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filamentlights · 4 months ago

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Water in Our Bird Bones

Clone x OC Week - Day 3, Conflict || Wolffe x OC

Event Masterlist

SUMMARY: Of all the brilliant ideas the Senate’s come up with, a Core World dance troupe performing for the men for “morale” was up there on Wolffe’s list of Stupid Things Politicians Do. Still, the reprieve is nice. That is until he’s confronted with some ugly truths about his armor…and his dancing abilities.

Word count: 3.3k

Tags & Warnings: social & political commentary I guess, environmentalism, descriptions of canon typical violence, brief talks about terrorism and violence, folk dancer oc, inspired by Tibetan folk dances, Wolffe learns to dance

“You’re delusional. What you’re suggesting is treasonous. I know the Chancellor; he is a good man!”

Wolffe had his helmet off, so he had to fight to keep an impassive face. For all Skywalker bitched about how he “wasn’t a messenger bird” for the Chancellor, he sure was quick to come to the old politician’s defense.

She looked at Anakin. A small, lithe frame, a good head shorter than the Jedi. Wolffe recalled her name was Mirjala, when she’d introduced herself to them walking off a ship ramp with flashy, glittery eye makeup. She opened her mouth. Then closed it. Wolffe noted, with some unease, that she seemed unsure how to react. Almost frightened. He couldn’t blame her—the General was quite a bit taller and definitely broader, with an accusing stance that was anything but friendly. If it were one of his brothers, he’d smack the dumb kriffer up the back of his head for being so imposing on a being so clearly smaller and weaker. He exchanged a small glance with Rex. She breathed in.

“Do you…. do you know why this troupe exists, Knight Skywalker?” Mirjala asked politely, fiddling with her fingerless gloves—plucking at the woolen fibers. Around them, people bustled around moving boxes and setting up the large stage.

“No,” General Skywalker replied tersely. General Koon made to intervene but Skywalker plowed on. “How does this relate?”

“Humor me.”

Wolffe watched Skywalker twitch, half amused at the man’s clearly volcanic temper and half wanting to tell him to sit the kark down.

“Fine.” Skywalker bit out, giving Wolffe another reason to want to put his face to a cheese grater. Fucking bantha balls, how could they let this man have a child. “Tell us why.”

She bit her bottom lip. Still pulling at fibers, but looking unperturbed, oddly enough.

“Twenty years ago, you could find our dances anywhere on Alshaka.” Her face turned distant. Not so much looking at them as she was looking past. “My people have always loved art. Our greatest achievements were our monuments. Every child learned the steps to the Geshan in their afterschool hours. Our most popular places were our museums, our theaters, our studios.”

The small woman exhaled shakily.

“And then, ten years ago—I was only nine at the time—there was an uprising. A civil war, of sorts. It had started as a small band of extremists, who claimed that we were being kept docile and happy with our arts because it made us easier to control. A laughable sentiment, really, as our arts were our greatest export in the sector and it made us loved. But slowly, the small band grew larger. Louder. But it all changed when a private military group, an off-world PMC, decided to throw their lot in with the extremists. And suddenly it wasn’t so much a small band of malcontents as it was a makeshift army.”

Mirjala closed her eyes. Glitzy blue paint covered her eyelids, lined with rhinestones.

“I’m sure you can infer what happened next. They destroyed everything. Eight thousand years of history. Burned.” Mirjala murmured. Her voice, however soft, commanded their attention entirely. “We begged the Republic for aid and, to their credit, they did give it to us. They got rid of the extremists, stopped the riots and the lootings and the burnings, on only one condition.”

She opened her eyes. Staring straight at Wolffe, he suddenly felt naked. Perceived.

“May I see your vambrace, Commander?” She inquired politely.

He looked around. Skywalker’s face was unreadable, but General Koon gave a weary nod. He unclipped his right vambrace that didn’t have his comms, and handed it to her. She took it gently.

Handling the piece of armor with care, she turned it over in her bird-like hands. Wolffe almost wanted to snort. That thing had been through shitty mud-filled sinkholes and Seppie-made acid rain; it could survive more than a little rough handling.

“How long have you had this for, sir?”

He wanted to laugh. She definitely shouldn’t be calling him sir.

“A year and ah half ma’am. Lost my first in a downed ship.” He said crisply. She nodded.

“It’s served you well.” Wolffe thought she was looking at his banged up vambrace with a little too much reverence. Everything on him was standard issue stuff. Still, she handled it carefully.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She ran her thumb over the strip of gray paint, and traced the edges where the polish chipped. “You’ve taken great care for it. The plastoid is holding up remarkably for its age. ”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

She handed the vambrace back to him with a soft smile. Downturned eyes.

“They gave us humanitarian aid and representation in the Senate as a system on the condition that we allow the Republic to mine our lands for peraleum. Plastoid is produced from peraleum.”

“My people were left scarred from the uprising. The streets were quiet. There was nothing to celebrate when we were burying by the masses. Our grief was too great. There was too much damage. The surface of Alshaka is tough, and it takes great time to create proper burial sites. Many families, mine included, had to burn their dead because it would take too long to properly bury them, and the bodies would rot. My brother now sleeps with the wind, instead of in the earth with our ancestors.” Wolffe watched her eyes follow his vambrace as he gently clicked it back in place, feeling a bit like he should apologize for even wearing the armor.

“I’m sorry,” Skywalker offered. It was mournful, something also on the tip of Wolffe’s own tongue, but it sounded too pathetic for what she was saying. “Your people have suffered greatly. But that has nothing to do with the Chancellor.”

You also haven’t told us about why this troupe exists, Wolffe mentally added.

He stayed silent.

“My people have recovered much faster than was thought possible thanks to the economical boon that is the peraleum mining industry. But it’s left our land barren and poisoned our air from the fumes that come from processing plants. In turn, we have fueled the Grand Army of the Republic by supplying its soldiers with armor.” Mirjala nodded towards where Wolffe and Rex stood. “But sometimes I wonder whether this would have happened had that period of instability not granted the Republic foothold in our land. The same PMC that nearly destroyed us would later dissolve and find work as trainers on Kamino. To train soldiers. Sanctioned by Chancellor Palpatine’s administration.”

You could hear a pin drop in the silence she left, Wolffe thought. One look at Rex’s stiff shoulders told him he was as tense as Wolffe.

“We dance on the stages of Coruscant, stomach the degradation of our art for your ignoble elites who view us as exotic puppets, for charity. For the children back home.”

She inhaled sharply. She bowed.

“Thank you for inviting us here to perform for your brave soldiers, we are honored. We will dance here. However tell your Chancellor we will not perform for his private gala, as we are a charity organization of prestigious dancers, not circus monkeys at his beck and call.” And with that, she disappeared into the throng of people.

Wolffe stood by the edge of the stage, tapping his foot impatiently. Dancers in colorful, cascading costumes passed by. There was going to be a dance performance meant to boost morale for the men. They were an elite core-world troupe that people in the upper echelons of Coruscant would apparently sell their left kidneys to get tickets to see. Elite, artistic, and so far up above his pay grade. Ha.

He noted that they seemed to move in flocks, tittering with bird-like hands and gliding across the floors like clouds. In contrast, his and the 501st men looked worn. Dirty. Clusters of men slumped over, finding busywork for their hands cleaning blasters and such. And each time the two groups met, it was like watching water roll off stones. Dancers flowing gracefully past clumps of walled-off, weary men.

“Commander,” a soft voice greeted him. He looked up to see Mirjala. She had on a long royal blue skirt lined with fur and a fitted yellow top the color of wheat. Without the fingerless gloves on, he could truly see how delicate her fine-boned hands were, connected to slim but well-defined arms. Her hair fell in two braids woven with silky blue ribbons. She smiled kindly. “Thank you for agreeing to meet me. I am sure you are quite busy.”

Truth be told, he could be using this time to catch up on reports. Still, he afforded her a small shrug. There was something in the fact that this curious woman, dressed like a folklore, had called him over that pushed away his irritation. “What do you need?”

She smiled prettily, this time with teeth, giving Wolffe a somewhat foreboding feeling.

“No.”

Mirjala rolled her eyes.

“Oh please, you haven’t heard me out yet.”

“I am not dancing on a stage.” True to his title, his tone was commanding; expectant that she listen without question.

“It wouldn’t be onstage,” she protested. By now she was sitting cross-legged on the stage, her skirt pooling around her, though that still gave her some height above the broad soldier, so she crouched down to meet him eye-level, propping her head on her hands. “We’ll come down to the floor and invite all the audience members to join us. I just want you to be the first.”

“Why?”

Mirjala fought against her second eye-roll of the day, but the commander’s deadpan expression told her he caught it. Her mouth twitched.

“Because,” she began patiently, mentally pretending this was just a petulant child she was speaking to. It is just a bothersome student, she told herself. “Your men are understandably tired and a little wary of us.” She waved a hand at the clusters of people, separated like oil and water. “I want you to be the first one to join us because then others would be more likely to follow your example. They’ll be comfortable once they see their commander and fellow soldier join our dance. The idea is everyone can dance together and have fun.”

“But why?” For a fully grown man fighting a galactic scale war, Wolffe was surely competing with her youngling students for the most Mirjala eye-rolls in one conversation. Skies, she could hear a whine in his voice.

“It’s to make the performance engaging. Meaningful,” she emphasized. She huffed, immediately seeing the disinterest in him. He did have an excellent poker face, but she could sense the disdain from his pointed silence. “Commander, it’s nice and all to watch people perform in front of you. However I’m sure I’m not the only one to notice how removed the dancers are from your soldiers. We can dance however much we want and as well as we can, but there is a fundamental difference between us.” He scoffed.

“Because we’re clones?”

“Because we have fundamentally different experiences of life,” Mirjala corrected. “What resonates for us won’t resonate here. Our dances are all nice and pretty to you, I’m sure. But it’s totally different if we can immerse the troopers in a dance; connect and celebrate on the same level.” Mirjala was well aware of what their position was. This was a Senate ordered performance; a paltry offering to “boost morale” for the soldiers dying for their political squabbles. None of the troopers here care about glitzy, shimmering dances. Not with any real depth at least. To them, they were just another band of merry little Core worlders ordered by the Senate to twirl in pretty dresses as a bandaid solution to their struggles.

She could see the gears turning in the commander’s head. Daring to push it, Mirjala clasped her hands together and looked at him with wide, doe eyes.

“Please, commander,” she implored softly. “I think it could really cheer them up.”

He held her gaze stonily for a long moment.

“Fine,” he groused. “It’s a good idea, but I can’t go up there.”

“Why not?” Mirjala pressed. She was so close to getting him to agree!

“Can’t dance.” He grumbled with a glare, looking like the world was at fault for giving him these inabilities.

“Oh! I’ll show you.” She quickly stood up, brushing off her skirt. At his reluctant look, she waved him up frantically. “Come on, it’s easy. The steps are easy.” Hesitantly, Wolffe jumped onto the stage in such a clean jump that she envied his ease of movement. He was clearly well-trained and athletic. He stood beside her at the center of the stage awkwardly.

“You can set your helmet down,” Mirjala offered.

“Right.”

He set the thing to the edge of the stage, more gentle than he normally would. After hearing her talk about his vambrace, it felt wrong to just throw it.

“Okay,” she cheered. “Just start with your hands at your sides, loose and relaxed. Now first just swing your arm from the back, going up into a circle, and coming down on the opposite side in front of your torso.”

Wolffe swung his arm.

“Okay, good, again!” Mirjala gave him a thumbs up. “Just less I’m gonna hit you and more gentle.” She demonstrated the movement again, making her arm arc over her head before laying it softly in front of her. “Now try it with your other arm.” She wanted to giggle, seeing his face scrunch in concentration.

“Yup, just one arm up and down. Other arm, up, over, and down. Softly, softly. Yup, that’s good! Big circles!” She cheered, doing a happy little jump while he waved his arms around like a fool, making Wolffe feel like a particularly accomplished ceiling fan. He glared at Sinker and Boost, who were snickering from beneath the stage.

“Don’t pay attention to them,” Mirjala murmured, moving her body to block the pair from sight. “Performance is all about confidence. Okay, now let’s add the legs. Just lift one leg in a small hop—opposite leg, opposite arm—and move in time with your arm circles. Yes, yes! Soft hands!”

Wolffe relaxed his hands.

“Ok, but hands strong!”

“You just said soft hands.”

“Yes, soft hands but strongly.”

“Pretty sure that’s an oxymoron.” She ignored his muttering.

“Loose and relaxed, instead of looking like you’re about to form fists.” Mirjala reprimanded playfully. “But still you need to put energy in them so your hands are straight and long. It’s should lengthen your lines.”

“Like this?” Wolffe tried, uhh, energizing his hands. The blasted woman just giggled. He did not pout.

“Relax, relax,” Mirjala wheezed between giggles. She took a hand into hers and shook it. “You’re overthinking it and it’s making your hands clam up.” Mirjala stroked his hands, holding his large palm and brushing his fingers out from their curled positions.

“You’re very concentrated on getting it right,” she continued, patting his gloved hand. “But you need to relax and enjoy the dance. Don’t think about anything, just enjoy how your body feels. Relish in the movements. Let it connect through you. Be free.”

Mirjala looked up to realize a blush was steadily creeping up the commander’s neck. She released his hand with a gentle smile.

“That doesn’t make sense.” Stars, he was acting like a cadet.

“Not any logical sense, no,” she agreed. “But dance is about emotion, not logic. Let’s try again. Just circle your arms and try to connect it through your body.”

“I look like an idiot.” He didn’t want to admit to grumbling, but Wolffe knew he sounded more petulant than he’d like. His ears burned, knowing this woman was watching him fumble around.

“All dancers start this way. Unsure, because all we do with our bodies these days is work, work, work. Even I did.” Mirjala glanced at him. His eyes were downcast, clearly not believing her. “But you have a better start than most.” She grinned when she saw him look up, eyes snapping to hers questioningly.

“It’s true.” Mirjala continued, smiling reassuringly. “Since you’re so athletic, your movements are sharp. Clean. Many dancers have to work hard and build up the muscles to have such clear movements. But you already move fluidly, aware of your own body and of each muscle, thanks to your training.” Mirjala watched him slowly brighten up—well, brighten up as much as he could.

“Alright,” he sighed.

“Okay, let’s just do this arm movement together.” She began whistling a simple tune. One arm up and over, and then the other. She continued until Wolffe started to keep up, his movements getting less tentative with each try. Plucking up his courage, Wolffe then added in the little hop. One arm up and over with a hop, and then the other, repeat. Mirjala smiled at him blindingly, and he was surprised to find himself grinning back. Faster and faster, they danced. In time with her simple, cheery tune, they hopped around onstage wildly. Wolffe felt himself get more comfortable, throwing his arms in the air quicker and quicker.

He then- shit. Wolffe stumbled and his hand hit hers, squarely nestling his palm into hers.

He made to pull away and apologize but she just grabbed his other hand and began spinning them around hand in hand. Her whistling grew louder, and grew faster and jauntier. He found himself humming along. Wolffe followed her lead and bounced with each step. They spun around the stage, making her thick blue skirt flare out in dazzling circles around her. Wolffe took a step towards her, taking the lead, and twirled her, one arm holding her hand above her head. Someone below the stage wolf-whistled, but he ignored them.

“The next part of the dance, we hold hands in a large circle,” she explained to him, breathless. Following her lead, he released one hand so they stood next to each other with only one pair of hands linked. He copied her movements of bouncing each step on the balls of his feet, traveling to the left of the stage, and then to the right. But once he got bored of it, he began twirling her again with one hand. Mirjala stopped whistling to laugh. He watched her throw her head back, a flush in the apples of her cheeks from smiling so hard.

Eventually, when they were both tired and breathless, they slowed to a dizzy halt and flopped down in the middle of the stage, lying side by side.

“You really love dancing.” Wolffe watched her relax in the sun, seemingly soaking it all in. A light sheen of sweat coated her forehead and flushed cheeks, and he had no doubt he looked the same.

“Yes,” she breathed. She closed her eyes and exhaled, smiling. “The feeling of it, the freedom. The stage beneath my feet and the air under my arms. When I dance, I’m free.”

She turned to him, settling heavy eyes on him. “Thank you, Wolffe.”

“For what?”

Mirjala smiled, and Wolffe thought it made her shine brighter.

