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writingforfishes · 16 days

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Otto and Atticus Lore 1: Mark's Hangover

The inspiration for this story came at the most inconvenient time. I was at work and as the images and sounds came to me, I had to fight hard to make it appear like I was actually present. The drive home was only successful because I had taken the way home so many times before as I was still stuck in the headspace. I mad-dashed this story when I got to my computer and ended up staying awake way too long to complete it. I edited it and changed it this morning.

This was NOT the story I was intending to create next! I hope it holds up tomorrow when I read over it after I've posted it!

I was also not intending on making a separate series on the lore of these two characters, but the asks in my inbox made me think about their pasts and inspired some deeper consideration on the plots and thoughts I already had in mind.

Disclaimers: This is a work of FANTASY. Otto and Atticus are such a good couple because I need them to be a good couple. This is not, for the most part, realistic. (Also, I don't even have a tambour style mantel clock, nor did anyone in my family.)

I don't know anyone who has a kink specifically for watching someone get aroused. If that kink does exist (or is just a normal way of people reacting), I'm completely unfamiliar with it and have created a possible fictional representation of a kink. Thus, any of Otto's thoughts are extrapolated from ideas I thought would be plausible. (I am very asexual.)

If anyone is familiar with the series Otto's character was based on, this is basically a rewrite of similar character dynamics. I give real-world reasons for the fantasy content in the series to have happened. I know nothing of police procedure or detective procedure.

I do not have alcoholism. I know a few people who are alcoholics, but I don't have personal experience with the feeling of being an alcoholic and the emotions that surround the disease. If I'm misrepresenting something here, I apologize.

CW (there will probably be quite a few in this one):

Representation of a hangover from an emotional drinking binge.

Allusion to Otto's past as an alcoholic and reflection as a recovering alcoholic.

Allusion to Otto's falling off the wagon at one point. (very brief)

Mention of Jana's addiction to prescription drugs and alcohol.

Mention of Jana and Mark's break up.

Uncomfortable hiccups that concern Otto.

Mention of throwing up and retching.

Hiccups that Otto thinks are suggestive of needing to throw up.

No depiction of emeto. Discussion of previous purge (very brief).

Verbal description of the sound of Mark's hiccups by Otto to Atticus.

Verbal description of Otto's hiccups from Atticus to Otto.

Arousal mention.

Arousal and follow through implication.

A small hiccup battle.

Otto being extremely patient and understanding.

Otto also being the Felix to Mark's Oscar.

I STG, children, just look up The Odd Couple.

Atticus being embarrassed.

Mark being embarrassed.

Otto being a well-adjusted bi.

Mark being a disaster straight.

Jana is not a bad person. I intend to prove this in future stories.

Alice is also not a bad person. Etc. Etc.

Realizing how much I do lean heavily in a masc cast. I don't know why that is. Ah well, it's my fantasy anyway.

Mention of Atticus' parents both no longer existing.

Long moments in the story where no hiccups occur.

Lots of exposition surrounding past events. (I know, I know. Show, don't tell. But I had a need to write it out.

Um, if there's other stuff please tell me?

Finally! The story!

It was 6:30am and Otto was just about to have his first cup of coffee for the day when he heard the stairs from the loft bed creaking with heavy, ambling footsteps. Otto watched with attentive curiosity as Mark lumbered into the kitchen in boxers and a white shirt.

“Hey HNGK’UH!…” the younger man muttered as he sat down heavily across from Otto and shielded his eyes from the lights.

Otto wordlessly got up, sitting his unsipped coffee on the table, and turned off the overhead light while drawing the shades of the small window over the sink to let in a softer natural light into the kitchen.

“HUNGK!”

Poor guy had a wicked case of hiccups, it sounded like, and Otto knew a bad case of hiccups. A few weeks ago, Mark had been on the witnessing side of a 5-hour case of hiccups to which Otto had been victim.

But Otto knew good and well this wasn’t just about a case of the hiccups. The hiccups were a consequence of Mark’s actions. Mark’s actions were a consequence of an exorbitant amount of alcohol had the night before at a bar after work. The alcohol binge was a consequence of the fact that the future life he’d been planning with Jana had been crumbling slowly around him after a whole bunch of unpleasantness and drama that proceeded the breakup.

Mark had been staying with Otto for a few months as Jana and his relationship started to disintegrate. Yesterday Mark had told Otto that Jana had come by the police station, where he worked, to retrieve the spare key to their previously shared house from him and give him some stuff that he’d found of his that she thought he might want back.

Otto figured the finality of it all probably hit Mark pretty hard when he got a call at around 1am. Mark was slurring into his phone so much Otto could barely understand him. He had Mark hand the phone to the bartender, and he was able to get the address and head over to retrieve the wayward detective. The bartender, consequentially, was Margie.

Margie did a very good job of taking care of Mark before Otto arrived. Otto was very appreciative of the gesture. She kept his friend safe. The next week he’d visit the bar again during the daytime and would be lucky enough for her to be working so he could give her more thanks. They would start to talk, and a friendship would form quickly, thereafter.

Like clockwork, a customary pun for a clock maker, Otto awoke at 6am despite the late night. He didn’t expect Mark to be awake until much later that day.

“Didn’t think you’d be up this early,” Otto said. He kept his voice soft and tried to minimize the sounds of his shuffling through cabinets. “How’re you holding up?”

“HNGK! I’m okay. Hiccups woke me. Could-HINGK!-couldn’t get back to sleep,” Mark replied in a hoarse voice just above a whisper.

Mark lifted his hand away from his face a little when he realized the lights weren’t as bright as they had seemed before. He squinted his dark blue eyes in Otto’s direction as he watched the taller man walk back and forth. He had to look away when he found himself getting dizzy while trying to follow Otto’s path. The dull ache of pain behind his eyes and sinuses made him squeeze his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

Mark wondered if Ralph would’ve been as respectful of his current condition as Otto seemed. Ralph would have, no doubt, treated his hangover with some humor. Maybe he would’ve spoken a little loud or turned on all the lights. Ralph might’ve been sensitive later to Mark’s plight, but his friend and work partner seemed the type to shock someone in his sad, hungover state with tough love.

Mark wondered if Otto might have had a little more experience with being in the detective’s similar situation than Ralph. Mark was not wrong in his thought process, impressive as it for his brain to have formed the thought in such a dehydrated and painful state.

Otto had taken the time, when he’d settled his friend down enough that he knew he wouldn’t wake and was safe from further purging, to silence all of the chimes and striking clocks he owned. Otto had, indeed, been in Mark’s shoes and physical state more times and to a greater degree than it was likely Mark had. One thing Otto remembered viscerally about those times is that he could’ve done with a little understanding and kindness despite the bad decisions that lead him to the consequences of his self-destructive behavior.

“Here,” Otto said as he sat a glass of orange-hued liquid beside Mark’s elbow. “It’s Emergen-C. Electrolytes and vitamins. You’re really dehydrated, man, and this is a quicker way to replenish that. Tastes like orange. This,” Otto held up a small pocket of wax paper folded over a small amount of powder, “is BC powder. Powdered Aspirin and caffeine. Quickest way to get some pain relief from that headache. You gonna puke? Those hiccups sound suspicious…”

Mark took a while to respond, his brain working on reserves with all of the pressure and pounding in his head. Right. The hiccups.

“Naw. Did all of that HNK!-that last night. HMGK! I always get these after a nigh-HNGK’M!-night like...like last night. Usually takes a HNK-UH! a while to stop. Nothing helps. Kinda like you-HNGK!-yours. Thanks,” Mark said as he took a swig of the glass. The Emergen-C’s light fizz felt refreshing even though the artificialness of the orange flavor was a little offensive.

Mark felt Otto’s warm hand on his shoulder before the older man crossed back to where he was sitting before.

Otto sat down and observed his friend’s pallor and slow movements. He had memories of his own struggles with hangovers. He also had memories of squelching those hangovers with more drinking. It was less ‘hair of the dog’ and more the whole damn canine. To be fair, it was an effective method for a while. Not really something that, Otto discovered, was sustainable.

“Yeah, just pour that powder in your mouth and wash it down really quick with the water. Trust me, you don’t want that taste to linger any longer than it has to,” Otto said as he watched Mark’s cautious handling of the wax paper.

Otto watched him make a face from the bitterness of the powder before the detective quickly gulped the Emergen-C flavored water as a chaser. Otto couldn’t help but give a little chuckle.

“You good?” the clock maker asked.

“Y-HUNGK!-Yeah. Ugh!” Mark exclaimed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“It’ll help, I promise. I know you feel like crap right now. No real shortcut to a hangover, man, but you can treat the symptoms. If you’re feeling like it, I can fix us both some breakfast after I finish my coffee,” Otto said.

“Thanks. That might b-HINGK!-might be good,” Mark said sheepishly. He jerked with another hiccup and tossed his head to clear his dark hair from in front of his eyes. He regretted the motion almost immediately as he winced.

Just as Otto was finally starting to take a sip of his still steaming coffee, Mark spoke up again and Otto met his tired eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Otto lowered the mug again, shaking his head.

“Dude, you don’t have anything to be sorry for,” he said with a sad smile. “Listen, man, you are going through some tough shit right now. I mean, I’m really glad Jana’s finally getting the treatment she needs. And you were a big part of that. And, well, you know, the whole malpractice lawsuit with that bitch blonde lawyer, Alice...whatshername moved that recovery along legally, but you were a part of it, too!”

Mark snorted at the cavalier summation Otto gave of his ex’s journey from addiction to almost losing her veterinarian license, to starting in a recovery program, to Jana realizing that she couldn’t hold up a relationship with Mark and recover at the same time. While he knew it wasn’t a personal attack, Mark couldn’t help but feel supreme grief in knowing that the person he fell in love with was going through something that, not only could he not help with, but that he was a hindrance in overcoming.

