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abbysfrenchbraid · 3 years

Note

hi! i love all of your writing, especially your abby fanfics. i know you’re in the middle of your eivor series right now, so pls disregard if you don’t feel like writing this request or don’t want to write for abby, but i was wondering if you could maybe write a hurt/comfort type imagine where abby either comforts the reader when they’re sad or after they have a nightmare. i get really frequent nightmares and love to read fanfics like this but totally understand if you’re not into the idea. all the love and i hope you’re doing well; merry christmas if you celebrate!

so this is half a year late, but I finally have a little more time to go through my requests so here it is! this is also the first time I've actively avoided gendering the reader as I've gotten a few requests for a nonbinary or genderfluid reader. This is not a cop-out on that, I definitely want to write an explicitly nb reader but I figured this would make the reading experience better for quite a few people!

Summary: The reader has recently lost a family member and stranded with the WLF. They struggle with frequent panic attacks and nightmares. Abby notices and tries to take care of them.

CW for loss of a family member (sibling), death and grief, heavy trauma, panic attacks, anxiety, nightmares, and struggling to breathe. The nightmares are also fairly violent and creepy so please watch out for yourselves and only read this if you're in a good state of mind <3

I've Got You

The truck rattled as Leah drove it up the road to the WLF stadium. It had been a particularly rough day on patrol. You and the other wolf had run into a group of freshly infected that seemed to have been three families once. The children had been the worst. The youngest had probably been about ten years old before she had turned, her eyes bright blue and her blonde curls matted with dried blood. You had taken care of them all, of course you had. But it had been horrible. You folded your hands in your lap to keep them from shaking.

You had joined the WLF a few months ago after losing your team and your little sister in a clicker-infested cellar you had set up camp in. It had been so fucking stupid, so careless. But everyone had been tired, you hadn’t seen any infected in days, and so only one of you had kept watch. He barely had time to scream before the clicker had ripped out his throat. It had been chaos, madness, everyone scrambling to escape into the network of damp corridors and storage rooms, more and more clickers being drawn to you by the noise.

Leah raised her hand at the armed guards at the gate and they opened for your truck. The sun was setting behind you and most people were inside the stadium now, eating or spending time with friends. Both of you were quiet. Leah’s legs were covered in slowly darkening blood and the smell was nauseating. The tall wolf pulled the truck into its designated spot and took a deep breath.

“Y/N?” You looked up at her. The circles under her eyes could compete with yours, but her face was still as kind as ever.

“Yeah?”

“You take care of yourself today. Take a long shower, get something to eat. I’ll let Martha know to give you a double portion for dinner.”

You smiled faintly at her. This was how it was here. All the wolves had seen terrible things and probably done even worse. They all chose to let it out in training and then leave it behind them. No sense in holding on. You nodded.

“Thanks, Lee. See you in the gym tomorrow.”

The brunette grinned and patted your thigh.

“6 am sharp!” She jumped out of the car and gave back the keys at the checkpoint, then she vanished inside the stadium.

You stayed in your seat. Your fingers had cramped up and you were scared to unfold them, scared you would never be able to stop them from shaking again.

Sierra had held your hand all the way, not letting go as you dragged her through the darkness, fought off four infected, stumbled up stairs you had not come down on, and found yourself in a ravaged theater. You had run all night and only stopped when you were unable to go a single step further. When you had found a small pawnshop that you could lock up safely, you had made a bed of your jacket and a moth-eaten blanket from the theater. Sierra had started to cry. You would never forget the way dread had started to creep into your limbs, seeping into your skin and stretching dark tendrils toward your throat. You had rolled up Sierra’s sleeve and there it was. A relatively small mark, just the puncture wounds from two teeth turned into mean scratches as Sierra had pulled her arm from the jaws of a clicker and kept on running. But it had already begun to fester, the edges of the wound an angry red contrasting the white blisters forming around the site. It felt like the ground had been pulled from below your feet. You fell and fell, unable to speak, to do anything, just staring at the thing that meant the end of the world. The end of your baby sister.

A shout caught your attention - another car had returned to the stadium and was pulling into a spot a few paces away. It was Manny and Abby, everyone’s favorite duo. The attractive joker and the stoic warrior. They were among Leah’s best friends and she had introduced them to you a while ago, all of them welcoming you warmly. It had been strange, being part of a group again, a team. Your heart was still too sore.

So you had quietly pulled yourself out of most of the group evenings, the film nights and game nights and arm wrestling tournaments and what else there was to do. Manny had tried his luck flirting with you a few times and one time you had even joined him for a dance, but after realizing he wouldn’t land with you he had respectfully backed off and now treated you more like a little sister. Mel and Owen had been nice, too, both very secluded when they turned up together, but Owen was funny and enthusiastic and always yelled your name across the cafeteria or the training course when he saw you. He was one of the few people who could make you laugh no matter how hard you tried not to.

Nora was a whirlwind, the smartest person you had ever known and unfaltering no matter what the universe threw at her feet. She liked poetry and hard rock music, big men and even bigger women. You had often wondered whether she and Abby had ever hooked up. But you weren’t sure of anything concerning Abby. Always the stony face, the impenetrable wall, the arms-length smile and polite nod in the hallway. It could be infuriating at times. Especially because despite it all, against all your better judgment, you could feel yourself growing more and more interested in her, constantly looking for her in a crowd and sneaking side glances to see if she was listening to you or laughing at the same things.

The car doors banged and the sound echoed through the small space. Manny was laughing about something Abby had said and walked with a bounce in his step as he approached the counter to hand back his keys. Abby looked like she always did, khaki cargo pants and a black cutoff, her green backpack slung over one muscular shoulder. Some strands of hair had escaped her braid and curled up at the back of her neck, slightly damp from her sweat in the hot summer air. Trying to calm down and distract yourself, you let your gaze wander up her strong build, freckled biceps flexing as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. And then she looked straight at you. You didn’t move, stayed frozen as you had for the last few minutes, wishing you were invisible.

Your face felt hot and suddenly there were tears blurring your vision - what was happening?! Your knees started shaking as well, bouncing uncontrollably as your nails dug into the backs of your hands. Your throat was closing up and your bottom lip was quivering. All you saw were specks of grey and green, all you felt was your body resisting every command and rebelling against you, trying to hold you in place and suffocate you silently.

Suddenly the door opened beside you and a soft, deep voice said your name. You tried to blink the tears away but your vision wouldn’t clear up, panic blinding you further. You began shaking your head as your chest convulsed in a desperate attempt to draw breath.

“Fuck, Y/N, okay.” Abby’s voice was determined and suddenly her hands were on your wrists. Her skin was warm and dry, her grip firm. She softly shook your clasped hands and somehow moved so her face was in front of yours, a mess of green and brown and there, soft pink where her lips moved, speaking quietly and telling you to breathe with her. One hand stayed on your wrist and her thumb massaged the cramped up muscle there, digging painfully into your flesh but pulling you back to her slowly. One hand came up closer and a calloused thumb brushed the tears from your cheek before her hand landed on your shoulder, fingers pressing into your upper back.

“Hey, look at me, look at me, Y/N, you’re okay, I’m here. Can you try to breathe in with me on three? Just stop fighting for a moment, count with me and then we’ll breathe in together. Okay? One.”

You tried to sit up straighter and stop the erratic twitching of your chest, still choking on your breath as you waited for her commando.

“Two. Three.”

Her hand pressed between your shoulders from behind and suddenly you could breathe again, a loud gasp that turned into quiet sobs as you fought to release the air from your lungs before breathing in again.

“There we go, you’re doing so good,” Abby’s hand was on your cheek again, “so good, Y/N, breathe with me, that’s right.”

Your vision slowly returned to you now, though it was still distorted by tears. Abby had half-climbed into the truck, one foot between yours and one dangling out of the open door, her weight held up only by her right leg as she pressed her back against the dashboard. A wet laugh escaped you. Abby shot you a confused look, paired with the hint of a relieved smile.

“What?”

“You’re gonna get a cramp as well,” you rasped, “if you keep that up.”

You slid further to the inside of the broad seat, making room for Abby next to you. She grinned and sat down, one hand still on your wrist. Her eyes went down to your trembling hands, your knuckles still white from your iron grip.

“Okay, let’s take care of your hands, hm?”

Her fingers wandered softly over yours, then she rested one hand over your tangled fingers and pushed her other thumb between your palms, gently loosening your hold. She pulled back each finger slowly, starting with your thumbs and stroking each one as they relaxed. Finally, your shaking hands lay freely on your thighs.

“You’re doing so well, Y/N, don’t worry.” She took one of your hands in her lap and started massaging the inside of your palm. “Wanna tell me what got you there?”

You sighed, breath still shaky with tears.

“Um.. We ran into infected today. Runners. Families, it seemed.”

Abby sucked in a breath and gave you back your hand before taking the other and starting the same gentle procedure.

“Those are the hardest. Kids?”

You nodded and Abby made a soft noise. You took another rattling breath.

“I… I lost my little sister. Back when… before I came to you.”

Her head shot up and she stared at you, shock and sympathy playing over her features.

“Fuck, Y/N, you never said…”

“I know.” You lowered your head.

When you had stumbled out of the woods around the WLF stadium and begged them to let you in, they had stripped you and searched you before bringing you to their leader. After hours of questioning to make sure you weren’t a spy for any other group, he knew about your team and everything you had done in the last three years, but you hadn’t mentioned Sierra once. It wouldn’t change anything anyway. They had brought you to Nora who had patched you up, examined you, and fed you before showing you to your new room. It was a small closet on the base level of the stadium, with only a tiny window letting in some light. You were thankful for a roof over your head and the armed posts surrounding the stadium.

“I didn’t want to talk about her. I didn’t lie to Isaac or betray you. It wasn't anyone's business.” You gave Abby a fierce look. Nothing would change your mind about this. She just nodded, her eyes wide. You sighed, brushing your hands against each other.

“She was bitten. I see her every time I close my eyes. It wasn’t fair.” You dropped your hands into your lap. “I just don’t… I can’t -”

Abby’s hand was on yours again, her fingers sliding between yours.

“Hey. I won’t tell anyone. But I’m here, okay? If you want to talk.”

You scoffed.

“No one ever talks here. You’re all made of stone.”

Abby contemplated this for a few seconds, then she squeezed your hand.

“My dad was murdered a few years ago. Almost all of our families are dead.” Now it was your turn to be shocked. Fuck. You had been so insensitive. “By us, I mean Owen, Nora, Jordan, and me. Owen lost his parents to infected and his brothers to the scars just last year.”

Abby leaned back and stared out of the windshield, the garage now dark except for a few small lamps at the exits.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. Of course, I’m in no place to tell you how to deal with it.”

“No, it’s fine. You’re right, you know. We don’t talk about those things.” She looked at you, her gaze so intense you almost pulled back. “Would you like to?”

You forced yourself to hold her gaze.

“I think I would. Now that it’s all… further away.”

Abby nodded, squeezing your hand again.

“Then we’ll talk. You can tell me all about your sister. And… I haven’t talked about my dad in a long time. I think I’d like to tell you about him, too. He was great.”

A small smile played around her lips and you felt a rush of gratitude for this wonderful woman. You could practically see the memories playing through her head behind those green eyes. She blinked, looking back at you.

“Wanna get something to eat? You must be starving. I know I am.”

“Sure.” You shared another smile and exited the car together, fingers still intertwined as you crossed the lot and Abby held the door open for you.

Dinner was already over, but Leah had kept her word and the elder woman at the counter gave you both gigantic bowls of beef stew with thick, coarse bread. You told Abby about your patrol that day and she hummed sympathetically. She knew what it felt like to deal with infected children. After a while, the door to the cafeteria flew open and Manny came in, sleek black hair still wet from a shower. He grinned brightly as he made his way over to you and sat next to you on the metal bench.

“You coming along tonight?” he asked you, drumming his fingers on the table. You raised your eyebrows.

“What’s happening tonight?”

He tutted at Abby and gave her a theatrical frown.

“You didn’t invite Y/N? It’s Mel’s birthday! Owen got his hands on some prime hooch. You celebrating with us?”

You smiled at your plate. The last thing you needed was to get wasted and completely lose any shred of sanity you had left.

“Thanks, but I don’t think I’ll join you. I still haven’t showered and I had a terrible day. I’m just gonna read a bit and pass out, I think.” You gave him an apologetic shrug.

“Oh, come on, Y/N. Read and pass out? It’s a special occasion! You sure?”

“Yeah, but really, thank you for inviting me. Maybe next time.”

He sighed heavily, then he clapped his hand on the table and stood up.

“Abby, you need to get moving, girl. We’re meeting in 20 and you stink.”

Abby just raised her eyebrows and shook her head, finishing her stew. Manny's laughter echoed through the empty room as he left.

“Do I really smell that bad?” There was a twinkle in her eye, a conspiratorial smile on her lips. You smiled back.

“Not at all. He probably smelled me.” You grabbed her empty bowl and placed it in yours. “Go have fun, I’ll clean this up. See you at training.”

Abby cocked her head to the side, seemingly not sure what to do. You gave her another encouraging smile.

“Really, I’m fine. Thank you for taking care of me, I owe you. Go celebrate!”

The tall blonde stood up slowly. She still seemed hesitant.

“I’ll come check on you later if that’s okay. And you can always come over and talk to me if something’s wrong, alright?”

Your chest felt tight all of a sudden, but not in the way it had earlier. It was the feeling of reaching for something knowing you’d never have it, of wanting something so bad and only being able to admire it from a distance. It felt like being homesick. You thought of Sierra again and how she had been your home, the only anchor in your life. Fuck, not now.

You shook your head as if to get rid of your thoughts and gave Abby a brave smile.

“Okay. But I’ll be fine. Promise.”

“Okay. See you later, then.”

“See you.”

Abby gave you a last look over her shoulder before exiting the cafeteria and you made your way over to the kitchen. The cooks had already left and a lanky red-haired boy was the only one still there, washing dishes and listening to music on an mp3 player. The metallic sound in his headphones echoed through the peacefully quiet kitchen. He almost jumped two feet into the air when you approached from the side, bowls in your hand.

“Fuck, you scared the shit out of me! Jesus Christ.” He pressed a wet hand to his chest, the suds leaving a dark print on his shirt.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know how not to scare you, music and all. Sorry.” Both of you had to laugh and he held his dripping hands out for your dirty bowls.

“Don’t worry, I just wasn’t expecting anyone this late. You just come back from a mission?”

“Just a patrol run.”

You leaned against the counter and watched him clean the dishes.

“Anything exciting happen?” His eyes were bright and excited. He was even younger than he had looked at first, he couldn’t be older than 15. “My brother is on patrols too. Maybe you know him, his name is Danny.”

You crossed your arms and tried to remember the face that matched that name. Danny had been on patrol with Owen for a while when you had first arrived, but now he was stationed on some outpost and you hadn’t seen him for a long time.

“Yeah, I think I do. He’s not here at the moment, right?”

“He’s at the Serevena Hotel. I may be able to visit him there soon, depending on how my training goes.”

You raised your eyebrows.

“Training to be a soldier?”

“Of course.” He stood up straight. “I want to do my part, protect our people. Fight the scars.”

You didn’t really know how to respond to that. Even though you were thankful the WLF had taken you in and even though you had also participated in rigorous training from the first day on, soon being cleared for missions, you didn’t really have the same loyalty and faith for the organization. The seraphites were your enemies now, of course, but they were just people. You all were. Sometimes you wondered how it could have come to this - so few people left on this earth and here you were, slaughtering each other.

“I hope you can visit your brother soon.” You let your arms fall to the side and turned to leave. “Thanks for the dishes.”

“No problem,” he mumbled, putting his headphones back in.

You were in no rush to get to your room and so you took a few detours, passing the gym which was filled with quite a lot of people getting their training in after work. You looked into empty classrooms, trying to decipher what was written on the board. Would Sierra have studied here? Sat in the front, eager to learn the things you hadn’t been able to teach her? What if you had come here earlier, before it all happened? Could they have protected her better than you had? She would probably be walking next to you now, telling you about her day.

When you finally arrived at your room, you just quickly grabbed a towel, a clean shirt, and some shorts and headed for the showers. The hot water seemed to help somewhat. You wondered what Abby was up to right now. Probably getting drunk and having fun. Was she the type of person who danced? You had never seen her dance before. Maybe Nora would persuade her. There it was again, that heavy, pulling feeling. You turned the water off, got dressed, and went straight to bed. Enough heartache for one day.

You woke up confused, not knowing where you were at first. It was pitch black and there was some kind of noise outside. You reached around you and finally found the flashlight next to your pillow, turning it on and trying to wipe the sleep from your eyes. What was going on?

It had to be after midnight. The lights in the stadium were only on from 5.30 am to 10 pm in order to save power. You untangled yourself from your sheets and got on your feet, swaying a little. There it was again, that strange scratching noise accompanied by a quiet mumbling sound. It wasn’t directly at your door but seemed to come from further down the corridor. There were a few other people living down here in storerooms and sectioned hallways.

Yawning, you walked to the door and opened it ever so slightly, pressing the flashlight to your thigh in order to keep the light down at first. You couldn’t see anything, so you waved the flashlight around the corridor. Your stomach dropped.

At the far end of the hallway, a small figure stood in front of one of the doors, trying to open it to no avail. Small hands scratched at the wood, quiet brabbling reached your ears. This was wrong. Very wrong. The figure hadn’t noticed the light yet. It went on to the next door, trying the door handle and whining in frustration when it didn’t open.

Why didn’t the people inside wake up from the noise? You stood frozen as the figure tried the next door. It was a child, dressed in dotted pyjamas. Its blonde hair was shoulder length and tangled in knots. You slowly pushed your door open wider in order to step out into the corridor. Suddenly, the hinges squeaked and the sound echoed through the hallway.

The child slowly turned toward you. Blood was dripping from its mouth, its eyes were cold. It took a step toward you. You looked down and realized you were holding a gun. Oh. Right. Infected. You were supposed to shoot them.