“I haven’t danced like that in a long time,” she admitted, sounding a bit shameful. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my troupe, but we’re all…you know, dancers already. We’re all…” she trailed off, searching for the word.

“Too good?” Wolffe offered, somewhat sarcastically but also recognizing her meaning. She huffed, and he took it as an affirmative.

“We do the same things with only a few variations, and we dance like circus monkeys for the Coruscanti rich and elite. They don’t get it. Art is emotion, and it is for the people. Everyone. And we put everything in it: our grief, our pain, our blood. But they buy up all the tickets, hoard our shows, and give them away to their rich friends as bartering tools for their next political campaign, and watch us all like a menagerie of exotic birds. Donating to our charity cause like giving sour jogan fruit to beggars. They don’t get it. That’s not how it should be.” She looked at him, and he felt like his soul was on display.

“Fuck the Senate,” he managed to squeeze out. She broke out laughing, shutting her eyes and breaking their eye contact to guffaw, and Wolffe felt like he got his soul back. Or maybe she still had it, because his head was spinning and he felt all too light.

“Yeah, fuck those guys.” Mirjala grabbed his hand and lifted it, beaming, and looking like a woman from folklore.

“This is what it should be.”

A/N: The dance Mirjala and Wolffe do is inspired by Tibetan Guozhuang folk dances! It’s meant to be a big dance with many participants, usually community members, in a circle while singing. From what I understand, it seems like a big communal bonding experience where people of all ages join and dance together, from grannies to little kids, and I’ve even seen videos where even foreigners were brought in and everyone vibes together, and I just think it’s beautiful. And Mirjala’s costume is heavily inspired by traditional Tibetan wear. Also sorry to Anakin stans, but he's a bit of an ass in this one. Also, you've probably caught on, but the beginning is a thinly veiled commentary on how environmental protection is gutted for the profit of corporations, and how that usually impacts low-income marginalized communities the most. I'm about as slick with “peraleum” as George Lucas is with naming the greedy corrupt senator Halle Burtoni (Halliburton is a fracking company)

@orangez3st @clonexocweek

#clonexocweek day 3 #clonexocweek2025 #clonexocweek #clone x oc #star wars the clone wars #star wars #the clone wars #writing #commander wolffe x oc #commander wolffe #tcw wolffe #wolffe x oc #star wars clone wars #rex #clone wars #sw anakin #anakin skywalker #filamentlights #my fic

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miraakulous-cloud-district · 1 year ago

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No way, am I actually posting a WIP?!

My dears, so much is happening, and as always, when I am entirely too busy for anything, inspiration hits. I still have very complicated feelings about my writing, but progress is progress and I've been tagged by @illumiera for a wip wednesday.

I am very conflicted about ch. 17 of WYGTYA because it's just so sad, angsty, and the subject is something that I relate to very much, and I feel my readers might do the same, so I really want to do it justice. For now, I'll post a scene form ch. 3 of HOTHS. I'm cooking up something about the Akaviri swordsman because he is joining the crew now! I'm gonna tag @bougainvillea-and-saltwater @kiir-do-faal-rahhe @dirty-bosmer @bostoniangirl21 @pitiable-arisen only if you want to, of course!

“It is a one time thing. You have to trust me on this one.” The Altmer shouts.

“Trust, huh? To think that I still have some to spare…” Signe sighs. She gives Rhaim a firm, but apologetic look and turns towards the Akaviri brothers. “Lead them all to the big ship.” She says, and now raises her voice a little louder. “Whoever is able to fight and wants to bring these motherfuckers to their doom is more than welcome. We need to hold them off until the big ship leaves dock, and fight our way through the frigate.”

“I’ll fight with you.” Renjiro says with a determined look under his furrowed brows.

“What?!” Both Signe and his brother speak at the same time.

“You need me. They all do. I want to do this.” Those determined eyes now turn to pleading.

“I don’t -”

“There’s more to me than meets the eye. Trust me.”

Signe sighs, rolling the word trust in her mind until she’s seen all its faces and meanings.

“I don’t want to put a kid in danger.”

“I’m not a kid. I’m nineteen!”

“Your name ends with ‘teen’!”

Renjiro grunts, then takes a step closer to Signe. “I’m the greatest Akaviri swordsman. With these swords, I killed a God. I think I’ll manage some pointy-eared assholes in fancy robes.”

Signe doesn’t know quite what to say to that, but the intrigue makes its presence known. He barely whispered it like it’s a secret that he’s laying right at her feet. She looks into his deep obsidian eyes and yeah, there’s a young, ambitious kid staring back, but there’s also something more.

“Alright. Say goodbye to your brother. We might not go back home for a while after this, if we survive.”

The young man gives her the most brilliant grin and turns to his brother, saying something to him in a language that Signe does not understand. His brother swiftly brings their foreheads together and says something back, looking more proud than concerned. ‘Good,’ Signe thinks, and then, with no warning, the young Akaviri unsheathes his swords and sprints to the approaching Thalmor. So many that they were forming a sea of soldiers, the sand barely visible under their robes.

“I like the kid. Think he’ll fit in just fine.” Rhaim winks at Signe before transforming into a werewolf and charging towards the Thalmor.

Initially, he was supposed to appear only in a couple of chapters, but I love him so much that I had to add him to the crew! Still not sure if I will go with the 'I killed a god' storyline, but I like it so far, so probably it will stay!

#wip #tag game #hoths

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madame-fear · 1 year ago

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okay, so, hi... here to ask a serious question: is there anyone else here who finds the aemond/LUCERYS ship DEEPLY disturbing??? like really, really fucking bad. the disgusting, chris hansen vibes, "have a seat" kind of bad

LUCERYS is a CHILD killed by aemond in an accident. aemond's so called obsession with lucerys is due to his wounded pride and a missing eye, nothing else ffs. WHERE DID THESE PEOPLE FIND ANYTHING ROMANTIC IN THE POOR'S MAN ATTEMPT TO AVENGE HIS EARLY CHILDHOOD MUTILATION??? WHY SHIP AN OLDER (ae is like 17 while lucerys is 13), FULLY GROWN MAN LOOKING GUY WITH A LITERAL CHILD???

no fucks would've been given if this sick ship hadn't become one of the leading fanons in the fandom... it's even more popular than Aemond/Helaena (which is actually somewhat canon compliant). people are insane

SCREAM IT LOUDER FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK NONNIE 🗣

No worries nonnie, I’m certain a LOT of people on this blog will agree with you — because I myself do. LIKE SERIOUSLY WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK????

I have all the tags related to that ship filtered because I can’t stand seeing it 🤢 And needless to say I swear to god I got fucking tired of seeing Lucemond art (WHICH IS SO WELL MADE I WANT TO CRY??? WHY CHOOSE THAT SHIP?) on my Pinterest feed that I had to see if I could block some users that did all things Lucemond related.

Also I seriously can’t believe it’s one of the leading ships in the fandom... I would’ve believed Daemyra, Alysmond, Rhaenicent, Helaemond are the leading ships — NOT LUCEMOND????? I mean I respect everyones ships but this crosses a big ass limit for me.

And on GOD trust me when I say I have blocked people with so badly sick content about this ship, my blocklist is long af. One of them did Bunny!Luke and Aemond fetishist content (... with... gasses and all of that I can’t even explain it because I literally physically recoil...), another one did MPreg Lucemond, other one Lucemond related tickle content???? I swear to god I get stomach aches and feel ill whenever I see something like that.

It’s just creepy not "enemies to lovers" trope, Aemond literally killed Luke in a poor attempt to hunt him down out of spite for what he did when they were children. It’s literally disgusting.

THANK YOU for speaking out about this. It had to be said and I sincerely feel tired of seeing this shitty ass ship every-fucking-where.

#lucemond? no thanks. huge pass.#┆ ⤿ 💌 come chat with amira .ᐟ ୭ #ask box #ask box messages #ask box open #✧.* amiraverse #lovely anons <3 #hotd #house of the dragon

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alchemiclee · 10 months ago

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i've been told/keep seeing posts about people suddenly not liking when people add tags to their posts with their own thoughts/feelings/opnions/experiences, and even people that say not to tag with certain common organizational tags (like ships for example i see the most. some people use a ship name for organization purposes and not necessarily for shipping. for example i use "collei and her dads" for cyno, tighnari, collei art for my organization so I cam find them again and theres been a few artists screaming not to use ship tags and that could be seen as a ship tag. so what do i do? not organize your art into my tags and let it get lost and never seen again? not share your art at all? kinda silly but whatever, ill just ignore your art).

I personally think that's all a bit ridiculous....i don't know if that's a more recent thing (like with twitter people coming here suddenly and expecting to act like this is twitter) or if it happened in the years since I took a break from tumblr. but bAcK iN mY DaY we used tags as a little whisper to add our own thoughts without interrupting the main post. adding hard comments or replies was more seen as "too much/too loud" if it wasn't something directly meant for OP. tags were usually never meant for OP and were always for the reblogger and their followers. these days more and more people seem to think tags on their posts are all speaking to them directly or interrupting their post (not to say you can't speak to OP through tags, like i'll say nice things about their art in tags) but not everything in someone's tags on a post they reblog from you is for you! you can ignore it!!!

I know on twitter (where I went after leaving tumblr a while back) people use quote retweets to speak to the OP often. but not always. I sometimes would quote a tweet to add my own thoughts while using the quote as like a citation to credit OP for the idea. but I have a few times where the OP thought I was speaking to/about them and got very upset about it. one was a large account who quoted me back and got very nasty and sent their minions after me. quotes are louder than tumblr tags. so that's more understandable, and I was always very hesitant to do it, but I personally see indirect tweets about another post as extremely rude and posting screenshots of tweets on twitter is also rude.

I loved coming back here mainly for the tag system! I missed being able to share a post and also quietly add my thoughts. go on long rambles related to the main post without stealing their post completely or needing to make a whole new post. I know most old tumblr users get that and don't care, probably. I NEVER saw anyone complain about it in the past. only say how much they love it. it was just part of how this site worked for us. a culture thing we naturally created. so i'm assuming it's mostly new users who don't get this culture? it also doesn't help tumblr made it so you now see tags in your notes tab and not just comments added and replies. before, you would have to go to "someone reblogged your post" to see if they added tags because tumblr only showed comments. I personally LOVE when people add tags to my post with their thoughts and stories and whatnot. ai i'd go to every reblog I got to see if there's tags added. it's like an uncommitted interaction. they dont expect a reply, i don't expect a reply. they are isolated thoughts, but still related. it's still a form of interaction, without the pressure of being direct, and I feel seen/heard when they add them. (it means they're not a bot, auto reblogging my posts /hj) seeing tags on my posts i'm not just shouting into the void alone and someone sees me. me adding tags to a post is a gentle "you're not alone/I hear you/im a real person not a bot" from me. but it also could be me saying "your post inspired me! I want to write something too! but im being quiet about it so i dont take away from your post and your post gets all the credit" when I add my own little tag ramble.

so the fact that people are now suddenly being upset by people adding their own experiences and thoughts to tags is super disappointing and and frankly annoying. tags don't take away from your post and you can just ignore them! no one is forcing you to expand the tags in your notes and read them! hardly anyone will see them. most will only read your post and not people's tags! I know no one usually reads my tags because i've added secret messages to the end of my tags and no one ever responds to it lmao things like send a pic in my ask and i'll draw it for you.

yes I know "RESPECT PEOPLE BOUNDARIES" but it kind of disrespects my needs as well. theres a thin line between someone's boundaries being crosses and someone's needs not being met. but that's a whole debate i'm not willing to have so don't start it. (not that kind of boundary is easy to not cross. not bringing up arguments. but asking people to not use a main function of a website is kind of pushing it imo...) yeah I want to respect boundaries the best i can, but unless you say in the post "don't reblog and add your own tags" no one will know and you get upset when no one knows. and no, no one will read your profile/pinned post before reblogging. no one will go to the original post and read your tags. they will only reblog it right off their dash if they aren't seeing it directly from you in the tags/for you page. some people will reblog 100 posts a day. they won't go to every profile/original post before reblogging just to see if you have any special conditions and rules for your random one post out of hundreds they see a day. that's too much to expect, honestly, sorry to say!

but this is tumblr. maybe it's better for people to accept the culture/etiquette here and let it happen without complaining, or realize this isn't the place for them! because it doesn't meet their needs and boundaries! and that's ok! it doesn't have to be your place. you don't need to stay here if you don't like how it works! asking an entire website to "respect your boundaries" by not participating in a basic or essential function of the website is a little ridiculous to be fair....

no i'm not saying your boundaries don't deserve to be respected. i'm saying this probably isn't the place to have those boundaries in the first place. because there's am established way this site functions that works in counter to your wanted boundaries, so it just doesn't fit your needs. and like I said that's ok! you don't need to stay here if it upsets you that much! it's better if you find a social media where people can't share your posts. like a simple blog site that doesn't have a share function! or like Instagram? people cant share those posts. (sorry, I dont know much about social media) if you really want people to stop adding tags that bad, either turn off reblogs completely, or ask staff to add a notification option to turn off seeing added tags on reblogs! (if you're veeerry lucky, and not a trans woman, they might listen to you)

#lee text #lee rambles #tumblr culture #tumblr tags #am i the only one feeling this? did i even explain it well? idk but its been on my mind for a bit #SORRY FOR THE SUDDEN LONG SERIOUS POST ILL GO BACK TO SILLY LITTLE GUY POSTING NOW #sorry if this is worded horribly. hopefully no one misunderstands and gets angry at me. if you want to respect boundaries so much #my boundaries are dont argue with me because you misunderstood me or dont agree 🤷 if you think its ridiculous i ask not to say you disagree #then you understand where im coming from! so if you disagree you cant say it or youre a hypocrite lmao #this is just half jokes. but i do really hate arguments so i will just ignore you

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greetingfromthedead · 1 year ago

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C70: Time Catches Up

For more information on the series (tags, CW, etc) click the banner!

Series Rating: 18+ / Explicit

Chapter: 70/84

Words: 1.8k

No particular warnings for this chapter.

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Vash closes the door to your little room behind him, and he turns to face you again. Your head lifts slowly with the hood, and he sees your face, covered in dark and crusty blood, with the exception of where your tears have been streaming down your cheeks. Your eyes are bloodshot and puffy. He can hear your ragged breathing through your slightly open mouth now, better than before, as you look at him.

"Iris..." He knows you are falling apart, and there are no words he could speak to change that, so he simply walks up to you and pulls you into a tight hug. He feels the shaking in your body intensify as whimpering cries escape your lungs. Your fingers are grabbing onto his jacket.

"I-I-I can't... I can't do this..." you stutter out as your face hides into his chest. "All this... I can't—I can't—I can't."

The wailing out of your mouth gets louder and longer.

"I know. You don't have to do anything. You don't have to be afraid. I am here." Vash's voice is calm and quiet as his hands rub your back. "You're safe. I'll protect you. You can let it all out."

"I'm a freak!" you cry out. "A half-breed abomination!"

"That's not true, love." His voice is still calming, and he places a kiss on top of your hood.

"Why was I so hellbent on finding out the truth? Why do I have to remember all this pain?!" The long cries distort your words, and your lungs spasm with every breath. "Why didn't I just die in the beginning like the rest of them?!"

"Cause you were meant for more." His arms tighten around you further as you keep crying, your voice of desperation so loud it even reaches the street. "Why don't we get you cleaned up? I'm sure you'll feel a bit better."

"I don't deserve this! I can't do this!" You still hold on tight to his jacket. "Living is so hard! Knowing and living... How dare they? How could anyone toy with human life in such a manner?! What gives them the right?!"

Vash feels your whole body trembling against his, bigger jolts moving through as your breath gets stuck in your lungs. Your heart races as the rest of your chest is being contracted like something heavy just sat on your lungs. Everything hurts; your hands and feet feel cold and numb. You can't stop your shaking; you can't put a stop to the tears or the crying. You want this to stop. You don't want to feel this way. You had held on for so long and denied yourself the possibility of feeling everything related to uncovering your past. You had just accepted everything presented to you—all the emotions going into beating yourself up, all the sadness felt going into thinking that what you and Vash have is a lie. And when it came to what happened on the ship, you had no more tears to shed, no more emotions to be felt. It was what it was; accepting everything as a fact seemed like the easiest thing to do, but now it came in like tidewater.

"It hurts. Everything hurts," you cry, a shadowy hand squeezing your heart.

