happy (may or may not have teared up) that u thought of me, I'm so touched thank you!!!

I have 11 stories spanning from this year all the way back to 2013 and some of them I just... I was young, okay? and not very good at the writing shtick (not that I'm much better now, but hey). I'll turn it around by adding lines from future WIPs I've got lurking in my Google Docs lol. 

Beauty is in the Details - Sterek (Teen Wolf) - 8k - 02/2021

Stiles has never really been much of an art-lover, so to speak.

Deaton’s Dream Beans - Sterek (Teen Wolf) - 64k - 11/2020-02/2021

Derek Hale has a lot of time for Vernon Boyd. 

Finding One-Shots - Peter Parker/OC (MCU) - 10k - 05/2020-ongoing

Mikaela hands the cash over the counter to the man, giving him a small smile before she takes the pizza boxes and squeezes down the line of waiting customers to exit the pizza joint.

Untethered - Jessica Jones/Tony Stark (MCU) - 66k - 05/2020-ongoing

She should really have every lightbulb in her small apartment switched on and glaring, since the darkness always seems to press in around her, hiding black eyes and soft-spoken words.

Finding Home - Peter Parker/OC (MCU) - 237k - 04/2018-05/2020

They had put a bag over her head when they’d jumped her. 

Siblings, Secrets, and Suspicions - Jenko/OC (21 Jump Street) - 20k - 12/2014-02/2017

I managed to sweet-talk my way into getting let out of work three hours early tonight, just to make sure I’m around if my brother decides high school parties aren’t as cool as they’re made out to be on television.

Of Fragile Souls - Alex Summers/OC (X-Men) - 58k - 06/2014-01/2018

His coat of white should have meant that he was the embodiment of peace, of innocence and purity and everything good in this world, but he contradicted that in any and every way he could.

The Phoenix and The Riddler - Riddler/OC (DC) - 3k - 10/2013

“D’you know where Bruce Wayne is hiding out?” I asked Selina, scratching one of her many cats’ heads.

A Forgotten Enemy - One Ring POV (Lord of the Rings) - 1k - 08/2013

I have discovered that time passes excruciatingly slowly when you lie, forgotten by all who once feared you, on an unknown riverbed.

Emberling - Legolas/OC (Lord of the Rings) - 58k - 07/2013-hiatus

Stars, the eldest of all beings belonging to the world of Middle Earth, and any other world existing.

The Phoenix - Riddler/OC (DC) - 39k - 05/2013-08/2013

“Patient interview number one. Patient’s name is Kenna Fyrian.”

Okay now it’s time for future WIPs so I can change the subject from those ooold fics I am cringing over after glancing in their direction lmao.

An Unstoppable Force and an Immovable Object - Thiam (Teen Wolf) - TBD

I'm not the bad guy, he had told Stiles.

Untitled Fic - Derek/OC (Teen Wolf) - TBD (won’t be the first line, but it’s all I have)

Ava’s eyes squint with wary suspicion as she hops down from her truck, pebbles skittering under her sneakers when she hits the ground.

Untitled Fic - Poe/OC (Star Wars) - TBD (no idea if this will be the first line, but it’s all I have)

The world is a bleak grey, from the soil to the buildings to the sky.

Untitled Fic - Griffin/OC (Jumper) - TBD

“Motherfuck-” Danny splutters through the blood pouring into her mouth, arms pumping as her feet thunder down the corridor.

Untitled Fic - OC (Umbrella Academy) - TBD

When Eliana was young, Luther would always insist she stand somewhere near the fire extinguishers positioned strategically within each room of the colossal mansion.

Thunder and Lightning - Arthur Morgan/OC (Red Dead Redemption 2) - TBD

Josephine crouches behind a large stone, one knee pressing into the soil, the damp earth slowly soaking into the material of her pants.

Untitled Fic - Jack/OC (Supernatural) - TBD

Vivian slows the car to a stop and turns the engine off, exhaling shakily.

Untitled Fic - Edmund/OC (Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian) - TBD

Arianna leans her back against the foot of the bed, one knee bent to support her elbow, the other leg stretched lazily in front of her.

and that’s all the ones that have any drabbles written for them! any others are just like vague bullet points at the moment. 

I think the only kind of patterns I was aware of, looking back at these fics, is that my older ones when I first started out were mostly written in first person, and then from Finding Home-onwards I switched to third person. for some reason the first person stuff makes me especially cringy now. there’s a decent mix of short and long sentences, some dialogue thrown in, some names introduced straight off the bat, but I kinda like that I’m not doing the same thing over and over.

as for picking a favourite, uft.. Untethered is one I'm quite proud of, and that chapter kind of wrote itself one day when I was feeling particularly down and needing to distract myself, so it means something to me. Finding Home is my longest fic to date and is one that I hold very close to my heart, despite there being parts that I wish I'd done differently and stuff. Untitled Jumper Fic is hopefully going to be quite a fun one, when I eventually get round to it; what I’ve characterised so far for Danny I really like, so I’m looking forward to that one. An Unstoppable Force and an Immovable Object is another one that I’m excited for and super eager to get started on, but I’m holding myself back so I can concentrate on Untethered. Oh and then the Untitled Teen Wolf Fic is another one I keep having waves of inspiration for and I keep just noting it down in bullet points or writing drabbles and then tearing my attention back to my actual WIP.

the end?

[1000roughdrafts]

Stop Asking Me To Come Back

John Winchester X Reader

Summary: Y/N and John have always had a cat and mouse chase type of relationship, where one runs and the other chases, and vice versa, but typically fall into a Dom/Sub type of relationship. John is tired of the games and when Y/N realizes she wants something more she’s too little too late.

A/N: a fic inspired by the song Stop Asking Me To Come Back by James Arthur and it, for some reason, gave me b i g John feels, so.. here you go, my first John X Reader fic, sorry for all the angst though.

while only the main song lyrics are italicized, here are a few more songs that came up when writing this; Lay Me Down - Sam Smith, It’s Gotta Be You - Isaiah, and I’m really excited to share this with everyone :) 

I decided to post this now because I couldn’t wait and decided to scrap the schedule thing because last time I put myself under too many time constraints I disappeared and want to just focus on what makes me happy so here enjoy :)

Warnings: angst, flangst, language, 18+ (adult themes, mentions of sex/making out)

Word Count: 2.6k

Swirling the malty liquid around in his glass, ice clinking against the sides, John swallowed the last of it in one gulp. The crash against the glass top of the bar as John slammed it down should have led him to check for damage, but he was too numb to pay any mind to the sound. The glass screeched as he slid it towards the bartender.

The pastel assortment of daisies and lilies that perkily sat in a vase to the left of where John sat brewed an acrimonious pang in his gut. He remembered how much Y/N loved the kind.

As he reached forward for his refilled glass, he removed his scowling eyes from the vase long enough to look into his fifth, or maybe it was his sixth, glass of whiskey. If he were to be honest, he hadn’t the intention of counting his drinks. His only goal was to drink until he couldn’t feel the pain.

He chuckled at himself, looking up at the daisies. Years and years of agony would take more than a night of drinking to forget.

The woman behind the bar stood in front of him, leaning her slender upper body onto the counter. In a graceful fashion, she folded her hands together as she looked at his tired face. His eyes crinkled in a forced, open lipped smile.

“Anything else I can do for you, John?” she asked sincerely. He was her best customer, and though he’d never opened up to her about his troubles, she knew that that John, sitting across from her that night, was a different John than she’d met years prior.

His eyes moving to the vase, he opened his lips just enough to force the words out in a barely audible whisper, “get rid of that, will ya?”

When his misty eyes coasted over to her, all thoughts of questioning his strange motives left her mind. She nodded her head quickly, and shuffled over to take the flowers into the back.

He bowed his head down for a moment before checking his phone, going pale when he saw her message. This is it, I guess, he thought before taking a long swing of the whiskey.

Slamming the cup back onto the counter, he cleared his throat and rotated to stand. Before he could move too far from the bar stool, she stood before him, a bleak smile on her face.

“Y/N,” he said, voiceless and empty, keeping his lips in a tight line.

“John,” she said in a synonymous tone, hugging her jacket tightly against her chest.

“Can I-” he cleared his throat again, and gestured to his drink. “Can I get you something?”

She pondered for a moment, eyes focused on the condensation of the glass. When she looked back at John, it dawned on her that his eyes had their own form of condensation.

Y/N slowly propped her jacket on the back of the stool next to John’s before making up her mind. With a devilish grin, she patted the stool he was sat in prior, motioning for him to sit and stirring a reaction in John that he hadn’t felt in a long while. Whether she knew what she did to him or not was lost on him.

“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” she smiled.

The way she smiled at him made him want to both slap it off of her and kiss her for it, but how dare she be so cheerful while he wallowed in self-pity and unrequited love?

Clearing his throat, he flagged over the bartender, ordering two more Jacks on the rocks.

A vociferous silence fell between the two of them for some time. The first to speak was Y/N, her voice peaceful yet melancholic.

“John,” she said, rotating her body to face him, “I-“

The urge he got to interrupt her before she had finished was overwhelming, “you told me to go, Y/N. You said ‘don’t turn around’. There was no going back,” the anger he felt filled his words. She denied them with a single shake of her head, but he pointed a finger at her, “yeah, you said it. You were all out of love,” he mocked. “Now you’re changing your mind?“ With a tilt of his head, he downed a gulp of the whiskey, more so to drown out the anger than anything.

She shuffled in her seat, trying to regain her strength. She stammered on her words, so she gulped down half of her own drink instead of speaking them.

“No words can explain how much I’ve missed you,” Y/N started in a gravelly whisper, watching John flinch as she said them.

His fist clenched around the glass without his knowing, but she could see it in the strain of his fingers. She looked away from them, as all she could think about was the way his hand, at one point, had wrapped around her neck in the midst of a needy and rather animalistic fuck.

Icy and raw, her breath hitched on its way in, so she let it sit in her chest before expelling a hot sigh, ridding herself of the thought. This conversation would be too serious for such reflection, that much she could tell.

After a long pause, he shifted to look at her through the sides of his eyes in what looked, to her, like a glare. He shook his head, scoffing at her words as if he’d just heard them.

She wasn’t fearful before, but seeing him had her feeling unsettled. She hadn’t known it then, but they had very different reasons for meeting in that dingy and squalid dive. A poetic beginning to an end to a beginning in the place they’d met all those years ago, when things seemed to have a golden film over them; a much simpler time.

Focusing back on his drink, he gripped it with both hands, “we’ve walked these roads too many times, Y/N. I know the ropes and all your lines. If it’s over,” he winced, downing the rest of his drink before squaring his body to hers. The words, no matter how painful, needed to be said, “stop asking me to come back. Stop asking me to do that!” His temper slipped from him, the words gaining in volume for the depth of pain he felt to say them. “It’s like you wait ‘til I’m a better man, and then you break me all over again,” he barked in a restrained shout.

Y/N could feel her eyes widen at the words. She hadn't a clue how he felt for her. She always thought she would be the one to walk away from their relationship, if one could call it that, tearful and heartbroken.

She choked on words she didn’t have, watching his face as his eyes danced across hers. Y/N figured it be in her best interest to digest his words a moment before speaking back. She’d only ever seen him vulnerable by way of missing his boys, but never over a woman, a conquest at that. She never stopped to think that the man could actually carry a torch for her, and having them presented to her when he was ready to call it quits all in one flush was overwhelming to say the least.

“John, I - I don’t know why I let you go,” she stammered, watching his eyes go cold. “Tell me it’s not too late,” she pleaded, throwing a hand onto his arm and scooting to the edge of her chair.

