#unless people are comfortable with a reader that is entirely described LOL

[on-leatheredwings]

oh............ oh nooooooo

[moorishflower]

66 for Sprout wings, 72, and 74 💛💛

For the fanfiction writing asks meme

What’s a fun fact about Maybe sprout wings?

It almost didn't get written at all! I wrote the very first scene with an extremely clear image of where I wanted to go with the fic, but...almost no idea how to get there. That's why the first chapter is so tonally different from the rest of it (and maybe someday I'll go back and rewrite it, now that I feel a lot more confident in my writing abilities in general lol). Maybe sprout wings owes its existence to @fishfingersandscarves, who provided a lot of encouragement and support over it, and kept my interest focused on it, and them prodding me about it is what gave me the inspiration I needed to connect the loose ends I was having trouble with. :)

A more fact-based fact: I read the entire Odyssey I believe 3 full times in the course of writing that fic, not to mention how many individual scenes I read over and over, and how many summaries and prose adaptations of scenes I read in order to get a better sense of what was actually going on, lol.

What’s your favorite writing compliment you’ve gotten?

I think any of the compliments where people express any strong emotional response as some of my favorites. I've gotten a number that tell me a fic made them cry, and that's always a very powerful thing, to be able to prompt that level of emotion. There are two that really stand out to me though. One was a comment on Ab instrumento ad corpus, which was on the surface my excuse to try and write fisting, and which turned, in part, into a 27k exploration of feelings, queer history, and kink exploration. I got a comment from a reader who said they were turning 71 this year, and who said that it was only in the last 15 years or so that they had come to understand their own queerness, but that they had been there in the 70s and 80s and 90s and had had gay and lesbian and trans friends, and that seeing their history in my fic had made them tear up, and how important it was to remember. Queer history and especially queer elders are super important to me. It wasn't that long ago there was a time when we simply didn't HAVE queer elders. They were all dead. And now we do! I went to Pride in NYC, and I saw SO SO MANY queer elders! People who narrowly missed the horrors of Reagan's presidency, who snuck or fought their way through, who survived. It made me cry. This comment still makes me cry, rereading it now.

The second comment was one on Beautiful, Strange and New, where a reader described their husband's struggles with depression and how they thought a line from the fic had helped them to connect to him during a very difficult time, and to feel more hopeful, and just...so I've struggled with depression almost all my life, and this fic very much was my love-letter to my own recovery, and coming to terms with the fact that there's never any CURING depression. There's only taking tiny steps forward, even when you slide back three steps on the way, because the alternative is giving up and then the depression, that bastard, wins. And it was really important to me, in BSN, that there wasn't some grand thing that made Morpheus better, he wasn't "cured" because Hob and Daniel loved him. He ends the fic no longer wanting to kill himself, but ADMITS that there are still bad days. That things aren't perfect. That his body is not perfect, that he hurts sometimes, that there will be days he spends in bed and doesn't want to leave because sleeping seems easier. But. BUT. There are birds singing, and kids playing in the park, and maybe next year they'll find the cure for cancer, and we won't know unless we keep going as long as we can. And to see that something I'd written had had some impact on someone like me, had offered some sort of comfort, had given someone the words they needed to help someone like me, that was...that was really powerful. I had to sit with that one for a really long time.

Do you have a fic you wish got a bit more love?

I mean, I think Wings just because it's my baby but I understand that it's not everyone's cup of tea. XD I don't know! I think everything I've written has gotten a good amount of attention. Definitely more than I ever expect each time. I think Here there be dragons, which is part of the Siren!Dream universe, is one of the more interesting settings and concepts I've written, and that the tags might scare some people off, but it's not that difficult to understand, I promise! And then I think the long way down, which was my first try at writing angst that I actually PERCEIVED as angst, was a major milestone for me. But for the most part I think fics are going to get the love that they get based on what people want to read, and I have to come to terms with the fact that sometimes what I want to write isn't the same as what people are interested in (see: Wolf and I, my extremely niche Dream-as-sentient-wolf smut fic, which was written for me and only me lol).

[glowingbadger]

do you have anything in the ask box abt sfw + nsfw hcs w caspar and linhardt??-- if not, could i rq them pls?

Two Very Good Boys TM why have I not written more for them yet lol - especially Lin, he's a fav of mine for sure~

Also. Can I just say. Linhardt has so much Game. Like, half of his support chains end with him being like "what if we fucked and/or got married haha jk... unless?" and the other person just 👀👉👈

Caspar, Linhardt x GN Reader

SFW (nsfw below the cut)

Caspar:

- Caspar is as intense and energetic about love as he is about everything else. His feelings for you grow steadily as you work together as friends and allies, and he eventually realizes that there's a reason why he's always bizarrely excited for dull monastery chores like supply runs and patrols when he's assigned with you.

- When he finally confesses, it's in the middle of some such chore. He's been staring at you oddly as you work, until he abruptly says your name, then blurts out, "I think I'm in love with you." He practically shouts it at you, his eyes fiery and his face red. Once you work past the shock of the moment and affirm that you feel the same, he pumps a fist in the air, then laughs as he lifts you and spins you in a circle.

- He's not exactly "smooth" and doesn't have much romantic experience, but his unwavering sincerity and desire to be good to you makes up significantly for these. He's terrible at surprise gifts, since he always wants to get you something you'll love, so he'll spoil it by saying something like "So how do you feel about danishes??" right before heading to the best bakery in town. But when you thank him, wearing one of those warm, genuine smiles- he just melts, and he figures he doesn't have to be smooth or clever as long as he can make you smile like that.

- This. Man. Is a Cuddler. He doesn't like to be "mushy" in public, but he truly adores every-day physical displays of affection. He can't help swinging your hands a little when your fingers are laced during a walk through town, and if you're alone together, he just habitually has to be holding or touching you somehow. Caspar was never one to sit still for long- until he realizes that holding you to his chest while the two of you chat on his bed is completely addictive.

Linhardt:

- Oh Lin, this beautiful weirdo. For a long while, you won't get much of a love confession from him; instead, he just continuously puts himself near you. He doesn't need anything from you, and there's no pressure to keep him occupied in conversation- he just finds he's soothed in your presence. He doesn't question it until he finds himself even choosing your company over his studies or sleep. Then, for some time, he actually finds this new feeling rather disturbing.

- Finally, you're both enjoying a sunny afternoon, reading, casually chatting a bit, him dozing off periodically. In a quiet moment when you'd assumed he was fast asleep, he instead turns towards you and quite suddenly says, "If I were to tell you that I find myself quite insistent upon being near you at every possible opportunity, how would you describe that feeling?" when you don't give an immediate response, he follows this up with, "Would you consider that romantic attraction? Perhaps I really have fallen for you... hm..."

- Linhardt doesn't have much of a memory for birthdays and holidays (his mind is generally occupied with any number of other things), but you're not likely to find yourself doubting his feelings for you, nor his commitment. That's because he's very blunt about telling you. The delicate propriety of the nobility is of very little concern to him, so he feels no hesitation about placing a kiss to your lips in the middle of the (very occupied) library and telling you, "My, you are exceptionally lovely today." Before, of course, returning to his search for whatever tome he'd insisted he needs to review for his latest topic of interest.

- He is an excellent listener when you've had a stressful day or are in a bad mood. Though you will need to tell him directly if you're just looking to vent, because he's one to always think of a straightforward solution for you. But, as a creature of his comforts, Lin is wonderful at helping you relax. He'll hold you and rub small circles along your back until one or both of you dozes off- if you need it, he'll even force himself to stay up long enough to talk more, or recite some list of known crest effects until his gentle, even voice lulls you to sleep.

NSFW 18+ v

Caspar:

- He likes sex intense and passionate, and has no problem "doing most of the work," as it were. You may have to guide his pace a bit, as he can get a bit too excited- but he has immense stamina, so you'll certainly be satisfied by the end. In fact, he's fully capable of cumming more than once in a night, with a fairly short refractory period, so if you're up for it, fucking Caspar can become quite a workout in its own right.

- