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ren-054 · 2 years ago

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another excerpt from my dca fic idea because I actually like this one more than the one I first posted tbh aksn

I doubt I’ll ever actually make this thing a whole fic but I still enjoy writing from time to time so making these little snippets of a potentially larger story is nice

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Basic premise: Y/N came to the Pizzaplex with their friends and wandered off into the daycare while no one was there and (due to their smaller than average size) was briefly confused for a lost child by the Daycare Attendant and stuff happens

This is how Y/N meets Moon after having fun with Sun

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I let out a yawn, a gentle weight overtaking my body. With eyelids heavy, I slid the bubble wand back into its container, no longer energized enough to wave it around. I surveyed my surroundings, the daycare seeming hazier than I remembered, the music reverberating. How long have I been in here?

A faint jingling of bells approached. “Are you alright, friend? Was something wrong with the bubbles?”

I mustered the energy to look up at the attendant, his body language noticeably toned down, almost nervous. My eyelids lowered on their own as I shook my head.

“No, it was fun,” I said, my voice starting to dip in fatigue. “I’m just getting tired…”

“Ohhh!” The Sun exclaimed, slightly hushed. He leaned in closer to me. “It must be nap time then!”

“N-Nap?” I parroted, my tired brain faintly perking up at the idea. “I get to have.. nap?”

“Of course, silly! Naps are for everyone!” The animatronic chirped, doing a twirl. “Just wait right here! I’ll get you some blankets and pillows!” He then skipped off, reaching a far corner of the daycare. I watched as he grabbed a section of the wall and slid it aside, revealing a hidden closet. Ah, I see.

I waddled to the center of the playroom as the Sun made his way back, the items he promised in hand. “Thank you,” I mumbled, rubbing my eyes as he put together my sleeping arrangements. While he didn’t look up, the rays circling his head briefly twitched in unison.

“O-Oh! You’re welcome!” The animatronic replied, the stutter in his voice box giving the impression of surprise. After one last fluffing of the pillows, Sun stood up. “Friend! Your bed is ready! What do you think? What do you think?”

It was a simple set up: just a mat with a couple fluffy blankets laid over top—albeit laid out and aligned perfectly—and a few pillows. Well, maybe little more than a few. They were laid out and stacked so my head would meet a pillow no matter where I rolled. I was pretty sure not every visiting child would be given this many pillows, but maybe it was just because I was the only one here Sun could pay attention to. Entranced by the inviting nest for sleep, I shambled over to the arrangement and immediately climbed in. A bright, staticky chuckle emitted from the attendant as he watched me get comfortable.

“You must’ve been super, SUPER tired!” I hummed contentedly in response, already feeling my consciousness slipping. Sun crouched next to me, lightly tapping my shoulder. I looked up.

“Sorry, friend, but ooone last thing…” His head spun playfully as he spoke, only stopping once it was at the same angle as mine. “Lights have to be out during nap time, so I’ll have to go!”

Wait, why does he need to leave? I get the parallel to the sun leaving when it’s dark, but he’s obviously not the actual sun. Maybe it’s a gimmick they do.

“But don’t be scared!!” Sun continued as he stood up, stepping out of view. “Mr. Moon will be here to keep you safe!”

Th…There’s another one?

“Sweetest dreams, starshine!”

A heavy clunk of a lever being pulled abruptly echoed into the daycare. I jolted. The shrill but quickly waning sound of the power turning off followed, and the room quickly went dark. The lack of music filling the space made the playroom seem so much.. larger, emptier. Any glimmer of light that peeked in from another part of the plaza died out before it made it to the center. Glow-in-the-dark stars swirled across the ceiling and were now the only light I had. What sounded like pained groaning was coming from somewhere else in the daycare, accompanied with quiet whirring and the subtle grinding of metal. What.. was that??

I didn’t feel as tired, all of a sudden.

However, the noises quickly ceased after that. Once the quiet returned, the warmth of the blankets and comfort of the darkness began to get to me, and my slowly paralyzing body reminded me that was I still just as tired. I snuggled into the pillow pile Sun set up for me and fell right asleep.

After some time, I woke up abruptly, only to be met with darkness. I felt uncomfortable.

“…Restroom,” I mumbled to myself, rolling onto my back. Admittedly, I was a little hesitant to leave my blanket cocoon. My muscles seemed to lock up when I felt the cool outside air hit my skin.

C’mon, Y/N, you’re not actually nine—even if the robot thinks you are—just get up!

Bracing myself, I sat up, my blankets collecting onto my lap, and I shivered. The chilly air seemed worse now. Uselessly, I scanned the darkness. They must have a restroom for these kids, right? Wrapping one of the blankets around me, I stood up.

Just as I was about to blindly scope the place, the faint sound of jingling bells made me freeze, the hairs on my neck raising. Slowly, I turned around. My vision was bathed in a menacing red.

“Look what we have here~ Now what are you doing up so early, little one?~”

Once my eyes finally adjusted, I stumbled back, gripping my blanket. A large figure loomed over me, its silhouette similar to Sun’s. Upon closer inspection, its—his?—face was almost exactly like Sun’s, save for the non-moon side of his faceplate being completely blackened and the sun rays being replaced with a nightcap. His pants and hat were now dark blue and speckled with stars, glowing like the ones on the ceiling. This has yet to mention his red headlights for eyes. The robot’s arched, ganglier posture gave him a more feral appearance. This must be Moon.

“You should be sleeping…” the animatronic cooed, slinking closer. While Sun’s voice sounded like if electrical fires could talk, his counterpart’s was like if babbling brooks had threatening auras.. and could talk. It was low and gravelly with a mischievous lilt to every sentence. In another situation, it could’ve been soothing to listen to as you fell asleep, but maybe that’s just me being weird.

“Wait, Moon,” I spoke up, voice small. The robot stopped, joints squeaking.

His head tilted, hidden mechanisms clicking as he did so. “Hmmm?~”

“…Do you know where the restroom is?” I asked. “I can’t see where I’m going.”

Silence. Then, Moon closed the distance between us, tentatively taking my hand into his. It was cool to the touch.

“I’ll show you,” he spoke in a surprisingly gentle tone. “But then it’s back to bed with you.” I hummed an OK as I let him lead the way.

After I was done with my business, he brought me back to my sleeping spot. The moment I laid down, Moon was quick to tuck me in, making my heart jump in fright for a moment. I let him follow through with it though, figuring it was just a force of habit from his programming. As the robot was about to remove himself, I grabbed one of his fingers, just barely able to wrap my hand around it.

“Thank you, Moon,” I mumbled, snuggling back into my pillows. The animatronic didn’t seem to mind my resistance and remained at my side, eyes dimmed to a faint crimson.

“It’s nothing, little one,” he replied.

“I’m probably not going to see you when I wake up, right?” I yawned, beginning to doze off. “I wouldn’t have seen you at all if I didn’t wake up when I did.”

“…That is correct.”

“Do you know my name?”

“…No.” That didn’t sound very sure. Hm.

“Well, my name’s Y/N”, I told him, the image of him beginning to melt in with the darkness. My hand shifted its grip on his finger. “It was nice meeting you Moon.”

I felt him pull away, and I frowned, eyes still closed. Suddenly, something enveloped my hand and squeezed around it. It felt warm.

“You too, Y/N. Sweet dreams.”

#sun and moon fanfic #dca fanfic #sun x y/n #moon x y/n #dca x reader #dca x y/n #sun x reader #moon x reader #sun and moon x reader #dca sun #dca moon #platonic #dca #text post #idk what to tag here I’m tired

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wastelandcth · 4 years ago

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Better Love - cth

part three: the longing

summary: Calum and Maeve get to know one another, in more ways than one.

author’s notes: I’m nervous about this one. Enjoy!

warnings: mentions of drinking, mentions of food, oh and smut.

masterlist || request || join my taglist!

part one || part two

I confessed the longing I was dreaming of Some better love, but there's no better love Beckons above me and there's no better love That ever has loved me, there's no better love

In her dreams, Maeve always saw a future that made her warm. She saw hills of green and trees that swayed with the wind. She'd always go there, sometimes it'd be a few weeks before she'd show back up in her dreamland, but it was always the same place, a house surrounded in green and blue. She'd felt someone's presence, never enough to see them or recognize who they were, but she knew she wasn't alone in her dreams. She felt safe there with the strange presence, felt the warmth of them and the love they had for her. When she was young, she had thought it was her parents, but as time went on and Maeve's dreams stayed the same, she knew it was someone she was yet to meet.

Even now, as she slept, she felt that same warmth enveloping her.

Maeve’s eyes snapped open as she heard a snore behind her. The light from outside had blinded her for a second and she’d let out a groan. Usually, in her dreams, the warmth would leave her as her brain woke her up and her eyes slowly opened. This time, however, the warmth was still there. She felt it in her stomach and all down her spine, the familiar presence of it making her think for a second she was still in her dreams and that she’d wake up any minute to feel it leave her. As the bedroom came into focus, the large window next to her letting in soft daylight, that warmth remained and it wasn’t until she felt an arm around her pulling her closer that she remembered the events of the night her trip changed forever.

“The bridge collapsed?” Calum asked confused and walked over to stand next to her, his bra ahh hitching as he looked out at the stone bridge, “Holy shit.”

“What’re we going to do?” Maeve asked shakily, her eyes staring out in awe, “That’s the only way back. W-we’re stranded here with no power and no way to contact anyone about what’s happened!”

“Maeve, deep breathes,” Calum said as he reached out and slowly placed his hands on the sides of her arms, “Hey, look at me, I promise, it’ll be okay.”

With a deep breath, Maeve relished in the warms of Calum’s touch, leaning into it as she tried to calm her racing mind. He was right, it would be okay, the power would eventually come on once the storm passed, and then they would be able to call someone for help. All they had to do was wait for the storm to pass and then they’d get help.

All Maeve had to do was survive a night with an incredibly handsome art history professor, a looming interview that could change her life, and a storm that seemed to have destruction on its mind. Calum's hands were still on her arms, squeezing them gently as he tried to ground her back into the moment at hand. If it had been any other situation, one in which Calum was more than a stranger and Maeve wasn't stuck in a cabin with him, she would have been flustered. But the view of the bridge outside of the window, looming in the distance as if mocking how her brain felt, kept her unannounced attraction towards the stranger attempting to calm her at bay.

“Okay, I…it’s going to be okay,” she breathed out after taking a couple more deep breathes, “I guess we just unofficially became roommates.”

The next two days had been spent in one another's company. Once the storm had settled and the drizzle had lulled the forest into a peaceful sleep, Calum and Maeve had spent most of the night huddled up in the living room, finding out more and more about one another. They talked about a lot that first night, both of them wanting to be absolutely positive that the other was not a serial killer with extreme patience. But there seemed to be something they were both hiding, a small snippet of the truth that both were too scared to share. It wasn't until the inevitable concept of having to sleep crept closer and closer that they both glanced back at the only bed around for miles.

"I'll take the couch," Calum nodded, "You were here first so it's only fair."

"But you'll be cold," Maeve mumbled, "The fireplace will only give you so much heat before it dies out in the middle of the night and you wake up frozen."

"Another good reason why you should take the bedroom then," Calum chuckled and shook his head, "I don't mind, really."

"We could just share." Maeve said, surprising herself with the forwardness of her voice, "Body heat and all, you know?"

"Are you sure?" Calum asked, his eyebrow raising as he watched the flush on Maeve's cheeks grow.

"Positive, now come on, I'm exhausted."

They'd each picked their side of the bed, opting to stay as far away from the middle of the mattress as they both could. The sound of a drizzle hitting the roof and windows around them made the quietness of the bedroom a little calmer, both of them too aware of the other in bed to really drift off. But eventually, the drizzle lulled them both, into a warm and quiet sleep. A sleep where Maeve felt the warmth from her dreams and Calum felt the ache of his hike.

The following morning, when both of them woke up in each other’s arms was…awkward to say the least. Calum had woken up first, his arm numb and his brain having trouble catching up to where he was and why he had another body on top of him. The early morning sunlight filtered in through the large window next to the bed, shining a soft light over the entire room. The morning air was still chilly, leaving an ache in Calum’s joints and instinctively making him pull Maeve closer to him. It wasn’t until he heard Maeve stir that he realized exactly what they’d done. As the storm passed, the rain leaving the ground soft and muddy, Maeve and Calum and drifted closer and closer. Acting as the full moon and ocean tide, they ended up in one another’s warmth, starring far apart and gravitating towards each other.

That morning, they’d both spent time apart, walking around the small property where the bridge had left them isolated from everyone else. Calum had spent most of that day outside, his journal tucked safely in the pocket of his rain jacket, walking through the woods and hoping that the next couple of days before their host, whatever her name was, could find a way for them to get back. The first few days were spent like that, both of them stealing glances at the other while trying to distract themselves from the view of the broken bridge, the view of their separation, and the fact that they were both stuck with one another. Mornings were usually spent in silence, both too afraid to move from one another’s arms, trying not to wake the other up. They were spent looking out the window, watching the trees sway and the colored leaves flicker off the branches and onto the river below. Maeve, who had become used to the warmth of Calum’s body next to hers every morning, had spent mornings pretending to be asleep in the hope that Calum wouldn’t pull away from her and leave her cold. Calum, who knew Maeve had woken up minutes before, spent his mornings hoping that she wouldn’t move out of his arms, his face finding comfort in the crook of her neck. Mornings were quiet and hesitant, soft touches that both of them thought about during the rest of the day, hoping to wake up in one another’s arms once again. The nights were a different story. As the sun lowered into the sky, leaving streaks of gold, pink, orange, and red; Calum and Maeve found themselves huddled together. Sometimes Maeve would read out loud, her book telling the history of the clans that used to call the Highlands their home, and sometimes Calum would put on one of the old records that had been left behind in the cabin. Those were Maeve’s favorite nights, Calum’s too, when the music echoed from the walls and the both of them laid under the shared fur blanket, watching the darkness of the sky from their favorite window. It was when the sun went down and the cold settled in that Maeve and Calum got to really know one another.

One night, when dinner had been quiet, both too lost in their own heads to really say much. Their conversation changed, from the usual small talk that had been shared during the day, to something more. The world was teasing them both, the candle-lit dinner they shared one of the first either of them had ever had a candle-lit dinner. Calum liked to think he was a romantic at heart, but he couldn't recall a time where he and his fiancé, well ex-fiancé, would've ever had a dinner like this. Maeve hadn't ever had a date with James like this, not that this was considered a date, but theirs had always ended up with cheap takeout and a studying session. This felt different, it felt calm and the quiet surrounding them never turned awkward or tense. It was comforting.

"So, what's your story?" Calum asked softly, "I mean, I know you said you have an interview with the university but...well, what're you running from?"

Maeve tensed at the question, her eyebrows furrowing as she studied the man in front of her and wondered if he truly could read her like that. Had she been that obvious about wanting to escape her crowded city life? Had everyone she'd encountered known she belonged in the countryside where she was born, never to be able to thrive in a bustling city? Or did Calum, who seemed very much like herself, run away to Scotland too.

"I...I guess I just needed to find myself and I thought that Scotland would be that place for me?" Maeve shrugged, her eyes looking down at the glass of whiskey in front of her, "My parents met in Edinburgh, they road tripped around the entire country together, and fell in love here."

She looked back up at Calum, who watched her intently, his eyes focused on her eyes, watching as Maeve tried to look everywhere but his. With a sigh, and another sip of the bitter whiskey that made her blood warm, Maeve continued on with the story. How her small town had been a bore to her but the second she had left she'd missed it like hell. That no matter how much fun she'd found in the big cities she'd traveled to, nothing made her feel like home. How this was supposed to be a way to get rid of the aching feeling in her chest and that maybe she would find something here in Scotland that the rest of the world hadn't shown her yet. She didn't miss the way Calum's shoulders tensed as she explained the situation with James and how she'd never truly felt love for him.

"And what about you? Why did the university professor run away?" Maeve asked quietly, her eyes finally meeting his across the table.