Sucking air in through his teeth, his eyes shot down to where her arm fell. Despite wanting to, he couldn’t bring himself to move it away.

The chair squeaked as she scooted it closer to his, “it’s gotta be you, John,” she said, her voice desperate and trembling. “I won’t give up on you this time,” she forced out, the words stronger than any prior.

His eyes shut forcefully before he slipped his hand away. Cold air swept under her hand where John’s arm had just been. Is this really the end? She thought, taking in a deep and shaky breath to keep from crying.

Eyes still squeezing shut, he pushed his chair further from hers. He needed a moment to think, to sort through all these damn thoughts. He brought his elbows onto the table and dropped his head into his hands.

She sat back, watching John as he raked his hand through his hair. A bubbling filled her, one that deep breathing wouldn’t rid of and forced her to a stand. She wanted to pace, but didn’t want to leave his side.

Y/N, overwhelmed and scared of losing the one thing that mattered to her, blurted out the words, “John, please, no,” she pleaded, having no control of the tears any longer. “I need you,” she sputtered out in a wet sob, exposing the pathetically fragile side of herself she swore she’d never show to anyone, not even John.

Had she known that’s all he needed to see to rethink his, what he thought was an iron-clad, decision, she might have done it sooner. His wide eyes met back up with hers, now somber and not quite, but almost regretful.

“I don’t want it to be over,” she said through shaking sobs, her eyes forced shut by the downpour of tears. Bringing her sleeve covered wrist to her face, she tried to wipe them away, but they were falling too quickly to keep up with.

She hiccuped as she tried to catch her breath, and John couldn’t help but to crumble at how miserable she looked standing in front of him. He slowly stood to his feet, and looked down at her as she covered her face with both of her hands.

As if she wasn’t crying hard enough already, feeling his warm, muscular arms secure around her fragile frame sent her spiraling towards deeper wails. Her sobs vibrated against his chest, and though reluctantly, he brought his weathered hand to the back of her head.

“I’m sorry,” she whined into his chest.

He exhaled a slightly miffed sigh, but brought his free hand to the small of her back, pulling her tightly against him. Allowing his eyes to shut, he bowed his head down and planted a gutting, open mouthed kiss on the top of her head.

“I forgive you, but I-“ he stopped, opening his eyes and with an open palm smoothed out her hair. He brought his voice to a hoarse whisper, “but I can’t forget it,” he said, shaking his head.

When John no longer felt his chest rattling with her deep sobs, he gripped onto her arms to peel her from him. Keeping one hand steady on her shoulder he used the thumb of his other to wipe the underneath of her eyes.

With tears still dripping from it, her small smile was pure, reborn almost, and it pinched his insides with an afflicting eagerness to kiss her swollen lips.

He had his ways of hiding what was on his mind, like absentmindedly tonguing his top lip, but she could always see it in his eyes, the way his pupils expanded and iris’ shifting from his normal hazel to a silvery, mint green.

Her mind pulled at her with a single thought. As if he had heard it too, they both realized that his thumb still sat on her cheek, but his hand had slid onto her neck, and rested just underneath her ear. She let her eyes shut as she leaned into it. His breathing quickened for a short moment, eyes falling back onto her pursed lips.

His eyes dawdled to the dip between her chin and mouth, lazily and desirously soaking her in, as if for the last time. He traced the outline of her face with his eyes before finally allowing them to fall onto her neck, half-intentionally fixating on the imprint of his fingers as he moved his hand down to her collarbone. His attention loitered on the muscles flexing in her neck as she dipped her head back, ever receptive of his touches.

As his grip tightened in the way he knew she loved the most, he couldn’t help the voiceless moan that slipped from his lips as hers opened, needy and desperate for his touch. With his hand still affectionately wrapped around her neck, he leaned in, sending chills down her spine as his lips touched her ears.

“You’re not gonna burn me again, are you Kitten?” he growled against the underneath of her ear, fully aware of the rumbling the vocalization left in his throat. She shook her head delicately. He lifted his head only enough to take her earlobe in his mouth, massaging it with his lips before biting down softly.

When he pulled away, her head dropped towards him. With his hand still on her neck, he used the other to grab onto her chin, gently forcing her to face opposite of both of them, and brought his lips to her ear once more.

Her body shuddered as the words filled her, “I don’t wanna be friends,” he said before letting her face him, eyes wide in shock, “cause I’ll always want more,” he said in a growl with a small shake of his head, and eyebrows lifted slightly.

With his fingers resting under her chin, he tilts her head back. Biting down on his bottom lip, he soaks her in. Captivating and deep were her eyes as she studied his perplexing expression.

Giving into temptation, he slid his hands on her throat, one up and one down, to position them on either side of her face. Savoring every moment, he slit his lips as he drew them near hers. The sound of hearts beating rapidly filled both of their ears as he dropped his lips onto hers.

Her breath was hot and sticky against his mouth, and for a moment the kiss was static, like they both needed to let their thoughts catch up to these new feelings. With eyes clenched shut and kissing the man of her dreams, Y/N was surprised that a tear was able to slip through, and chalked it up to the extensive range of emotions that they had just trudged through.

Opening her mouth, she swept his lips with her tongue and wrapped her arms around his waist. Merely out of habit, he wanted to reach around and pull her hands from him, as the affection was something that, in the past, was only permitted had she asked nicely. But times have changed, he reminded himself, and settled on biting down on her lower lip, emitting an amorous squeak from her.

His hands drifted onto her shoulders before falling onto her arms, and gripping her tightly. Her fingernails drove into his sides and forced a grunt from him.

Chuckling, he pulled away from the kiss and through squinted eyes, he watched as hers opened slowly. He could feel that the smile on his face was different than he ever pictured himself having, and she was surely to blame. Whether that was a good thing or not, would have to be dealt with in the future.

In that moment, though, he was content on taking a night or two to rediscover her. He wanted to take his time this go around, to listen to her body as he brushed his lips against every inch of it, to hear her blissful pleas and moans of pleasure as he performed all of his dirty thoughts on her. It made him excited to know that she needed him as much as he needed her, and to express that to her in as much time as it took was all he wanted. Whether it be a lifetime or a fleeting moment was no longer a care in his mind, he had her and that was all that mattered.

PermaTags<3: @waywardblueshun​  @81mysteriouslyme​ @drakelover78​

[missjosie27]

The Other World- Part 1

Ladies and gentleman, I’d like to say my customary few words before you read this fic. As most in the HM community know on here, there are many who have drawn or written out our characters for this extremely flawed game that we’ve come to love one way or the other. One of the best and most thought out is the one created by @hogwartsmysterystory better known as Ethren Whitecross. I think we can all agree how incredible his writing is and how it’s inspired many people, including myself. This is my own way of saying thank you and to pay homage to his MC.

The following story is split into two parts, since the whole story is too long to release all at once. It is my tribute to him and his writing and I hope you all enjoy reading it. Part 2 will be released tomorrow. 

If anyone needs background on my MC, please visit my tumblr page and MC info. I realize not everyone will get the context right away. 

Enjoy!

A ringing in David Grant’s ears echoed as though it were the loudest noise on the planet. It was also hardly the only commotion going on at the moment. Within the confines of the Ministry, the scene could be described as quite chaotic.

It’s to be expected. Especially given that You Know Who has been dead for less than forty eight hours.

Standing within the spacious halls of the atrium, the once precocious curse breaker of Hogwarts was a much different man from the days of chasing after his long lost brother. Gone was the easy going smirk, the baby faced features of a teenager ready to take on whatever the world had to throw at him. What remained was a tired, unshaved, long haired ex-Auror who had suffered the trials of war, intrigue and then some. The once warm hazel-blue eyes were dulled to a flint like cynicism unrivaled even by the hardiest of warriors.

With the exception of Harry Potter (the stories were certainly true about his exploits), the law enforcement of Magical Britain had suffered more than most. Some had kept up the charade of the blue robes by staying in the Ministry after Voldemort’s takeover, others were placed under the imperious curse (poor Dawlish), while others yet defected and joined the resistance. But to David, that mattered not. The end of the battle of Hogwarts only brought a simple question to his mind.

Where was his wife?

Memories of the battle against her parents flashed in his mind once more- the sickening crunch of Matthias Snyde’s neck breaking, the unhinged screams of his wife, Lyra, who ordered her daughter to kill him. The battle for the soul of Merula Snyde. It had taken every once of his willpower to break through to her and he was certain she had been placed under the imperius curse herself. No one could control his wife, not unless they were prepared to do so by using the Dark Arts. However, that did not change the fact that she still carried the Dark Mark on her forearm and that in turn marked her as a Death Eater and a traitor.

Funny how fast things can change in the span of two days, he thought humorlessly.

There was no joy in his heart, no consolation to be had. He had stepped into the halls of this Merlin forsaken place for a single purpose and would not leave without knowing that Merula would not spend an eternity in Azkaban for crimes she was not culpable for. Consequences be damned, he would spend an eternity in there with her if he had to.

He needed to see someone with the authority to release her. Someone close to the newly appointed Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt, his mentor and friend. Surely, he would listen.

Finally, amongst the crowd of hectic witches and wizards, he spotted a familiar face, Williamson, one of the few Aurors that had actually been clever enough to escape the Ministry and resist the dark regime before it happened. He was also a protégé of Kingsley and was probably in a position to speak to him given the circumstances, even if they were not the closest of blokes in the past.

He grabbed the shorter man by the shoulder as he hurried by.

“Williamson.”

“Grant?” the dirty blond haired Auror exclaimed. “Is that really you?”

“No, it’s the Archbishop of Canterbury. Of course, it’s me.”

Williamson shook his head.

“Still haven’t lost that infamous sarcasm, have you Grant? It used to be a lot funnier.”

David’s patience, already on thin ice, showed signs of cracking. He had not gone traveled thousands of miles and collected numerous bounties across Europe and the U.S. to bandy words with a lesser Auror.

“You know why I’m here, Williamson. I need to speak to Kingsley.”

The man gave a haughty sigh, though similar to everyone else, he too showed signs of immense fatigue and stress.

“The Minister,” he corrected. “Is not seeing anyone at the current moment as he has quite enough on his plate. Namely, the envoys from France and the United States.”

“He can make time for me. My wife is currently locked up in a cell somewhere in this fucking hellhole and I want assurances she’s not going to be charged with anything.”

Williamson tried to tug himself out of his grip, but David was much stronger and much more seasoned than his counterpart. The former recognized this and attempted to placate him as best he could.

“For God’s sake David, let me go,” he said, shaking his shoulder away. “I don’t know what’s going to happen to your wife. And I don’t think the Minister does either.”

That evasive response got his blood boiling again. Even with Britain and shambles, red tape and bureaucracy still impeded him.

“She’s innocent,” he growled. “She was under the imperius curse and nothing she did was voluntary.”

“We can’t prove that one way or the other. She’s got the mark and is the suspect of several crimes perpetuated against muggle born families.”

David could feel himself going numb, refusing to believe that Merula ever did anything so horrific under her own willpower. It wasn’t possible. Even as young children, when she was at her worst, he never truly believed she was capable of such atrocity.

“You’re wrong….”he managed to choke out. “You’re wrong and I can prove it. I just need to see Kingsley.”

This time it was Williamson’s turn to get serious as he received a hard stare.

“Frankly, you don’t have much to stand on either. Your own conduct in this war is under scrutiny as well. We’ve received word from the American, German, and Russian governments about various undertakings that occurred under your watch. Bounties, assassinations…”

“I did what I had to,” David replied with quiet fury. “You have no right to judge me for anything, Williamson. I’ve suffered through enough, I’ve…” he barely contained the lump in his throat as thoughts of the deceased permeated through his mind, people he’d never talk to or interact with again. People he loved.

