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Hi Pia
Just to be clear, will the old version of Fae Tales remain available on ao3 or will it be replaced with the newer edited versions?
I'd appreciate knowing so I'll know whether to download the older versions before their replaced.
Thanks x
Hi anon,
I've talked about this a lot over the years. But basically I have actually edited and tweaked all of my stories many times over the years firstly, so that's a thing that does happen and it's worth backing up versions (if you want to keep the typos and some of the continuity errors x.x)
Secondly, I will save the 'references to SAL' version of Game Theory, so that this version is always available. I'm still on the fence about whether I'll make the AO3 version fully original, I always said that I would, but that was before I made the decision to actually try publishing, and now I think I could probably keep both.
However, even if I do that, I get a lot of people saying they find Game Theory confusing - why was Augus defeated? What did he do wrong? What's the difference between Seelie and Unseelie fae? Etc. etc. Questions that got answered in SAL for some, and certainly get addressed in COFT and TIP, never get addressed in GT, and that's kind of an issue for a free serial that is meant to help people get interested in my writing.
Some people overcome that (or have no issue with it), but it really is the biggest barrier to folks picking up the series.
In that sense, I have considered adding extra scenes, and also removing the scenes that have been completely OOC for over 8+ years, like Gwyn masturbating early on in GT, or the spanking scene later on. Neither one fits Gwyn's character, and it's very quickly established after that - and then maintained for almost a decade afterwards - that they really don't fit his character.
Those inconsistencies might be charming for some, but they're actually really frustrating for me! I haven't been able to reread Game Theory for enjoyment for like 4+ years because of it.
So, will I fix those things to make GT have decent continuity of character and add new scenes to GT on AO3? Maybe. Will I keep the references to SAL? Maybe! This one's more likely, especially for the folks - the many of us - who love fanfiction and love AO3 and came to GT (including me) from fanfiction. There's always a transitional story for people who need it.
My biggest stumbling blocks are the character continuity issues.
Also for those who probably don't know, I've made some actually pretty big edits to SAL for character continuity re: Gwyn and Augus. Augus, in particular, has had some major reworking in that story (like 4-5 years ago).
Every single one of my stories gets edited over time, especially if I do rereads. Most don't get new scenes, but like... oof I'd say there's about 2000 extra words on Gwyn and Augus in SAL, and I remember I did an edit about 6 years ago which easily removed about 12,000 words.
No one's ever brought it up, so ideally the edits felt smooth and just made the reading process more enjoyable.
But yeah if you want old versions of anything I write, anon, save/download them.
But if I make big structural changes (removing scenes / removing chapters), I will make a back-up copy myself and host it on Dropbox or something for folks to download going forwards. But hopefully they try the edited version too :)
#asks and answers#game theory#game theory edits#fae tales verse#fae tales#the fact is that game theory is the most inconsistent thing i've ever written#because it started out as hate fucking#became 'i can't let them die'#became 'oh shit is this a story'#and because i was trying to depart from fanfiction references#and couldn't do it entirely#and that frustrates me because now i *can* change that#and i *want to*#SAL ends just fine without game theory and it doesn't *need it* to be a complete story#Game Theory *does not start just fine without SAL*#which is not great#asklfasdjfas#that worked out fine a decade ago when everyone came over from SAL#but the *majority* of readers don't find GT that way anymore#and it's been like that for like 6+ years#and nostalgia is not a good enough reason to make things really hard#for new readers#when that series is already pretty challenging to newcomers y'know?
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favourite (teaser)
pairing: boss!wonwoo x model!mingyu x f.reader
genre: smut, slowburn, poly!relationship
summary: after being happily single for years, when you develop a crush, you don't know what to do. you think your closest friend (with benefits) can take your mind off things. but when you ask for his help, you certainly didn't imagine this kind of help from him.
final word count: tbd
teaser word count: 600 words
rating: NSFW 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT PLEASE!!!
teaser warning: reference to sex with sub male, mention of jealousy, slight sugar daddy wonwoo, asymmetric power dynamics, the entire teaser is suggestive in line with the story itself. wonwoo and mingyu are both depicted to be bisexual in this fanfiction, it does not imply anything with regards to real life as this is just a work of fiction.
a/n: i swear my hormones made me write this. but i can't say i regret it- boss wonwoo will be the death of me. final fic will be nearly 10k words, if not slightly more. pls let me know your thoughts, i'll be waiting <3
release date: out now!
Because you have some time until your company’s jet is scheduled to depart, so you’re roaming through the duty-free stores. You’re walking out of a chocolate store when you notice Mingyu’s life-sized poster, modelling for Calvin Klein.
You smile and grab your phone to take a quick photo, before admiring the advertisement. It must be a recent shoot, because his hair is cropped short like you noticed when he last came over. His muscles look well defined in the photograph, where he’s posing shirtless with a single black tie tied loosely to his neck, and black jeans hung low on his lips. There’s a wildly sensual look in his eyes, as if begging to be taken as you pleased, and it makes you smirk. Now you have something more to tease him for, when you meet him the next time.
“Pretty, isn’t he?” You haven’t realised when Wonwoo’s sidled up to your side, and you notice a Bulgari bag in his hands. So that’s where he’s been shopping while you were busy browsing through chocolates. Wonwoo’s eyes are fixed on the poster in front of you, an appreciative glint in his eyes.
“Pretty indeed. For as long as I remember him.”
Wonwoo turns to look at you, his eyebrow raised. “Are you a fan? Or a friend?” “The latter. Mingyu and I have been friends since high school.” “How interesting.” Eager to impress him, you elaborate, “I was the one who pushed him to get into modelling. Couldn’t have let looks like that slip, could I?” Wonwoo chuckles. “Indeed not. I’m sure many must thank you, including myself.”
Wonwoo takes out a small box from the bag he’s carrying. Opening the box, you see there’s a bracelet inside. Set with at least sixty 24 carat diamonds. It makes your mouth water and your eyes shine, and you cannot help but envy his boyfriend, if he’s the one on the receiving end of such gifts. “What do you think?
You wonder if it’s too personal a question, but you’re also sure a lot of lines between professional and personal have gotten blurred over this trip. So you bravely ask him, “Is that for your boyfriend?”
Wonwoo doesn’t show any sign of displeasure, if he feels it. His eyes still focused on Mingyu’s poster on the glowing display in front of you, he says, “Hmm. Do you think it’ll suit him?”
Your throat goes dry. If he’s bought it for his boyfriend, why are his eyes fixed on Mingyu? But you don’t think about it. Mingyu’s looks are, after all, captivating.
“I’m sure it will. He’s very lucky to be receiving such a pretty gift. He must be really precious to you.” You laugh lightly, trying to hide the bile of jealousy rising in your throat.
Wonwoo puts away the gift. “He is, of course.” His eyes now shift to yours. “Any favourite of mine is bound to be the most precious to me. And worthy of the prettiest of gifts, whatever they want.”
You fight the blush creeping into your cheeks, trying to stop your heart from racing on. This is ridiculous. Why on earth are you getting into your feels when he’s clearly thinking and talking about his lover? God, Y/N, get a grip on yourself. He’s not yours, and by the look of love and yearning on his face, he never will be.
It’s his voice that breaks you out of your trance. “Miss Y/L/N? The jet’s arrived. Don’t wanna miss it, do we?” You can’t help but nod dumbly and walk behind him to keep pace.
#simpxxstan#seventeen fanfic#seventeen x reader#svt#svt x reader#seventeen x you#svt smut#seventeen imagines#seventeen smut#wonwoo smut#mingyu smut#seventeen poly#seventeen minwon#seventeen wonwoo#seventeen mingyu#mingyu x wonwoo#seventeen fic#Spotify#favourite wonwoo mingyu
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Split Apart by Chaos
Sweetheart's pov
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Author's note: Sweetheart is referring to Milo as their husband because of how long they have been together. TRIGGER WARNING!! In this fanfiction mentions death, is emotional, and an implied anxiety attack. If that's not your type of read, don't continue here.
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Milo Greer. That's the only thing on my mind. My husband. My mate. The man who has been in my life for over half a decade made me the happiest person in the world, could be dead.
I was in my office when I was told about it. My coworker, Detective Gomez, came in and asked if I heard from my husband. I looked at them, my brow sewn together. "No, why?" Silence replaced the air in the dark room. His face grew pale, making my stomach turn. ".. You didn't hear?" I stood up, looking at them with fear and worry. "Hear.. what, Gomez," I press. He looks at me, hurt in his eyes. "The E&E games.. shades.. hundreds of them.. came into the stadium through a ward.. the Shaw pack was working as security for them, weren't they..?" The color in my face dropped to my shoes. "..Fuck."
I grabbed my jacket and stormed out to my car. I didn't even clock out. And I dare for the department to tell me jack shit about walking out. I didn't care and I don't care now. All I care about is my family.
I speed to my old college, running red light after red light, flooring the gas. I pull up to the parking lot, and security from D.U.M.P. is standing at the door. Getting out of my car, I grab my badge and phone. Heels clicking onto the concrete, I head to the door. One of the guards stands there, moving his arm to stop me. Before he could, I held my badge to his face, not stop walking. "Detective Greer, reporting from D.U.M.P., move."
I shove the two men out of my way by my shoulders, leaving them confused and stunned. Milo's gonna have my ass for being rude to the department I work for. Didn't care. He can lecture me all he wants, as long as I know he's okay with me. By my side. Holding my hand. I want to see his shit-eating grin and his eyes. His smile. His wolf form. Anything.
I pull up a picture of him holding our cat, Aggro. I'll use it to show people it and ask if they've seen him around the building. The window in the background tells me it was early in the morning when I took the picture, and the bed he was lying on was messy and unmade. Aggro, in his arms, looked tired and groggy as Milo looked at the camera with a pearly white smile. I tear up at the sight. "Please be okay," I mumble.
I look around, trying to see any sign of my werewolf lover. Chaos is all I see. Families and friends looking around the building, similar to what I look like. A mother was being held by what I assumed to be her husband, holding her as she panics. "It's technical difficulties, Honey, he's alright, I promise." "I'm sorry? Technical issues?" I think to myself. "Why the hell is D.U.M.P. lying to the public about this? Are these people not in this building to help?"
Never mind that right now. I have to find Milo and the others. I feel my anxiety crushing my chest. "Excuse me, have you seen this man around here? His name's Milo Greer. ... Okay thank you. " Excuse me, I'm sorry but have you seen any shifters around here? I'm trying to find my husband. He has a t-shirt that says Shaw Security on it. Have you seen anyone wearing anything like that? ... Okay, sorry. Stay safe."
Panic weighs on me. "Fuck fuck fuck shit fuck," I mumble to myself as I pull up another picture of Asher, David, Milo, and Tank in a living room from the past Solstice vacation cabin. I frantically look around. "Milo, please."
"Milo, please, please, please, please don't be in there. Please don't be dead." Tears fall as I try to push that thought out of my head. The image of his body... "No. He's not dead. He's fought shades before. He's more experienced in them. He knows what they're capable of. But they're shades. They're unpredictable. And you can't fight them off unless they're solid enough."
I flashback to our first date. If you could even call it that. Milo and I were working together to catch a shade that was causing trouble at big events like this. Milo was fighting off two that were almost fully solid. Mine? Not so much. It was enough to get ahold of, but only at certain parts of the body. Any part of it above its shoulders and below its waist was physical. My gun was torn by then dead shade's teeth during the fight. My knife was all I had. I was about to cloak when it struck me in the stomach and crawled at my clothes, ripping the bottom half of my shirt.
Pinning me to the wall,, its claws sinking into my neck. I saw its eyes. Black like a shark's, nothing held in them but hunger. As I thought that death was a breath away, I heard a growl. A low, angry growl. I smirk at the shade as it snarls, drooling on its grey lip.
The brown and white werewolf tackled the shade, digging his teeth into the shade's neck as it screeched, death sub coming to it. Milo snarled as he threw the corpse out of his mouth. Milo walked to me as I lay on the grass and dirt, gasping for air. I look at him. He looked at me softly. He looked at me like he was asking if I was okay.
From that day on, he has been gentle with me. He's been there for me. My wolf. My protector. My mate.
I snap back from my thoughts to my phone on my lap, vibrating. I look at the notification, reading my mate's name on the top. "Sweetheart, there's something going on at the games, I'm okay but I'm going to try and find out info on what's going on and how I can help. I love you." Sent two hours ago. The interference with the ward must have slowed the text down.
Frantically dodging the people in the crowd as I slip by them. I look around, trying to find Milo in the sea of people crying and talking over one another. Mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, and friends sit in the cafeteria of the school. Some calling, many legs bouncing, parents pacing. I look around the tables, hoping to see any familiar faces.
I stop in my tracks, seeing a familiar figure in the crowd. Brown hair, Brooklyn accent, black t-shirt with the name [GREER] across the shoulder blades. I stand there, crying in relief. My voice quakes.
"Milo!"
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The End!!
#redacted verse#redacted fandom#redacted fanfic#redacted asmr#redacted audio#redacted#redacted sweetheart#redactedverse#redacted milo
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Hey I'm the sasusaku fan reading Kaika Sasei. Thank you for the answer I'm looking forward. By the way, can you link here the written version? You have so many chapters written and I wanna know more before reading the manga.
I was hoping you could pick up fan's ideas, wish you could check out inosakutema they're a great trio though. I see that you plan to stay true to Kishimoto and I can pick up on the Temari situation with Sakura in Suna. (Hope it's the clinic!!).
Speaking of the clinic I can't wait to see your version of it. Boruto leaves me wanting for some more head of medical department Sakura. It's so simplified and boring, she's your average healer only when plot needs her and it's so boring only the same jutsu. It's like she ain't the world's strongest kunoichi and its best medical ninja.
I might be a loyal sasusaku but I'm not too hostile on Karin, I think she's really useful as a sensor and her sensory is the best in the world, I don't get how people downplay them. Hopefully you can find a spot for her in Konoha as their leader of Barrier.