Maeve listened to Calum, listened as he spilled his heart out over a plate of potatoes and roasted veggies. She listened as his hands fidgeted with the loose string on his sweater and bit her lip as she realized just how alike they were. Soon enough, the rainstorm had slowed into a drizzle and the kitchen was cleaned up. It wasn't too long after that Maeve found herself plopping down on the couch next to Calum, pulling the warm fur blanket over both of their laps as the chill of the autumn night settled in around the house. The unwanted guest had forced both Maeve and Calum into warmer clothes, socks and hoodies peeking out over the edges of the blanket as they watched the flicker of the candlelight bounce on the walls.

"I tried, you know? To make myself love her and to make her love me," Calum sighed and shrugged as he took another sip of the whiskey, "I thought that if I proposed to her, our hearts would figure it out and everything would be fixed."

"And did it?" Maeve asked, her soft eyes finding him in the candlelight, "Did she fall in love with you?"

"Deep down, I knew it would never work." he sighed and frowned as he looked down at his fingers that had been playing with a loose thread on the blanket covering them both, "I'm surprised she hadn't left earlier."

"She's a fool," she mumbled, her knee nudging against Calum's causing both of them to lean into the warmth of it, "You're a great guy."

"You've only known me for three days, you can't possibly know that about me," Calum laughed and shook his head, his eyes gazing out the large window, watching the waves in the river splash against the bedrock.

"And from that, I already know that you're a great guy," she chuckled and shrugged, "You made me breakfast even after I made you get more wood late last night. Which by the way, is totally happening again."

"Yeah? You’re coming with me this time, okay?" Calum teased, knowing that there was no way she'd be stepping out after dark to walk to the shed where all the firewood had been stored.

"In your dreams, Hood."

That night, when the candles had been blown out and the fireplace in the bedroom crackled to keep them both warm, Calum had still been awake when Maeve had scooted back against him. Calum had been up for a while, his brain too awake to even think about sleeping, Maeve’s soft breaths keeping him grounded in the bed. He knew it was a mistake, to even consider that his heart raced a little faster when she was near him, but the past couple of days had taught him a lot. He’d never really believed in coincidences, but his mother had always told him that life had a funny way of showing him what he needed, even if it wasn’t what he’d expected. Maeve was like no one Calum had ever met before. She was so intelligent and well-spoken, she somehow always had something to say in response to Calum. She never seemed to get bored of all the reading or even of the random facts Calum would spew out whenever he remembered something. She was new and refreshing, like the air he’d breathe in every morning after he’d made it out of the cottage.

But Calum was being foolish again, he couldn’t feel anything for the stranger, that’s all she was really, a stranger who’d been booked in the same room as him and now he was stuck with her until someone noticed they’d missed their checkout date. He was stuck feeling his palms sweat whenever she talked with him in that soft voice, the one that gave him goosebumps he was thankful were hidden under his sweaters. He couldn’t have feelings for her because in a few days she’d be in Edinburgh having a life-changing interview and Calum would be on a flight back home, hoping that when his flight landed, he’d stopped regretting walking into the empty house he’d left weeks ago. He’d been so stuck in his brain, trying to stop his feelings for the stranger next to him, that he hadn’t noticed her breath hitting his neck. The soft snores leaving Maeve had made Calum’s thumb on her hip stop it’s up and down stroking, one he hadn’t even noticed he’d been doing, and made him look down at her.

In the darkness of the room, where the only source of light came from the embers of the fireplace gave him only so much to work with, Maeve looked ethereal. Calum’s chest stopped rising, his eyes wide as he watched the small twitches in her nose and eyes as Maeve dreamt. The curls she’d usually push away when she was asleep were falling down onto her eyes, Calum’s hand coming up to push them behind her ear. Maeve’s eyes fluttered open at the touch, leaving Calum frozen in place with his finger on the warmth of her cheek.

“Hey,” she whispered, her sleep-induced haze making her lean into the touch, “Is everything okay?”

“Of course,” Calum breathed out, his lungs finally receiving a new life as the oxygen once again rushed into them, “Go back to sleep, I’ve got you.”

Maeve, whose brain was slowly waking up, blushed at his words. Her eyes moved up to meet his in the darkness, the deep brown of his nearly replaced by his pupils which had dilated. In a moment of courage, where Maeve pushed away any of the warnings telling her to not move her head to the side, she cupped the hand that was on her cheek in hers and pressed a kiss onto the palm of it. Her eyes closed again as she felt the hitch in Calum’s breath, feeling him tense for just a second before he practically melted into her touch. They both laid there, staring at one another in the darkness they’d both used for lingering and greedy touches, their breathing matching as they leaned in closer and closer. The wind had picked up outside, whistling against the window panes, as if even nature outside knew the tension between the two bodies that were in the safety of the loneliness of the forest.

There was a beat of silence, a beat where Calum and Maeve took each other in one last time before their lips connected. In the dark, they found one another, pulling each other closer and closer until Calum could feel the soft noises leaving both him and Maeve against his chest. Her lips were soft, leaving Calum chasing after them for more after she pulled away to catch her breath. He hadn’t waited too long, the electric feeling of her against him back after less than a second. Outside, the window had continued to howl, the forest seemingly cheering for the two as the darkness outside shielded them from the world. The river still flowed beside the house, the water crashing against the large rocks like their lips had moments before. They moved in a flow, much like a river, clothes thrown off and kisses crashing onto unseen skin.

Calum’s hands were hesitant, almost as if he was afraid to touch Maeve, but the soft sigh that left her when his hand finally squeezed the thigh she’d rested over his hip was all he needed to keep going. His body pushed up against hers, his other arm coming up to push her down onto her back, the soft mattress pulling Maeve in like a hug. From where he was, kneeled at her side, Maeve’s breathless and flushed look made Calum want to wake up from such a cruel dream, his jaw going slack as Maeve’s knees dropped onto the bed and Calum slotted himself between her. Calum’s forehead rested against hers, their noses brushing up against one another in a silent plea for whatever it was they had started to be more, his breathing heavy as he felt her knees tighten around his waist and pull him closer. The friction between them had elicited soft groans from them, their lips once again finding each other in the dark as they found a rhythm, one so delicious Calum was sure he was seeing stars behind his closed eyelids.

“Please,” Maeve breathed out, her hands running up and down his chest until she grabbed the hem of the shirt and pulled it up his body, throwing it somewhere into the darkness, “Calum.”

Time slowed in those seconds where all they could focus on was the way their bodies moved together. Maeve was lost in Calum’s kisses, her hand sliding down between them and past the soft hair trailing down onto the boxers he’d been wearing. Calum’s mind was too far gone, his body tensing as he felt Maeve wrap her fingers around him, his hips jerking into the touch as his lips left a trail of kisses down her jaw and neck. Calum’s mind was running with all the things he would do to her, the fear of Maeve somehow knowing all that Calum was imagining overtaking his brain before he felt another wave of pleasure course through him as he felt the flick of Maeve’s wrist on him. Their bodies moved as one, moving through the darkness and racing for that crash that would leave them both seeing nothing but a blinding white behind their eyelids. That crash came eventually, their breathlessness hidden by the howling wind outside. Their bodies fell back onto the mattress as the stones from the very bridge that had forced them together had fallen days before. Through the pants and the mind-numbing pleasure, Maeve and Calum found their way back to one another, soft kisses shared in between whispers which wouldn’t have been distinguished between the sound of the rain falling outside. The droplets hitting the windows as Calum looked down at Maeve, who had been pressing soft kisses onto his chest, tracing over the ink splayed across it. She looked up at him, almost as if to ask what the ink said, the darkness hiding the design of it.

“In the morning,” Calum whispered, kissing her forehead as he felt the softness of her sink into his touch.

Both of them listened to the rain outside, wondering if the morning would bring more touches as the midnight had, or if they’d wake up in silence hoping that the other would speak up first. But Calum would explain the ink on his chest in the morning, would tell Maeve the story behind the words tattooed onto his body for the rest of his life. And Maeve would listen as she stroked the tan skin she’d run her fingernails down only hours before, leaving crescent shapes indented into his skin as a reminder that the pleasure and the ache in between her legs hadn’t been a dream. But that would come in the morning, for now, all they could do was doze off as the rain sang for them once more.

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your--isgayrights · 4 years ago

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not sure if this is what you had in mind but i was thinking maybe kdj and hsy meeting briefly earlier in life (at 20/22 years old or sth)? maybe having a misunderstanding or an argument over something trivial (like interpretation of a book or who should take the last lemon flavored popsicle in the store) and somehow still managing to reach some recognition or understanding of each other. years later they would forget about each other but still remember that bizarre situation sometimes. i have no idea if that makes any sense but i believe in your writing and massive brain and powerful swag. xoxo

Aaaaah, Exe I'm sorry if this isn't exactly what you asked for... I was just like... what if that time Han Sooyoung and Kim Dokja almost met in the epilogue went a little differently and like... haha...

The first part is basically copied and pasted from that chapter before the twist, so go read that first if you haven't!

Han Su-Yeong staggered and walked closer to Kim Dok-Ja. Several passersby brushing past her looked back in suspicion.

Kim Dok-Ja was now walking down the subway’s steps.

Kim Dok-Ja, with earphones stuck in his ears and reading something on his phone while walking downstairs.

She knew what he was currently reading.

“—!!”

She barely managed to shout, but her voice still didn’t come out. So, she desperately chased after him.

Because of the story you wrote, author-nim, I was able to survive until now. Han Su-Yeong was also able to survive while reading the sole reader’s words.

She managed to write the next part of Yu Jung-Hyeok’s life through them.

She was able to endure her boring and stuffy teen years, the days she never wanted to go back to, thanks to those words.

This train is bound for… She spotted Kim Dok-Ja standing on the platform, waiting for the next train to arrive. A person hiding within the small world crafted out of letters to protect himself was standing right there.

Kim Dok-Ja, who didn’t know anything about the apocalypse about to happen.

Kim Dok-Ja, who’d get to live on the expansive world of the ‘Ways of Survival’.

Kim Dok-Ja, who’d get to meet the protagonist he so longed to become.

Kim Dok-Ja, who’d become the ‘Demon King of Salvation’.

Kim Dok-Ja, who’d sacrifice himself multiple times for the sake of his companions, and as a result, came to the 1863rd turn and met her.

Kim Dok-Ja, who was destined to become the ‘Most Ancient Dream’, the price he paid for loving a certain story too much.

[Your mental state is crumbling!]

[The main body’s ego is regaining its control.]

[Your Fable is being extinguished.]

Her legs grew heavy, and her arms didn’t want to move anymore. Her body was gradually becoming not hers.

Even then, Han Su-Yeong wanted to tell him.

⸢To tell him that he was definitely not at fault for this story being born. And to tell him that the things he was about to experience were not his sins.⸥

Because, her past 13 years existed solely to say those words to him.

⸢To say that, though you have grown up while reading this story, there’s no need for you to become it.⸥

She barely managed to muster up her strength, her arm coiling in on itself and preparing for her one last willful action.

[Your ego will convert into the ‘subconsciousness’.]

As she set her weak, pre-scenario body into that final decisive movement...

The twenty six year old Han Su-yeong who knew nothing of the soon to come apocalypse, woke up thrusting her fist forward into the face of some guy on the subway.

She would've thought she was still dreaming, if it hadn't been for the feeling of his soft cheek slamming against the hard bone of his teeth under the force of her balled up hand.

'What the hell? Why am I doing this?'

Han Su-yeong most likely would have asked herself these things if she had any more time to think before her punch had landed.

She got her answer, though. Despite never asking her question, that reason she was looking for became clear as the man staggered off his balance.

He made a futile attempt to right himself before being knocked to the ground. The phone that he had been holding so close to his face clattering screen-side up onto the concrete of the subway floor.

That was when she saw it.

She only had to read a snippet of the words on that phone screen to come up with an explanation for her own actions at that very moment.

[There are three ways to survive in a ruined world. Now, I have forgotten a few, but one thing is certain. The fact that you who are reading this now will survive.

-Three ways to survive in a ruined world

Author’s words: Thank you so much for reading ‘Ways of Survival’ up to here. I will come back to you with an epilogue!]

'Ways of Survival.' 'Three ways to survive in a ruined world.'

...

Yes, there was no doubt that this guy sat on the subway floor rubbing at his cheek deserved it.

Some latent evil of the world must be working to Han Su-yeong's advantage, because none of the commuter passing by spared her a second glance as she sorted out her own motives. They simply dodged around her and the man she had assaulted moments ago.

If Han Su-yeong had to write some train of thought into their actions, she might imagine these negligent bystanders saw something like an overly dramatic lover's spat. Something personal that they ought not get involved in.

Were it not for the pervasiveness of such a cliche recurrent in physical altercations between men and women, maybe they would see it for what it was. A question of honor between authors.

Because Han Su-yeong was certain that was who this man was. An author who was so shitty that he had created an alt to try and hype up his terrible novel.

That was right... It was years ago now, but Han Su-yeong remembered that unsubstantiated accusation of plagiarism on her first published webnovel, SSSSS-grade Infinite Regressor.

This shitty guy had made an alt account that was so obvious... it was something 'Dok-ja,' like he wasn't even trying to pretend he didn't make it just to pretend to 'read' his own webnovel...

If that didn't prove it, then it was also clear from the comments that he had left on every single chapter. When she was reading them, Han Su-yeong had known that if she were such a bad author that she would have to have just one reader, the words that he wrote represented that perfect amount of reader to author engagement that she would have desired.

But that sort of relationship... it was unrealistic. Han Su-yeong had been an author for something like 13 years now, and she had never had such a relationship in her entire career.

So it was obvious that a reader like that could only be written by an author with those same desires that she held.

And then he even had the nerve to wander out of his self contained fantasy, accusing her superior work of plagiarizing his shitty one just to draw in more views and commenters.

So of course he had a lot of nerve to be rereading his own damn author's note right where she could see hi-

"Can I help you?"

Han Su-yeong felt all of the hot air she had been blowing herself up with to justify her current situation deflate upon hearing that voice of his.

The man she'd injured looked up at her with hollow black eyes. Eyes that perhaps had only seemed bright while being illuminated by a screen.

His voice was mild, too. As if getting punched in the face were something that was merely tiresome to him, instead of something to stir anger or indignity. The reactions that Han Su-yeong had been mentally preparing herself to butt heads with.

Nothing about his reaction seemed to ask Han Su-yeong for her motives. There was no race to find an explanation behind those hollow eyes. No bit lip, straining to come up with a turn of phrase to become an appropriately biting retort.

This guy wasn't an author.

...

Hey...

Why had she punched this guy again?

"Sorry." Han Su-yeong found herself saying, as her body deflated, extended arm going back to her side. "From the behind, you looked like my shitty ex."

She let herself fall into the cliche.

"Ah. I see."

Han Su-yeong hated the guy's expression, just then.

It was one that said, 'Well isn't that just my luck?'

But she couldn't help but watch, as this unlucky guy stood up and picked up his phone, brushing it off instead of himself, as if it were more precious to him than his own body.

And when that Dok-ja turned around, Han Su-yeong only saw his back for a second, before the sight of him was once more swallowed up by the uncaring world of the subway station crowd.

#exe i know you're kind of lowkey evil and didn't read the epilogue all the way through and its ok i love you but im coercing you now ok <3 #Parts that are from the original are in italics they're from 535 #orv spoilers #also i know i usually do the names from the Rainbow Turtle translation but I decided to style match for this one #not beta'd #writing #ficlet #han sooyoung #han suyeong #kim dokja #hsy #kdj #orv #omniscient reader #also xoxoxo exe

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secret-rendezvous1d · 4 years ago

Text

“you have no idea what you do to me.”

hi, hello!

this is a part two to my spencer reid imagine ‘you owe me’, which is linked here, which hit well with a lot of people and this part was requested by a few of you who wanted to see where the next part would go. smut isn’t necessarily my strong suit and i deeply apologise for the horrific scenes you are about to read; i’m working on it, i promise. i guess we’ll still have to see where it goes. i tried to make it as good as possible, it probably seems like a fail (which i’d completely agree with), because smut is not my strong suit when it comes to writing and i do try my best but i can’t reassure it’ll always be good but i wanted to get a part out that people wanted and it felt like a good time to post it.

like, reblog and send in some feedback, please. it’s greatly appreciated and it helps me work out what you want to see and what you are after. if you want something specific then do let me know! i’d love to try and write something for you.

thank you. enjoy.