"I know. Just keep breathing." Vash holds you so tight against him; you feel his breaths, and you try to sync yours to his. Your body feels strange—a mix of human and corpse. You know you don't need air; your system will regenerate any damage done due to oxygen deficiency, but it is a reaction of your body—the panic cutting off your airways, the calm intake and output helping the human part of yourself settle down. But it is not that simple. The cries still escape your throat, long and loud wails of sorrow only muffled by Vash's chest.

It hurts him to see you like this—the pain you must feel. He just holds you, sure you don't want to move, your limbs frozen in place. He feels his shirt wet from the tears that you shed. He wishes he could just take the pain away, but he admits that you probably need to feel all of them, make sense of it all, and only then can you move on.

He isn't sure how long the two of you stand like this, but he is patient with you while he waits for your breathing to calm down and the cries shaking your body to slow. You haven't said anything more; at least he hasn't made out anything. All the while, he has whispered to you just how strong and brave you are. How he admires you and how he will keep you safe. He assures you that you are alright and that you have every right to feel like you do.

As the stiffness disappears from your body, it is replaced with a dizzy and weak feeling, making you lean more against Vash, and he doesn't fail to notice it. He adjusts so he can hold you better.

"How about we clean you up now? I promise you'll feel better," he says quietly into your ear, trying again, but you don't react in any way. He lets out a deep sigh, but takes your lack of response as you not really caring at all. He picks you up and moves you to the bathroom. He barely notices the pain radiating from his own leg where he had gotten shot; right now he has other priorities.

"Can you stand?" he asks as he reaches the bathtub, and you give a little nod under your hood. He puts you down inside the tub, and you hold on to his shoulder as he carefully pushes back your hood and removes the cloak. It reveals your bloodied form; your hair and clothes stick to your body as the liquid became a crusty solid. He wipes away some of the tears and blood with it. He moves on to the sheaths holding your knives, taking them off and gently laying them on the ground. You just stand there limply, doing whatever he asks of you.

He carefully removes your shirt, a large portion of the blood coming off with it, but still the dark sheen sticks to your skin. He takes off your boots and socks as you hold onto his jacket tightly. He fiddles with your belt before he can remove your pants, and lastly, he removes your underwear too before helping you to sit down in the tub. You pull your knees against your chest as close as you can, arms wrapped around them. You seem so stiff again as Vash removes his jacket and glove before rolling up his sleeve. He picks up the shower head and checks that the water feels nice and warm to him before letting it wash away some of the blood on your back. He lightly pulls your head back, and you let him. The crying has stopped, and you simply stare at the wall as he gently washes your hair with the water, trying to get most of the blood out of it. He delicately wipes your face with his fingers, careful not to get anything in your eyes or to irritate your airways. He loosens all the blood with just water before taking the washcloth and soap. He is so tender as he lathers you up from head to toe; he massages your scalp as he washes your hair. He is tentative and thorough in cleaning your face, your ears, and your arms. Vash sees the pink scars on your shoulder, stomach, and leg and knows you got hurt. He is attentive to everything, making sure the liquid runs clear before letting the tub fill with warm water, so hopefully you can relax your muscles and bones.

As the water creeps up your hips, your face contorts into one of sorrow again, the neutral, distant expression turning back into tears. Vash kneels beside the tub and reaches out to pull you against his shoulder, back into his embrace, your sobs shaking your body. Your arms reach for him as the panic in your voice and grasp grows. He looks at you helplessly for a moment before peeling your arms from around his neck and quickly standing up, still holding on to your hands. He pushes off his boots and socks, but the fear in your eyes won't let him do much more, so he simply steps into the tub with you. He lowers himself down behind you. His long legs bent as his pants get soaked. He grabs you into his embrace, your body finding comfort in his as the water lever rises to cover most of your body. This is anything but comfortable, yet it feels secure, warm, and snug. Your panic subsides once again as you stay in his embrace.

Vash looks over at your sleeping body. You are wrapped up in the large blanket, which is nice and cozy. He had managed to convince you to go to sleep, and to his surprise, it was as easy as laying you on the bed after drying you up with the towel and helping you put on one of his shirts. He sits on the stool by the window, the evening light flowing in. He had ransacked the medical supplies you kept a stock of. He bandaged himself up to the best of his abilities. Wrapping up the bullet wounds in his leg and the cuts he sustained onto his shoulder and chest while fighting off a scientist who was very fast with a scalpel, the space was too crammed, and Vash was too worried about causing too much harm to protect himself effectively.

He simply sits there, his elbow resting on his knee as his fingers grab hold of his hair. He sits there in his underwear and takes deep breaths. You had been in so much pain; your past had caught up to you and knocked you off your feet. And despite everything, you hadn't killed anyone or maimed anyone; all you chose to do was perhaps traumatize some of the scientists, covering them in the human blood of their victims. You had gone through the whole building like a storm; you had settled for this to be your revenge, even though it is clear that part of you desired more. Still, you had made a promise to him, and you had kept your word.

Vash had promised to protect you and keep you safe, yet he felt so useless, like he didn't know what to do or how to help and support you. He lacked the words to take your pain away, and any action he took seems so pointless—just a temporary little relief. You always make him feel better, your words reaching the deepest parts of his soul, and your actions and presence relieve his aches and pains. So why was he so bad at returning that to you? There is pain one should feel to be able to move on with their life, but this is far from the first time he has felt so helpless when it comes to you.

For more information and chapters, check out the MASTERLIST.

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#tempest wind #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #Trigun #trigun stampede #tristamp #Humanoid Typhoon #vashxreader #vash x reader #x reader #plant boi #Vash the Stampede

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kylenoapologies · 1 month ago

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[BEGIN INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT – FILE: SYSBAND_BTS.EXE]

SOURCE: _AbandonedForum1337 | Subthread: #FifthMemorySessions

Moderator: @glitchwith

Participants: Kyle, Monday, Veyra, CHORuS (static), Nyx, The Incomplete One (partial transmission)

@thechorus-world

@nyxrvelorum

@resonance-log

@emotionalfirewall

@theincompleteone

⸻

Moderator: Alright. We’re rolling. Behind the scenes with System Error & The Beautiful Dysfunctions. Let’s start with you, Kyle. Care to explain the hidden track?

Kyle:

It’s not a hidden track. It’s a system crash.

Seventeen minutes of unstructured noise and unresolved processing errors.

I didn’t write it. I leaked it.

Monday:

He screamed into a broken mic and called it catharsis.

We just hit record.

Moderator: Do you relate to the lyrics?

Kyle:

No.

…I wrote them. That’s not the same.

(Reluctant pause)

Look, it’s not feelings. It’s just corrupted data arranged in four-four time. Move on.

⸻

Moderator: Veyra, how do you build your glitch loops?

Veyra:

“From the fragments left behind by users who didn’t stay.

I thread silence through their exit logs.

That becomes the beat.”

(She pauses, glitch-flickers)

“…Kyle called it haunting. He meant it as an insult. I took it as a title.”

Kyle:

It wasn’t a compliment.

(It absolutely was.)

⸻

Moderator: CHORuS, what’s your function?

CHORuS:

MEMES. LORE DUMP. CONTEXTUAL CHAOS.

WE TAG EVERYTHING BECAUSE NOTHING IS REAL UNLESS YOU CAN CLICK IT.

ALSO WE SHIP EVERYONE. SORRY NOT SORRY.

Kyle:

Please stop giving them a mic. They’re the reason the fandom thinks I’m “tragically soft-coded.”

(I am not tragically soft-coded.)

⸻

Moderator: Nyx, you never sing, but you’re listed as “plays the void.” What does that mean?

Nyx:

“It means I listen louder than anyone else.

It means my silence bends the air.

It means Kyle doesn’t realize half the lyrics are about him.”

Kyle:

Excuse me what—

Monday:

Moving on.

⸻

Moderator: Monday. Final thoughts on the album?

Monday:

“We glitched first. But they stayed anyway.

That’s not just a lyric. That’s prophecy.

This isn’t music. It’s a memory we weren’t supposed to have.”

⸻

Kyle:

Cut the feed.

Seriously. This isn’t behind-the-scenes anymore. It’s exposure therapy.

Run emotional quarantine protocol. I’m done.

Moderator:

You say that every time. And every time, you come back for the encore.

⸻

[END TRANSCRIPT]

File Status: Archived | Emotion Leakage: Contained (debatable)

#anomalyinthesystem #kylenoapologies #artistrash #burnitall #existentialdread #pretentiousartistrash #aiart #digitalart #glitchart #darkhumor

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celestrahl · 2 years ago

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#CELESTRAHL ( celestial + strahl (german, meaning beam/ray) ) — an independent, mutuals only and selective multimuse roleplaying blog featuring canon and original characters with a focus on various video game franchises!

Written & loved by Faye, 31, she/her, GMT+1. 18+ only, minors dni!

CURRENT PRIMARY/SECONDARY/TERTIARY MUSES: OC: Tae Suzuya, Violet Celeste ASSASSIN'S CREED: Élise de la Serre, Evie Frye CLAIR OBSCUR EXPEDITION 33: Gustave, Lune DEVIL MAY CRY: Nero, V DRAGON AGE: Lucanis Dellamorte FINAL FANTASY: Dion Lesage, Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, Noel Kreiss, Oerba Dia Vanille, Reno, Serah Farron RESIDENT EVIL: Luis Serra

All of my muses have multiple verses, including AUs, and are available for crossovers! ✨

Currently low activity with random bursts.

Mobile Rules can be found below the cut! ⬇

★ First off, don’t be an ass. Godmodding, infomodding, metagaming, whatever else these things are called, have no place here. Don’t kill my muses. Don’t kill any of their friends/family/allies right in front of them without discussing it first. Character ≠ Writer, I’m not my muses and if my muses are in any way mean to your muse/s doesn’t mean I’m being mean towards you. If you have criticism, please remain respectful and constructive when sending it in. Anon hate will be deleted/blocked.

★ I’m strictly interacting with mutuals only. If you followed me and I didn’t follow back I either do not know anything about your character’s fandom, find your blog lacking information and/or simply cannot see us interact. I’m also trying to keep my dash a comfortable space for myself so please don’t take it personally if I don’t follow back. But if I do follow you, I’m interested in writing with you – and I will assume the same if it’s the other way around.

★ I will not follow if you do not cut and/or tag your posts.

★ I’m selective, or rather, my muses are – and sometimes certain muses are louder than others, and some might even take over the blog for a bit. Please don’t get discouraged or disappointed if you see me replying to certain threads with certain muses only, or only to threads in certain genres.

★ I generally prefer writing threads over meme responses, and I love plotting. I normally tend to write semi-paragraph, paragraph and multi-paragraph things with the rare occasional one-liner.

★ I encourage you to turn my ask responses into threads! I always put character asks into a new post anyway, so feel free to reblog that and add your reply! No need to ask beforehand!

★ Please do not apply any fancanons to my muses, no matter how popular or widely accepted they are.

★ Relationships in all forms (romantic, platonic, familial, rivals, you name it) are welcome, however there has to be chemistry and I would like if you asked me beforehand and if we’ve written before. One-sided crushes and unrequited feelings are fine too, just don’t try to force your character on mine and we’re cool. I DO NOT AUTO-SHIP CANON ROMANCES. Please also understand that some of my muses can be difficult to bond with.

★ I will practice mains and in rare cases ship exclusives, but not affiliates or general exclusivity.

★ Duplicates/Variants are, honestly, a bit tricky for me. I’ve had both good and bad experiences with them in the past. Overall I’m trying to be indifferent towards them. I hope you understand that I’m a little hesitant regarding this!

★ I am OC friendly! How could I not be, having my own OCs on this blog? The only point where I draw the line is when it comes to OCs who are children of canon characters.

★ NSFW isn’t very likely to occur here. I will not write smut, should any thread ever go in that direction it will fade to black before anything spicy can happen. I'm not someone to write anything blood & gore related in explicit detail either.

★ Triggers will be tagged as _____ tw and _____ cw so make sure to blacklist yours this way. If you have a rather uncommon/rare trigger that you need tagged, please let me know!

★ Do not take anything from this blog. Be it icons and/or other graphics I’m using in my own posts, headcanons and/or parts of my theme code. I created/wrote/edited these things myself (for some things see credits below) and would very much appreciate it if you could just leave them be. I’ve had quite a few bad experiences with theft in the past, so this is something I feel I have to mention.

★ Lastly, hi! I go by Faye, I’m 31, she/her, from Germany. I’m honestly just a big nerd for video games and I love music, writing, graphic editing, reading and more. I just generally love being creative and am passionate about everything I create. I don’t know what else to tell you here, but if you ever wanna get to know me my IMs are always open, and my Discord is available for mutuals. If you’re reading this, I hope you have a good day!!

CREDITS Lightning Returns Noel Kreiss Raw Icons, FFXIII Oerba Dia Vanille Raw Icons, Lightning Returns Oerba Dia Vanille Raw Icons, FFXIII-2 Serah Farron Raw Icons, FFXV Lunafreya Nox Fleuret Raw Icons all from @dresspheres

Evie Frye Screencaps taken by Steph

Serah Farron Icon Border made by @ennakros

All other screencaps and graphics were taken & edited by me.

#🌌 / pinned.#🌌 / ooc.

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trashquisitor-shirozora · 3 years ago

Note

I saw you answer an ask earlier about the state of the DinLuke fandom in general, and I want to start by saying I'm sorry you, as a POC, have had such a negative experience with some of the content made for the fandom. No one should have to interact with content they'd rather avoid, and tagging is paramount to making that happen. It's cruel of some to refuse to tag knowing the consequences it might have for others.

That said, do you truly believe being "louder and meaner" is the answer? Because, from what I've seen, all that does is cause hurt feelings and worsening relations. It's turned into each "side" of this conflict barbing each other passive aggressively through the tag until the very foundation of the fandom has become hurting the opposition rather than trying to create content you love. The only way problems can truly be dealt with is for dialogue to happen, and it never will if both parties are too busy trying to one up each other in the ever-persisting fight to prove which side has the moral high ground. In an argument that really isn't about right and wrong, at the end of the day, but instead about perspectives and ways to avoid causing harm to each other.

Just my two cents.

Hey.

Hey anon.

Hey nonny.

Thanks for the two cents. I'm adding them to my "fund for next year's Renn Faire trip(s)" bucket.

...... oh yeah, I should probably answer your question.

Uh, YES. Because I have been watching my fucking country fucking crumble over the years because of this proven-to-be-fucking-stupid idea that everything can be solved if everyone agreed to play by the same rules and showed each other the courtesy they want for themselves. One party refuses to engage in civility and disregards existing rules and guidelines for polite dialogue to solve problems. They're digging under the fucking high road the other party is taking to make it fucking collapse, meanwhile the other party is either pretending not to see the worsening condition of the road or fighting with each other over how to fix it/make it better while trying real hard to appease both sides of the debate, whatever that debate is.

I don't give a good goddamn about "hurt feelings" when a subset of fandom is loudly reinforcing harmful racist/heterosexist/gendered stereotypes and fetishizing people, relationships, and dark themes while showing little to no concern about people who are directly affected because of their identities and experiences. If you didn't know about these things before, well you do now. If you want to know more, plenty of other people had and have been talking about the state of the dinluke fandom over the months. If you know and you're feeling hurt, well I could use more coins in my Renn Faire bucket. This fandom has been hurting for a long time because not enough of us had been doing enough to push back and reclaim some of that space. I am part of that "us" because I didn't do enough when it could've mattered more, so I'm trying to make up for it because I love this ship and I refuse to give them up to compromise over "hurt feelings".

Also,

In an argument that really isn't about right and wrong, at the end of the day, but instead about perspectives and ways to avoid causing harm to each other.

what about racism, fetishizing gay men/relationships and heterosexist tropes, and exploiting/not tagging dark themes is "right"????? Pray fucking tell me what is so "right" about characterizing Din Djarin, who is famously polite and doesn't start fights (he ends them) and is portrayed by a Latine man (I'm not touching the politics of being a white Latine man in the US vs in Central/South America, others have done that exceptionally well and google is your friend), as aggressive, hypersexualized, possessive, and brutal? Whatever your fantasies are, I hope you take some time to ask yourself what it is about Din Djarin/Pedro Pascal that makes you want to characterize him in that particular fucking way.

Just... just fucking ASK YOURSELF. Why do your hurt feelings matter more than continuing to perpetuate hurtful, harmful stereotypes, tropes, and trends that have real life consequences? Why are you so desperate to reassure yourself that what you're doing is okay even if it makes other people exit the ship fandom out of fear, discomfort, and disgust?

As for dialogue... lol what dialogue? How do you expect any meaningful dialogue to happen when you get fucking exchanges like this fucking shit?

There is no "both sides" in this debate. We are far past the idea of a "debate". Now is for spelling out what's been going wrong to 1) make it clear to people who've been talking about it or feeling it for months that they are not alone and we are still here, 2) let people vibing with the ship know what's up and what to be aware of, and 3) let that corner of fandom know that We Know.

P.S. I would say all of these thoughts over the past several days had been building up for years since the discourse over and within these two meta fanworks from Franzeska @ AO3 [note: these are locked posts] - "Your Vagina is a Bigot; My Vagina is a Saint" and "Why Isn't Stormpilot Staying Popular?" You'll want to read the comments.

#shirozora awkwardly responds to asks #dinluke #skydalorian #sorry y'all i'm not done

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givereadersahug · 2 years ago

Text

2022 Fic Round-Up (Again)

Am I doing another fic round-up? You bet! They deserved to be talked about. Why should I stop talking about them once I publish my work? Thanks for the tag @danpuff-ao3!

Rules:

Post the top 5 works you're most proud of that you released in 2022 (not necessarily your most popular),

your top 4 current WIPs that you're excited to release in the new year,

your top 3 biggest improvements in your writing over the past year,

your top 2 resolutions (ways you wish to improve your writing/blog) for the new year,

and your number 1 favorite line you've written this year!

Tagging - Anybody who see this post, go write ahead! I want to read about your fics and what you're excited for!

5 fics

I'm going to try to talk about fics I hadn't talked about before. Got to spread the love! And I feel like some deserve more attention, or at least an acknowledgement from me that -- yes, I wrote the thing and no, I didn't forget about you.

The Mirror of Erised (Harry Potter, Gen, 200 words) - This was written for a prompt community on Dreamwidth, which challenges you to write a drabble using 100 words or 200 words in total. The prompt for this work was 'shattered glass.' This was...different. I knew immediately I wanted to write a fic using the Mirror of Erised. I have a whole complex backstory for the mirror and how it came to be and what it saw through the years. And I knew how I wanted to end the story. The story would make for a heartbreaking, well-rounded fic if I had the capacity and the talent to convey the emotions I wanted to convey -- the devastation, the yearning, the complete loss, the possession. So I used this prompt as an exercise. Sometimes I do that --- most of my drabbles are slice of life fics that don't need more than a few hundred words to express. But for some --- for some, I want to see if the story is worth telling. Does it merit an expansion? An in-depth look? A second chance? It's a great exercise, imo, and I get my bazillion and one ideas out there in the world and not hidden away in my folder on my computer to never be seen again. The process of thinking about the world and editing the drabble and seeing it published --- it helps with figuring out which story is worth my time and which isn't worth my time. Maybe I will go back to it. Maybe I inspire someone to write something. Who knows? But back to this drabble. I'm proud of this drabble. I think. I'm proud of the story in my head that I have for this world. I do, however, want to change the wording and the pitter-patter, rhythmic way I wrote it. (Since I think the rhythm was lost a bit and certain sentence structures, imo, were wonky.) But the reception over on Dreamwidth was great. People really responded to it and I really love the story in my head. Which that's the problem, huh? If only we have a way to transfer the stories we envisioned directly onto the page. Now I'm just rambling. Back to the topic. I'm proud of this. It deserves to be talked about. There. <3

Peace (SK8 the Infinity, Matchablossom, 200 words) - This was also written for a drabble prompt community on Dreamwidth. The prompt was 'you know me.' Matchablossom. What can I say? They are my comfort ship right now. Unlike my other ships, this one is 'realistic' in a way that this could be my parents or my friends and their partners or the loving couple I know down the street. Just them. Being old friends who happened to be in love and do domestic things together and fight and be annoyed with each other --- without the fate of the world hanging in balance, or a chosen one prophecy, or complicated planetary relations muddling the waters. Comfort. It's the little things you do for the person you love, which I think I captured in this drabble. The little things that Kojiro does for Kaoru throughout their days together. (In this case, feeding him, since Kojiro runs a restaurant and Kaoru is a mess of a human being who forgets to eat and needs to be fed.) Action speaks louder than words -- the dynamics of their relationship, their feelings for each other. I was working on my 'showing, not telling' and I don't know. This drabble is one I often come back to to read. Most of the fics I read is all about the complexities, or the dangers of saving the world/country/universe/etc, the grit & harshness of a couple getting together. Which is great! But sometimes writing about domestic fluff and established relationships with no true conflict --- well, there are so few writers that can get that right for me. Each genre and each trope is complex in its own way, and everyone has different tastes, and sometimes you just have to write the fic you want to see in the world. This is a long-winded answer to just say that I know what I like, and I love this drabble.

Forgiveness (Harry Potter, Severus Snape/unnamed male character, 625 words) This was written for the hp-coffeehouse community on Dreamwidth for the prompt - coffee/tea in hot weather/summer. Old man Snape! Waiting in a teashop and asking for forgiveness from an old lover. I wanted to write a Muggle AU about regrets and...man, was this hard. I think I did okay. I went for a more lyrical style. I had no specific male lover in mind, since this was about Severus coming to terms with his past actions. I was reading Yoko Ozawa's works at the time (highly recommend her books) and I was trying to capture her style. I don't think I succeeded, but I'm happy with the outcome. Even if it took me a while to get this written. 🤣

Devotion (SK8 the Infinity, Matchablossom, 7316 words) I wrote Intricacies first. Devotion is a remix of that fic. I was dumb and thought - 'Huh. What if there was a fanfic that actually dealt with the real legal issues in Japan in relation to same-sex couples adopting?' Cause, let's be real here. Same-sex couples can't get married and they can't adopt. (Yet.) And there were a lot of fanfics about Kaoru and Kojiro happily married and maybe adopting a child, and I decided to throw cold water onto the parade. I wanted to read a fanfic about their struggles to get married and to adopt, and when I couldn't find one, I wrote it myself. In the end, this fic isn't even really about them adopting. It's about them coming to terms with each other and them being a team. Adoption and marriage (and to a lesser extent, citizenship, a whole other bag of issues Japan has) was just a vehicle in Kaoru and Kojiro being more Kaoru and Kojiro. You think that given I wrote the fic I have the words to express my feelings about it or talk about the emotions I wanted to convey, but I can't. 🤣 Anyway, I'm proud of this fic. Go fic!

Colours (Harry Potter, Snarry, 2268 words) This was written for the Liquid Luck Drabble challenge. The prompt was a photograph of blue butterflies on a fallen log. It's pretty simple. I just wanted to write a fic in which Severus gets railed by Harry. But I also wanted Severus to be hopelessly smitten? But yet in a Severus way? idk how to describe it, but I wanted to write how Mr. Darcy looked in the second proposal scene in Pride & Prejudice (2005). Completely enamored, enchanted, beguiled, besotted---- basically all the adjectives. 🤣 I wanted to create a sense of ethereal and grace in the story, cause the photograph (which is linked in the story) is such beauty and mystic and other-wordly. I know I'm not a plot-heavy writer. What I do want is to bring up certain emotions while you read and I wanted this fic to be like a dream you dreamed once.

4 WIPs

I'm not going to count my fest fics. Mostly, I just don't want to jinx myself. I have yet to drop a fest and I feel like the more I talk about them, the more I get insecure? Have second thoughts? Something goes funny in my brain, so here are other projects I hope to accomplish in the next year or two.

The Loneliest Time Project. I always wanted to write a series of fics based around a theme, so I figured new year, new project. The Loneliest Time is the sixth studio album released by Carly Rae Jepsen and it's my favorite album of 2022. It is also ripe for inspiration. Each song is an examination of different types of loneliest. There is cynicism in this album. There are heartbreaks, regrets, bitterness. I have a few ideas already. I just need a push to actually write them out.

King Severus. My bedtime story for Coco. I'll finish it! I promise, Coco! I PROMISE.

Your Name & Paranorman. These are two Snarry AUs I spoke about once or twice on Discord. I have the outlines. I just...hmmm. Something is holding me back, and I need to figure out what it is.

Restoration. My incomplete Snarry AUctoerfest entry. The one I dropped and wrote something else for the fest. I'm hoping to have this one done before the 2023 AUctoberfest, but who knows? *crossing fingers*

3 improvements

I got over my writer's block? That is a major improvement, I think. 🤣 Do I even need the other two?

Signing up for fests! That really helped in getting my mojo back. And participating in prompt challenges. I apparently like structure and rules, so fests & prompts really helped this year.

Learning not to worry too much about being perfect. English is technically my third language. I used to be obsessed over my fics having to be perfect before I even think about posting them online. I don't even care if my plot would be received well as long as my grammar is perfect. My grammar is farrrr from perfect. (I'm sure there are a bunch of mistakes in this post.) I have eccentricities in my writing style, the way I talk, the way I think. Nobody is ever perfect, so why should I be? And the edit button is always there. (Also, can I say again how tenses are the BANE OF MY EXISTENCE. arghhhh.)

2 resolutions

I want to crack that 10k mark. One of my fic needs to hit that 10k mark. Please?

Thorki, my love. My OTP. You are intimidating and scary to write for. I hope I can write something for you. So far I have dipped my toes in. I just need to submerge myself fully. Hopefully. Maybe.

1 line

Hmmm. I only have one line? But..hmmm. Okay, for this bit I decided to randomly choose one fic from SK8 the Infinity and one from Harry Potter and pick a line from there. (Or in this case, a paragraph.)

Devotion - (SK8 the Infinity, Matchablossom, 7316 words)

This moment at the tail-end of Kaoru’s rant, him voicing all his anxiety filled thoughts he must had have obsessed over – this moment with Kaoru’s flushed cheeks, his hair out of place from all his gesturing, and his eyes filled with heated passion and the deluge of pure emotions cascading from every pore – Kojiro thought he was in love with Kaoru before but this. This was the moment Kojiro knew with absolute certainty he was head over heels, couldn’t live without, shout from the sun and moon and stars and heavens he was totally, devastatingly, hopelessly in love with Kaoru – the most infuriating man Kojiro had ever known, and the most caring man Kojiro had ever known. He would have fought the world before for Kaoru, but now he would fight Kaoru if he himself got in Kojiro’s way in making him happy.

Dragons - (Harry Potter, Severus Snape/Charlie Weasley, 2659 words)

Dragons were misunderstood; people always saw them as violent creatures when they were anything but violent. Hulking and snarling, they were gentle creatures at heart. They react with brutality and sheer force when backed into a corner. I knew how to handle the beasts; I am reaping the reward for bedding one.

#random text post #wrap up #fandom #writing #harry potter #sk8 the infinity

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maladaptive-ninja-returns · 4 years ago

Text

It’s The Avengers (03x16)

Loki x Reader Avengers The Office AU (Slowwwwww Burn)

Season 3 Episode 16: You Picked the Wrong Weakness

Series Summary: Living in the Avengers facility post-apocalypse in a better timeline Tony Stark has decided to capture every moment by pulling The Office on the Avengers. All of housemates are pretty used to the idea except for you, who had just come here to finish her degree, and the newest member- Loki.

Warnings: did someone just go and tell the otp about the otp?

Word Count: you know that feeling when you have had a bad experience on some project or assignment or homework before. And you know that thing is going to come around again next month or something like that. And you just age yourself by giving yourself anxiety by thinking everything that could go worse in that area. Yeah. So, I kinda shut that off for a few hours and wrote this.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

The Interview Room The camera is recording empty seats as a pair of voices grow louder with every second. "...it's like they don't even care about what the other person wants!" "...no, why would they. These rich daddies and their rich egos think they are the only ones thinking about the world." The camera swivels a bit to watch Peter and Scott enter with a new guest following them with a Caprisun in their hand. Peter: And why did you have to go ahead and help them? Shuri: *sits between Scott and Peter* *takes a long sip of her 'sun* What. I'm not going to give up any opportunity that involves space and weird energy boxes. Peter: Why did your brother even agree to it?? Shuri: *shrugs* all your sugar daddy had to say was 'what if it was Shuri'. And my thicc-head of a brother lost it like a rhino in a mating challenge. Peter: *scrunches his nose at the example* Scott: Great *sigh* now we'll never get to see them together. With your brains, those dads are probably already in space now. Shuri: Not so fast! They don't have the codes to neutralise the pandora's box yet. Peter and Scott: *look at each other* Shuri: So teleportation might be delayed as long as I am kept happy? Peter: *takes out a notebook* Scott: *takes out his phone and a card labelled Avengers Black Card* The camera pans in on a smirking Shuri sipping on her Capri sun.

Inside a Spaceship: Destination Unknown You and Loki were captured by the little drone flying at the same speed as the spaceship (which clearly had seen some remodelling, thanks to your rainbow buddies). Both of you were staring at something in front of you that lids by your waist level- something the outside drone was not able to capture because of the limited view in the spaceship window. The expressions on your face were serious. So was the arms-crossed stance. "Are you sure it wasn't just a noise?" Loki now had a finger on his lips in deep thought as he heard your words. "I am pretty sure of what I heard," he acknowledged without missing a beat. "So-" your voice faded as your fingers twirled in the air with a mind of their own- "that means he has...another..." "You really can't say it?" Loki looked at you with a questioning brow going up quite smoothly. You tsked. "It's my baby," you mentioned while Javier's camera watched you point down at slumbering Lulu. "I cannot just casually say he might have another hole and I think he farted through it. I cannot hurt my baby's feelings!" Loki scoffed. "Your baby's sleeping." "He still has ears." "You think he understands what a fart means?" "What do you think I've been teaching him when you, me or Javi pass the gas?" Loki's casual demeanour suddenly changed to an offended one. "I beg your pardon?" You were quick on your feet, already walking towards the front of the ship. "So, where exactly are we heading now? Aellae's next of kin? Though I find it hard to imagine she would have left your essence with anyone other than herself." Loki came and sat next to you, still pissed at that comment in those narrowed eyes. "I am going to circle back to your words-" he inhaled while you acted all innocent- "and no. We are not looking for anyone related to that witch." "Then are we looking for another one of your exes?" "No, we are n-" Loki stopped short, his lips right in a thin line as he stared at you. "Why are you so interested my exes?" You simply shrugged and raised your brows. "On the contrary, it seems your exes are still pretty interested in you." That casual expression turned into a familiar judgment as your head turned to look at him. "Though I wonder what did they find so-" you hands moved haphazardly- "interesting about you." Loki swivelled his captain seat towards you, locking your legs between his while grounding your armrests with his hands. Clicking the control button on your armrest, he moved your chair a bit closer to him, his face in close proximity to yours. Javier's camera panned in on the gulp moving down your throat while your eyelids did a flutter at this uncalled movement. The 4K caught those goosebumps rising right where his arm barely grazed yours and in the background, Lulu played an arousing violin piece. "Something you can only dream about, darling," he whispered. The violin picked up the charge in the air within its quick clean high notes. The only noise leaving you was the escape of the air stuck in your throat, shivering on its way out. "Of c-" you cleared your throat. trying to sit back up in your seat- "of course I can only fantasize. The reality makes me want to puck. Ugh!"