Not to mention he had purchased an engagement ring he had planned on unveiling at the right moment, which seemed perpetually postponed by upticks in crime and cases he couldn’t ignore. So, did he really blame her for not feeling safe in the relationship?

Otto was speaking again, and Mark looked up from his thoughts to listen. His body jolted again, and he was reminded that his hangover was still actively punishing him for his choices. The hiccups didn’t hurt, per se, but they were definitely hard, loud, and sounded pretty terrible.

“I mean, you know I’ve been in your place before. I mean, not exactly, but similar. No one would blame you for having a little self-destructive pity party. Just...not too many of them. Cause then you end up in the hospital 15-some-odd years later being told that your pancreas is on its last legs and one more drink could send you into a fatal situation. That’s...obviously specific to my experience, but you get it. Anyway, you got wasted cause you were grieving, and you asked your amazing friend who came to pick you up if he thought you were good-looking because for some reason none of the girls at the bar wanted to go home with the shit-faced drunk guy.

“And I meant what I said. You’re extremely hot and it’s so depressing that you’re completely so heterosexual. Like...painfully straight. Ugh!” Otto said, rolling his eyes dramatically.

Mark’s eyes had gotten so comically wide that Otto could see the bloodshot veins in the whites of them and the pink inflammation lining his eyelids.

“I HNGK-KUH!-I didn’t say all that, did I? HU’NGK!” Mark asked aghast as he rubbed his chest.

“You really did. Then you suggested we try being in a relationship because, and I quote, ‘you do guys sometimes, right?’ As if I haven’t explicitly told you my preferences. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered. But I just don’t think we’d make a good match.

“We have a dishwasher, Mark. We have a machine that does the dishes for us. In the kitchen. Next to the sink that has a garbage disposal. Why do we have piles of dirty dishes? Not to mention if I find your boxers in a load of my clothes one more time I...sneaky bastard. Like a thief except instead of stealing things you invade my loads of laundry, so you don’t have to do your own. Like that bird. What’s that bird? That bird who lays its eggs in the other bird’s nest and has them raise their babies, so they don’t have to? Fuck! Cuckoo bird! How the hell does a clock maker forget that?!” Otto exclaimed. “You’re like a damn laundry cuckoo bird forcing me to wash your underwear!”

Mark was having a struggle trying to coordinate his silent laughter with his forceful hiccups. His body jolted against the back of the chair again as Otto seemed to wind down.

“I swear, man H’UNGK!, I don’t remember any HNGK!-any of that. Seriously, I’m NGK!-I’m really sorry you had to deal with—ugh!” the silent hiccup thumped hard in his chest as it choked his words, “deal with me. Damn, these things are an-HNGK!-annoying!” Mark said, rubbing his chest again.

The detective did notice, though, that his headache had already started to fade. He still felt a little foggy and unsettled in his stomach, but he was already feeling better. He wasn’t sure it was Otto’s humorous distraction or the Emergen-C and BC powder. Perhaps it was a combination.

“You sure you’re good with the stomach stuff? Cause those things sound like little retches…” Otto said, still suspicious.

“Well, if you keep t-ANGK!-talking about the stomach stuff I might HNGK!-might start feeling sick, so…” Mark said, crossing his arms as he winced at another silent bodily jerk.

“Alright, alright. I’ll stop,” Otto said, holding up his hands.

“You’re not one t-HINGK!-to hiccup-shame. Mr. Five H-HUMPK!-Hours of Scary Ass Hiccups!” Mark exclaimed.

“Touché!” Otto said at the reference to the time the clock maker developed a case of hiccups that persisted for most of the day. When Mark suggested holding his breath, Otto’s body rejected the cure and gave him the fastest hiccups he’d ever had. Otto was sore for days after that night.

Otto finally touched his lips to his mug of coffee that was still quite warm. Mark chuckled before another hiccup hit him. As Otto swallowed, he gave his friend a questioning look.

“Ass hiccups,” Mark explained with a smirk. Otto would wonder later if Mark still wasn’t a little drunk.

Otto inhaled the coffee with a surprised laugh and started coughing violently. His coughing was interspersed with...well...hiccups.

“Shit! HUCK!” Otto exclaimed between coughing.

He looked up to find Mark covering his mouth, but mirth in his eyes, as he watched Otto’s struggles.

“No HNGK!-no way. Dude, do we seriously HNGKL!-have the hiccups at the same UNGK!-same time?” Mark guffawed.

“This is HULP!HMK!-this is all y-HMK!-your fault, man. HLMK! Dammit!” Otto said.

Mark just laughed again, another hard hiccup smacking into his chest and throat.

After a while, they both calmed down. For the next few minutes, it was quiet save for the call and response their hiccups played with each other. Otto continued to sip his coffee, stubborn to drink the warm beverage he was so looking forward to. Mark nursed the rest of the Emergen-C, energy that he had regained from before having dissipated as he stared into the residue on the inside of his glass.

Though Otto’s hiccups were still rapid they had decreased in strength while Mark’s stayed forceful and deep.

“HNGK!” Mark’s hiccups said.

“Hlp!Hip!” said Otto’s.

“HUNGK!…HMP’K!”

“Huck!-himp!mp!”

“HU’NGK!...UCK!...HMMNGK!”

“Huck!Huck’l!Hmpk!Mp!” Otto sighed at the fast cluster and patted his chest, muffling another hiccup behind his hand.

“Stop that!” Mark suddenly exclaimed.

Otto looked up from a paper he had begun to do the crossword on with confusion.

“You can’t t-HNGK!-tell me you’re not d-UMPK!-doing that on purpose,” Mark said.

Otto frowned, head jerking in more hiccups.

“You’re out hi-HILMK!-out hiccuping me. You’re doing one-HNGK!-one more hiccup each time,” Mark complained, grumpily sipping the last of his enhanced water. Most of it was, of course, put on. But he had genuinely wondered if somehow Otto was doing it on purpose, too.

Otto, for his part, had been oblivious to the hiccup war that Mark had been forging. But he smiled now, taking a haughty tone.

“Well…I am the hmpk!hip!-the sup—superior hic-hu’up!-hiccuper,” he said, battling through another cluster and putting a fist over his mouth as three more hit him in a row.

A beat past before they both erupted into giggling laughter at the ridiculousness. The laughter ended in both of them letting out a hiccup simultaneously, Mark’s “HINGK!” to Otto’s “Hi’ilp!” which sent them into another roll of laughter that perpetuated itself for a while before they both got tired and winded.

Otto’s hiccups ended before Mark’s and the detective ended up hiccuping for about an hour in total which left him feeling sore and tired. But Otto’s breakfast and subsequent lunch and pressuring his friend to drink more water helped Mark feel much better by the end of the day.

***

To be honest, Otto had been terrified that night when he got the call from Mark. Mark was a rational person who didn’t often let vices lead his actions. He had a very clear and logical leaning and seeing the man so out of character and destroyed shook Otto’s core. In addition, having to enter a bar again and seeing representations of himself in his worst times all around him being unnerving and unsettling in and of itself.

The main reason Mark and him had become the unlikely friends they were was due to a case of mistaken identity where Otto lived one street away from a man guilty of kidnapping and murder. Otto also fit the physical description of the man in question, which wasn’t much: a tall man with a beard and wild curly hair.

After Otto’s innocence was proven, he was still getting harassed by his neighbors who hadn’t gotten the news that the actual murderer had been caught and was being prosecuted. Otto had stormed into the police station with the dark-haired, blue-eyed detective in his sights. Before the police there could usher him out (forcefully) Mark stopped them and let Otto have his say.

Otto demanded that some representative of the police go around his neighborhood and clarify that Otto was, in fact, innocent. Additionally, someone had thrown a brick through his window, and he held Mark personally responsible for paying for said window’s replacement. Also, he hadn’t spent this many years getting his life back together as a recovering alcoholic to now be chased out of his home because of a crime he actually didn’t commit!

To Otto’s surprise, it was the lead detectives, Mark and his partner Ralph themselves who went around to every one of his neighbors and explained Otto’s innocence. They ended at Otto’s door with sincere apologies, especially Mark. He was, after all, the one who had tackled Otto to the front steps of his own house in the first place.

He was further surprised to see Mark at his door again a few days later. He gave him a check to reimburse the window and had another request for Otto. His girlfriend, he suspected, was abusing her prescription drugs and alcohol and did Otto know of any programs that could be of use. And could Otto, perhaps, be willing to help Mark understand some of what she was going through from a place of having gone through something similar? Mark didn’t understand addiction from a personal standpoint, and it was causing a rift between he and Jana that he feared was irreparable.

The request was incredibly personal and bordered on inappropriate and offensive, but something about Mark’s countenance endeared him to Otto. Otto could tell Mark was coming from a place of wanting to learn and though it was a heavy burden to share his vulnerability with a man who accused him from murder, he felt compelled to try and help.

So, Otto, who had been living a pretty secluded life up until that point, reticently decided to be of service to Mark’s questions. The friendship ended up being mutually beneficial. Otto hadn’t realized how his reclusive life had been gnawing at his mental health. It had gotten to the point where he was scared to do anything social for fear of losing control of his desires. Mark ended up being the soft introduction to an unexpectedly functional, safe friendship. It was something he’d never experienced before.

It took a while for Otto not to see Mark as some twenty-something cop made detective before they were mature enough to handle it when he couldn’t even handle his private life. And the clock maker was more than full of opinions about those facts that he didn’t at all hide from the detective during their friendship. But Otto’s gruffness was chipped away by Mark’s eagerness to learn and try to help his girlfriend, Jana. And perhaps if Mark had been more forward with Jana about that learning process and his intentions things might’ve ended differently. Finding out your boyfriend was talking about your most intimate personal struggles with a stranger was distressing and Jana was quickly losing trust in Mark and their relationship.

All said, Jana still remained part of their social circle throughout her recovery. And, of course, the story of the lawyer who led Jana’s prosecution which almost led to her losing her license and livelihood was a whole other story. Alice and Mark together. No one saw that coming.