I was sad when you didn't give any details about Hanabi. Neji was my favorite character and the only escape to his absence I could find is Hanabi, she's the best in Boruto all things considered (the story is trash). If you follow Kishimoto writing then I can rest assured she will lead her clan like I've been waiting for them to show already.
Hi there! Welcome back! 🤗
So, I have multiple formats for the written version.
I have it pretty much everywhere: my blog in storybook format on chatte-georgiana.com
This post here has a table of contents with all of them: https://chatte-georgiana.com/2020/10/25/kaika-saisei-naruto-au-after-the-war-sakura-haruno-centric/
Then, if you want, depending on what you’re most used to I have it on:
FFnet: https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13771214/1/Kaika-Saisei (this one for some reason ruined some of the formatting and no matter what I try it won’t save the modificatiosn)
AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28149138/chapters/68971716
Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/1063652674-kaika-saisei-chapter-1-every-end-is-a-new
So, depending on what you like most, pick your favorite. 😁
Now to the next part of your question, regarding fan ideas and whatnot… to be honest I try to stay as far away as possible from that because at the end of the day this is the vision I have over her development & I’m writing it based on old theories I had regarding her. Which ironically came true partially and didn’t come true at the same time. It’s like Schroedinger’s cat situation lol.
From what you’re telling me there’s plenty of that in the original series though? Like I said, I’m trying my best to stay as far away from it, although I will have a certain reference to it at some point in the story. But that’ll come when it’ll come and that’s all I’m going to say about it cuz I don’t want to spoil. 😁
Of course there might be certain similarities to original due to the fact that certain things have been discussed in the fandom prior to the ending, so what the publisher did was take those ideas and put them into the actual story, lol. It’s more than clear at this point they’re scanning the fandom for ideas. But anyway, moving in from that….
As for the writing, yeah, I’m trying to stay as close as possible to Kishimoto’s writing though. I’m sure you’ll enjoy the Sakura/Temari thing I have in mind because in a way it’s not very far from what you’re telling me, it’s just that it’s maybe a different angle, let’s say.
As for the clinic, I’m sure you’ll enjoy it purely from the angle of Sakura being highly underutilized in OG material.
Like trust me, I tried giving Boruto a chance even if I was mad at the ending. I said ok, if the writing is good then I’ll give it a chance because at the end of the day, I can appreciate something good even if it’s not my preferred taste. But sadly, the way the franchise treats her it’s just lamentable, imo.
Medical ninjutsu used to be so much fun & intricate, but OG material just stuck to its ever used green aura type of thing and that’s it.
That’s precisely why in Kaika I did my best to try and give it the respect it deserves. Ofc, I might not do it 100% okay either, but at least I’ll try my best to go past the green glow. 🤷♀️
As for Karin, buckle up and think if this is going to be or not an impediment to you because as I said, this is going to be SK story in the end as well, not just NS. As I’ve said, I’m a big fan of the symbolism & mirroring Kishi did with them, so I’m planning on playing that out in Kaika as well.
I can understand how that might not be someone’s cup of tea, but I’ve always been real about what this story will be in terms of pairings.
As for her & Konoha sensory, well, I have let’s say other plans. At the moment Karin is very well focused on discovering more about her Uzumaki roots. And that’s all I will say for now. 👀
As for Hanabi, sorry, must’ve escaped my mind. In Kaika she’s currently the heiress of the Hyuga and as you’ll see from the written version, there’s some subplot involving her, a treasured Hyuga secret & the complications of being the heiress & having access to such a secret and trying to mend the relationship with her sister. But anyway, read the written version and you’ll see for yourself.
And as I said, in Kaika, Neji Hyuga will be brought back to the cast. 👀
As for the details of how that’ll happen, all I can say is just to follow the story. 👀🤭
Anyway, thanks once again for your interest in Kaika. Highly appreciated! 🙏 Hope you enjoy the written version! 😊
#kaika saisei#narusaku#sakura haruno#karin uzumaki#naruto#hanabi hyuga#naruto au#naruto fancomic#kaika au
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Author Ask Tag
If you know me and my presence here, it should come as no surprise that I love talking about the stuff I write. So, when @mthollowell-writes tagged me in this thing, I wasn't going to say no.
1 What is the main lesson of your story (e.g. kindness, diversity, anti-war), and why did you choose it?
The Clockwork Boy and the series I hope it becomes is a story about unity and collaboration. The forces arrayed against them are considerable, but since both The Spire and The Clockmen are filled with inveterate backstabbers, the scrappy underdog of Jake, Adrian, and The Northwest has a fighting chance, not only for survival but the future of the city. My "thesis" if you will is that The Spire and The Clockmen are doomed to fail in the long run because the glue that holds them together is that the participants can each profit from each other's strength. This means that nobody has an incentive to show weakness, lest they be judged unworthy of the group, and nothing resembling mutual trust can develop. The Northwest and the rest of "team hero," on the other side, rely on each other to compensate for their weaknesses and vulnerabilities which inherently builds trust.
This theme emerged from the place I held in life when writing the initial draft, I believe. I was, and am in many ways still in a fairly vulnerable spot in my life. I am seeking treatment for both physical and mental health problems as well as employment despite challenges in the above-mentioned departments. It's easy for me to feel self-conscious about having to rely on external factors such as doctors and other healthcare professionals, but I have found much solace in the works of the effervescent Philosophy Tube, and one of her older videos, in particular, have shaped this insecurity into some neat thematic stuff in the book I write, for which I am eternally grateful.
2 What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding (like real-life cultures, animals, famous media, websites, etc.)?
A lot of the world of Hearts In Clockwork has been inspired by colonial-era Europe, England in particular, but I am aiming more for a wider pastiche than a direct reference. There's also some bits of steam punk aesthetics to the setting, but due to severe disruptions of the coal supply, much of the borderline impossible steam-powered technology is mostly for show.
3 What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them? Do you want to inspire others, teach forgiveness, help readers grow as a person?
My main characters are still kind of figuring out their place in the world around them per the last book, so their needs are very personal. Jake wants to belong somewhere and 13/Adrian wants to know who he was before becoming a Clockman, or barring that what kind of a person he wants to be now that he is free. It is my goal to transition these goals into grander goals as the series progresses, as Jake is motivated to oppose The Spire and The Clockmen by his bonds with Adrian and The Northwest, and Adrian attempts to end the conflict brewing in the setting as nonviolently as possible in direct defiance of his original design. I base this progression on the idea that problems, even some problems viewed as personal, might be best solved by trying to change the world in some way. It is a counterargument to the "Clean Your Room"-crowd, I suppose.
4 How many chapters is your story going to have?
The Clockwork Boy currently sits on 24 chapters and one epilog chapter. It's approximately where I want it lengthwise.
5 Is it fanfiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it?
It is original content. My goal is to get it published, preferrably through a smaller indie outfit.
6 When and why did you start writing?
This question is a bit ambigious. If it's when I started writing period, I've done it as long as I've known how to. My motivations have never been entirely clear to me, but I do believe it comes from a need to be seen and heard in some way.
As far as when and why I got into The Clockwork Boy, I started that during National Novel Writing Month in November 2022. My initial motivation was frankly that I hadn't found any genre novels with intrigue, politics and a gay romance in a while, so I decided to try writing one myself.
7 Do you have any words of engagement for fellow writers of Writeblr? What other writers of Tumblr do you follow?
Like Share And Subscribe Seriously though, this is the most useful piece of advice I've ever gotten so I'm going to pass it along:
Your Writing Is Probably Fine, you've just been staring at it for Too Long.
as well as
If it doesn't Feel Like A Book that's just because you recognize that you wrote it. Other readers will not have that problem.
As for my Pound of Tags: @covenscribe, @stesierra, @leisoree, @hollyannewrites @ettawritesnstudies
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Notes for Chapter 2 of Sanguis
Valak can't heal Irene without the ritual because he is too disturbed by emotion. Due to his distress, his power malfunctions. In a twisted way, it's the sign of his true love for her. He feels dizzy and gets a nosebleed for the same reason.
Spartacus isn't actually a horse. Read the Key of Solomon.
The ritual may be named "Blood Incantation" in English. As you might have guessed, it is meant for an evil spirit, or a powerful sorcerer/sorceress, to save a mortal dearly beloved. Think "witch steals beauty from a fair maiden" fairytale trope, but instead of a witch stealing beauty and/or youth for herself, it's a demon stealing the life and health of someone, for someone. The sacrifice must mirror the receiver exactly, that's why Valak chooses a pregnant woman. The one who performs the ritual uses an enormous amount of his/her life force, so Valak ends up in agony. Don't worry, he's fine. The ritual is meant to be performed in a dire situation, thus improvisation is key. It is also made up. Do not try it at home. If you do, I will not give a cent for your bail. 😉 Also, I better not hear any complaints about inaccuracy. I did not base it on anything. It's Conjurverse fanfiction. Creative liberties, darling.
Now, the Latin... I'm very, very sorry for any mistakes I made. I'm learning the language. Besides, I'm much better at translating from Latin than to it. For this reason, the sentences in Latin are... Simplified. To say the least.
"Carissima" means Dearest.
"Amice vetus" means old friend.
"Mane!" means stay.
Here's the translation for the ritual:
"In the Name of Satan, the Antichrist, and the Spirit of Evil, I call upon the Power of Hell. (3x)
Rise!
I, Valak, President of Hell, the Defiler, the Profane, the Marquis of Snakes, command you!
O Power Unholy! O Will Infernal! O Madness and Wrath! O Darkness and Fire! Heed my blood, you are mine!
Satan Almighty, Bringer of Light, Pray for me, as I cut my heart open, for my heart is no longer my own, it is hers. Pray for me, Great Dragon, as I rip out my insides, for my blood is no longer my own, it is his. Pray for me, Lord of Hell and Earth, as I throw myself upon the sword, for my life is no longer my own, it is theirs.
Mortal flesh becomes Divine. Earth and bone become God. Dust become the Stars. Stand by me, Satan, stand by me, Father.
Blood for Blood. Heart for Heart. Life for Life. My word becomes flesh.
Blood, I invoke you! Heart, I invoke you! Life, I invoke you!
Heed my Blood. Heed my Name. Heed my Command. You are yoked to my Will.
With the Strength of me, I bestow you. With the Wrath of me, I ignite you. With the Power of me, I enforce you. With the Love of me, I enchant you. With the Will, of me, I bind you!
May Christ and all his Apostles be Cursed
Depart.
I, Valak, President of Hell, the Defiler, the Profane, the Marquis of Snakes, command you.
Farewell"
Valak asking Satan to pray for him equals a plea for his support during the gruelling ceremony. And I can't resisit references, so...
I think that's all major points explained.... You know, should I take another few years with the next chapter. Or forever. If you have any questions, or want any spoilers, just toss me an ask, or a message! 😁 I love ranting about my stories. 😈
#the conjuring#the conjuring fandom#the nun#the conjuring fanfiction#the nun fanfiction#fanwork#the conjuring fanwork#the nun fanwork#valak#sister irene#valak/sister irene#valak x sister irene#death and the maiden#otp#romance#writing#my writing#pages stained in tears and whisky#ao3 writer#my fic#ao3fic#horror#horror fanfiction#chapter notes#sanguis tenebrarum#it has been a long time#of course I couldn't be a normal person an write everything in english#i wasn't sober and was very tired when I wrote this... the notes reflect it 🤣
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The Visitation by Frank Peretti
(9.5 out of 10! Love yourself enough not to watch the film adaptation, thank you~)
Sparrow insisted that this is one of the best books he'd ever read. I was surprised upon reading the description because Sparrow is also openly agnostic and uncomfortable with organised religion. I knew even this fact was worth me stepping outside of my usual genres and into Christian fiction, but I couldn't predict how universal the plot points would be.
The plot is mostly from the third person POV of a retired pastor, Travis Jordan, in the small town of Antioch. He's recently widowed, depressed, and hardly taking care of himself. Then, nearby, a statue of the Virgin Mary starts to weep and the population whips itself into a nearly mob-like frenzy as they discover the tears actually have instant healing properties. Arthritis is instantly soothed, paralysed limbs become mobile. Then people begin to see 'Jesus in the clouds.' And then, right on time, a mysterious stranger looking a lot like Jesus, 'Brandon Nichols', shows up and performs healing miracles. This promptly forms a cult of people who believe they are now personally involved in the Second ComingTM.
The cult aspect, of course, is what I find uniquely fascinating about this story. Not only is the town referring to Nichols as Jesus, but local Mary Donovon convinces herself that she is actually the Virgin Mary reborn. She even starts referring to when she raised Nichols/Jesus fondly, just seemingly making up random stories that seem straight out of a Bible 'slice of life' fanfiction. You even had a John the Baptist. Everyone just gathered around Nichols and started LARPing as Bible characters, which turns into a realistic combination of laughable and eerie. The most memorable moment for me is Mary, dressed in robes in the grocery store, when someone asks how she's doing. "My soul doth magnify the lord. And behold! These peas are on sale."
Travis, despite his embittered state towards the idea of 'Taking Antioch for Jesus' isn't buying Nichols' scheme, so much of his plotline is discovering Nichols' fascinating hidden past and also recounting his long, fraught journey into preaching. His gruff but cheeky point of view added just the right amount of humour to what can be considered a harrowing tale. One of my favourite lines: "Kyle wasn't just an accident waiting to happen. He was a disaster trying to happen."
Honestly, this was sublime if you're Christian, agnostic, or even religiously traumatised. Peretti's antagonists use the idea of God to sow chaos and create horrifying abuses of power. And his protagonist uses his own belief in God to try to take down the false Messiah/abusive cult leader. It speaks a lot about religious trauma---What happened to Nichols at the hands of a pastor is horrific, but Travis Jordan had also had his fair share of toxicity within the church. From uncaring, prayer-factory super churches to stuffy, tenured preachers that want nothing to do with change, even (or especially if) it hinders progress. There were also repeated references in Travis only wanting to preach the word of God, but how his fellow churchmates just devolved into wailing in tongues. He and his allies were a refreshing rational voice in the sea of spiritual frenzy and obsession.