“you have no idea what you do to me” spencer reid x female reader (reader insert imagine) word count; 3.0k

summary; after they were interrupted, yn’s still horny and spencer enjoys teasing her after they arrive in another state for a new case.

As soon as YN stepped foot on the jet, ready for take off that took them off to the next kind of case they were investigating, nerves always managed to fill her stomach.

She wasn’t a nervous flyer; absolutely not, given the number of times the team had to fly to and from state capitals in a month to get to murder scenes and towns hit with sudden attacks from killers where the police chiefs had called with a need for their behavioural analytical help. The nerves that appeared and fluttered round her stomach in the form of butterflies came from the unexpected and the feeling of the unknown. In a meeting before they board the jet, which was held by a brightly spirited Garcia who had no reason to be as energeticas she was so early in the mornings, they were only given small snippets about a crime scene - the typical information like the victims names and whether they were in cahoots with another victim or unrelated to, say the least - and images of the victim in such horrific situations that you really didn't need to imagine anything because it was all there in print, and the name of a potential unsub they were asked to check out by higher authority. That was all. There was no expectations as to what they would see upon their first viewing nor were there any expectations about how they would feel upon arriving at a dump site or the ground someone had died upon.

This time around, she was full of all kinds of emotions. The typical amount of butterfly flutters that she was used to, the strange feeling of excitement for working on a new case that got them chaotically running around and using their brains for the good, a feeling of anticipation because she wanted to be there as quickly as possible so they could solve it as soon as they gathered all of the correct information but, deep down, there was some kind of frustration sitting deep in the bottom of her belly, that had been sat there ever since they stepped foot out of their front door just hours ago, because she couldn’t finish what she had started with Reid before they were called in.

As soon as the pilot had them at cruising level, hitting an altitude where they were then allowed to move about the aircraft, YN had moved from her place opposite Spencer, who had chosen to seat himself at the other end of the plane with his book and his case file set on the table before him, and found her way to the soft comfort of his lap. The blanket, that came with the jet (which she was sure Garcia had knitted because it was such a Penelope thing to do for her colleagues) and have been folded on her lap for the duration of take-off, was know draped over their legs and keeping them warm from the chilly atmosphere of the jet. His leather bag tucked under his chair and out of the way of tripping anyone up, her bag left behind on her seat but she didn’t care who moved it if they wanted to sit down because it wasn’t there to occupy it as hers, his phone was sat on the table beside the brown envelope whilst hers stayed in her bag because she had no reason to be contacted, and they felt like they were in their own world.

“I know we interrupted whatever you two were doing back home but,” Morgan sat opposite the two of them, moving YN’s bag to the floor beneath the table so he could perch down comfortable and lean back, looking at how they were all cosy and cuddled up in the singular chair toward the back end of the private jet with the woven blanket covering their laps, “you reckon you could pop the bubble you’re both in and, you know, include yourselves in the conversation we’re about to have on the case?”

“I didn’t know you were the jealous type, Derek,” YN teased, a laugh leaving her mouth when she saw him roll his eyes and fold his arms over his chest in disbelief, a grin on his face. Her body shuddering and jostling Spencer’s body beneath her as she let out a bellowing laugh, “alright, fine, mister Morgan. I’m going to go and catch up.”

She squeezed Spencer’s knee before she moved and stood to her feet, a little uneasy with the flight path being a rather bumpy one this time around, taking the woven blanket with her and taking the comfort from Spencer. Wrapping it tight around her shoulders, like she was wearing a cape, and letting it drag across the floor behind her as she took scuffed steps down the alley and perched down on the sofa beside Emily.

“You don’t hide it well, you know? Neither of you,” Morgan said, a hint of amusement in his voice as he stayed focused on Spencer’s face whose eyes were locked on the woman who had just left the warmth of his lap, the corners of his lips twitching a smile that he didn’t want anyone to see, adjusting his seated position so he could reach forward and grab the brown envelope holding the case information. Trying to ignore having the conversation, that seemed to hint and fish for details in his personal life that he didn’t wish to share, that Morgan seemingly wanted to have and hold in such a tight confinement. “YN never wears scarves because we’re usually going somewhere warm. And she’d have taken it off by now, and she definitely wouldn’t wear one with a blanket because she gots warm so easily, so she’s definitely hiding something from us. And you, Reid, anyone who isn’t a profiler can see that something happened before we all got called in and we all know what that something was.”

“What?”

Spencer tried to fix his face into a look of curiosity but… he just couldn’t. What was the point in hiding the truth when his friends knew him inside and out?

“You were about to hit home base and Hotch just had to be the cockblock,” he snorted, Spencer’s eyes never lifting from the page he was reading; and, for someone that could read 20,000 words a minute, he sure took a look time to read whatever was written on the page between his fingers. And, as much as he tried to hide the burning in his cheeks by ducking his head down to his chest and using the paper to cover half of his face, Derek could still see the pink hot-flush taking over his face. “I think that blush says I’m right. Play on, playa. Am I right?”

“I didn’t come to work to be profiled, Morgan,” Spencer stated, a stern voice dripping from his tongue but, to Derek, he could hear Spencer’s well hidden sense of humour begging to make an appearance; he’d been sussed so dodging the conversation was all he could try and do and Morgan wasn’t about to let that happen, “I advise you not to profile me because I can profile you ten times better. Now, are you going to fill me in on the case? Where who is going after we land, etcetera, etcetera?”

Derek smirked in accomplishment and pushed himself up from his seat, turning his back on Spencer as he carried on reading over the case file, walking towards the back of the plane to grab himself a bottle of water to quench his thirst and to click the coffee-maker on so everyone could have a coffee to wake themselves up. He squeezed YN’s shoulder on his way passed her and made her shyly look at him and smile; it wasn’t like the chat he had with Spencer was quiet enough not to be heard..

“Hotch is keeping you two separated,” JJ spoke from her seat amongst the seat of four near the middle of the plane, much to Hotch’s dismay because all eyes were now on him as they awaited why he had chosen to separate the two people who worked fairly well together when they were ordered to, surprisingly for them because of the distractions that could possibly keep them from , “you have a hotel room though. You can do all the catching up there, if you get what I mean.”

She wiggled her eyebrows at YN and YN just wanted the floor of the plane to swallow her whole so she could escape the embarrassment.

“We’ll all head to the hotel tonight, we’ll get some sleep, hopefully wake up with fresh heads and then we’ll head to the station before we assign roles on what we do,” Hotch said, reassurance in his voice, and YN was thankful he spoke up before the conversation went down a route she hadn’t planned to be involved with. She glanced at Spencer, who tried to suffice the smirk that was begging to show on his face, and she swore she could have taken strides down the alley of the plane to swipe him across the back of the head. “Phones on though. Anything can happen through the night and we might get called in.”

YN had never felt happier to be between the four walls of a hotel room.

There was something about being on a plane, sitting and sweating in the same seat and barely moving for hours, that made her always want to freshen up at any given chance. And any given chance she would take. Even if it was a tiny airport cubicle, which was one of four in a row and smelt appallingly like they had been cleaned for days, and she had nothing but toilet paper and wipes and sanitiser and a little spritz of deodorant from her handbag to work with, it was still a chance she would take it.

As soon as they’d said their goodbyes to the team and found that they had drawn the short straw on sharing an adjoining room with someone from the team, aggravatingly, they settled in for the night and went about their business like they normally would when staying overnight on a case. Trying to forget that they could be walked in on, at any point, from Rossi who had politely offered to take the room because the looks on everyone’s faces told him they were skeptical after catching hints from the gossiping mouth of Derek Morgan. Spencer disappeared for a quick shower whilst YN hung her blouses up in the wardrobe and paired her flared trousers with the correct top, the same pair of shoes she always wore - white and incredibly tattered Converse boots - left by the door so they were easily found and easy to slip on in a rush.

“Do you reckon Hotch will call to wake us up in the morning or-”

“I assume he’ll want us in the reception lobby by eight so we should probably sleep now,” Spencer claimed, patting the empty side of the bed beside him once she walked out of the en-suite bathroom, after she had finished freshening up and brushing her teeth and had turned the light off behind her. It wasn’t the biggest bed in the world that they had been given, and it made their double bed at home look like a queen-sized bed with the size of it, and YN was sure it was classed as a single room for one person just by the size of the mattress Hotch had expected the two of them to sleep comfortably on. It wouldn’t surprise her, in all honesty, that someone had given a tip to the bossman to give them the smallest room because they need not worry about being cuddled up so tightly together. “Come on. Stop flaunting your naked body around, please. Rossi is next door and I really don’t need him making tomorrow awkward if he walks in and sees breasts pushed in his face.”

“I’m wearing a towel, you goob. And I definitely wouldn’t push my tits in his face,” YN scoffed, hands running up and down the soft material of the towel given with the room, the white cotton bringing out the deep purple bruises around her neck and the red bite marks that still littered around her collarbone from earlier that evening. Something which Spencer felt pretty proud about when he let his eyes linger. “Besides, Rossi’s probably asleep so we can do whatever we want.”

“We can not,” he warned, shaking his head and slipping his glasses from his nose, folding them up and placing them on the bedside table, just like he’d do during his routine at home. Switching the lamp on, which barely added more light to the room, and using the switch adjacent to turn off the main lighting of the room so save having to move when they were comfortably tucked up under the covers. “We can wait till we get home. More privacy.”

YN grinned to herself and used the opportunity to strut across the floor with a swing to her hip movements, the carpet rough beneath the soles of her feet, her mind focused on walking to his side of the bed so he could gain some kind of understanding of what she wanted to happen. Being as seductive and as sexy as possible in an attempt to try anything to get him feeling horny for her. One leg lifted to straddle him, her other coming up and set the other side of his legs, feeling the cotton of his boxers against the insides of her thighs. His hands came to sit on her hips, fingers circling the cotton covering her body, a curious look on his face.

“They never said we couldn’t do it when we were alone,” she reminded him, forearms resting on his shoulders and her fingers sat in the damp hair at the back of his head. He smelt like his soap - a beautiful pinewood smell that always lingered on his skin and left the bathroom with a delicious aroma - and his shampoo and looked so fresh and soft and the curls atop of his head hadn’t quite curled into their typical wisps yet and they hung lowly around the sculpt of his face. “Can we? Since we didn’t get to do it back in Virginia?”

He pulled her closer, lips puckering as he pressed a litter of kisses to her forehead then the bridge of her nose then her left cheek before her right cheek until he landed on her lips, where he lingered and left behind a tingling sensation that had her reeling and begging on the inside for something more than that.

“Don’t,” she whined, eyes closing in frustration and her thighs tensing and holding him in one positon on the bed to keep him from going anywhere, her head rolling back on the ball of her neck with a frown on her face that soon dissipated when she felt his lips graze the base of her neck. Just below her collarbone, where she could feel his warmth breath escape his nose, yet just above her the blossoming curves of her breasts where she wished for his hands to sit. Dry lips dragging across her soft skin, hands holding her hips down upon his own, leaving a string of gentle kisses across her chest. “Spence-”

“Like that?” He hummed, his damp hair tickling at the underside of her chin, his head nestling into the space at the base of her neck, pecking and nibbling at the skin below her ear, “tell me you like that.”

“I like it,” she whispered, gently holding fistfuls of his hair in her hands and pulling his head away from her neck so she was able to look him in the eyes, a dark look behind his coloured orbs that had her tingling between the legs, “I love it, Spence.”

He smirked.

“That’s enough then,” she heard him say, her mind spinning, “come on, early start tomorrow.”

“No..”

“Yeah,” he grabbed her by the waist and rolled them onto their sides, her body colliding with the mattress and the springs coiled up before re-coiling loudly, a gentle ‘oof’ escaping her as she hit the bed and came free from his body which had now switched positions. Arms bracing his weight and hands pushed into the pillow behind her head, legs straddling her own as she laid flat beneath him, eyes focused on her. “Bedtime, now.”

“You can’t have me feeling like this and then end it,” she pouted, hands snaking up his chest and back to his shoulders, palms flat against the back of his head as she pulled his face a little closer to hers, “baby, please.”

“Think I might save it, go all out with you when we get back home,” he pondered, more to himself than for her to actually hear him but her heart skipped a beat, “yeah, I think I might just warm you up, get you ready, till we get home.”

“You wouldn’t,” she whispered, a hint of seduction in her words, lips touching his with every word she enunciated, “you would.”

He laughed maniacally and nudged his nose against hers; “you have no idea what you do to me.”

“You have no idea what you do to me,” she retorted, bringing a bent knee up to knee him up the bum in annoyance, “I hate you sometimes.”

“Rubbish. You love me so damn much,” he said, pressing one last kiss to her lips before he rolled back to his side of the bed and stretched out beside her, face turned in her direction, “besides, I’d much rather have our own room and not an adjoining one and I’d rather have the neighbours hear us rather than Rossi. Less awkwardness at work, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she grumbled, rolling her eyes playfully, “goodnight, you annoying human being.”

“Goodnight, you equally annoying human being.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid x reader insert imagines #spencer reid x yn imagines #spencer reid x female insert imagines #spencer reid fics #spencer reid x reader insert fics #spencer reid x yn fics #spencer reid x female insert fics #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler imagines #matthew gray gubler x reader insert imagines #matthew gray gubler x yn imagines #matthew gray gubler x female insert imagines #matthew gray gubler fics #matthew gray gubler x reader inserts fics

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awellboiledicicle · 3 years ago

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I fear posting lil wip snips has wildly misrepresented how my writing process works.

Because my first drafts are often wildly different from final, but also wildly shorter and sillier.

Ending the snippet with someone saying something isnt good or going 'welp' is basically shorthand for "theres only a lull here because I'm sleepy and I dont wanna write more rn but I'm typing on my phone and if I don't hit post it might be lost in drafts'.

Or like. I worry that ppl take my talking about Echo being blunt/having communication errors with the twins and like.. assume I'm saying shes dumb, or that I'm not considering that shes a solo woman rolling up on two men she doesnt know and that would be Dangerous.

Which is weird because shes the only oc I have that is just.. i dont want to write her being afraid of them. I want her to be friends, and I dont want to think about my personal anxiety that situation would cause. Paranoia is my thing? So o thought about it and said no.

Also because I think it's more interesting that this character, whose whole thing is finding Utopia/her family/a place to live on dry land, finds two people who are sort of lost in their own ways right then. And accepts them.

Emmet starts out hyper focused in on having Ingo back, but doesnt know how to really cope with the fact his brother doesnt have the same instant familiarity. He doesnt know how to process that Ingo is several years older than him, technically, now. He doesnt know how to process that Ingo didnt seem the same level of 'drop everything and go' when he came to get him. Hes still processing that Ingo is and is not the same man who went missing. Hes not accepting very well that he missed so much of his brothers life and as far as he knows, Ingo didnt even know he existed most of it. He doesnt know if Ingo missed him. He doesnt know if, should he never have gone, Ingo wouldn't have even been that bothered in Hisui. Then, they're somewhere ELSE that isnt home and once more Ingo isnt really phased. And that's good! Keeping calm is good! But he doesnt know Ingo worked on not talking as much/just didnt while in Hisui. He doesnt know the lower volume of voice and words isnt ingo being mad. Hes happy. Hes sad. Hes mourning the brother he thought he was saving. Hes celebrating the brother he has back. Hes dismayed. Hes confident they'll figure it out. Hes afraid they wont.