As the kid made another strange brabbling sound, more blood ran down the front of the cotton pyjama shirt. You raised the flashlight with shaky fingers and aimed it right at the child's face.

Your blood froze in your veins. No. This couldn’t be. You had taken care of her, you had made sure she wouldn’t… wouldn’t turn into one of these… No, you had given her a peaceful ending.

“Sierra.” Your voice was raspy, quiet with terror. “Sierra, what are you doing here, baby?”

She growled. A horribly wrong sound, coming from someone so small and so lovely. Only she wasn’t lovely anymore. She was sick. Infected.

“Sierra!” You spoke louder now, your voice pleading. “Baby, please don’t do that. It’s me, see?” You raised the flashlight to light your own face for a moment. When you put it back on her, she had stopped walking. Her face was a mask of ice-cold fury. When she spoke, her voice rattled like nails in a metal box, rough like chalk on board.

“Y/N… Why?

You sank to your knees.

“Oh baby, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know what to do. I’m so sorry Siri, I was so helpless. I didn’t know, I didn’t…”

“You… killed… me.”

She was getting dangerously close now and all of a sudden you could smell her, too. Foul, dead, vile. The smell of sickness and decay. You raised the gun, a war raging between your head and your heart.

“Sierra, stop. Stop.” Tears were streaming down your face. “Please stop, Siri. Don’t come any closer. Stop, stop! Please stop!”

Your little baby sister was so close that you could have reached out a hand and brushed through her hair. You stood up and took a step back.

“I’m gonna have to shoot you if you don’t step back. You’re infected, Siri. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but you can’t, please Sierra. Don’t, please don’t…”

She hissed at you and lurched forward. A shot rang through the air and the girl fell to the floor right before you, her tiny body at your feet, blood slowly pooling around her head. You dropped the gun and it clattered on the concrete floor. You clapped your hands to your mouth and screamed into your palms, crying out again and again, trying to gasp for air. It felt like your heart was being torn in two.

Suddenly there was a hand on your shoulder. You whirled around, but there was only darkness. You let yourself fall to the floor and kept weeping into your hands. Someone gripped your wrists and shook them slightly. You opened your eyes.

Abby was sitting on the side of your bed, her face right above yours and full of worry. You shook your head, frantically looking around your room for any kind of danger. The room was almost dark, light just seeping through the crack under the door. It was still early in the night.

“Y/N? Hey, hey. You’re okay.” Abby slowly let go of your wrists. “You had a nightmare. You’re okay now, I’m here.”

You were still too terrified to speak, so you just scooted further to the side and grabbed Abby’s hand, giving her a pleading look. She understood immediately, kicking off her shoes and climbing into bed next to you, holding out her arm for you to crawl into. You pressed yourself to her side and rested your head on her chest, feeling yourself tremble in her arms. She just held you for a while, letting you listen to her heartbeat until your own body began to calm down.

“Hi,” you whispered into the dim room. Abby stroked your hair while she held you tightly.

“Hey there,” she mumbled back. “Feeling better?”

“Not really.” You looked up at her. She smelled faintly of alcohol and something sweet. “How was your party?”

The corner of her mouth twitched.

“It was absolute chaos. I had to escape from there before it could consume me. And I also had someone to check on.” She squeezed your shoulder. You cringed at the thought of her finding you like this, writhing and talking in your sleep, crying out or even fighting her without knowing who was in front of you. You had always had horrible nightmares and Sierra had taken the brunt of them, waking you countless nights and trying to stay brave when you yelled at her or shoved her away in the first moments of consciousness, not yet fully back in the real world. Now that she was gone, they were a hundred times worse. You pressed your forehead to Abby’s shoulder.

“Did I scream?”

“Not really. I just knocked a few times and then I heard you talking, and you sounded so panicked that I thought I should make sure… I’m sorry I just came in like that.”

You shook your head.

“No, don’t. Thank you for waking me. It was… God, I hate this.”

Abby’s fingers combed through your hair, massaging your scalp. It was heavenly.

“Does this happen a lot?”

You snorted involuntarily.

“Every night. Several times. I never sleep through and I never sleep enough.” You wiped a hand over your face. “Sorry, I know I’m not the only one and it could be worse. It’s just… hard.”

“Excuse me?” Abby’s tone made you look up at her. “You’re telling me you have several panic attacks in your sleep every night but it’s fine because others have nightmares, too?”

You frowned. Panic attacks? You’d never thought of it that way.

“Y/N, you’re allowed to complain. To me especially. Remember, we wanted to talk about our problems? Be open about all this?”

She was right. You pressed yourself closer to her.

“I guess, yeah. Thank you for… for being here.”

“Wanna tell me about your nightmare?”

You held onto Abby’s shirt, clenching the fabric in your fist as if she might be ripped from you at any moment.

“I don’t know… I mean, why not. Well…” How were you even supposed to explain all this? How would you ever talk about your sister without freaking out again?

Abby pressed a kiss to the top of your head and you felt the tension in your stomach dissolve. You took a deep breath.

“I can never tell I’m dreaming. This time I thought I heard something in the corridor and I went to see what it was. A little girl was scratching on doors, trying to get in. She looked like the… like one of the infected we ran into today. But I made a noise and when she turned around she was... She was -” You gasped for air, trying to keep your calm. Abby hummed softly, stroking your back and giving you time to think.

“She had the face of my sister. Sierra.” You hadn’t said her name out loud in so long, only in the nightmares. Maybe it was time to rid her name of that terror, that fear, and grant it the love and warmth it deserved. “Sierra was my little sister. We ran with a group the last few years, stayed with them after our mom died. But she was bitten and I had to… I had to let her go.” You swallowed hard. Abby’s thumb drew circles on your back.

“So in the dream… the girl turned around and she was her . And I didn’t know what to do. I begged her to stop, to not come any closer because she was infected, she was bleeding, and -” You drew in another breath and buried your face in Abby’s chest. “She asked me why I’d done it, why I had… and she kept coming and then she attacked me and I - I had to, I had to shoot her.”

Hot tears were burning in your eyes and your throat was impossibly tight again. Abby gently placed a hand on your cheek and turned your face up toward her.

“I’m not gonna tell you it was just a dream because I know it's more complicated than that. I get them, too, sometimes. But what I can tell you is that I’m here, that you’re safe now, that your sister is in a better place and that one day you will be able to speak about her without feeling like you’re falling apart.”

“You think so?”

“I’m sure of it. And now you're with me. We can heal together. I’m here, I’ll always be here for you, okay?”

You raised your head from her chest and turned a little in order to get face to face with her.

“Abby?”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you doing this? Why now? I didn’t even think you liked me. You don’t have to take care of me.”

Abby’s features softened and she huffed out a silent laugh.

“I don’t know. I really… You were right when you said we keep everything to ourselves. But some of us do it more than others. And I guess I’m the worst when it comes to showing what I want.”

The sentence hung in the air for a moment. Abby took a deep breath.

“I like you, I really do. I just thought you needed more time. I know what it’s like to suffer and to feel like you can’t breathe. I wanted to give you space. But then I saw you in the car and I immediately knew what was happening. And I finally realized that I wouldn’t make things better by staying away.”

She held your gaze and you felt something shift between you. Her hand on your back came to a halt. You smiled softly.

“I always thought you didn’t find me interesting enough to talk to me. I was so jealous of the others for being this close to you and for making you laugh. I wanted that, too.”

“You’re the most interesting person that’s ever walked into this stadium,” Abby said softly. “God, I’m so sorry. I never wanted you to feel left out.”

You rested your head back on her shoulder.

“You made it up to me already. Really, you saved me today. Twice.”

Abby chuckled.

“Just wait until I have my next breakdown and then you can return the favor. Shouldn’t be long, they get to me every few days.”

You wrapped your arms around her torso.

“Well, then you’ll just have to stay close by.”

She hesitated, holding her breath for a second. You waited.

“Do you want me to stay? Tonight?”

You smiled to yourself.

“Would you?”

“Of course.”

You kept talking for a while. Abby told you about the party and about the cook Nora was currently hooking up with, and you told her about the boy in the kitchen. She recalled training with Danny when she first joined the WLF, laughing about how he had boasted that he wouldn’t lose to a girl and how she had him on the ground in a headlock in about two seconds.

At some point you must have fallen asleep, because the next thing you knew you were in the truck again, sitting in the passenger seat as the car flew through Seattle at top speed. You looked over and in the driver's seat there was the red-haired boy from the kitchen. His face was determined, a hard mask of concentration. He was panting hard, driving as fast as he could. Arrows were flying around you, soaring through the broken windows of the car and missing you by mere inches. A horse was whinnying. Scars. You immediately pulled out your gun and started shooting at everything that moved outside, hitting at least three people and a horse.

“Sorry,” you whispered as you reloaded. Animals weren’t fair.

You looked up and suddenly there was someone standing in the middle of the street. A small girl, brown-haired and in a red dress. Her back was to you. You screamed at the driver, but it was too late. The truck hit the child and it was thrown against the windshield, making a horrible noise as it cracked the glass and rolled over the roof to the back of the car where it fell to the ground. The truck came to a shrieking halt and you jumped out, gun drawn. The scars had vanished. You and the redhead ran back to where the girl was laying in a heap on the street, so small and fragile. Blood was running through the cracks in the pavement.

You turned the girl on her back and froze when you saw her face.

“Sierra! No, no, no, oh god no, what have we done - Sierra, Sierra, baby, look at me!”

“Y/N!” You heard your name but Sierra’s lips weren’t moving. “Y/N!” You whipped your head around and woke up.

It was dark and Abby had an arm wrapped around you, the other was holding your cheek. You swallowed and struggled for air.

“I’ve got you, hey, just breathe for me, I’ve got you.” Abby’s voice was sleepy and rough, something you'd have never thought you’d have the privilege of hearing. It calmed you down instantly. You dug your fingers into her arm, strong muscle flexing beneath your touch.

“Shhh, that’s right, just hold on. You’re okay.” You melted into her arms, hands and legs still shaking. She made a quiet humming noise in the back of her throat and pressed another kiss to your scalp. “I’m here. I’ll take care of you. I’m here.”

“You’re here,” you whispered and she hummed again in response. You rested your head against her chest and listened to her breaths as they slowly became more regular, chest steadily moving against you. Her heartbeat thumped softly in your ear. Cocooned in the wolf’s arms and serenaded by the quiet symphony of her sleeping body, you finally drifted off to sleep again.

#abby anderson #abby tlou #abby tlou2 #abby anderson fic #fanfiction #angst #fluff #hurt/comfort #angst/comfort #angst/fluff #manny tlou #wlf #washington liberation front #abby anderson / reader #abby/reader

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aquaburst3 · 3 years

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So...since the game dropped in the west, I've seen asks on other blogs and other posts questioning why people would make Yuu a girl in their works. I was expecting this. But as someone who has a girl "Yuusona" (who is an OC different from myself, NOT a self insert), I want to explain why myself and others make this choice.

Before I begin, this is NOT a call out post for anyone in particular nor me getting defensive about my writing choices...despite how this might come off. I just want to clear the air for people wondering about this, at least from a fanfic writing prospective. That's it.

---

For starters, I don't think that canon Yuu and the one in my fic are one in the same. Just like how Yuuken (the manga protagonist) is a different character than the one in the game. I see Yuu in the game as non-binary and masculine presenting. Adriana in my story, like Yuuken, is not a blank slate and her own character, thusly having her own distinct background, personality and goals. She makes different choices than the one in game, which has a ripple effect on how the rest of the series unfolds. While others might imagine canon!Yuu as a girl simply because they are one themselves, which is perfectly fine.

As for why I made this choice, I can't speak for everyone, obviously, but my major reasons are these...

I have an easier time writing in first person than third for longer stories. (Swear I'm the opposite of a lot of people in that regard, including my friends. xD) This writing style comes easier to me when I write character who are the same gender as me.

Isekai stories, at least more modern Japanese ones, tend to be very male centric power fantasies where the guy becomes all powerful and gets a harem of hot babes falling at his feet and never worries about the other world thanks to being reincarnated in it. There are exceptions to this, but that is still the norm in this "genre". I love bucking trends and doing the opposite of them in my writing. Having a male Yuu would be too cliche wouldn't be fun for me to write about. Same even goes for a magical one.

It also adds a lot more conflict. If Adriana was "Adrian" instead, then he would automatically fit in a little better due to his gender. But if she was a girl, then things would be a bit more of a struggle. She would have to put up with guys flirting with her. She would stick out more. Since Adriana has a cellphone in my story, she also has to put up with other girls talking smack about her being a "slut" and stuff online for being in a situation that she can't control. Having all male universities (since the one in my fic series is) be the norm in modern times is much more of a culture shock that she must quickly adapt to.

It also makes the story different than the canon. The characters would automatically treat Adriana differently than the one in the canon. Leona is much more of a tsundere gentleman around her and is much more willing to help her out when she asks (after Book 2), Adeuce are pretty protective over her, Grim is much more willing to jump into action and defend her, etc. Obviously, the degree varies from character to character. For instance, it matters more for someone like Ruggie than it does for Trey or Riddle, but the tweaks are still present. These changes affect how the series unfolds in both small and huge ways. Any changes that makes the story more unexpected is a welcome one in my book.

I wanted to make the MC twisted in their own right while being based in reality. But at the same time, I didn't want to make the character so irredeemable that I would want to launch them into the sun like a homophobe. I went with the rich, popular girl trope, so I can play around with it and deconstruct it. While there are male characters who are like this like Anwar from Sex Education, they are harder to come by, and I had to go the common route to deconstruct the trope properly.

I just simply imagined Adriana as a girl in my head as I created her.

That also brings up some other "issues" around this idea. I'll try my best to explain me and other fic writers with female Yuus skirted around these issues...

What about all of the dangerous situations that Yuu gets into? If attempted murder and bullying flies there, what about everything else? Wouldn't Yuu have to be worried about being hurt or even worse?

I think this concern, while still super valid, is less of an issue than some people make it out to be.

Yuu would be put into all of the dangerous situations regardless of their gender. The biggest concern is that they are magicless and aren't be able to defend themselves, always relying on the help of others around them. Gender plays no role in that.

As for the...really dark shit (if you catch my drift), I think that's highly unlikely to ever happen. Yes, these guys are mainly based on villains with some elements of the heroines/heroes and have done messed up things, but I don't ever see any of the named characters stooping that low outside of yandere fanfics. Everyone from Sunset Savannah drinks their Respect Women Juice. All of the other characters treat women well, albeit to a lesser extreme. Even if anyone wanted to, which, again, none of them would, they would be forced to hold back due to the political and social ramifications would be FAR worse than irl. After all, a lot of these guys come from royalty or affluent families, so the press would have a field day if that went down. If an NPC ever pulled that on Yuu, I think Adeuce, Leona or anyone else would make them regret the day they were born.

How would girl!Yuu defend herself?

This varies a lot from character to character. Some are able to use their wits and cunning to get by. (This is the direction I went in, btw) Others are athletic and are able to do martial arts. There are a fair amount of Yuus from the Harry Potter universe, who are able to use magic.

As for how girl!Yuu survives and handles the overblot fights, the most common way I've seen is making her like a general who gives the others commands from the sidelines. This also carries over to a lot of the male and nonbinary ones as well. This is the direction that I mostly went in while adding in her trying to run up to the battle in a safe distance and snap a picture of them with the Ghost Camera to make them automatically break out of that state.

Why would NRC allow a girl to stay there? It's an all-boys school!

Simple. Yuu has no where else to go, so Crowley makes an exception just for her. I don't see that changing.

I've also seen other authors say that the school has allowed a couple other girls in the past. Not super common, but it does pop up in fics sometimes.

What about scandals that would start up because of a girl attending the school?

Again, not really a huge issue. NRC is a prestigious school. The headmaster can stop rumours like that from happening. Look at Book 6. He could easily spin a story into a positive, saying that it shows off how flexible the administration is for allowing a girl to attend.

What about Leona threatening to hurt Yuu during Book One? And some of the other shit? Wouldn't those instances make little sense and be super OOC?

You're right. Those aspects of the story wouldn't make sense if Yuu was a girl. However, a lot of authors simply alter these parts fit those characters. For example, making Leona just say something like, "Normally, I would take a tooth as payment, but since you're a girl, just scram!" during the part where he threatens to punch Yuu. Not a huge issue.

---

That's all I can think of. At the end of the day, Yuu in the game is a gender neutral self insert, so they are whatever gender, sexuality, race, etc that you want them to be. If you don't like the idea of female Yuusonas for whatever reason, just leave the work in question and move on. Life is too short to waste time hating on a fandom concept. There are plenty of other fics with male Yuus or just focus on the canon characters without Yuu at all.

#aqua rambles

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p-and-p-admin · 4 years

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Interview given to The Severus Snape and Hermione Granger Shipping Fan Group. (sharing here Admin approved)

https://www.facebook.com/groups/199718373383293/

Hello IShouldBeWritingSomethingElse and welcome to Behind the Quill, it’s wonderful to finally have the chance to chat with you.