Not to mention, everything about Nichols was eerie. His charisma, his bursts of anger as the mask slips, his apparent omniscience, his sickeningly ironic backstory, his powers. The author could have made him cartoonishly evil and made this a typical 'Christians vanquish the actual devil', but he made Nichols relatable not only to the religiously traumatised, but also the protagonist himself. There were so many layers to this book and I'll be thinking about it from years to come.
-Xanthe
SPOILERS BEYOND THIS POINT
I did have just a few minor problems with some of the narration. The reader is led to guess early on that Travis' departed wife may be the reason he stepped down from being the Pentecostal pastor. But even with the dozen or more flashbacks that depict the lead-up to their relationship, I didn't really see it give insight into why Marian's death caused Travis to resign. Was it because prayer couldn't save her? But I thought he'd learned that lesson early on with some of his church members? There seems to be a huge blank between her death and his life as a jaded but knowledgeable former pastor.
I also wish there was more of a follow-up to the day that this cult tore the town apart. I want to know how families reconciled, I want to know where everyone else was a year from the incident, I want more information about those who died that day and its general impact. Seeing Travis remarry was cute and all, but you had demons tearing dogs apart and an electronic store that blew up, I want to read more about that!
#the visitation#frank peretti#book review#religious trauma#cults#christian fiction#the film was honestly pathetic
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About Internet Water Army in the case
This is an ongoing update about the case from start to development. List of all related posts can be found on this blog's pinned post (link provided at bottom of each post as well).
19 August 2021 update: Added the scale of his success for reference, before bonus below
18 August 2021 update: Added timeline of events, orange title in post, found out the official English term for Immoral Media = Internet Water Army)
Major updates since first draft: Added bonus, added disclaimer, certain info details
Originally posted on 16 August 2021
[The purpose of this post is to provide a perspective as to why the Media is raised/blamed regarding the issue. Especially for international fans, as all the encounters happened on Weibo. Also, those who were on weibo, do read through if you will. So although it's lengthy, do try to read all, at least if not the last two parts].
The Media referred by most, is not the common perception of the Entertainment Industry (celebrities, directors, shows, channels, staff etc), but the dark side of the Entertainment industry: Antis, toxic fans, toxic marketing accounts. They are called Internet Water Army💧.
Toxic Marketing Accounts is one of the things they do, these accounts on Weibo has millions of followers, each of their post likes are in the hundred thousands (buyable) to give credibility to passer-bys. Some use similar names to Official accounts, some use similar logos. Their posts are usually subjective or aims to steer view points of a certain celebrity/movie/show. Before the latest update of this post (18.08.21), I just group them all together and term them as Immoral Media*.
*Below is my original post using my original term because at point of first draft, I did not know the official term (so have changed/added the term from Immoral Media to Internet Water Army in content below but retain the content based off first draft).
If you have chased before celebrities, or just simply passed by an article about certain celebrities, recall how some title that caught your attentions were like. Clickbaits is one of the many things they do. If GZ is your first and you do not have Weibo, then this read(link) is good enough.
Just as the term Immoral Media (Internet Water Army), it’s immoral and unethical, but they exists because they are paid to do so. Who pays them? Entertainment Companies, and maybe other Organisations
Normal Media/Marketing vs Immoral Media/Toxic Marketing/Internet Water Army
When a show or movie comes out, the normal Marketing department will generate outreach and buzz so that people know a show is airing soon/know the show exists etc. Official announcements are not enough, because there isn’t much context (limited content to put up as well) so having some other Marketing accounts do the buzz in a planned period to gain awareness through posts, some articles about the casts, the plot summary, the production details etc is normal. This is Marketing, bigger companies will probably have stronger Marketing departments (aka influence) and can hire more Marketing accounts to generate buzz. Celebrities (aka casts) themselves, are also Marketing point.
Then we have the Internet Water Army/Immoral Media, these are what they mainly do:
Create Fanfiction-rumors: Creating rumors about celebrities to shift audience perception of them. [eg. XX was seen with XX leaving a hotel, XX was drunk on Event Y and did ZZZ to AA, XX is dating BB and has been in a relationship for N years etc]
Honing their brain degrading skills: Come up with titled clickbait headings/ trending topics with negative written contents. For articles, exceptionally out of heading content related to the celebrity. [Refer to Baidu, it’s a winner of these, feel free to Google Translate]
Regressing their common sense and understanding skills: Take everything a celebrity does completely out of context in a negative way and create a topic out of it [eg. XX said AA is a ---, “XX raised his finger, a sign of ---?”, XX pushed BB aggressively on Variety Show Y - A competition variety show, XX is in beef with CC because XX was caught giving CC the eye]
Using their fingers to stir shit and bathe each other in it: Escalate all smallest form of possible tension created by fans/themselves into a huge thing by acting as the fandom's fans/lurk in fandom chat groups, and voicing their disguised opinion to spread tension/exaggerate severity of the issue [eg. XX fans mocked AA - in groupchats: tbh I've never liked AA before, AA just gives off a vibe that I dont like and now this? It just disgusts me even more > Yea, i feel this way too. AA has problems / XX Lurkers expressing views on XX about NN, slowly to NNMHFXW - XX did NNMHGT - I cannot accept NNmHfHw, I'm leaving = multiply by 1000++]
Epitome of a self-deteriorate: Creating something out of nothing and react to that something negatively to gain massive attention/reaction [eg. “XX raised his hand on show Y” - dk what XX fans are thinking, are they literally blind? XX fans are tasteless just like XX hahaha / “XX did community service” - they are acting / “XX breathed” - From the start, i thought XX was NN, but I am so ZZZ that XX breathed. Goodbye fandom, i’m leaving. Those who still want to stay I urge you to rethink your life choices] - if I may add, Xiao Zhan’s fanfiction case as well.
Metaphor - Ability to use bare hands to collect paychecks from the urinal/toilet bowl where their boss/client peed in: Doing all of the above.
Apologies for any term offense, but not apologetic of the term context. This is what they do for a living. Any normal human being who do not like anything, will generally not be interested at anything about it in the first place, so to have some antis/toxic fans knowing certain things and inside jokes/references in their posts questions their goal.
On involved in Internet Water Army/Immoral Media 💧
Fans on weibo during these few months witnessed many of the above on GZ. From rumored girlfriend (spammed with articles) to mean and nasty comments on trending topics, to bouts of insults and fake emotional cryouts by certain fan accounts that GZ's office has to release a number of Lawyer’s letter to them.
Aside from WOH there were also a few other BL adaptation films that were actually released this year but they did not reach exponential success like WOH. BL adaptations are so highly followed by because this is the key to wealth. Literally. Successful BLs like The Untamed and Dao Mu Bi Ji saw the amount of wealth fans are willing to spend on the celebrity as compared to say BG or idols (younger fan groups). This is why when WOH shot up exponentially, Immoral Media start to sweat.
Major anticipated adaptations were supposed to air this year eg. Hao Yi Xing(HYX), Sha Po Lang(SPL) etc but was severely held back due to the stricter change in BL adaptations submitting their scripts for approval regulations (WOH manage to submit earlier before the change). Because of this, most final films were rejected and they have to keep re-editing, by then WOH was already months into reaping tonnes of major brand endorsements, shows/movie casting, variety show appearances etc, something that is seen as too successful in the Immoral Media’s eyes, because they have to create buzz for other celebrities, some are specific celebrity oriented and thus circulate rumors about having endorsement opportunities shifted from celebrity X to GZ (think fanfiction-rumors and shit stirrer) causes tension in celebrity fandoms. - A real event just in July:
The Untamed’s cp fandom is called BJYX which had always been in the Top 1 of Cps for 2 years dropped for awhile to Top 2, over taken by LLD. Both of them had a war and hated each fandom, one fandom is somehow not allowed to like the other fandom even casually after everything broke out because it started out with some BJYX toxics photoshopped GZ on of portraits .
Also another case of which he wore the same costume as WYB did in a previous photoshoot and it became a useless comparison of who wore better, who looks better, degrading the other. (Finger stirring shit).
Now apply all of the above things the Internet Water Army do and we have them earning money, while both fandom reacts and hate each other.
In LLD, our own fans started suspecting each other on who is a spy from BJYX and what not.
The first few months of Internet Water Army saw LLDs mostly mocking them because the average age is 30-40s, they know and see through all of their intentions so nothing was big. They were trumpeting and LLDs didn’t even care, what with all the doing tedious stats was not even important to them.
Over time, as the issues they create became more and more serious LLDs did start to care, reporting Toxic Marketing accounts/toxic fans became a daily task, go vote for GZ at certain polls etc, solo fans, and LLD fans also split apart. Solo fans think cp fans use GZ to furnish their fantasies, and cp fans thinks they are the ones furnishing their dreaming-girls fantasy with (aka my boyfriend).
There was also a period where LLD had a habit of continuously mentioning “we are in the 30-40s so we can see through everything about the media, we are all fans for the first time, we are good at spending money (because of purchase power compared to other fandoms)” it was prevalent for so long it felt odd, ‘chasing celebrities the first time’ in particular sounds more vulnerable as a weakness than a strength / sth to be proud of.
Gradually, more secretive/insider confirmed ‘sweets’ were flying around. Fans advised each other to not circulate, and the mindset of “if you know, you know, dont tell.” (This is a problematic mentality, of which fans will still be curious to know and search for it themselves, but this secretive hook is unhealthy. Over the long term, it becomes hard for existing fans to know a lot of things properly to judge for themselves, especially those who knew and publicly reacted, but blasting those who ask and telling those who know to keep quiet, this did not help some to understand why on certain things, even so for international fans, dont know and dont understand, causing misunderstandings. Yes, certain information should not be shared, so why should you react about it publicly in the first place? - Internet Water Army effect)
The last few months (for example the July fan war) created a tonne of seriousness and anger. A period even broke out with a tonne of ‘insider confirmed sweets’ (which is LLD’s daily dose of happiness), it was hard to tell what was real and what was fake. Trending topics became negative and everyone warned each other not to enter because it will give the trends ‘views’ and trend statistics, in reality entering there is to enter an exhibition by the self-deteriorates, collecting the fandom's traffic data (it's a sure lose for fans each time they enter the topic). Everyone even starts thinking that the trend’s popularity was caused by each other (it's true but it can be bought daily and not caused by fans). There was a raise in the number of fans who were getting emotional because they want to protect but Internet Water Army kept coming and got worse, because fans, tbh, not just GZ fans, every other celebrity’s fans are always fighting with an Army, getting played and plotted in that Army's calendar.
Even so, despite all of these, LLD is actually a fandom Internet Water Army may find the hardest to break because they understand GZ so much, they could tell what are fake news regarding GZ, because among everything above, there are still plenty of logical fans to stop many fans from drifting too far and debunking them. Why? 30-40s are grown up adults.
Why 13.8.21 and the Japan issue is plotted?
First of all, in the political climate of China, there are many political dates in a month that is NO-Entertainment news. Because it’s the honoring of certain important political events. It’s like Remembrance Day, thus the sensitivity is higher. On these days, there are usually no news and even the Internet Water Army zip their pants. This year also marks the 100th year of the Chinese Communist Party(link)
Secondly, he had no work schedule on 13 August 2021. A great full day to focus on any other news (because if he had schedules, everyone will turn their attention to his events, what trumpeting outside is just bird chirps).
Thirdly, when the news broke out, especially about the shrine, the reception was actually quite serious within the fandom so the scale of this might be big but to what extent in reality?
Lastly, 15.8.21 marks the 76th anniversary of the announcement of surrender of Japanese in World War 2(link). Also a day of NO-Entertainment news.
Timeline of events:
13.8.21 - [His rest day, Eve of Chinese Valentine's Day, Japan News broke out] His rest day, no schedules = increased attention about him online. Lowered guard among fans because they are getting ready for tomorrow's Chinese Valentine's sweets = Caught off guard = Huge break out of fans' reactions
14.8.21 - [Chinese Valentine's Day, Eve of the 75th Anniversary of the announcement of Japanese surrender] Keep a wishful and happy demenaor to not destroy the mood, suppressed thoughts about ZZH's Japan news
15.8.21 - [75th Anniversary of the announcement of Japanese surrender, Official announcement of ZZH's boycott and all China social media account ban] NO-Entertainment news day, Solemn day, not allowed to voice anything so the fandom can only wait for tomorrow to start voicing out/debunking but before they can wait out, the boycott and social media ban happened, every official accounts about him was gone overnight, fans had no time to react
17.8.21 - [All official fandom accounts related to ZZH and JunZhe were locked/removed]
Forced to be silent since the day his matter broke out, over the course of official news release with everything taken down in a day because of the Japan correspondence, his accounts banned overnight across the Chinese media and the overnight cancellation, fans could not speak anything about it. Overnight cancellation like this scale happened for the first time in China, leaving no time to react by the fandom, by the time they can, they are silenced.
When the period of events occured within a set of special dates, it’s not coincidence.
Conclusion
Because he was too successful and had many actually honorable past things, and a hard to influence fandom, Internet Water Army view him as a huge threat enough to want to destroy him, because it’s hard to defeat. With a chance they have, they will hold it till the end, bringing up this issue to the Government during this period also shows a sign of how scared they were of him and perhaps his fandom to plot something like this.
Updated on 19 August: Here's a screenshot of assumed calculation on the scale of GZ success for reference while chatting with a fellow fan, assuming GJ also has 27 brands, and there are 1000 brands. Rationale of numbers used: Only big brands can hire big celebrities.
Bonus
Mentioned in the first post, will mention again in case. After the news broke out within 2 days, there was a drop on his weibo followers from 18.9mil to 18.7mil. 200k+ drops, if the politics was such a big national issue, there should at least be a huge drop, even at least a million right? Because weibo is a China-Chinese majority right? Nope, we get a puny 200k drop.