“I just want my wife back. Please, she doesn’t deserve to be treated like the rest of those monsters.”

A flicker of sympathy appeared on his colleague’s face, but it was clear from his defeated posture there was nothing he could or was willing to do.

“I’m sorry, Grant. My hands are tied. The dust hasn’t even settled at Hogwarts nor on this new Ministry and you come barging in here demanding a Death Eater be released? Not only can I not guarantee such an action, but the question of your reinstatement among the Auror office remains to be seen as well. I’m sure the Minister will see you when he has sufficient time. Until then, there’s nothing I can do.”

And with that he walked off without another word, leaving David with no prospects or immediate solutions to his problem. He was completely and truly alone.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Quiet. Then again, this place was always quiet.

In the aftermath of his plea falling on deaf ears, David did not heed Williamson or any other Ministry official. Given the chaos surrounding Britain, there was no one to stop him from going into the Department of Mysteries, namely the room of death.

He had only been in here once. And that was in the aftermath of a massive battle between the Order of the Phoenix and the Death Eaters over some ancient prophecy that You Know Who had desired for some reason or another (the circumstances surrounding his connection with Harry Potter were still dubious). That basically had been mop up duty and ensuring that Tonks was not too seriously hurt.

A massive lump formed in his throat at the thought of the pink haired witch, one of his best friends and partners in crime. Seeing her body- pale, cold, and fragile body on the stone floor of Hogwarts- was too much to bear. Despite Tulip’s attempts to console him, there was no consolation to be had.

David shut his eyes as silent tears rolled down.

Tonks, Fred, Talbott, Badeea, Ben….they’re all gone. They’re gone and I’ll never be able to see them again.

If there had been a stray rock or pebble, he would have flung it into the archway itself. But there was none to be had. The emptiness was symbolic of room itself, black and devoid of life. Personification of death, the lives robbed by its random cruelty. Because that’s what this was in his mind: simply cruel

Dropping to his knees, he ran his hands through his almost-shoulder length hair, the tears dripping off the stubble of his chin and onto the floor. By now the shock of the battle had well worn off and the only thing remained was the unadulterated, raw pain that marked its end. Hundreds were dead, including numerous friends and coworkers. And now his wife was essentially condemned to live out the rest of her days in prison, victim of a family legacy forced upon her.

It’s my fault, he thought to himself. I couldn’t protect her. I let her fucking manipulative, piece of shit parents get their hands on her and now our entire lives are bloody dead on arrival.

After all the fighting, after all of his efforts to find Merula and end the pestilential war that plagued the U.K. for almost twenty years, he had failed. Even with You Know Who dead, the ideology he perpetuated took a piece of himself and his life with him.

What was the point? What was there left to live for or hold onto? Merula wasn’t dead but she might as well have been- a fantasy of something that wasn’t coming back. Just like Tonks.

Like Ben….

Like Badeea…

Like Talbott….

There is no point, came the internal conclusion.

Suddenly, David felt another presence within the room. At first, he believed it to be some stuck up official who was about to order him to leave (in which case he would have been in for a rude awakening) but he found that the feeling was much different than sensing a person sneaking up behind you. No, this was…supernatural.

The presence was not one entity, rather it felt like multiple. Even more unsettling was that these entities seemed to speaking to him.

David Grant…..David Grant

It was barely more than a whisper, but it was extremely audible, as though the message was specifically designed for his ears only.

David Grant….David Grant

He looked around and realized that this voice, or voices, were coming from the mysterious archway itself. Even more mysterious, he felt drawn to it, despite his own fear.

“Who…who are you?” he said standing up walking towards the archway.

Come….Come….

“Come where? I don’t understand.”

Come see….come see….

At this point, David was so delirious, so filled with grief and emotion he didn’t even consider he might be going mad. Who were these spirits that desired to speak with him? What did they want to show him?

“Tonks?” he asked aloud, swallowing his throat. “Ben? Talbott? Grandpa? Is that you?

He reached his hand toward the shadowy, white substance that moved about within the archway, all rationality forgotten. The knowledge that this door was the veil to a world beyond life, to death itself, did not register.

I can see my friends again. Maybe I can go to a place and be with Merula again and start over. No war, no pain. Just a life worth living, a life better than this…

As the tip of his index finger touched the veil a white, hot flash blinded him as a force more powerful than he had ever experienced tore into the very soul of his being. Time and space seemed to be ripping itself apart and back again as he was plunged into an unknown cosmic channel that seemed to go faster than the speed of light, yet slower than the oldest tortoise. Just as David thought he might go mad from the insanity around him, everything went black.

Then he knew no more.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The scent of daisies and wildflowers wafted in the air, carried by a soft breeze. The air was warm and tender as it was on a summer day in Britain. The chirping of birds signified the season and the promise it offered to all creatures.

Hazel blue eyes fluttered open.

Thinking back to what just occurred, David sat up and saw that he was in a meadow on the edge of a forest of some sort. Tall grasses partially obscured his view, and the ground itself was so soft, he almost wished to remain there. However, curiosity got the better of him.

Standing up, the scene became more familiar. This was no ordinary meadow. It was a place he and someone very dear to him had once visited during a weekend at Hogwarts. A peaceful place that had been the spot of one of the greatest moments of his life.

This is Hogwarts. Or at least the edge of the grounds.

He saw the forest, the same one he once saw Fenrir Greyback emerge from in his first year, its tall trees just as imposing as ever, though less so in daylight. To his north, was the castle itself, its massive presence right where he left it…except it wasn’t. There were no visible signs of damage to the longstanding magical institution, at least none that he could see. It was as if the Giants who had wreaked havoc with their clubs on the towers, never existed in the first place.

Frowning, David turned his gaze downward. Though the day was cloudy, visibility was still strong. The hoops of the Quidditch pitch could be seen even from this distance. Sloping all the way across the hill was Hagrid’s hut, the fire damage to its roof also gone.

“What on earth?” he muttered to himself. This couldn’t be Hogwarts, he was just there. The state of the school was a mess and the physical damage immeasurable. How could it have been gone in the span of one day? Come to think of it, how long had he actually been out for after he touched that veil?

“Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea, after all,” he said aloud. “But how in the hell did I get here?”

Whatever the case, he needed to find out what exactly was going on. If a significant amount of time had passed, Merlin only knew what happened since his absence.

But before he did, another marking caught his eye, one that he was unfamiliar with. To the untrained eye, it looked like a piece of dark granite stuck in the middle of the ground, but David knew better. Whatever it was, it warranted a closer look. As Kingsley always told him- “Check every aspect of your surroundings. If something is out of the ordinary, investigate with caution and care.” As David often joked, it was his own version of ‘constant vigilance’ employed by Mad-Eye Moody. Really, it wasn’t a surprise the smooth and capable man became Minister.

Deciding to test apparation this far from the school itself, he discovered that there were no wards and saved himself the walk.

Upon closer inspection, he saw that the gray semi-obelisk was actually a monument. A monument to those who had died in the fighting against Voldemort and his forces during that fateful night. He read the inscription.

Here lies those who willingly gave their lives in the face of the greatest evil our world has yet seen. May their sacrifice never be forgotten, and their memories preserved by the love of family and friends. This monument is a tribute to them and the day of May 2nd, 1998.

David could feel goosebumps rush down his body as he glanced at the names engraved on the stone. There was at a least a hundred, which thinking back to the official dead count was about the number killed in the battle. His heart sank as the casualties remained unchanged, ‘Nymphadora Tonks’, ‘Remus Lupin’, ‘Fred Weasley’, ‘Ben Copper’, and others were all listed. Curiously, however, there were others he didn’t even recognize while some were conspicuously absent. Badeea’s name was not among the dead nor was Talbott Winger. One of the names, a man by the name of ‘Ethren Whitecross’ had the stars and stripes flag next to it, signifying he was American.

“There were no Americans at that battle as far as I know,” David said to himself. “I spent the last two weeks of the war trying to bloody well convince them not to intervene, didn’t I?”

It suddenly occurred to him, that this monument had to have been created after the epic battle and sure enough when he checked the creation date, his guess proved to correct.

“Commemorated September 1st, 1998,” he said. “Paid for by the Board of Governors with the consent of Headmistress Minerva McGonagall.”

David almost had to sit down again and suddenly felt very disoriented.

I’m…I’m in the future, he realized. But how is this possible? Has such a thing ever been confirmed?

Sure, there were stories, but they were usually old wives tales, legends that carried no bearing on reality. Though time turners technically had the ability to send someone back in time, they were all destroyed three years prior and besides, it could only send you to the maximum of thirty-six hours back in time not forward.

There was no question, he needed answers. And the sooner he received them the better. What year was it? Were people wondering where he went? What was the state of the Ministry? Was Kingsley still in charge? Were the Death Eaters given trial or executed? His stomach then dropped a few notches.

Merula

Above all else, the fate of his wife was the most important aspect of this investigation. If something had happened to her without him there to defend her honor…well he didn’t want to think about that just yet.

“She’d come and find me no matter where she was and tear my ear off,” he said with a dry chuckle.

Wasting no more time, David decided to visit the Ministry first. They would surely hold the records and documents about all trials, prisoners, and even the status of current, ex, or retired Aurors. People might be shocked or incredulous to see him barge in randomly, but it was worth a shot.

Making sure he maintained the necessary distance from the wards, David apparated away and in a flash was gone.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Unbeknownst to everyone aside from the Minister and the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, there was a secret entrance to the Auror Office in a random pay phone booth in Manchester. As part of their training and oath, they were not allowed to use it except in cases of extreme emergency such as an attack or during a war. And though David’s situation didn’t qualify under either circumstance, he figured that going missing for God knows how long and not knowing what happened was enough of an excuse. Besides, if Tonks didn’t get caught for sneaking a whole case of beer during training, it was a safe bet no one would give him grief over this either.

Trying not to think about Tonks and making sure no muggles were looking, David stepped into the booth, awaiting to be transported to the main Auror office. It was quite a simple process. The old muggle machine had been charmed to recognize the magical signature of any law enforcement officer in its ranks. All you had to do was place your wand in the tray, say aloud your name and you’d be whisked away to the halls of the Aurors.

David did just that, as he could feel the magical sensors checking him over including multiple dark detectors.

“David John Grant,” he said, showing his badge.

However, instead of finding himself inside the Ministry in the next second, a wave of green slime appeared out of nowhere, drenching him from head to toe in a disgusting ooze.

“ACK! What the f-”

He quickly exited the booth to the curious glances of some muggle onlookers, who were no doubt attracted by the minor commotion. Giving them all a quick smile and a wave, David ducked behind one of the brick buildings the city was known for, cursing himself and the booth.

A few cleaning charms later, there was little trace of the substance on him (save for his vans) but the incident only brought more questions. Why had the secret entrance denied him? Technically speaking, he hadn’t officially resigned from the Aurors when he went into hiding and took up being a vigilante. His magical signature and badge should have been more than enough to avoid the pitfall of having that odious slime dropped all over him. It was merely a safeguard against dark wizards, but it also revealed something else.

Whatever the reason, the Ministry no longer recognized his credentials. That in itself was an ominous sign. If he wanted answers, he would have to go about it the old fashioned way.

Ensuring no one was peering into the alley, David apparated out of sight once more.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

One trip to London and a red phone booth later, David was finally inside the Ministry. Walking down the sleek, marble halls, it was almost exactly as he had remembered- the same statues, same fountain, same amounts of flying memos zooming in and out of their respective stations. The hustle and bustle was back and there was no sign of any damage from the war.

If the Ministry looks this good, it must be a fairly long time since the last battle.