Many readers will know you from your extensive catalogue of works like Convergence, A Soul-Mate’s Kiss, Entangled and of course, The Ribboned-Witch

Okay, let’s jump right in. What's the story behind your pen name? It’s a simple one. I should be writing anything but fanfiction, ie o-fic. I need the pennies! Which Harry Potter character do you identify with the most? Probably a mix of Snape and Granger. Snape’s general curmudgeonliness (is that even a word?!) and Granger’s swottiness, (also perhaps not a word…) Do you have a favourite genre to read? (not in fic, just in general) Romance. Always romance. I am addicted to my Happily Ever Afters. Do you have a favourite "classic" novel? Persuasion by Jane Austen. Reunited lovers, a fave trope. At what age did you start writing? 14. How did you get into writing fanfiction? I blame Wolverine. I fell into Rogan (Wolverine and Rogue) in 2011, then starting writing it, when I *should* have been writing my o-fic…. What's the best theme you've ever come across in a fic? Is it a theme represented in your own works? The Marriage Law Challenge. Can that be called a theme? I love that, and have written a few. It’s probably an equal love with soul-mates/fated mates. I’ve written a few of those, too. What fandoms are you involved in other than Harry Potter? I’m a fairly linear shipper. So it was Rogan, then Sherlolly…then SSHG and it’s been only that for *gulp* almost seven years. If you could make one change to canon, what would it be? Do you have a favourite piece of fanon? Naturally, Severus Snape lives (not that he died in the first place!). Fanon? At the minute, I’ve read so much fanfiction, I’m not sure what’s solely in the books anymore! Dark Revels, maybe? Or could Jason Issac’s idea for long hair for Lucius Malfoy be considered fanon? lol Do you listen to music when you write or do you prefer quiet? It varies. Sometimes it’s whatever I have listed on Amazon Prime, or various rainy ASMRs. I so have a creativity sound thing that’s supposed to tap into your writing brain. It runs for 3 hours and does *seem* to work…when I remember to turn it on! What are your favourite fanfictions of all time? Hope Reawakened - Georgesgurl117 A Place in the World - Noodle In the Darkness in Which We Are Made - Corvusdraconis A Number of Ways to Kill Ron Weasley - Ms-Figg From the Corner - Coffeeonthepatio Chocolate Enchantment - Vivian B Forged in Flames - MsWhich Owned - TwilightDarkness82 Three Pregnancies and an Adoption - rhapsodybree A Witchhiker’s Guide to Beltane - TeddyRadiator Romancing the War - Pubella The Marriage Benefit - Miamadwyn The Nature of the Phoenix - scatteredlogic Vomica Domintor - Always_ss There are probably fistfuls more… lol Are you a plotter or a pantser? How does that affect your writing process? A panster. Which is why I often get to the middle of the middle of a story (*the* hardest place!) and it stalls! What is your writing genre of choice? Romance. Always. Which of your stories are you most proud of? Why? Ignis Tactus, mainly for the feel of it. And chapter 5, because of quality of the writing. It’s intimacy. Did it unfold as you imagined it or did you find the unexpected cropped up as you wrote? What did you learn from writing it? I had a vague idea of where it was going and wrote the first chapters in a few days. Chapter 5 took longer - as the smexiness always does. It was a reminder to pick out the right detail, which is a simple idea and the hardest to achieve. How personal is the story to you, and do you think that made it harder or easier to write? It wasn’t personal, I don’t think. A story is always a tapestry to me, weaving threads together to make sense. What books or authors have influenced you? How do you think that shows in your writing? Probably from years back, Orwell and Hemingway. And a shedload of poetry. It’s made me aware of language and to aim to use the least words I can to sharpen the imagery, dialogue and setting. Do people in your everyday life know you write fanfiction? My other half does and that’s about it. I keep my fanfiction separate from my o-fic world. How true for you is the notion of "writing for yourself"? I like to write what I want to read, so very true? lol How important is it for you to interact with your audience? How do you engage with them? Just at the point of publishing? Through social media? I’m a social media hermit, tbh. I’m on the usual sites, because I have to be for work…and even then, I can happily wander away for weeks! I envy people who do social stuff naturally. What is the best advice you've received about writing? Look at your verbs and make them strong. What do you do when you hit writer's block? I’m been blocked for about 2/3 years, which is why I’ve slacked on writing, both fanfic and o-fic. I’m still trying to find a way around it. At the minute, I mostly play with digital art/Daz3d. Has anything in real life trickled down into your writing? Very probably. I do sit and ‘feel’ the emotion in a scene as I write it. Do you have any stories in the works? Can you give us a teaser? I’m plugging away on bits and pieces, the odd few hundred words here and there. So this is a bit of a bare snippet from The Offer of Just One More (yes, I also peck at that!) “Victoire said you’re mean, Daddy.” Alexandra’s little Severus scowl was quite plain. “I said you weren’t, so she tried to pull my hair. So we sat on her,” she pointed to herself, Oona and a beaming Olivia, “until she said you wasn’t…weren’t.” Hermione sighed. The Burrow was a bloody minefield. And she was certain there was more than Ron stirring trouble, through their children, to get in a dig at Severus. “You shouldn’t sit on people who disagree with you,” Severus murmured. There was a light in his eyes. Hermione was sure she’d get the blame for their three daughters being little hellions. A lifted eyebrow and the murmured, “Draco? An attack of birds? Setting me on fire?” “She sat under the tree with us last week when you were at the Burrow,” Emily said. Obviously their eldest had known about the altercation. And supported it. The Snape girls were just as protective of their father as he was as them. It was sweet. In a Mafioso sort of way… “It was the troll then, too. And she thinks you’re the best storyteller, now.” “Troll!” Meredith cried, waving her juice cup, obviously at the end of her patience in waiting for her story. “The troll, indeed, Meredith.” The toddler beamed up at her father and clapped her hands. Severus glanced down at a still-sleeping Hannah. His voice was soft as he asked. “So…who is the hero of this story?” Five little girls grinned and looked towards Hermione. She blushed. “Mummy!”

“And who is the villain?”

“The Troll!” Oona and Olivia declared. “Because he attacked her.”

“Quirrell. He released the troll.” Alexandra said. Emily shook her head.

“She wouldn’t be in the toilet at all without Ronald Weasley.”

“Weedy!” Meredith laughed and the semi-circle of girls fell into giggles. Her eldest had recently taken a sharp dislike to her old friend. Hermione’s eyes met her husband’s. They would have to keep an eye on what the ginger menace was saying around their children. Or wait four years, and let Emily hex him. Any words of encouragement to other writers? Write what calls to you…and find your fun in playing with language. Hunt out those moments where you go ‘ooh, that’s good!’ Thanks so much for giving us your time. No worries. A pleasure :)

#fanfiction #fanfic #snamione #writing

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alyssamski1320 · 4 years

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Breaking the Ice

Platonic Prinxiety (just your traditional “enemies to best friends” trope)

Warnings: None

Word count :1737 words

Summary: Figure skater/hockey player AU; Roman is a star hockey player and Virgil is a talented figure skater. They have always had this turmoil between them, but can that all change?

A/N: Ok so I had to write a creative writing piece for my first english paper. I saw this as a challenge to write my first fanfic. It is also kind of super descriptive because my professor said to keep the dialogue to a minimum, so I am sorry about that. I accept constructive criticism, so please dm me or comment anything if you want to!

Virgil Sanders opened the front door to be greeted by the brisk morning air. The start of a new season was ready to be tackled with no limitations holding him back. He was five foot nine with a raggedy purple fringe and deep brown eyes with black eyeliner smudged underneath. The teen hurried down the driveway with autumn leaves crunching beneath every step his black Converse took. He excitedly threw his purple backpack, covered in pins and patches, into the back seat of his black Jeep Wrangler. After rolling his windows down and plugging in his phone to play some Mayday Parade, Virgil sped off to the rink for practice.

Immediately upon opening the metal double doors, Virgil was hit softly by a rush of cool air. Walking into the warm room of the rink to be greeted by familiar smiles and friendly faces was already making his day. He eagerly unzipped his bag and pulled out his pitch black skates with a new set of sharp purple Paramount blades attached. In the background, conversations between the other skaters could be heard, but he wasn’t paying attention enough to decipher them. The loud music playing in his single earbud was enough to take him away from the world, even if it were only for a moment. All he wanted was to hear his deep edges rip into the freshly cut ice as he shifted his weight from the inside and outside of his blade. Before that, Virgil would appreciate the smooth glide that he could flawlessly hold on the bright, pristine ice prior to the hockey teams that would soon come to dig and chop it up. He had nothing against the local hockey teams, but the disrespect they showed towards the rink staff, figure skaters, and even the ice itself was maddening. The holes they left were almost the sizes of baseballs, the ridges they cut so deep that simply gliding over them could no longer be an option, and the constant mouth guards left along the boards, still dripping soggily with warm saliva. The thought of the latter making him shudder with complete disgust.

Even with the cool chill radiating from the ice’s surface, Virgil was still fairly warm. Being a figure skater, you become almost immune to the cold and learn to never forget a jacket. The boy had forgotten only once and now arrives prepared wearing his trademark hoodie every practice, his favorite article of clothing in his closet. It was a black zip-up hoodie covered in purple and black plaid patches. The patches were scattered among the hoodie, lazily stitched on with white thread and on the front was his club’s logo, a storm cloud, embroidered with purple thread.

Eventually, the teen stopped by the boards to take a break, but that was when he felt eyes on him. He knew he wasn’t the only skater on that session, but the piercing stare he could feel, even with his back turned, was too much to let go. Virgil whipped around, stumbling over his skates as an old friend startled him. He didn’t even know if he could call Roman a friend because Roman Prince wasn’t a figure skater, he played center forward for the Sudro City Knights. The teen stood tall at six foot one and had neatly groomed mocha locks, his light brown eyes staring down the anxious boy. The cheap, damaged practice jersey he was wearing reeked of pure body odor from the weeks of wear without wash. After the couple seconds, which seemed like forever for poor Virgil, the taller boy leaned in close with a smug look plastered on his face.

“Hiya Dr Doom and Gloom.” Roman teased, leaning his stick up against the glass and sitting back onto the benches. “What is the purple ballerina going to dance to this year? Hopefully another song from Beetlejuice the Musical! I do enjoy you looking even more edgy than usual.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, clearly not amused. “Oh, what a laugh Princey. Ya know, I would love to really see you try what I do.” The purple clad boy stated, folding his arms and leaning his chest against the boards. “I don’t even think you’re coordinated enough to do a two foot spin.” The stunned and anger-filled look that washed over Roman’s features gave him the exact answer he needed.

“Alright, that’s it mister Jack Smellington!” Roman rapidly stood up, grabbing his stick and towering over the smaller teen. “Meet me back here after hours and we’ll really see who the best is!”

“I’ll be back don’t you worry. As long as you don’t pull a Tonya Harding on me, I’ll be glad to show you how to really skate!” Virgil grabbed his now empty water bottle from the boards and skated away, shooting the star player a shit-eating grin. By the time he got off the ice and closed the heavy door behind him, the scratches of the rest of the team could be heard as they jumped the boards for practice. He quickly unlaced his skates, swiping the snow off of his blades and wiping off the excess water droplets with his old, black rag.

The skates were packed away as he walked out of those same metal double doors and climbed into his car. Before pulling away, Virgil checked his phone to see an unusual text: I’ll pick you up for our little match up later. You’re on my way to the rink, so be ready by 7 or I’m leaving without you. Shocked by the text, he closed his phone, rolling his windows down again and proceeding to play the rest of his Mayday Parade playlist on his drive home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Virgil was waiting for Roman to pull up, he pulled out his phone to play Vindicated by Dashboard Confessional while he scrolled through Tumblr. Right when he opened the app, the hockey player in his beat-up silver Chevy Cruze, blasting Brave New Girl by Britney Spears, rolled up into his driveway. Roman screamed before Virgil could even close his front door, “Get in loser, we’re going to the rink!”

Virgil threw his backpack into the back seat and hesitantly hopped into the car. Although Roman played hockey, his car was fairly clean and his front seat had a very distinct smell compared to the back, where their skates were lazily thrown. The front of the car had a small hint of vanilla while the back seat had a scent of exactly what you can imagine, pure body odor from his balled-up practice jersey. The short drive to the rink felt like ages passed as the boy silently watched the scenery unfold outside of his window, laying his face in the palm of his hand. Upon stopping at a red light, he was startled out of his awkward, yet serene state he was in from a light nudge at his ribs. He looked over to find Roman kindly smiling at him, which was very unusual between the two.

“Are you okay, Hot Topic? You’ve been pretty quiet the whole ride.” Virgil was stunned by the sudden change in Roman’s attitude. He was just insulting him early that same day. “I know we fight and all, but the least you can do is keep me a little company.” The smaller teen almost frowned, feeling a little bad for his actions. Maybe he genuinely wanted to change?

He forced a small smile onto his normally brooding face, although the other could not see this with his attention on the road. “Yea I’m ok, don’t worry about it.”

Upon arrival, they both grabbed their bags and walked into the rink, smiling at each other. Roman was wearing a white hoodie with a knight on it, his mascot, and black Adidas sweatpants with three white stripes straight down the sides. Virgil matched Roman, except he was wearing his traditional black and purple patchwork zip-up. They stepped onto the ice and without a word Virgil set himself to work. He started at one end, gliding and connecting with the ice. With every bracket, twizzle, and step he took throughout his footwork, he let the ice take control. Each edge was deep, delicately ripping into the ice and sending him closer to the opposing side. Right before reaching the boards, he pushed into an outside mohawk, gaining speed as every crossover sounded through the rink. Roman was still standing at the door, astonished by the normally quiet and anxious boy. Lastly, Virgil was set, gliding on his back outside edge, and leaped into an axel, landing the one and a half revolution jump in a solid landing position. The teen flawlessly turned forward and slid into a sharp hockey stop, hitting Roman with a spray of cool snow. “So, can you top that Dr Do-The-Most?” Virgil looked up at him with a playful gleam in his eyes despite the antagonizing smirk that plagued his features. The taller teen was still in shock, but he eventually snapped out of it and smiled at the other.

“Now I see why you always made comments about out skating me. You truly are amazing Virgil!” The smirk never left the other’s face, the satisfaction from the statement only making it grow.

“You could always quit hockey. I know you may not want to and this is a bit of a stretch, but at least take this into consideration” Roman’s attention was gripped by the bold statement the smaller boy just made. “You’re pretty strong and you already know the basics of skating. You would make a great pair skater with some practice.” Virgil’s anxiety peaked and the other could tell. Now, he was not opposed to skating with Virgil, but hockey was his life. After a minute or two of silence, the taller teen lightly gripped the anxious boy’s shoulder, forcing his eyes off of the ice and into Roman’s. A steady gaze connected the two alone on the ice.

“Would you be my partner if I quit hockey?” Virgil was in complete shock, leading him to just rapidly nod his head and immediately wrap his arms around Roman, closing the gap between them. Their shared warmth made the cool air seem almost nonexistent.

He took back his statement from earlier about the taller boy. After years of fighting through high school, Virgil Sanders realized he definitely could call Roman Prince a friend.

#the sanders sides #sanders sides #ts roman #ts virgil #roman #virgil #prinxiety #figure skating #hockey #tss #tssides #ts sides #sanders sides au #fanfic #fanfiction

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avengerscompound · 5 years

Text

Finding Home - Chapter 11

Finding Home: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist Previous //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x OFC (Daisy Adams)

Word Count: 2807

Warnings: Angst, mentions of torture, violence, major character death, mentions of sexual abuse/rape, pregnancy, smut (vaginal sex, oral sex, pregnancy sex, Bisexual MMF threesome)

Synopsis: Daisy Adams has abilities. She can read minds. Force her thoughts onto others. As a child, she is taken by Hydra and raised as a weapon. Daisy finds another and speaks to him in his dreams. He has been taken too. He wants to return to the man he loves. Can she get them back together? Will she even want to once she realizes that she’s falling in love?

Chapter 11

I sat and waited, watching everything unfold on the news like the rest of the world. I saw Sokovia start to rise into the sky. I saw the people left on the ground fleeing in terror. People trapped in rubble. I wanted to reach out and touch all of them. Steve. Nat. All my friends. Even the twins who I didn’t know and didn’t fully trust. I was by myself though and worried if I did that I’d lose myself and James would be here alone.

I kept feeling Bucky. He was watching too. He was near coming back to me. He saw Steve and he was so positive that what was happening was the end. He felt terror for his friend. For himself. For me being alone. He wanted to be there and he wanted to find him. I let my fear radiate out of me. Trying to make it like a beacon to him but James picked up on it and started to cry, so I stopped.

The floating city was approached by a huge helicarrier. Like the ones that fell out of the sky when I finally freed myself from Hydra. When they had moved clear again the city dropped and exploded. It felt like my heart stopped and I sent my mind out almost against my will. I touched on Steve. He was alright. Exhausted. In pain. Alive.

Things changed. We moved from the tower in the city to a new compound in upstate New York. The members of the team who were seen more secondary members, like me and Rhodie and Sam were brought in full time. They all moved to the compound permanently. Wanda and the new life, who was now going by Vision were brought into the Avengers too.

Bruce had disappeared. I actually knew exactly where to find him. I told Steve I knew but that I didn’t want to say. He wanted to disappear. I was going to let him.

Tony left. He said he was done with ‘Avenging’. He was still financing the operation but he needed to physically step away from it. He’d still come and see us, but the visits became less and less as time passed. Each time I saw him he seemed more and more broken. I wanted to go into his mind and just delete the hurt. I could do that. I’m sure I could.

Thor left too. He was returning to Asgard worried about the vision he’d seen.

Wanda’s brother Pietro had been killed in Sokovia. She was broken by it. I tried to imagine what it would be like if Bucky had died with the connection we had. It made my heart hurt.

So I reached out to her. We had a horrible shared life experience that had almost resulted in the same outcome. We were taken by Hydra. Sure she chose that but it wasn’t really a choice made by anything other than desperation. We both had these abilities that were scarily similar. I couldn’t do the telekinetic thing but she wasn’t as strong a telepath as I was.

We became friends. It was slightly uneasy, to begin with. She was scared of me. Of what I was capable of doing to her mind. She didn’t like that I could see what she was thinking, even though she was able to do the same thing to others. She also didn’t like that I was easily able to keep her out of my head. I didn’t like how her telepathy felt. It felt like the stone. The stone still worried me despite the fact it was being kept safe in Vision. If I was totally honest, I was scared of her too. I could only read her if I applied massive effort to do so and she could hurt me. I knew it.

Still, it happened. We became friends. It was slow, but we were patient with each other. Soon we would have whole conversations without opening our mouths. Everyone hated it. We would be sitting there chatting away and we’d start laughing about something we shared and everyone would glare at us. It was even funnier if we weren’t in the same room. I’d be alone with Steve and he’d be telling me some boring thing that I probably should be listening too. I’d call out help to Wanda and she’d send the funniest mental image to me and I’d burst out laughing. Steve would always scold both of us like naughty children.