What's funny? The self-deteroriates:
Translation: "Are his fans bought? Why didnt he drop fans? Those people got brainwashed to this point?" / "I've never entered his weibo and today i feel like having a look yet it showed I've followed him. All his fans were bought right? It disgusts me, i immediately unfollowed. This kind of process is worse than WYF..." / "i dropped fans because of him...no...I just reposted 2 posts and I've dropped 4 fans?"
Isn't the tone and regressing brain cells, all too familiar and same?
//
Added above, will remind again to read this link. It has an even more in-depth knowledge on who are paying them.
So what should we do? Link here
Related posts 🛏️:
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so this isn't really "x reader" stuff, but you made me think about it again and I wanna talk so - my friends and I in high school all had our own self-insert ocs for Bleach. Each of us was the kid of two canon characters. We had our own "canon" AU that accounted for us and our affect on the Bleach universe. Unfortnuately almost none of it was written down, and I'm not friends with any of them anymore :(
Aaaah I’m sorry you lost what I’m sure were absolute relics! It’s always fun looking back like that but it’s also bittersweet since you’re usually not going to be so connected with the friends you had in highschool. So I completely feel you.
Looking back, there’s a lot of stuff I wish I kept from high school, too. A friend and I had a Bleach AU where there was an American equivalent of Soul Society and it was amazing to work on even if it was absolute crack.
Everyone of our OCs were mostly horrible because we surmised America SS would have turned their version of Gotei 13 into celebrities. We were literally ahead of our time in the ‘cynical lens pointed toward celebrated heros’ department.
I distinctly remember one of my favorite OCs had basically grown up in the system (similar to Hitsugaya, she rose in ranks very young). Like, she was so used to cameras always being on her that she thought Hell Butterflies were weird video cameras feeding to an audience and would smile and wave for them and act Her Best around them.
I can’t remember who she was talking to (I think it may have actually been Hitsugaya) but they were kind of telling her off for doing something useless like ‘the butterflies don’t understand’ and she explains and they’re just kind of speechless.
We had notebooks full of this shit and it’s all unfortunately gone but there was some stuff that I distinctly remember just because I was so fond of it.
I would also make scenarios for my friends on the spot. Like, they would ask me to write a fic and instead I would sit there and jot down basics on where I wanted the story to go and just make it up and tell it to them right then and there. They would ask questions or give suggestions; basically just bounce ideas, and it would spiral into hours of just weaving a ‘how this character and you would meet and do this and do that’
At the time I had no idea what headcanons or x reader stuff was because it wasn’t common to see it yet. The only frame of reference I had for self insert stuff was fanfiction and quizilla quizzes.
Most of the magic was in being creative and fully present with people just as passionate about something as me, though, so it was a blast.
Like, maybe it’s worth it to try and write stuff down you remember but it was still great that you did it at all, you know?
#tbh when you’re younger you’re usually so unafraid of being cringe that you do amazing things with your creativity#like the sky is the limit you can do anything everything you create with your friends is genius#that’s the energy I miss#I do still have some friends from school that write fics and we talk but it’s not the same bc we don’t have the time or energy anymore#sometimes we get very close to the hay days tho#unfortunately no one loves Bleach like me still wtf where did their taste go#obviously that’s a joke they gained taste and I stayed behind in the DIRT#I bet I could achieve full velocity creative cringe again tbh#time and space can only stop me for so long
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How do you characterize so well, I am under so much stress to write them properly that the rest of the story comes out flat, but you do it so effortlessly and that is amazing
omg wtf this is actually one of the sweetest asks ive ever gotten!!! hello!!!!
first of all, thank you for the compliment ;-;! i'm always unsure of my characterization and interpretation, so it really does mean a lot. I kinda explain my process under the cut so if this was just a compliment and you weren't actually asking you're welcome to skip it got a little lengthy sorry 😭 THANK you so much for being such a sweetie.
my biggest tip really is to study the source material as much as you can. For the tales gang, I never interacted with fandom until literally last year- I only ever referred to canon and the source material. Fanon had absolutely no touch on how I wrote them and even with things that take place post-tales, I try to take sure that the original characters can still shine through.
For example, with my post BL3 Rhys, I use both canon BL3 stuff and Tales (I favor tales characterization for obvious reasons). We see Rhys throughout tales to be emotional and borderline hot-headed at times. he has moments of idiocy and moments where it's just plain stupidity, but we also see him shine through as smart. You can sort of chalk up a lot of 'stupid' moments to him just being straight-up inexperienced with Pandora cause, and the key here, he's never been on the planet.
So for my future writings, I always make sure that Rhys is never really displayed as stupid- because he's not. He has moments that come off as silly or stupid, but never is he as a character such.
Spoilers for my Timothy coming to Atlas fic, but when Timothy shows up, Rhys is emotional at first! He's angry that someone like Timothy had the audacity to show up and he's defensive because he's scared. But then, very quickly, he's able to put the pieces together and realize that just like Fiona had said, he was a victim too. He's able to find a place for him to stay and figure out a lot of things really quick. He's emotional and smart -> just like you see in Tales, look at the scene where Jack is about to kill him, he has a moment of emotional 'lapse' before he's able to finish him off once and for all. (Different scenes entirely, but you get my gist.)
Now, there's some exceptions to this rule and mainly I apply it to... weak and bad writing. Biggest example for me is how I write Katagawa. Again, if you're unaware, his entire character is built on a foundation of racism and fetishization. In order to combat this, I rip all of that horrible shit out and see what I'm left with- and in this case, I see (and the lovely @katagawajr pointed these all out to me) a 20 something year old guy with a barcode on his neck and a history of familial neglect-> you see he reaches to Rhys for brotherhood because he believes the man "worthy" to be such because of his drive up the corporate ladder (see: ingrained thinking from being born into a literal company). From this point, I can make safe assumptions and kinda dig my heels into his character that you can (hopefully!) see in my writing.
You say it comes out flat and I think my biggest tip for that is to add less personality in the writing and more in the action and backgrounds department! Less "X was angry" and more "X crossed their arms, tilting their head with a furrow of their brows". When you add more emotion that way, it can help the fluidity of your writing.
Sorry, I ranted a little!!! But yes, I think it's really important to study the characters you want to get down right. Read up on the wikia, on deleted lines, watch cutscenes and really study who you're writing. As always, fanfiction is meant to be fun :) You can define the lines yourself and take my advise, but please remember this is a for fun thing. No one is judging you and no one is critiquing you but yourself. So try to keep that in mind.
much love as always <3
#asks#seriously i hope this helps a little and i truly do not mind asks of this caliber at all ;;-;;!!#again a reminder though Im NOT a professional english person i swear i just started writing fanfic when i was 17 for fun#but i like to think im okay at it so if you have more questiosn or anything pls hmu <3
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Missing in Action
Request: Can you write a fanfic where Hotch's daughter gets kidnapped and Hotch and his team have to find her?
A/N: Thanks for the request, anon! This is my first Hotch request and I usually don’t write for Hotch but everyone needs a lil challenge here and there right? I’ve decided to make this a two parter because I love suspense and since they asked for a fanfiction imma give them a fanfiction. Hey, it might even be three parts who knows? Hopefully y’all enjoy it, I’ve watched a lot of The FBI Files lately so I’m adding a ~sprinkle~ of that in here as well. I was very nervous while writing this but hopefully it’s decent 😬 p.s. I put y/n still so you can insert yourself as Hotch’s daughter if you’d like or create a name whatever floats your boat
Category: Angst
Content warning: Kidnapping, mention of violence, crime scene, blood
Word count: 2.5k
————-
Hotch packed up his briefcase for the day. He had promised his daughter he would pick her up from soccer practice. He had also promised her and Jack they would go out for dinner since they hadn’t done so in months. He had instructed Jack to meet his older sister at the soccer field after his school book club meeting was over.
He looked at the time on his watch and saw it was quarter to six. The two of them were probably already ridiculing him because of his tardiness. He checked his phone to see if she had texted him complaining yet. There was no notification which caused him to raise an eyebrow. Y/N was usually very vocal about her dad being late when he was the one always telling them about being punctual.
To his surprise his phone started to ring. For an instant, he thought it could have been Y/N calling him but the caller ID said Unknown Caller. He hesitantly answered it, anxious to know who would be on the other line. Before he could even greet the other person on the line, he heard Jack’s voice yelling in a panic.
“Jack, buddy, slow down. What do you mean your sister was taken?” Hotch asked.
The next few words Jack told him sounded unreal to him. His mind couldn’t process even the slightest possibility of Jack’s story to be true. Jack had seen a black car pull up at the corner of the sidewalk where his sister was standing waiting for him. He was just a block away when he saw a man jump out of the backseat and grab Y/N. He shoved her in the back and then the driver sped off.
“Jack, where are you right now? You’re at school? Okay, stay there for now. The police are at the scene right now? Okay, okay, I’ll be there soon. Bye.”
He hung up the phone and for once didn’t know where to begin. His mind was racing in overtime trying to think of who it possibly could be, if Y/N was okay and how long he had to find her. He ran out of his office to go towards the bullpen. He watched as everyone stared at him in confusion as he tried to form the right words to tell them.
Everyone had already packed up for the day and were almost on their way out by the time Hotch came to them. The look on his face was one they hadn’t seen since Haley’s death. They anticipated the worst to words to leave Hotch’s mouth.
“Y/N was kidnapped. We have to act now.”
Every single team member’s face filled with dread as they realized how little time they had to find Y/N safe. With no other words exchanged between anyone they made their way to the briefing room. Hotch let everyone walk in front of him as he still tried his best to comprehend the whole situation.
He felt someone gently touch his shoulder. He turned around to see Rossi looking at him with his famous look of determination. It was visible to him Hotch was in a place of discouragement that he had to break out of if he wanted to get his daughter.
“We’ll find her, Aaron,” Rossi said.
“We realistically only have two and a half hours before the possibility of finding her alive becomes slim. We have to make a move on these sons of bitches now,” Hotch said.
Rossi nodded. “Let’s do it.”
They made their way into the briefing room as soon as Garcia pulled up phone records from Y/N phone. Hotch sat down as he analyzed the screen in silence, checking every phone number to see if there was one out of place. His eyebrow raised as he saw a number he didn’t recognize and it only showed up once in her call log. She had ignored the call and according to the time the call was made she was taken about five minutes after.
“Garcia, can you check if the last number on her call log is anywhere else in her call or text history?” Hotch asked.
“Of course, sir,” she said before searching for the number.
She pulled up a text message sent to Y/N. It was an attachment. It was sent recently which confused everyone considering they already had her in their grips. Garcia went ahead and opened the attachment to reveal the picture. It was a letter addressed to Hotch.
Aaron Hotchner,
Expect a call from us around 7 p.m. You have my word your daughter will be safe until then. It’s up to you to agree or disagree with our demands which will ultimately determine her fate.
“Garcia, can you trace the number?” Hotch asked.
“It’s a burner number from an app. It’s out of service now, but I will trace Y/N’s location on her phone,” she said.
“We have about half an hour to go over possible suspects who could be responsible for this,” Morgan said.
“It seems personal, so it’s more than likely that Hotch and the perpetrator have come into contact. It seems especially personal since they want to call Hotch to tell him what they want from him instead of detailing it in the ransom letter,” Reid said.
“It seems whoever wrote the letter is the leader since he says ‘we’ and ‘our’ but only says ‘my’ when referring to keeping his word of keeping Y/N safe,” JJ said.
“Jack said there were two men who had abducted her but it’s less than likely the leader of the group would be one of the two doing the kidnapping. For now, we know there are three suspects but there could be more. Morgan, Prentiss and Reid will go to the kidnapping scene while the rest of us wait here for the call to come. Please bring Jack here when you’re done at the scene. He’s at school waiting to be picked up,” Hotch ordered.
Morgan, Reid and Prentiss nodded as they got up from their seats. They left the room in urgency as the time was slowly ticking away on Y/N. Hotch didn’t take his eyes off the screen as Garcia did her best to search for the phone. JJ and Rossi looked at him as they tried to remain calm for him. They knew as soon as Hotch found out he had his daughter it would send him over the edge. They wanted to avoid a possible repeat of the Foyet situation.
A map popped up on the screen with a red dot pinging on the location of Y/N’s phone. It was pinging in a lake not too far from the area Y/N. was last seen. Garcia touched her throat as she felt it run dry as she thought of the worst. She looked over to Hotch who was already looking in her direction. He looked calm and collected enough for the whole room.
“Don’t worry, Garcia. She’s still alive, they just dumped her phone, so we can’t trace them. Don’t give in to their fear tactics,” Hotch said.
Garcia took a jagged breath. “Of course, sir.”
“JJ, call Prentiss to inform them to go by the lake just off highway 66. Let’s pull up the street footage to see if the camera’s caught the getaway car.”
————
“Agents.”
Morgan, Reid and Prentiss looked over at where the voice had come from. They saw detective Broderick of the Arlington police department walking towards them. Morgan and Prentiss held their hands out to greet him with a handshake while Reid waved. He walked them over to the area where Y/N was taken from.
The area was riddled with pylons to identify every piece of evidence. They saw there was a trail of shattered glass on the road. Morgan went over to look at the pieces. He took out a pair of latex gloves from his pocket to put on. He picked up a shard to examine it.
“We sent samples of the glass to the FBI forensics lab in D.C., so hopefully we can determine the make of the car that way,” detective Broderick said.
“Our tech analyst is looking through street camera footage to see if the car was caught driving through this area. Y/N must have kicked out the backseat window, so someone could see her. Dangerous move, but helpful,” Morgan said.
“We should also get some of your officers down to the lake off highway 66. Y/N’s phone’s there but there could be other evidence there as well,” Prentiss instructed.
“You got it. You think they’re going towards the D.C. area? Should I send units out that way?” He asked.
“Not exactly. They could have just dumped her phone there and other items to throw us off. They’re most likely still in state because they still have to call Hotch. Whatever exchange that needs to take place has to take place nearby,” Reid said.
“Makes sense. I’ll send some cops down to that area for you.”