Even more promising was the person sitting at the front entrance desk. David recognized those dark features and orange sideburns anywhere: Talbott Winger. He was wearing the blue robes most Aurors did while on duty and that was also a good sign. He, Tonks, and Talbott were the last ones accepted for mentorship in 1991 which meant he would know just what the hell was going on.

He was just about to greet his old friend, until he stopped dead in his tracks, recalling the monument and how Talbott’s name wasn’t on the list of the fallen. Seeing him alive and well at the Ministry all but confirmed this was the case. But this only brought more confusion to David’s already very bamboozled mind.

He died during the battle. I witnessed it with my own eyes. So if this is the future, how can he still be alive?

None of this was making any sense at all. Nevertheless, David knew that he had to try and do something to figure this mess out. Though naturally reserved, Talbott did not hesitate to help the rare few he called ‘friend’. Perhaps he could provide some assistance, whatever the reason for this madness.

“Hey, Talbott.”

The ebony skinned wizard looked up, his sharp eyes penetrating him like the hawk of his animagus form.

“Can I help you?” he asked, his voice betraying no hint of recognition.

David rolled his eyes playfully as he leaned on the desk.

“Come on, mate. Quite having me on. It’s Dave.”

An awkward silence followed as he sought to clarify.

“David Grant.”

Again, the name did not compute as Talbott merely gaze a polite look of bewilderment.

“I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met.”

Okay, now this was definitely getting weird. How did Talbott, even if he was somehow not dead, not even know who he was?

“Talbott, I’m your friend. David Grant. We went to Hogwarts together. I helped you find your lost necklace that your mother gave you.”

That statement lit up the dark, brown eyes of the animagus though it was not out of familiarity, rather the emotion seemed to be pain and shock.

“I don’t know how you know about that, but I can assure you, you were not the one to help me find my necklace nor did I attend Hogwarts with you. Now, is there something I can help you with?”

David was practically reeling. How was it possible that the man he had gone through so much with didn’t even so much as recognize him? It didn’t make sense. Nothing about this made sense.

Alright, at the very least, I can get in here, find my old office and pour through some old files. I’m sure whoever’s in charge now can clear this up.

“Yeah…uh…I’m an Auror,” he said showing his badge. “Listen, I’ve been gone awhile for reasons you wouldn’t believe anyway but I just need to get to my old office and talk to someone. Is that possible at least?”

“Give me your badge and wand.”

Short and to the point, no time for idle chit chat. That was Talbott alright, which made the situation all the more disconcerting.

Talbott took his items and examined them, muttering a few standard identification and security spells, before getting up from his chair.

“One moment, please.”

David raised an eyebrow but didn’t object. Though he didn’t know why a simple identification spell required going into a backroom, he was sure whatever issue popped up would be cleared soon enough. After what seemed like half an hour (it was only ten minutes, but it seemed longer), Talbott returned and handed his wand and badge back to him.

“I’m not quite sure what the issue is, sir. But there’s no record of any David Grant of having worked for the Auror Department, or any other Ministry job for that matter.”

The twenty five year old leaned forward slightly, as if not hearing him correctly.

“I’m sorry what?”

“Your badge is authentic but there’s no employment history of anybody with your name here. When I applied more tests to your wand, it didn’t match any current witch or wizard in the entirety of the United Kingdom, nor anything ever sold from Ollivanders.”

This time the confusion was shared by both men, as David looked incredulously at his wand and badge as though he no longer knew what they were, while Talbott appeared to be a cross between dumbfounded and even a tad sympathetic.

“Nothing at all? No David, or John Grant or anyone with that name?”

“Nothing. If it makes you feel any better, I’ve never seen anything like this before. I want to believe you. But as far as the government is concerned, you don’t exist.”

David let those words hit him a few times before even contemplating a course of action.

As far as the government is concerned, you don’t exist

You don’t exist…

You don’t exist….

“I-I don’t understand,” he finally spoke aloud.

“Neither do I,” Talbott affirmed. “But unfortunately, I can’t let you in the Ministry at this time. I’m sorry.”

David didn’t even bother to argue the point. It seemed as though every time he found a simple method to answer his questions, the end result would just add more to his ‘to-do’ list. The revelation that the British Ministry held no record of anyone with his name was the icing on the cake.

“Well…uh…thank you anyway.”

Turning around to leave, there was one more question burning on David’s mind, one that he was sure even this version of Talbott wouldn’t mind revealing.

“Would you at least mind telling me this? What day and year is it?”

Talbott gave him a questioning look but gave him a straight answer.

“May 4th, 1999,” he answered.

So a whole year has passed? That explains why the war damage has been fixed. But not everything else. Including my own status as living, breathing person.

Then he noticed something else. A small pin attached to the front of Talbott’s Auror robes. Upon closer inspection, he saw it was an American Flag, the second one he had seen today.

“I beg your pardon but why do you have a lapel of the United States flag?”

“Full of questions, aren’t we? It’s a commemoration.”

David didn’t understand but then again what else was new. He needed to ask for more.

“What does America have to do with the commemoration of the end of the war?”

There was no mistaking the obvious look of pain and sorrow on Talbott’s face this time. So distraught that look was, he shifted his gaze to the side.

“The citizens of the United Kingdom weren’t the only ones who gave up their lives in order to stop You Know Who.”

It was there that David ceased, prudently unwilling to press the matter further. Talbott wasn’t going to speak more on the subject anyway and to do so would have been inappropriate anyway.

“Thank you for your help, good day.”

David didn’t turn to witness Talbott’s reaction. He had seen enough. From being thrusted a year forward in time, to seeing an old friend alive, right down to his own seemingly non-existence, this whole scenario was becoming positively ridiculous. And if he couldn’t find information at the Ministry there was another source he could turn to.

It was a time for a trip to Diagon Alley.

[avanalae]

Hello person who is alive, I am down with a summer flu (dun dun DUN) for the meme I want 12, 13, 17 28 and 32 (kufufufufufufu)

Hello, hun! Sorry for the delayed response. I was down for a while due to the lack of response and I've been considering something recently that's been on my mind quite a lot. Also you can't see full asks on mobile so I had to remember to to answer when I got on the computer. *rolls eyes*

Anyway. I hope you're all better now. I got the flu myself not long ago, even though I got the vaccine. :') Sigh...

-

12. Is there an episode above all others that inspires you just a little bit more?

Okay so this is a tough question for me, but only because I don't really understand what it's asking. By "episode" does it mean, like, for a tv show or something? Because when I first read through this list it didn't seem specific to any one kind of media so I am thoroughly confused. So I'll think of something and if you want me to answer something else, lemme know.

Hmmm... Well, as an artist I have always loved animated movies and shows over live action ones, so those have had much more of an impact on me since I was little. Things like Studio Ghibli or Disney, shows like Avatar the Last Airbender, lots and lots of video games, and some anime eventually (tho I'll always be more of a manga girl). I think the top three fandoms that have influenced me over the years are Harry Potter, Batman, and Legend of Zelda. Each sticks with me to this day and has had a lot of affect on my writing, obviously or not.  So not really episodes, but fandoms. If you wanna know about a certain fandom and it's influence, tho, feel free to ask.

13. What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever come across?

WRITE FOR YOURSELF. It's also probalby the hardest piece of advice to  follow for a lot of us. But my best friend and I always pass this bit of advice back and forth between the two of us, because we both need to hear it so often. And it's true. Writing isn't about doing things for others. It's about yourself - putting yourself and your ideas and love to paper (quote unquote) so that you can share a bit of yourself with others. But putting that piece of yourself out there is so hard and it can ake you feel fragile. So the solution? Feel proud of it. Love it. Love it enough that it doesn't matter what the response is. Because it's a part of you and you are wonderful.

17. Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

I am very much a person who writes from start to finish. This doesn't mean I never have notes or ideas for further on down the line, but I'm much more likely to flesh things out more as I come to them in the story. This has worked for me for the most part because I don't write many... uh... long stories, I guess. I'm more of a oneshot or connected oneshots kinda girl these last few years. Though I do have some chapter fics going right now and some that... I really, uh... should finish. >__>

28. Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

Haha! Oh, hun, you know I'll always consider you one of my faves. We've bonded over hurting Tim too often to ever be anything else but faves. And I'll always remember the old crowd fondly, though it's been almost five years now since we started drifting apart. Heartlogos, Ailea, BlueThursday, MGNemesi, Varevare, Justsayins, Wisiadan, Lectoral, Jcolney... *sighs, lost in memories* So many good times. I'll admit that I haven't been as active or attached since, and couldn't name some of the writers I like right now offhand. I'd have to go looking and such.

But yeah. I miss the good times. :')

32. How do you feel about smut?

Darling. My dearest. *gently puts hand on shoulder* Love, you know very well the answer to that question. But I can't blame you.

I am all for smut, which is odd considering my personal opinions on the idea of sex and I even considering to appear in the same sentence in, uh... most any way. Anyway. My darlings, I am in full support of all smut. Get creative. Get kinky. Get crazy. Explore yourself and your interests in fanfiction to your hearts' content.

And if you need ideas I'm always a willing ear. uwu

[heyyyharry]

In Another Life Series: Chapter 11 - The End

Series description: Y/N and Harry are soulmates and destined to meet in every lifetime, but no matter how many times they reincarnate and find each other again, they never seem to get it right.

AU: reincarnation, soulmate!harry, prince!harry, assistant!y/n, witch!y/n.

Chapter 10 - The Sidekicks: The protagonists aren’t always the only heroes.

wattpad link ❤︎  Before you read the chapter, I have "a few" words to say *clear throat and open my Oscar winning speech* (or you can just start reading and skip this altogether, it's fine).

When I was reaching the end of Flatmate with no intention of writing the sequel, I wanted to write something new that would be just as good. My mind was empty, and I came up with many bullshit ideas and almost settled down with some of them (glad i DIDN'T!). Then as I was listening to 1000 Times by Sarah Bareilles, from the lyrics, I pictured two strangers meeting each other for the first time, feeling like they've known each other forever, but having no clue that they used to be lovers in a different lifetime. It's just so romantic in my head and I knew I could do this idea justice. So thank you Sarah Bareilles, if you read this fic lemme know lmao. The painting idea was originally from Marc Levy's novel with the same name (Idk what it's title in French, but in my translated language it's) In Another Life, so just to be clear I didn't really come up with that, credit to the genius who did. Thank you "The Tudors" for all this knowledge I have about the English dynasties in the 16th century, and I'm genuinely sorry if I offend anyone with all the historical inaccuracies, please forgive me. Thank you everyone who's read and waited and commented on every chapter to help me make this as good as possible. I know it's only fiction but to read about how my writing makes some of you happy and feel better really does make me happy and feel better and motivated to write more.

I've had a couple alternative endings to this series, and I think this one is the best (among the others), but if you want to know what the other endings are, feel free to drop me an ask! Or simply tell me what you expected from this chapter before knowing the actual ending here!

Okay, bye, thank you for putting up with my extra ass! Kissy, Allie.❤︎

___________________________

Harry ended up spending the rest of his afternoon chatting with his assigned nurse. He'd told the old woman about what had been going on in his life, how he'd met Y/N, the dreams he'd had ever since his trip to the museum, the faces in those dreams that looked just like her. And even though it did feel nice to finally get all this burden off his chest, he still found it strange that she barely opened up about herself. All he knew about her was that her name was Margaret, or Maggie as she preferred to be called, and she lived alone, no husband, no children, and had been working as a nurse for as long as she could remember.

"I have a feeling that we've met before," he told her at last because it had been bothering him since they first met. 

But the woman just looked at him in surprise as she said she didn't think so. "Although, you do remind me of someone I used to know." She studied the look on his face, pondering for a little while.

"Oh, who is it?" He asked.

"I had a niece, she fell madly in love with a young man whom you remind me of."

"Had?"

"She...passed away years ago, unfortunately."

Harry could see the clear change in her facial expression when she said those words, so he didn't want to dig too deep into that hurtful memory of hers, even though he was curious to know about the man who resembled him. However, it was Maggie who continued with this topic he thought she wanted to avoid.

"That young man was very passionate about my dear Annalise as you are for the girl you love."

"Her name was Annalise?"

"Yes, it means Grace of God. I helped her mother pick that name."

"Very beautiful, ma'am." Harry pressed his lips into a smile when he saw how hers was beaming as she talked about her beloved niece. "I'm sure Annalise and her man were very happy together?"

"No. They never got together." Maggie shook her head slowly. "His family didn't want him to be with her and he didn't have a choice."

"So after she...uhm..."

"Passed away?"

"Yes, after she passed away, what happened to him?"

There was a long pause as the old lady's eyes shifted to her feet, and Harry felt like he never should've asked that question. He took a wild guess that the young man must've had the same tragic ending as the girl, if that was true, then this was definitely the most heartbreaking story he'd heard in a long time.

"He moved on, married the girl his family wanted him to marry, but he never stopped loving her. He died of a heart attack, and his last word was her name."

Harry felt a lump in his throat and he had no idea why. He was really hurting over a story of two strangers whom he knew nothing about. His faith in true love had always been faint, after hearing this he had completely lost hope.

"Had the timing been different, they could've ended up together," he said, breaking the melancholy silence that had taken over the atmosphere surrounding them.

Maggie released a long heavyhearted sigh as she crossed her legs and leaned back against the chair. She stopped to think for a moment, then she told him, "but I like to think they'll meet each other and start again in another life. Because true love never dies. Do you agree?"

No. Harry didn't.

He thought people had had enough chances in one lifetime already and God wouldn't be so merciful to offer endless trials for them to try and fix their mistakes again and again, lifetime after lifetime. Despite so, he still told Maggie he agreed with her and added, "I'll have my fingers crossed for the two of them."

As he was about to move on to another, more cheerful topic to discuss, the old lady spoke up again, "she wrote him a letter every single day they'd spent together."

"Oh, did he get a chance to read them?"

"He did. I gave them to him myself. He was very emotional, he burst into tears."

"Wow..."

"Before he passed away he gave them back to me." Maggie rose from the chair by his hospital bed and went to grab her purse, which sat on the table by the window. "I have them with me here, do you want to read them?"

"You bring them with you to work?"

The perplexity on his face made her smile as she pulled out a pile of papers which seemed pretty old, they'd turned to a yellowish brown and were all a bit torn at the edges. "I was moving to a new home today so I brought them with me, I don't want to put them with the rest of the other stuff in my flat, they're very fragile."

"I don't think I should read them, they're very personal, ma'am." Harry shook his head when she gave the letters to him.

"You're an artist, aren't you? Maybe these love letters will inspire you in your songwriting. And I know my darling Ann would love to share them with people who have the same heart as the man she loved."

Did she just say Ann? That was the name Harry had heard many times in his dreams about Y/N. But he could be wrong.

"I'm gonna leave them here for you to read. You have nothing fun to do around here anyway," Maggie chuckled then walked away from his bed, not expecting a reply from her confused patient.

.

.

Madam Maggie told Edward she'd come to him because of Ann. She's asked her to. Before the fire incident, Ann had a bad feeling, which she just assumed had something to do with Edward marrying someone else. Little did she know, that bad feeling she'd thought was insignificant ended up costing her her own life.

In her despair, the poor girl had snuck outside of the castle to see Madam Maggie and asked for two little favors. Thanked to Ann's favors, Madam Maggie showed up just in time to find an unconscious Edward lying on the floor of his chamber.

"Her powers allowed her to detect sickness, she knew you had a weak heart, which was also why you fainted earlier. She didn't have the heart to tell you, so she came to see me."

"Ann asked you to cure me?" Edward inquired, placing a hand on the left side of his chest, only to get disappointed by the answer he received from this woman.

"I can make you feel less pain, but I don't think I can cure you completely. Witches can fix broken bones and mend wounds, but we cannot magic away something so permanent like the heart disease you've carried since the day you were born."

Edward nodded understandingly. He seemed so unbothered for someone who had just found out his heart had been unwell since his birth. That was when you know he was, in entirety, wrecked. Ann's death had caused him such pain that nothing else, not even a stab in the gut by the sharpest blade would be able to hurt him that much.

"On the night we met, she fixed the wound on my leg," he said with a fractured grin and tears in his emerald eyes. "And I was supposed to be afraid of her, that was the first time in my life I'd ever seen witchcraft." He chuckled but there was no humor in the sound of it, just utter desolation. "But the look in her eyes made me feel safe...and suddenly I wasn't afraid anymore. I knew she was a good person."

"She said the same thing about you. She really loved you."

"And I let her down...Maybe...Maybe this sickness should just kill me so I can finally be with her." He took a long pause and shifted his eyes to the window by his bed, sucking in a long breath while contemplating whether or not he should say this out loud. He thought he should. "Before you got here, I nearly jumped out of that window."

"Why didn't you?" Madam Maggie calmly asked as if she'd already known, both what he'd tried to do, and the reason he'd chosen not to do it.

"I made a promise to Ann that I would be a good King. I have to live to fulfill that promise."

"It's good that you're still thinking straight." The woman flashed a smile, reaching out to hold his hand which laid lifelessly by his unresponsive body. "I haven't told you the real reason I'm here. Ann also asked me another favor."

"What is it?" He asked.

Madam Maggie thought that this was the most alive he'd looked since she first saw him. She confided, "did you know she'd been writing you letters?"

"N-No..."

"She had. Everyday, from the first day she set foot in this castle, to the night before they locked her away. She felt something bad was gonna happen so she brought them to me and asked me to keep them for a while. She told me she'd come back for them, hopefully with you by her side. She was very sure that you two would end up running away together." When she finished that sentence, Madam Maggie couldn't control her emotions anymore. Tears started to shed from her eyes, running down the crinkles at the corners of her chapped lips to land onto her worn out dress. Edward squeezed her hand a bit tighter, as he could deeply sympathize with her loss.

"Before she left she gave me a kiss on the cheek...Like she always did whenever we said goodbye...I didn't think—" That sentence was never finished for the old woman couldn't speak anymore. She began sobbing into the palm of her other hand. And Edward did as well. It was the first time he'd really cried ever since he last saw her, and he thought the agony he was feeling then would be his life sentence.

.

.

.

Harry woke up, gasping for air, again.

He was back in his hospital room, the only sound other than his own ragged breathing and riotous heartbeats was the beeping of one of the machines placed beside his bed. This time, he had a dream about Y/N stuck in a burning house, he risked his own life to run inside to save her but she couldn't come with him. So he held her close and let the flame swallow them whole. The dreams he'd been having had become more real recently, and he guessed his mild fear of the hospital had something to do with it. Fortunately, Harry wouldn't have to stay there much longer. The doctors had said, for some reasons they could not explain, his heart's condition had been slowly going back to normal, as if it'd healed on its own. By this time tomorrow, he could finally be home.

Harry propped himself up on his elbows then reached out to grab the glass of water his nurse had left on the bedside table. That was when he saw the pile of letters she'd put right under it. He slowly sat up, finishing his water, putting the empty glass back on the table, then with a little bit of hesitation, he took the letters and brought them to his lap.

When Harry scanned his eyes through the first line, which was the date, he almost thought his eyes were mistaken. The year was 1509, which was 510 years ago! Was this supposed to be a joke? Or was it just a thing this girl Annalise always did with her lover? Maybe it was a secret message only they knew. Now, Harry couldn't put the letters down without finishing every single one of them.

So Harry began to read, every single word. It took him only halfway through the first letter to realize this wasn't from just 'a few years ago' like Maggie had said. This was a letter from a peasant girl named Ann written to a Prince, Edward Rammour, no other than the man in the portrait, in the museum where the series of strange events and bizarre dreams of Harry's started.

The girl, Ann, wrote about their first met, about their little moments together, about the look in his eyes when he looked at her, about the things he said that he didn't pay attention to but she remembered every single word. And Harry knew every single detail in here, he'd seen them countless of times in his dreams, in which the girl who was supposed to be Ann, looked like Y/N. But the last few letters were all from her point of view so he didn't know what was gonna happen. She talked about not being able to see him as much, about doubting his love for her, about believing in his love for her again when he snuck out to visit her one night, about the things people in the castle said about her even in her presence, about a princess named Emilié who was betrothed to the Prince and hated her deeply, about receiving his letter one night asking her to meet him in the library. And in the last paragraph of the very last letter, she wrote about how happy she was because she believed they were gonna run away together. Harry's heart wrenched in anguish for he knew that wasn't what had happened.

In a millisecond, all the lost memories flooded back to him. Harry now remembered. Everything.

He remembered her screaming and shouting and begging him to save her and not let them take her away, and he didn't save her, he watched them take her away. He remembered saying goodbye to her one last time. He remembered the look on her face before the door shut between them, He remembered telling her he loved her, forever, and so he did. He loved her forever.

He remembered everything.

And on the hospital bed, he burst into tears, and those tears fell down and blurred out the handwriting of the girl who'd been dead for hundreds of years, yet kept alive inside his heart.

"Little Annalise had always preferred to be called Ann."

He lifted his head quickly and saw Maggie at the door. He didn't ask her to explain, he already knew what was going on. "Is Y/N...is she..."

"Yes, she is." The woman gave him a nod. "Did you feel strange when you looked into her eyes?" He did. "The eyes are the windows to a person's soul. That was why when you looked into hers, as well as...your own...in that painting in the museum, you felt a sense of familiarity that you couldn't explain. Same souls, trapped in two different bodies"

"How is this even possible?" Harry grimaced, trying to put two and two together on his own, but it wasn't that simple. "Why are there only two of us? Do the other...Does this happen to them too? How are you still alive?!"

"I'm the head witch, I'm immortal. Not even fire could kill me," she said, smiling as she approached his bed and sat down on the chair where she'd sat earlier.

Taking in a deep breath, she began, “when a person dies, his or her soul breaks into tiny pieces, each creates a new life. They start again as different people with no memories of the lives they used to have. But Ann already casted a spell on you, on both of you actually. That spell keeps your souls from unraveling and also connected to each other. So you’ve met in every single lifetime, and had many chances to start over. But this is the closest you’ve ever got to the ending she wanted for you two.”

"Why did it take me until today, this lifetime, to remember?"

"Because it took me that many centuries to have found you." Maggie sighed. "I usually found Ann first, but as there are more and more people on the Earth nowadays, it's really difficult to track her down. Every time I arrived in the past, it was already too late. But this time, I guess God does show some mercy after all. He brought me to you instead."

"So you working here is all a coincidence."

"A magical coincidence. I almost didn't believe it when I saw you here." She showed him a smile. And even though Harry had calmed down by now, he was still in shock. "Edward asked me to give you these letters, he thought only them would help you remember."

"W-Why should I remember if...if every time we got together one of us died?"

"Because only when you remember, would this story be over."

.

.

.

"Are you sure you want me to have them?"

Edward nodded, pushing the letters into Madam Maggie's hand as he insisted, "you're the only hope for me to find her."

She really was. Madam Maggie said once Ann had reincarnated into a new body, she would be able to feel her, and even if it might take a lot of effort to find her and convince her to believe she was Ann, it was possible.