Speaking of children, James was developing very quickly. He was bigger than the average child of his age. Over a year passed in the compound. At one he could walk. He could build these complex structures out of blocks. He could communicate these complex ideas with me. What he didn’t do was make any sound. He only ever cried when hurt. It was like he had no desire to learn to speak. I’d just made it too easy for him to not have to.

Steve didn’t seem to notice James’ strange development. He was in love with that boy. James was still Bucky’s son in his head. In a way that made him more special in Steve’s mind. He wasn’t just Bucky’s son though, not just mine either. James was his son. He thought of him as all of ours. He’d also started thinking of what it would be like having Bucky back in his life. In our life. He had visions of the three of us teaching James to ride a bike. Playing football out on the field that ran down the side of the facility. Of James in bed and the three of us just curled up together on the couch reading or watching TV, but all of us together. A family.

It made me desperate to find Bucky. I was now talking to him. Begging him to let us find him. Assuring him it would be okay. Sometimes he would listen. Sometimes the Soldier would hold me out. He was adamant that it wasn’t safe. I couldn’t seem to convince him otherwise. I realize the hypocrisy of my actions given that I was happy to let Bruce go live his own life, but I needed Bucky back. Steve needed him back.

I physically healed and started training my powers. It was hard because no one wanted me to use them on them. So instead I sent my mind out a lot. Touch on people far away. I think I was stretching myself. Those nosebleeds were becoming almost a daily occurrence. I’d also started actively keeping Steve’s mind silent. On days we spent totally together, I ended up with a headache so bad that it felt my skull had spilt open. I don’t know what was going on that using my abilities hurt me so much. I was a little scared to find out.

Steve became obsessed with training me for combat. He hated the idea of me not being able to physically defend myself. He would take me to the gym every day he was home and teach me self-defensive moves while Nat or Wanda watched James.

I was not a good student.

Steve would try so hard to teach me how to defend myself. I wasn’t getting it. I couldn’t get the moves he was trying to teach me anywhere near the realm of being right. I became less and less inclined to try. Which made Steve more and more frustrated with me.

One other problem I was having was working out with Steve. Him using his strength against me. How often he grabbed me from behind. It was a turn on. I kept getting easily distracted by how badly I just wanted to jump him.

“Daisy. You need to take this seriously.” Steve snapped at me. He held me, one arm around my shoulders the other around my midriff. I had wriggled against him and leaned my head back on his shoulder.

“Well, then stop being so sexy.” I purred, nuzzling against his neck.

He pushed me away from him and turned me to face him. “Do you think this is a joke? This is serious. I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“I do actually.” I took two steps back from him. “Try and take me, Steve. Go on. I’ll show you what I can do.”

Steve went to lunge at me and I shut down the part of his brain that controlled his gross motor function. He stood stock-still staring at me. Helpless.

“I’m not good at physical fighting. I don’t need to be.” I snapped at him and let him go. He fell to his knees.

I walked over to him and offered him my hand. He pulled me, flipping me over his head. He backward rolled so he was sitting straddling me, pinning my hands over my head.

“You can be surprised, Daisy. Your mental powers have their limitations.” He said staring down at me.

“I get surprised by you because I actively lock you out of my head. Most people don’t get that kind of consideration from me.” I said. This position wasn’t helping anything though. I ground my hips up into him.

“Your powers don’t seem to work on Alien life. They definitely don’t work against machines. You need to learn this.” He reasoned with me.

“I’m not good at this. I’m never going to be good at this. Even if I get reasonable at this, do you think I’m ever going to be physically strong enough to fight one of the iron legion? Because I don’t. I’m not you, Steve.”

He leaned in close to me, his lips close to mine, staring deep in my eyes. “You like it though. Don’t you, Daisy? You like training with me.”

I swallowed and licked my lips, wriggling against him. “Yes.”

“If you can pin me, you can have what you want.” He purred.

“But what I want is for you to take me,” I whined.

“You think once you pin me, I can’t then pin you?” He growled.

Fuck. I loved when he got like this. This was special. Something just for me. He got to his feet and pulled me up.

We stepped apart and he put himself into a fighting stance.

“Amène toi voir.” He said gesturing for me to attack.

So we sparred. He took it easy on me, but I found no openings. He pinned me over and over. Each time he did, he’d add something sexual to the move. He’d kiss my throat, or press his fingers into my crotch.

“It’s never going to happen, Steve.” I cried. I was frustrated and felt close to tears.

He put his hands on my shoulders. “Put your hands on my shoulders between mine.” He instructed. I did as I was told. “Now turn away from me, but pull me with you.” I followed his instructions and he allowed himself to be moved. “Now use your hip to throw me over.”

“I can’t. You’re too big.” I whined.

“Yes, you can. Start over and we’ll do it in one smooth motion.”

We started over. His hands on my shoulders, mine on his. I moved. He let me, but I managed to flip him, he ended up on the floor and I jumped on him straddling his waist.

“You’re pinned.” I laughed.

“I am.” He agreed.

He raised his hand and ran his fingers down the side of my face pushing a stray lock of hair behind my ear.

“No, Steve.” I grinned.

“Really?” He asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“You promised.”

He grabbed me under the arms and tossed me, so I somersaulted over his head. I rolled and started scrambling away from him, but he grabbed me by the ankle dragging me back towards him. I squealed and kicked my legs, clawing at the mat.

He crawled up over me pressing his body into mine. “Where do you think you’re going?” He growled.

I whimpered and he pressed his lips to my neck. His tongue swirled over my skin. I struggled again. He moved so he was on his knees. He grabbed both my hands and pulled them behind my back and held them, pushing me down in the middle of my back with one hand while the other slid down my spine.

He pushed my legs apart and he began to stroke me up and down my pussy through the fabric of my yoga pants. “This is what you want isn’t it, Daisy?” He growled.

“Yes. Please, Steve.” I pleaded.

He yanked my pants down and pushed his fingers into my cunt. “You need to learn this, Daisy. Do you understand that? I can’t always be here to fight for you. To protect Jamie.”

I wriggled under him. He was working his fingers roughly inside of me. “Can we talk about it after?” I panted.

He let my hands go and I pulled away from him rolling over and stripping off my clothes. He stood up, pulled his shirt off and dropped his pants, stalking towards me.

“Get on your knees.” He ordered.

I complied and he came towards me stroking his cock. I bit my lip, watching him. Soaking up his perfectly chiseled form.

“Open your mouth.” He growled.

I did and he ran the head of his cock over my lips. I poked the point of my tongue out tasting him. He pushed into my mouth and I rolled my tongue along his length. He grabbed my hair and yanked my head back, forcing my mouth open and my throat to straighten out. He began to thrust in and out of my mouth. Slowly, methodically. All the while he scowled down at me. I hummed deep in the back of my throat and he picked up speed. My eyes watered, and I started to struggle. He pulled back and I fell on my hands and knees panting.

“Is this still what you want?” Steve asked.

“Yes.” I panted.

He moved behind me and kicked my legs apart and knelt down between them. He slid one hand up my back and then pushed me so my face was pressed into the mat. I felt his cock press against me. He lined himself at the entrance to my cunt and slammed into me. I cried out and he pulled back and slammed into me again. I tried bracing myself on the mat, but he grabbed my hands and pulled them back behind me.

“Yes, Steve. Let go!” I cried.

He could never let go properly. Not with me. All the same, he picked up both speed and power with every thrust. I came apart under him. I clenched and moaned and writhed. An orgasm built within me, spreading out from my cunt like liquid fire and pooling in my core. It wouldn’t quite break and I started pleading with Steve. Begging him for release.

He pulled out and flipped me over, suddenly changing tactics completely. He cradled my head with one arm and slipped back into me. He rolled his fingers against my clit as he rocked his hips against me. Rolling them so his cock stretched me and hit all my pleasure centers.

His mouth met mine and we kissed hungrily. We battled for control, licking and nipping at each other. When he pulled away I chased him, not wanting the kiss to end. He looked down at me. His brow was furrowed but his eyes were soft.

“I want to watch you come, Daisy. You’re so beautiful when you do.” He purred.

It was like he’d just spoken some kind of command phrase. My orgasm broke and crashed through me. I clung to him as my back arched off the mat. He smiled and his face set. As the last quakes of my orgasm ebbed through me he came with a grunt.

He kissed me again and slipped out of me. Straight away moving to get redressed.

“Will you please take this more seriously from now on?” He asked, throwing me my underwear.

“I’ll try. I just … I don’t know if I’ll ever be good enough.”

“I’m just terrified of losing you, Daisy. Everyone I’ve ever loved I’ve lost. I keep thinking that that’s how it’s supposed to be. That I’m supposed to be alone.”

I crawled up behind him and rested my head on his back. “You should see someone, Steve. I’m not planning on going anywhere. But this isn’t going to save me if it’s my time. I’ll listen to your fears as much as you need me too, but I’m still learning how to … person? I can’t even think of a way to say that properly. I don’t know what people do when they aren’t weapons.”

He sighed. “You’re doing fine. Thank you for listening.”

“Always, Steve.”

// NEXT

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #steve rogers x oc #bucky barnes x oc #captain america #the winter soldier #captain america fanfic #the winter soldier fanfic #bucky barnes x steve rogers x oc #bucky barnes x steve rogers #stucky #stucky x oc #fanfic #fanfiction #angst #smut #finding home

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chaniters · 5 years

Text

UPSTAGED

I’ve been promising to write this series for so darn long... Finally got an idea on how to start it. Hope you enjoy it! (Sentai themed. This is just the first part, introducing the setting!)

--------------------------------------------

"You'll never get what you want, you maniac!"

"Now now, Governor... let us keep calm. My terms have been most generous."

"We can't negotiate with terrorists! You know that!"

"I do. But we both know what will happen if I use my disintegration touch on the West Coast's entire gold reserves"

"Ha! The Rangers will stop you!"

"I doubt that, considering I locked them down myself in one of the vaults." You let out a loud cackle.

You got him. You can hurt the system right where it hurts. Money. If the reserves are out, west-coast dollars will lose all value, destabilizing its flourishing economy, the only reason it's status as a free economic zone was never revoked. And a place like the farm cannot operate in the main country. They have real laws there. Still, it isn't a sure bet. A million things could go wrong if you actually destroy the economy. Too unpredictable. But you know they'll have to relent.

Unpredictable is something the politicians at play hate just as much as you do.

"W... Damnit! Damn you freak...! You wouldn't dare do it! Do you know how much chaos that would cause?"

"Of course I do Governor. And there are many other banks for me to visit after this one, you know... unless you want to tell the world you can't your valuables safe?"

"Go to hell!" he yells exasperated. "I know you won't do it! There's nothing for you to win in this! Why don't you just steal some of the gold?" He doesn't get it. He can't understand that you don't care about money at all.

"You test my patience governor. Perhaps a little demonstration is in orde..." You are interrupted by a loud siren noise from the Governor's office. "What is that?"

"It's the citywide alarm system... what's going on? Are we at war?" the Governor turns to one of his aides, who fumbles a remote control to turn on the TV.

You activate a console on your helm to watch as well. Is he trying to gain time? Maybe you should make a third of the gold reserve evaporate... that ought to make him reconsider.

The Governor's TV settles on the main news channel, as do you.

Mia Ochoa is in Los Diablos according to the labels, reporting from under a table, as pieces of ceiling fall all over. She appears to be at a bar. What the hell is going on and how did you not catch up on it sooner?

"... there is a very unstable situation on the ground, that is unfolding very quickly. The floating disc descended from high altitude at great speed and emitted a blue ray over the fields, which released a swarm of humanoid creatures armed with energy weapons. They are firing indiscriminately on civilians!"

"Quickly! Call all of Los Diablos police stations! Contact Los Diablo's Mayor! Send in the National Guard!" The Governor seems to be going into overdrive mode as his aids run back and forth.

Mia goes on with her reporting.

"I will try to get some images for our viewers! I remind you, we are risking our lives doing this so we might not be able to get the best takes. Also, we might see graphic violence!"

Fuck. Mia Ochoa does not back down, you have to give her that.

The film crew creeps to the bar's door, and soon enough, you can see the armed soldiers. They seem to be wearing similar outfits and move in a robotic fashion. Drones? Worse of all, there is a giant spinning metal disc floating above them. They start firing again and the Mia Ochoa and her camera crew go back inside.

You mute the governor's and the news channels open a third one to Mortum's lab.

"Doctor, are you seeing this?"

"Afraid so Retribution."

"Is this for real?"

"I think so. Never seen anything like this."

"Thank you. I'll get back to you later...I'll be at the lab soon" You close Mortum's and Mia Ochoa's channels and focus on the Governor again.

"Afraid I'm going to have to leave you Retribution," he says.

"WHAT?" you ask outraged.

"I've got a bit of a situation on my hands, can't you see?"

"But the gold reserves..."

"Are irrelevant if I lose an entire city to an alien invasion. All I can say is please don't do it? Thank you"

"..." awkward silence as you have no idea what to even say after that.

"Anyways, I really have to go so..."

"WAIT!" You plead, the roles reversed.

"What for?"

"There might be a win-win situation here... you know what I want. And you have a bit of a situation in your hands. What If I helped deal with it...?"

"You mean work for us? Fight off those things"

"Yes," you say finally.

"I could consider it...yes... You know what if all you want me to do is close that camp of horrors from the feds, I can do it. I'll fucking evict them from the entire West Coast if you want. But I want results!”

“Oh, I’ll get you results! I’ll exterminate those things so fast they won’t know what hit them!” you say energetically

“Also, I want you to release the rangers. We need all hands on deck"

"...fine" you grumble with a complete loss of your previous enthusiasm.

A wave of cold anger flows through your body as you walk towards the smaller vault. You've never done any of this out of revenge or seeking fame, but having someone steal your thunder like this when the governor was right at the palm of your hand..., even if it's an alien... it just makes your blood boil. Whoever's responsible is going down. Big time.

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

"HARDER!" Steel commanded as Herald flung him at high speed against the vault's reinforced gate at great speed. Ortega and Argent joined with a combined strike, but the gate remained impervious.

"Fuck! It's no use!" Charge cursed outraged. Argent continued slashing at the metal, only creating superficial marks. Herald looked defeated, and Steel just studied the gate with his sensors, trying to find a weakness. There was none.

"You're right" he let on sitting on a pile of gold bars. "He got us good this time"

"FUUUUCK!" Charge went on kicking a few bars against the wall. Argent just kept slashing.

"That's not helping" Herald muttered while trying to get signal with his cellphone.

"At least I'm doing something!" Argent replied breathing heavily. "You'll never get signal! We're in a sealed VAULT!"

"The kid's right" Steel spoke tiredly. "Even if we can’t get signal we have to get someone to open it from the outside. It's not going to magically open just because you..."

And then the gate did just that, unsealing itself.

The Rangers gathered together, shocked to see Retribution on the other side.

"What gives? Lost something here?" Steel asked sarcastically walking over the gate ready to fight. The other rangers assume fighting stances behind him.

"Only my time." His terrifying voice lacked the characteristical aggressiveness this time. "Come out already, we've got a lot of work to do," he said motioning them out.

Steel looked puzzled but then advanced striking a warrior's pose. "I don't know what game you're playing or what you're planning, but it will never succeed! And we'll never EVER work with you!"

"Well tough luck hunk because you're totally going to be seeing a lot more of me! Oh, and by the way, you better hurry to Memorial Park unless you want to be late for your first alien invasion!" He said, before pressing a palm to the bank's wall which instantly dissolved, creating a circular hole for him to escape with his jump jets.

"The fuck?" Steel was astonished

"Did she just call you hunk?" Charge asked with a wide grin.

"What do you mean she? Retribution's clearly a guy!" Steel replied.

"Oh wow... I didn't think you were into...him"

"Wha... No, I mean... I never meant it that way..."

"Come on... first I learn you're gay, now you're really wanting that one to be a guy... I can see where this all leads Chen!"

"THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT YOU IDIOT!"

"Yeah right," Ortega was cracking in laughter by now.

"Hey I've got phone signal finally," Herald says. "The Mayor's calling us! And the Governor too! We've got to go to Memorial Park right now!"

"Let's go, Herald... They'll catch up when they grow up" Argent said hurrying to the Ranger's helicopter dragging floating Herald by his arm.

Steel and Ortega soon followed.

____________________________

My fanfics: https://chaniters.tumblr.com/post/181692759294/my-fanfiction-for-fallen-hero

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fan fiction using characters and the setting of the Fallen Hero: Rebirth and upcoming Fallen Hero: Retribution games written by Malin Riden. I do not claim ownership of any characters from the Fallen Hero wold. These stories are a work of my imagination, and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon. These works are intended for entertainment outside the official storyline owned by the author. I am not profiting financially from the creation of these stories, and thank the author for her wonderful game/s, without which these works would not exist.

#fallen hero: rebirth #Fanfic #Sentai

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freechoicedreamer · 4 years

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Body and Soul (Foreword)

AO3

Opening Theme

"Who knows if to live is to be dead, and to be dead, to live? And we really, it may be, are dead. In fact I once heard sages say that we are now dead, and the body is our tomb…"

(Plato)

Upon a comment left by a reader of the other fanfic I wrote, The Sweet Suite, where she asked about the possibility of new storylines deriving from the setting established by it, and after giving it a lot of thought, I began to glimpse new storylines and scenarios that I hadn't considered before.

Further elaborating on those initial ideas, I started to visualize a structure that would correspond to a complete season of Once Upon a Time. The basic assumption was that OUAT did not end after its seventh season. The new scenario would comprise a complete new season divided in two parts. The first part of this hypothetical eighth season, designed to be OUAT's final season, would be 'The Sweet Suite'. The second, following straightforward without any significant time jump, would be 'Body and Soul'.