Ingo loves his little brother, always, full stop. His memory is still foggy at the edges, but he remembers the broad strokes. He remembers he SHOULD match Emmet. He remembers their home, their pokemon, their family, their friends. He remembers the subway as a whole, and the city. A million things, but memory is a living fabric made from a trillion threads. A million feels like nothing. It feels like everything. He knows his brother was disappointed by his delays while he settled things. But he had responsibilities and relationships. He had a home. He would, of course, leave it many times to go home with Emmet. Always. But it was hard. It was all hard. It was hard restarting AGAIN, from nothing, once they realize the island is truly isolated and then they're rescued. It's hard leaving things, expecting a thing you sort of remembered, and getting something new. It's hard being so scared that the sneasle he was entrusted with might come to harm. Hard seeing his brother try badly to pretend hes not anxious. To be why his brother is anxious. And harder still not to have a purpose waiting. Unova, he could relearn his job. Hisui, could have kept being a warden. Here? A world where things have gone terribly, terribly wrong? Where the encouragement is "Come with me, and live." Its hard. And he doesnt know how to describe that OR how odd it feels to be so far from Emmet in appearance. In how they view things, now. He remembers they usually agreed, but that might have changed. People changed all the time. He worries Emmet came back for him in the way he fought his brain to come back to the identity of the smiling man-- chasing what used to be. He worries Emmet is disappointed by the brother he found.

Meanwhile Echo is less than three months out from barely surviving a hurricane that ripped her home apart. Moving along as a scout because the other option is to lose hope. She has to find Utopia, or someplace dry and sustainable, or she is convinced she'll never see her family again. Shes scared she might never see them again anyway. She is alone, excepting the chickens and llama. She was never alone before. She does not want to be alone again. And so she sails for anything like life. Any note, hint, signal. Any two dipshits stranded on an island.

I'm just. I have PLANS and I'm worried ppl think I'm only thinking as deep as the scribbles

#seafaring au

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nightswithkookmin · 5 years ago

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JIKOOK AND THEIR SHENANIGANS-pt1

Disclaimer:

This is my opinion and perspective of Jikook. I do not intend nor imply malice by my choice of words or by my interpretations of BTS' contents. Nor do I intend to be disrespectful of any member herein mentioned.

Do not take my words out of context in furtherance of your own agenda. You are the author of your own intentions and interpretations. If you do hold yourself accountable first.

PREFACE

I am done with with Jikook. Lol

I swear to God by the time they officially come out as a couple, if they ever do, I'm going to be left with severe PTSD.

Pray for me.

A lot has happened with Jikook these past few weeks. A devastating lot. Everything was going great and smooth and boom- we were hit with yet another anomaly in their dynamics. It was usual given us most of the things that had happened were entirely new to their dynamics yet not at all surprising in the grand scheme of things simply because unpredictability is Jikook's schtik and as I've come to terms with, part of their dynamics- you'll get used to it if you are new. Welcome to the club. Lol

I have shared snippets of my thoughts here and there on this whole development as and when it unfolded and said I wasn't going to deliver a comprehensive commentary until later so here it is- grab a glass of wine or coffee. It's gonna be long. Bless.

WHY I WAS HOLDING BACK

Contrary to what some people say and assume about me, I don't pull my opinions on Jikook from my ass- a dollar to the jar. Lol. I don't base my perspective on Jikook's relationship and dynamics on puff and nada. Where is the fun in that? I may be delusional about somethings but... Anywho.

I have said time and again how when it comes to Jikook moments there's always context and subtexts we are missing- it's a challenge trying to fill in the gaps. Probably part of the reason I'm obsessed with their dynamics. Lol.

Most of the theories I share with you on here are based on my observations of Jikooks interactions over a period of time. My objective has always been to try and understand the motivations (context) behind their moments and interactions, some of which I find fit a pattern while others- I never want to tackle or even think about without several pain killers and depressants until years later when a piece of content is released to provide better insights into their dynamics.

Jimin's birthday is one such moment for me. While I understood and even predicted JM's use of 5/8 in May this year was going to be a substitute for May 13 because I felt Jikook were not in a good place, were under heavy scrutiny in SK within that time period- starting with that March 30th VLive which I believe had led to a ban on Jikook using the platform on their own(especially Jimin- JK was already under ban but we will get into it later) given as BTS's content had changed drastically with heavy VLive supervision and the pg 13 contents they were made to make post that JM's VLive; then there was rumors of Dispatch's alleged conflict with BigHit, BigHit's IPO, Jungkook's Itaewon scandal- which of course were all confirmed later on that month, I felt the prospect wasn't looking good for Jikook to Jikook as wildly and as openly as they did.

Now you all know about my wild assumption about JM taking space out of their relationship due to JK coming on strong around that time so I'll spare the details.

Contrastingly, post BigHit's IPO, post Soop since Stay Gold era I felt things were looking great for Jikook. They were back to Jikooking. I felt they weren't being monitored as much by their bandmates and had a new found freedom within BigHit to do their own things as it appeared BigHit had begun 'managing' and presenting them as a brand- which I have written dissertations upon dissertations on so I won't get into.

JK and JM had started their online flirty banter thingy, even Dispatch seemed good with Bighit posting BTS official photos etc. Jimin too posted for JK on his birthday, JK came out on social media to gear up for JM's birthday and then puff- ashes. We hit a wall.

Now I know some people are speculating there was too much attention on Jikook within this time frame which is why JK didn't post- uhhmm, I don't buy it that view. There's always attention on Jikook. It's usually the negative attention like around March-June that holds them back from Jikooking. In opinion. I wouldn't call the attention they are or were getting within that time period negative.

Then there were some who speculated JK wasn't going to post because he hadn't posted for any of the members since Jin's birthday last year which again I didn't buy into. Jk is fearless and doesn't shy aware from making bold expressions of his love for Jimin. Him posting for Jimin would have been a bold move but nothing exactly new.

We've seen his GCFs. Enough said.

Personally, I felt he had showed up on social media a few days to JM's birthday to promote his music but to also prepare the grounds for when he posts on Jimin's birthday.

I genuinely felt he was gonna 'out' Jimin with that post and have people raising all kinds of brows like they did with GCF Tokyo, Saipan and Helsinki. Lol

Why did I think he was going to do this?

DECEMBER 4TH 2019

Jin's birthday. Now I have given y'all the back ground to this timeline and so I will just hit the highlights- Rosebowl, New Jersey VLive, JK getting drunk on his Jun VLive which I felt led to a ban on him from making solo live on VApp since 2019 to date- his recent Solo live was on YouTube mind you.

Prior to this I felt he and JM had earned a ban from making a VLive together until their 2020 VLive which was heavily monitored as I have speculated in past posts- again this is just my opinion.

JK, I felt, was being 'reckless' within this period. He was making bold moves and pushing the boundaries of his relationship with Jimin and even teasing the gates of the glass closet they are in. It certainly didn't help that the You too movement in S.K and the whole Idol sex abuse scandals in Kpop was on going as I've mentioned before-which had led to August's issues. Again you know my theory on the whole tattoo girl scandal so skipping.

October we had the whole cancel Jikook hashtag trending after Jikook's performance of I still want you and the whole you are me, I am you schtick.

In all of this I felt Jikook were fine.

November is when I noticed Jikook having 'issues' in their relationship (rolling my eyes at Silver) lol. Now again I won't go into all of that but you can check the real time contents/ behind scenes content on BTS around the time period and draw your own conclusions on that.

Then came the December ups and downs, JM flinching and dropping his face when JK went to sit by him in Jin's VLive- JK's awkwardness around Jimim. Now I know some people interpret this Live as that they were fighting? I won't call it fight fight perse. Lol. Issues, perhaps?Just seemed to me JM wanted to keep a low profile because again they were under heavy public scrutiny around the time which was what I feel was causing RM to keep an eye on them throughout that period- by keeping an eye on them I mean he was invoking the spirit of Jesus between them Pentecostal style. Bless him.

But seems JK wasn't having none of that, clearly. Lmho. There were already alot of restrictions on him since June in the way he used social media(Vapp) he and JM were not allowed to VLive together, he couldn't solo Vlive no more and now he couldn't even sit right with his man- I approve of the frying pans Jk. I APPROVE. Lol.

All this is my opinion of course.

But I think that is what he meant when he kept saying it's been a while he did a solo live and didn't even know how to do one anymore in his recent YouTube live- Jk can be passive aggressive in that way but we will get into that YouTube live in a bit. Hang in there.

So with all this going on I felt I understood him when he missed Jin's birthday on Twitter. Felt like a silent protest to me. But then again I thought perhaps it was just an impulsive act on his part.

Then he missed Tae's Birthday too and I thought hold on- this man is up to something. He was gonna a statement with that in retaliation to all the ban and sanctions and interferences with his personal life.

I was just following this whole drama with anxious glee towards a big reveal and then- cricket's ass ass deadass. Chilee. This man is cruel! Lol. I'm gonna need therapy to process this one on god! Lol JK!

My Right brain said perhaps, others had been right after all and he hadn't done all of that missed birthdays on purpose at all but had only acted impulsively in the heat of the moment given everything that had been going on with the group in around Jin's birthday- Mama 2019, we all know what had happened.

I felt perhaps, the moment he missed Jin's then he had to miss everyone's because if he wished any other person a happy birthday people were going to ask questions. People were going to assume he hated whoever he didn't wish a happy birthday.

But then my left brain- the crazy delulu side, also thought otherwise. I had a funny feeling that JK really intended to post only for Jimin on his birthday since he had been gearing up for it and that the only reason he wouldn't go through with it was if JM had asked him not to.

Why would JM do that? Because he enjoys the glass closet- he loves to flex his bond with JK, tease their relationship, claim his man, he wants people to know JK is his man because he is happy with him and proud of the man that he is but that doesn't mean he is ready to come out as LGBTQ plus. In my opinion.

JK I feel was done hiding the moment he posted GCF in Saipan- he gets right with us. Bless him.

JK often weaponizes their 'secret' against Jimin and hold's it over his head sometimes- so often when Jimin is on his Kumbaya agenda with the group taking their sides on things relating to their relationship JK switches on him and tries to expose Jimin- if you're just gonna help them burn us, I'm just gonna blow the whole operation out in the open and we are all going down. Chilee!

God, I felt Jk was going to expose Jikook for real! 🤣 Don't mess with JK and his Jimin- even Jimin himself gets burns sometimes.

Remember when JK threatened to expose a picture of himself with a hickey if JM didn't stay and do a VLive with him? Remember that? JK scares me for real when he is on his Jikook agenda! Lol

I felt he knew exactly what he was doing just as he knew exactly what he was doing with Saipan and editing of Helsinki. He just reiterated it in his recent live- which we will get into soon. He pointed out how he had gone to ask the members to describe the feelings they wanted to express through the MV he directed.

He admitted yet again in that live how he expresses his feelings, HIS FEELINGS, through his art and music- for all those who keep saying you can't tell JK loves JM just because he doesn't do the things JM does. Lmho.

And so I was heavily confused by these two conflicting theories in my brain. Which is why I kept saying I didn't want to jump into conclusions, that I was going to need more content yadda yadda yadda.

Which brings me to my resolution for JM's birthday saga.

POST JIMIN'S BIRTHDAY

Jimin enjoys been treated special. It's part of his love language. Jk has always treated him like he is special to him. And I know people claim it's just a birthday post- sure. But I understand also that Jimin doesn't Joke with his birthday. His father doesn't Joke with his birthday and clearly neither does JK- given as even before they all started the exchanging of gifts culture that he was giving presents to JM and JM alone within the group.

Besides, he's said he reads the members birthday messages to him on social media and have gone ahead to read some of them on his birthday Vlives in the past. So I can't say JK not posting was nothing.

My resolution was simple. I was going to examine their interactions post Jimin's birthday to see if their dynamics had flipped to see if JK not posting for JM's birthday had in anyway affected their relationship.

If JM's birthday meant something to him. Jk was going to make it up to him- openly. Deadass but in my opinion. Lol.

That's one aspect of Jikook's dynamics you can always count on- hopefully. Lol.

They have a way of reassuring eachother of their love and affection. And I don't know what happened to put the fear of God in both of them but lord are they both scared of pissing the other off! Jesus! Not sure if it's the whippery but damn- they are both crazy for that.

For instance, take JinMin's VLive right before the New Jersey Vlive. JM posted immediately after their live had ended to say he is sorry and loves JK on Twitter. And y'all saw him when JK panned to him on the bed? I've never seen a man so terrified of another man in my entire shipping life- Manila must have put the fear of JK in him, which THANK GOD! lol. Jimin plays too much. Lmho.

Never knew a hyung needed permission from a dongsaeng to leave a room until that day. Chileee! Jin had pulled a prank on JK too but I didn't see him wetting his pants and blowing kithes to JK- come at me with Jinkook is real, see what happens. Lol

Then GCF in Tokyo! I know to some it seemed like a random act of confession on JK's part but boy did he have motivation! He don stressed JM out to the ends of the world with those weird ass rumors (again not gonna mention it because it's very controversial 'saesangs' nature) if you know good for you but chilee you didn't hear it here. Lol

Then there was that whole photoshoot and JM looking like he wanted to kill JK lol right around August 2017. Which I have discussed in one of my blog posts. I think it's in a lot of jeonlous. I'll link it later- if I find it.

Then the almighty 2019 Tattoo Girl scandal, I'm not talking about the August scandal. I'm talking about the one on JM's birthday last year which launched the severe 'I am sorry' hashtags in JK's post on JM's birthday. In my opinion definitely.

The Tattoo girl's shop had wanted until Jimin's birthday, almost a month after the incident, to release a statement which blew up the incident again and almost overshadowed JM's birthday.

Chilee, the delulu in me felt that was intentional. They just wanted to hurt JK by ruining his man's birthday for him- never let him forget. Lol. These evil masterminds. Chilee!

In my opinion. Please.

My point is, JM and JK do make out in efforts to fix their relationship. And usually, I find whoever is in the wrong takes the most initiatives- not to say all the GCFs was because of a fight. Personally I take Saipan and Helsinki more seriously than Tokyo. Just saying.

And of course we all saw JM fly all the way from Paris on JK's birthday- talk of grand gestures and extending Olive branches. Chilee, I'm single!

I was going to wait till I could see who was reassuring who after JM's birthday to see who was in the 'wrong' know what I mean? Like who is putting in more effort to let us know they are a thing?

After their March/May shenanigans that was JK with the thirst traps and shit on Weverse, which brought JM around and he started opening up taking initiatives of his own like in the Dynamite MV reaction VLive.

Afterwards it all seemed pretty mutual to me and they were vibing. Jikook was a Vibe. Sigh.

THE PHOTOSHOOT SAGA

Now I know some people assert they don't see the 'tensions' in that behind the scenes photoshoot but we would have to agree to disagree on that because I saw that as tension between Jikook as I explained in my last post.

Jk walked right past and around Jimin without a word- chileee. JM was 'extroverted' with everyone but Jk- chilee chileee. This is weird as fuck. Lmho.

Prior to this shoot I had my eyes on Tae, RM Jk due to the Twitter war that I felt was going on between them in the days leading up to the concert. If they had anything to do with JK not posting on JM's birthday it was gonna leave trails.

Jk loves everyone but fuck with his relationship with his man and you're- poor Namjoon. Lol.

I refrained from discussing the photoshoot video or conceptualizing a theory around it because for the love of me I couldn't tell who was mad at who in that footage.

They all seemed equally mad to me. Jk had his usual don't fuck with my man mood on with that glare he gave RM causing RM to back away from JM and that attitude he gave Jin right after- which I have already speculated on in my last post.

The stare down contest between him and JM was equally nerve wracking and reminded me of that interview stare down contest between Jikook around Manila.

And I know I mentioned the 'elite' squad backing up Jimin in that moment. Chilee, I was too tired to explain that term because I had been writing for a whole day nonstop but that is the term I give to RM, Hobi, Jin as the hyungs/ elders who enable JM's shenanigans most often in the group.

JK usually pans them down when he and JM are going at it.

I feel Tae, JK, Suga are the ones that stay on JM's neck and calls his bull the most out of all the boys- Y'all don't wanna know what I call them. Lol. Perhaps, I should call them Silver? Chilee, girl don stayed my neck, put the fear of Moses in me! Lol

It felt as if, whatever the problem was, they both had an interest at stake in that moment in my opinion and they were battling it out. Besides, 5 days had gone by and for the love of me I had no idea why that mood was still persisting especially if it had anything to do with Jimin's birthday.