Honestly, Edward didn't really believe in life after death. But he hadn't believed in witches until he met Ann, and she was real. Sometimes he still wished she hadn't been real. Maybe if she'd been a dream, a beautiful dream, then he would just sleep forever and never wake up.

"But how did you know it was the only way to break the spell?" He asked Madam Maggie, eyes on the letters. She could sense the sound of fear and doubt in his trembling voice.

"I just knew when you first told me, dear." She put a hand on his shoulder to reassure him. "She said it herself, only when you've found her in another life, could you two finally be together."

Edward exhaled though his mouth as recalled his lover's last words. She did say so, after she'd kissed him. The kiss. He realized it now! That kiss was when she put a spell on them both!

"Destiny is a funny thing, it's like a chess game, if you can't win, you lose." Madam Maggie took a deep breath and slowly let it all out. "Destiny wants to keep you two apart, so it will make sure you two are forever kept apart no matter what. Ann tried to break the rules, so by finding her she meant, you, finding Ann, not whoever she'd be in the next lifetime, or many after that. If you fail to recognize her but still try to break the rules by being with her, then destiny does what it has to, history repeats itself. One of you will pay the price."

Edward opened his mouth to ask another question, yet Madam Maggie shushed him right before he could release a single sound. "You should get some rest, your coronation is tomorrow."

Then she walked away, disappeared into the darkness of the long corridor. And that was also the last time he ever saw her.

"Edward! Wait, darling!" The voice caught Edward's attention, and he turned around, wishing he hadn't. His mother ran up to him, sounding so desperate as she pleaded, "darling, we need to talk!"

"No, we don't," he said coldly and started walking away. But she chased after him and managed to grab him by the arm.

"I understand that you don't want to speak to your wife but I am—"

"She's not my wife!" He shouted, but the frightened look on her face made him weak again. "It's only a title. Tomorrow she might be the Queen of England, but she will never be my wife."

"You cannot say that! You have to give her a chance! You need a son to rule after you!"

"I don't want a son so he would grow up with a mother like that. I don't want him to suffer the same way I am." Edward hoped those words did hurt the Queen, he hoped the pain shown on her face was genuine. However, he didn't know anymore, he didn't believe in it. Was there anything, or anyone in this castle, 'genuine'? "Emilié had told me everything, mother. You sent Ann in there...knowing father could hurt her. You were willing to destroy a young girl's life just to make sure I'd stay for the throne. Now I am King, are you happy now?"

"I did it because I love you!"

"You, same as Emilié, same as father, love no one but yourself!" Each and every one of those word was a knife pierced right through his chest. "The only one who's ever loved me for me, and not who I am, or going to be, was Ann, and now she's dead."

"I am still your mother..."

"You are not." He shook his head slowly, trying not to cry because she wasn't worth anymore of his tears. He'd suffered enough. "I loved you, I really loved you."

Loved. The sound of it crushed the Queen's dark heart into dust, and she thought she might collapse onto the floor had she been able to feel any of her muscle. She was frozen right where she stood, eyes wide, jaw dropped, heartbroken, staring at the son she'd let down. They could've just continued to stand there until sunrise, had the conversation been interrupted by the arrival of the Chief Minister.

"There you are, Your Highness!" Exclaimed the man, who sounded so thrilled since he didn't know what was happening here. "I already had everything you asked prepared for the coronation tomorrow morning. Also Piersilvio, the famous Italian painter, he wanted to paint your portrait as a gift. He would arrive at court soon after the ceremony."

"Good." Edward nodded as he exhaled sharply. "Anything else?"

"No, Your Highness."

"It's 'Your Majesty' to you now."

"Yes...My apologies...Your Majesty..." The Chief Minister hung his head to show respect to the new young King as he was startled by the change in Edward's attitude. He was afraid he might been in trouble for addressing the monarch in the wrong way, but Edward didn't pay much attention to it.

"Have a good evening, His Excellency. Could you please escort the Queen Mother back to her bed chamber?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

When Edward absented himself, he heard his mother desperately screaming out his name, begging him to forgive her. However, he turned a deaf ear to all the things she said. He was no different from a dead man walking.

.

.

.

There were indeed plenty of museums in London, more than 170 of them. Countless of visitors came and went every single day. What were the chances of two person returning to the same museum, every single day, to sit in front of the same painting? Surely very little.

For the first few days the pair were there, nobody really noticed. For almost two weeks, they began to. Everyday before the museum was closed, a young man and a young woman would arrive and stare at the portrait of Edward Rammour, and then they left when everyone else did. Some people thought they were lovers who shared the same passion with art, some said they were sad, depressed, and lonely, some said they were crazy. However, nobody actually came and asked them what their story was. Maybe if someone had, they would've told them.

"How long are you gonna keep tormenting yourself?" Asked Jason as he sat down by his best friend's side on the bench in front of the painting and handed her a donut, which she refused.

"Until I get my memories back..."

"That's impossible."

"Why?" She snorted. "I think I just need a bit more time with this painting, and it'll all come back to me. She wanted me to remember. That was why she cursed me as well."

"We don't really know what she wanted." Jason heaved a sigh. "Maybe she wanted the King to pay for his mistake by cursing him, but she didn't think about how it would also affect her in her new lives."

That theory seemed justifying, but Y/N knew it wasn't the truth. People wouldn't want themselves to be bound together for eternity with someone they loathed. She knew the woman she used to be still loved the King despite it all. If only she could remember what had really happened.

"He's back in London you know," Jason broke the silence between the two of them, hand reaching out to hold hers. He thought she might pull away like many times before, but this time she didn't. She stayed still where she was, emotionless, unbothered. "Have you listened to his new song? It's about you."

"I have. I love it. I wish I could tell him."

"You should reach out to him...if you want to."

"I can't, you know I can't." The lump in her throat when she thought about him made it hard for her to breathe. "Not until I know how to break the curse. If we tried to be together, there would be consequences."

"So you're gonna spend your entire life, sitting in front of this painting, trying to remember a life you had...five centuries ago?"

A simple "yes" was her answer. And Jason knew nothing else to say. He wanted what was best for her, and he thought separating her from Harry would fix everything. But everything became worse. She'd been losing sleep, her nightmares got more real and hard to wake up from. Still her memories of her past life were still dust in a desert.

Jason asked her if she was thirsty, she said no, but he said he would go buy her something to drink anyway. He then laid a kiss on her cheek and stood up to go. She was once again left alone. Actually, she wasn't alone.

She could feel him near. She didn't even need to turn around to know he was there. She just did. And she was afraid to look because her feelings could be wrong, and if he wasn't standing right behind her she would be so disappointed. That was when his voice rang right through her ear. The first thing he said wasn't 'hi' or 'hello' or 'how have you been?' Or even her name.

It was, "I've found you."

Y/N rose from the bench to turn around, facing Harry at last. He was wearing an expensive trench coat, hands in its pockets, his grey flat cap made sure half of his face was covered, but there was no way she could mistaken him with anyone else. Time seemed to stop when they locked eyes, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, she felt something she'd never felt before. She parted her lips, wanting to speak, yet no word escaped for she had no idea what to say. He said he'd found her, but she knew he didn't mean finding her, here, in this museum, it was something else, almost like—

"Of course you don't remember...I...uhm—" he mumbled, as if he was talking to himself. Then a dimpled smile crept up on his face only to vanish as soon as Jason returned with a bottle of water for Y/N.

She didn't know what was going on in Harry's mind at that point, and Harry didn't say a word either. He turned his heels just as Jason recognized him, and quickly made tracks to the nearest exit.

Her eyes quickly followed his familiar figure to that door over there, then all the sounds around her became muted at once. She didn't even hear Jason asking her what had just happened, instead she heard Harry's footsteps echoing inside the walls of her brain as they were fading away. He spun his head and sent her one last look before the door was closed between the two of them. Time stopped. It wasn't Harry that she saw.

She saw Edward.

She saw him being dragged away from her by the men in amours. She heard her own deafening screams as well as his. She saw the flames on the torches on the brick walls mirroring in his green eyes. She saw him mouthing the words 'I love you' to her. The door shut between them two, and she snapped back to reality. Everything vanished. The room, the guards, the flames, the torches, him.

She remembered it now, everything.

"Y/N! Y/N! Where are you going?!" Jason shouted after her as she started running fast, pushing her way through a crowd of tourists, who screamed at her for being so rude. Then she burst through that door and she screamed out his name, causing many heads to turn around. There was only one face among them that mattered.

When she saw him she didn't hesitate. Hell, she'd been waiting for this moment for too long, 500 years! Now, she could finally fall into his embrace. Her head against his chest, and she was finally home.

Shocked as he was, Harry didn't resist the hug. He chose to ignore all the judging stares they were receiving and clung onto her, eyes squeezed shut, lips pressed to her forehead.

"Why did you walk away?" She pulled back to look up at him with a pucker between her brows, all out of breath, yet laughing uncontrollably.

"You were...with someone else..." He sounded hurt and confused, it only made her laugh harder.

"That's my best friend Jason, you've met him before, remember?" she cried out, voice trembling because she'd never been so happy that she choked on her own words. "I was waiting for you. I've been waiting for you for so long."

"Wait, so you..."

"I remember." She nodded fast, arms tightened around his waist. "I remember exactly what was going through my head in that tower. I remember feeling so scared when I was on the stake. I remember the last image in my head was you. I remember...telling you to find me in another life so we could finally be together...And you did, Harry you found me."

When she touched his face, Harry felt as if there was magic on her fingertips. He dug his nose into her palm, sniffing away his own tears as he wiped away the ones that were rolling down her cheeks. He heard the sound of the camera shutter somewhere behind her, behind him, on his left, and his right, knowing their reunion could've already made the news already, yet he couldn't care less.

"How did you know I was here?" She asked, still cupping his cheeks with no intention of letting him go.

"I came to your house and Lisa told me." He paused. "I'm sorry it took me so long. I needed over a week to think of what to say to you before coming here so I wouldn't sound insane...I even brought your letters—"

"How do you have the letters?" Her eyes grew wide, mouth slightly opened. "Wait, have you...have you met her?" Y/N felt like her heart could burst from joy when he nodded his head, telling her yes. "Where is she?! Is she here?!"

"No, but I'll take you to her, love. She really misses you," he told her while looking around and spotting a couple sneaky paparazzi. So he locked his fingers around her wrist and urged her to come with him and get out of here so they could finally tell each other everything that had happened.

"Harry, wait!" Y/N tugged on his arm when he was about to pull her with him. "I...I need you to kiss me now so I can be sure neither of us is gonna die."

Her pretentious fear made Harry burst into laughter. With no hesitation, he cupped her cheeks with both hands, bringing his face down to hers so the tips of their noses brushed against each other, then with their lips only one breath apart, he whispered to her, "queen of my heart."

He kissed her exactly how she wanted to be kissed, like it was their first, last, everything they had left to lose. This passionate and timeless moment put an official end to the series of misery that had lasted for five centuries long. And people who walked past King Edward's portrait that day could swear when they told the story, of how they saw the man in the painting, smile.

[ladykf-writes]

Fanfic Writer Appreciation (and a little self love)

Sooooo, as talked about I wanted to do a little promo. I may not always be my favorite writer, but I try to be one of my cheerleaders. And well, if you’re here you obviously have some interest in what I’m up to.

SO! Here’s a list of my currently-published WIPs and some info about them, in the order that I’ve updated them, most recent to oldest. 

Feel free to ask questions about any of them!

Dog Whistle (Ao3 || FFN) - started off as a prompt from @snackarey​ when I reblogged some Soulmate AUs. This one was a prompt for soulmates (Zack/Kunsel) who felt what each other felt - like pain. Needless to say, this went into a canon divergent AU where Kunsel felt some of what Zack was going through when Hojo got a hold of him after Nibelheim. And saved him, setting off an ever-increasing list of revolutionary consequences. It’s nearly 58K, and though I’m a little stuck I’m looking forward to seeing where it goes.