As detective Broderick radioed in for police officers to the location of where Y/N’s phone was, Reid noticed something on a piece of glass. He took out his latex gloves to put on before crouching next to the shard. He picked it up and saw what appeared to be blood. Then he noticed another shard with more of the red substance on it.
He called over an officer to give him an evidence collection bag. The officer handed over a bag to him. Spencer put both shards into the bag. As he tried to look for any more shards on the ground that could potentially be evidence, he saw Prentiss walk into his sight. She crouched down close to him but she looked at a completely different area of glass shards.
“I think that might be a partial print,” she said.
“Where?” Reid asked.
She pointed at a shard in front of her. She carefully picked it up to show Reid in the reflection of the dim sunlight a possible partial print. Reid nodded his head in agreement to the fact that it could be a partial print.
“Let’s get this to the lab along with the other shards in this specific area. Maybe we can find another shard with the rest of the fingerprint or even a palm print somewhere.”
———
Hotch, JJ, Rossi and Garcia waited around the round table for the call to come through. They were informed of the evidence being processed at the FBI forensics lab in D.C. for clear identification. They had also been informed that the area where Y/N’s phone was found also had her soccer bag tossed into the river as well. They were still actively combing the area for any further evidence.
Garcia managed to identify the car as a black 2002 Mercedes Benz C Class sedan. The license plates weren’t visible on camera due to the angles they were taken. She didn’t have any success finding that type of car registered to anyone in the Arlington area who had been near the abduction site.
All the information Hotch was receiving was sticking in his mind and he continuously thought of who could be behind his daughter’s kidnapping. He would have honestly rather they have shot him and spare her of any trauma. He swore he would never let anyone harm his family again and it seemed as if no matter what he did nothing protected his family from the demons of his job.
The clock struck 7 p.m. and his eyes darted to his phone on the table. Everyone else’s eyes also followed his gaze. They were anxiously waiting for the call too. They wanted to find Y/N in one piece just as much Hotch did but they couldn’t even fathom the agony he was in being helpless in this situation. His daughter’s fate laid in one phone call.
JJ jerked in her seat as she felt her phone vibrate. Her anxiety towards the situation was heavy for her that it almost felt as if she was in his seat. Her heart still pounded as she looked at her phone even though she knew it was probably only a text from Prentiss updating her about the situation. Which she was correct about but her heart still pounded and her hands still shook from the sudden vibration of her phone.
“They found a tire track, so they’re going to run that by the lab as well,” she said.
Hotch’s phone rang. The sound of everybody in the room taking a deep breath was the only sound next to Garcia typing away as she got ready to track the call. Hotch calmly picked up the phone even as the burning rage inside of him tried its best to come out. He had to resist any hostility during the call at all cost.
“Hotchner,” Hotch said.
“Aaron Hotchner. Glad you picked up,” the distorted voice said.
“What do you want for the safe return of my daughter?” He asked.
“Is this the same guy who doesn’t make deal with people like me? Isn’t that what you said when George Foyet wanted to cut a deal with you? Why the sudden change in song?” The voice asked.
“And look how that turned out,” he said.
“I wouldn’t harm your daughter but if you try to find me as I know your team already is I’ll have no choice to.”
“Tell me what you want and we’ll stop hunting you.”
“Do you promise?”
“Yes.”
“I need $500,000 dropped off at 3600 17th street north by 9 p.m. and your daughter will be returned safely to you. She will be in the forest nearby waiting for you. If you deviate from this plan I will not hesitate to inform my partner to shoot her. Are we clear, Aaron?”
“Yes.”
“Do you not want to hear your daughter? It’s chilling knowing you don’t want to know for sure if she’s alive or not.”
“I know she’s alive. You can’t fool me with your fake confidence. You and I know you’re going to keep me playing this count and mouse game until 9 p.m. when you realize you messed with the wrong person.”
“Charming, Aaron. We’ll chat later.”
They hung up without another word exchanged. Hotch looked over at Garcia but she slowly shook her head in defeat with tears gradually forming in her eyes. She wasn’t able to ping a signal to the call.
“I think they’re blocking the signal because I can’t find a tower they’re boun-”
“That’s okay. I have a feeling I know who it is,” Hotch said.
Everyone raised a curious eyebrow to what Hotch had revealed. Though the conversation was short and mainly to the point, Hotch had listened out for a few key aspects. The most telling aspect he noticed made him confident in knowing who it was.
“You know them?” JJ asked.
“Yes. I know from the way they said, “charming, Aaron,” Hotch explained.
“Okay, so who’s the guy?” Rossi asked.
“It’s not a guy. It’s a woman.”
—–
MASTERLIST
Tagged: @shadyladyperfection, @slutforthegubes, @pinkdiamond1016, @spencerreidsthings, @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto, @slutforsr @bxtchboy69, @fallinallinmendes @haihappen5 @mgg-theprettiestboy @siltuz-png @ptrs-prkrs @tclaerh @agentadhd @alexmarie29 @closetedreidstan @mac99martin @blxckhearthood @jesspavlik0vsky @katexrichardson @keniaasf @reidbuck @corishirogane3 @thegoddamncrazycatlady @keniaasf @pastelbabygirl19 @shadybagelsludgecolor @bootycrackraisinjuice @vintagebeauty1496 @laneybobeczko-g @littlewierdalien @cynbx
#spencer reid#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fic#jj#Jennifer Jareau#derek morgan#emily prentiss#Penelope Garcia#david rossi#Criminal Minds#criminalminds#CM#Criminal Minds Fanfiction#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds request#criminal minds fic#criminal minds angst#aaron hotchner angst#aaron hotchner fanfiction
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About Me!
Learn all there is to know about me!
(as of currently)
My name is Ashura! I also go by Ash or Lunar, so take your pick! Any new nicknames are welcome as well.
I'm 18 years old.
I go by any pronouns, so again, take your pick!
I enjoy reading and writing grammatically correct fanficitions, as well as drawing!
Currently I'm really into the Dream SMP, so most (if not all) of my fics that I share here will be about that.
Boundaries!
Probably the most important thing here! I don't have many, but I ask that you respect them nonetheless!
I will not write for things that I do not have the best understanding of, or things that I am not properly educated on. My worst fear is to portray something wrong and potentially harming or misinformation others with my stories. Please ask if you have a specific request, and I will let you know if I am comfortable with writing for that topic.
I will not write sexually explicit/NSFW stories for ANY characters. Not only is it most likely out of the comfort zones for many of the content creators to have their characters sexualized, I can personally only see these characters interacting with the Reader in friendly lights. Please do not ask for any NSFW.
SFW/Fluff/Feel-good things are completely okay! My intent is to write these characters as if they have a really close friendship with the Reader, which can include cuddles, hand-holding, and general cute things. Flirting is alright as well! This is mostly inspired by my own IRL friendships.
On the topic of flirting, I am okay with SOME romantic things. Romantic and sexual are completely different things, after all, and my expertise in romance is probably my only defining quality haha! I am okay with writing about romantic relationships between the Reader and some characters of the SMP, NOT including minors. All minor relationships are STRICTLY platonic. Do not ask for romantic relationships with minors. I will not answer. If you wish to see a story about a romantic relationship between the Reader and an adult SMP character, just ask!
As for personal boundaries, I don't have many! I'm fine with a lot of things, including cursing/swearing. The only thing I will not tolerate towards me or anyone is derogatory remarks. If you don't like something, move on.
And because I can't think of anything else to add, let's move on to questions you probably don't have!
Q.《Why did you start this blog?》
A. As mentioned above, I really enjoy writing fanfictions. They are one of my escapes from the real world, as is the Dream SMP! I started reading some fics, headcannons, and imagines here and really enjoyed it! I thought, "Why not do the same? Share your stories with like-minded people," so I did!
One of my biggest inspirations for starting this blog was the fact that there was so little fanfics for the DSMP, at least in the friendship department. I aim to write stories that center around the characters of the SMP, their friendships and hardships, and to put the story in words that the members otherwise cannot express.
Q.《What will your stories be about?》
A. The Dream SMP, and all characters included! Most, if not all of the stories I write will be 'Reader Insert's, or 'x Reader's. This totally does not stem from my desire to be friends with everyone aha nope haha definitely not-
All stories will be about the characters that the streamers portray, NOT the content creators themselves. I personally feel a bit awkward writing for real people. I may try and change things up one day, but today is not that day!
Q.《How did you get into the Dream SMP?》
A. I got into the Dream SMP a few months ago after coming across many videos and posts talking about it, and began my journey by watching Wilbur Soot's videos and the story of the rise and fall of L'manburg. Ever since, I've been hooked, and I've come to really enjoy and look forward to new streams and videos!
Q.《Will your stories be inclusive? (Gender Identity, Sexuality, Race, etc.)》
A. Absolutely! None of my stories will leave anyone out, and I will strive to accurately portray anything and everything! The Reader in my stories will never have their gender, sexuality, or appearance explicitly stated, either in walls of text or in dialogue. To make everything the most inclusive, I will be using they/them pronouns when characters refer to the Reader. I tend to avoid the use of 'insert points', as I will call them, or things like 'Y/n', 'e/c', or 'h/c' to name a few. If necessary, I will use '(Name)' for the Reader, but otherwise dodge the use of other insert points unless it is useful to the story or needs to be explicitly mentioned.
Q.《Will you write for certain things if asked?》
A. Yes, I will, as long as none of it goes out of my boundaries!
Q.《How much knowledge of Dream SMP Lore do you have?》
A. Honestly, not much. I have gotten as far as Doomsday and Dream's imprisonment, but that is about it! Not to mention, all of my knowledge comes purely from Tubbo, Ranboo, Wilbur and Tommy's streams. I don't know much about Technoblade or Philza's lore as of this moment, or any one else's, but I plan to learn! Any requests that deal with these characters lore, I will do my best. Please don't be afraid to let me know if I mess something up! Help is always welcome.
Q.《Do you have other stories not on Tumblr that I can read?》
A. That I do! I have a story up on Archive Of Our Own under the title "Hearteater"! It is an Demon Slayer OC insert featuring my character Higurashi Shion! I am very proud of it, and I think you should check it out. Look for the user 'LunarPenguinChan' to find the story!
Q.《Is there any other social media I can contact you on?》
A. Yep! Discord, at Ashura#4903, or Twitter under the handle @ashura_penguin!
More to be added as I go! Please check back here frequently for updates. I really look forward to meeting and making friends with everyone! Don't be afraid to send me a DM or ask/request anything! I'm fired up and ready to show off my horrible writing skills! :D
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The Ranch {8}
An A Court of Thorns and Roses, Nesta x Cassian, Modern AU, fanfiction.
Collaboration: @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty x @tacmc
Summary: Nesta had spent years in Paris, living her dream and drowning in riches as a gourmet chef, capturing the hearts of the city and its people. But, after her father passes away unexpectedly and leaves his cozy, countryside B&B to his oldest daughter, Nesta is moving back home to the tiny town of Velaris, where the ranch, her sisters, and her father’s unfulfilled dream, awaits.
Sidenote: Being posted between two blogs, it is too chaotic to keep up with a tags list, so all chapters will be tagged with “#TheRanchNessian” & “#SharaCollab”.
A/N: We love that you guys have been loving this so much! Please continue to let us know what you’re thinking. We loved writing this fic, and your love means the world to us.
The Ranch Masterlist
Cassian didn’t see or hear from Nesta for the rest of the day. He saw her in the main house around dinner time, but decided he would let her cook in peace. He didn’t know what kind of demons had reared their ugly heads at her today, but whatever had happened between Nesta and Tomas Motherfucking Mandray had screwed with her so badly that he barely recognized the woman he found in the paint department today.
He remembered Nesta from high school, had known that she had dated Tomas then. But, he didn’t know much. At least, not about Nesta. As for Tomas, however, he and Cassian went way back, and none of their interactions had ever been pleasant. Tomas had always been a self-absorbed little bitch. He hated Tomas.
And he had hated him even more when he walked into the paint aisle and saw how fucking terrified Nesta had been.
Yet, he wasn’t going to push her to talk about it. She would come to him when she was ready. Maybe. Hopefully. Either way, Cassian had convinced himself that it was none of his business.
Even if he really, really wanted it to be his business.
As night approached, Cassian made sure all the horses were ready for bed, and all the cattle were where they were meant to be. He whistled for Beau to follow him into the cabin and, the good pup he was, Beau obeyed. Once inside, he slumped into the recliner and checked his phone.
There was a text from Rhys that read, Being engaged is fucking awesome. It ended with three flame emojis. Cassian found the text as a whole repulsive and unnecessary.
There was a text from Azriel, too, that read, Drinks on Friday? Elain is working all night.
Cassian dismissed it, making a mental note to reply in the morning.
Then, he had one last text.
From Nesta.
Thanks for today. Sorry I spaced out.
He read the text once, twice, three times before finding the nerve to reply. Anytime, he wrote. He wanted to write something else, anything else, wanted to add a fucking speech at the end of the one-worded text, but he decided against it.
He pressed send.
It wasn’t two minutes later that he got a reply. You should be sleeping. You’ll have to wake up early to get on the stables, won’t you?
Cassian chuckled to himself. Maybe. But you have to be up early to do your makeup before you finish the landscaping, he replied.
Her reply wasn’t as quick this time, the dancing dots disappearing every so often. But when his phone finally vibrated while he was brushing his teeth, he laughed out loud.
Don’t act like it takes me more time to do my hair than it takes you to do yours. Don’t think I haven’t noticed those man buns are a little TOO perfect sometimes.
He replied with no hesitation. Glad to know you’re looking at my man buns.
He swore that he could feel her eyes roll from across the property. Goodnight, Sexy Ranch Hand.
Goodnight, beautiful.
He sent the text, hoping it would bring her a little bit of joy, a little bit of comfort, but then, when she didn’t reply, he grew nervous.
He felt he was walking a fine line with Nesta, ever since she scolded him for being his boss.
His hesitation didn’t last too long, though, because his phone vibrated the minute he climbed into his bed. The text was short, but it gave him comfort.
A smiley face emoji greeted him as Beau climbed up on the bed beside him.
He slept good that night, smiling stupidly to himself as he snuggled up next to Beau. And when morning came, he felt completely refreshed.
He was up and getting dressed with a cup of coffee at four, and as sunrise approached, Cassian grabbed a bag by the door and he and Beau were walking out into the cool, muggy summer morning. It wouldn’t be long until the sun was beating down, drenching him in sweat.
Instead of heading toward the stables, Cassian went across the grass and the gravel driveway, and up the steps of the tiny, modern house that sat there.
He pounded on the door and Beau stayed in the yard, chasing his tail.
No answer.
He pounded his fist on the wood once more.
Nothing.
With a sigh, Cassian kept knocking, and didn’t stop. He pounded repeatedly on the door for at least thirty seconds when the door was thrown open, and Nesta stood there, looking like she wanted to set him on fire.
“What the hell?” She asked, voice raspy, hair a mess, body wrapped in a crocheted blanket.
“Rise and shine,” Cassian grinned. “Go on. Get dressed.”
Her eyes narrowed as she flipped on the porch light. Cassian lit up as she groaned from the brightness of it.
“You wanted to learn how things are done around here,” Cassian laughed. “Well, I start at sunrise, ever day.”
Nesta rubbed her eyes and snorted. “Unless you’re hungover.”
Cassian grinned. “Fair enough. Alright, go on, get dressed, I’ll wait.”
Nesta sighed but didn’t protest as she took a step back.
“Oh,” Cassian said, before she could close the door on him. “Here.”
He held out the bag.
She blinked. “What is that?”
“I kept telling you,” he said, shaking the bag until she took it. “You own a ranch. You need a pair of boots.”
“You...bought me boots?”
Cassian shrugged as she took the bag and shoved his hands into his pockets. “With your sisters’ help. Consider it your welcome home gift.”
Nesta was speechless as she slowly went back into her little house.
She didn’t bother closing the door, so Cassian stepped inside as she went back into her bedroom.
He looked around, although there wasn’t much inside. He noticed Elain’s old furniture, that he had helped move in upon Nesta’s arrival.
“Hopefully they fit,” Cassian said as he went to the little fridge in the kitchen and looked at the pictures that covered it. “I may have snuck a glance at your sneakers the other day when you weren’t looking to check for size.”
Nesta’s quiet laughter flooded through the hall. “Creep.”
Cassian grinned to himself as he studied a picture of the girls when they were young, smiling with their mother. Cassian had never met her. She died years before Isaac had hired him.
Nesta came out a minute later, and even in the dim lamplight, Cassian was breathless.
Her hair was pulled back in a high point tail. She wore jeans, a tank top, and an old flannel shirt, which remained open.
And her boots, which fit nicely.
“Okay, stop staring,” Nesta muttered. “I realize you’ve never seen me in boots and it’s shocking.”
Cassian cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck as he nodded. “They look nice.”
Nesta rolled her eyes and her boots thumped toward the front door. “Yeah, yeah. Alright, let’s do this.”
Cassian allowed himself to watch her walk out the door and down the steps before he followed her out.
————
“Harder.”
Cassian grunted.
“Harder.”
He groaned, but did as he was told.
“Harder!”
Cassian was out of breath, but he said, “This is as hard as it gets, I don’t know what else you want from me.”
Nesta gritted her teeth, but still managed to roll her eyes. “I want you to try harder.”
He grunted and said, “Okay, okay, put it down. Stop pushing.”
They both moved away from the enormous roll of hay they’d been trying to roll through the south pasture. It had rained overnight, nearly doubling the weight of the hay and Cassian had suspected he needed a little more muscle than what Nesta had to offer.
“I’ll have to call Rhys,” Cassian said, lifting the hem of his shirt to wipe his brow. Nesta was folded at the waist, her hands braced on her knees.
“No, we can-.” She stopped to breathe. “We can do it. We got this”
He chuckled, “Nes, that hay weighs over 5 times your weight. We absolutely do not got this.”
Her lips tightened as she sized up the roll of hay. “We-.”
“Nesta,” Cassian breathed, laughing quietly. “It’s not a big deal. Your ability to move a roll of hay doesn’t dictate your ability to run a ranch. Well, own it, I run it.”
Nesta couldn’t help the smile that tugged on the corner of her mouth. “You’re incredibly annoying.”
“I know,” he grinned, wiping his face with the hem of his shirt, once more. Nesta’s eyes lingered a little bit too long on his abdomen, just above the waistband of his jeans, which were hanging loosely on his hips. He didn’t seem to notice as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and sent a text to Rhys. “Rhys will be over soon, I’m sure, he has the day off. Unless your sister kept him up all night.”
Nesta scrunched her nose. “No need to reference my sister’s sex life.”
Cassian’s grin widened as he put his phone back into his pocket. “You wanna go for a ride?”
Nesta stilled, and her hesitation made him howl.
“I meant on a horse, Nesta,” he said, unable to control his laughter. “Calm down.”
“Asshole,” she mumbled. Her cheeks were red, both from the sun they’d been in all day and the blush now tipping her ears as well. She wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “I don’t have a horse. I’m okay.”
Cassian had an eyebrow raised. “You actually have eight.”
“I have-.” Nesta paused. “Oh. You’re right.”
But not Phoenix.
“Hey.” Cassian’s voice was soft and she looked up, not expecting him to be so close. His hazel eyes were the color of the forest floor. As if he could read her thoughts, he said, “You’ll never be able to replace him, Nes. You’ll never get back that bond with him. But that doesn’t mean you can’t build another bond with another horse.”
He was right, of course, but she hadn’t been on a horse in nearly a decade. The thought alone terrified her. Yes, she was beginning not to mind being back in Velaris, had even started enjoying herself while working on the B&B, but to ride again? She wasn’t sure if she was ready for such a huge step.
And it was.
A massive step.
Yet, Cassian’s eyes were so full of hope, and the way they watched her, so softly, Nesta couldn’t say no.
Didn’t want to say no.
“Okay,” she breathed. “Fine.”
Cassian slowly shook his head. “I need to hear you say it with a little more enthusiasm.”
Nesta pursed her lips and shoved him in the shoulder, which only made his cocky ass grin return.
“Come on,” she said, heading in the direction of the dilapidated stalls the horses stayed in. She walked about twenty feet before she realized he wasn’t walking with her. “What?”
Cassian chuckled. “You really were tired this morning, weren’t you?”
Nesta blinked. “You banged on my door at, like, three in the morning. Of course I was tired.”
“Okay, first of all, it was four thirty,” he said, laughing. “Second, follow me.”
Nesta wasn’t sure exactly how she’d missed it. He was right, she must have been half asleep to miss the framework nestled back into the trees between their two houses.
But this was not the basic stable and tack room she’d described to him.
No, this building was going to be massive.
“There are going to be sixteen stalls,” Cassian said, sticking his hands in his pockets. “The tack room is going to be on that side,” he indicated to the right. “And the lodge, will be to the left.”
“The lodge?” Nesta asked, turning to look at him. “Figured it might be nice to have a little getaway out here. If you don’t like it, I can scrap it from the plans, make this a second tack room or storage area.”
But Nesta wasn’t listening, she’d turned back to the massive framework of beams in front of her.
She breathed, “Cassian, it’s perfect.”
He scratched at the back of his neck. “It’s going to take me a while to finish-.”
“Tell me what you need and it’s yours.” There was no hesitation to her words. “We can even hire someone to help, if you want.”
Cassian chuckled, softly. “That’s okay. I got it. If I need help, I’ll ask Rhys and Az. They’ll be more than happy to help when they can.”
“I can’t believe you…” Nesta shook her head, and looked at him. “Put so much thought into it.”
He shrugged. “You asked for updated stables. I just did what I’m told.”
“You really do love this place, don’t you?” Nesta asked quietly.
“Yeah,” Cassian said, meeting her gaze. “I had a bad reputation, from a lot of stupid shit I did when I was younger. Your dad really took a chance on hiring me, but I’m grateful every day that he did. He gave me a sense of purpose, when I thought I didn’t have one.”
Nesta nodded, slowly, and did not back down from his gaze as she said, “I’m grateful, too. That you’re here. I’d be completely lost without you.”
Cassian’s eyes softened, and she thought he was going to say something sweet, but then he said, “Yeah...all the other ranchers in this town aren’t as sexy as me, so, you really did luck out.”
“Oh, cauldron boil me,” Nesta groaned and Cassian put his arm around her shoulder and steered her towards the house, towards the shed where the saddles and other tack was kept.
“Ahhh, I didn’t want it to get too sappy.” He said, grinning down at her. “But now, we’re gonna see if you’re really worth your salt on this ranch.” He stopped in front of the shed and unlocked the padlock.
“And what exactly does that mean?” Nesta asked, not so subtly watching the way his back muscles moved under the blue t-shirt he wore.
He turned and Nesta cleared her throat and looked at him. He had a lead rope in his hand.
“Time to go catch you a horse, Nesta Archeron.”
——————
As the sun was setting, Nesta and Cassian walked back from the pasture, laughing.
“I had no idea that you were the one that released the dissection frogs!” Nesta said, locking the gate behind them. “Was it in protest of animal cruelty or something?”
Cassian thought for a second. “No, but if I had gotten caught, that probably would have been a better excuse than the one I would have gone with.”
Nesta chuckled. “Which was?”
He smirked and said, “Because I got bored.”
Nesta froze and watched him walk the rest of the way to the shed. “You let over four hundred frogs loose because you were bored?”
He put the ropes back in their place and locked the shed up. “Yup.” The grin on his face told her he, indeed, was proud of himself. And she was grinning, too.
Before she could stop herself, she asked, “Do you want to come have dinner with me?”
Cassian’s eyebrows raised. “Tonight?”
“Tonight, tomorrow night, whenever.” She shrugged, trying to play it off as a casual offer, and not that asking had filled her stomach with butterflies as strongly as it had when she had her first kiss. “We can meet for dinner in the main house every night. There’s no need for us to both cook.”
His smile returned, but it was softer. “I’d like that.”
They headed back around the front of the house, Cassian rattling off his favorite foods, most of which consisted of red meat and starches. When they came around the corner, Nesta froze.
Cassian’s words trailed off as he stopped beside her. A little black truck had pulled up, old and rusty. But the girl that came out of that little, rusty truck was stunning.
Nesta looked over at Cassian, to see if he recognized the young woman.
And, oh, he definitely did.
“Emerie,” he said, uncomfortably, clearing his throat. “What are you doing here?”
“Thought I’d come by to say hello,” she crooned, grin wide. Then, she seemed to notice Nesta for the first time. “Oh. Who are you?”
Nesta blinked, then realized she was being spoken to. “I own this property.”
“Oh,” she breathed, eyes growing wide with recognition. “Your Isaac’s oldest? Wow.” She looked Nesta up and down, and the gesture had Nesta seeing red. “Well, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Emerie.”
“I’ve heard,” Nesta muttered.
Cassian was fiddling with the hem of his shirt when he said, “You know, we’re a little busy, Em, why don’t you come back later?”
“Later works,” she said, sliding her hands in her back pockets. “I was going to see if you wanted to have dinner, too, but it seems like you’re...taken care of.”
Cassian cleared his throat and said, “Nesta and I were just-.”
“Just finishing up for the day,” Nesta interrupted. She turned to Cassian and the warm, playful nature he’d seen emerging earlier had gone cold. “Thanks for showing me the ropes. I really appreciate it.” She began up the porch steps and Cassian reached for her hand. He gently gripped her fingers.
“Nesta, wait, let me explain. It’s-,” he dragged his hand down his face, the callouses catching on his stubble. “It’s not what it looks like.”
“I fell for that once before,” she whispered, her fingers tightening in his. “I won’t fall for it again.”
A look of confusion crossed Cassian's face, but his hand dropped. Emerie had gotten the hint, had gotten back up into her truck and was backing out.
“Are you jealous?” He asked, and it was almost anger that replaced the spark in his hazel eyes. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“I’m not jealous,” Nesta snapped. “But it’s really inappropriate-“
“If you say that word one more time, Nesta, I swear on the fucking cauldron-.” Cassian’s words faded away and he raked his fingers through his long, tangled hair. “Must I remind you that you didn’t want me?”
There it was.
The words hung between them as complete silence consumed them, Emerie’s old truck driving away the only thing to be heard.
Nesta stared down at him, hurt written plainly across her face.
Hurt.
He had expected her to be jealous of Emerie, but he didn’t expect to see pain roiling in the depths of her eyes.
“Nesta, I-.”
She cut him off. “Did you lie to me?”
He blinked up at her, the sunset making her hair glow. “What?”
“That night, I asked you point blank if you had a girlfriend,” Nesta said, voice wavering. “You said no.”
“No,” Cassian said, eyes growing hard. “I have never lied to you, Nesta, I’m not a fucking liar. Emerie’s just a friend. She comes by every now and then. I haven’t seen her in months. She only comes by when she wants something.”
“Sex?” Nesta asked, before she could stop the word from tumbling out of her mouth.
Cassian shook his head, ignoring the short question altogether. “It doesn’t fucking matter. But, I’ve never lied to you. And, if you think I would lie to you….fuck.”
She could see the anger brewing inside of him, could see the frustration, but Nesta didn’t care, because she was pissed. And yet, she had no reason to be. He was right. She had turned him down. She had no right to care.
She was hurt, though.
And that hurt grew when she saw the hurt, saw the anguish, in his own eyes.
“I didn’t lie,” he repeated, looking away from her, out toward the pastures. “I’m a lot of things, Nesta, but I’m not a liar.”
She knew he wasn’t, knew it in every fiber of her being.
She hadn’t even been back in Velaris for a month, had just started to open up to the complicated man in front of her. Day and night, he always found a way to creep into her thoughts, into her dreams. But she couldn’t afford to be vulnerable, couldn’t afford to get tangled up with the man she couldn’t get off of her mind, no matter what she may want.