***

Atticus continued to stroke and massage Otto’s scalp as he finished the recollection. Somehow, the clock maker’s head had ended up on Atticus’ lap while they both reclined in bed as he spoke. The writer often wondered if Otto was part dog with the way he’d flop on them at times and how much he appreciated his head massaged.

The story had started only because Atticus mentioned how they had a fantasy of Otto and another one of their friends having hiccups simultaneously. But, they were quick to caveat, if that actually happened, they wouldn’t know how they’d contain themselves. The fantasy was still a thought that gave them some arousal, though.

The fantasy reminded Otto of the one time both he and Mark had them simultaneously and his mouth ran away with the story.

“Wow. That definitely helps fill some gaps,” Atticus said. Learning more about the history of Otto’s friendships was enlightening.

Jana had moved a few hours away by the time Atticus had met Otto. She stopped by every now and then to reconnect, but Atty hadn’t been available for those sessions. After all this time, they still hadn’t met the person who’d, in many ways, triggered the events that led Otto to meeting them.

If Otto hadn’t been such good friends with Mark, and if Atticus hadn’t been a victim of a serial robbery in their old apartment complex, then Mark wouldn’t have known to suggest Otto to them after the thief had knocked an old clock Atticus had inherited from its shelf. That clock still existed and ran perfectly after Otto had repaired it. It was in the loft bedroom where Atty found themselves often to write or decompress. It was a tambour style mantel clock. Atty had it in their house growing up. Atticus didn’t even know which side of the family it was from. With both of their parents gone, they probably never would.

Clocks aside, Mark needing Otto’s guidance on Jana, in some twisted way, made it possible for Atticus and Otto to find each other. So, Atticus might owe Jana as much gratitude for them being together as Mark.

“Yeah, I forget you don’t know all of this stuff,” Otto admitted. Atticus seemed so integrated into his life that it didn’t occur to him to tell them how everyone connected.

All of Atticus’ friends were in their home state (or were relationships they’d made online). Once they’d moved, they had to make new connections. It just so happened, timewise, that Otto was one of those first connections.

“Mark was lucky to have you,” Atty said.

“Yeah, well, he saw me a lot worse than that later that year when I fell off the whole sobriety wagon. So…” Otto trailed off and seemed to snuggle his head further into the softness of Atticus’ thighs.

Atticus sighed. That story they’d heard. It wasn’t a pleasant one.

“You don’t have to do that,” they said. “Qualify your good deeds with having been more of a challenge to deal with at some other point in time. You’re a good person and you’re good at taking care of people. It’s okay to admit that.” Atticus scratched their short nails along the back of Otto’s head when they felt his neck tense.

“I know,” he finally said, breathing warmth onto Atticus’ legs in a huff. “I just wasn’t for so long...but...yeah, I know.”

“All I know is who I see, and who I see is amazing,” Atty said. They smiled as Otto turned on his back to look at them.

“Yeah, well, you’re pretty amazing, too,” Otto said, lips pulling back in a smile showing just a little bit of teeth, but it was a smile that met his eyes. “And that thing you said about not qualifying your positive traits? You’re gonna, like, do that too, right? Maybe give that one a place in the old self-talk dialogue?”

Otto’s finger reached up to tap Atticus’ temple as the writer glared at him.

“See? This is why I don’t give you compliments. Always got to turn them back on me. Like weaponized kindness. Smug bastard,” Atticus muttered.

Otto laughed.

“So what did they sound like?” Atty asked sheepishly.

“What?” Otto asked with a frown as he led one of Atticus’ hands to the middle of his chest and rubbed his hand over theirs. Atty had yet to figure out why Otto preferred their hand in that spot, but they felt honored, for some reason, to be led there.

“Mark’s…” they stuttered and stopped, then they tried again, “Mark’s hiccups.”

“Oh!” Otto said in understanding. Then he scrunched his brows again while thinking. Mark’s hiccups were so distinctive, and he was trying to figure out how to word the description accurately.

“They were kind of, um, gulpy? They seemed really powerful. Like each hiccup really rocked his body back. Um. Kind of wet, too? Not sure if that’s the right way to describe it, but it was like there was wetness in the back of his throat whenever he hiccuped that sort of...sounded...I dunno…” he struggled to find the word before he gave up and shrugged “...wet!”

“You said you kind of thought he was going to throw up at first?” Atticus asked.

“Well, I mean, yeah. But he didn’t. They were just really powerful and sort of...liquidy,” Otto said, still shaking his head with the inaccurate description.

“So, wet,” Atticus confirmed lamely.

“Yeah. Like the sound of someone who just drank something when they swallow. That sticky sound in the back of their throat, you know?”

“Oh yeah! Yeah, I know what you’re talking about! Okay...wow...actually that sounds kind of hot,” Atty said.

“Yeah?” Otto asked, grinning.

“Shaddup,” they responded grumpily.

“No, I think it’s cute. What do you like about mine?” Otto fished.

“You know, I like that yours are fast. As long as they don’t bother you too much.”

“Do I have any...hot sounding hiccups?” he asked. He was rubbing Atticus’ hand again.

“It’s just the variety,” Atticus said after a while. “Each hiccup is different. Each one is a surprise. I like when you muffle them and they get louder, and harder, and longer, one after the other, until you sound hoarse and have to open your mouth to let sharper ones out. I-I like what they do to your body. Gawd, Otto, your body moves with every hiccup. Your cute, soft belly jumps and jiggles so much and you do that thing where when your head is jerked back you blink like you’re surprised. And, just, the way you react, man. How you’re so casual with them but also trying to be considerate about them with other people or when you get a little annoyed that they’re interrupting you when you’re trying to say something it’s all just so...hot. Guh…”

Atticus could feel heat crawling up their neck in both arousal and embarrassment.

“Well damn,” Otto whispered.

“Sorry.”

“No, don’t be. I mean, when you say it like that, it does sound kind of hot,” Otto admitted. He put his fingers up to his mouth and started subconsciously nibbling at his cuticles in thought. “So, it’s not just hiccups but all the stuff around hiccups. I mean obviously it’s the body movements and the sound, but it’s more. It’s how I interact with my hiccups that’s some of what turns you on. The unexpectedness of them. Is it, maybe...Is it because I’m flustered by them?”

“Sometimes,” Atty admitted.

Otto nodded, squinting in more thought.

“I think...that’s sort of why I get turned on by seeing people aroused. They aren’t completely in control, so they just react without...being able to help it. And if they’re trying to hide it and I know it? That’s so hot. Seeing them interact with people and me knowing how hard they’re trying to keep control. Not exactly something we can ever roleplay, but it doesn’t take much when I notice that anyway. My favorite part is...well...watching them relieve the feeling. The myriad of emotion. Jeez. I dunno. My body just—and nothing else really triggers that arousal for me. Doesn’t matter how attractive someone is. It’s that. And I’m there in an instant,” Otto said.

“I can definitely understand that. Damn. It’s bedtime and I am so charged right now,” Atticus admitted.

“Me, too. You...you wanna watch one of those files I made for you? While-while I watch you?” Otto asked in a small voice.

Atticus gasped.

“Oh, gawd, can we? I didn’t even...I’ll get my ear buds. You probably don’t wanna hear yourself. Gawd, I want this so much!” Atty said.

That night as Atty watched the first video where Otto made his hiccups faster by holding his breath (recommended by Otto, himself) and Otto watched Atticus, the writer couldn’t be more grateful to Jana and Mark for their involvement in getting the two of them together. Never would Atticus had ever thought that a relationship could be this symbiotic and honest, that kindness battles were the worst of their spats, and that their most serious moments came from wanting to take care of each other and expressing their gratitude for each other.

#hiccups kink #hiccup kink #minors dni #hiccups #non kink blogs do not reblog #hic fic #otto and atticus #hicfic #18+ mdni #otto and mark #margie and otto #otto lore #atticus lore #I have no idea why this story came out so easily #This is not the story I planned to write.

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zutaras-where-its-at · 1 year

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one word prompt: success

okay someone with a pfp of iroh holding a lotus tile sent me this prompt, and i typed half of it and then accidentally DELETED IT FROM MY DRAFTS, so if that was you i’m so sorry! i’ll try my best to rewrite/answer it here!!!

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when zuko tries to propose to katara, he spends a whole month planning out the event.

we’re talking rows and rows of flowers, an imported water tribe chef to make her favorite dishes, a decorated barge to take them out at sunset for his proposal speech—fucking fireworks.

the day of, the palace is in the quietest uproar one can imagine, what with all the countless preparations that must be attended to while also avoiding alerting the water tribe ambassador to their movements. zuko himself is particularly harried, buzzing around putting out metaphorical fires that pop up every other minute.

and when he finally, finally is able to escort his lovely partner down the palace steps, into their private palanquin, and aboard their romantic sea-faring ride to the middle of the capital bay… zuko is mere seconds from kneeling before his future fiancé to pop the big question, hands fumbling around in his pockets for the gold and jade ring he had specially designed for her—only to find his pockets empty.

she’s looking at him with glittering, expectant blue eyes, hands folded demurely in front of her, tears of elation already beginning to crumble her beautiful face when zuko promptly curses, spins twice to frantically scan his surroundings, and then lets out a truly aggravated roar into the sky.

complete with flickering flames escaping his lips and all.

and because this is zuko—perpetually rotten luck, three left feet, complete antonym to the word ‘smooth,’ zuko—his frustration promptly sets fire to the drapes decorating their barge, which quickly erupt the tablecloth holding their water-tribe dinner, and subsequently sear the edges of their robes in the small space.

in her panic to put the flames out, katara accidentally bends just a tad too large of a wave that easily sweeps both them and their crispy dinner into the cold, salty bay.

as a nearby ship (containing the fire lord’s bodyguards who are never too far away from their liege) cruises at rapid pace towards them to offer help, the couple splutters water out of their mouths, sheds their outer robes to rid themselves of the water-logged deadweight, and immediately dissolve into hiccuping laughter that threatens to drown them all the same.

and as they cling to each other—his hair slumped wetly to the side of his head, and her makeup dripping quite messily down her face—zuko finally asks, “please, just say you’ll marry me.”

needless to say, the servants ship opts to wait a few yards away to respectfully give their fire lord and his fiancé some time to celebrate their successful engagement.