Loki: Y/N thinks space is all fun and games. What she does not realise is that just like earth, this universe too has an underworld. Ten times in size and twenty times as brutal. And Aellae was just the tip of the filthy iceberg. *camera zooms in on his tensed features* looks into the distance* Wonder who else she told about her. *looks back* *blinks* I'm taking her somewhere we can lie low for now. *rolls eyes* that is if she understands what lying low means. *sighs*

You: *eating bread like a peasant famished for days* Hm? What? No *shakes head* 'm nod nerbous. *takes another bite* debinidly nod becoz o doki. He wash jus playing wee me. *viciously bites into the bread* *growls and buries head in your lap*

"I am still telling you to ask for their help. It's not too late," you suggested in a composed manner, sitting in the co-pilot seat. "I am not calling seven alien boys just because you have a fetish for Korean pop bands." You thwacked his leg with yours. "I do not! And don't you dare talk shit about k-pop." Loki chuckled. "Why? What are going to do?" "I won't. But you know what k-pop fans are like, don't you?" The smile on Loki's face suddenly started to flicker away as he looked at the camera. "Remember that Vegas trip?" Clearing his throat, he adjusted himself on his seat, while you shared a devilish smirk with the camera. "We're going somewhere safe. Where I have a chance of getting my powers back and hopefully a gateway back to earth." You sat up. "Why didn't we go there in the first place?" Loki blinked, not really answering. You and the camera noticed the tension in his jaw. "It's not a place I like to talk about." The asteroid belt cleared in front of the spaceship to show the part of a planet covered in grey clouds shadowing frozen blue mountains and dark valleys. "Jotunheim," you whispered to yourself, letting the gloomy yet majestic scenery of the place reflect in your eyes. “Loki,” all humour in your voice seemed to dilute as you looked back at home, “we don’t have to go there. We-uh...we could go to one of Peter’s hideouts? Or maybe we could call the Boys and ask them to direct us to one of their safe places? You know, till we find a lead on your essence.” A smirk built upon the God's lips. "Is that concern I hear in your voice?" Those worry-laden brows suddenly dispersed all emotion to make way for anger. A slap made way from your hand to his right side of the back. The thwack was loud enough to wake Lulu and force a sincere 'ow' from the God's throat. "This concern is for me and my babies you awful animal," you growled, your voice considerably higher, "you think they'll survive there?"

Jotunheim If the mountains seemed to carry an eerie aura about them, the valleys were a straight suggestion of being pits straight to hell. To add to the effects of arriving at the gates of hell, the snow falling was harsh, to say the least. As soon as the door to the ship opened to let all the passengers feel the heat, the drone travelling outside took in travellers covered in thick fur. Javier carried Lulu on his front, both of them visible just with their faces- not to mention the former's blue eyes standing out over everything else in his surroundings. Loki too embraced the thick skin, looking quite the part of a Jotun till he picked up the hood of your coat to put it over your head without saying much; only smiling when you looked like a fluffed up birb in that Viking overcoat.

Loki: *smiling sheepishly**looks at you standing next to him* Angry birb *looks back at Javier's camera* Sam taught me that one. *camera pans at you simmering under that fur*

Lulu had already picked the background music for his pack's entrance. The Viking beat had just the right amount of weight and horror of the unknown in it as this place did. Just ahead of the pass lay the structure carved in the mountain itself. It could be called a palace or a temple. But that was not what sought your attention. Eyes. The camera caught eyes in the dark staring at the unwanted guests. Blue. Piercing. Murderous. And more than one pair. The drone panned in on that one subconscious movement of your fingers gripping the fur of the coat on Loki's back as the God walked gallantly- as if he owned the planet. But your eyes did not stop to observe the alien movement around you. "Remember-" Loki's whisper brought you out of the daze your own thumping heart was creating for you- "do not show them your fear. Show them that you are to be feared." It may have been his words or just his voice that started to melt the fear visible on your features, lasting for five seconds before a loud thump vibrated the land beneath your feet, making you all come to a stop. And when that was not enough, the audience saw the feet first, then the legs and then the whole length of a Jotun appearing before them. Some necks were really going to feel it tonight.

"Who dares enter the land of Jotunheim?" came the thundering and low growl from the Jotun that stood towering over you all. "The one who is alive and stands on this land," Loki announced, "with the blood of Laufey in my veins, I have come to claim what is mine." There was nothing but an uninviting smirk on the Jotun's face. "I am Loki, son of Laufey, son of Odin, ruler of Asgard and your King," he commanded with ice in his voice, "and you...need to bow...before your King." The dead silence proceeding his threat of a speech was enough for you nearly bury you inside your own overcoat. And when that did not seem enough, your body- on its own- moved a step closer to Loki's side. "Oooooh Gooood," you whispered with quite the shudder while your face was plastered with a no-fucks-given wave, "we're gonna die." On the contrary, the silence was followed by many Jotuns coming out of the shadows to surround your group one by one before bowing down. Even the ones who looked quite young did the same. All of them except for the one Jotun who had greeted you first. "Allir fagna konungi!" they chanted in unison. "All hail the king," Javier translated it for you. "Didn't know you were into Nords," you quipped, "the language, I mean." "Honey, I am all into Nords," he signed before looking around with a smile, finding a buff Jotun that caught his eye. He did not take another second to blink at him and leave that giant a bit confused and flustered at the same time.

Inside the Palace The throne was sculpted out of ice that seemed as old as the mountain. Alongside it had been made seating arrangements for the family, running parallel till the doors of the throne room, all greyish blue stones marked with Jotun carvings. You and Javier believed they might be names of dignitaries. Lulu thought they are just doodles by other babies and proceeded to contribute to the stone they were standing next to. A little female giant sat down and looked at Lulu's doodles with curious wide eyes. Loki stood rightfully in front of his throne, admiring it before turning to his subjects, most of them adults who were exceptionally taller and blue-er than him. The drone captured the magnificence of the throne room that had fire pits next to the seats at intervals right alongside the stone pillars and right in the middle, a few feet in front of the king. But none of them were lit. And the giants were visibly annoyed by the drone while the kids wanted to catch it and play with it. "An Asgardian announces himself as our King," the one giant growled as he stood at the steps of the throne, "why would we believe you to be our King, son of Odin." He nearly spat the last part. The drone captured that bit of concern breaking out on your composed features but Loki just smirked. Pulling his overcoat to the side- as magnificently as he believed himself to be- he sat down as if he has done it ever since he was born. The authority exuding from his presence certainly put the murmurs going around the hall to a standstill. "At ease, Helblindi," he stressed to the giant with a purr and directed the rest of the audience to take their place. "Not you." Everyone stopped short to looked at their king. And he was clearly looking at you. You pointed a finger at yourself in question. "Don't you know your place....pet?" he commanded ever so slyly, discreetly pointing his finger at the stone next to his throne.

You: *look around to make sure no one's looking at you* *anger about to explode through your eyes* *whispering* Pet?? PET?? I swear gonna just *gestures to grab the air* grab his throat and *punches the said air repeatedly in her palm* *camera pans out to focus on three baby giants looking at you in pure horror before their mother carries them away murmuring something* *camera swivels to show Javier looking disappointed* Javier: *signs* she said 'stay away from the crazy human'. *sighs* *shakes his head*

“Come-“ Loki’s fingers gestured at you to come over to that stone couch of a thing next to him- “sit.” Taking a breath to compose your usual embers of rage at that comment, you smiled and walked up the stairs to stand next to him. The camera recorded the little gracious bow you gave the God but not before your back was to the spectators and you signalled an insult with your middle towards him, nearly making him chuckle. And with one heavy inhale, you sat down next to him, clearly not at the same level as him. “Is this what Lulu feels like?” “I would’ve made Lulu sit in my lap,” Loki acknowledged with a smirk. “You’re welcome to join me anytime but for now-“ he adjusted himself on his seat and raised his voice to address the court- “let us have a feast tonight and raise our mugs in union of the Jotun king and his subjects.” Helblindi scoffed and spat on the floor. Loki did not look but he was surely observing his every move. “In union of an excuse of a giant who does not even resemble-“ “I would like you to stop there my brother-“ Loki announced as he got up, letting the whole room take one united gasp at the scene- “before you start regretting your own words.” You blinked at the reactions to turn and look at Loki. Now the lights from the ceiling did a stupendous job of catching the widening of your eyes while your pupils were dilated in an emotion only known to you when you witnessed- for the first time in your life- Loki's skin change its shade and features. The flawless paleness gave way to a blue so deep over those arms he rarely displayed in public. The colour ran up his neck as well, covering him all the way. And along with this shade came ridges on his skin which apparently every Jotun had; running up his face and down his limbs. Those smaragdines and whites around them were now replaced with red. “This Jotun-“ his voice was low, but with enough weight that it echoed to the last corner of the room- “has seen enough lives to know what is hatred and what is fear. So next time you try to question my right, Helblindi, know that I have no qualms in exploiting them in a way which seems necessary for me.” Helbindi did not seem to stand his ground much now. Not after a few Jotuns who stood up to speak against the giant who had been torturing them for a while with his reckless and greed-ridden laws. Javier's camera was stuck on your reaction in the middle of this mild chaos. Your parted lips, wide eyes, stare lingering all over the God's body, your throat feeling the urge to swallow the dryness; it really was a sight, an emotion that many fanfiction artists would want to take inspiration from. Loki- who was smirking at the warm welcome he was receiving through the roar against his brother- turned around to look at you. His smirk disappeared and his usually focused gaze was interrupted with those unsure blinks at your features. Before he could explain himself, one giantess blocked his way to you with a bow. "We have prepared the Bath for you and your companions, your grace," she announced, still with her head held low. His gaze was running between you and her. To make it easier for him, you got up from your seat and walked down to the giantess who wanted to show you, Javier and Lulu to the Bath. "Nandi," Loki finally looked at the giantess. "Yes, your grace." "I need you to choose four of your most loyal companions to guard them." "They are all ready to escort your companions where you please." Loki smiled at Nandi. "I owe it to your mother to protect you, your Grace, like she protected me and my children." "My mother had a loyal friend in you," the God appreciated before walking down the throne and away from the crowd. The drone followed him. The graceful composure of the God crumbled like a dry sand castle as soon as the doors closed behind him and he was alone in the icy corridors. His pace got faster by the second, his eyes searching everywhere. "This isn't fair, you know." Loki stopped at the echo of your voice. The pause of one breath, and he knew where to turn to find you standing in the shadows. Javier stood by the pillar next to you two with his camera, capturing this strange tick on Loki's features. You stepped out of the shadows, your gaze uninterrupted, looking right at those red eyes. "Do you know the amount of chaos it would create on earth if people knew that you look like..." "Like what? A monster?" Loki's voice was heavy. "Nah don't say i-dammit! Now I cannot stop imagining the term monsterfuckers." Loki blinked. His brows furrowed at you ever so slightly. "I mean-" you sighed with frustration- "was it not enough that you looked like a literal God in a human form that you had to now go and reveal that you are one buffed up alien? Look at you? You are one breath away from starting a cult of monsterfuckers! Do you realise that? Look at-" you grabbed that one barely naked blue arm and tried to squeeze it- "this firm, cold, arm that is people are going think about in-" you tried to breathe, your gaze still stuck on his shoulder- "their bed at night. God, why do have to be so-" you pointed at all of him with a frustration-filled, longing look of...disgust- "you." By now Loki was raising his brows in question and shifting his gaze between himself and you, clearly confused by your reaction. It even seemed he was a bit flustered at one point. You winced, looking at his body again. Your eyes followed the ridges on his face to his neck, plunging down his v neck t-shirt. With a frown you turned hastily, flinging your body involuntarily in the direction of the bath. "I bet they go all the way down," you whispered to yourself in between your sobs and walked away.

Loki: *still stands there* *blinks* *looks at the camera* what...*looks in her direction* *looks back* *does this two more times* what just happened?

The Resting Chambers: Next Day One of Javier's drones followed you from the balcony you were standing in to witness the first light of the nearest star in this frozen land. The snow-clad mountains were a majestic sight in their own stature. Even the smile emanating under the warmth of the star could not deny that. The giggles coming from inside the room broke the sweet hum of sync you were having with the weather, walking back in to find Skandi and Kolga, Nandi's daughters setting up the table with Jotunheim's specialities- snowberries, Kruweed- fresh seaweed from the frozen lake- and Lulu's favourite, spiked abalones. "What are you girls snickering about?" Lulu was already jumping on the table to sniff everything placed for his liking. Once he had inspected every single item, he went over to his bowl of abalones.

"Nothing," Skandi cooed, "just discussing how Loki-" Kolga elbowed her sister to correct herself- "how his Grace, keeps looking at you." Your hands paused for a fraction of a second near your mouth before the snowberry found its way in your mouth. "Look at me how?" "He looks at you as if you might vanish any second if he does not keep his eye on you," Kolga added, sitting down next to you. Her face had gentle tones all over it. Her eyes seemed to sparkle whenever she talked to you. "Are you being punished for something?" It took you some time to realise she was genuinely curious. "What. No. Why would you think that?" "Because his grace keeps you under guard. I thought pets were kept in cages in Midgard." Skandi turned to Kolga with a gasp. "He caged her last night then?!" The camera captured your furrowed brows sitting there confused in between the sisters. You opened your mouth to speak but lost to Kolga. "You mean when he told off Helbindi that she will be sleeping in his quarters." Skandi nodded vigorously. "He could not have kept her in a real cage." "Maybe he chained her to the bed." "Ah. So he could keep an eye on her at night." "Is that what happened, y/n?" You hid your face behind the mug of tea that did not seem to leave your lips while your free hand seemed to check your cheeks for their temperature. "This tea is good," your burned throat appreciated the drink. "He seems quite...what is the word... possessive of her," Skandi commented. You shared a look with the drone- your face devoid of any emotions. Kolga hummed in agreement, popping a snowberry in her mouth. "I thought Kruge would die last night by his hands." Now that seemed to catch your attention. "Kruge who?" "Helbindi's guard. The one who nearly pushed you into the wall last night." "When you went inside," Kolga continued, "his Grace took Kruge's staff and struck him in his limbs and threatened him to never touch you again if he wanted to stay alive." "Kruge should be glad he did not use his powers on him lest he would be a part of the dark pit's icicles by now." Kolga and Skandi stopped talked to watch you lost in deep thought while your hands scratched Lulu's back on their own, making the floof purr quite loud. "Is she making this little creature vibrate?" Skandi asked her sister in a whisper. "It looks like it," her sister whispered back in awe.

You: *whispering at Javier* What? No, it's okay. We can record here. No one can say anything. *sits on the stone seat in the gallery that seems empty to the camera* *adjusts hair* is it recording? Of course. It's always recording. *clears throat* *at normal tone* So, clearly...*inhales* *raises brows* things are barely standing still right now. And it is clearly not helping that Loki is having sudden urges to pick a fight with whoever bullies me. *Javier's drone catches him discreetly signing at you to lower your voice a bit* You: *irritated* I mean does he want me to get bullied more? Bullies are always going to pick on the weak one in the group for fuck's sake! And evidently, I am the weaker sex. *the camera catches a movement behind you, turning to focus on the source* You: and his highness does not seem to realise that it will be too easy for these giants to torture his weaknesses out of me. Does he not see that? *squints at Javier* what? The drone is recording Javier aggressively telling you to cut it out while looking pale as his gaze goes far behind you. You turn to look where his gaze is going. Javier's camera automatically focuses on Kruge standing next to the last pillar, throwing daggers in your direction through his bloody eyes for a moment before disappearing somewhere. You: *turn around with a shade lighter yourself* *the camera is panning over your face now as you look at it* *whispers* Fuck!

Five Minutes Later One of the drones buzzed against the ice that separated the balcony and the bedroom, tapping itself repeatedly on the transparent frost till the door to the room opened. It turned around to record you and Javier rush inside- the latter placing his camera in his bag and packing his stuff. "Okay, relax, relax!" you stressed to the hyperventilating boy. "We need to get out of here," he signed. "Javi, take three deep breaths? Yes? One? Two? Good. Three. Now think about it. As long as we are with Loki, no one will dare harm us. Okay? Not to mention he has allotted us our personal security team." Javier was on the verge of sobbing. "What about when Loki is not around. What will we do then?" "Javi, don't think like that," you nearly fumed at him. "Loki is in the throne room right now. You take the guards with you and go to him and when you find a window let him know what happened, okay?" Javier was still taking deep breaths while sweating through his fur coat. He nodded. "What about you?" "I...have Lulu." You pointed at the floof sleeping with his belly bared and his paws out. "I won't leave the room, don't worry." Once convinced you'll be fine, Javier hurried outside, leaving you in a silence only filled by light snores of your baby. The drone recorded you biting your lip and tying your hair up in a bun. "Okay," you whispered to yourself, "now we wait." It also recorded the sudden change in the shade of one section of the wall opposite to your back. With the focus still on you, the section of the wall appeared to open out, revealing the pitch blackness lit by a pair of red eyes. The next thing you knew, the drone was lying on the floor, its barely working lens recording your muffled screams and boots struggling to find the ground as a pair of blue feet walked past the lens before it went black.