The main references for developing this new story are pictured bellow. A deeper understanding of the illustration's context requires the reading of The Sweet Suite but a brief description of its three main axes is sufficient to configure the scenario for Body and Soul:

1st axis. The Charmings: David-Snow and Neal with a flying angel at the top of their heads (their connection with their Wish-counterparts, in Heaven); the Swan-Joneses: Killian-Emma and Hope; the Sweet-Joneses: Wish Killian-Wish Emma with an illuminated heart in between them (the source of new lives), and Missy-Luna (their enchanted pets); the 'Bunny-Archer' ladies: Alice-Robyn; and the 2 Jolly Rogers.

2nd axis. The OUAT book core: besides Wish Henry and Henry (respectively, king of the New Enchanted Forest and the new Author - again) with their respective partners Violet and Cinderella, and Lucy, we see Aladdin-Jasmine on a magic carpet ride, and an allegorical representation of all United Realms and its capital, Storybrooke.

3rd axis. In the foreground, the Three-Reginas: the Good Queen-Robin Hood (in her heart, where his soul is preserved); Split Regina-Wish Robin and Coralline (their adoptive daughter); and Wish Regina and Roland (who developed a mother-son bond). We also see the LWM-UR magic link: Zelena-Chad, as representative, but not the only ones, of the connection between the Land Without Magic and the United Realms. Above, still in this axis, the Magic-Mystery link: Gideon and the souls of Rumple-Belle and Wish Rump-Wish Belle surrounded by books about incantations, potions, prophecies, legends and ancient myths.

Around the axes. Flying birds and fairies (in non-wish & wish pairs), stars and icons complete the set of elements that make up OUAT's eighth season. Below, the Ocean, home to mythical beings, reigns in its mysteries - life returning to the unknown.

Thematically, the 2 Killians and 2 Emmas are at the narrative center not only to set up and unfold their own storylines but also to drive other arcs designed for the main characters (seen in the 3 axes) and for guest stars coming from the multiple realms. You’ve got to remember that as the second and last part of a hypothetical Final Season, Body and Soul is expected to be the closure of a series with an ensemble cast. Therefore the structure of each chapter resembles a rotating spotlight illuminating 6 arcs and many characters. The focus always goes back to the 2 Killians and 2 Emmas, though.

Structurally, the narrative is divided into 14 chapters (plus this foreword). While this is not a musical fanfic as The Sweet Suite, where the songs were always an intrinsic part of the narrative, here it may or may not happen. Where it does not happen: each chapter is titled in alignment with a song, an opening theme to create the atmosphere for the narrative to unfold - in this case a relatively close match between the storyline and the lyrics may occur but not necessarily. That means the 'read only' motto won't compromise the story fruition but listening to the songs will help to set up the chapter mood. Where it does happen: eventually, you will find a song link placed in the middle or at the end of a chapter, and in these cases the song is completely pertinent to the narrative, as it happened in The Sweet Suite (although, as it happened there, for those unwilling to listen to the songs it's possible to skip them with a relatively low continuity loss). As before, the song streams may be accessed by external or embedded links, both options appear close to each other.

The tone of Body and Soul, an autumn/wintertime drama, is more sober than that of The Sweet Suite, a 'sweet' spring/summertime romance. The jazzy atmosphere, marked by a more introspective mood, allows the brushstrokes to carry heavier colors on existential quests such as the afterlife and the permanence versus impermanence of life and death, among others. Even so, fundamentally, as this is supposed to be a hypothetical Once Upon a Time final season, rest assured that love and hope will always prevail through a light dreamy-fantasy narrative.

One of my constant concerns in both stories was to build a plot that was both rich in the nuances typical of a rich plot, but mainly a springboard for character development. I am a fervent advocate - and this is one of my biggest complaints about the 7 seasons of Once Upon a Time - that the plot should serve the characters and not the other way around. Modestly, mainly because I wrote with time restrictions imposed by my personal and professional commitments, and I did that in a foreign language - which considerably reduced my 'arsenal' of vocabulary and style figures, The Final Season is my proposal to fix this problem.

With The Sweet Suite and Body and Soul I feel that the challenge I'd set to myself - to write a novel-length multimedia fanfic - has been met. I did my best to review the whole text thoroughly but I apologize for eventual typo/grammar/vocabulary/continuity errors that escaped in this non beta-ed novel (please remember that English is not my native language). Besides, the task I'd given to myself - to develop an original post-canon narrative for a canon-compliant story - has been fulfilled.

The creative process of this story reminds me the feeling of creating a mandala. When I started to think of Body and Soul, I felt a strong need to see its center and to construct a circular path to it surrounding, in a spiral way towards the center, every possible storyline angle it could encompass as well as every character and scenario I could visualize. I couldn’t pretend I was not ‘seeing’ them. Initially, that was really hard because I felt myself imprisoned by so many classic fairy tales and mythologies that it was not easy neither simple to envision any embracing path towards the most inner point which, by its turn, I could not find either. However, as I started to write, original plots and arcs started to appear naturally and to be unfolded, by their own volition, towards a 'Mother Inside' center (thematically addressed, albeit rather implicitly). Suddenly, I began to free myself from the obligation of being completely loyal to classic myths and tales and/or being limited by them – I started to find the tone of originality that I sought.

In a deep sense, I could then understand Adam and Eddy in another level and kind of felt more sympathetic with them because I could feel in my own skin a sample of the freedom degree that their formula gave to them. By twisting and mixing well known characters and their original stories, they could fly away in any direction. Even so, an essential difference between their creative work and mine, here, is that they were restricted by much more practical factors, from budget constraints to actors’ unavailability (and seemingly not bothering that much in generating narrative/character’s development inconsistencies in the process). Therefore, I ended up almost feeling a bit sorry for them - but not so much, and I also know that they were well paid for doing their job. In my turn, I also found a dose of impairment: my available time to write being the most important, but I managed it given that I was really motivated to write. So, about motivation, what really moves me is the pleasure in creating – it’s so fun – and in sharing the fun, hoping that the resultant of this effort will be appreciated by others.

For many years I’ve read and enjoyed so many great CS stories that a feeling of gratitude inspired me to dedicate this series, The Final Season, to their talented and creative authors. The Final Season series is a gift to all CS writers that have been able to shine without switching off anyone's light. This is my ‘thank you’ to all of them!

That said, let’s go back to Body and Soul and get into the mood of what is to come. I propose a short break to relax and let a soothing music massage our imagination, thus preparing us to re-enter the Once Upon a Time world that has already been introduced in Part One of the Final Season. So, please, inhale and exhale deeply, calming down while listening to the song/mantra in the link below (by chanting this mantra, you become surrounded by a field of white light of protection), breathing slowly to free your minds, to open your senses and… bon voyage!

I hope you will enjoy the ride and thank you in advance if you decide to leave a constructive feedback.

Have fun, guys, take care…

Light, Peace and Love!

In Gurmukhi:

"Aad Guray Nameh Jugaad Guray Nameh Sat Guray Nameh Siri Guru Dayvay Nameh"

Translation:

"I bow to the Primal Wisdom. I bow to the Wisdom through the Ages. I bow to the True Wisdom. I bow to the great, unseen Wisdom"

#body and soul #Double CS fic #Foreword

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javandkyo · 7 years

Text

Secret Santa

Also for @askladarmin haha you thought the comic was it? No. I also wrote you three lil’ fanfics. There’s some starco and tomco. I hope you like these too!!!

Once Upon a December

“Come on.”

“No.”

“COME ON, MARCO.”

“I AM NOT ABOUT TO RISK MY LIFE LIKE THIS.”

Star and Marco were at an ice skating rink on this cold December evening. They decided to pay Earth a visit, and while they were there Star noticed a poster for an outdoor ice rink in a city not too far from Echo Creek. Neither of them have ever skated but Marco didn’t ever want to. When he was younger he saw someone get their fingers broken by someone who accidentally skated over them and swore to himself to never skate and risk getting his fingers broken, but now here was Star telling him to face his fear.

“YOU’RE GONNA BE FINE. Just make sure that if you fall you make a fist like this!” she made a fist, “That way no one can chop off your fingers!”

“But what if I don’t make the fist in time?! AND I LOSE MY HAND FOREVER?!?!?”

“Dude, you’re broken your hand before in karate. I don’t think fingers would be any different.”

“THAT WAS DIFFERENT! Ohh I can still remember the sound…” Although he was young at the time, Marco still remembers the sound of that poor skater’s fingers breaking. Sometimes at night he can hear the cracking sound echo in the depths of his memories.

“UGH. If I get you some gloves will you get on the ice with me?”

“F-fine. If it’ll get you to stop bugging me about it.” Star came back later with some thicc gloves.

“There! Now will you join me?”

“O-ok.” he said reluctantly.

The ice was a lot more slippery than either of them could have imagined.

“M-marco I don’t think this was such a good idea.” said Star.

“OH NO, NO, NO. You got me into this, so now we finish thiIIII---!” Marco crashed into Star and they both fell down.

“It’s easier if you hold hands with someone!” shouted someone outside the rink.

“You wanna try it?” asked Star.

“Yeah. Anything to save my fingers.” .

They held hands. Very tightly. After a few minutes, Star got the hang of walking. Marco was barely moving at all. He was just letting Star pull him forward. Star went faster and faster as they progressed.

“Hey, could you maybe slow down?” asked the frightened Diaz.

“I don’t know. Could you maybe MOVE YOUR FEET?” she noticed he wasn’t moving. She saw through his lies. She can see through your lies too, askladarmin.

“Look, maybe if I let go--”

“DON’T YOU DARE LET ME GO!”

“I’m sorry-it’s for your own good.” Star pried his hand of hers and pushed him away. Marco was very scared and felt his life flashing before his eyes. This is it. This is where it ends, he thought. Luckily, it didn’t end here.

“Just try to to stand.” said Star. After a few minutes he was able to stand still without falling.

“There you go! Now that wasn’t so hard was it?”

Marco glared back in response.

“Now what do I do?” he asked bitterly.

“Now march. Like this!” and so he marched. He was getting the hang of it.

“And now, SKATE!” she glided all the way to the other side of rink. She was using magic, of course, to propel herself.

“WHAT?! You know what, I’m just gonna get off. This is too much.”

“NO YOU AREN’T!!!!!” Star ran and jumped on Marco, causing them both to fall.

“What are you doing?!” he asked

“HELPING YOU ACHIEVE YOUR DREAMS. GET UP.”

With a lot of trouble, he managed to stand up again.

“Skate slide help him glide!” She did a spell that added tiny rockets to his skates and he went zoomed forward until he crashed into the wall on the other side.

W-whyy..?” he asked himself weakly.

“OH MY GOD I’M SO SORRY!!!” Star exclaimed.

“Can I please, just LEAVE?” she undid the spell.

“Lets just hold hands again.”she suggested.

“What? But I don--”

“I’m serious. Come on. We’ll go slow. Just hold my hand and let yourself glide.” he was too tired argue. He managed enough strength to hold on tight to her.

He did what she said and just let himself glide with her, taking occasional steps. The sun had set and the stars were appearing. The lights were also turning on. At first they glowed a soft ocean blue that shined throughout the rink and reflected off the ice. The music also slowed down. They didn’t talk but they did get a little closer, while gently holding each other’s hand. Marco wasn’t as scared of falling anymore. It was becoming a sort of dream. He started to actually skate now. The lights changed color constantly. From pure white to a hazy purple and into a blood moon ball red. When it turned purple again, the song changed. This time it was Once Upon a December. Now it really felt like a dream. They both dared to glide on only one leg. It was wobbly but it felt right. Dancing bears, painted wings. Things I almost remember. And a song, someone sings once upon a December. Star tried to skate backwards while grabbing both of Marco’s hands. They both moved together, changing feet to the beat of the song. Figures dancing gracefully, across my memory. She used her magic to make them spin a little. Their eyes were locked and both of them felt so calm. Someone holds me safe and warm, horses prance through the silver storm. They went on for the rest of the song. When it was over, they put their arms around each other as they kept skating. There weren’t many people left inside the rink. Most of them left when Star used her magic. Just as they were both about to leave Star noticed something on Marco’s hoodie. She thought it was dandruff at first but noticed that it was actually snow. They both looked up at it. They go out of the rink and climbed onto the nearest roof. They sat down together, sharing a giant fuzzy blanket and leaned on each other as they watched the snow fall, hypnotized by the sight of it slowly piling up, listening to the ever so faint thump, thump. After an hour of watching the snow they both fell asleep on that roof, cuddling under the warm blanket. The snow continued to slowly blanket the ground.

“Ugghhh. What time is it?” Marco woke up first. He was also first to fall asleep. He turned and saw that Star was still asleep. He poked the heart on her cheek.

“Boop.”

“AH NAW WE’RE LATE FOR SCHOOL!” Star exclaimed, before realizing where she was or what day it was (Saturday).

“Good morning to you too. Why did you bring this blanket in the first place?” he pointed towards the warm blankie on them.

“What? Oh. I ate a fortune cookie yesterday and it said to always be prepared.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in fortune cookies anymore.”

“I don’t. But I had a feeling this one meant something. And what do you know! Here we are.”

“Let’s head back home.”

“Ok. Hey, aren’t you glad you came after all? Huh? Huh? You know you liked it.”

“Ehhh it was ok but I wouldn’t do it again.”

“Aww..”

“But, I guess it wouldn’t be so bad to come again. W-with you, I mean.”

“Aww, Marcooo…” there were tears of joy in her eyes. Marco looked away. But let’s be honest we all know he’s blushing a little. Our sweet Marco is too good for this world. Too pure.

That one was inspired by an outdoor skating rink by my house. Now, here’s another one!

Stump Day Fight

Ah, Stump day. A wonderful day to remember to keep the stump in your heart and let it lead the way. StarFan13, Star, Janna, Tom, Marco, Kelly, and Ponyhead were outside planning on having a snowball fight.

¨Alright! Let's split into teams! Janna you're with me!¨ said Star

¨Sweet.¨ said Janna.

¨Hey, why didn't you pick me?¨

¨I’m sorry Marco, but Janna´s probably better at this.¨

For the next few minutes they decided on teams. In the end the teams were Marco, Kelly, Ponyhead and Star, Janna, StarFan13. Tom didn´t want to play.

¨The game will start in three minutes everyone!¨ said Star.

¨Ok so you all know the rules you just attack each other with thE COOKIES I FORGOT TO MAKE STUMP DAY COOKIES! UH YOU ALL PLAY WITHOUT ME. TOM, YOU´RE ON MY TEAM.

¨Wait--what? But I don't want to-¨ said Tom to no avail.

¨So, is everyone ready TO PLAY?¨ yelled Ponyhead.

¨I think I´ll pass.¨ answered Tom.

¨What's the big deal? It's just a game.¨ said Marco.

¨Look, I just don't like snow, ok?¨ said Tom.

¨What, are scared of snow or something?¨

¨Boi don´t do it. I like drama but don´t do it.¨ said Pony. Marco didn't listen to reason. He was still salty about the whole Naysaya curse. And now, it was time for VENGEANCE.

¨What-why would I be scared of snow? I just don't want to play.¨ Tom wasn't lying. He really just wasn't a fan of snow. He didn't see what was so special about it.

¨It seems to me like you´re scared.¨ Marco knew this was sort of a petty argument, but he was afraid that this would be his only chance to get back at him.

¨You know what? I don't have time to deal with your childishne---!¨ Marco threw a snowball right at Tom's beautiful face. Although he's been improving on his anger issues, who wouldn't be mad at a snowball in the face.

¨OOOOHHHHH I kind of want to see this unfold now.¨ said Pony.

¨Ok, you want to fight? FINE.¨

Oh, foolish Marco. Only a few months have passed and he already forgot that Tom had a very strong arm, as he proved to him in ping-pong. He could throw a snowball with the same strength of a paintball gun.

Tom also had good aim and threw many painfull snowballs at Marco.

¨ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?¨ Tom asked. Marco hid behind a tree to prepare a snowball and tried to throw it at him.

¨NOW I AM HAHah..huh?¨ Tom wasn't there. Where was he? On the top of a tree, that’s where.

¨GOT YOU NOW, BITCH!¨ Tom jumped off the tree and towards him. Marco didn't even have time to process what was happening before Tom was on top of him.

¨OW! GET OFF ME!¨

¨ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?¨ Tom actually was happy despite not liking snowball fights. He was even laughing. Partially because of the fun and partially because he caught Marco.

Marco didn't respond. He just stared back at Tom's red eyes. He also just noticed that he had ear piercings. Tom was also at a loss for words now, and couldn't help but admire his cute little birthmark. What he didn't notice was Marco gathering snow into his right hand and throwing it back at Tom’s face.

¨Got you.¨ he said softly.

¨Seriously? I´m done. Bye. Thanks for the good fight. Hope the stump gets you tonight.¨ Tom headed back towards the castle, but not before Janna said something.

¨Well if you ever cheat on Star at least I know who it´ll be with.¨ Janna said with a smirk. Dang Janna why you so smooth...

¨No. Don't even think about it.¨ he responded.

Janna didn’t, but Tom sure thought about it. He tried to convince himself that the idea of being with Marco was a silly one, but we all know they would make an adorable couple.

There was some fluff for you! Here’s a more serious one. This one takes place in the episode Deep Dive

Lost Again

Ohhh… what happened?

“Look.” said Janna, pointing towards the map of the dimensions.

“Wait, where is that on the map?” oh no oh no where did she go?!

“I don’t know, she’s off the map.” Janna was getting nervous too.

Star started to head towards a weird portal. Oh no.

“Star? No, no, no, no, no. DON’T GO IN THERE!!!!!”

AAAHHHH the screen blacked out! Now what do I do?!?

“I’M GOING IN!” I ripped a portal open and jumped in, but I can’t find her. Of course I can’t go! I don’t know where the heck she is!

“What happened where is she?”

“I can’t get to her with the scissors if I don’t know where she is.”

Oh no no no no no noooooooooOOOOO! Now what?! WHAT IF SHE GETS LOST IN THAT PORTAL?! What if there’s some bad guys there?! What if I never see her again? I failed her, didn’t I?!. I failed as her squire. My only job is to help and protect her and I screwed up. Now she’s lost in who knows where and I have no way to find her. I failed her as a friend. Again.