Dewprism: Journey to the [Relic] (Ao3 || FFN) - this actually has a lot more written than I’ve posted, I just got a little frustrated because well... the fandom is teeny tiny and there’s no real feedback. But! It’s an interesting piece. It’s a semi-novelization where I’m taking the old PS1 Classic from Squaresoft, Threads of Fate/Dewprism and merging the two storylines. Basically... you can’t play the game anymore unless you got it from the PSN for your PSP or... PS2, I think? Or emulate it, of course, you can do that. And I wanted to bring the experience to more people, because it’s got such a great story.

It’s Not a Game (Ao3 || FFN) - this is my Avengers/FF7 crossover, and funny story, it was actually born out of a comment back on my old Genesis RP blog about how Genesis would totally be Tony Stark’s favorite character if he played Crisis Core. It’s turned into a full blown fixit I have a type and I actually have like, 90% of the next chapter done, it just doesn’t feel quite right so I haven’t posted it. And am, of course, stuck. There’s a case of choice paralysis here; the premise is that, in the MCU, FF7 is a series like it is in our world, and Tony is a fan. So he goes to make a simulation to do a self-insert... only he somehow transports himself (and Bruce) to a dimension where it’s real. A “Stark-insert” someone called it; and it does use a lot of “Self-Insert” tropes, actually. There’s just so many ways it could go that I’m stuck on choosing exactly how to progress here.

Party of Five (Ao3 || FFN) - the MMO AU! This was actually originally a prompt @up-sideand-down​ got, that I got permission to take off with. It’s a modern AU AGSZC where they meet online playing this MMO I made up that’s based off of FF7 and modeled after a mashup of like, me studying WoW and my experiences playing SWTOR. I’ve actually got some ideas of where it’s going, I just got too caught up in technicalities and need to reroute it back to the relationships going on.

Welcome to FF7 (series link, Ao3) - this is me hashing out basically what I think went down pre-games. Most of it is headcanon, I cannot stress that enough. It’s based off of the little we know, of course, but there’s just so much we don’t that it’s mostly headcanon. Tons of OCs. It’s a whole series, and they overlap - different sections that follow different departments, mostly. The base story is Welcome to ShinRa (Ao3 || FFN) and that follows the man who will become President Shinra from back when they first discover mako energy. I’ve also got Welcome to the Science Department (Ao3 || FFN) which starts off with college students Gast and Grimoire and how they get drawn into the beginnings of what becomes ShinRa Electric.

And last but not least, honorable mention to Times of Change (Ao3) - this was actually a piece inspired by @deadcatwithaflamethrower‘s Re-Entry series. I desperately need to reread that before I can hope to continue this, but... one day. One day.... I don’t suggest reading it right now, my headcanons have changed and it needs an overhaul. But you’ll see eventually.

And now... the WIPs you haven’t seen. (Under a cut)

By fandom, just to keep things straight, but in no particular order otherwise.

Compilation of FF7

The Snowball Effect (Ao3 || FFN) ... sequel? continuation? - as one of the gift exchange presents I’ve just done this past month, it is definitely standalone as is, but if I ever figure out where I want to take it, I’ll continue that one. It was just far too much fun.

The Price of Freedom - the sequel to To Be Human, which... I’m looking forward to, but I really burnt myself out on TBH so it’s going to be longer than anticipated before I approach this one. TBH definitely stands on its own, but there were some loose ends left to tie up, so we’ll see how that goes. And when it goes, when I’m ready to approach that again. TBH needs some editing, too... lots of work there.

The Unnamed Pokemon/FF7 crossover that I’ve talked about for... a couple years now (yikes) but now actually have a plot for. It’s very interesting to me, putting Pokemon on Gaia, and seeing how that changes everything. Because like, they’d have presumably used Mew’s DNA since there’s no Jenova (I can’t see them using Deoxys, which would be the closer parallel) and since there’s no Chaos, Grimoire is still alive. Which means no extra Drama between Lucrecia and Vincent - and really, there shouldn’t be the stress between Vincent and Hojo over her being sick because Mew would theoretically be much more compatible with humans than Jenova was.

What I’m saying is Seph has three parents and at least one set of grandparents and a much more stable Sephiroth (and Genesis and Angeal, thanks to Lucrecia teaming up with Gillian) leads to some very interesting changes. Like deciding they don’t want to fight the Wutai war anymore. >_>

Hold My Flower - a timetravel fic featuring our one and only flowergirl, who has had enough of people messing up her planet and refuses to just... let it die. She is, unquestionably, a force of nature. No fragile flower to be found here, this is the gal you see in the OG who threatened a mob boss and meant it. Heaven help anyone who gets in her way. She’s going to save the world. Possibly in a Turk Suit, don’t look at me.

The Long Game - Reeve goes back in time, and holy crap this one is a monster I am truly intimidated by so it’s gonna take a while for me to get going on that. XD But basically, similar premise to the above - the world isn’t healing and someone has to do something, so Reeve is nominated due to his position in ShinRa and potential to... he’d say “influence” but let’s call a spade a spade - manipulate people and events to a more favorable outcome.

A third BIT fic is one that I started writing with my friend @askshivanulegacy back in... damn, somewhere between 2011-2013, before we switched to writing SWTOR fic together. It’s one where Zack is sent back in time, and the differences in him post-Hojo change things even before he can start deliberately changing anything. But I got permission to take and remake that, so I intend to, one day. It was Good Stuff. And you can never have too much timetravel.

Dragon Ball Z

So, this is an oooooold fandom of mine - the first fanfics I ever wrote (under a different name, no I’m not telling XD it was ten years ago) were for DBZ, and definitely the first ones I ever read, back in the days of dial up. And I read a couple interesting takes on Chichi/Vegeta fic... and I was talking with @vorpalgirl about it and said I’d love to try my hand at something with that one day. I think they have the potential to be a really great pair (don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the canon pairings but those two have a lot of potential) so... yeah someday I might dip my toes back into Z. It’s on the wishlist, as well as reviving and cleaning up an old unfinished work of mine. Someday~

Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time

Seven Years Lost - this one I’ve been debating a long time, and even did a little on! It’s basically how I rationalize what happens when Link pulls the Master Sword out and - well, spoilers but it’s a really old game so - when he comes out as a teenager and is immediately able to handle a nearly-adult body. It involves a dreamscape scenario where he communicates with his past incarnations and learns from them, and from sharing dreams with Zelda due to their bond.

Sailor Moon (manga/Crystal based)

Second Chances - I read a lot of SM fanfic back in the day, and my favorite ones were... more real? Like, there were more consequences to these 14 year old kids out there fighting for their lives and sometimes losing them. I’d like to tell a story through Minako/Venus’ eyes primarily, covering what that’s like, and then I also just really want a happy ending for the senshi/shittenou? So... yay canon divergence, lol. You guys know the deal by now. XD

Star Wars: Legends Era

United We Stand - SWTOR fanfic, baby! Basically, I’m just dying to see the eight classes cross over each other, and I will bend canon to do it. For anyone that’s played the original class story lines, there is some cross over but believe me when I say there were huge opportunities that were let drop by nature of the game. Just with the two Jedi stories alone... but that’s #spoilers for a not-as-old game so I’ll leave that be and only elaborate if asked.

(And do feel free to ask about any of these! I’d love to hash them out more.)

[pug-bitch]

That’s not why I’m going (1)

Just what you wanna hear from your emotionally fragile friend

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Drake Walker x Amara Suarez

Rating: some foul language, excuse my potty mouth, otherwise PG!

Word count: 1225

Notes: So….I’ve written academically for years but this is the first fic I am sharing with the world…I was inspired by my dear friend @andy-loves-corgis to put myself out there and share, so THANK YOU, and here it is :) I’ve had these stories in my mind for a while now, in the form of a headcanon for my MC, Amara Suarez, but never had the guts to put it out there. Also, English is not my first language, so if you see anything that sounds weird, please don’t hesitate to let me know. As I said, I write academically, so I am totally used to criticism and whatever you say to me, my advisor probably said worse in a totally casual manner :D I don’t plan on making this a series per se, but probably sporadic chapters here and there that will form an ensemble. This part is what happens after Amara has accepted to go to Cordonia with the guys.

 ***************************************************************************************

‘Shit, shit, shit. Why won’t this close?’

 She cursed herself for not going KonMari as she had planned to. Her small carry-on was in no shape to close, and she didn’t want to get rid of any of the stuff she had put in there. Although, if she was honest with herself, she could probably not wear any of these outfits in a royal setting. What was she thinking?

 It didn’t take long for her to call her manager and quit. Bartending was not exactly her calling, and she had never found it riveting. Until last night, that is.

Why did she say yes? All of a sudden, in front of her uncloseable suitcase, she found herself second-guessing her decision. Why was she following these guys to a small country she had barely heard of before last night? Maxwell had known how to make himself convincing, and after all, what did she have to lose? Not much. After everything that had happened in her life, she wasn’t sure why she hadn’t left New York long before that. It would have been fair for her to go berserk, and be off the grid, especially after Sergio. But she didn’t. She stayed here, and the only thing she changed was her profession. The noncommittal aspect of bartending suited her perfectly.

So why was she committing to a whole transatlantic flight with 4 strangers? Sure, she found one of them very hot, but hot strangers are not a rare occurrence in New York City, so why cross an ocean to follow one?

 She decided to get rid of the blazer and slacks she had carefully folded in her suitcase. Those could stay in New York. Those reminded her too much of her old life. No more.

 After careful deliberation, she knocked on her roommate’s bedroom door. She had debated not saying anything and leaving a note, but she felt shitty for it.

 ‘Hey Mia…Are you up?’

Mia, still very much not up, opens one eye and mumbles: ‘Mmmhm. What’s up?’

‘Um… I’m gonna be out of town for a little bit. I just found out.’

The admission makes Mia sit up straight in her bed.

‘What? Out of town? Is it your dad?’

‘No, no, my dad is fine. Um…’ Amara hesitates, playing with her passport, and showing clear signs of nervousness. ‘I’m going to Europe for a few weeks.’

‘Europe? Ex-squeeze me?’

‘Yeah, listen, I can’t stay for long, I’m expected at the airport, but don’t worry, I’ll paypal you the rent and my share of the utilities as always and you can reach me on whatsapp and—‘

‘Frankly Amara, I don’t give a shit about that, I know you’ll pay.’ Mia jumps out of bed and walks towards her friend, a worried look on her face. ‘I just wanna know why you’re being so weird, and why you’re skipping town all of a sudden. Are you ok?’

‘Yeah. I met a group of guys last night and—‘

‘Oh great, a group of guys. Just what you wanna hear from your emotionally fragile friend.’

‘Let me finish. I’m not sure I’m allowed to say much more, but one of them is heir to the throne of Cordonia, and his friend invited me to…um…compete for…his hand?’

 After a short pause, Mia bursts out laughing.

‘WHAT? Are you still drunk, Amara? Compete for his hand? Are you shitting me?’

‘Look, I know it’s crazy, I know I should probably not do anything rash right now, but um…maybe that’s exactly why I should do it. Y’know?’

‘No. I don’t know. It doesn’t make any sense.’

‘Yup. Exactly.’ Amara glances at her phone. ‘Oh, I gotta go. The guys are waiting for me to board their private plane.’

‘Sure, Amara. You know, you’re really making me wonder if I should call Dr. Samberg. Maybe you need to readjust your meds?’