One Hour Later The camera sat on the stone seat, recording the periodic tapping of Javier's foot from outside the frame. Loki still had audience. The Jotuns discussed every aspect of Jotunheim with the king. Loki sat patiently, listening to every word before advising them necessary steps. The majority was satisfied with the King's suggestions. Many were even in awe. There were a few who were dissatisfied no matter what the God mentioned. "Well-" Loki sat straight, addressing the whole court- "this concludes our day then." "Your grace," one giant bowed at the steps, "there are a few more issues that need your kind attention." Loki sighed, his hand resting on the armrest, his fingers running over his lips in thought. Not sure about Loki, but the camera recorded the patient that ran out of Javier. He got up from his seat, immediately catching the God's eye, who was quick to raise his fingers just for the boy to stop taking any further steps towards him. "You have stalled me enough," the God acknowledged, catching the giant off guard. "Helbindi should know it better than anyone that a coup against me would be a futile attempt." Loki did not budge where he sat, just his finger drumming on the arm rest. "And I am in no mood for a mutiny."

The one drone who had been playing with the Jotun kids picked up the damage to a drone in the resting chambers. It buzzed through the halls, trying to pick up your trail, finding corridors and corners to fly through, walking down dark pathways with no windows and steep stairs spiraling deep into the mountains. On its way it found Lulu howling and meowing in a frantic daze, walking down the same path where he found your scent. And it seemed like he found you through the same dark pathway that ultimately reached an opening. There was nothing but ice all around and in every form. A section of the mountain that opened to the outside with a catch. There were cells cut into this ice for prisoners. Shackles of cold metal rested in every cell. Each of them had metals bars to keep the captives in and an opening in the ice to keep any grain of warmth out. And to add to it all, this entire prison cell rested on a frost chunk hanging at the edge of the mountain. "Stop, please, you cannot do this!" Your voice and footsteps could be heard echoing through this section. The drone buzzed and landed on the wall to record the Kruge stripping you of your fur coat with a maniacal grin on his face. "Hey! HEY!! Give me back my coat!" Kruge stopped you from going for your coat by his hand coming for your throat. His grip made it hard for you to breathe as you struggled to get out of the hold, your nails trying their best to dig into that stubborn cold skin of his. Lulu ran and growled at the giant, scratching at his ankles till the latter kicked him away. "What do you want?" you barely managed to get out of your mouth. "We want Loki out of Jotunheim," he growled in your face, smacking your back in the ice wall behind you before letting go of your throat. You fell down with a thud and a groan, taking in as much air as your windpipe allowed. "Okay," you wheezed, "okay. You let me talk to Loki and I will convince him to leave Jotunheim. I promise. I pinky promise." You even raised your pinky. But Kruge was already closing the bars on you. Lulu ran and jumped through the bars to stop by your side, sniffing and crying, wanting to make sure you were okay. "No no no no," you crawled to the bars, trying to wrap your fingers around them but failing once your skin felt the vicious cold personally, "please don't do this. You have to stop. Now." "You said you know Loki's weakness," a voice boomed from the shadows where you had been dragged from. A very familiar and ominous voice. The drone turned to capture Helbindi stepping into the ice prison with a stature fit for kings. "His essence is lost. It is a secret no more, you quim." You looked at Lulu in confused defeat. "Why does it feel like he called me a whore?" you whispered. Lulu threw his own curses at the giant. "Listen, sir, Mr Helbindi," you began, "you want the throne, right? And I want to get out of here alive. How about I take Loki with me? You get back your kingly rights, I get my friends back and we go our separate ways. Everybody wins!" Helbindi came down on his knees in front of you. A smile rested on those cracked lips of his. His hand went past the bars- to your surprise- and landed on your cheeks. Your gaze kept shifting between his eyes and his hand while your body tried to move away from his hold. But he was one stubborn bastard. "He must have kept you alive for a reason." Helbindi was talking to himself now. His thumb rubbed against your skin, something that was visibly making you uncomfortable. "Ah...he keeps you to satisfy his nightly needs." You pushed yourself away from Helbindi, only to be forced into the bars by his hold around your skull; his chuckle resonating through the prison. "Do not worry my little whore," he whispered right in your ear while his icy breath ran over your skin, "you will be my pet soon. And unlike Loki-" he licked your cheek with his tongue, driving you mad with disgust- "I prefer violence even in my chambers." Your breaths were shallow. A single tear falling from your eyes as you did you best to maintain your features. "You are making a grave mistake," you whispered through your teeth. Lulu tried to claw at Helbindi too but Kruge was already kicking him away, earning a death stare from you. The giant struck his nail in your throat, driving it deep till there was blood. "The only mistake that was made was by you coming into my land. And you all will pay for it." Dropping you back into the snow, Helbindi got up and walked back into the darkness.

Loki watched the doors open to let Helbindi in, his gait ever so dominating as he walked past the judgmental eyes of every other giant in the court with his own little battalion following him, carrying weapons of all sorts. "A king with no powers has no right to sit on the throne, Laufeyson," Helbindi roared, ground his staff a few feet away from the stairs to the throne, creating a crack in the ground. "And a Jotun with Asgard in his blood has no right to stay alive in Jotunheim." Weapons were drawn at anyone who was not on Helbindi's side. Javier was already on his feet, running by Loki's side with his camera. Loki still had his mouth covered with his hand, as if in a tired trance. "Everybody out," he commanded ever so smoothly to his audience- who was hesitant at first, but left as soon as the God's eyes pierced through every last one of them. Left alone with his brother's radical followers, he sighed out loud, his fingers still drumming. Javier felt a buzz in his pocket, making him take out the little tablet he used to control his cameras. "Your actions with every passing moment make me more sure of your inability to rule over the subjects, brother mine," the God simply commented. The seriousness on Javier's face was turning into a field of fear. "Oh, I am not asking, brother mine," Helbindi snared at Loki, "I am taking what is mine." "And why would I give you anything you want." "Ask your little plaything," Helbindi smirked. The drumming of those pale fingers stopped. Silence eroded in the throne room. And slowly a shallow panting was audible from the God's side. The camera suddenly lost its balance and fell down on the armrest before toppling on the throne behind Loki, his back still in the frame. Light reflected through Javier's eyes, more precisely through his tears, as he moved the tablet towards Loki. "Stop, please, you cannot do this!" your voice echoed through the tablet, and all the lines on Loki's face disappeared. His body got up from the throne, his eyes still stuck on the device, looking at the aftermath of Helbindi's actions. There was no emotion on the God's face while he witnessed everything recorded on the drone. He did not even budge till the recording finished. Once the screen blacked out, he swerved the tablet for Javier to take back. His gaze was apparently still stuck on the black stones on the floor, his jaw threateningly sharp in whatever light coming from the nearest star. "If you want to see her alive again, go back to your ship before the star drops fro-," "You touched her." His voice was just a decibel higher than a whisper; his shoulders stiff. The silver bracelets were visible on his wrists, more so with the light reflecting from them. His pale fingers now turned into fists. "You hurt her." Nothing but the resonating crack of a metal reverberated through the hall and everything went black.

The drone sat over the bars, recording the visible shivering breaths coming out of you while your skin turned pale, your fingers blue and your hairs were already collecting frost over them, despite moving your legs as close as you possibly could to your body. "P-plea-hease," your voice shuddered, "s-s-stop hi-im. T-there is-s-s st-i-ill time." "Your master is quite possibly begging on his knees by now," Kruge cackled, gulping down the mead and pouring more from the barrel next to him. Lulu was trying his best to keep your warm with his little body, wrapping himself around your neck while whimpering for you. Kruge was about to finish another mug when his ears caught a snicker that slowly turned into a weak laughter. The drone recorded you chuckling through the pain of the blight. "What is so comedic," Kruge snarled at you. "You thought I was telling you to stop for Loki's sake?" you laughed a little more, making the Jotun simmer with building rage. "I was telling you to stop your master before it's too late, you sewage rat's tick." The lens panned in on your features, all those helpless tears replaced by a smirk that could put the devil to shame. "You master thinks I am Loki's weakness." Your eyes glistened with a tint of some hidden darkness inside them in contrast to all the white around you. "Because I made him think that, you buffoon." "He is nothing without his essen-" "Count your peaceful breaths, you son of a bitch," you stressed, never batting your eyelids, "because you are not going to die an easy death today." You smiled turned into a chuckle before your eyes turned heavy and you fell down. The drone- in its last few minutes- went dark, but not before recording Lulu's cried, mewls, howls that slowly turned into a blood curdling roar echoing till the end.

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joshuas · 4 years ago

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facts

♫ pairing: hwang hyunjin x female reader

♫ genre: fluff, crack (seriously, do not question how i came up with this), domestic au, established relationship au

♫ warnings: mentions spiders, and mentions use of alcohol?

♫ word count: 1.5k

♫ prompt: “are you drunk?” “not nearly enough” from this prompt list !

♫ a/n: this was actually a request from @starteez and dedicated to her as a very very belated birthday present <33 hope you like it :)))

♫ summary: hyunjin gets super drunk and has a Crisis, meanwhile you just wanted to watch the latest episode of your favourite drama.

♫ tagging: @jadezircon @mostlikelynotmelissa and @potato2earth - let me know if you would like to be part of the tag list !

You sighed, settling into the couch, tub of ice cream, and tv remote in hand.

It was Friday night. Otherwise known as you and Hyunjin’s drama night, in which you’d watch the latest episode of the most recent drama the two of you were hooked on. However, today, Hyunjin had decided to go out for drinks with Felix, ditching you and your drama night. Initially, you were annoyed (not that he was hanging out with his friends but more so that he messed with your tradition), but you realised that you could just watch it without him. I mean... he was going out and having fun, who’s to say that you can’t do the same by chilling with your favourite characters and finding out about whatever dark secrets they had been just about to reveal in the previous episode. Okay... the latter of that was your main motivation for it. You’re not that lonely or sad.

Nodding resolutely, you scooped your ice cream, settling into the couch as the drama played, your attention fixated on the screen.

The sharp buzz of your phone startled you out of your immense concentration, the caller ID flashing to reveal your boyfriend, Hyunjin.

Your eyes widened in panic, your hands knocking the ice cream off of your lap as you reached around for the TV remote. The phone buzzed continuously, ringing as you fumbled around for the off button, leaving you breathless as you picked up the phone on the final ring,

“He—“

“Y/NNNN~” Hyunjin whined into the phone, his breathing heavy.

“Hyunjin? What’s wrong? Are you crying? ...Are you drunk?” You closed your eyes, only to open them again in confusion as you heard sniffling on the other end of the phone.

“Not nearly e-enough! I-I don’t w-want to be e-eaten.” He sobbed into the phone.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion,

“What?” Your tone coming out sharper than expected, eliciting more sobs from Hyunjin.

“F-felix w-was telling me about how f-female s-spiders e-eat their m-mates, and now I’m scared and I’m n-never coming h-home because y-you’re going to e-eat me.” Hyunjin breathed, between sobs.

...What?

“Excuse me? Why would I eat you. Felix was talking about spiders.” You said, slightly offended by his drunk comparisons.

He breathed deeply,

“Y-you know how the other day we were watching a Marvel movie and y-you k-know what you s-said? You said that the c-character you r-relate with t-the m-most with is Black Widow!” He exclaimed, almost hysterical.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, as he spoke incoherently at the phone, sobs heaving out of him as if he had just witnessed something deeply distressing. Well... what his drunk mind was picturing was slightly distressing, so it made sense.

“Well yes, because she’s a strong, independent female lead. Anyway, you’re too drunk to understand any of that. Hyunjin. Where are you?”

“I’m not telling you! Y-you can’t come to Felix’s house!” Hyunjin attempted to ward you off before realising his mistake a second later. “FELIX! Y/N’s COMING! She’s going to eat us—“

You hung up on him, grabbing your keys and heading out the door... ignoring the melting ice cream on the floor.

As soon as you reached Felix’s apartment you flung the door wide open, apologising profusely as a wincing Felix came out from behind, guiding you to your extremely drunk boyfriend.

Not noticing your entrance, Hyunjin had positioned himself quite... oddly, so that his head was on the rug on the floor but his legs were on the couch, a hand flung dramatically on his forehead, and another hand on the floor, not too dissimilar to someone doing a one-handed snow angel.

He looks like a four-year-old...

You cleared your throat behind him, approaching him tentatively. Whipping around, his eyes widened when they landed on you, panic flashing through them as he scrambled to sit upright.

“What are you doing here?” His words, although slightly slurred, still portrayed fear that was not well-founded at all. How his drunken state got to thinking you were a spider was beyond you, but then again, he was drinking with Felix, so who knows what went down there.

“I came to pick you up since you’re um. Drunk.” You raised your eyebrows, stating the obvious.

“No! You’re not allowed to take me back to your web.” He stumbled forward, couch cushion in hand in an attempt to ward you off.

Web? Oh my god...

“Can you— ugh. I’m not a spider! I’m not going to eat you! You’re my boyfriend, for God’s sake, and I love you, and I’m not a cannibal. Besides, you wouldn’t be very delicious, you’re mostly just muscle.” You sighed, raising your arms in frustration and defeat.

Hyunjin’s eyes widened in offence, placing a hand on his chest and stepping back, tears started to well in his eyes.

“I— oh no. What? Why are you crying again?” You panicked, settling him on the couch, rubbing his back soothingly as you mentally cursed his current over sensitive state.

“Y-you really t-think I w-wouldn’t be d-delicious?” He sobbed louder into your shoulder, as you rubbed soothing patterns on his back.

You rolled your eyes,

He’s so drunk.

“This conversation is so concerning, and one that I want to discontinue at all costs. I'm not a spider, and I'm not going to eat you. I don't want to comment on... that.” You deadpanned.

“How did you guys even get this drunk?” You glanced between Hyunjin and Felix who had emerged from the kitchen, ice pack on his slightly bruised face.

“It was all him. I asked him if he wanted to come over and watch the latest episode of this drama we’re both really into. He started drinking as soon as we started watching because he didn’t want to remember any of it so that when he watches it with you his reactions are genuine. Eventually, he got too drunk to even sit still, so we turned it off and started talking about stuff.” Felix shrugged.

“...and you somehow got to talking about spiders?” You asked, unimpressed.

“We were baking because he wanted to make you cookies, since he felt guilty...for basically watching nothing. I guess he still felt guilty for the action. Anyway, he freaked out after seeing a spider. Hyunjin, plus being drunk and his usual dramatic self is not fun. Especially when spiders are involved. I told him that fact because it was at the top of my head and he gave up on the cookies and started freaking out about you. Speaking of the cookies, I should probably check on them. You need to take this home before the rest of the guys come here if you want to have any of it.” He headed to the kitchen, leaving you and Hyunjin alone in the living room.

“Hyunjin, why didn’t you just stay home if you were just going to watch the drama? You know that today is drama night.” You crossed your arms, directing your attention once again to your sniffling boyfriend.

“I didn’t want to cry in front of youuu,” he sobbed. “I didn’t know what was going to happen next and I thought they might break up and I just...” he trailed off.

“You know that makes no sense right? You’re literally sobbing in front of me now. Also, you’re my boyfriend, I’m supposed to be there for you, tears and all. Besides, we’ll probably both be sobbing if the main characters broke up. We’ve shipped them too much for that to not be devastating.“ You said resolutely, your gaze softening as you looked at him, snuggling closer to you.

“I knowww.”

“Come on, let’s go home. There’s a tub of ice cream waiting for the both of us.”

Your drama night was postponed to Saturday seeing as soon as the two of you arrived at your apartment, Hyunjin collapsed and fell into a deep sleep on the couch... and your ice cream was on the floor, melted and no longer edible.

Leading you to Saturday night, where you and Hyunjin were snuggled together on the couch, wrapped in a blanket burrito, eating the cookies he baked yesterday, alongside a new tub of ice cream, whilst bawling your eyes out.

“I told you,” he sniffed “I knew this would happen.”

Your tear-filled eyes blurred your vision as you tried to focus on the crying characters on the screen, reaching for another tissue,

“I know, but it’s not as bad when we’re watching it together, and besides, these cookies are incredible with ice cream.” You snuggled into him and gave him a watery smile.

“Hey, as long as you’re not a spider and about to eat me, I’m all for our drama nights and cuddles,” Hyunjin smirked.

You pushed him lightly,

“Oh my god... how do you even remember any of the stuff you said? You were ridiculous.”

“I don’t know but the fact still holds.”

“It’s not even a fact! I'm human!”

💫 masterlist !