#this one was fun :)#also if you were the person who requested this please let me know!!!!#im so sorry i deleted it lol #zutara #katara #zuko #fic prompt #my zutara stuff

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irrevocableloves · 1 year

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violent delights

twilight rewrite! edward cullen x fem!witch!reader

chapter six: an old scary story

previous chapter ౨ৎ masterlist ౨ৎ chapter seven

summary: with edward still in her thoughts, will her trip to la push answer all of her unsolved questions?

warnings: blood, gore

words: 1.4k (unedited)

I tossed and turned in my bed, attempting a nap after today’s events, all that should’ve drained me completely. From nearly passing out in Biology, those images, the blood. I shivered at the thought. Then, Edward. No. I should be thinking about what I’d seen, how the world around me had gone completely silent as the nightmare of images had flared through my mind. But, no. All I could think about was Edward’s last words to me: Maybe another time. Just the two of us. It was all too much to take in at once.

Once I settled myself down on my desk chair with my computer lighting up my dark room, racking my brain for something to search. An answer to what I’d seen. The dreams I could ignore and blame my acute sense of imagination. But to be completely pulled out of my reality, to be shown gruesome images in the middle of Biology was something different entirely. I couldn’t even blame my trauma on that episode.

All that I could think to search was: ‘images flashing in my mind,’ which had brought me to the term hypnagogic: relating to the state immediately before falling asleep. I wasn’t asleep. Faint, yes. But no, it didn’t feel right.

The more I searched upon the hypnagogic state, it related more to hallucinations; things that couldn’t possibly be as clear as what I’d seen at all.

I’d given up by the time I decided to search up on visions, seeing images throughout the day, being pulled out of my conscious thought, but all signs had pointed towards severe mental issues and that I should get help immediately.

Maybe it was the shock. Maybe the blood had caused some sort of unusual hallucination from that night, maybe things that had completely blocked out my mind had risen up. But the boat? The dock? There were people… with red beading eyes. All of that was new.

I sighed, defeated, plopping down on my bed.

After a couple of minutes, I read the clock on my nightstand: 7:00 PM. I got up, deciding to go downstairs to start dinner.

I decided to reheat Harry Clearwater’s fish fry, frying it back in the oven and boiling a pot of rice along with a frozen pack of broccoli in the microwave. When I was nearly done, I heard my dad coming through the front door.

“Hey, Y/N/N,” he said, setting the mail on the table.

“Hey,” I started.

He started taking out plates and silverware out of the cabinets.

“Hey, Dad?” I asked. “Do you know a place called Goat Rock or something like that?”

“Yeah, why?”

I shrugged. “Some kids were talking about camping there.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “It’s not a very good place for camping. Too many bears. Most people go there during the hunting season.”

“Oh,” I mumbled. “Nevermind, probably got the name wrong.”

He only nodded, serving himself a plate of everything. I did the same. Then we both ate in our usual comfortable silence.

The beach trip had gone as usual, except it was Mike driving Tyler’s van because of my dad’s success in suspending his license. The rest of the group attempted to surf in the icy waters while Angela and I sat in the back of Tyler’s now dented van with the comfort of our sweaters and blankets. After an hour, we decided to set down blankets close to the water so Angela could take photographs.

Once they came back to shore, we all settled down in the sand.

I closed my eyes, letting the sound of the waves soothe my ears, tuning out the conversations about the dance (one that I probably shouldn’t go to since I’m without a date).

Before I drifted off, I heard a new group’s voice coming closer, opening my eyes, I saw a familiar face amidst the crowd. “Jake?” I called.

“Y/N!” He smiled, attempting to jog towards us.

“Guys, this is Jacob. You all remember Jacob right?” I greeted. Jacob had been there for all of my birthdays and had sometimes joined us on our beach trips, but he mostly kept to himself, only bothering to conversate with Angela, who was the least intense of the group so I didn’t blame him.

They all nodded, exchanging ‘hi’s’ and smiles.

Jacob plopped down next to me, asking about my car, which turned into an entire conversation about his growing obsession with cars ever since his dad let him work on mine over the summer.

Lauren walked by, an obvious hint of jealousy in her eyes. “Y/N,” she called out. “I was just saying to Tyler that it was too bad none of the Cullens could come out today. Didn’t anyone think to invite them?” Her tone was almost mocking.

I didn’t say anything. A boy had spoken up, he looked quite older than the rest. “That doctor’s family?” Lauren nodded. “The Cullen’s don’t come here.” A look of disgust plastered on his face.

I stayed silent. From the looks of the school, I knew the Cullen’s had a hard time fitting in, but they didn’t seem to care about social cues or how others perceived them. Even my father heard the gossip of the town surrounding the Cullens, but even he knew that they were good people, and that was a judgment that I was willing to trust more than gossip. Plus, I knew Edward. At least I think I do.

Once Jacob and I separated ourselves from the group, I sprang up a question: “Was that Sam? Thought he said he was too old to hang out with us.”

“Yeah.” He chuckled.

“What did he mean by ‘the Cullens don’t come here’?”

“Oops. Caught that, huh?” He laughed it off. “I’m not really supposed to say anything.”

“I won’t tell anyone. I’m just a little curious.”

“It's really just an old scary story.” He laughed. “Do you know any of our old stories, about where we came from – the Quileutes, I mean?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Well, there’s one legend that claims that we descended from wolves – and that the wolves are our brothers still. It’s against tribal law to kill them.” Wolves? He continued on, “Then there are the stories about the cold ones…”

“The cold ones?” I asked, feeling a shiver down my spine.

“Yeah. The legend with the Cullens is that they supposedly descended from this, like… ‘enemy clan’... According to the legend, my own great-grandfather knew some of them. He was the one who made the treaty that kept them off our land.”

I nodded, letting him know to continue on.

“The cold ones are the natural enemies of the wolf–well, not the wolf, really, but the wolves that turn into men, like our ancestors. You would call them werewolves."

My eyebrows furrowed. “Enemies how?”

“The wolves served to protect, while the cold ones… feasted.” I was getting impatient from his sugar-coating.

"So you see," Jacob continued, “the cold ones are traditionally our enemies, but this pack was different. They didn't hunt the way others of their kind did – they weren't supposed to be dangerous to the tribe. So my great-grandfather made a truce with them. If they would promise to stay off our lands, we wouldn’t expose them to the pale-faces.”

“What do you mean by ‘hunt’?”

“They claimed that they didn’t hunt humans. They supposedly preyed on animals instead.” Oh. I couldn’t believe I was actually considering this story.

“So, how does this fit in with the Cullens?” I breathed out, knowing the answer. “Are they like the cold ones that your great-grandfather met?”

"No." He paused dramatically. “They’re the same ones." I tried hard to keep my expressions flat, but failed as I saw the look on Jacob’s face. He smiled, looking almost pleased with himself.

“So… what are they? The cold ones?”

“Blood drinkers,” he replied, his tone darkening. “Your people call them vampires.”

Vampires. I didn’t realize how big of a breath I’d taken, releasing it slowly before speaking up. “Wow.” I laughed. “You’re a really good storyteller.”

A bit of a silence rose between the two of us. Vampires? Werewolves? I was dying to know if there was more. An answer to all of my questions.

“What about witches?” I forced out.

“What about them?” He seemed surprised by my question.

“I mean like… witches? Maybe even sirens? Seers? You think they exist?”

“They’re just stories, Y/N.” He laughed it off.

“Yeah. Right.”

“Pretty crazy, though, isn’t it? No wonder my dad doesn’t let us tell anyone about it.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep your secret.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “Please don’t say anything to your dad. He was pretty pissed when he heard some of us weren’t going to the hospital since Dr. Cullen started working there.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

next chapter

a/n: this chapter is superrr short and booooo no edward </3 but i really loved the book's telling of the legend of the quileutes and the cullens !!

tags: @measure-in-pain @brekkers-whore @rejectedbimbo @leilanileila @anothercoffeeblogx @cevans-winchester @trawberry-fire (if you'd like to be tagged, either comment on this post or click the link below!)

taglist ₊˚⊹♡

#violent delights #edward cullen x reader #edward cullen #edward cullen fanfiction #edward cullen x y/n #edward cullen x you #twilight #twilight rewrite #twilight fanfiction #robert pattinson x reader #robert pattinson #violent delights fanfiction #violent delights fanfic

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merakiui · 8 months

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I neeeeed ⭐ for death row undertow please it's how I found you and I still stay up thinking about sk!jade

Omg thank you for asking!!! :D I've written a little about the series here and here, but I'll discuss more below! Specifically Reader and Jade's relationship! (please forgive me for rambling. orz)

(ask game)

Originally, their relationship was going to be complete strangers! The early concept for DRU was a story that followed serial killer Jade as he looks for his next victim at speed-dating events (like a charming wolf eel in sheep’s skin). At one particular event, he meets Reader and the two of them click. From there he decides he’ll make her his next meal.

This was a concept I quite liked and it almost became the foundation for the story. But the more I considered it, I realized it might feel like a hollow plot without much dimension if it focused solely on Reader and Jade. I kept thinking, someone out there has to care enough for (Name) to want to look for her, right? The world may be stagnant when she’s trapped in Jade’s home, but beyond that it will inevitably continue. So surely someone will notice she’s missing. I want to portray that side, too.