Not when her father's dream was on the line.
So Nesta closed her eyes, trying to hide the tears that has silently started slipping down her cheeks.
She turned her back to him, and hurried up the stairs of the main house.
Cassian was calling her name, but she forced herself to keep walking, to open the door, enter the house, shut herself inside.
She leaned against the slab of wood, stayed their as her eyes filled with tears, even as Cassian knocked on the other side.
“Nesta,” he said, voice calm, quiet, broken. “Hey, open up, come on.” He knocked again.
Nesta didn’t move.
She stayed there, leaning against the door, listening to him knock, listening to him beg.
But no matter what he said, Nesta didn’t open the door.
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Doyoung - More Than Just Roommates [req.]
Pairing: Doyoung x reader Request(s): roommates!au + “My necktie feeks tight. Loosen it for me.” Author’s Message: Thank you for requesting! I loved this request because... Doyoung in a suit? Do I need to say more? Warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of cheating, angst (did you expect any less from me?)
-
You never put too much thought into the fact that you were roommates with Doyoung.
Even when he moved in after answering your ad, your friends had given you the side eye because of how attractive your new roommate was. You could give him that at least; not only was he very attractive, but he was funny, respectful, clean, and he could cook. He was, all around, a perfect guy that only existed in most peoples’ dreams.
But because of that, he was taken.
When you met Doyoung, so were you. You were both in very happy relationships, and that made it a lot easier to resist your roommate’s unconscious charm. For two years, you managed to avoid falling into that roommates to lovers trope that only existed in fanfiction and movies.
But then, your partner cheated on you and his moved across the country.
It was devastating, but suddenly something changed between the two of you. Suddenly normal brushing on the couch transformed into electrified lingering touches, and exiting the bathroom after a shower turned into someone watching the other go down the hall.
You’re not ready, you can’t be. How do you just move on from not being… enough?
The answer is: you don’t.
On a late Friday night, you’re sitting at the kitchen table with only one light on and a bottle of your favorite Stella Rosa. You swirl the wine around your glass before finishing the rest. The silence of the apartment consumes you.
It’s another one of those nights. Nights where you sit and stare at the emptiness of the apartment and therefore your life. Most of the time you can avoid thinking about him, about where your relationship went wrong, but it’s hard to avoid a scar so heavy on your heart.
The sound of the front door opening interrupts your somber deliberations.
“Y/N?” Doyoung calls, and the sound of shuffling tells you he’s taking off his coat. You make no move to reply, only pouring another glass for yourself. You try to avoid getting like this around Doyoung.
The next time he speaks, his voice is closer. “Drinking without me?” Turning your head, you look up to find him standing in the entryway of the kitchen, looking at you. He’s still dressed in his business wear—a blue button down with a black tie and accompanying slacks—though he’s slipped off his blazer upon returning home.
His tousled hair and the light roseate glow of his cheeks makes you raise an eyebrow back, offering a small smile to him. “Looks like you already had some to drink.”
Doyoung chuckles, leaning against the counter. “The department went out for drinks after work. You know me, though. It takes a lot to get me drunk.”
Knowing that to be true, you don’t reply, instead deciding to swallow your words with a tilt of your glass, forcing the remaining volume of wine down your throat. Once you’ve managed to consume the dark pungent liquid, you wipe your mouth and shoot a sad simper to your roommate who looks on. “I didn’t think you’d like the corporate lifestyle but look at you, you fit right in,” you say, referring to his appearance. Before he graduated, you always knew Doyoung as a very ‘jeans and white t-shirts’ man.
He scoffs, though he still sports a small smile. “Yeah, right. I hate these button-ups.” Catching sight of how you’re gazing at him half out of your mind, his lithe digits tug at the tie around the column of his neck. “The necktie feels tight. Loosen it for me?”
It’s more of a quiet demand than a question, and at the look in his eyes you gulp, even though there’s no wine to swallow this time.
You rise to your feet, your glass forgotten on the kitchen table as you shuffle wordlessly to where he stands leaning against the counter. Your hand rises to undo his tie, but the tips of your fingers brush against his neck. He’s warm, probably as a result of the alcohol he’s previously consumed, but he reaches up and grabs your hand.
“You’re cold,” he muses.
Before you know it, both of his large hands have captured yours, rubbing warmth into your skin. His touch is comforting. This is the way Doyoung has always been; quiet, but sturdy. Caring, but always in the most simple ways.
In a moment, he pervades your senses—the feel of his hands on yours, as well as the burn of his gaze on you and the slight sting of his diluted cologne in your nose. Standing there, you gaze up at him and your eyes fall upon the gentle curve of his protruding lips. Oh, you’d never wanted anything more than to add the sensation of his lips on yours to that list.
It feels too intimate.
When it seems to Doyoung that your hands are no longer freezing from the lonely cold you suffered in the kitchen, he pulls his hands away and they fall to his side. Now, you undo his tie with slow but careful fingers. Once you’ve managed to release his neck from the tightness, you place it on the kitchen counter behind him, and your fingers are back on him. They pull slowly at the buttons, to allow him more room to breath.
One button, then another…
Now free from the restraining fabric, he takes a large breath. Then he says: “You look sad.”
“I feel sad.”
“I know. I’d like to help you, but you never let me in,” says Doyoung, voice soft in the darkness of the dimly lit room.
“I’m not a charity case, I don’t need to be helped,” you respond, pursing your lips. With every passing moment it becomes increasingly difficult not to fall into him, the smell of his light cologne luring you into him.
“I do.”
The reveal makes you look up at him. He’s a mere few inches from you, gazing down at you though you had been avoiding his gaze. In the smooth, silky voice of his, he continues, “I’m lonely. Sometimes I lay in bed, in the dark, and think about how she’s gone,” he reveals, referring to his ex, who moved across the country in pursuit of a new career. “I bought the ring… and then she told me that she had a choice between me or her job, and that she had chosen.”
His Adam’s apple bounces slightly, and you look up at him, eyes wide. “Doyoung…”
“It’s okay. It’s been a year now. It gets lonely sometimes, but now I have you.” Your eyes meet, and you think the light in the kitchen illuminating his sculpted features shines a little brighter. “You have me too. We’re more than just roommates, you can let me in.”
You really want to. But how can you, without the fear that you’ll be hurt again? Tossed to the side? As if he can read your mind, Doyoung’s hand intertwines with yours. “I’m not like him. You’re not like her. I’m not going to hurt you, and you’re not going to run away…”
You offer a slight squeeze to his hand to ensure that you’re with him, and Doyoung’s free hand reaches up to caress your cheek with the softest touch he can muster, like a feather against your skin. “But what if we do? What if you hurt me, and I run away?”
“Then you yell at me and tell me you should have never listened to me and I slam the door and leave but I’ll come back every single time.”
You scoff. “You make it sound so easy.”
“It can be.” Teeth biting down on your lips, you turn your gaze away from him. Even as you refuse to meet his eye, Doyoung gifts you a squeeze of the hand, much like you had earlier. To remind you he’s here, to remind you he’s different.
Doyoung is comfort, perseverance. The light that flickers on and off in the kitchen but never really dies out. The blanket that’s placed over your shoulders when you doze off on the couch, not asking for anything more than your happiness. He’s the feeling of sliding out of a strict necktie after a long day of faking smiles and feigning casual; he’s the reassuring anchor which tethers you back home at the end of every day.
And when you look up at him, his gaze holding more light than that dusty old kitchen light, you nod.
“Okay.”
The light never flickers again.
#i know most networks are not reblogging right now but i think i'll add them anyways whoops#nct-writers#dreamwritersnet#neothestarsnet#neowritingsnet#doyoung angst#doyoung fluff#doyoung fanfic#doyoung scenarios#doyoung drabbles#nct angst#nct fluff#nct drabbles#requested#this is the first thing i've written in a LONG while HAHA i actually started it a while back
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SO’s January Reads
Hey guys! So, one of the things I want to do with the blog is talk about the books I’ve read over the past month. Not only will it keep me reading, but maybe someone will find a new book to check out! I’m going to try to do these regularly, posting on the last Sunday of the month.
January Reads:
Title: House in the Cerulean Sea Author: TJ Klune Genre: Fiction; Fantasy
Goodreads Summary: A magical island. A dangerous task. A burning secret. Linus Baker leads a quiet, solitary life. At forty, he lives in a tiny house with a devious cat and his old records. As a Case Worker at the Department in Charge Of Magical Youth, he spends his days overseeing the well-being of children in government-sanctioned orphanages. When Linus is unexpectedly summoned by Extremely Upper Management he's given a curious and highly classified assignment: travel to Marsyas Island Orphanage, where six dangerous children reside: a gnome, a sprite, a wyvern, an unidentifiable green blob, a were-Pomeranian, and the Antichrist. Linus must set aside his fears and determine whether or not they’re likely to bring about the end of days. But the children aren’t the only secret the island keeps. Their caretaker is the charming and enigmatic Arthur Parnassus, who will do anything to keep his wards safe. As Arthur and Linus grow closer, long-held secrets are exposed, and Linus must make a choice: destroy a home or watch the world burn.
My Review:
Upon this being a rec from the company I work for, several of my coworkers kept recommending it to me. I ended up reading it in three days.
This is an incredibly beautiful book. While uniquely its own, there are shades of Harry Potter, X-Men, and Umbrella Academy among other things. It kind of sits on a line of between reality and fantasy, and is less of a plot driven novel, and more of a character study on letting go of what's considered normal, and embracing the strange person you are on the inside; as well as being a novel about finding a family, and finding the good in people no matter who they are. It's a quick read (read it in three days!), but its simplicity is a fault. It's positivity is one of its touchstones, and I appreciate that a book can be moving and not rely on tired darker or grittier tropes. It's also a good read for all ages, and a book parents could read with their kids.
Rating: 5 Stars
***
Title: Red, White, and Royal Blue Author: Casey McQuiston Genre: Romance; LGBT
Goodreads Summary: First Son Alex Claremont-Diaz is the closest thing to a prince this side of the Atlantic. With his intrepid sister and the Veep’s genius granddaughter, they’re the White House Trio, a beautiful millennial marketing strategy for his mother, President Ellen Claremont. International socialite duties do have downsides—namely, when photos of a confrontation with his longtime nemesis Prince Henry at a royal wedding leak to the tabloids and threaten American/British relations. The plan for damage control: staging a fake friendship between the First Son and the Prince. As President Claremont kicks off her reelection bid, Alex finds himself hurtling into a secret relationship with Henry that could derail the campaign and upend two nations. What is worth the sacrifice? How do you do all the good you can do? And, most importantly, how will history remember you?
My Review:
This is a sweet, light-hearted LGBT romance -- an easy read if you're looking for something to escape into for a few days. It's a bit on the tropey side, but that's where the fun is, and the characters are engaging and fun to spend time with. If you’re a big fan of fanfiction, this has all the trappings of really good fanfiction (though I’ll admit, maybe cause it’s published fiction, it’s not going to be as explicit as a lot of fanfiction usually gets).
My only real criticism is the number of pop culture references and celebrity name drops go a little overboard. Sometimes they feel shoehorned in to make it seem more 'now', which is just going to end up dating the book in the long run. Also, the American political stuff feels a little idealistic, especially after the tumultuous election we’ve had, but that’s not really the heart of the book.
Otherwise, while it's not going to win a Nobel Prize for literature, it's still a lot of fun.
Rating: 4 stars
***
Title: Truly Devious Trilogy (Truly Devious; The Vanishing Stair; The Hand on the Wall) Author: Maureen Johnson Genre: YA; Mystery
Goodreads Summary: Ellingham Academy is a famous private school in Vermont for the brightest thinkers, inventors, and artists. It was founded by Albert Ellingham, an early twentieth century tycoon, who wanted to make a wonderful place full of riddles, twisting pathways, and gardens. “A place,” he said, “where learning is a game.” Shortly after the school opened, his wife and daughter were kidnapped. The only real clue was a mocking riddle listing methods of murder, signed with the frightening pseudonym “Truly, Devious.” It became one of the great unsolved crimes of American history. True-crime aficionado Stevie Bell is set to begin her first year at Ellingham Academy, and she has an ambitious plan: She will solve this cold case. That is, she will solve the case when she gets a grip on her demanding new school life and her housemates: the inventor, the novelist, the actor, the artist, and the jokester. But something strange is happening. Truly Devious makes a surprise return, and death revisits Ellingham Academy. The past has crawled out of its grave. Someone has gotten away with murder. The two interwoven mysteries of this first book in the Truly Devious series dovetail brilliantly, and Stevie Bell will continue her relentless quest for the murderers in books two and three.
My Review:
Truly Devious: I love the mystery aspect of it -- it's definitely intriguing, and as someone who's read a lot of mystery novels, I'm glad the mystery in this isn't glaringly obvious. It did, at times, feel like a ton of set-up, but because this is the first book of a trilogy, that does make sense. The teen angst/drama aspect felt a little much at times, and I wish there was more of some of the side-characters who only seem to pop up when the plot needs them, but this is minor nitpicking and overall, this book was an incredibly fun read.
The Vanishing Stair: The mystery is still incredibly intriguing as it unfolds in more detail in this one, and Johnson's ability to unwind what's going on is fantastic. I still have a few minor quibbles -- I think this one starts out slower, since it's saddled with recapping the first book, and there are times when I feel it's a little padded (I'm not sure this needed to be stretched into three books, but trilogies, I'm sure, make more money), but I don't think that detracts too much from the overall story. I do, also, wish that some of the side characters (Janelle, Nate) had more to do, at times they kind of feel like window dressing, and there because Stevie's world needs more people in it. But overall, it's still a fun read, and an intriguing mystery.