‘I’m off my meds, actually. They made me drowsy.’ She gets closer to Mia and wraps her in a warm hug. ‘I know you think I’m nuts, but please trust me. Something tells me I need to go. I need a change, Mia. I can’t stay and rot here, where it all happened. I need space. Just for a bit.’ She steps back, smiles, and plants a kiss on her friend’s cheek. ‘I’ll miss you, you little bastard.’

‘Ugh, I’ll miss you too. Don’t forget to invite me if you marry a prince.’

‘Ha,’ Amara chuckles. ‘Don’t hold your breath. That’s not why I’m going.’

 ************************************************************************************** 

Slouching in his seat, Drake looks out the private jet window. Still nothing.

‘Maxwell, why did you tell the waitress to come? Now we’re waiting for her when we know very well she won’t show.’ He pauses, swallows hard, and looks at his feet. ‘Unless she’s a complete nutjob.’

‘Don’t be a party pooper, Drake.’ Maxwell, as excited as ever, checks his phone one last time to see if the beautiful stranger has texted him a new update. ‘She texted me an hour ago saying she was en route. She must be in traffic.’

 Drake grunts, not even gracing this with a response. Why was he being such a dick? Why couldn’t he just admit that he wanted to wait for her, and that he was rooting for her to come? Probably because if she came, it would be for Liam, and then what? Would he just sit on his attraction? Sure, he was used to putting himself second, so why not, after all. But there was just something about her. Something different. At this thought, he could almost feel himself roll his eyes. Ugh, what now, she isn’t like other girls? Get outta here, Walker. But really, there was something. Last night, this Amara girl was a ray of sunshine, she got along with Maxwell so well, and Liam couldn’t take his eyes off of her. But what Drake saw, what was there in her eyes…it was darker than what she displayed for everyone to see. On the secret beach she took them to, as they both sat on the sand, and she tried to pry Drake open, she let something show. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it was not all that different from what Drake saw in his own eyes. What he masked with grumpiness and too much whiskey, she seemed to mask with her lovely personality or whatever. But it was there. The feeling of being alone. The responsibility, the guilt. The weight of the world.

 ‘There she is!’ Maxwell  squeals.

 And there she sure was. In a loose hoodie and black jeans, her dark curls bouncing up and down her shoulders as she ran towards the plane alongside security… there she fucking was.

Drake hated himself for the pang he felt in his guts.

 ‘Hi guys!’, she said cheerfully as she climbed on board. ‘Thanks again for having me. I’m really excited!’

 Maxwell was beaming with joy, you’d think God was finally giving him the sister he’d always wanted.

‘Hey gurrrrl! I knew you’d come! Take a seat, it’s just you, me, and Drake! Tariq took the royal jet with Liam this morning. He likes the luxury.’

‘Oh, because a private jet is not luxurious enough?’ she said sarcastically.

‘Heh’, Drake surprised himself chuckling. Maybe it was that hair of the dog he was nursing. Or maybe not.

*****************************************************************************************

Tagging: (please let me know if you want to be removed from the list or maybe added :)) - I was just trying to appeal to the Drake lovers out there haha!

(Updated tag list!)

@andy-loves-corgis, @drakewalkerwhipped, @drakxwalker, @drakewalkerrosenberg, @drakeswalkers, @drakelover78, @silviasutton1989, @jovialyouthmusic , @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria , @mariahschoices , @drakesensworld

[so-shiny-so-chrome]

Witness: Tyellas

Creator name (AO3): Tyellas

Creator name (Tumblr): thebyrchentwigges

Link to creator works *https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyellas/works?fandom_id=51060

Q: Why the Mad Max Fandom?

A: I’ve been a fan of postapocalyptic scifi since my teens. But it took me until Fury Road to really fall in love with the world of Mad Max. Living Down Under probably helped. 

Q: What do you think are some defining aspects of your work? Do you have a style? Recurrent themes?

A: For Mad Max, my style varies very much based on the character point of view. Max's terseness is very different from a History Person's verbal rambling. Recurrent themes for me...Some of them tie back to canon, like the fragility of Wasteland technology and the quirkiness of human nature. There's a lot of geology and a consistent thread of land-based spirituality - an Antipodean influence, there. 

Q: Which of your works was the most fun to create? The most difficult? Which is your most popular? Most successful? Your favourite overall?

A: Most popular overall – Definitely “Gastown Nights.” Max, Furiosa, sexual tension, adventure in a setting with the Wasteland wildness turned up to 11 – what’s not to like? Most fun – Writing fluff is always fun, even if the world’s falling apart around it. “Very Max, Much Wasteland, Such Dog,” my take on Max Gets A Dog, and “If You Give a Pup a Flamethrower” stand out to me. Most difficult – Several of my Miss Giddy stories were harrowing, “Weave a Circle,” “One Way Ride.” At one point writing “Weave a Circle” I glanced in a mirror and was shocked – shocked! – to not be looking at the face of a tattooed 76-year-old. 

Q: How do you like your wasteland? Gritty? Hopeful? Campy? Soft? Why?

A: Gritty as, mate, but always with that glimmer of hope. Because that's how it would be.

Q: Walk us through your creative process from idea to finished product. What's your prefered environment for creating? How do you get through rough patches?

A: I may jot down a story’s core idea, then let it ferment a few months. I might think I’m writing something just for myself, then it will take on a life of its own. When the time is right, I’ll think and plan around it, then do an outline. I like Kurt Vonnegut’s advice that a character in a story should want something, “even if it’s just a glass of water.” A glass of water is a big thing in Mad Max! For a writing environment, I’m very lucky – I have a home office, a desk chair, a desk specially set up for writing. If part of a story is giving me trouble, I’ll treat it like the eye of the storm. I’ll write around it, write down to it – I’ll write everything but that part! Once the frame is in place around the difficult part, that helps.

Q: What (if any) music do you listen to for help getting those creative juices flowing?

A: For Mad Max, Ocker rocker classics from the 70s and 80s. Songs by Goanna, Cold Chisel, Dragon, AC/DC. New Zealander Neil Finn's song "Sinner" always makes me think of Max. 

Q: What is your biggest challenge as a creator?

A: Finding time when I have inspiration, and finding inspiration when I find time.

Q: How have you grown as a creator through your participation in the Mad Max Fandom? How has your work changed? Have you learned anything about yourself?

A: I've grown so, so much as a writer. Descriptions, plot, research. Getting over myself and putting that crazy idea out there - and learning that it was worthwhile if it found one reader. Personally, I decided I would probably survive an apocalypse, which is always good to know. 

Q: Which character do you relate to the most, and how does that affect your approach to that character? Is someone else your favourite to portray? How has your understanding of these characters grown through portraying them?

A: I took the long road around to this one, because it took getting into the Mad Max fandom for it. I'd say I relate the most to...Aunty Entity. She's determined, she's creative, she's femme, and she has excellent taste in henchpeople. Oddly, I've never written about her, for all that I have screeds about Furiosa, the Vuvalini, and the History People. Aunty Entity has aspects of those three. My Furiosa is calculating, fierce, stony, and, after the Fury Road, willing to make terrible decisions for a long-term goal or a greater good. After a mostly Citadel life, she’s used to better living, and both disgusted and horrified/saddened by how others are getting by.  

Q: Do you ever self-insert, even accidentally?

A: All the characters we write about are our shards and our reflections. I do have a draft of a piece for a Self-Insert week that never took off, where I hitch a ride in the Nullarbor desert with some Buzzards.

Q: Do you have any favourite relationships to portray? What interests you about them?

A: I've written smut, and in my fics both canon characters and OCs get laid and find love. "Citadel Nights" is a novel-length fic about love and sex in the Mad Max apocalypse. But the most enduring relationship in my fics, one that all characters deal with, is...their own one with the Wasteland. That post-apocalyptic world around them. For some it's chaos and ruined dreams. For some it's horror yet opportunity. And for some of them, it's simply how it is. My story quartet "Wasteland, Seize My Bones" delves into this in all kinds of ways.

Q: How does your work for the fandom change how you look at the source material?

A: For Mad Max, I seek it out and look at it in more detail. Some of it takes some finding. It took me a while to track down the novelization of "Beyond Thunderdome". There were some jaw-dropping interviews with George Miller back in the 80s!

Q: Do you prefer to create in one defined chronology or do your works stand alone? Why or why not?

A: I can't help creating in one defined chronology. That's just how my imagination works. Every Mad Max story of mine fits into a timeline. I've sketched out that timeline over two notebook pages, like the nerd that I am.

Q: To break or not to break canon? Why?

A: For Mad Max, I'm usually in line with canon. Mad Max canon itself is so rich, flexible, and berserk that most of the plots and actions I wanted to write fit right in. Like most fan creators, I did make it gayer.

Q: Share some headcanons.

A: Oh, so many! Have three: - Furiosa wears her keys on the left: Max wears his on the right. - There are two popular headcanons around Miss Giddy: long-term Citadel denizen or Wasteland Survivor Having Adventures. I like the second one better. - Immortan Joe and the Bullet Farmer had a thing going on for a while there. 

Q: If you work with OCs walk us through your process for creating them. Who are some of your favourites?

A: There are OCs and there are "characters who had three frames in the movie/outtake." Very often I'll create an OC to fulfil a plot moment and then...they're not done...they tap my shoulder with more stories. I have a list of my Mad Max original characters for reference. I need it because I have *forty-nine* of them. Wretches, War Boys, Milking Mothers, Wastelanders, antagonists. My favorite OCs are the ones I've spent the most time writing about - if an OC of mine has a POV story, you know I liked them. Or somebody else did and made a request! 

Q: If you create original works, how do those compare to your fan works?

A: My original works seem positively sybaritic compared to my Mad Max fan works! 

Q: Who are some works by other creators inside and outside of the fandom that have influenced your work?

A: There were all these different creative factions – Maxiosa shippers, War Boy lovers, the Gigadumpster focusing on the villains – having fun. That in itself was inspiring. For a while I was unable to read @sacrificethemtothesquid ’s Length and Breadth of Fury Road. Its gravitational field of influence was that strong for me. And I adored the story “The Bullet Farmer’s Daughter” for its ruthless postapocalyptic extremes. For Max and Furiosa and their particular dynamics and madness, I’m influenced by J.G. Ballard – his compelled postapocalyptic wanderers, his cool, in-charge women. For my History People writing, influences include Margaret Atwood, Ursula Le Guin, and Neal Stephenson’s “Anathem”.

Q: What advice can you give someone who is struggling to make their own works more interesting, compelling, cohesive, etc.? 

A: The time you spend planning your project helps bring it to life. Thinking, plotting, outlining, deciding your ending and working up to it. If something seems crazy or self-indulgent, but *feels* real or right, there’s emotional truth and weight behind it. Readers will sense that and respond to it. Write it and see what happens. Thanks to our protagonist of few words, Mad Max writers suffer less from verbosity than other fandoms. Still, keep a sentence 20 words or fewer: keep a paragraph 6 – 8 sentences or fewer. Your reader will stay more engaged with your writing. 

Q: Have you visited or do you plan to visit Australia, Wasteland Weekend, or other Mad Max place?

A: I'd love to go to Wasteland Weekend sometime, but I live in New Zealand. It's been great to meet up with some fellow Mad Max fans in Australia, and to have Mad Max-like moments when I'm visiting there.  Walking down an industrial street, lost, when a gang of masked bikers roar by, disrupting the crows into their own corvid cries...

Q: Tell us about a current WIP or planned project.

A: I've got two Mad Max WIPs that will be done, come hell or high water. I'll share their titles: "In the Heart of the Wasteland Sun" and "A Favourite Has No Friend".

Thank you @thebyrchentwigges