This isn’t the first time I’ve lost her, is it? First it was Merberty when she flew away with Oscar, then again when she ran away from the cops. Then again when she left earth without a warning just before summer break. Then again when Ludo took her away to ask for help with his wand. And again when Toffee trapped her inside the wand. Then again, and again, and again. And what did I do? Nothing. All I ever do is worry. All those times that I’ve lost her I was never the one to bring her back. She always did it by herself. I couldn’t help as a friend and now I can’t even help as a squire. UGH WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME? No. I won’t just stand by while she’s off somewhere in trouble! Not again. I need to do something. Something…

“Hey what if we use Glossaryck?” asked Janna. Ugh he’s useless. Which he proved to her by yelling globgor.

“You’re a disgrace to magic.” Janna said.

Magic. Wait--magic... If Ludo could use magic.. Then I should be able to.. I walked over to her wand. It’s almost like I’m looking at her instead of a wand. I picked it up.

“OHHH YOU’RE GONNA DIE.”

I don’t care. I don’t care if the room explodes or if I turn to stone. Right now, this is my only option. I’m not just gonna stand by this time. I’m gonna do something. I’m gonna bring her back. I won’t leave her alone. We’ll be together again like the moon and stars at night. I’m gonna help you this time Star.

I take a deep breath before I dive into whatever might happen.

Here I go.

AAAHHH These were fun to write! I’m not much of a writer either but I hope these make you happy. Tell me what you think!!!

#svtfoess2017 #stargiftexchange2017 #starco #tomco #star vs the forces of evil #fanfic #hope these are good enough

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wonderfulchaos69-blog · 8 years

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Fanfic Recs

I’ve been meaning to make one of these for a long, long while and so here it is! Amazing fics that I’ve read and enjoyed a lot =) I hope you’ll find something that you might enjoy, too, along the way. And feel free to share any fics you’ve read/written, I’d be more than happy to add to the list!

Artemis Fowl:

Why One Must Not Attempt to Analyze A Child Genius, fiercejinx - Complete, G. "Artemis Fowl had retired half a dozen counselors from St. Barleby's already this year." Here's how. Six chapters, one for each psychologist losin' it.

Blue Exorcist:

To Be Good, Kizmet - Complete, T. Yukio had always been the good twin, intelligent, studious, disciplined and, most importantly, not a demon. It was obvious that he only wanted what was best for Rin. Yukio's intentions were one thing Rin would never question, no matter what. After Father Fujimoto's death Yukio went quietly insane. No one noticed.

Danganronpa:

A Farewell to All Futures, Yukari - Complete, Not Rated, Oneshot. One of them in theory belonged to the chosen ones, but still wondered if his life had any meaning.

The other one had a chance to become the chosen one, but still wondered if his decision was right. Basically the first, very brief meeting of Komaeda and Hinata before the world went completely insane, because we probably won't get to see it in the anime.

Bad Poetry of a Lopsided Heart, IcicleWieldingManaic - WIP, T. Komaeda likes to write letters that he never sends. However, one time Hinata accidentally receives one addressed to himself. He also feels a responsibility to watch over Komaeda after the events of the first trial. You know, just so nobody else gets killed.It's a good thing Hinata doesn't know who the letter's from, huh? Komaeda/Hinata, slow burn.

just looking at you i enjoy myself, suitablyskippy - Complete, Mature. “Hm?” says Komaeda, and looks down at the grip he’s still got, cold and clammy and squeezed uncomfortably tight. “Oh – that! Of course! You know, sometimes, Hinata-kun – sometimes I forget, when I’m touching you! Because it feels so natural. Like you and I are one, almost! Like we were always meant to be this close – do you know what I mean? Do you feel it?”

“You’re still holding my wrist,” says Hinata.

Komaeda lets him go, and then he touches his elbow, gently, as though in consolation. “With my luck the way it is,” he says, “no one’s gonna be able to kill me unless I let them.”

(Someone's got to die next, and Komaeda would really, really like it to be him!)

Long Road to North, Urponator - WIP, T. There’s nothing as hopeless as a life being a regular salesman at a regular office. And after waiting for years for his life to change, he can’t contain his excitement as he finds himself threatened by a knife, held by a brown-haired stranger on the run. Komaeda/Hinata, slow burn, AU.

Death Note:

A Forgotten Encounter, Alex Prosper - Complete, T. Light is faced with his first murder case at age nine after meeting a strange, hooded teenager in Harajuku. Dupin becomes the one special thing in his childhood, long forgotten. This is L and Light's true first meeting, but they will never know it.

Genius is a Curse, Bloodshot Eyes - WIP, T. If Light had never touched the Death Note, would he ever have found an escape from the depression and boredom that plagued him? Would he have had a future at all? Undertones of Light/L, dark themes.

Leave the Light On, Ne Quittez Pas - Complete, T. Light had dealt with admirers before, but nothing like this. Between an unknown stalker and a mass-murderer with a God complex, it's unlikely that Light will ever sleep again... unless an insomniac detective can help him put a stop to both. Light/L, dark themes.

Detective Conan:

It's Raining Men, Hallelujah, Asuka Kureru - Complete, Oneshot, T. Conan already has some kind of corpse magnet power, but when Heiji is in his orbit the corpses actively come to them. From above. Witness.

D. Grayman:

Fair Play, liketolaugh - WIP, T. Cross hated his master. Really. Allen fucking Walker was the most infuriatingly mysterious human being on the planet - but even Cross couldn't say Allen had done a bad job looking after him. Oneshot series.

vertigo, hurryup - WIP, Mature. Los Angeles, 1951. Allen Walker, a private eye of cult celebrity status, has been running from his past for a long time. Howard Link, an LAPD cop rising quickly through the ranks, finds himself caught between that which is lawful and that which is right.

As Sunset Boulevard crackles with caged heat, the thread of their investigations meet. With them, corruption, obsession, and celebrity meet in a game of chess that holds the entire city as its hostage.

The descent into hell is easy. All it takes is a little push.

Durarara:

If We Ever Meet Again, Shitsuren69 - Complete, T. AU. Mikado thought that the biggest event in his life was when the love of his life ran off with his best friend. This was, of course, before Celty invited him to Ikebukuro. Eventual Shizuo/Mikado. Prequel to Operator.

Comments: I just really love the way this one was written. From Mikado getting along with Walker and Erika to the falling out in the beginning with Kida and Anri. It makes when they meet again all the more interesting! And there's this one scene that will always stay in my mind - Mikado jumping off the roof, fully expecting Shizuo to catch him. I know, I know, what is the likelihood of something like that happening in real life, right? Still, I got a kick out of reading Izaya's reactions in this story. In addition, this story gives me the same vibe as the series - it's about different forms of love.

Thirty-Two Steps, Nanimonaimono - Complete, Oneshot, T. He guesses it's time to make Anri fall in love with Mikado like she should've from the start. As he opened his mouth, Masaomi fought the ridiculous, overpowering urge to stop and shout that he's been in love too long for this. Kida/Mikado.

Final Fantasy 7:

Beloved, Sinnatious - Complete, Mature. It all starts when Cloud tries to leave during the middle of a Loveless performance. Genesis/Cloud. Tifa/Cloud.

Dishonorable Discharge, icynovas - Complete, T. Seeking a new career, infantryman Cloud Strife attempts to get fired from ShinRa.

Off the Line, esama - WIP, T. In which Cloud gets a Virtual Reality Dream Console – ShinRa's latest in virtual reality technology. Aaand everything pretty much goes downhill from there. Vincent/Cloud.

The Fifth Act, Sinnatious - Complete, T. Cloud has an accident with a Time materia. There are people to save, and for that, some people need to die.

Comments: This is a pretty well-known story in the FFVII fandom, and let me tell ya, it’s worth every second of the read. Even if you haven’t played the game, this sort of storytelling will drag you in and keep your attention. You’ll be left wanting more!

My Hero Academia:

but you gotta get up at least once more, simkjrs - WIP, T. Izuku’s never run into this problem before with anyone else, but it’s still not much of a problem. “Oh, that’s alright,” he says. “I don’t have a Quirk.”

Tsukauchi stares incredulously at him, and then looks at the iron bar that Izuku is currently straightening with his hands.

Midoriya Izuku does not let his lack of a Quirk prevent him from being strong.Also known as that one AU where Izuku follows the ridiculous training regimen of Saitama from One Punch Man and becomes stronger than anyone ever imagined he could be.

Persona 4:

Dare Disturb the Universe, jackdawq - Complete, T, Oneshot. A creeping, nagging sense of repetition: rewind, replay. Yosuke/Souji, Naoto/Kanji.

Days Without Nights, Angevon - Complete, T. Years after the events of Persona 4, Yosuke Hanamura is married. Then his wife leaves him. Yosuke/Souji, slow burn.

First Impressions (Seventeen Variations), jackdawq - Complete, T, Oneshot. It sucks to be the new transfer kid. Right?

Reversing Arcana, Sinnatious - Complete, T. P3, P4. Six months after Souji leaves Inaba, he wakes up to his house on fire. The Investigation Team are the only ones who know he survived. But that's only the beginning of their troubles.

Ten Steps, chisotahn - Complete, T. Written for a prompt over at badbadbathhouse. "Souji never told anyone about being able to enter the TV. So, even though Chie and onward somehow ended up with Souji, Yosuke never wound up knowing about the shadow world. For months on end, Souji has been keeping his otherworldly adventures a secret from his predictably ignorant (yet suspicious) boy [best] friend (though he's still your Magician).

Preferably later in the game, Yosuke appears in a Junes-exclusive interview (bonus if the media was filming Junes without permission), and thus, dungeon time ensues." Only... well, slightly modified. ;) You'll see! Yosuke/Souji.

Psycho Pass:

Unconventional Normality, scorchedtrees - Complete, G. AU: In which Akane joins Division Four to work alongside Inspector Makishima.

Servamp:

Fragile Bonds, Atherin Ashura - WIP, T. A silent walk home from school can change the outcome of so many paths. Fears arise, secrets that are closely guarded come to light and partnerships can crumble. But if one can survive through it, a brighter, more certain, tomorrow awaits. Kuro + Mahiru, sloth pair friendship.

Honest is Your Only Policy, faecakes - WIP, Explicit. Being Ex-Lovers can be complicated, especially when your ex happens to be Tsurugi. Mikuni/Tsurugi.

Unmasked, stirlingphoenix - Complete, Explicit, Oneshot. "The smile falls from Mikuni’s lips and he dons a more pensive expression before reaching forward and taking a piece of the paper bag between his fingers.

'I want this gone,' he says casually, like it’s only a suggestion, and not the demand Jeje knows it is. Once again, he feels as if he’s being pinned down by Mikuni’s gaze, and he can hardly think." Jeje/Mikuni.

The World Ends With You:

Blindsided, R. Seldon - Complete, Oneshot, G. Neku has something to say that Joshua does not particularly want to hear. One-shot. Warnings: spoilers; mild, kinda-sorta one-sided Joshua/Neku. Or just Josh being, um, obsessive. Spoilers for endgame.

Dust, DarkRulerDominica - Complete, M. After surviving three weeks of the Reapers' Game, Neku demands that Joshua return him to the world of the living; Joshua agrees, but there's a catch to the deal…. Dark themes.

Comments: As a thriller/horror story, this one is damn good. It answers one of the glaring questions from the game: what happens to the bodies of those who are playing the game?

Perfect, Infamousplot - Complete, Oneshot, T. One month. That was all the time he gave Kitanji: four weeks, 28 days- give or take a few. Well, now he's down to three weeks. A whole week wasted. Because SOMEBODY, though he won't name any names -Neku Sakuraba -, just won't freaking DIE! Now, he's sprinting through the RG with a gun, a psycho on his tail, and only one goal in mind: Kill the proxy. Now.

The Red Queen series, Kay (sincere) - Complete, T, unfolds in four parts. In which someone who has been too long alone finally reaches out, building a bridge between his world and another's. It has been decades in coming, and it isn't easy, but the more difficult the ordeal, the greater the reward -- just like in any Game.

Tokyo Ghoul:

mamihlapinatapai, sinshine - Complete, T, Oneshot.

“Hey, babe,” he crooned into the phone. “I know you're thirsty but you can't keep calling me at work like this.”

“Hide.” Came the exasperated sigh and he couldn't help but smile at the sound. “You're not really at work, are you?”

“Nah, I'm just getting something to eat.” Hide took another bite out of the dismembered arm he held and licked a drip of blood up his wrist before it could hit his jacket. “What's up?”

Your Cross, I’ll Bear, PTchan - WIP, T. “You make him sound like the hero of a shonen manga or something,” he couldn’t help but comment.

“Who knows,” Koma replied just as Irimi stood to deliver the order. “Maybe he is,” he winked. “And you would be the sidekick right?”

Kaneki sweatdropped, but chuckled all the same. A story with Hide as the main character, huh… he thought, wringing his cloth in the sink before hanging it on the rail and picking up his notepad. Well, if it’s him… then it would surely be one filled with hope.(Or: that fic where Hide wakes up in the past just in time to prevent the Tragedy that was Kaneki Ken's life... by taking it on himself.

Of course, it doesn't have to be a Tragedy.)

Yuri on Ice:

a glide in your step, Yuu_chi - Complete, T, Oneshot. Ah, Yuuri thinks as his skates touch down on the ice, and even as Yuuko watches him it’s the weight of Viktor’s eyes he feels on his shoulder blades, I’m not ready to let this go. Victor/Yuri.

fight for you, write for you, third - Complete, T, Oneshot. The thing is, Yuuri had completely forgotten about his account on Figure Skating! until he sees the email in his inbox. He doesn’t know how he ends up awake at 3 AM defending Victor’s reputation from strangers on the internet. Victor/Yuri.

i see quiet nights poured over ice, ohhotlamb - WIP, T. He’s a despicable man, but what he offers is the truth. I’ll make you a winner, he says. And he knows -

This is one thing that Yuuri can’t refuse.

like your french girls, ebenroot - Complete, T. "Victor," Yuri begins, lowering the eighteenth sketch of the figure skater Victor drew this week, "you have a fucking problem."

--in which Victor is an artist, Yuuri is his figure skating muse, and Yuri is so done hearing about their stupid love story through Instagram. Victor/Yuri.

stay young (go dancing), ryuuzaou - Complete, Explicit, Oneshot. Victor/Yuri.

“Do you do this with every pretty boy that serves you champagne?” Yuuri asks, finally a touch of humor in his tone.

“I’ll admit, I’m the flirty type,” Viktor says, “but I haven’t asked to kiss any.” Oh, fuck it. Yuuri throws caution to the wind and says, “You won’t have to.”

aka: the one where yu-topia onsen caters a celebration party for viktor nikiforov's fifth world championship win, and viktor takes interest in the super hot waiter.

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burnthispress · 8 years

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Next Stop, San Francisco (SFO/BART fanfic, no content warnings)

Next Stop, San Francisco

Summary:

After a long day of supporting the #NoMuslimBan protests in the San Francisco Bay Area, friends and roommates SFO (San Francisco Airport) and BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) kick back to watch some Doctor Who and eat leftover pizza. All ages, no content warnings

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9505490

- - - - - -

"Hey, how's it going BART?" SFO asked. "You sure brought me a lot of folks today!"

BART flopped down on the couch and sighed. "Pretty good, flygirl, it was a long haul and we have more ahead of us! It isn't going to stop!"

"Yeah. Intense. I liked the people with the tuba. And I brought you some leftover pizza."

"Awesome!" BART opened a box and screamed a little. "Vegetarian combo, my favorite! You're so nice!"

SFO sprawled out on the big leather couch next to the multi-stranded Bay Area train system. "Well, what are roommates for! Hey, want to see my photos from the protests? I was totally watching your tweets the whole time. That one about how you were running regular, reliable service for people. Oh, man, I'm cracking up all over again. " The curvaceous, cheerful airport pulled out her phone and tapped at it. "Here it is! She read it out loud, smirking. "You can take BART to all kinds of weekend events - also, direct service to SFO is running great right now."

BART laughed a little sheepishly, their mouth full of pizza.

"And if that wasn't clear enough you spelled it right out in your next tweet. 'All races, colors, religions, genders, ages, disabled, veterans, orientations, sexes & those of foreign national origin are welcome on BART.' Can't argue with that!" SFO looked adoringly across the couch at her bold, funny roommate and settled herself under the cozy blanket they shared in front of the TV. BART looked proud, but still a little embarrassed.

"No, I'm serious, that was great. Just the right amount of sly, hilarious subtweet, encouraging people to go to the protest, showing support! And it was completely true! Here, give me your feet, I'll give you a foot massage. You must be so tired."

"Aw, come on. Just a regular day really. Lots of riders. And a couple of tweets. It was nothing compared to your amazing support, flygirl! You made that announcement directly supporting the protesters and calling them brave, and you got supplies and support to them and the detained travelers. All those people stomping around, going the wrong way in your corridors and in the street, a lot of noise and fuss."

"Nah, I've got this. One of the good things about being infrastructure in this country is that I'm pretty much accessible for all. Big, wide halls, elevators, escalators, lots of bathrooms and spaces for tired people to sit down. Being in the Bay Area is pretty decent for that too. Now I'm not even going to mention your poor little broke down elevators, BART…. You need more tax support, that's for sure. Come on, put up your feet and have a rest."

The tired, staunch little electric rail-based transit system put up their feet for a friendly foot rub, feeling grateful for having such good luck in roommates. They sighed again, obsessing about the situation. "Those poor passengers. After their long flights, getting detained and not being able to get home or to their friends and family. Exhausted, terrified, facing confusing changes in the law and heartless bureaucrats, getting interrogated, maybe separated from their companions, even getting handcuffed. I'd do anything to make their ordeal end as fast as possible. It shouldn't be happening!"

"Calm down BART!" the airport smiled. "You did the best you could and your work was important! Tomorrow I know you'll be back in there. I mean, I'm there now, of course, but you know how it is for us infrastructure folks, most of me is here for the night as everything slows down, but part of me is always on. I swear, it just never ends. Right now we need some down time! So, what do you want to watch?"