The Hand on the Wall: Better than the second one, doesn't quite capture the magic and mystery of the first. Overall, this trilogy was a fun little mystery with a lot of cool (albeit sometimes underdeveloped) characters. I still think it should have been one, larger novel, as this one, too, feels like there's a lot of padding. And I have a few smaller issues with how certain things were resolved (a lot of conclusions felt like leaps to get there for the characters, even if overall the 'mystery' made sense), while some things I wanted more closure on (what happened to Francis? they alluded to her in book 2, but never closed the door on it). I'm also not a fan of the romance in this book -- it never really clicked for me, and often felt like it was there to keep the plot going. But these are all pretty easy reads, and there are a lot of fun things, too. I'm curious as to how the author handles these characters in her next stand alone novel.
Rating: Truly Devious - 4.5 Stars; The Vanishing Stair - 3.5 Stars; The Hand on the Wall - 4 Stars
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LITTLE WOMEN FANFICTION
CHAPTER 3: SEVEN
Escapism
"Please, picture me in the trees...
...before I learned civility."
- seven, Taylor Swift
***
one.
- Let's run away.
It's barely a whisper. It's said more to the open sky above them than to anybody else.
- Let's run away.
It's more than a whisper now. It's a call. An invitation for something greater than both of them. And Laurie would gladly buy a ticket for that particular train. He would. But the sun is so wonderful and the clouds are so enchanting in their unusual shapes that even getting up seems like a chore. He wants to stay here. On the grass. But Jo is persistent in her wishes. Jo March never, never, gives up.
- Won't you say something, Teddy? Can't you just see it? We could be anything, do anything, go anywhere! The world could be ours!
She, unlike him, is on her feet. She always seems to be. Gravity isn't very fond of Jo. Or at least that's what Jo will tell you. Laurie doesn't know if that's true or not, but he likes hearing her talk. He finds himself generally attached to sounds. The chipering of birds. The first note you play on the piano. Amy's chaotic laughter. Beth's soft chuckles. Meg's little mumbles. Jo's wild exclaims. That's one of the many reasons why Laurie loves the Marches. It's like these sisters have discovered an utterly fresh, vivid and extraordinary way to be alive. It's a pleasant contrast to what he's used to.
It's always quiet at home.
"What do you say Theodore Laurence, kindest and most noble of knights of this kingdom? Shall we follow the wind and see where it leads us?"
"I wouldn't want it any other way."
"Then you accept my proposal?"
"I sure do, Miss March."
People's faces usually look radically different when lightened up with smiles. They look prettier, more beautiful and somehow truer to themselves as opposed to non smiling faces. Jo's doesn't. She is smiling at him right now and her face doesn't look any different. It's just as true and warm as it was a thousand smiles before. And would Laurie even be allowed to call himself a comrade of Jo's if he didn't gift her with a smile of his own in return? He grins at her with no specific thought behind the expression. This is how people are supposed to be smiling, he thinks. Wide and real. Yes, people are supposed to be smiling just like this.
For a second, Jo and Laurie are the same person. Hair wild, shirts half unbuttoned, cheeks flushed. Laurie's hands are splattered with dirt from the ground whose hostility he was taking advantage of moments prior. Jo doesn't seem to care about that. Once he's up and standing, she grabs his arm a bit forcefully (which he doesn't mind), a bit theatrically (because this is Jo and life is a theatre piece) and they start running, both of them now embellished with dust. There's a lot of stumbling (and stumbling is blamed on the seemingly nonexistent objects that appear and disappear under commands of fairy like creatures) and there's a lot of laughter (laughter that comes in its most natural form and doesn't show any interest in being contained under anyone's wishes, especially not the ones of the world).
"Oh dearest, the world might not be for us, but us we are for the world."
***
two.
Freedom is both the most basic and the most complicated aspect of life to be gained. It is so simple of a concept, one could easily and rightfully so believe how all of thought guardians (more commonly referred to as humans) should have the right to not only experience, but spend their entire lives swimming in shinning lakes of freedom. But it's not how it all works. Some have tiny bits of freedom. Some don't have it at all. Some have loads. Some have just enough. Too much, sadly or sadly not, have none.
Jo sometimes wishes she were a tree. High up in the sky, stretching out her branches towards infinity. She isn't a tree though.
Imagination is of grave help despite what anyone says. To a normal person, the tree is just a tree. Tree and nothing else. To Jo March, a tree is so much more. It's an opportunity. An adventure. It's a solace and a home. A sanctuary. She's climbing up one of her leaf providing friends as she's trying to figure out how to describe this moment the best. Her reflections are interrupted by a voice which surprisingly doesn't come from the bellow, but from the above instead. Once Jo spots the speaker's ground conquerors (or "shoes" if you are of dull old sameness and don't find the pleasure in crafting phrases unlike our Jo), she immediately recognizes their owner. She still isn't sure why Teddy let Amy paint his shoes with images of flowers, but she is mesmerized with the final result. And although she shall never share this with the oh, so great artist, Jo thinks Amy's creations to be exquisite.
"I presume you are coming here to put your mind at ease."
"That is correct, my boy, and I suppose you are here for the same cause. "
By the time they exchange these lines, Jo has already climbed up to the place where Laurie is. She finds herself a steady enough branch and rests her head against the surface of the wood. Her friend is positioned in a similar way, his leg gently swaying to a peculiar beat of his own making.
Two figures, who almost seem to be one with the wooden fellow, occasionally take an exceptionally deep breath. Their hands colored with bruises, souvenirs from many extraordinary expeditions, their clothes decorated with leaves. Seemingly they are flowers, nature is their most beloved companion.
It's quite a story how Jo and Teddy, these flower resembling humans, coexist without many syllables shared. The phrases they do sometimes grace each other with can end up being translated as meaningless or lacking in thought. But Teddy and Jo, among everything else, are inventors. They invented a language which only functions for them. What is mean to others represents to them a code. What is strange to some, playful and witty to them it is. What is impossible to comprehend, they understand with little to no effort.
"Language of flowers is the language of flowers for a reason. Nobody, but flowers, thinks it much sense."
***
three.
"I'M ALIVE! LOOK AT ME, EARTH!!! I! AM! BREATHING!"
This is just one of the many declarations that have furiously been shouted at the void today. Young people often have trouble befriending compromises, especially if those compromises are to be made with the creatures you live in close proximity with. Jo has again been fighting with her sisters for reasons she cannot exactly recall right this instant. It's funny, because this always happens to her. Something sparks her temper, she recklessly gives into it and at the end, it's all about the anger she doesn't know how to release. She usually goes on long walks or takes deep breaths. She basically tries to isolate herself from everyone until the storm passes.
Teddy has a different solution for her troubles, troubles that naturally turn out to be his troubles too because they are Jo and Teddy, Teddy and Jo, and they have the same troubles (which is both wonderfully relieving and awfully annoying at the same time). Jo wouldn't even call Teddy's solution a solution. They are both making these announcements of nonhuman frequency and dancing their heads off, and as ridiculous as it is, Jo feels it liberating. They aren't improving anything (just the opposite, screaming random things into the air represents the peak of impulsive behaviour) and the conclusion is: no profitable discoveries in the "containing yourself" department. But who cares? Sometimes you have to let it all out. Dance and shout the worries away. It wasn't a coincidence that Jo met Teddy under the circumstances that she did. They were both of hot tempers, strong wills and free spirits. And they needed to dance it all out out. Despite the absurdity and inappropriate mannerism a foreign eye would most certainly find in their actions.
"There exists no right nor wrong way to express one's self."
***
four.
Laurie is surprised with how much he is enjoying this. It's all very simple. Yet, he feels at peace. He feels like everything inside him has a chance to rest.
It's the fireplace and captivating movement of the fire flames.
It's the soft "click" he discovers every time Meg takes a step. Her shoes are marvellous singers.
It's the chattering of dishes he recognizes somewhere in the background. It must be Beth, cleaning the table after the meal.
It's Amy giggling mischievously after coming up with what Laurie supposes to be some kind of scheme or more accurately, a master plan. He wouldn't know what is it about, but whatever it is, Amy is destined to succeed in it.
It's Jo. This is all because of Jo. He wouldn't have come across the hidden delights of the "uncomplicated" and "boring" if it weren't for her. She takes a seat beside him interrupting the spectacular date he had with the fireplace, rests her head on his shoulder and sighs. It's like this with them. Touching has never been a big deal.
"Beautiful."
That's all Jo says. "Beautiful." He doesn't question it. He understands what she means even though he cannot explain it. He understands.
"Warmth. Choreographed chaos. Lines overlapping. Minds intertwining. Familiarity greeting you "hello". People. Family. Home."
***
five.
She cut her hair. She cut her hair and everything is supposed to be at least a little better if not completely fine. But she can feel the tears forming in her eyes as she's approaching the house. The money in her pocket is so incredibly present. No, the money is not just present in her pocket. Everything those dusty pieces of paper represent carries weight. A weight so grand Jo could swear there is somebody following her, kind of like the money has taken the shape of a person and is now accompanying her, monitoring her every move. What kind of world sees a green, ugly paper and claims of it a metaphor for greatest treasures? And the tears? The tears she cannot comprehend. Why would she care? It's just hair. If anything, she should be bursting with joy right now. She got rid of the womanly burden. But it doesn't feel right. It's all extremely selfish of her. Selfish and thoughtless.
Her sister is... not well. Her father is out there doing all sorts of heroic things and instead of crying over her sins, she's crying over this. For once she does something right, for once the part of her that's wrong different isn't screaming. And then it hits her. It's not just a part of her that's different wrong. It's her. The moment she realises this she steps into the house. Everyone is either too distant or too close to notice all that is hiding underneath her seemingly admirable actions.
Her body is barely handling the atmosphere. It's barely cultivating the facade. But her body is also covered with Teddy's waistcoat and just as she remembers this little fact she sees her best friend right there in front of her. He is not too distant nor too close. He is right where she is.
They have the same hair.
Jo is pulled towards him because this is Teddy and hugging Teddy is like hugging herself. They stay like that for a few moments, their realities greeting each other like two fellow soldiers, finally reunited in battle.
It doesn't make her feel any less hollow. It doesn't change anything. It doesn't alter the wrongs. But it does make it a little better. It offers an assurance. An assurance embodying validity so present, money can do nothing but hold a candle to. An assurance of rational absurdity. Because that's what Jo and Teddy are.
They are rationally absurd.
"It's a childish belief that all twins look the same. There exist many ways to be somebody's twin."
***
six.
She is holding his hand.
He has just told her how he doesn't fit within himself. He has just told her that and she is still here, laying on the floor with him, covered with blankets. She said it made sense. She must have been too tired or something. She must have misheard. She must have.
"Jo, are you there?"
She does not respond. She only squeezes his hand. It's not about the gesture itself. It's about everything the gesture holds.
Promises. Lifetimes. Daylights. Midnights. Setting suns. Growing spirits. Flowery Youths.
She is holding his hand.
" Mutuality sure is a wonderful creation. What is more wonderful though is mutual understanding. Mutuality means the returning of the same. Mutual understanding means accepting and loving of the different."
***
seven.
"I could run away for real this time. Explore the unknown, unravel the mystical. Encounter the miracles. Touch the heavens..."
Her words are empty. They don't mean much. They are empty and desperate. Empty, desperate and meaningless.
Her sister got married. Meg got married and she is talking to herself about running away. The wind is dancing with her again long enough hair, tangling its fingers into her rough curls, reminding her of the countless times it has done the exact same thing before. Mocking her with its endless supplies of stability and comfort. Jo is leaning over the wooden fence, despite the wishes of her dress which keeps complaining about her unlady like methods. Jo honestly does not care about the fancy bridesmaid dress and its wants. If one has the will to climb fences, one shall enjoy the act of doing so, no matter what some piece of fabric might have to say. She is trying to hold back rivers her eyes miserably wish to let flow. She cannot cry. She must not. She has an ongoing bet with Teddy about this. He was daring enough to assume she will turn herself into a paddle today and she ought to prove him wrong.
"What might a lady like yourself be doing here instead of enjoying the jolly ceremony out there in the open?"
"I am no lady Teddy, my being is in no need of such chains."
Laurie doesn't pressure her into answering the question (she would have answered it in the first place if she had the intention to) and steps on the fence beside her. He starts humming a random melody, rhythmically moving his fingers to the sound. He must be composing something again, thinks Jo and silently envies his creative range. It's been too long since she's written anything worth sharing.
"What are you thinking about?"
"Everything."
"Isn't that a bit too much of things?"
"Oh, it's just a little over the top Teddy, but I believe I can handle it. This mind is no stranger to overcrowding."
The same tree they used to climb when they were younger is now observing them, representing an eternal and haunting reminder of everything that once was. Jo is frightened. That silent way in which Teddy is looking at her is frightening. He is looking at her in ways she longs for to be different and his eyes have too many freshly discovered stories to tell. She is frightened she won't find those stories to be very pleasant.
"Do you remember that day when I told you how I wanted to run away?"
"How could I not?"
"I need to run away again."
Laurie doesn't need to hear it twice. He jumps over the fence and starts running, his arms widely spread, his tie and jacket long forgotten. It isn't real. Jo knows they will never go anywhere. The sun is setting and the lines of separation are clearing up. The sun is setting and challenges, struggles and complications lie ahead. She knows all of this. Yet, she hikes up her skirts like she's sixteen again and follows the path her boy has chosen for as long as she knows how to. Jo and Teddy run through the endless fields of gold, specks of sunlight meeting their bones. Teddy and Jo, Jo and Teddy, high in the sky for one last time before nightfall.
They keep falling over each other and eventually end up wrestling on the grass, occasional screams and consistent laughter adorning the air around them.
The last song of Meg's shoes. The last symbol Amy will ever paint on Jo's hands. The last wide smile of Beth's. The last understood conversation of birds. The last fellow of the trees. The last arrangement of flowers.
The last.
The last.
The last.
"Oh, to live in a world where there are childhoods, fields of gold and raging hearts."
"Grab a coat, leave a note and run away with me."
- William Chapman
#louisa may alcott#little women 2019#little women fanfiction#laurie laurence#jo march#amy march#my writing#beth march#meg march#taylor swift#folklore#evermore#jo × laurie
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