Additionally, I wanted to write a story where readers can care about and root for the MC’s successes while actively hoping for Jade’s failure. I thought it would hurt more if Reader was on friendly terms and knew Jade before the kidnapping. It is said that many kidnappings are often someone you know rather than a stranger, so I thought it would be interesting to explore Reader’s fear and betrayal as she realizes her “friend” was never a true friend to begin with! And with this I considered dynamics and relationships outside of the main pairing (Jade x Reader). In the early plot, Reader wasn’t acquainted with any of the Octavinelle trio, but I eventually changed this factor when I began to write the improved version of the plot (which would also include the slow burn elements).

The early plot looked something like this: serial killer Jade kidnaps (Name) after connecting at a speed-dating event -> (Name) is terrified and lies about being pregnant to survive -> many terrifying things happen -> death of (Name) -> Jade gets to feast. Initially, I was content with this plot because it was sickening and thrilling, but it felt like something was missing. ^^;;; I worked hard to rewrite many aspects of the plot until it became a completely different version from my original imagining of it. :O

I thought it would be fun if Azul had an involvement with Reader. At first I wondered if they should be in a genuinely romantic relationship, but I liked the tension of a fwb situation much more. I like that Reader’s able to use Azul as her scapegoat in this situation. His presence is as useful as it is burdensome in her life. >:) it’s a transactional relationship that will make you wonder if there’s actual love there or just lust in disguise! Also, how else could Azul pull off his fake proposal if it was a real relationship without any strings attached? I really wanted to write a scene like that, but it would be more tense if Reader was constantly walking the tightrope of love or not love! Their relationship feels like the deep sea to me. What you see in the story isn’t even part of it. So much has yet to be explored… :)

As for Cater and Riddle, they were added as an afterthought. When I sat down to write the first chapter in summer of 2022, my mind blanked and I had no idea how to begin. Prior to plotting DRU, I was working on a wip in which Reader works part-time at a diner with Cater and Riddle. That (now abandoned) wip is where The Devil’s Delight comes from (as well as the Cater/Riddle/Reader friendship)! I was so attached to the aesthetic and the dynamics between the trio that I couldn’t just let it wither away into oblivion. So I worked it into DRU’s plot. It fit wonderfully with my vision, and so I could write smoothly from there! As a result of that, I’m very fond of DRU’s first chapter. :D it sets the mood I was hoping to convey perfectly!

Here are some notes from the (abandoned) wip that made it into DRU (aside from that note about the Mostro Lounge hehe):

I wanted Reader to have unique relationships with each of the side characters (not just Jade), as well as the characters themselves to have interactions with one another. I like portraying two sides of a thrilling crime story such as this one. There are plenty of exciting things planned, and a lot of relationship lore is set to be unveiled gradually. I hope you can look forward to it!!!! ( ´ ▽ ` )❤︎

#twisted chit chat #death row undertow

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neptuniadoesstuff · 2 months

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Comic/Novel Series that prob wont become a thing but who knows lol

It will be called "Fableling Myths" which will take place primarily on Fable & the now island based city of Aldikrass (used to just be a small town but due to Elemere's influence it became its own lil thing & kinda separated itself from the main land).

Now the timeliness is pretty similar to TES's timeline but considering these guys are technically apart of a AU that belongs to a frend of mine, it will be tweaked. (Yeh the Mynks are NOT Canon to TES at all, they're just a bunch of goobers I made)

Now here will be the (supposed) timeline (Might change later on):

FM: Dawn of Time (The rise of the Guild & also the creation of the Mynks + how they became to be) (Before the war started) (Mid ME - Late ME)

FM: Civil Disputes (Where Elemere is killed in her hometown of Aldikrass & later on where the Elemental War starts) (Late E1 - Early E2 (Also the time where Mina's current champion is born)

FM: Changes in Prospects (Years after the war ended & now things have changed in the species bcs Mina felt very.... let's say...not good about what went well. So she makes them completely different in body shape. Also where teh Generals & Cardinals become a thing) (Also Early E2 - Late E2)

FM: Finch (Aldikrass separates from the main land & Finch is born. But instead of being born in Fable she is born in the... Mortal realm? She meets a few foes (mainly mages bcs SHE IS A SPIRIT) & frends along the way but eventually finds the strange island city called Aldikrass & settles down) (Early E3 - Mid E3)

FM: Marksman (Take place primarily in Aldikrass & some of teh islands near it during the Oblivion Crisis. & yeah.... A bunch of monsters are everywhere to the point that Mina is really starting to not trust anyone (especially with that one incident with a certain Daedric Prince of nightmares) so with that she closes off Fable from humanity but selects a few Mynks to scout out the Mortal realm... Except none of them were successful... But in Aldikrass one the Marksmen (Mortal followers of Mina & the Guild as a whole) kinda had a contract with one of her Mynks... And that Mynk is... FINCH? The 2 do eventually reach the continent & do meet some foes... Especially a certain foe who was locked up in the catacombs of Fable for a crime that he committed so long ago yet so HEINOUS!) (Late E3 - Beginnings of E4)

FM: Cluttered Events (Multiple story's taking place during the current era/day. All primarily taking place on Aldikrass & Fable but also on the mainland but since the Oblivion Crisis was so recent... Some ppl believe that Mina was apart of it... Which isn't true bcs Mina COMPLETELY DISTANCED herself from everyone except for her mortal followers & the ppl of Aldikrass as a whole (Keep in mind she is actually OPENING her doors again but now in order to get in fable there will be Fableium Portals created by Mhnks who go out into the Mortal Realm). This thing will focus on the individuals whom are important (Like Mina's Champion, some pretty important Mynks.) (Also this is like the same timeline as Noirvillah so yeh) (Current Day)

Im not really sure what to do with this thing atm bcsI kinda succ at making actual making sense lore without trying to rewrite the whole gosh digity thing for like a lot of time so this is just a draft of what will prob happen in Fableling Myths' Storyline.

#neptuniadoesstuff #bub's writes stuff #Noirvillah #Fableling Myths #oc stuff #story draft

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orangetintedglasses · 1 year

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Knives had never truly felt fear before. At most, there had been flickers of concern, worry when aspects of Vash's rebirth were deviating from their perceived path, but they always smoothed over. He hadn't had a reason to fear anything, not until now-- and even that was an understatement. His experience with the Punk, still right on his heels, had caused a few more ripples in his emotional tide than just fear.

No, what he was feeling right now was terror. Pumping through his veins and pushing him to go faster, to turn corners without caring about how precise the turn actually was and slamming into things. To reach out with his senses to find the real Vash and barrel towards that blindly. He didn't need to find a door or window, he would make an opening wherever he needed one. Nothing would stop him from getting to Vash.

Not when the maw of Hell itself had opened up and threatened everything.

Wherever the world had cracked open, it was teeming with evil. Spilling impurities into the world and filling it with imposters-- literal demons and monsters wearing the faces of others that distorted and warped the original skin. Were they just different, tarnished versions? Or had they consumed the originals? Knives didn't care to find out while there was one still in pursuit.

But when additional swell of power he'd been feeling flickered and faded, and gave way enough for him to throw another net out to sense Vash again... it returned with something dim and weak, his signature as listless as a smothered candle flame. The feeling drove a fresh new spike of fear through the Independent's entire being, and despite the chase, had him slamming to a halt. What had happened?

"Vash?" Knives' query was posed to no one, eyes wide and scanning. Needed a location, where was his brother, where--

!!!

--there. Ten or so stories below them and a good handful of yards off, but Knives couldn't have cared less. Vash was in danger. He needed to go.

#temp. muse: millions knives/nai #( wherein fear over Greenie's condition is temporarily winning out )#event: rewrite successful ( COMPLETE )#curtains up ✧〗( ic )

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jpdoingwords · 1 year

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Assassin's Creed Odyssey Fanfiction

Three long fics and a bunch of shorts, drabble, and incomplete fics. Multiple ships, mostly mlm, some het.

All works are rated M unless otherwise noted, because there is canon-typical violence at times and there are multiple mild sex scenes. Some of these works are explicit - please be sure to check before reading if you aren't into that.

All on AO3 unless otherwise noted.

Assassin's Creed Odyssey Fanfiction

The Good Spartan

aka. the Alexidas The Good Spartan Summary: It's 431 BCE. Brasidas prepares to take up his first major posting, unaware of all that lays before him in the coming years of the Peloponnesian War. The story is told almost entirely from Brasidas' perspective and follows him from before his first major historical action at Methone to his last, at Amphipolis. This is a crossover between AC Odyssey and Thucydides' history, The Peloponnesian War, favouring Thucydides. I am being as historically accurate as I can, game canon is paid lip service at best. Historical notes are included at the end of each chapter.

Another Life: [Alternative Ending of The Good Spartan]. Summary: Brasidas survives the Battle of Amphipolis, thanks to Alexios' visit to the Underworld; but even before the battle, he knew he'd never go back to Sparta. He's no longer a good Spartan, nor willing to make the sacrifices required to go on pretending to be one. He just needs to persuade Alexios, and recover from his wounds… and together, find somewhere they might have a little peace.

Hunger, Desire, Anger, Roads [WIP] A collection of short pieces of writing and some art associated with characters (including OCs) and events around The Good Spartan, as it's currently published and alternative versions. These include threads taken from the original version of the fic and reworked; alternative points of view which develop characters who necessarily have no voice in the published fic; and a variety of other exploratory pieces set within this AU. They're all part of the framework around which The Good Spartan grew - and continues to grow.

Another Kind of Odyssey

aka. the Thalexios The Warmth of Home Summary: After the events of Odyssey, Alexios has been hiding from the world, loitering in the northern regions of Greece. When he decides to return to Athens for the winter, Demosthenes seeks him out for a job only he can do - whether he wants to or not. This leads him to cross paths with Thaletas again, discovering that this old flame burns the brightest of all.