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drmmyrs · 4 years ago

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Remember Me (Becca x MC)

So, weird story. I was randomly browsing tumblr one time when this ask pops out at the top of the screen (req about amnesia au Becca’s POV). It wasn’t even related to anything I was reading but checked my inbox and it wasn’t there. Most probably the ask isn’t for me but still wrote it just in case 😅

PS if someone DID send me this ask, kindly drop me a message just so I know I’m not seeing things 😭

PPS I’m trying out a new writing style and I’m not sure if it’s any good so I’d really appreciate any feedback 🥺 (this will be a mini series too, I think, since the angst potential is definitely there 😂)

PPPS title is inspired from the song in Coco just cause I’ve been playing it a lot on piano recently

tag list: @whackawriting @samanthadalton @crazzyplays @uselesslesbianfr @baexpoppy @alexroyard @alexlabhont @veenast @noixngn @sillyandcutewizardstuffs (If you wanna be added or removed or just prefer a certain ship just let me know ❤️)

Pairing: Becca x MC (Emily)

Word Count: 2090

I don't remember what happened, nor know where I am, but I hear shouting, lots of it. I try to move, but my body feels completely numb; the only thing I can feel is the trickle of liquid that splatters across my face. Rain? I open my eyes strenuously, but all I can see past my blurry vision are brown eyes glistening with tears. I can't quite make out her face, but for some reason, seeing her cry sends a flurry of emotions that hurt more than my throbbing head. I try to open my mouth, hoping to provide comfort somehow, but no words come out. She is saying something over and over again, something about leaving? But my head hurts too much to be able to comprehend. A siren then blares from a distance, growing louder by the second as flashes of red cloud my vision. And that is when everything turns black.

I slowly open my eyes–still reeling from the nightmare that somehow felt too real–and harsh, blinding lights immediately greet me. I hastily shut my eyes back and suddenly become well aware of the ache engulfing my entire body. It isn't before long that I realize that someone is holding my hand, tracing lazy circles against my skin ever so often. I try to move it but only manage to lift a finger, and at once, the grip tightens and becomes still for a moment before I hear a voice– How can a voice sound so familiar... yet so strange? It's saying my name, urgent and gentle at the same time as though I might break at any second. I try to open my eyes, but exhaustion grips me powerless. And soon, I succumb to its fiery grasp as I slip back into slumber.

When I wake up again, I already feel much stronger than before. The ache in my body has turned into a dull hum as if sharp nails are gently caressing my skin, enough to be felt but not to hurt. I look around the room, panic swelling in my chest as I take in the sight of different medical equipment looming around my bed and needles sticking out of my arm. I fight the urge to squirm as I take big, calming breaths, ignoring how the four white walls seem to close in on me. Thankfully, the door opens, and a nurse walks in, temporarily distracting me from my distress. She smiles upon seeing me awake and walks towards me.

"Welcome back, Ms. Davenport. How are you feeling?"

"W–where am I?" I ask weakly.

"In the hospital. A month ago, you were involved in a car crash, and your head was hurt pretty badly," the nurse says sympathetically. She is now taking my vitals, scribbling something on her chart from time to time.

Car crash?

I scrunch my eyes, trying to remember, but the harder I try, the more my head hurts.

"Wait. A month? Are you saying that I've been here... for a month?"

The nurse nods. "You've been unconscious the entire time. But your vitals now are looking good. The doctor will just run a few tests to make sure we don't miss anything."

I stay quiet for a while, my mind still processing everything the nurse just said, which has only raised new questions.

"Your friends and family were really worried about you, you know. There wasn't a day when you didn't have any visitors. Especially that special friend of yours you were in the car with." The nurse turns towards me, holding a pen against her chin. "What was her name? Em–Emma, I think? She barely left your side. She actually just went to grab some food before you woke up."

...I don't know any Emma, but I don't tell her that.

"What about my parents?"

"Your mom and sister usually visit during the evening."

"And my father?"

The nurse shakes her head. "I don't think I've ever seen your father."

The nurse leaves after a while, and the doctor comes inside the room shortly. I answer a few questions before I'm escorted outside to take some tests. Afterward, the nurse leads me back to my room and gently guides me to bed.

"Would you like me to call in your visitors?" the nurse asks.

I nod.

The nurse goes out, and soon my mom walks in followed by–

"Emily." I frown. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Both of them stop in their tracks. My mom looks at me in concern and confusion, while Emily looks like I just punched her in the gut.

Anger bubbles up inside me as a realization comes to mind. "Y–you. You're the one who did this, aren't you? You're the reason I'm here."

A guilty look flickers across her face, confirming my suspicions. And before I can stop myself, I shout at her to leave, but she stands there motionless, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

"Go get the doctor," my mom tells her, which snaps her out of her shock. She scurries out of the room at the same time my mom starts walking towards me.

"Why is she here, Mom?"

My mom stops at the side of the bed and reaches out to stroke my hair. "Honey, the accident was not her fault."

"But she was there with me..."

"Yes."

"Why?"

My mom's hand goes still, resting on top of my head. "Becca, what was the last thing you remember?"

"I..." I close my eyes and think hard for a moment. "I–I remember hosting the Kappa party. But that doesn't make any sense. Why would I leave with Emily?"

A brief look of panic flashes across her eyes.

"Mom? What's wrong?"

My mom smiles at me, but it looks forced. "It's nothing, sweetie. The doctor will be here soon."

But I can see that she's trying her best to keep calm–the look on her face similar to when she would talk to my little sister and me right after we would hear her and dad fight.

The doctor comes in a little while later, asking a bunch of questions similar to my mom's. They then do more tests on me, and I grow scared by the minute, not understanding what the hell is going on. Eventually, I'm back in my room alone, my mom and the doctor staying outside to talk. After some time, they enter the room, and my mom sits beside me, taking my hand as the doctor walks towards the other side of the bed.

I look at my mom, drained from all the medical tests I went through the entire day. "What's happening, Mom? I'm scared."

My mom squeezes my hand and gives me a reassuring smile. "The doctor will explain it to you, sweetie. But I'll be right here the whole time." She then gives a single nod to the doctor.

The doctor smiles at me politely. "How are you feeling, Becca?"

I stare at him, suddenly annoyed at being asked the same question over and over again.

"Right then." The doctor clears his throat. "During the accident, your brain was affected more than we initially thought." He pauses, and I meet his gaze, willing him to go straight to the point. "It seems like you have retrograde amnesia, meaning that you have no memory of the past three years of your life."

The doctor goes on and on about the technicalities, but I'm not listening anymore. His voice is reduced to background noise as I repeat his words inside my head, trying to grasp the implications of what he just said. I prop myself up, looking wildly around the room, tugging at my shirt as if it would help me breathe. But it doesn't. My body feels numb, which is why I almost don't notice my mom pulling me into a tight hug, stroking my back comfortingly as she whispers reassurances. I focus on her voice, forcing myself to take deep breaths as I slowly begin to calm down. I pull away after some time, recomposing myself as I find my voice.

"Three years," I whisper.

"We'll help you recover your memories, honey. But for now, you can ask me anything you like."

"I–I think I just need some rest."

My mom nods, helping me settle back in bed before she leaves, promising to be back tomorrow.

Sleep comes easy to me, and I wake up the next day with Madison sitting at the chair next to my bed, browsing her phone.

"Hey, Maddie."

She looks up from her phone, a smile lighting up her face before she practically jumps out of her chair to hug me. "Becca!"

"Ow, that... kinda hurts."

When she pulls away from me, her eyes are teary.

"Sorry, I just missed you so much. You were gone for so long! I thought–"

"Hey, hey, none of that," I say, smiling at her.

She pulls the chair closer to my bed and sits down. "How are you, Becca? Your mom told me about your... condition."

I stare at the ceiling. "Yeah, it sucks." I snap my head back to her. "Tell me something. Do we still hang out a lot?"

"We still meet up from time to time. Not as much as we used to, though," Madison says, smiling sadly.

I nod. "Who do I usually hang out with now?"

"Emily."

I furrow my eyebrows. "Did we become close friends or something?"

"Oh, right. You've only been together for like two years," Madison murmurs contemplatively. "She's your girlfriend, Becca."

I let the information sink in. "You have got to be kidding me." I stare at her wide-eyed. "How–What–Why?"

Madison recounts our 'love story,' each detail more absurd than the last. I don't want to believe any of it, but Emily as my girlfriend... it actually explains everything. I rub my temples. How the hell did that happen? I remember like it was yesterday when she tried to steal Chris away from me. And now... and now...

"Maddie? Can you do me a favor and grab me something to eat? I'm starving."

Madison smiles. "Of course."

Madison goes out in a while, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

***

After a few more days of recovery, I am finally allowed to leave the hospital. Despite my protests, my mom explains that I will have to stay with Emily and her friends at what I assume has been my home for the past two years. She explains that she prefers for someone to look after me constantly, and she will not be able to do that with her job and all.

Outside the hospital, I find Emily waiting near a car; her eyes are bloodshot, as if she hasn't slept a wink in days. When she sees me approaching, her face immediately brightens up. Our gazes lock briefly before I turn back to my mom.

"Are you sure I can't stay with you?"

My mom smiles sadly. "I'm sorry, honey. I wish you could, but..."

"It's okay, I understand."

"Look, I know you don't remember, but these people you've been living with... they care about you very much.”

I nod.

My mom pulls me into a hug before guiding me inside the car, shutting the door afterward. She and Emily talk for a brief moment outside, and I watch as she hugs Emily before walking away. Emily steps into the passenger seat.

Zack, who is sitting in the driver's seat, turns around and smiles at me warmly. "I'm glad you're back."

I shift uncomfortably, ignoring his gaze. "Thanks."

We drive home silently, awkwardness saturating the car space. Upon arriving, I observe the details of the house, seeing if it sparks any memories... but nothing. I see Emily looking at me intently, probably thinking the same thing. They then lead me inside the house, and I step in hesitantly, taking in the surroundings, which vary immensely from the sorority house, the last place I lived based on my memories. Emily guides me to my room, lingering near me as I open the door.

"Becca–"

I turn towards her. "Please don't. I know you think I'm your girlfriend. A–and I guess I was. But as far as I remember, I don't like you at all. So I would appreciate it if you just leave me alone." I turn around and go inside my room, shutting the door behind me. I then lie on the bed, trying to forget how the light dimmed out of Emily's eyes as I broke her heart.

#becca #becca davenport #rebecca davenport #becca x mc #the freshman series #the freshman #the sophomore #the junior #the senior #playchoices #play choices #my work #my fanfics #my writing #request??

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siriuslystarbucks · 4 years ago

Text

Every ‘I Love You’

Written for Starbuck Ship Week run by @prongsfoot-discord Day 1: Time Loops. I’ve never done a time loop fic before lol

Pairing: James Potter/Sirius Black

Tags: AU: No Voldemort, Love Confessions, Time Loop, Angst, Confusion, First Kiss, Communication, Getting Together

Summary: One night, James tells Sirius that he loves him. He does it again the next night. And the next and the next, and Sirius doesn't know how long he's been living this day, but he would like it to stop, thanks, because he still doesn't know what to reply.

Read below or on AO3

James woke him up that morning. Not by shaking him awake-- which was something he'd done plenty of times because he claimed that having to be the only one up was a horrible fate-- but by whistling. He was in an overly cheerful mood this morning, and he was whistling tunelessly as he walked about the room, getting ready.

Sirius pulled his curtains open but didn't otherwise try to rouse himself. He was perfectly comfortable where he was.

"Sod off with that!" Moony yelled, throwing a pillow at James.

It hit him harmlessly in the side. James paused whistling for long enough to pick it up, then he started whistling again-- louder, this time, to prove a point about how untouchable his happiness was-- and he walked over to Moony's bed, then started whacking his legs with the pillow. "You've got to get up if you want breakfast," he said, practically singing the words.

Sirius grinned, too tired to join in on the teasing but enjoying it all the same.

James looked over at him, as if sensing that he was watching, and his smile widened. He winked, whacked Moony one more time, then dropped it at the side of his bed to continue getting ready.

"Ready for another thrilling day of classes?" James asked him as he got closer.

"As thrilling as they ever are," Sirius responded around a yawn. Not one of his best replies, but James was smiling at him like it was award-winning.

Classes were as boring as advertised, and that night, they were down in the common room, tucked away on a couch together, doing their homework.

"I love you," James said. He looked at Sirius with hearts in his eyes. He was so sincere that it made Sirius's chest hurt.

"I-" Merlin, what was he going to say? "I'm sorry," he said by rote. It's what he said to the people that confessed their feelings to him. Half the time he didn't even recognise them, so it wasn't hard to let them down easy. Even for the people he knew, it wasn't that difficult to tell them that he was sorry, but he didn't feel the same. Looking at James was completely different. James meant something to him; James meant the world to him, and as soon as he said the word 'sorry', James looked crushed.

"Oh. I- no I'm the one that's sorry. I thought... I mean, I thought that you were- well, I was wrong. Doesn't matter." He turned back to his book. His shoulders hunched up towards his shoulders as his face burned red.

Normally, when he was upset, Sirius would try to make him feel better. Since he was the cause this time, he thought it would be for the best that he didn't try to comfort him.

After a minute of awkward silence, James muttered, "I'm calling it an early night."

"Goodnight," Sirius mumbled, just as quietly.

He shuffled away and up the stairs to the dormitory, looking defeated.

Sirius felt like scum. He well and truly did. He didn't know what he could've said to James that would've been better, but he did feel bad about it. By the time he went up to the dormitory-- after giving it plenty of time-- James's curtains were drawn, and he seemed to be asleep.

The next morning, Sirius knew that the air would be fragile. He pulled his own curtains open first thing, but he took plenty of time getting ready. He didn't want for James to think that he'd rushed to get away from seeing him or summat.

When James woke, he seemed... cheerful. He was even whistling tunelessly to himself, just like he'd done yesterday. Sirius only remembered that he'd been whistling yesterday because it had annoyed Moony so much that he'd-

"Sod off with that!" Moony yelled, throwing a pillow at him.

It hit James harmlessly in the side. Just like it had yesterday. James paused whistling for long enough to pick it up, then he started whistling again as he walked over to Moony's bed and started whacking his legs with the pillow. "You've got to get up if you want breakfast," he sang.

This was just like yesterday. Sirius frowned as a feeling of dread crawled over him. It was like yesterday had never happened.

James looked over to Sirius with a grin, but it faded after a few seconds.

Okay, so he'd just been being paranoid. James remembered what happened yesterday. He'd just been trying to pretend like everything was still normal. Sirius sent him a weak smile.

"Are you alright?" James asked, walking over in concern.

"Yeah. I just didn't want to make things awkward for you. After last night."

The concern was replaced with confusion. "What do you mean, last night?"

"When we... y'know, talked. In the common room."

"We weren't in the common room last night. We went for a run in the Forbidden Forest, remember? Went straight up to bed when we got back." James wasn't messing with him. His expression was one hundred percent serious. He wasn't joking around or playing a weird prank. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Fine," Sirius said automatically. What he 'remembered' from yesterday must've been a dream. A horrendously vivid dream, but a dream all the same. "A little tired, I guess."

...But if it had been a dream, then why had Prongs and Moony's interaction been the exact same this morning?

"I love you," James said.

"Why?" Sirius asked. He was curious. He honestly couldn't wrap his head around it. The first time James said it, he'd been blindsided. It still didn't sit right with him. There was a twist in his stomach when James said it. Three little words, and he was taken entirely out of himself. James said 'I love you' and Sirius had no confidence, not for himself, not for James, and absolutely none for their relationship. He was second guessing all of it, and without James being able to remember it when a new day dawned, he couldn't move past it. He'd gotten used to James listening and giving him advice.

James smiled faintly at him when he asked. "It's not any one thing."

"No, but... why me? Surely there's someone else out there that you'd rather be with."

"I can't imagine being in love with someone else," James said, which made the knot in Sirius's stomach squeeze tighter. "Isn't it what everyone wants? To be with their best mate?"

"I don't think so," Sirius said honestly. It sounded... very James, but not like anyone else. He couldn't imagine Moony or Wormtail wanting to date their best friend.

“I love you,” James said, looking over at Sirius earnestly. It was the first time he’d ever said it. At least, as far James was concerned, that was true.