But I understand JM had been away with his family after the concert and had spent his birthday with his family so perhaps they couldn't resolve things within that time period. And JK it seemed had also thrown himself into work from what he said on his YouTube Live, filming and directing and shit- good for him. JM's wedding suit won't buy itself. Lol

So now the Jikook Solo lives.

JIKOOK SOLO LIVES

Now y'all know I was waiting for this one. I told y'all I was waiting to see how BTS interacted with the VApp post Soop. Y'all know my conspiracy theory on this- the whole Jikook were banned from using it, JK was banned after his last VLive in June last year and how JM was banned in March this year after JK intercepted Jin's call and asked him on a date and said the whole I love you kithes thingy- they are trouble.

Then I talked about how JK had been trying to rebel in retaliation, the whole team up with Tae to expose BigHit on Weverse after their live.

I don't think much has changed in that regard. He still didn't do his Live on the VApp and through out his YouTube live he kept hinting at how BigHit had sabotaged his passion- he claimed he had lost his passion for GCF( at least that's how I took it) and that GCF felt more like work than something he did out of passion.

He threw jabs here and there at BigHit complaining about how he didn't even know how to do them Live logs anymore because it had been a while he did them- the lies Jeon Jungkook ne spilling! You was on a live with RM not too long ago what do you mean it's been long! *smirk.

Jimin did the same thing too but in a more subtle way I feel. He kept saying how he didn't know his way around the app, how the staff had set it up for him and JK said the same thing-but more aggressively. Lol.

It seems JK was just going to turn on the Live, keep it business and yeet himself out of there- just like people want him to do(to be professional and not expose his relationship- chileee, JK is that too much to ask? Sigh.

JK is really passive aggressive like the Silver Squad- see what I did there? Lol. Tae and Suga have taught him well. It's that control thingy, I feel. He hates it. He hates when he is controlled by anyone- except Jimin apparently.

He really enjoys and wants the freedom to do what he wants- rather dead than cool. Chilee! It's how he was raised I believe. He is a very independent free spirited individual, I keep saying.

All that, "it's awkward' 'it's been awhile I did this' yea he ain't slick. *smirk.

Another interesting thing I noticed is how both him and JM tried to keep the other's name out of their mouths- well Jimin tried. Dude couldn't help himself bless him.

I just think they have been cautioned to keep a really low profile on the app especially in regards to how they use the app, what they share on the app- no eye fucking, no weird tensions staring into eachother's souls, no I love you's in the background and certainly NO BONERS!

All in all, my impression of those two Lives was that- Jimin had baited BigHit when he posted that 'see you soon on VApp.' In my opinion.

I think he did that to force BigHit's hands. Jk did the same with his 'I can't do live logs on my own now' statement.

Jimin had put BigHit in a tight corner when he read that 'I miss Jungkook' comment. And the way he kept it pushing afterwards- the next day BigHit was like, y'all this is Simba. Hair slicked back and all. Take him. Lol.

I keep saying the one thing BigHit is scared of is a scandal. They really don't want people asking certain questions that's going to make them look bad especially towards their artists- in my opinion. BigHit please it's my opinion. Let the records show. Lol.

And as I keep saying, BTS and even Jikook have a way of weaponizing their social media Influence against BigHit- that nearly 9 million viewers Jimin read out on his VLive certainly gave BigHit a push to call out JK. Lol.

Personally, I was curious as I said earlier as to how that VLive was going to be live. Whether it was going to be monitored heavily like their lives were after the March 30th incident.

I was curious to see if he would appear on YouTube or VApp. As it stands, it seems whatever ban was placed on JM from having Solo Lives on the App has been lifted

And it seems he was fighting for his man too in the most kumbaya way possible- Jimin! Lolololol. He is hilarious. Bless him

I just hope JK doesn't call in on JM's future VLives again to ask him on a date- again cos damn that would chaotic. Lol.

It's crazy to me how people still look at JK and ask if he loves JM at all- damn if he isn't carrying their relationship on his back!

It seems for now he still isn't allowed a solo VLive on the App and from the Way he kept saying he couldn't do a log alone it seems he is pushing to have that freedom to have a VLive with JM again- I don't know. I might be delulu. Lol

As to whether JK was the wrong party for not posting on JM's birthday I still don't know. Would have to observe their interactions a bit more.

So far from their lives the only one who was making efforts to feed us was Jimin with the whole 10/13 Mickey Mouse thingy which we all know is reference to Jikook.

If my hypothesis is right, JM would be coming out here with heart eyes, clinging to JK, making all the efforts while JK has the mood he had during the On era again- acting like he not whipped but he whipped- bless him.

Sigh.

All that being said, this is just my opinion. I'm just sharing my thoughts and observations. I am not calling anyone to action. I am not instructing anyone on what to do with my opinion, to hate on BigHit, or any of the members mentioned in here.

If you are not an adult, and can't reason like an adult do not sit at the adult table. Immaturity is not a bar to freedom of expression.

CONCLUSION

When it comes to Jikook, I always feel JK has put in so much effort into his relationship with Jimin to squander all that effort over something as silly as a birthday post.

Jikook have both worked through a lot, come a long way in their love journey to let petty issues undo all the efforts they've both put into eachother.

If JM's birthday is an issue for JM, JK would have made it right by now. All it takes it one simple post to fix it. And he has taken much bolder steps in the past to chicken out now.

And if Jimin is the one holding JK then- dude better prepare another Paris trip to placate his man because JK about to pout him to death. Lol.

As I said I have a feeling things are good between them now. I just want to see more of their interactions.

Keep supporting Jikook.

Signed,

GOLDY

#jikook #jikook analysis #kookmin analysis #jikooktheories #kookmintheories #kookmin #jikook scenarios #jikook is real #goldy blogs #goldy theories #goldy analysis #nightswithkookmin #support Jikook #goldy #bts Jimin #bts Jungkook #bts ships

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bardicindignation · 4 years ago

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April Fool's Day Fic Snippet

In honor of April fools, I offer unto y'all an extremely cracky scene from a Star Wars fix-it au that I may or may not eventually get around to actually writing.

For context: Anakin started coming back to the light just a few years after the rise of the Empire and has, along with Cody and another person, been leading an undercover rebellion against the empire. Their general modus operandi for finding jedi is to a. let them go if they can without arousing suspicion, b. fake a pirate attack while in transit to let them escape, or c. fake their deaths.

They've just reported the death of Quinlan Vos when this starts.

(Also, if this looks at all familiar, it's because it was inspired by this fic by cosmicocean on ao3.)

Fuck fuck kriffing-bantha-nerf-herding-motherfucking-hutts.

Anakin...might have been panicking. Just a bit.

He’d prepared for a lot, but Moff karking-son-of-a-bantha Tarkin sweeping unannounced onto his kriffing bridge while he was in the midst of informing a jedi that he was supposed to have already killed that he, you know, wasn’t going to be killed. Or tortured. Or used as bait for other jedi.

(‘In the midst of’ was an exaggeration. ‘About to’ was more accurate.)

And said jedi was standing in full fucking view of the entire fucking bridge because the bridge was supposed to be full of people he trusted and not Wilhulf fucking Tarkin and HOW HAD THIS HAPPENED???

Tarkin looked at Anakin, at a very much alive and entirely unrestrained Quinlan Vos (thank the Force Anakin hadn’t returned the man’s lightsabre yet), at Cody, Appo, and the others (frozen and also panicking under their blank stormtrooper armor), at the bridge crew (Captain Piett was going to start hyperventilating any moment now), and back to Anakin.

“I’m sure,” he said smoothly, an insufferably smug smirk playing at the corner of his mouth, “that you have a very good explanation as to why you have not executed the jedi scum as reported, Lord Vader. I’m sure the Emperor would love to hear it.”

So. Anakin was panicking, reminding himself that, as insufferably horrible as he was, Tarkin was one of the few men he couldn’t get away with killing without a good reason and, had he mentioned, panicking. So. Much. Panic. So he really couldn’t be blamed when all higher brain function fled, and what came out of his mouth was,

“What jedi scum?”

Kriff, kriff, kriff. He could feel Cody judging him from across the room.

Tarkin spluttered.

“What jedi scum?! The-the one standing right there beside you!”

Fuuuuuuck.

“I see no jedi.” Anakin told him.

So. Much. Judgement.

Tarkin lost his temper.

“THE JEDI TRAITOR QUINLAN VOS IS STANDING DIRECTLY TO YOUR RIGHT! HE IS HOLDING A TEA CUP!”

Mmhm. Yep. Okay, here he went, one Anakin Skywalker BS special, coming right up.

“This is not the jedi traitor Quinlan Vos.”

“What?” said Tarkin, eyebrows shooting up.

“What?” said definitely-jedi Quinlan Vos at the same time, though thankfully Tarkin hadn’t seemed to hear him.

Anakin groaned inwardly, drew himself up to Darth Vader’s impressive height and loomed.

“This,” he repeated impatiently, “is not Quinlan Vos, nor is he a jedi. This is…” Anakin frantically scoured his brain for a name and plausible explanation, “Informant Sergei.”

Complete silence fell. Anakin heard Cody cough slightly. If Captain Piett wasn’t careful, his eyes were going to pop out of his head. Vos was staring at him. He was pretty sure that Aphra (and when had she gotten here?) had started to film.

“Informant Sergei.” Tarkin said flatly.

Anakin loomed more aggressively. He was committed now. This was what he was going with and so help him, he was going to make this padawan-framing bastard believe it.

“Did you not hear me the first time?” he asked scathingly, channeling his master at his most irritated, and went on without waiting for an answer. “Informant Sergei has been working with me since the Clone Wars, and has stayed loyal to our cause throughout. His resemblance to his cousin Quinlan Vos has been a boon in gathering intelligence from those more...sympathetic to the old Order and was instrumental in leading Vos to his demise.”

There. He could work with that. Now, he just had to (somehow) get Tarkin to buy it. Which, going by the look on his face, hadn’t happened.

That was okay. Anakin hadn’t had the chance to bullshit someone this thoroughly since the Clone Wars; he had backlog.

The ball was in Tarkin’s court now. Immediately, he turned on Vos.

“What’s your name and what are you doing here?” he demanded sharply.

Vos glanced at Anakin, who was panicking again, then back to Tarkin. A lazy smile spread across his face.

“I’m Sergei Vos, that bastard Quinlan’s cousin on our dad’s side. I’m here to collect my reward for aiding in his capture.”

Anakin held back a sigh of relief, and his sense of Cody and the men relaxed fractionally. Vos hadn’t been one of the best undercover jedi for nothing, even Obi-Wan would’ve had a hard time beating that poker face.

Tarkin wasn’t done yet.

“Trooper! Have you worked with this Informant Sergei,” said, of course, in tones of deep disgust, “on previous assignments?”

Cody, bless him, didn’t miss a beat.

“Infromant Sergei has been a fine asset to the Empire.”

Anakin was going to have to get him something good the next time they went planet side. And it didn’t stop there.

“He’s a killer sabacc player,” Aphra chimed in, still filming.

“If you get them in good light, you can tell the difference pretty easily.” Lieutenant Needa, fresh out of the academy.

“Vos had a scar on his arm where Sergei bit him when they were young.” Grey.

“I lost my virginity to Informant Sergei.”

It took every ounce of willpower Anakin had not to turn and stare at Piett in utter disbelief. What the fuck was that?

...Vos winked lasciviously in Piett’s direction.

“And what a night it was.”

Okay. Whatever. Anakin had started this, he’d bear the consequences.

Tarkin looked nonplussed, but less certain of himself. Time to drive it home.

“If,” he said forbiddingly, “you are quite finished interrogating my staff, Grand Moff Tarkin.”

Tarkin glared at him.

“I expect Informant Sergei’s information to have arrived at my desk when I reach it.”

“Of course.”

“And if I find out that any of it is inaccurate…”

“You will not.”

One last incredulous look around the bridge later, Tarkin was striding out as abruptly as he came.

#my fanfic #star wars #anakin skywalker #wilhuff tarkin #quinlan vos #april fools day #yes #this is utterly ridiculous #but i made myself laugh when I wrote it #which is the important bit really lol #hope y'all enjoy it!!#informant sergei au

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narukoibito · 5 years ago

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Can you tell us more about library story ?

Of course @theroomofreq :)

Ahhh, sooo, I found this prompt ages ago and my brain really lit up: You left your phone number in the library book I just borrowed au.

Now, I had all sorts of fancy designs of a Muggle AU/college AU where Harry finds a used copy of Pride and Prejudice with brilliant, witty margins. As he reads more and more, he finds himself falling hard for the mysterious margin writer, only to discover this person’s number. But he doesn’t know that the person he’s been slowly falling for is in fact his best mate’s annoying little sister, whom he has had a fierce sports rivalry since he first went over to Ron’s house and got creamed against her. It’s a play on pride and prejudice, enemies/rivals to lovers.

Only problem? I’ve never finished reading Pride and Prejudice.

So, er, I got majorly stuck because I’d have to not only read the book, but then come up with witty margins for Ginny, and it seemed too big of a hurdle to overcome.

But hey, if someone wants to write this and/or write all the P&P parts in a collab, let me know! If not, I’m not sure this story will ever see the light of day.

Here’s a snippet:

“Harry!” A hand waved in the air, which he immediately recognized as Hermione’s after years of seeing it shoot up during class. He maneuvered through the crowd to their booth, sliding into the booth across from her and Ron cheerfully.

“I’m glad you got a spot! I was worried we might have to find another place.” Harry dropped his pile of books onto the table unceremoniously, taking the pint that Ron had ordered for him gratefully.

Hermione huffed disapprovingly, eyeing his booty. “You really should have taken care of that sooner, Harry.”

“I got what I needed.” He and Ron tapped their glasses before downing a measure of his drink.

“Oi!” Ron suddenly bellowed, nearly causing some of Harry’s drink to spill. Harry instinctively craned his neck and caught sight of a long mane of red hair in the crowd. “Ginny!”

Several bodies moved, and a lithe and small figure leaning against the bar came into view. Ginny’s bright brown eyes caught sight of the trio. She was surrounded by friends. Her trademark mischievous smirk graced her face, though whether that was for them or the bloke who was leaning close to her Harry couldn’t be sure. Ron made a gesture for her to join them, and she waved her hand dismissively, which only made him gesture more adamantly. She seemed to roll her eyes and tilted her head in consent but only after making an impatient hand motion and returning to finish her chat with her companion.

“Ugh, not another one,” Ron groaned. Harry turned back to face his friend. Harry quirked an eyebrow but said nothing.

“She’s twenty, Ron. She’s allowed to date,” Hermione said.

“She has bad taste in men. Corner was a right git, and Dean — well, he just wasn’t good enough.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I thought you liked Dean.”

Ron grunted, but then straightened. “Make some space.”

He gestured to Harry’s books still scattered on the table. Harry obliged quickly, not wanting an easy reason for Ginny to nettle him. Ron took a moment to look at his friend closely.

“Be nice.”

“I’m always nice.” Harry retorted, busying himself with another swig.

“Hum.” Ron and Hermione shared a look.

“I’m nice,” Harry insisted.

Feel free to send an ask for the WIP title game! (Yes, I know, I have far too many...)

#theroomofreq #i had forgotten about this story #wip title game #ask games #muggle au #college au #having fun with pride and prejudice #enemies/rivals to lovers #ugh i can see it #but i don't have it in me to write super witty margin commentary #maybe someone can help #hinny #Harry Potter #Ginny Weasley #fanfiction

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petergrantkavinsky · 5 years ago

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RED QUEEN Spoiler Chat with Victoria Aveyard on Instagram (04/17/2020)

Q: Who’s the inspiration for Mare? VA: The RED QUEEN series is written in first person point of view, which means you’re in the character’s head. The majority of it is written in Mare’s perspectives. The inspiration for her - because so much of the books was her and so much of it was me - naturally, there were things in there and character moments that came from my personality. She also has a lot of things I wish I was and also things I’m glad that I’m not. I think that we as writers get to explore being other people the way that we write. Another character that had a lot of me in him was Julian. Julian was probably the closest to my personality. Maybe a little of Evangeline if I didn’t have the rules of society.