Love Me in Storms [WIP] Summary: Following on from the Warmth of Home, Alexios and Thaletas face the challenge of making their relationship clear to their families back in Sparta, with mixed results. This fic fills in some relatively large gaps left between the original Warmth of Home (now completely rewritten) and Unfinished Business (rewrite currently underway), as well as taking some of the plot points out of Unfinished Business entirely and putting them here, in this new context. This is necessary to smooth over some serious timeline problems

Unfinished Business Summary: Stentor arrives at Stymphalos, where Thaletas and Alexios settled four years previously. He comes with a message: Alcibiades is in Sparta, and wants to see Alexios - urgently. Answering this request will sweep them into events they could not foresee. I’ve used many historical details to make this story and glossed over some others. I’ve added footnotes to expand on all of that, including references where applicable.

The Turning Tide Summary: Spring, 413BCE. The Peace of Nikias has ended. Sparta and Athens are at one another's throats again. Before the Peace, Sparta was having few successes; but they have a plan they hope will turn the tide against Athens... Against this backdrop of renewed hostilities, Alexios and Thaletas are called upon to complete a mission for King Agis, which will test them and their relationship in ways they haven’t been tested before...

In the Heart of Things Summary: 412BCE. Reunited after a difficult year, Alexios and Thaletas have been sent to Chios by King Agis to keep an eye on the situation there as the theatre of the Peloponnesian War shifts eastwards, into the islands. There, they will discover more than they could have bargained for about themselves and their people, and what it is that lies at the heart of things...

A Few Olives Summary: Alexios decided to buy a farm. Thaletas went along with it. But the plan was not what he had expected, but then nothing ever had been with Alexios. This is the story of a relationship that has grown up in difficult times, and peace is now the hardest thing to deal with. Thaletas struggles to know himself, and Alexios doesn’t understand. Sometimes things must break before they can be reformed.

The Fire and the Flood

aka. The Alexithenes This series is rated E. An Athenian Summer Summary: Early in the War, Alexios allows Socrates to lure him to Athens for the summer. During his stay in the city, his relationship with Demosthenes, not yet a general of Athens, will change significantly... But as the war rages on, will the pressures of the messy world beyond Athens' walls bring the pair together or drive them apart? This story takes liberties with canon; as much as possible, I try to keep characters true to their game-selves; original characters are mostly secondary characters, though of necessity I have provided Demosthenes with more character than he had in the game.

The Blue Cloak Alexios and Timotheos are flirting with the idea of being an item when, in order to help the brothers move past the events in canon, Alexios comes up with a plan to further Lykinos' dream of being a poet in Athens. Things take an unexpected turn when Alexios finds himself waking up aboard the Adrestia wearing a cloak he has never seen before.... aka. drunk Alexios gets himself into a situation. This is the edited version of a story previously published as So it is With Us. This version has an additional chapter added at the end and has been rewritten in parts, particularly the first half.

Short and Experimental Pieces

aka. The Deimos fic Shadow-Twin He felt like neither Deimos nor Alexios. They were two skins he’d shed - and what remained now? What new skin might he grow? Who might he become? They’d all demanded answers of him at one time or another. They’d all asked where he’d been when he went out, what he’d been doing. With concern or with curiosity or what they perhaps thought of as friendship. What they meant was: Let me in. Tell me who are you. He gave always the same reply: a grunt. How could he answer that when he didn’t know?

From the Darkness, Light: Brasidas & Deimos!Kassandra Having failed to keep his involvement in the assassination of the Monger in Korinth under wraps, Brasidas is sent by the Kings to Paros on a 'special mission' which he suspects is a punishment. His task is to find a missing lokhagos, but what he uncovers is far bigger and darker than the abduction of one man.

aka the Herodietas (Thaletas x Herodianos) Rising to the Surface: Rated E for the first two parts. After the events during the Mykonos arc of the story, Thaletas is left behind to face the consequences of Alexios' actions. Herodianos, who has been his loyal friend for a long time, does everything he can to comfort him - and so the hands of the Fates are set to work. This was an exercise in writing - Smut, Fluff and Angst, a chapter for each, in that order. Features the power of puppies to dispel the pain of existence.

It Was Just Red (Gen). "Nothing ever ends poetically. It ends and we turn it into poetry. All that blood was never once beautiful. It was just red." Kait Rakowski This story was prompted by a post I saw recently on Tumblr. It showed Kass sitting at the empty table back in Sparta during the final dinner scene, against which the poster had written something along the lines of: this is the best possible ending – the least amount of Spartans left alive. The following work is an exercise in exploring what that outcome might look like, and seeks to detail some sense of the possible shifting feelings Alexios might have around losing his whole family, mostly at his own hands (a version of the game I’ve never played and frankly never will) and to explore the main question this post prompted in me: Is there a way in which I might believe this could be the best outcome? Fair warning: This work doesn’t honour the game timeline, and as always, I'm disinterested in strict compliance with canon. It’s canon divergent from the get-go simply because it’s Alexios, anyway.

Odyssey Shorts Summary: This is a collection of odds and ends I wrote alongside longer pieces, mainly in response to prompt lists. So far, these consist of: Four based on the tarot: Alexios as a teenager throwing himself into the sea to Anais' horror (an early version of a piece included in It Was Only Red); Brasidas finding himself in the Underworld (a tiny fix-it fic); a tentative beginning to a Daphnae fic I've always contemplated writing; a scene with Demosthenes and Alexios which fits nowhere else; two snippets of modern day AU with an Alexidas focus; and a random Brasidas x reader which I have never written before and quite likely won't again. I will be adding to this collection in time, as I continue working through existing beginning and maybe a few little new things.

#assassin's creed odyssey #fanfiction #jpdoingwords #alexios of sparta #brasidas #brasidas of sparta #alexidas #thalexios #thaletas #ac odyssey #assassin's creed #aco #acod #alexithenes #demosthenes general of athens #demosthenes

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opreaadriann · 4 months

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Weekly Update - May 18, 2024

New update. Not too interesting though, as I had to rewrite a part and fight with my own ideas on and on. I’m struggling with Dylan’s relationship event, as I want to make him vulnerable, but I don’t want it to feel like it’s happening out of nowhere. And, due to the random events and all, I don’t know if it’s unnatural for it to happen or not so early. I guess I’ll just have to finish it and let you guys test it so I can get a feel from you as well.

In real terms, the word count of the chapter increased by around 3k words, but if I’d have to count the rewritten words for Dylan’s event, I’d also have an extra 2 to 3k words on top. I've written a complete random event where our MC bumps into Isaac and Haley at the Grand Brew, where you can attempt to prank that son of a biscuit.

The early access demo has been pretty successful in helping me figure out that there were some issues with the weekly system I’ve created, so I’ve made it more clear now. There’s also an issue with how Vivian is acting in the finance recruitment event if you’ve already met her “real” personality during the homecoming party, so I’ve got to work on that in the near future.

Thanks for all of the support! We’re getting close to the public release of the unfinished chapter and I hope it will help me make the story better and better! I’m also going to start working on a side story this week, so any suggestions would be appreciated!

#high school revenge #interactive fiction #if wip #romance #interactive game #choicescript

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makethosenarratorsfight · 1 year

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UNRELIABLE NARRATORS; SIDE A

Simon Snow Propaganda:

"BAZ ISN'T HERE, IT MEANS HE IS PLOTTING AGAINST ME, THIS GUY HATES MY GUTS AND WANTS ME DEAD, HE IS PLOTTING!!!!!" Meanwhile Baz has been kidnapped and the only thing keeping him sane is thinking about Simon Snow (because he's in love with him)

Dude spent 8 years sharing a dorm with his hot gay vampire roommate and was like “ah yea he’s so hot n sexy but NOT IN A GAY WAY HAHAHAHAAH i love women and i HATE this guy” cut to the vampires pov and he’s like “i fukcing love simon this stupid ass mouth breather i need to kill him my gay is becoming a problem” cut to them being enemies homoerotically as simon further deludes himself into thinking he hates his vamp roommate. Also when said roommate was missing from boarding school for 2 months Simon dedicated majority of his time trynna look for him and he was like “oOOoooOO HE’S PLOTTING I JEED TO FIND HIM” bitch ur gay accept it (he does clap for him)

Alcatraz Smedry Propaganda:

I think I'll start this propaganda section with a quote from the series's wiki about him: "It is difficult to get an accurate sense of Alcatraz's personality, as he intentionally alters how he portrays himself as a way to get the reader to hate him." Alcatraz is the narrator of his series chronicling his adventures against the evil librarians. In-universe, these books are presented as an autobiography. During the time he is writing them, he's viewed by the people he saved as a hero, and he wants these books to show how he isn't worthy of that title, and to show all the times he's failed and let people down. Throughout the course of the series, he will go off on completely irrelevant tangents, lie to the reader about important events, rewrite his and other character's dialogue to make himself sound lamer (or cooler, depending on how he's feeling), obfuscate the text in order to frustrate the reader, stop important scenes with his own commentary about the most random of subjects, and end on cliffhangers whenever he can. However, despite his best efforts, his books do indeed prove him to be witty, insightful, and caring. Sure he makes some mistakes, but his successes far outweigh his failures, and his unique writing style makes the story entertaining the whole way through. His books are a riot to read, and are pretty much guaranteed to put a smile on your face. And then you get to the end of book 5, the only time he is completely honest with the reader, and you experience the most depressing, gut-wrenching ending of any book I've ever read and finally see that every horrible thing he ever said about himself was true.

They are, in fact, not a fish.

#polls #unreliable narrator battle #unreliable narrators #alcatraz smedry #alcatraz vs the evil librarians #simon snow #carry on #alcatraz!! hi !! im legally not supposed to bias but i love you #side a

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creature-featurez · 8 months

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omg can i know ab betty and simon bc i also have one with like multiple parties at once im curious...

hello!!! sorry this took forever to answer (and for the... absolute novel that is the answer) this is surprisingly a very loaded question LMAOOO also sorry if i misinterpreted the question... i realized halfway through that you may have been asking something completely different...

putting under a [read more] to avoid being a terribly long post on the dash

First, I know you don't have a lot of knowledge on Adventure Time lore (at least I think..) so I'll probably be going on several smaller tangents and explanations of things so that the rest of what I explain makes sense. :3 If I get off topic, that's proooobably why. Second, the first "arc" of Reader's (my oc for anyone new here) story is heavily inspired by this fic, though I am currently rewriting it to be a bit more separate, and all of the later arcs are completely original. I like giving credit where credit is due, however.

OKAY! So now back to the actual question LMAO

In Adventure Time, there is a great war among humans somewhere in the 90's-2000's. It's a nuclear war that wipes out most of humanity and leaves a lot of radioactivity around, essentially creating an apocalypse for any surviving humans. In my au, this war takes place sometime in the late 90's. The seeds for Reader and Simon being in a relationship exist as early as the early 90's, though circumstances regarding the both of them being unable to further their education together prevent it from ever really going anywhere. Reader (who is still female presenting) struggles to keep up in the very male dominated field of anthropology and archaeology in the 90's while Simon easily finds his footing in doctorate programs. (He's cis in this au sorry Simon.. it just makes the most narrative sense.) Reader eventually loses contact with Simon as they drift away from each other and this is around the time that Reader goes missing, finding an ancient shrine and making a deal with a deity to survive the upcoming war. This is about 3 years before the nuclear fallout from the war. Meanwhile, Simon and Betty have met and the canon events of Fionna & Cake / Adventure Time are playing out for them! They find the Enchiridion (a magic book Simon was looking for to prove his studies on magical relics isn't bullshit), fall in love, get engaged, and this is around the time Simon loses contact with Reader. And then Reader's family reaches out to Simon. Reader has been missing and no one can find them. Betty comforts Simon during this time, but there isn't really much anyone can do. Eventually Simon finds the crown and becomes cursed, and Betty time travels 1000 years into the future to help save him like in the show. And we're back with Reader! Who accidentally overslept surviving the war by 800 years. They wake up and realize very quickly that they are (1) no longer human and (2) definitely not in the 20th century anymore... After a while they also learn they are immortal. About 200 years later, Reader is a successful healer, using 20th century medical practices and whatever they can find in centuries old texts. They've gotten quite the reputation as many families have been using their practice for generations, and rumors have spread that they can cure even curses (much to Reader's chagrin). This is when Betty, who is now going insane desperately trying to save Simon, visits their shop. Of course, when Betty learns that Reader can't, in fact, cure curses, she's pissed. They get into a big fight and Betty is banned from Reader's shop. The two don't interact again by the time Betty actually does save Simon from being cursed as the Ice King, and Reader never puts 2-and-2 together. To make a very long explanation a very short one, Betty saves Simon by fusing with a chaos deity named Golb, becoming Golbetty. She then returns to this void between universes, leaving Simon once again mortal but now all alone. 12 years later, Simon and Reader reconnect! They slowburn fall in love, but Simon isn't really over Betty, esp when it comes to wanting to save her. Simon is trying to reach Golbetty through an ancient shrine, but Reader is completely unaware of this. Reader is left in the dark when it comes to a lot about Betty, actually, but respects Simon's privacy. The two of them settle into life together after reconnecting after 1000 years, both having long accepted the other died in the 90's, and things seem okay for the most part...

WE'VE HIT ARC 2 WHO CHEERED

Okay so things aren't all that okay. Turns out becoming a weird pseudohuman fucks with your self-image and connection to humanity, who would have thunk! This isn't anything new for Reader, who already associated their being nonbinary/transmasc with being turned into a creature shortly upon settling in the Land of Ooo (tho: author's note, they were always nonbinary, it's just hard to accept that when you're already struggling to make a life for yourself in a male dominated career in the 90's. Reader is mega-coping.) But reconnecting with Simon kind of made it... worse. Sure, Simon was cursed for a while but he got out of it mostly human, where Reader is very much not human. They find themself comparing how they once were to how they are now and feeling inadequate for Simon. Simon tries his best to help, but there's only really so much he can do. Things only get worse when a witch comes along who claims to know exactly what kind of creature Reader is. Reader is a golb-beast, a rare (often only thought to be mythical) creature created by being cursed, or in some interpretations blessed, by Golb. Reader is the only one of their kind known in existence, and this witch worships Golb. Knowing magic, she is able to manipulate Reader's curse so that they attack Simon, almost killing him, and in the chaos of everything she kidnaps Reader. The captor (I need to name her..) has a mansion that is decorated with statues and artwork of Golb, think Catholic cathedrals, and she initially locks Reader in the basement where she has a dungeon of sorts. She's kind of really fucked up and treats Reader like an exotic pet she tamed rather than a sentient human and even goes as far as to only let them eat raw meat it's crazy. Reader keeps up hope that Simon will come for them but the captor tells them (a lie) that Simon ran away from them when they attacked him. He's scared of Reader being a beast and won't be coming back for them. While Reader doesn't believe this at first... the longer they're trapped the more doubt starts to set in. Meanwhile Simon is actually losing his mind trying to find Reader after healing from his wounds, but to little avail. It takes months before he even gets a real lead. Eventually he is able to rescue Reader but in the chaos a fire starts. A statue of Golb falls and crushes the captor, killing her instantly while Reader watches. It should feel good but... Reader is emotionally crushed. It takes them a long time to get used to being back in the normal world again. There's a lot more I didn't cover here bc it isn't too important to Reader and Simon specifically, but there's a lot Reader has to overcome. This entire situation really sets them back on feeling human and accepting themself as they are. This time, Simon can't even seem to really help them when they're at their worst.

(continued in a reblog bc apparently i flew too close to the sun with this post...)

#creature reader #winged reader #asks

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hexhomos · 2 years

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i rlly want to write longer fics but i can never get past the first 1k words no matter what 😶 how TF do you write up to 30,000+???? pkease im DYING

This is a question I often battle with myself and it's one without an universal answer, imo. I can offer you advice that has worked for me, but you'll have to administer it following your own habits!

I’m putting this post under a readmore because it ended up being fairly long. (Tips, resources, links and book recs below cut)

In the throes of intensive fixation, I managed to write Catafalque's 32k in about ~2 months. But I think it's important to be clear here: 2 months of active, every day writing, even when I was feeling kind of meh about it, and I had already spent the previous November thinking about a lot of the themes / scenes / structure of the fic before I got to the writing part itself. I was also helped plenty by the fact that the fic is borrowing time locked events from Arcane's canon, and I knew exactly how things would play out for these characters ahead of time, meaning, I could explore alternate possibilities without a lot of stuff bogging me down. Readers would know what I was talking about by implication! I can just go on and on about feelings and abstract concepts and it's fine!

Compare it to my latest fic though (’Meat gets caught’) which sits at a hefty 6k, but also took… about 2 months of flubbing in the backburner, LOL. The Idealization period for this fic was considerably larger for a Way Smaller Output, since I was juggling characters people are mostly unfamiliar with, events they had no baseline for, and establishing a set character dynamic that is clear to me, but not to others, all in very a short allocation of paragraphs.

Now here's what I mean by the above: There is no standard speed to writing, and you should be aware that the process Will Be Different from author to author *and* project to project. It is a fallacy to believe success follows only one mold.

Ideally, you should stop thinking about big numbers altogether. Focus on the NOW. You want to finish a story you think might be kinda long, but you lose steam when trying to write aaaaaall that bullshit? ok then here's tip number 1 --

1) Just write 300 words a day. Every day. Make it a hardset goal, and avoid skipping this daily exercise as much as possible.

300 words a day for 30 days = 9000 words, easy. The objective here is giving you a task that can be completed without a daily headache. Maybe your minimum can be 200 words, if you prefer - so long as you write them. Pick a frequent or comfortable timeslot to do it, and make this a routine. Focus on finishing scenes, finishing a chapter, finishing whatever section you're already on. Keep going until you reach the end of your story.

You can edit it tomorrow, or when you're closer to completion. (I do a lot of fiddling with my words! I'll often edit my stories dozens of times, more if you're counting section rewrites or re-arranging paragraphs. Editing is your friend. Wait a little bit to see where you've messed up though. Fresh text is tricky.)

The good thing about setting this bar low, is that if you can only write your minimum of the day, that's perfectly fine. Close the doc and let it rest. But just the act of starting and working on the thing by itself is a surprisingly potent battery - there's days where i find a good rhythm for things and end up hammering a whole 1k, since my hands are already on the keyboard.

Tip #2, following on the footsteps of the above:

2) Use a different font color for each day. Make your progress actually *visible* while you're composing the document.

This can be as simple as alternating between black and dark blue to keep it non-distracting. (You can use other, crazier colors if you're into it though!) It's immediately rewarding to be able to scroll back through what I've already written and see that organic growth - days I wrote little, days I wrote a lot, how the text is still changing and being affected by what i do. I have an issue with abstract goals, I *like* being able to see how much progress I've made, and it gets me hyped to pinch in a little more.

3) EDITING IS YOUR FRIEND.

first drafts look and read like gummed up garbage. You should give imperfections a license to exist.

That's ideal! Don't be discouraged. Trust that you can come back and fix things when you have a better grasp of the whole piece. You can always edit it later. Remember: Polishing your text with time is not a bug - it's a feature.

4) BE FUCKING INDULGENT.

Writing is an inherently embarrassing act. This is self explanatory. Now, since you’re already there, just make the most of it.

If you’re really on the path towards a long con of a plot, make sure to sprinkle in gifts for yourself. Write about something you enjoy. Put in details that make you laugh. Make your characters go on your own big wubbyland adventure. ‘writing for an audience’ instead of for yourself can quickly kill the enjoyment (and drive) of anything.

5) Lost or confused? Think of your INTENT, FORM, and STRUCTURE.

I can't remember the last thing I wrote without an outline to guide me as the months wore on. I think it is deeply important to write down somewhere accessible, somewhere you can look back on:

What is the intent of this story? What am I trying to say?

This is a little cheat just for yourself, so you stay on topic. And you can broaden that question with a few more qualifiers if you like:

What is the sequence of events? What *themes* am I trying to convey? What are the major beats/ scenes/ actions taken? Can you break it down into a clean list of bullet points, one for each step of the story? that might help you a LOT. More than you'd think. If you find that helps you - make it a checklist. Make every little turn of the story into a micro goal that can be reached through narrative, and go ticking off the boxes until you’ve covered the whole thing.

You can even make this into a dedicated planning document by itself, put your themes, keywords, and bullet point outline all in one place. So when you're in the process of writing and your mind goes a little blank, all the refreshing elements are saved up nicely somewhere. Feel free to cheat.

...So that's INTENT and FORM -- what about STRUCTURE?

Mary Robinette Kowal did this great explainer on the structure of short stories and how to plan them, and the ideas she introduces here can be used to write fiction of *any* length. I highly recommend giving it a listen. If you're not used to thinking about story structure, this can be very clarifying! And if that's already something you worry about, the formula she provides is a great starting point to baking your own sourdough.

Structure is a broad subject depending on the specifics of your fiction, and this is where we begin to run into things like ‘Genre’ and ‘Point of View’ and the rubric stretches really wide.

When in doubt about structure (and genre), my rule of thumb is always:

1) Find something similar to what I’m trying to do

(what are things similar to this? what are the most popular examples of this? how were these things written, to express those ideas?)

2) Read up to see how they do it

(separate the stories into their barest components - how are the events presented? How is style used? How are characters developed -- what pushes characters into developing? What are the recurring themes? What connects this fiction into a cohesive, recognizable whole?)

3) Try to apply whatever notes I took from above ^^^^ into my own project

This might be obvious, but ‘questioning my story’ or ‘questioning my characters’ is usually how I begin developing all of my writing. You might be more attracted to another method! (and that’s okay) but this is the stuff I can offer.

More vaguely useful resources on structure/plotting or literary theory;

Ellen Brock’s (Novel Editor) Advanced Story Structure series

‘Monkeys with Typewriters’ by Scarlett Thomas (book)

‘Steering The Craft’ by Ursula K. Le Guin (book)

‘Story Genius’ by Lisa Cron (book)

If you read through *just* the intro of some of those you’ll notice that they all have very different takes on these topics (and some may even contradict the others,) which is what I think makes for the best path to self-discovery. Explore different stuff, test it out, throw it away if it doesn’t work etc. And while I can’t post direct links here lets just say these are all. ummmm. Very Findable in the internet! Get an epub reader. Highlight a bit.

now that structure is over and done with, let’s move onto my last tip:

6) Seriously reconsider the size of your story.

A lot of people really don’t like being told this, but someone has to do it.

You’ll notice that a lot of my above advice (and resources,) errs on the side of assuming you want to write something at least as long as a 200-300 page novel. I can’t really blame them, since that’s just the state of the industry and ‘what sells’, and these ideas are so prominent they have transferred to nonprofit hobby spaces to the point people tend to think that bigger IS better -- but consider, maybe it isn’t.

Maybe the story you’re trying to tell can be condensed into a 15k word oneshot.

Maybe you can *actually* get it done if it’s a collection of important character-related scenes split into 3 chapters, instead of a whopping 50.

Maybe the concept eluding you thus far can become stronger if you let go of the preconception that it needs to be a drawn-out epic, and just write it as a potent roller-coaster ride that ends before the hour is up.

I’m not saying you need to undo all the work you’ve already done - but consider the whole! Making the scope of your writing smaller works on your favor. Unless you have a natural knack for it, I really, really wouldn’t recommend making your first serious attempt at longform writing a 100,000 word behemoth. ‘Done’, as a goal, is immediately more achievable than ‘Perfect’!

You can get a lot of mileage out of short stories and oneshots, and it can be more satisfying for you, as a writer, to complete whole projects in a realistic timeframe.

anyway. Maybe this will help you, or maybe it won’t. But in any case: I wish you the best of luck in this journey and I hope you can find what works best for you!!!

#hexposts #meta tag #i guess #resources #writing resources

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viviennes-tears · 8 months

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It's just an illusion (Loki, Thor and Odin drabble)

18+ blog: It is YOUR responsibility, as a reader, to think about the content that you consume at your own discretion. ~

A/N: Thank you to anonymous for sending in the prompt back in October 2023, apologies for the lateness, I am trying to get on track. Although I will admit this one was a challenge as there wasn't a lot given in the prompt for me to go off with, I had to do a few rewrites before landing on this version, but I hope it's good enough 😊 x

(Prompt requests are still closed just finishing the last from October 2023)

Prompt requested by Anonymous on Tumblr: Prompt - Loki has done a lot of bad things, but Thor and Odin weren't exactly the perfect brother and father. Thanx!

Summary: Loki, Thor and Odin are in therapy after the events of New York as they had promised Frigga to sort through their issues. Thor is his usual boastful self, while Loki and Odin loathe every second. However things get out of hand when Thor mentions Loki's jealousy and his chaotic behaviour.

Warnings: Family disputes, mentions of physical and mental torture, favouritism and illusions to hide the pain behind

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"I do all these things to impress my father...you know make him proud of me. I also can't deny the fact I enjoy all the attention too. The clap on the back from friends and fans. Or the innocent smile from the shy women is always a treat. That look, you know that look, the one that means they want to know what it's like to be with a real hero." Thor's boastful behaviour had completely gone off course, causing the female Therapist to clear her throat and shuffle in her seat. Loki rolls his eyes which triggers Odin to grumble at him for directing it at his brother.

"Let's bring it back to the relationships you have with odin and Loki." The Therapist says after recovering and trying her best to remain professional.

"Right...I feel that after my time on Earth and becoming an Avenger there's some mutual respect between myself and my Father. As for things with Loki and I...I feel as though he is jealous of my success." Loki scoffs as soon as the words leave Thor's mouth. "See, he's just proving my point!"

As Thor continues to complain about Loki's behaviour Loki gets up and starts to head out however he doesn't get very far. "Lo-"

"SIT BACK DOWN!" Odin barks over The Therapist, "you made a promise to your Mother that you would stay until the end." The mention of Frigga is what made Loki stop in his tracks, and he sighs heavily, then he returns to his seat as he doesn't want to let her down again.

After everyone settled down again The Therapist turned her attention to Loki. "Loki...a little while back Thor had been exiled and Odin was in Odinsleep, Asgard was then under your rule, given you were the next in line. Frigga had entrusted Gungnir to you and she believed in you. That was quite a lot of responsibility to suddenly have." She says gently and watches Loki's expression carefully, yet she notices that he is trying to seem unaffected by her words, however the way he nervously plays with his hands is more telling than his mask of indifference. "You went down to Earth during that time to inform Thor that he is to remain in exile and you mentioned that the burden is now yours to bear in his stead. However things started to escalate after that time. Thor and the Warriors Three had to put an end to it before things got out of hand, Odin had awoken by that point, but you had given up, falling off the Rainbow bridge in the end." She continues speaking gently, but he clearly knew how to keep his emotions masked well.

"We never imagined after grieving after the fall that he would come back and reap havoc over New York." Thor pipes up, his words are spoken with weight to them, yet it angers Loki due to his choice of words.

"I HAD NO CHOICE!" Loki yells, as he stands up abruptly and points his finger at Thor. The brothers continued to argue for several minutes, The Therapist trying her best to calm things down, but Odin was losing his patients and began to head out. "Where do you think you're going?! You promised Mother you'd also stay until the end." Loki throws Odin's words back at him and he knows he has him for that.

"Can we all just take a deep breath and sit down?" The Therapist says, as she stood up herself now and put her hands out to gesture for there to be calmness now. Odin grumbled to himself but remained standing near the door, Thor settled down as if he had been scolded like a child, whereas Loki took a little longer before sitting back down this time. "I understand that therapy isn't easy, but things won't change if you don't try...now Loki in your own words calmly explain as to why you didn't have a choice about the events in New York." She continues to say and hopes they will get somewhere as long as Loki cooperates.

Loki's jaw tightens as he contemplates what he should say. He's never been the one to talk civilly about anything to do with emotions, the lack of anyone being in his corner, but also his struggles of dealing with the consequences of his actions. The room is silent for the most part, Odin clearly impatient in the back of the room, but all eyes are on Loki. The Therapist can see he is struggling internally about how to address this topic and therefore she gently reaches out her hand and places it on his arm for encouragement.

"I don't enjoy hurting people...I-I don't enjoy it. I do it because I have to...because I've had to. It's a part of the illusion...it's the cruel elaborate trick conjured by the weak to inspire fear...when you have nothing else left to lose and at your most vulnerable state anyone can bend your mind to do their bidding. Your own thoughts are murky and crossed with someone else's ideology while you're being both physically and mentally tortured...you lose yourself. You don't want to do it, but you have no choice." The pain in Loki's voice was evident to what he's been through and having to do it alone. The hefty weight he has been burdened with and the consequences from those actions have all come to a broken shell of man he once was.

A shimmer of green covered around Loki for a few seconds, the walls of an illusion he had created came down, revealing a much more dishevelled Loki. His hair unkempt, his clothes baggy and torn, his face much paler than usual, his eyes bloodshot and dark circles beneath them. Thor's eyes widened in shock and his jaw lowered, he had no idea, seeing his younger brother in this state after what he said hurt him deeply. Odin showed very little in light of everything. Not that Loki expected anything from revealing the truth.

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Tags:

@jennyggggrrr @foxherder

Loki Masterlist

Source: @viviennes-tears

#its just an illusion #loki laufeyson #thor odinson #odin #asgard #threapy #family disputes #favouritism #prompt request #drabble #fanfiction #hurt loki #viviennes-tears

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