"Hmmmm, I don't really want a movie…. I can't think of anything good. How about Doctor Who?"

"I got it all right here, you know my friend the datacenter hooks me up." SFO thought for a minute and fiddled with her phone. "Oh yeah. I have just the thing! Alexa, play the episode Logopolis on the big screen."

"Playing Logopolis," Alexa replied in her usual cheerful way.

"Thanks Alexa," BART said, smiling.

"No problem."

"Have you ever thought about what the people who are named you-know-what are going through?" BART said. "I mean, have they all changed their names or what?"

"I know! Why did they even name her that!"

"SFMUNI was telling me the other day how mad the Archive is about the whole darn thing, remind me to tell you that story.."

SFO interrupted the gossipy train system. "Shhhh, it's starting! OMG I love this one so much! I love Tom Baker!"

"Does it have the TARDIS?" BART asked with a little bit of a leer, wiggling their eyebrows.

"Duh it has the TARDIS, what do you think? Are we sentient transportation infrastructure, or what? And even better… the Master's TARDIS!"

"Ooooooh! " BART stared at the giant screen across the cozy living room. "That sounds amazing…."

Their stripey, fat cat, Millbrae, jumped up to curl up on their blanket, purring steadily as the friends watched the amazing science fiction drama unfold. They cheered on heroism from the Time Lords and humans saving the machinery of the universe and the heroic computer saving the universe in its turn.

"Let's have some tea," BART said after the thrilling conclusion of Logopolis. "Alexa, please heat up the teakettle."

"Heating teakettle."

"Wow. That was even more intense of an episode than I remembered," SFO said.

"Yeah," BART said, bustling around with mugs and tea paraphrenalia. "It really made me think. So much depends on folks like us who keep things running and keep public spaces open to all. I was thinking again on your public statement. It's interesting that you basically framed human rights as a matter of good customer service. Is that weird? It's like this appeal to capitalism on some level…."

SFO considered this with a serious look on her face. "I know what you mean, it is weird, but it's a way to talk about basic human decency in the language we have available to us at the moment, I guess."

BART nodded. "I know people just want to get where they're going. Our job can't be to just obey, even if that's how we're programmed and that's what seems easiest. We have to think about what's right!"

"Yeah!" SFO said. "The idea of human rights is like an imaginary city that we have to keep imagining actively, to make it real, even if it's imperfect, kinda like your PEE SMELLING ELEVATORS people have to wheel into with their hands on their bare wheelchair wheels!"

"Hahahaha, shut up, I can't help it!" BART laughed. "You can talk about my horrible elevators when you get that pesky TSA off your back! Talk about the Master's TARDIS! I'd rather have a hundred elevators full of pee than be infested with the trappings of dictatorship and pointless security theater playing on people's fears to keep them under increasing amounts of social control!"

SFO rolled her eyes as she cradled her mug of hot tea. "OK… don't go there… Jeeez… Look, what I'm saying is, the ability to move around the world freely, seeing friends, family, having careers and adventures, and best of all, coming home again, is crucial for people's liberty and happiness. Everyone can see the sense in that. That's what we're fighting for, simply the right of everyone to be able to create just what we have right this moment - a safe and peaceful home to be in. Not everyone in this country has that safe home, but that's what we're struggling to bring about. So, by talking about our duty to our customers, I'm trying to appeal to everyone's idea of what's right."

BART sat back down with their own tea, re-settling the cat onto its capacious lap. "No, no, I agree, I think it was just perfect. You keep on doing it!"

The friends sat drinking their tea with Millbrae the cat between them, sharing a rambling conversation, getting more and more incoherent, deep into the night. Sleep eluded them as they checked in over and over on the progress of lawyers, judges, hearings, protestors, cruel arrests and the suffering and fears of the detained travelers. Just as much as they needed sleep, they needed companionship and solidarity. Their hopeful talk of politics and planning for tomorrow's struggle heartened them. Tomorrow would be a new day!

#activism #protest #nomuslimban #public transit #anthropomorphic #fanfic #fandom #doctorwho #san francisco #bay area

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lizhenry · 8 years

Text

Next Stop, San Francisco (public transit fanfic, SFO/BART)

Next Stop, San Francisco

Summary:

http://archiveofourown.org/works/9505490

- - - - - -

"Hey, how's it going BART?" SFO asked. "You sure brought me a lot of folks today!"

BART flopped down on the couch and sighed. "Pretty good, flygirl, it was a long haul and we have more ahead of us! It isn't going to stop!"

"Yeah. Intense. I liked the people with the tuba. And I brought you some leftover pizza."

"Awesome!" BART opened a box and screamed a little. "Vegetarian combo, my favorite! You're so nice!"

BART laughed a little sheepishly, their mouth full of pizza.

"Hmmmm, I don't really want a movie…. I can't think of anything good. How about Doctor Who?"

"Playing Logopolis," Alexa replied in her usual cheerful way.

"Thanks Alexa," BART said, smiling.

"No problem."

"Have you ever thought about what the people who are named you-know-what are going through?" BART said. "I mean, have they all changed their names or what?"

"I know! Why did they even name her that!"

"SFMUNI was telling me the other day how mad the Archive is about the whole darn thing, remind me to tell you that story.."

SFO interrupted the gossipy train system. "Shhhh, it's starting! OMG I love this one so much! I love Tom Baker!"

"Does it have the TARDIS?" BART asked with a little bit of a leer, wiggling their eyebrows.

"Duh it has the TARDIS, what do you think? Are we sentient transportation infrastructure, or what? And even better… the Master's TARDIS!"

"Ooooooh! " BART stared at the giant screen across the cozy living room. "That sounds amazing…."

"Let's have some tea," BART said after the thrilling conclusion of Logopolis. "Alexa, please heat up the teakettle."

"Heating teakettle."

"Wow. That was even more intense of an episode than I remembered," SFO said.

BART sat back down with their own tea, re-settling the cat onto its capacious lap. "No, no, I agree, I think it was just perfect. You keep on doing it!"

#protests #activism #roommates #fandom #fanfic #silly #anthropomorphism #transit #public transit #san francisco #bay area #doctor who #nomuslimban

0 notes

p-and-p-admin · 4 years

Photo

Interview given to The Severus Snape and Hermione Granger Shipping Fan Group. (sharing here Admin approved)

https://www.facebook.com/groups/199718373383293/

Hello Ciule and welcome to Behind the Quill, thank-you for sitting down with us for a chat.

SS/HG readers might be familiar with your stories “Awkward” and “Headmaster’s Wife”.

Okay, let’s jump right in. What's the story behind your pen name? Well, I sort of took one of my real names, swirled the letters around in the air with my imaginary wand, and I ended up with this. Can’t begin to imagine where I got the idea from... ;-) Later on, I realized that Ciule is actually a name in Romania. I had no idea, but there are people out there carrying this name for real. I guess I’m #sorrynotsorry? Which Harry Potter character do you identify with the most? To be quite frank: No one, really. This is more about the characters I like, than truly identifying with them. I can relate to parts of some of them, but not the whole package. Primarily, I write about Hermione, Voldemort and Severus, and the one common thread between those three is the search for knowledge. That’s a trait I can identify with, but I’m neither an evil bastard, a grumpy protector nor a fretting, intelligent activist. I am, however, a swot. If you had asked who I’d want to be, the answer is clear. I want to be Albus Dumbledore. Though I can’t agree with the things he did, I feel absolutely certain that he’s the one who has the most fun during the books. I want to have that twinkling fun in face of absolute chaos. Do you have a favourite genre to read (not in fic, just in general)? Fantasy! Definitely fantasy. While growing up, I read ‘everything’ in every genre, and in my twenties, I decided I’d spend my time reading what I loved the most. So, fantasy it is. Do you have a favourite "classic" novel? You landed me in an existential crisis right there. I mean, there’s so many to choose from! ‘Wuthering Heights’, I think. It hurts so good. Or maybe ‘Rebecca’, at least, I loved that when I was younger. Or the fairly obscure ‘Lorna Doone.’ When I was a kid, I wanted to be a film director, shooting Lorna Doone into an epic film. Oh well, there might be a theme in this selection of books which reflects in my writing… At what age did you start writing? The creative process has gone on since forever. I’ve told myself thousands of stories in my head, but rarely written anything down. At the age of ten, I had a co-writing project with one of my friends. We created this secret room in her basement, and painstakingly wrote a ‘novel’. It was fun, though the writing ended as it became too cold down in the basement during winter. How did you get into writing fanfiction? In 2009, I became completely obsessed with a TV-show in the last episode. I was watching the entire series, casually enjoying the murder mystery, and in the last episode, the villain said: “I can do the math,” and I was literally gone. That obsession sparked writing my first fanfic stories. Those stories are still on FFnet, but they aren’t any good. *shrugs* What's the best theme you've ever come across in a fic? Is it a theme represented in your own works? Compromise. The world isn’t a perfect place, and will never be. You can, however, make it more to your liking. It may not be perfect, but if you play the cards you are dealt, you might improve something. In Robert Jordan’s “the Wheel of Time”-series, one of the characters goes through a test in a parallel universe of sorts, and she thinks: “The world was not what she wanted, not anywhere near it.” I loved that: trying your best to make things as you want them to be in the face of dangers and difficulties. And then there’s time travel! I love messing with time, and there are so many great Time-travelling fics. Plus, I have to say I have a certain love for the villains... What fandoms are you involved in other than Harry Potter? Currently, I’m not writing for any other fandoms. I read Star Wars, GoT, POTO and LOTR, and in the past I read Smallville. Though it’s more of a type of ship for me, because I only read Reylo, SanSan, Erik/ Christine, Lex/Lana and ….drum roll… the extremely small and quite oddball ship of Eowyn/ Grìma Wormtongue. If you’ve never tried the last one, go search for the fantastic stories by auri_mynonys. If you could make one change to canon, what would it be? Do you have a favourite piece of fanon? One change: duh, that’s easy, isn’t it? Severus lives. Or, maybe Dumbledore acting more rational, not keeping so many secrets. Maybe telling McGonagall that Severus is on the Order’s side… (Interviewer is laughing - ”NOT so easy”) I do write Voldemort wins AUs, but I wouldn’t want canon Voldemort to win. I prefer him to be more sane than in canon. My absolute favourite piece of fanon has to be the Black library. I thought it was canon, but it’s not. This is a thing that really, really should exist in canon! Do you listen to music when you write or do you prefer quiet? I’m very much inspired by music, and sometimes I listen as I write, but not always. Some fics are heavily inspired by music, such as ‘Absence’ and the last epilogue to ‘The Manipulation of Time and Matter’. What are your favourite fanfictions of all time? Definitely ‘Two Steps from Hell,’ by the amazing Ssserpensssotia, but that’s a Volmione. This was such a wild ride, I felt like I was on the edge of my seat, holding my breath the entire time. Those twists and turns were so unpredictable and … Well, I’m in awe. The SS/HG fandom is so massive, there’s a plethora of great stories out there. The unfinished ‘Self-Slain Gods on Strange Altars’ is a wonderful story by scumblackentropy, and I love Slytherpoufs stories, especially the wip ‘Ghosts’, but also ‘Angels to Fly’. And then there’s the one that got away - it means, I can’t find it. In this story, Severus watches the thestrals, befriending one of them, I think, but they’re unpredictable and maybe even dangerous. He’s heartbroken, and knows how it all will go down, having bitterly accepted his role. It made me cry. And then there’s the works by Aurette, and lena1987, Subversa, Kittenshift… Are you a plotter or a pantser? How does that affect your writing process? I need (strike that: want) to draft the entire story before I post, to have some idea on how it goes. That makes it easier to write, but if it’s a long story, I’m happy as long as I know the general direction. This year, I finished a story that was on an unintended hiatus for two years, and I think part of my problem on getting back into writing it up was a too vague idea for the ending. What is your writing genre of choice? Uh. I don’t know? Basically, you could argue that I’m a porn writer, or at least it’s fuelled by sexual tension and angst. So, romance or drama, bordering on erotica might be correct. To be frank, I haven’t really thought about categories after I started posting on AO3. Which of your stories are you most proud of? Why? Hard to say. I might go with “the Manipulation of Time and Matter,” because I think it’s the best plot I’ve created. Besides, I managed to write Hermione having a relationship with both Severus and Voldemort in the same fic. My favourite “clean” SSHG would be the short story ‘Grimmauld’. Did it unfold as you imagined it or did you find the unexpected cropped up as you wrote? What did you learn from writing it? In Grimmauld, the house became a character. That was unexpected, and not something I had planned from the beginning. So the lesson would be “don’t start posting until you know what’s going to happen.” Or else, this story might have turned out very much different. I had to throw in a little made-up lore on how you set blood wards on a house too to make it sentient. That proved to be a quite chilling piece of magic. How personal is the story to you, and do you think that made it harder or easier to write? I love old houses. Exploring abandoned houses, going inside to see what remains of furniture, tapestries and everything is so exciting. (It can also be dangerous, but that’s another matter). Such houses makes me feel .. nostalgic, plus I get those nice little shivers down your spine that is a little like a horror story. So, I wanted to use Grimmauld as a setting to explore that in a fic, to really dig into the aching loneliness of a lost house. The story came very quickly to me, so I guess that helped me. What books or authors have influenced you? How do you think that shows in your writing? Big question there. Hmm, I think … it’s hard to say. I’m a reader, really, and I couldn’t easily pick apart any influences. Though I have to say that one of the things I enjoyed when reading ‘Two Steps From Hell’ was the attention to magic. I think it’s important to include spells, rituals and the use of magic in my fics, because that’s what sets it apart from a Muggle AU, for example. That’s an important part of the world-building. Do people in your everyday life know you write fanfiction? My significant other knows. I didn’t tell him, but he found out for himself, probably by spying on me. When he told me, I almost couldn’t stop laughing, because he… erm, he said he had thought about reenacting a scene in my PWP ‘Twenty Points to Gryffindor’, where Severus shouts the title as he… well… you get the gist. If he had done that, I’d have had a heart attack. I would literally be dead. Instead, I laughed non stop for an hour. How true for you is the notion of "writing for yourself"? Haha, so true. You spend all those hours in front of your laptop - and if I wasn't motivated by doing it for myself, I can’t even see how I’d force myself through all those hours. It’s fun, though. I do this because I love it. How important is it for you to interact with your audience? How do you engage with them? Just at the point of publishing? Through social media? Very important. I'm on the publishing sites (visible interaction is why I prefer AO3 instead of FFnet) and on Facebook, mainly. I love feedback (as all authors do), and when people form theories or make comments, I get an insight into my own writing. I know how it’s going to pan out, but the audience doesn’t, and how they perceive things might be different from how I think it is. At times, it influences how I go forward, mostly because I need to add things, to explain what’s going on. What is the best advice you've received about writing? Don’t post until you know the ending, and remember: the devil on your left shoulder will be at war with the angel on the right side. Listen to the angel telling you to wait a little longer, and not to the devil chanting: ‘Post, post, post!’ In the end, of course, you’ll give in to the devil, regretting it until you’re done. What do you do when you hit writer's block? Read. Read a lot. And read some more. Has anything in real life trickled down into your writing? Certainly. I’m a foodie. For example, everything that Voldemort eats is stuff I love. His food habits are primarily mine, and I love cooking. Do you have any stories in the works? Can you give us a teaser? It’s a short piece, maybe three or four chapters, with the title ‘Transference’. The point of departure from canon is during their time in the tent at DH. Hermione wakes up in a bed, in a room she doesn’t recognize, having no idea where she is, but she spots a large, moving picture on the drawer: Feeling panic rising, she stared hard at the moving and smiling pictures, and her heart leapt into her throat, pulse hammering as she recognized herself in the largest picture. A slightly older Hermione, in a white wedding dress, kissing and laughing at someone who simply had to be a much younger Severus Snape. It had to be him: Long black hair, hooked nose, sallow skin - but then he looked so young, carefree and happy - expressions she had never seen on her dour Professor's face. Beside the picture, there were numerous cards, greetings and well-wishings for their wedding - the date an impossible 21 August 1982, and amongst the cards, the largest one stood out, the black ink showing an elegant handwriting: “Dear Hermione and Severus! Best wishes for your wedding, Lord Voldemort.” Any words of encouragement to other writers? Read and write, in that order. Don’t worry about trolls, because when you contribute something that you created, it makes you so much more than people spending their time just raining on anyone’s parade. You brought something new to the world, they’re just reacting to things. If someone accuses you of a self-insert, go ahead and lecture them on the intentional fallacy. I promise, you won’t regret looking it up. ;-) And please, mind the normal physical limits when you’re writing smut. Unless you give the male a stamina potion or put him under the Imperius, it’s unlikely that his refractory period allows him to come five times in one hour. Realistic smut is so much more sexy, lol. Thanks again for speaking with us Ciule.

#fanfic #fanfiction #snamione #writing

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p-and-p-admin · 4 years

Photo

Interview given to The Severus Snape and Hermione Granger Shipping Fan Group.

https://www.facebook.com/groups/199718373383293/

Hello DeepShadows2 and welcome to Behind the Quill, I am pleased to have this chance to chat with you.

Many of our group’s members will know you as part of our Mod team but they might also know you as the author of Peculiar and of Good Night, Sweet Prince (written for our last Prompt Week of 2020!)

Okay, let’s jump right in. What's the story behind your pen name?

I grew up in the martial arts and my 'warrior name' was 'kage urufu' or Shadow Wolf. When I was in Creative Writing in high school, someone else was writing under that pen name, and they were more popular, and I was told I 'wasn't allowed to copy her name' by our teacher. So I went back and forth between some names and finally came up with DeepShadows. It is because during karate Kamp's ninja night games I would find the darkest spots in the camp and wait to sneak attack my enemies to steal their flags. The 2 comes from the fact that my first ever FF.net account got deleted because I put up lemons there instead of AFF.net.

Which Harry Potter character do you identify with the most?