Q: Why did Shade have to die? VA: I firmly believe that character deaths have to mean something, and you have to feel something because if you get to the point where you’re desensitized, you’ve lost the audience and there’s no point in what’s going on. I knew [Shade] had to be removed from the narrative because he made things too easy for Mare both emotionally and physically. It’s very hard to write any kind of set piece or action sequence around someone who can teleport. I had to find really creative ways to knock him out every single time. But mentally he was such a crutch for Mare. When you’re writing, there’s supposed to be many obstacles for your characters, you’re supposed to make things as difficult as possible. That’s when they really start to shine, when shit hits the fan. So I knew he would be removed, and I knew removing him would be a major turning point in [Mare’s] character.

Q: Maven broke my heart a lot of points in the book. VA: Yeah... Yeah.

Q: Did you ever consider to have Maven’s “good side” back? VA: It’s interesting because I don’t see him having good side and bad side. I don’t see a firm delineation in his brain. It’s not like he was switching between people, it was all one. And I think that’s how most people are. We all have different sides of ourselves, but they all conglomerate into one person. I never really considered an about-face for him. I didn’t think it would be realistic to his character, to the world, to the path that he’d set himself on. I think he was really really dedicated to the idea “what if everything I’ve done has been in vain?,” and he almost wanted to make the bad things he’s done worth it, so that in his mind they balance out and there was never any way to square that. I do think - in this part of my dedication to writing real characters and writing people - I think that Mare and Cal maybe made a mistake or maybe wrote him off a little too fast? I really wanted to include that confusion and that sort of moment at the end where Mare is thinking “did we make the right choice?” You’re never really gonna know because that’s how life is, you wonder about choices you made, and you never know.

Q: What was the song Mare and Cal were listening to when they were dancing in the moonlight? VA: It was COME ON EILEEN. In the very first draft of RED QUEEN, there were so many more references to modern-day life. There was a dialogue where Mare said “we’re dancing to this song about someone named Eileen,” which honestly in hindsight wouldn’t make sense because language had changed by that time. Our English today would have been similar with what Old English is to us now in that it would be very very difficult to understand.

Q: If you could revive any character in the series, who would it be? VA: That’s a hard one. It almost makes me feel good about who I lost because I can’t immediately answer “oh, I want this character back.” I think it would probably be Shade. I feel bad for him, the hole he left behind. And it was so fun. I guess?

Q: How far in the future is RED QUEEN set? VA: Post-post-apocalyptic setting. The world has fallen apart and put itself back together. More information about that in BROKEN THRONE.

Q: How did you start writing the series? Where did the thoughts and idea start? VA: I remember I was sitting at the desk and I had this image of a girl in the arena about to be executed, and instead of dying, she electrocutes her executioner and kills them. I was like “what is this?” I remember I wrote a little snippet of it down and e-mailed it to myself, and RED QUEEN sort of built from there. The questions I asked myself, “who is she?,” “why was she going to be killed?,” “what kind of world exists for her to have this superpower?” That helped me build the story and find what sort of facet I wanted to tell and how.

Q: Were you inspired by House Lannister to make House Samos? VA: Not directly, but GAME OF THRONES inspired so much of the RED QUEEN novels. I would say the biggest inspiration I took from GAME OF THRONES - A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE - was the way that the books are structured and written. The chapter endings are almost always an insane twist. I got to the point when I was reading those books and I was covering the end of the chapter because I knew my eye was going to drift, and I would look to the side and “oh, this character just got their throat slit. Great.” I wanted to write that way, so a lot of the chapter endings in RED QUEEN and all of the endings of the books have this twist. It’s one of my tricks for getting you guys to keep reading.

Q: Do Mare and Cal get back together? VA: Well, I don’t know, maybe we’ll find out in BROKEN THRONE, who knows? But I was really really proud to get to that ending and have my characters in a place where they know they need to heal and maybe sort of find themselves again. You can’t necessarily do that with another person - some people do - I just don’t think they could. And they’re so young. I’m so happy with many different endings, but to me it didn’t feel true to sort of bookend a life that young. I think it gives the world more reality if you feel there’s more to come and there’s more going on as opposed to the door has shut, the book has closed.

Q: Which power would you like to have? VA: My favorite superpower is not in the books. It was in the first draft of RED QUEEN, but wisely my agent was like “everything up to this point was great. You’ve got to take this out.” It was time travel, and I’m so glad she told me that. But I would love to be a time traveler. I just want to check out what’s going on back in the day.

Q: Did you cry writing a scene? VA: I’m not a cryer while writing. Some authors are, some authors aren’t.

Q: Did you ever give up while writing RED QUEEN? VA: Yes. I distinctly distinctly remember this. I was about three months into writing the draft. I was halfway through, and I thought this was garbage. I remember I reread CATCHING FIRE, the second HUNGER GAMES book. That sort of gave me this motivation to refill the well essentially, and I wanted to write again. But that wasn’t enough. The thing that really pushed me over the top was both my dad and my best friend who were reading the book as I was writing the chapters. I slowed down so much that both of them were like “can you just tell me how it ends because i really wanna know if you’re not gonna finish it?” And I was like fine, okay, I will write this book. And I did. It just came down to that moment of decision to push through. I work best when I’m under pressure. I was really really under pressure then, my back was so against the wall in terms of career. Looking back, I see what a precarious position I was in. I’m really glad I didn’t realize it at that time, but I’m very glad I pushed through on that.

Q: Was there a different ending to WAR STORM? VA: No. I knew the emotional ending I wanted for RED QUEEN when I wrote the first book. I knew I wanted to end this with the main character and the love interest not together. I knew I wanted to have that reality of too much has happened, we’ve been broken, and we need to heal on our own. That was the message I really wanted to send. In GLASS SWORD, I figured out the plot ending and where it was going to go, and it never changed from there. I’m so happy that my editing team didn’t push back on that, my agent never pushed back on that. Everyone was go for it. I got really lucky.

Q: How did you come up with the names for the characters? VA: A lot of them just popped into my head for the most part. Cal was the only one that was really constructed. I knew I wanted him to have a cool nickname but a really good-feel royal full name, so Tiberias Calore. Calore means heat. And I shortened his last name into Cal.

Q: Maven and Thomas? VA: As of now, no plans to return to that story, short story or a novel of its own. But it was a relationship I was really keen to focus on and show how much that colored Maven and his relationship with his mother. His mom is such an interesting character because she does love her son, and so many things she did to him, she did out of love, like trying to take away pain from him by messing with his brain. It had a lot of repercussions later on, but Thomas was definitely the first thing that was so painful, and he went to his mother and said “take this from me.” I think that was really a slippery slope.

Q: Tyton was good character. VA: Thank you! I liked him too. I really loved the electricons getting sort of a little squad going. That moment where Mare realizes she’s not alone. She’d been kidnapped at that point, and people are coming for her, but she’s not alone in what she is. Up to that point while learning “oh, I’m not the only Red who has powers,” she was the only Red with her power, and finally people who deeply understood what was going on...it felt like giving her a hug.

Q: How many times did you think of Maven’s ending? Were you sad to write him the way you knew you had to? VA: I don’t have those emotional downturns with work. There are definitely scenes where I’m so excited because I cannot wait for someone to read this. His twist in RED QUEEN when he reveals where his true alliances lie, that was one of the things I was so excited to get in front of people and to experience with you. But no, I don’t think I was sad. Does that make me a bad person?

Q: Do you think you would write a book in the same world as RED QUEEN? VA: I would say never say never, but I’m definitely playing in different sandboxes right now.

Q: Do you worldbuild as you go or do you know every backstory beforehand? VA: For RED QUEEN - and maybe this is why this is the first book I ever finished - I did a lot of the worldbuilding as I went. I got my bases, but then I really pushed myself to start writing as quickly as possible. In the past, I worldbuilded so many books, and you kind of burn out your inspiration on trying endless maps, trade routes, character backstories, and family trees. I think RED QUEEN was little bit of both. This new story, I did a little bit more of worldbuilding to begin with, but it really made myself jumping. I think there’s definitely a benefit to extensive worldbuilding. Most of it, at least in my experience, does not make it on the page, but it does help the author metabolize the world and the characters to the point where you’re writing it second nature, you’re not entirely thinking about what they’re doing, it’s just happening because you already know.

Q: Do you have an exact vision of every place? VA: Some places, yes. Some scenes, yes. Some scenes, it’s like shot for shot in my brain, it’s like watching it on a movie screen. Some places, it’s fuzzy at the edges and it’s just the people’s faces I see. But sometimes even those are fuzzy.

Q: RED QUEEN characters in Hogwarts houses? VA: Mare - Slytherin Maven - Slytherin Farley - Gryffindor Cal - Gryffindor for sure, he’s such a blockhead. Kilorn - Hufflepuff Elara - Ravenclaw Evangeline - has Slytherin, Gryffindor, and Ravenclaw tendencies. I do not believe in split houses.

Q: Did Maven and Thomas have a romantic relationship? VA: Yes. I believed and wrote Maven as bisexual.

Q: What inspired you the powerful and amazing ending of GLASS SWORD? It’s iconic! VA: GLASS SWORD is definitely my weakest of the four books, I think. That one was tough. Adjusting to writing a book in a vacuum versus writing a book when you had a first book and there was a third one coming, that was really tough. But the ending of that book is probably my favorite. “I kneel.” I remember I wrote those words and [screamed].

*Transcript by me :) (Yes, for the first time in maybe two years, I finally have all the time in the world again.)

*You may also watch the live session on VA’s IGTV.

#red queen #victoria aveyard #*

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alirhi · 4 years ago

Text

random snippet again

as promised, @feralgoblintea here's the (temporary) scene where the two sisters meet for the first time since one went missing as a child

note about the nickname: Rachel's middle name is Miranda; everyone has called her 'Andy' from that since she was a little kid. it's explained in her story, but not in this scene, so I just wanted to explain it here lol

"Your parents are very eager to know where you've been and what you've been going through all these years," the doctor told her, deep voice oddly gentle and soothing. Rachel smiled sadly; his voice reminded her of Amadeus. "Most of all, they want to know that you're alright."

She knew he thought she was crazy. Her parents definitely shared that opinion, which was why she was here to begin with. Still, she couldn't help asking, "And, in your professional opinion, am I?"

He caught her lightly mocking tone and snorted, leaning back in his chair to mirror her pose. "In my professional opinion," he shot back, though the sarcasm left his tone before he even finished his sentence, "you've been through Hell, Rachel. The trauma you've suffered is very, very real. If you're asking, do I believe in demons and portals and time travel, I'd have to say no. But that pain and fear came from somewhere... I'd like you to come back in for regular sessions, if you're up for it; see if we can cut through the fantasy, see past the demons and find the real monsters who hurt you."

"That's why I'm not coming back." She stood, shaking her head a little. "I'm not surprised you don't believe me - I probably wouldn't believe it, myself, if I hadn't lived it - but it's a bit frustrating. What I told you isn't metaphors or delusion. It all happened, and I'm not interested in having someone rip it all apart and try to make me doubt my own memory."

"They call that 'gaslighting' these days."

Startled, the blonde whirled around to face the source of the new voice; a woman she sort of vaguely recognized was standing in the doorway, hand on the knob, smiling at her. After a long moment, her brain helpfully edited the image before her to make it make sense; wild red hair to dirty blonde, violet eyes to mismatched green and blue, face younger and body smaller and more plump. "...Beck?!"

Rebecca's smile widened and she stepped forward with a nod. "Hey, Andy."

"Oh my god!" With a laugh and a delighted screech, she launched herself across the room and threw her arms around her little sister. "What are you doing here?"

Nearly squeezing the breath out of her, the younger woman murmured, "I heard you were back and had to see you. Stand your ground, Andy. Don't let them make you forget or doubt that it was all real. We know the truth." She released her, only to bring her hands up to grip the sides of her sister's head. "Magic is real."

Rachel froze, staring at Rebecca's mouth long after it closed and the two long, wicked fangs that had drawn her attention were hidden from view. "...What happened to you?"

"Not here. I'll tell you everything, but not here."

"Okay." Without so much as a backward glance at the shrink, she followed the redhead out of the office, past their fretting parents, and out into the bright sunny day that made Rebecca hiss.

She cringed and immediately donned a beat-to-hell baseball cap and a pair of dark sunglasses. "Fuck, I hate sunny days."

"You always did." Rachel couldn't help smiling faintly; so many years had passed, more than anyone in the world around them could ever understand, and yet so little about her baby sister had changed.

"Yeah, well... I've only gotten more sensitive to it."

Once they'd made it deep enough into the woods behind the Industrial Park that there was no risk of anyone overhearing, they stopped, and Rachel asked her point blank: "You're a vampire, aren't you?"

Rebecca laughed, gratefully leaning back into the shade of the nearest tree. "Only in our lives is that a casual conversation starter. And yes. Thankfully I'm old enough that daylight won't kill me. It's just unpleasant."

With her own accidental time travel in mind, the blonde asked, "How old are you?" Thirty-seven, she knew, in the eyes of the people around them; to them, Rachel herself had only just turned thirty-nine, and yet both sisters looked at each other with exhausted, haunted eyes millennia older than they could ever hope to make anyone else understand.

"As a vampire, or in general?" She smirked, shrugging off her own question before her sister could answer. "In general is harder to pin down, but I've been a vampire for about six thousand years, give or take a few."

Leaning against a tree roughly opposite Rebecca's, Rachel mirrored her smirk and crossed her arms over her chest. "I was Queen of an entire planet, and then POW and slave on a second, then a fugitive... I managed to send my older daughter home, before I got stuck on a third planet with my boys and little girl. It's been about ten thousand years."

"You have kids?" Rebecca grinned, once again showing those distractingly long fangs. "Me, too! I have two daughters, Madeline and Alice."

"Senna, Kieran, Caspian, and...Cassie," Rachel told her in answer to her unspoken question. She couldn't help blushing as she listed her children's names; she'd since learned what senna was, and hadn't actually given her younger two children names beginning with the same sound on purpose. It had just sort of worked out that way.

"Twins?"

She shook her head. "Caspian's my stepson, kinda, and Cassie was named after-"

Rebecca flinched, remembering. "After Cassie Wade, right? I was so focused on figuring out what happened to you, and then fighting to survive, I'd forgotten she went missing with you."

"She..." Clearing her throat, the blonde squared her shoulders and pulled her strong front around herself like a familiar safety blanket. "She saved our lives; she didn't make it. And, yeah. I named my youngest after her. Anyway, they're all grown, and Kieran..." Jaw clenching, she forcibly dismissed thoughts of her rapist and merely said, "He's my perfect warrior prince. Well, King now. I love them all, and desperately miss Senna, but Kieran, despite his more questionable choices, has a special place in my heart."

Rebecca took her sunglasses off and studied her for a moment before venturing, "Y'know... I literally eat rapists for breakfast."

That got a startled bark of laughter from her big sister, who shook her head. "Even if my boy hadn't already killed him, I doubt his gross, rancid blood would sit well with you. He wasn't human."

The redhead shrugged, smirking again. "Doesn't have to be. I've eaten Fae, elves, one vampire that pissed me off royally..."

"Not such a picky eater anymore, huh?" she teased, grinning. "Was it some badass revenge on your sire or something?"

Laughing, Rebecca shook her head. "Nope, no sire. I'm the OG vampire, babe. The first of the species. My younger daughter, Alice, is the first of the natural born vamps."

"So, wait... You could still get pregnant after you were turned? What?" Rachel frowned, beyond confused. "And how the fuck...?"

"I'm not dead," her little sister explained with another laugh. "Everything's slowed way the hell down, but hasn't stopped. I can't have kids with a human, or probably most Fae, but a certain trickster God..."

"...God?"