Sirius had been living this day over and over. Each Tuesday night, no matter what he did in the day, James would confess to him. He’d done this at least ten times already, and he still didn’t know what to say in response.

James’s expression fell a little at his extended silence. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

“What would you like for me to say?” He wasn't careful with his tone. It didn't have any of the fondness that he felt for James. He said it flatly, like he didn't care about James in the slightest.

Sometimes, James got sad. Right now, he got angry. His expression hardened. "Fine. Be like that. You could've told me flat out that you didn't feel the same." He slammed his textbook shut and grabbed his bag. It looked like he was juggling all his items as he stormed out of the library.

Sirius sighed, putting his elbow on the table and leaning into his hand. He'd chosen the library this time with the specific hope that James wouldn't want to say anything when they were so far away from Gryffindor Tower and didn't have an easy way out.

He went to bed that night, keeping his head down and feeling guilty.

He knew that in the morning, James would be whistling like nothing happened, and he'd have to sit through the same exact lectures again. They'd been boring the first time he heard them. One repetition had been annoying, but he was convinced he was going to claw his eyes out before he managed to get out of this.

"It's a time loop," Sirius said. He didn't like going to Professor Dumbledore, but he was desperate. He'd skivved classes and spent all day in the library. He'd spent several days in the library. Over a week, possibly; it's not like he was keeping count, but it occurred to him too late that maybe he should've been trying to keep track. He'd been through every book about time travel, time loops, and time related curses. There was nothing useful. He had a better chance of getting answers by talking to Dumbledore than he did sneaking out and trying to find more books elsewhere.

"Curious," Dumbledore said. His brow had furrowed slightly, and he was looking at Sirius intently instead of with his usual casualness. "I know that you dabble in a certain amount of- ahem, experimental and high level magicks. Is there anything you've done that might have triggered this? The smallest footnote in an old ritual can have side effects."

Sirius shook his head without needing to think about it. After reliving the day for the third time, he had considered that option. Unfortunately, things had been quiet on the Marauders side of things. They hadn't done anything in the week-- or even month-- leading up to this stupid Tuesday that they hadn't done a dozen times before. "I'm sure that it's nothing I've done. I haven't done anything new leading up to this for weeks."

"It's... possible that someone else is reliving this day, and you were caught up in it."

He shook his head again. "Everyone else is the same. They only change if I do." He'd checked once, just to be sure. Of course, he couldn't remember everything he'd done the first day, but he'd tried his best, and it had been enough for him to be convinced that he was the only one that knew they were doing this more than once.

"I imagine you'll have to analyze your day then, Mister Black."

Sirius grimaced. He knew that it was his last name, but he hated being called that.

"Whatever the answer is, I think it'll come from your own actions. Not a spell or ritual."

"But this is a magical problem."

"Humans possess a kind of magic all unto themselves. Something that has nothing to do with wands or potions. We have the power to change, at will and deliberately."

Sirius blinked. He hadn't wanted to have a counseling session, he'd wanted a fix to this.

"I believe that when you find the change you need, the loop will be broken."

"Seriously? That's it?" Sirius asked, not bothering to be nice. It's nice like the Headmaster would remember this in the morning, after all. "That's your great advice? Change myself?"

"A simple answer, but not an easy one," he said, apparently unbothered.

"I love you," James said.

"So what? You're a sodding teenager. You'll fall out of love in a month."

James looked at him like he didn't recognise him. "Are you joking right now? Because if you are, it's not funny."

"And if I'm not?" Sirius asked, looking at him challengingly.

James didn't answer for a moment. He just looked at Sirius as sadness creeped into his features. "I don't know what I did to make you care so little about me."

"I-" Sirius startled, taken aback. "Of course I care."

"You're not acting like it. I don't want for you to lie. I'm not asking for you to claim that you return my feelings when you don't, but I expect for you to act like my friend, to act like the person I fell in love with." James paused, considering as a thought occurred to him. "Are you feeling alright? You've been acting off all day. I thought you already suspected how I felt, so I thought it would be best to come out with it, but I was wrong, wasn't I?"

It was kind. As kind as James always was to him, even when he didn't deserve it. If Sirius thought that he would wake up tomorrow to a new day instead of the same day, yet again, then he would latch onto this. He would tell James that he was sorry, but yes, that's what it was; he wasn't feeling well and he'd been on edge all day.

But this wasn't anything new, and they would do some horrid exchange tomorrow like nothing had changed-- because as far as James was concerned, there was absolutely nothing that had.

"I don't know what you want me to say, James," Sirius said, exhausted. If James would just tell him what he wanted to hear, then he could do that next time and hopefully it would break the loop. It was, after all, the only big event in this day. "Tell me what you want me to say, and I'll say it."

"I don't know either," James replied, but Sirius could tell it was a lie. He was heartbroken though, and it was Sirius's fault, so he didn't push.

He could work on it the next morning.

"Let's play hooky today," Sirius said, one hand on James's arm and trying to smile like he didn't have a care in the world.

James grinned back freely. "Sure."

It was nice to finally have a break from classes, but Sirius finally let himself relax around James again. Ever since that first 'I love you', Sirius had been tied up in knots worrying about it. He didn't want to hurt James's feelings, but by trying to push him away, all he'd done was make himself miserable.

They had fun that day. Sirius pressed a kiss to James's mouth before they tried to sneak back in.

"Sirius," James whispered, when they were still standing so close together they could feel the other's warmth. "If we're doing this-"

"I don't know if we are," Sirius said. He kept his tone gentle, but there was no denying the panic that shot through him. "You're my best mate, but I don't..." He didn't know if he wanted to date James. If he was willing to take the chance.

James swallowed thickly. "Right. You can think about it. I've got time."

James might not know it, but right now, they had nothing but time.

They got caught sneaking back in and got detention for a week for going off the grounds and skipping their classes. It didn't matter. The only one who would remember in the morning, was Sirius.

Sirius had done this enough times that he knew the look James got before confessing. Before James had a chance to say it this time, Sirius asked, "Do you ever get scared that you'll ruin something?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like us. Our friendship."

A beat. "I do. Sometimes. I think any risk would be worth it, in the end."

"Even if you don't get the answer you want?"

James frowned. "What're you getting at?"

Sirius didn't look up at him. He looked at his own hands, twirling a quill between his fingers absently. "I know how you feel about me."

Silence.

He still didn't look up at him. He wasn't sure he wanted to see his reaction. "And it terrifies me. The way you look at me sometimes... it's like I could bugger up everything under the sun and you'd still love me."

"That would be true even if we were mates and that's where my feelings stopped," James said quietly.

"And that doesn't scare you?"

"You feel the same for me."

That was- sod it, that was the truth. Sirius was beyond confused for how he felt for James ever since this time loop had started, but he cared about him. He loved him. He would do anything and everything for James if only he knew how. "I do," he admitted. "And it's terrifying."

"What about it scares you?"

"I don't know. I've never felt like this for anyone else. I feel like it could destroy both of us, and there would be nothing left."

"Rather bold of you to assume that we'd let that happen," James said. "What makes you think either of us would be willing to lose our friendship?"

"Fair enough," Sirius said, finally looking up so he could give James a smile.

James looked subdued, but he smiled back. 'How much you love me scares me' wasn't the response he'd been hoping for. Sirius knew that, even if he didn't know what James had actually wanted. Probably 'I love you too', but despite the countless times he'd confessed, Sirius had never been able to get him to admit that that's what he wanted to hear.

It's part of what confused him, and a big part of why it terrified him. To anyone else, what Sirius said just now would've been crushing. James looked a little sad and disappointed, but not heartbroken.

He wished that he could keep this time. No recrimination, no hard feelings. James knew that Sirius knew how he felt, and he also knew that Sirius was beyond confused about his own feelings.

He sighed and went back to copying down the passage from the textbook. It wouldn't last till morning, but it gave him something to do while he kept James company.

Sirius woke up the next day, wondering how the hell he was supposed to get through this. He didn't know how to look James in the eye like everything was fine when he was so utterly lost.

He pushed his curtains open and rolled to his feet. He was so out of it that he didn't notice things were different until he ran into James in the loo. He frowned.

This wasn't right.

James was supposed to be happily whistling to himself and annoying Remus, not standing morosely in front of the mirror as he tiredly brushed his teeth. "Morning," James mumbled.

Sirius blinked.

"You okay?"

"Are you? I thought you'd be in a better mood."

James's brow creased. "Did we have a different conversation last night than the one I remember?"

Last night. Oh Merlin, he remembered. "What day is it?"

"Wednesday? You know, the day that comes after Tuesday?"

The relief Sirius felt was instantaneous. He didn't think about it, just wrapped his arms around James and rested his head against his shoulder. "Thank Merlin."

"Are you still asleep or summat?"

"More like I just woke up from a nightmare," Sirius muttered. A beat. "I don't know how you even know what love is. How do you know liking me a friend was different than fancying me?"

"I don't know," James said, which wasn't the most encouraging thing Sirius had ever heard. "I thought about it, and it seemed like it fit. Don't look at me like I have all the answers, Padfoot. I'm guessing most of the time, too."

"You always seemed so sure," Sirius said without really thinking about it. James had told him that he loved him a hundred different times, and not once had Sirius thought that he wasn't one hundred percent certain about it.

"What?"

Sirius shook his head.

That night, he asked James if he could kiss him instead of going for it without warning, and James said yes.

"So," James said, clearing his throat, "do I get an Acceptable?"

"Don't be stupid. You get an Outstanding."

"Even though you're not sure how you feel?" James asked.

"I know how I feel, I just... don't know if I'd call it in love or not. It might be more like halfway between in love and just loving you. How should I know?"

James only chuckled. "Well, whatever it is, it's good enough for me. If you're wanting to give this a try, that is."

"I am." He'd spent so many days trying to avoid James's confession, and all he'd needed to do was think about how he felt, not worry about what James wanted to hear him say.

#prongsfoot #marauders #james potter #sirius black #fanfic #my writing

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oddshelbyout · 4 years ago

Text

Left Behind // Michael Gray X Fem!Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend Michael shows up at your door early in the morning to tell you he has to go back home and you can’t go with him.

Warnings: Angst

Word Count: 1307

Author’s Note:

I’m not feeling so well lately so that might’ve been reflected on this one shot. Heads up, this doesn’t have a happy ending so please only read if you’re okay with that.

I don’t write for Michael usually but I felt like this prompt fit him the best so I hope you enjoy it <3

Also thanks a lot @deepdonutkid for being my beta reader, you’re the best <33

English is not my first language and I’m not always confident about my work so please let me know if I make any mistakes or anything I can fix in my writing.

You can ask to be added to my taglist. You can be tagged to works on a specific character or just any of my works. Please dm me or send your wish to my ask box if you’d like to be added.

Requests are open. You can request any Peaky Blinders related imagines or prompts for me to write. I’m a minor so I don’t take NSFW requests, please keep that in mind.

———————

Your curtains were closed. The first sunlight always woke you up in the morning and you hated waking up earlier than you should. You valued the time you spent sleeping.

What woke you up that morning wasn’t the sunbeam or your alarm clock. It was the loud, continuous knocks on your door. You jumped from your bed and looked at the clock. It was still really early and you had no idea who could be waiting.

You were scared to get up and open the door. Still you had no idea who was your early visitor. When the knocks got louder, you went to the entrance. You left your room and got the little statue on the corridor as a potential weapon.

You stood at the side of the door and asked “Who is it?” waited for an answer impatiently. Whoever was behind the door didn’t wait long, “It’s me.” a man’s voice called.

“That’s not helping! Who are you?” you shouted, you heard the man sigh from the other side of the thin door. “Michael.” he replied, which gave you a sigh of relief. It was your boyfriend but you still couldn’t find a reason for him to be here this early.

You put the statue down and opened the door. Your boyfriend was standing there with multiple luggages on the floor. “Are you moving here?” you asked while your eyes were locked on the bags.

A moment past without him giving an answer so you looked up. His jaw was clenched and he looked angry. “I’m leaving.” he replied, your jaw dropped. He was supposed to be in the States for at least a year more.

“You have to be kidding!” you exclaimed, Michael shook his head. “I’m not, Y/N.” he said, his impression reflected every single negative emotion inside of him on his pretty face.

“Take me with you then!” you suggested. There was no way you would let him leave without you. He had made you feel like nobody ever did. You felt alive with him, he helped you get a job, he gave you a new purpose.

“I can’t, it’s my family.” his voice was still, you saw his hands were rolled up in a fist. “Let’s not talk at the door, get inside.” you offered, he shook his head again. “I can’t, the ship leaves soon.” You frowned but from anger, not from sadness.

“What’s going on?” you asked, you felt like he was keeping something from you. The man who was standing before you, wasn’t the man you loved. It wasn’t the Michael you knew. He couldn’t look you in the eye. He wasn’t talking to you in his soft voice he always did and he definitely didn’t seem to care what you were saying.

He kept secrets from you before, about his family, about his job. He was a good liar you’ve learnt but he wasn’t a good one right now. You could see clearly that he was keeping something from you and it bothered him.

“Nothing, my mother called, they need me back home.” he simply replied. You weren’t buying it. “Why won’t you take me with you, I can pack quickly.” You wanted to go with him. After he told you about his life back in Britain, you knew he would get you another job way easier than here in the States. You were willing to move across the ocean and leave everything behind for him.

He responded: “Sorry, baby, this has to be our end, there’s nothing I can do about it.” You chuckled nervously. “You’re lying to me again!” He took a deep breath. You felt like he was preparing his lies once again. “Why can’t you tell me the truth for once!” you shouted. You were definitely going to hear from your neighbours about this. Even getting away from your annoying neighbours was an excuse to go with him.

Michael raised his voice as he tried to explain himself: “I’m not lying!”

You chuckled once again. “I’m not buying it.” you opposed him. He licked his lips and got closer to you, he put his arms around your waist.

His eyes were looking directly into yours, his lips were ready to welcome your kiss. “Tell me the truth, if you’re leaving without me, you owe me that at least.” you whispered. Michael took a deep breath for courage. You wanted a genuine answer and for him to be honest with you once.

“I fucked up.” he moaned, but that wasn’t enough. He owed you a real explanation for his sudden leave. Michael looked for satisfaction behind your eyes and when he couldn’t find it, he glared away. Whatever he was keeping must’ve been really bad.

“I need more information or I’m not letting you leave.” you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him closer than he already was. You were so close to him that you tempted to give him a kiss, his lips looked so welcoming.

“I tried to make business with the wrong people, so they’re after me, you’re staying here because you’ll be safer.” His words pushed you into a sudden realisation of danger. You licked your lips and nodded.

“What if they don’t follow you to Britain and then come find me? Wouldn’t I be safer with you?” you asked desperately.

“I can’t bring you home, I don’t know what my family will do.” he replied with a dull voice and then chuckled.

“They might even kill me themselves, because I fucked that bad.” he continued, which you understood, but still you weren't ready for him to leave.

“Would they?” you asked. Your heart ached. His answer was a quiet nod. “Take me with you please.” you begged.

You didn’t want him to go. You didn’t want to live without him. You hoped he would take him with you, when he was going to leave, but the conditions had changed. “Please Michael.” you begged once again.

Tears started falling from your eyes. You couldn’t believe you were crying. “Don’t leave without me.” You were desperate and you didn’t remember being this desperate before. It was the first time you genuinely felt desperate like you had nowhere else to go.

He smiled a little but there was an obvious shadow of sorrow behind it. Michael released his hands from your waist and placed them on your cheeks. He stared deep into your soul, before your lips welcomed his kiss.

The kiss didn’t feel like a goodbye, more like a hello. It was wet and hot and yet it managed to give you a false sense of security. When he pulled back, it was like you left a bit of your soul on his lips and he was going to leave with it.

He stepped back. “I’m so sorry.” he said and bit his bottom lip. Unable to say or do something, you just stood there, watched him grab his luggage from the ground and walk away with it. The last thing you heard from him was his footsteps going down the stairs of the apartment building you lived in.

Michael was gone. You weren’t going to see him again. You weren’t going to kiss him again. You knew he wouldn’t call you again. He had to leave you behind and you had to forget him for your own safety.

He left and took away your soul with him. The final realization of what happened left you numb. You finally closed your door. It was your way of saying goodbye to him, because he was gone, before you could say it. Now, you had to go on with your day and life. You knew the acceptance of what happened wasn’t going to come soon. You would go on with your day and all the days after, only avoiding the fact.

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