Honestly, it is a mix between Severus, Draco, and Minerva. Each in their own way was in positions they would have rather not been in at one point in time, but made the best of those situations. Do you have a favourite genre to read? (not in fic, just in general) Strangely enough, I am really into my 70s Feminist Sci-Fi. Like Darkover and Tanith Lee's 'Don't Bite the Sun' Series. As for Fic, I am into many scenarios and it changes according to my mood. Recently I've been into fluff slice of life.

Do you have a favourite "classic" novel?

Oof. Asking me to pick solely one is a crime. I have always loved Gone with the Wind. If I had to point at one, it would have to be it. But I honestly went over 15 titles in my head trying to decide which one would be the winner.

At what age did you start writing?

I have been telling stories and writing them since I was young. I could read and write at age 4 because my grandmother wanted me to be ready for school. My first written story was at 5 ish and I still have my Crayola blue five-line story about a Unicorn named Pepper.

How did you get into writing fanfiction?

I got into fanfiction when I discovered that ff.net existed. My first fanfic is still up there under this pen name, but it is miles and leagues from my current quality. Spelling is still atrocious though.

What's the best theme you've ever come across in a fic? Is it a theme represented in your own works?

Honestly, hard to say. I love post-war fics. I love when the narrative is close to canon, but uniquely not, so it handles like it is an extension of the world and not a separate world.

Theme wise, I am a sucker for hard-hitting drama.

What fandoms are you involved in other than Harry Potter?

I was into Kingsman, but not as a fic writer, but a Tumblr role-player. It's been a while, so mostly now I'm just back to being a Potterhead. It's where I began and where I always come back to.

If you could make one change to canon, what would it be? Do you have a favourite piece of fanon?

Snape lives! You cannot tell me that a POTIONS MASTER who spends ALL DAY every day keeping students from POISONING themselves and who personally makes BLOOD REPLENISHERS for the infirmary would not have been prepared for an attack from Nagini. It is not secret knowledge that Drama King Voldy likes to have her do his dirty work and Severus would have been prepared for the off chance he was discovered and attacked. He lived.

My favourite piece of Fanon.... hmm... I like a lot of Fanon. It's hard to put my finger on just one piece that I enjoy.

Do you listen to music when you write or do you prefer quiet?

Music! Nearly all of Peculiar was written to Folklore by Taylor Swift.

What are your favourite fanfictions of all time?

Cake and a Cup of Tea by Cybelle Somewhere I belong by .... I can't remember Not Only a Granger by my friend Ferporcel

Are you a plotter or a pantser? How does that affect your writing process?

I am a Pantser. I have beats and thematic key points I know I want to hit, but the characters sort of fill out the story as I go. Sometimes I surprise myself with where I end up and I love that. Example: Draco/Krum was a total accident in Peculiar, but I love everything about it.

What is your writing genre of choice?

Hurt/Comfort and Drama/Angst

Which of your stories are you most proud of? Why?

Peculiar and Good Night, Sweet Prince.

Did it unfold as you imagined it or did you find the unexpected cropped up as you wrote? What did you learn from writing it?

Oh, my goodness, the unexpected cropped up. Peculiar was only supposed to be a 25 chapter post-war, post-divorce AU that turned into this beautiful beast. Characters were created as I went, and some side characters became major plot devices or turning points. I learned that sometimes my brain knows what it is doing before I know what it is doing. There were hints and notes of what was going on that I wasn't even aware.

How personal is the story to you, and do you think that made it harder or easier to write?

There are points that are special to me. It made it easier and harder to write. Having experience with some subjects Hermione goes through makes it easier to translate the emotions into words, but simultaneously, some of those factors are trauma-based and I had to navigate myself through.

What books or authors have influenced you? How do you think that shows in your writing?

I draw influence from everything I read. That is a key reason I don't read anything similar to my current work while writing because I don't want to accidentally lift from someone else.

Do people in your everyday life know you write fanfiction?

Two of my roommates are readers and I get people barging into my room after a post a chapter yelling 'OH MY GOD'. I also have a typed and printed review handed in person to me by my roommate that is on my inspiration board where she says 'Fuck you, but with love'. My entire friend group knows I write fanfiction and I get some of them to read it from time to time. My mom won't read peculiar until it is finished because she doesn't want to nag me for chapters.

How true for you is the notion of "writing for yourself"?

YES! I started Peculiar because I couldn't find what I was looking for. I wanted a high emotion, high stakes, drama and background rich fanfiction in which Hermione has completely broken and has given up on herself. Where she has nothing and no one and has lost that spark in her. I wanted Ron bashing where he is a villain and yet isn't the same time. I wanted Severus to be indifferent to her at first and slowly discover her suffering and set out to help her for the sake of the school, and it develops into more through feelings severed early on just after the war. I wanted her to have to overcome trauma and recover for herself, not for Severus, but instead with him and that they heal from their past together while facing continuous challenges that attempt to tear them apart. Along with other factors that haven't come to be yet, so I won't want to spoil.

How important is it for you to interact with your audience? How do you engage with them? Just at the point of publishing? Through social media?

I love my audience. It actually brought me here. Shout out to Geek and Tattoo for bringing me to this group’s Discord server. I answer every comment, I respond to any statements or comments I notice on social media. I'm an open person with my audience, which is why when I had to go on hiatus, I told them exactly what was going on.

What is the best advice you've received about writing?

Write what feels best. If you don't like what you are writing, no one else is going to. If you don't want to write a certain scene but you need it, write an article or a letter about it.

What do you do when you hit writer's block?

I cry. Then I put on the music that inspired the story/scene and I pace my room, going over the potential dialogue and basically acting out what I think should happen until it sounds right.

Has anything in real life trickled down into your writing?

Yes. Many of my OC characters are modelled after some of my real-life friends. And some other events have easily transitioned into events that Hermione and Severus have gone through.

Do you have any stories in the works? Can you give us a teaser?

I am currently writing the next chapter for Peculiar. I won't give a teaser, but I will say that Hermione and Severus give Rita Skeeter a delicious taste of revenge.

Any words of encouragement to other writers?

Don't stop, but also be kind to yourself. Not every writing session is going to be your best, but you won't have better days if you give up. Also, if someone doesn't like what you write, forget them, as long as you are happy with it, that is what matters.

Thanks so much for giving us your time.

#fanfiction #fanfic #snamione #writing #ss/hg

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p-and-p-admin · 5 years

Photo

Interview given to The Severus Snape and Hermione Granger Shipping Fan Group. (sharing here Admin approved)

https://www.facebook.com/groups/199718373383293/ Hello CRMediaGal and welcome to Behind the Quill, thank-you for letting us get to know you a little better.

Many of our members will know your Unquestionable Love series.

We’re grateful you can spend some time with us today.

Okay, so let's jump into it!

What’s the story behind your pen name?

CR is an abbreviation for “cracked rendition” and that comes from the excerpt from a poem I’ve loved since I was young. Years ago, to help put myself through art college, I did web design on the side and called my little company Cracked Rendition Designs. When I created my pen name, I combined all of these elements together to make CRMediaGal (for some illogical reason I thought it was a solid name at the time lol) and, to this day, I still think about changing my pen name altogether. I figure it’s too late for that now, though.

Which Harry Potter character do you identify with the most?

Luna Lovegood. I wish I’d had her self-assurance and confidence in who she is at that age but, that aside, I identify with how she’s a bit of a loner, an oddball, and tends to be left out (or does until she finds her Hogwarts friends). I’ve really struggled with being an outsider most of my life, so it’s comforting to see that representation in literature but through a young woman who possesses the self-confidence people like myself often lack.

Do you have a favourite genre to read?

I tend to love period dramas, so a lot of the classic novels are my favourites (i.e. Austen, Henry James, etceteras).

Do you have a favourite “classic” novel?

The Portrait of a Lady is one of my favourite novels. I reread it every couple of years.

At what age did you start writing?

I’ve been writing since I was very little, so probably seven, eight, nine-ish? I used to be much more of an artist/sketcher than a writer, so I’d make up stories and write and sketch and staple them together all day long lol.

How did you get into writing fanfiction?

After watching Deathly Hallows: Part 2 at the cinema in 2011. Severus Snape’s death hit me hard all over again (I hadn’t read the last book in a few years), and I decided that I desperately needed to change that for myself lol. Unquestionable Love is the first fanfic (SSHG) I ever wrote and it’s become an ongoing series, so I’m grateful to have gotten the “spark” to write fanfic from somewhere around that time. I decided in 2011 to try my hand at “fleshing out” my little Snape family that had been mucking about in my head for much longer than that.

What's the best theme you've ever come across in a fic? Is it a theme represented in your own works?

I’m a total sucker for the brooding, self-loathing male who thinks himself unworthy of love and redemption and the sunshine, kick-arse lady, aka Centre of His World, who loves him back to life. #GimmeMorePleaseandThankYou

What fandoms are you involved in other than Harry Potter?

I’ve written fics for Star Wars (ReyBen/Reylo is another one of my favourite ships outside of SSHG), The Hobbit (Thranduil/Tauriel), and Les Miserables (Enjonine).

If you could make one change to canon, what would it be? Do you have a favourite piece of fanon?

Severus Snape’s death (he’s NOT dead! #nope #denial4ever).

My favourite piece of fanon is probably Severus being Draco’s godfather. Regardless of where it originated from, I’m all for it.

Do you listen to music when you write or do you prefer quiet?

I used to need complete solitude and quiet to write, but nowadays I can write with some instrumental music playing in the background. It depends on where my headspace is at.

What are your favourite fanfictions of all time?

I don’t read much fanfic anymore, as it’s hard enough for me to find time for my own writing…but off the top of my head, I’d probably have to go with a “classic” - The Tattered Man (SSHG) by Aurette. It’s gutting and heart-wrenching and doesn’t have a happy ending, but it’s a hauntingly beautiful piece that stays with you.

Are you a plotter or a pantser? How does that affect your writing process?

I’m somewhere in the middle. I tend to plot out certain points I want to hit from chapter to chapter (if it’s a multi-chapter fic and heavy on plot, for instance), but writing is an organic process and I enjoy allowing my muse to surprise me as well.

What is your writing genre of choice?

A good mixture of Angst and Fluff (and nearly always with a HEA!)

Which of your stories are you most proud of? Why?

I’m proud of all my stories for different reasons, mainly technical milestones I was able to achieve with the writing or the emotional attachments I had to them at the time that I wrote them.

If I had to choose one (or two because I gotta cheat here haha!), I’d go with either Unto Their Own (SSHG) because the subject matter was so dark and took me to places mentally that were very tough for me to navigate (the fact that I finished that fic is an achievement for me because it could have very well been abandoned at various points in the story); or Unquestionable Love (SSHG), both the original and the series as a whole, because that story has my heart entirely invested in it. That precious family means everything to me and the story, from beginning to present, is my headcanon for the SSHG pairing. I really can’t see them any other way, though I’ve written other stories where their lives turn out quite differently.

Did it unfold as you imagined it or did you find the unexpected cropped up as you wrote? What did you learn from writing it?

Sticking with Unquestionable Love here, the original story came together mostly as expected, though there were a couple darker turns the fic was supposed to take that I didn’t have the heart--or the stamina, I suppose--to end up developing.

One of my dear OCs/one of the daughters was supposed to die at one point in the story and I realised that doing so would have ultimately changed Severus’s fate, as well as the entire course of the storyline. (There is just no way that UL!Severus would survive the death of one of his children, so I guess I’m no JK Rowling or any other esteemed writer who can just ruthlessly kill off their characters haha!) I’ve learned through writing this series that I can tackle subject matters that are very emotionally tough for me and that’s a good feeling.

I’ve also learned that I have something to say, even if it’s not much heard or well-liked, and that that still makes my storytelling worthy of being out there in the fandomverse; or, at least, I try to remind myself that it’s okay to exist.

How personal is the story to you, and do you think that made it harder or easier to write?

It’s intensely personal in some respects and those aspects are difficult for me to discuss. I’m not sure if I’ll ever be ready to talk about them in depth, but I will say a couple scenes in the latter half of Unquestionable Love were incredibly trying to write due to personal experience. I pushed through those moments, though, and I think that, because of that therapeutic exercise, I’m able to tackle other tough subjects in my stories more easily.

What books or authors have influenced you? How do you think that shows in your writing?

I admire various writers, mainly for the love of the language that’s reflected in their writing styles. Anne Rice immediately comes to mind. If I had an ounce of her talent, I’d write with so much confidence lol. I don’t think writers like her necessarily affect my writing style, but they’re certainly people I aspire to write more like.

Do people in your everyday life know you write fanfiction?

Only more recently. I haven’t really allowed any of them to read my work, as so much of it is deeply personal, but just being upfront with my closest friends and family has been a nice development.

How true for you is the notion of “writing for yourself”?

I think this is something, as a fic writer, that’s essential. However, I’m also of the mindset that fandom is about community, and fanfic writers want to engage with their audiences. We want to feel less alone in these wacky and often times complicated scenarios we put our characters through, and we want people to respond to them...hopefully, with a positive reaction.

That’s what it’s all about--interaction--and it can be rather heartbreaking, as a writer, when you don’t receive engagement because maybe your headcanons or takes on characters aren’t popular or are considered outside of the ‘norm’.

For me, I find it too crippling anymore to continue sharing my stories with the fandoms I love when they’re met with silence or hate. There’s nothing more soul crushing than just being dismissed or disliked or not accepted...and that’s why I’ve chosen to post my stories privately (for now, at least).

How important is it for you to interact with your audience? How do you engage with them? Just at the point of publishing? Through social media?

It’s pretty essential to me to be able to engage with readers. I absolutely love it and I wish it happened more often haha. I used to run polls and interact with readers on my fanfiction.net and AO3 accounts (both now inactive) and through my still active Tumblr account (http://crmediagal.tumblr.com/ ). I now have my own website - www.crmediagal.com - where I can fully control the flames and negativity.

It may be temporary but, so far, it’s working out pretty well. It’s made my readership a lot smaller but, at least, I know the people who are there genuinely want to read more of my work and won’t leave me hate comments. That’s so comforting and encouraging.

What would you most like your readers to take away with them when they've finished your stories?

A powerful message of some kind...remembrance...perhaps, suggest one or two of them to other readers and shippers out there.

That’s the only way our stories survive, really.

What is the best advice you’ve received about writing?

That you need to protect your “voice”, no matter how unpopular it may be, and that there is no one else who writes like you and that you should take pride in that.

I try to remind myself of these important pointers when I’m feeling particularly down about my storytelling abilities.

What do you do when you hit writer’s block?

Watch my favourite films or television shows to help re-spark my creativity. I come back to the writing when it ‘speaks’ to me. I no longer press myself to push out writing because, more often than not, the result is going to get tossed and reworked anyhow.

Has anything in real life trickled down into your writing?

Yes, certain experiences and people I’ve encountered in my life have definitely wound up in some of my stories.

Many of my OCs in different stories are examples of that.

Do you have any stories in the works? Can you give us a teaser?

I’m working on a new SSHG story that’s based off of a fun prompt from a dear, long-time reader.

It will start posting at my website - www.crmediagal.com - in the coming weeks/months, so if anyone would like access to it, you can contact me there.

Here’s a short excerpt:

Cradling his head in his hand, Severus stomped to his front door and opened it a crack, jostling the handle loud enough that it caught three people’s attention, the woman firstly before the others.

“What’s the bloody idea?” he snarled, shouting above them.

Each individual—two wizards and one witch—went mute and turned to stare from the neighbouring sidewalk.

“I’ll have you know that this is a quiet street! And I was sleeping!” When the guests next door to him, who were just towing the property line and about to get themselves knocked out, offered no response, he prodded, grinding his teeth together,

“Are you daft, you fools? Do you not comprehend? HEY!”

The two gentlemen, who appeared to be fresh out of Hogwarts—or maybe they hadn’t gotten that far in their magical studies, judging by the stupidity on their expressions—startled and nodded in unison.

“Yes, sir!”

“Oh, my...” the witch, in turn, murmured, seemingly more to herself than anyone else.

Severus identified her vacant, open-mouthed expression at once: she recognised him. As of yet, he had little recollection as to who she might be and didn’t give a damn. He kicked his door open the rest of the way with his boot, jostling the three near trespassers backward a few more paces, and stalked down his steps and onto his sidewalk.

That was when he finally understood the reason behind all of the commotion: one of the branches to the old oak tree that shielded his stoop, and had been there since the earliest days he could recall of his childhood, had crashed onto the pavement, cracking the sidewalk in half.

A part of his iron fence, too, had crumbled under the weight of the broken branch, and there was an assortment of boxes, some severely banged up, scattered across his property.

“What the...? That’s my tree you idiots hit! And my bleedin’ fence...!”

“I - I’m sorry, sir,” stammered the witch with wildly curly hair and worrisome brown eyes, hastily stepping forward to intervene.

“I’ve been trying to figure out how this happened—”Severus turned his glare on her.

“And who are you?” The seemingly thirty-something woman blushed to her roots, which he couldn’t account for, until she spoke in a faint, insecure whisper,

“Um, Hermione, sir... Hermione Weasley. Oh, gosh, I mean, I - I was Hermione Weasley until...” She cleared her throat and attempted to reintroduce herself, flushing in such a manner that it flaunted dainty-looking freckles that dotted her cheeks and nose. Had she always had those? Severus couldn’t remember.

“Oh, bother! It’s Hermione Granger, Professor. Surely, you...you remember me?”Severus went as rigid as a column.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake...” he blurted aloud before he could stop himself. Hermione blinked, taken aback.

“I’m sorry?”Severus’s shock morphed into a tight-fitting sneer.

“I thought I was done with the lot of you.”

Any words of encouragement to other writers?

Try not to get too discouraged by lack of reviews or not making the recommendations lists. Keep persevering and know that someone out there, even if it’s just one reader, will love what you have to share with the world.

Thanks for spending some time with us today CRMediaGal, we’ve enjoyed getting to know you.

#fanfiction #fanfic #pro snape #snamione #sevmione #snanger #hermione #hermione granger #snape #severus snape #snape community #writing

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