She grinned and nodded, though her haunting violet eyes looked sad. "Loki. He's Alice's dad."

"Huh. So the Gods are real." Rachel snorted. "Go figure. And my sister banged one."

"I loved him," the other woman whispered, staring at the ground. She opened her mouth as if to speak further, then seemed to reconsider and closed it again, clearing her throat.

To spare her from some clearly painful memories, whatever they were, Rachel asked, "What's a Fae?"

"Fairy," was the simple enough answer. "Fairies are real, too. Maddie - my oldest - is Fae."

Is she Loki's, too? She didn't dare ask - Loki was clearly a touchy subject - but she was dying to know.

As if she could read her mind, Rebecca, still avoiding her gaze, explained, "I was still mortal when I had her. Her father was Fae."

As the light breeze shifted the leaves above them, making the light dance across Rebecca's ghostly white skin, Rachel finally noticed the scars. At first, they'd looked like tribal tattoos, done puzzlingly in a silvery-white. When she realized they were actually a complex web of ancient scars, she also noticed they covered every inch of her sister's flesh that she could see around her shorts and tank top. Her face was the only place free of the oddly beautiful swirling lines, though she did spot a faint scar on her forehead, running from hairline to cheekbone and through the outer edge of her eyebrow.

"Is Madeline's father why you hunt rapists?" Is he the one who tore you apart?

"He didn't rape me... Technically. But yes, he's the one who scarred me." At her startled look, Rebecca smirked; it utterly failed to reach her eyes, but it was a start. "I can read your mind. I'm trying not to - I find it unspeakably rude and invasive - but when you're actively thinking about me, it tends to cut through my shields. The scars are from a spell he worked on me; blood magic. It's what made Maddie's conception possible, and chained me to him for years."

"Kieran's father was my greatest enemy; Crown Prince of the people who'd been attacking and slaughtering mine. King by the time I escaped." She didn't know what made her suddenly share this, but it felt like the thing to do. Her sister had told her something deeply personal and troubling; it seemed only right to meet candor with candor. Besides, Rachel and Rebecca had been two peas in a pod as children, as close as two sisters could possibly be. There was no amount of time that could strain their relationship. "I was captured in battle and kept as a slave for around a year and a half."

"How did the other three come about?" She smirked again, shoving her wild red hair back off her face impatiently. "Even when we were kids, I'd have bet just about anything that you're gayer than a rainbow, so how do you have so many kids?"

Rachel laughed, rolling her eyes. "Political marriage gave me Senna - born in a dungeon, thanks to me being pregnant during the battle and not knowing it yet. She was smuggled home to her father after she was born. I made a friend in that Hellhole, Emil, and he'd been raising Caspian; he's not his biological father, but that never mattered, just like it didn't matter to me that I didn't give birth to him. That boy's just as much my son as Kieran. We were supposed to go back to my home when we escaped, but something went screwy and we ended up on Achlys, instead, where I met my girlfriend and we all decided to just settle and raise the boys."

"So you cheated on your husband?" Rebecca's grin was teasing - and, thank god, reached her eyes at last! - but Rachel still threw an acorn at her when she said, "You whore!"

"I never saw him again! And he wouldn't have given a shit," she explained with a laugh. "I was, like, his third or fourth wife. And like I said, it was purely political; I was Queen, he was my advisor, he wanted power and I wanted an heir. Enter Senna, who boosted Raziel from random noble to father of the next Queen, and assured that there would be someone to take the reins if I died."

"So..." Her sister began ticking points off on her fingers as she spoke. "Shrewd political moves gave you Senna, you're co-parenting Caspian with a friend, we won't speak of Kieran's origins... How and why was Cassie a thing?"

Rachel shook her head, gaping at her. "A thing? That's nice, Beck. Real nice."

"Gods, you've missed so many cultural shifts, dude." Rebecca shook her head right back, trying not to laugh at her. "Just answer the question, old lady."

"Emil and I, and my girlfriend Trinity, all talked and decided to hell with conventionality; we all love each other, so we'll all be together. Em's my exception, I guess; the only man I've ever been attracted to even after seeing him naked. Our boys were grown, Senna was long gone, we'd made a whole new life for ourselves, so we decided to have another baby. Enter Cassie." Rachel sighed, staring off into space. "And now she's grown, Kieran's back in that awful place trying to turn it around, married to a great girl, Caspian's there with them to help..."

Though she had a feeling she knew the answer, the vampire asked softly, "And your lovers?"

"...Dead. Cassie - Cassie Wade, I mean - died in prison, Trin and Em were killed in the second war." A bitter smirk tugged at the corners of her lips. "Kieran and Cas are running a third."

"There's always another fucking war," Rebecca grumbled. "I've watched so many of them come and go, fought in two, myself... It never really ends."

#crossroads #claddagh #achlys #rachel o'brien #rebecca o'brien #achlys and claddagh meet

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spagbol99 · 4 years ago

Note

Heyy happy FFWF! You’re amazing and I love your fics! So, my brain just decided to remind me of one of your posts from a while ago where you gave us a snippet of a fic you’re currently writing (it was the seven-sentence challenge I think) and I got curious about it again. Is it something you’re still working on? If it is, would it be possible to get another sneak peek to satisfy our irondad cravings? I’m sending some sunshine your way, hope you have an awesome day!☀️

Hiya! Happy FFWF!

I am indeed still working on my BioDad fic. I am about 90K written but I won't lie, I’m struggling a bit. I think a lot of it has to do with wanting it to be good enough- it doesn't feel like it has the same flow like I had with A Peter Parker Problem. I mean, I think what I have is ok but I want it to be as better (- sorry couldn't resist a Homecoming pun..!). So I prob need to get out of my own head about it. Anyway, that really isn't what you asked me, is it?! Can you have another sneak peek? Yes you can! Ok, you know how long winded I am so it’s more of a half a chapter rather than a snippet - oh well!

----

Peter

“Peter, Boss would like to see you in his workshop.” FRIDAY’s voice filtered down from above.

Peter looked up towards where it had emanated from, worrying his lips between his teeth.

Why did Mr Stark want him to go down there?

Peter had retreated back to his room after they had said their goodbyes to Harley. The weekend had turned out much better than he had expected. He’d actually enjoyed himself and not felt like he was taking up space in the Penthouse. They’d tinkered about with tech and watched movies. Mr Stark was so much more relaxed in the workshop. He couldn’t deny that it’d been fascinating to see the man in his element. He’d left the two teenagers to do their own thing at one point, but Peter’s eyes had been drawn to the man as he worked: watching him work with holographic schematics with singular focus.

Peter put down his pen on top of the homework packet that he was working on and headed towards the workshop.

Sweat started to pool under his armpits as the doors to the room swished open as soon as he was in front of them; no need to knock or announce his arrival.

He tentatively followed the sound of metal on metal and as he turned the corner, he could see Mr Stark was working a sheet of a thin alloy into – well he wasn’t sure what, but something else. There was a bead of sweat running down the side of his face, and his hands were oily.

The banging stopped for a moment, and Peter cleared his throat.

Mr Stark twisted towards the noise, pulling his safety visor up when he saw who it was and sending Peter a warm smile.

“You, um, wanted to see me, sir?”

Tony took the visor off completely now and headed towards him, picking up and rag and wiping his hands as he did.

“Yeah kid, I did. It’s about borrowing the tools.”

Peter straightened up. Shit, he was in trouble. He looked at the floor and put his hands in his pockets.

“I’m sorry. FRIDAY said you wouldn’t mind, but I should have asked you directly. It won’t happen again, sir.”

“Oh no, that’s not what I meant…” Mr Stark’s face crumpled. “My tools are your tools. It’s just, I figured it’s safer if you use them in here. So, I set you up with your own workstation in here, you know, so you can have a proper area to create.”

Peter stared at him. He’d never had his own place before. A million possibilities went through his mind.

“It’s just over here…”

He followed Mr Stark a few steps to where there was indeed a cleared off desk.

“I figured you might like a holo projector too.”

Peter’s eyes widened as Mr Stark opened it up.

“I set you up your own server so you can save your work easily. You can talk to FRIDAY just as you’ve seen me do and she’ll help with any calculations or, well, anything you require.”

Peter continued gaping, as Tony jotted something into the holo and a rotating gauntlet came into view. “I took the liberty of putting this on here for you to practice getting used to working with the system.”

Peter stepped forward straight away. This was the coolest thing ever. He pushed his fingers forward and grabbed a piece of the floating gauntlet in his hands, pulling it apart in a motion that he’d seen Mr Stark doing yesterday. The image separated out into the component parts. He moved the pieces around with no more than a flick of his wrist. God, the whole system was so intuitive, it was incredible.

Peter spent a few moments engrossed before he realised that Mr Stark was standing there watching him.

“Oh, thank you, this is awesome. Th-thanks.”

He saw Mr Stark moving slowly, no doubt on purpose, to place his hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. It felt warm and secure. It had been a while since he’d felt such a gentle, warm gesture from an adult. He turned his attention back to the hologram; trying to keep his cheeks from burning but knowing he probably wouldn’t succeed.

Mr Stark’s hand retreated and he did too.

“Um, Mr Stark?”

The man turned around with a hopeful expression.

“I, uh, don’t suppose you have time to show me how it all works.” Peter chewed the inside of his mouth. He didn’t need help, not really.

Mr Stark let out the biggest smile that Peter had seen since he arrived, and he came and stood next to him.

“Yeah, sure bud. All the time in the world.”

Tony

Tony’s heart had taken a while to calm down. He’d been in a lot of high pressure situations in his lifetime. Literal life and death situations; Afghanistan, the wormhole and yet here his heart had been hammering just as much as it had then. At least that is what it felt like to him. Hell, the kid could probably hear it from where he was stood next to him.

He was stood shoulder to shoulder with his son. Just that thought alone was enough to make his stomach flip – though this time in a good way. His heart rate gradually began to decline, and he tried really hard to keep the ridiculous smile off of his face.

Being so close to him, hearing him talk. And God, he was so fucking smart. He seemed to want to hide it, but then he’d start to get excited, and Tony could see the inquisitiveness and joy in him. It was there, had been all along, there just hadn’t been the chance to push it out from behind the sheer fear the kid must be feeling about this whole new situation, this whole new identity that he had.

Tony knew that they should have talked about it all directly by now. But the kid was so on edge, he didn’t want to do anything to make it worse.

Social Services had reminded him that one of the major conditions of their breaking protocol was Tony’s agreement that Peter would attend Counselling sessions – both individual and family sessions. They were set up to start next week – it was just down to Tony to tell him. Tony looked over at him, as Peter studied some calculations, his dark eyes intent on the numbers in front of him, knocking a pencil against his lips as he did. Not today.

This whole weekend had been incredible – he’d be sure to send Harley a fat gift for his part in that. He’d made it all so effortless. So Keener would be getting a gift and an extra bump in his college fund too. But if the weekend had been good, then this afternoon had been perfect.

Tony hadn’t been too sure how the offering of the worktable would go down. It could quite possibly have been met with the same polite distance Peter had shown him since he got here. He was sure he was being totally transparent. Having the worktable in here meant spending time with him. He wasn’t sure that was what Peter wanted. But then, he’d just been about to leave him to it, not wanting to hang around applying pressure and Peter had reached out to him. Peter didn’t need guidance on the system – not really, that much was obvious in the first five minutes - so Tony could only surmise that Peter wanted to spend time with him. He’d asked about Tony’s old projects and tentatively asked Tony to show him them. Which was how they came to be elbow deep in giving DUM-E a proper tune up. Self-admittedly, Peter wasn’t as up with mechanical engineering, so it gave Tony the opportunity to teach him – something that he had always imagined that he’d have the opportunity to do with his son.

Peter’s head lifted and a moment later Tony heard the tell-tale click of Pepper’s heels.

“Tony!” Pepper’s voice called. And oh yes, that was her pissed off tone.

“Over here,” he called back cheerfully.

“So you are here!” Her voice was starting to grow louder as she got closer. “You can’t just mute FRIDAY and include me in that; we had a meeting, what was so…”

Pepper had made it to where they were and stopped still, her eyes training from him to Peter and back again.

“Sorry Pep, forgot about that meeting.” Tony couldn’t help but smile at her with what he hoped was a ‘look at this, don’t mess this up’ vibe.

Pepper’s mouth was open but before she could say anything, Peter did.

“Sorry Miss Potts, I asked Mr Stark to show me how DUM-E worked…” Peter seemed to hunch in on himself.

“That’s no problem. Tony appointed me as CEO specifically so he didn’t have to deal with meetings, if I remember correctly,” Pepper said, sending him a warm smile.

“That was one reason.”

“I suppose it is pointless of me to ask if either of you have stopped to eat whilst you have been down here?”

Tony looked at Peter, who looked back.

“Erm…”

Pepper rolled her eyes. “Tony, it’s 8pm and he hasn’t eaten!”

“Oh, sorry kid…”

“I didn’t even notice the time, I was so focussed,” Peter said sheepishly.

“Oh no, now there are two of you.” Pepper put a hand to her forehead. “I’ll go and order something in whilst you finish up and wash up. Pizza ok, Peter?”

“Yes, Miss Potts. Thank you.”

With that she turned on her heel and was off.

Tony looked to Peter who looked a little chastised.

“You did good, kid. If you hadn’t been here, she’d have had my head.” Tony grinned and Peter seemed to push a little smile out. “Shall we get cleaned up?”

Peter looked down at the robot in front of them as he twisted his hands together. “We are about ready to close him up, right? I don’t like to leave him all hanging out. Can we just finish it off, sir?”

Tony shifted his weight back.

“How about we make a deal? You stop calling me ‘sir’, and we can finish DUM-E off.”

Peter looked up at him, a look of uncertainty in his face. Was it so hard to not call your own father ‘sir’? Had his parents or uncle been so formal? Or was it something else? The words emotional distance floated into his mind – huh- maybe he had paid some attention during his past therapy sessions.

“Ok,” he said softly.

“Great,” Tony gently knocked his shoulder into Peter’s without thinking too much about it and was rewarded with a smile. “Let’s get this guy back on the road.”

----

Thanks for the ask!

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pertinax--loculos · 4 years ago

Text

Update

Gonna try a new thing. I've seen these weekly updates from other writeblrs and it appeals to me because I can blather about writing or lack of writing (if it's been one of Those weeks), I can also include anything else I want, and it's a manageable goal to have for a start.

Tentatively breaking it up into writing, reading OR watching, real life (if applicable), and possibly excerpt (again, if applicable).

So! (Warning: This is long. I seriously babble like nothing else.)

Currently Writing Absent That Night (tagged: WIP: ATN)

wordcount: no clue, it's all on my phone and I've been writing scenes I'd previously written snippets for, so it's a mash-up. (Which reminds me I need to back it all up at least onto my computer.)

Proud of the short summary I did for my pinned post, so repeating it here:

Agent Latrell has been chasing the thief known as Nox for more than three years; but when bodies start turning up at his crime scenes, he’s the only one who believes Nox isn’t responsible. Unfortunately, he’s also the only other suspect. In order to clear his name, he’s going to have to find the real killer; and the only way to do that is to team up with a criminal who, it turns out, he knows absolutely nothing about.

still love love LOVING this WIP. I've got pages and pages of notes, and it is probably getting a wee bit too complex with subplots and suspects etc, but I'm an overwriter anyway so if I end up with a 200k word draft then shrug. More to work with

dunno if I mentioned or just thought it was obvious because I know it so well, but it has an enemies/rivals-to-allies(lovers?) (sub?)plot. So I've been pulling out a lot of threads there

technically I'm up to about halfway between the catalyst and break into two. Definitely not hardcore plotting but I do have an idea of the beats I wanna follow in the back of my head

Nox is still a fucking mess. I should probably stop piling trauma onto him, poor guy

my favourite creation this week is Mark Gault, who is a secondary/minor character who is amazing in every way. He is both essentially a ruthless mercenary and the "I LOVE MY WIFE" guy. (I also keep calling him Grant, instead of Mark, because he's actually the father of a character who first appears in Phase Two of CASCADE. (!!!))

basically happy with how it's all going this week. Regular writing is getting the juices flowing and it's easier to come up with ideas even when I've only got a vague notion of what is supposed to happen in the scene.

guys i am such an overwriter this is ridiculous please send help this scene was supposed to be like 2.5k total and it's turned into 4-5 scenes and is like 10k long dear god--

Currently Reading Blue Lily, Lily Blue by Maggie Stiefvater, book three of the Raven Cycle

I have not just jumped in at book three of a series, I have read the previous two.

in the last week.

I've read eleven books in the last five weeks, so that's... something.

they have all been thrillers except for this series. (And also Girl One, which despite being marketed as a thriller was definitively NOT a thriller. Which, yes, I should've guessed from the tag line, but I'm still mad about it.)

I am in love with the prose. It feels similar to mine, but Better, and I have been unconsciously mimicking it.

(which may be a problem when I finish it and am still writing ATN, but that is an issue for Future Pockets)

ngl I was not a fan of the way the first book ended. Not only did I have to reread the final line multiple times in order to even begin to grasp it, but I kinda think it's a dick move to end on a cliffhanger, even for an established author and clear indications this was gonna be a series

(but you bought the next book, didn't you? DIDN'T YOU??)

very very much enjoying the series, to be concise (ha!). Love the characters and it's all pretty tightly paced. The overarching series arc kiiinda maybe feels a bit slow/irrelevant, and some of the motivations annoy me, but I keep reminding myself it's YA in which the motivations are in character, so

not far into this one yet but so far so good

I wrote this earlier this week and since have begun thinking the series arc is becoming more relevant, but am reserving judgement. Reading slower with work and reading but still enjoying it all

Real Life

continues to be mostly a pain in the ass. Apps in for a second job, research on next year ongoing

update: may have the dream second job, basically waiting for confirmation (fingers crossed!)

one of my housemates is the literal devil, although even that is being quite kind to her. The nice one is moving out because of it. People keep asking how I've lived in this house for three years. I have no answer.

enjoying writing time in evenings and feeling mentally pretty good thanks to exercise

Excerpt Long, nearly 900 words, but a favourite of recent pieces and also something I coincidentally wrote today. Nox and Latrell's third meeting, when Latrell is still, uh... resistant to the idea of working with him:

"Why me?" Not at all the way Latrell had intended to phrase it, but he couldn't take it back. He continued, quickly, instead, jumbled thoughts pouring out of his mouth. "Surely that's the least you can give me. You come to me and ask me to fucking help you after you've made the last three months of my life living hell, you can at least fucking tell me why the fuck that is. You owe me that much. I'm not letting you fucking walk away until you fucking answer me that."

Nox was silent for a long moment. He ran a calculating gaze up and down Latrell, as if searching for something; it wasn't apparent whether or not he'd found it when he said, softly, "And if I don't?"

Latrell was abruptly very aware of the weight of the handcuffs in his back pocket. He would have to move quickly. There was every possibility Nox would see this coming, especially if he'd been arrested before. But Latrell was quietly confident. He inched his hand back, keeping it subtle, eyes on Nox's face.

"In that case," he said, as evenly as he could. His fingertips brushed warm metal. "Perhaps we should try something--"

Everything went white.

For a moment Latrell thought he'd somehow lost consciousness; that he'd underestimated Nox's affinity for violence, that the man had punched him or otherwise managed to incapacitate him without otherwise moving. Then it occurred to him that he was still thinking, which essentially took unconsciousness off the table, and he realised, vaguely, that it was an illusion.

It was very, very convincing.

The entire world was an endless expanse of emptiness. Utterly, absolutely white, a whiteness that could not and should not exist. Latrell was overcome by a sensation of falling, of plummeting into nothingness; he had to concentrate to feel his feet still on the ground, to know he was still upright. He had nothing to orient himself. There was no up, no down, no left or right. Just that endless expanse of a lack of colour. He was hanging in nothingness, or everything.

"You forget who you are dealing with, Agent."

Latrell swallowed down nausea. Nox's voice came from startlingly close, the sound of it somehow wrong, which objectively he knew came from the fact that his brain was convinced it should sound small and insubstantial in this endless void but it sounded normal because he was actually still standing in the alley. It was academic knowledge only. He still felt like he was tipping or falling or rising, weightless and disoriented. He had no voice, no ability to open his mouth.

Experimentally he tried to take a step. He couldn't lift his foot off the ground. Physically, he was sure he could -- he could still twitch his fingers, if he thought about it -- but his mind was convinced that there was nothing to step away from, nothing to step onto. Just nothing, nothing, nothing. A brightness that wasn't a light, a void constructed of the pieces between atoms.

Nox's voice came from his other side this time. "I have attempted to do this civilly, but there are other options."

It was a struggle to concentrate on his words, close as they were. Latrell tried to narrow his focus to only sound, tried to ignore the nothingness he was suspended in, tried to tell himself it was all an illusion. Just something Nox wanted him to see. The Orn, threaded through his eyes or brain or soul, acting upon Nox's orders.

It didn't help. He was still in freefall.

"Do not," Nox's voice came, a bare whisper in his ear, breath brushing Latrell's neck, "Presume to test me."

Abruptly the white disappeared. Latrell was back in the alley, trying to adjust to the change of light, trying to find where Nox had gone. Turning his head made the ground roil beneath him and he staggered, utterly disoriented.

Fingers closed around his forearm, steadying him, and Latrell looked up to find Nox inches away.

"Easy, Agent," he purred. His smile was more a baring of his teeth.

Latrell wrenched away from him, staggering until his back connected with a comfortingly solid wall. He was dizzy, brain still adjusting to reality, but he managed to straighten his spine and set his shoulders. He kept his hands in front of him. In Nox's view.

"Do we have an understanding?" Nox said, still silky and low.

"Screw you," Latrell said, voice faint and alien.

Nox's smirk sharpened. "I thought so. Lovely chat, Agent Latrell." He sauntered past where Latrell stayed pressed against the wall, hesitated at the corner of the alley. "Keep up the good work."

He stepped forward and disappeared from view.

Latrell's breath left him in a rush and he doubled over, bracing himself on his knees. His head still spun, the unpleasant sensation he'd come to expect from vertigo. The backs of his eyelids were painted with a stark blank white. Every time he blinked he was engulfed.

It was far beyond any illusion he'd ever experienced. It was approaching the type he'd only ever read about in scientific articles.

You forget who you are dealing with, Agent.

Perhaps he had. But this assault supplied more than a reminder.

It also provided a piece of the puzzle.

#we'll go with #weekly update #WIP: ATN #excerpt #pockets muses IRL #god you can't tell i'm an overwriter at all can you #somebody please shut me up #>.<

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dreamdropxoxo · 4 years ago

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Hi, it‘s the plush shark anon again!

I just wanted to say that I absolutely agree that the illicitness of the situation is also a big part what‘s making it so sexually charged.

And oohh of course I want the snippet! I want all the snippets and all the chapters and every single word of this fanfic!

That last snippet though.. How is it even possible to make the simple act of looking at someone‘s neck so incredibly hot?? ��️😍 Gahaha now I‘m even more hyped for chapter 19 😳

Can I also say that I love how you fit all the other characters into your universe! It makes me really happy to see the Laurent/Ancel/Aimeric interactions and I‘m so glad that Jord and Aimeric are getting their chance at happiness and I hope everything works out for them ❤️ Aaand Jokaste 😍😍 Thank you soo much for Jokaste!! She‘s so sweet and fragile and all I want to do is hug her and protect her. The part where Damen cuddled with her and was just there for her completely had me melt into a puddle of warm feelings on the floor 🥰

Hi lovely plush shark anon 🥰

I’m so happy that you like the characters and how they fit into the universe ❤️. I was so excited for the opportunity to write Jokaste and Damen being family, and although he was a little heartbroken that she chose his brother over him, he’s over her when the story starts. So they get to have the family feels when she needs it most. 🥰

I have terrible self-control (seriously, that’s all the reason BoF even came into existence... I was there like: I’d like to write this but I have multiple WIPs already published on AO3 and this will probably not be some short story. And my brain went like: Yeah, girl, you absolutely should 🎉. Just FYI xD) and as a result you’ll find another snipped below the cut 😳.

Laurent looked flushed, his lips were slightly swollen and his hair an absolute mess and Damen had to take a step back, otherwise he might’ve pinned him against the bed and ravished him right then.

“That was really good,” Laurent finally stated as soon as his breathing had calmed down a little.

Damen nodded, his voice was gravelly when he replied, “Yes, it was.”

His husband fiddled with the edge of the blanket, now sitting on his haunches and observing him through his lashes. He was the loveliest view Damen had ever laid his eyes upon. Then something in his face hardened in resolve and he asked, without a waver in his voice, “Would you come back and sit down please?”

The request made Damen’s pulse speed up again, this time not from nerves but arousal. With measured strides, he advanced on the bed and sat down leaning against the headboard, his eyes never leaving the omega before him. He took off his boots and swung his legs up on the mattress, watching Laurent observe his every movement.

- Basket of Figs, Chapter 17

#basket of figs #my writing #my fic #plush shark anon #thank you so much for this message 😍#ask #I'm so EXCITED

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druddigoon · 5 years ago

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hi here’s some bederia scraps i’m dying

ye be spoilers

> soulmate au that never came into fruition, where soulmates involuntarily shared each other’s memories through dreams

Bede had his first soul-dream when he was twelve.

It was uncommon to get them that early, but not unusual; most came and went whenever they pleased, snippets of another’s life that flickered just beyond memory. Until you met your soulmate, you had no control over what got sent and what got received. All you could do was face it.

He remembered it like this: sun-flecked meadows green at summer’s peak, soft breeze fresh with new discovery. There was someone else with him, whose face was blank but hands were warm and calloused as they enveloped his, who talked in a rumbling baritone so low it was like the earth itself was singing him a lullaby. He picked Bede up and swung him like a merry-go-round, and for once there was no fear, just weightless laughter tethered by clasped hands and belonging.

When he woke on stiff orphanage mattresses, he woke with an aching deeper than anything he’d known for a while.

> self-indulgent gloria sketch about bede getting to know each of her pokemon. never finished

"No, go away," Bede says to the monster hovering near his heels. "Bad, nasty bug. Go away."

Durant gives no indication that it hears him except for the little tilt of its head. It gingerly noses his pant leg, then, with mandibles that can snap his entire calf, nibbles at his ankles. Bede blanches.

"Gloria, get your metal death machine away from me."

"Hmm?" Gloria's head peeks out from behind a steaming curry pot. "Awww, he likes you! Durant always wants to be everybody's friend. He wouldn't harm anyone outside of battles."

"I've seen him--" Bede bites back a wince as Durant digs its claws into his leg, trying to haul itself up. "--bring back huge sticks, only to snap them clean in half, accidentally, and sit down to whine over them. He's a hazard."

"Face it, you're only bitter because he one-shots your entire team. Relax, I've been training him to better control his strength, so you shouldn't have any unfortunate accidents." She leaves her curry to simmer as she makes her way towards him, disentangling the ant pokemon from his pants to carry like a doll. Durant nibbles at her chin, and Bede has a split-second panic attack at how his partner's face is held between its shearing jaws.

"Gloria, I love you, but..."

"Here." She grasps his hand and guides it to Durant, holding it still as antennae feel around. With a trill, Durant lifts its head to expose its neck. "Scratch him here, on the junction between the head and thorax. It's his favorite spot."

He does.

The "chin area" is sleek and strangely warm. Durant's abdomen shakes almost like a wagging tail as it leans into his palm.

Hard to believe something that can so mercilessly tear down battles with iron head and rock slide would be coming back for scritches. Gloria's watching the two of them with a small smile on her face, and suddenly he understands. Like pokemon, like trainer.

> from silent storm, sundering -- brief description of bede’s battling style from gloria i liked, before i scrapped the scene and rewrote it in bede’s point of view

Bede fights as if his pokemon are an extension of his mind and soul. You’ve encountered it before, the unpolished beginnings of his style in the mines and more recently in the Wyndon semifinals, but under Opal’s tutelage it’s been honed into something unspoken, innate in how his hatterene moves before he’s given the gesture, attacks mirroring the rise of his voice or the rhythm of his words in perfect synchrony.

> from keep them in your mason jars -- original idea was for bede to accompany gloria to postwick after her mother died from a heart attack. had to change it because the idea proved to be too much of a challenge for a simple, short prompt

“They said she had a heart attack. Young for her age, might’ve been prevented if they rushed her to the hospital in time.” Gloria dips her head, hiding her face out of view. “Except the nearest ER is a couple hours hike from here a-and they d-didn’t find her right away. She was g-g-gone before they got there.”

He didn’t have anything to say to that, so he ended up sliding her mug full of chamomile across the table, where she cupped it with trembling hands.

“I t-told her it was okay to rent an ap-apar—room in Wyndon. Had enough m-money now. But she didn’t want to. S-said she like this place b-better.”

> from keep them in your mason jars -- starts right after gloria leaves, went off the deep end lmao rip

“What’s being gym leader like? I’ve never really followed the circuit until my Glory became champion.”

Didn’t he rehearse something like this for his inauguration? He wracks his brain for the eloquent, well-written speech that moved a town, but the only thing he could remember was it being too cold outside for a ceremony.

“Oh, it’s. It’s essentially leading a gym; Ballonlea is largely self-sufficient, but since the gym. Is part of a interregional circuit, part of my job there has become—”

“Mum!”

A patter of footsteps can be heard before Gloria’s head pops out from another room. She’s holding a box, bound meticulously in ribbon and wrapping paper and still shiny despite the overall dustiness of the house. “Why was this in my room?”

“Oh, I—” She fumbles with the kettle and hisses quietly as the steel burns her hand.

“Mum!” Before Bede could even react, Gloria has already dropped the box and is crouched beside her mother, cradling her burnt hand. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m-I’m..”

“Nonsense, you didn’t do anything. I got too jumpy after spending a few months all by myself.” Gloria’s mother smiled, sliding her hands out of Gloria��s grasp and running them under the tap water. “That was a present for your seventeenth birthday I’d saved as compensation, since you were away for your birthday. As a surprise. Didn’t expect you to find it so quickly; silly of me to plan it as a big reveal and set it on your bed. Sorry for ruining the surprise Glory, happy very late birthday.”

Gloria wordlessly reaches out, and the two meet in an awkward hug.

The kettle, knocked on its side on the counter, spills boiling water onto the tiled floor below.

Piles of plastic bags bursting with second-hand toys, more than he’s held in his life. A tiny hatenna, who’d opened her eyes and telepathically asked Bede where her trainer was. His parents had swept him up in a hug, told him stay inside go to sleep on time eat all your food in the fridge yes even the gross ones, before they fled the region and left him for law enforcement to find.

His fists are clenched tight underneath the table, nails digging hard into the meat of his palm.

This is normal. Expected of a healthy family. He should be happy for Gloria, should be happy he’s part of this, please don’t ruin this please don’t ruin this—

You always ruin everything, don’t you?

(His parents were fine until he came along.)

“Excuse me,” he says, chokes out with the last breath of air left in his chest, as his chair wails a banshee screech when he stands up. The outside greets him in a shuddering lungful of cool forest air. Rapidash, grazing in the pastures, raises his head as he passes.

The gate clicks shut behind him with a click. It’s Gloria who finds him, sitting on moss-worn drystack and watching Rapidash sniff the wooloo. He hears the scuff of her feet on loose gravel—knows it’s her without looking, with a resolve that has him wondering when he’s learned—as the silence echoes like an oncoming storm.

"I'll book a ticket back to Motostoke today," he says, "Doubt your mum would let me inside her house after what I did."

“At least apologize to her, she deserves that much. She’s worried that she’s made a bad impression on you. After you left, she kept talking about her clumsiness scared the guest away.”

He scuffs his feet on the stones, avoiding her gaze. She takes his lack of answer as an invitation, hefting herself onto the drystack beside him with the ease of honed muscle memory, balanced, arms outstretched.

#drudwrites

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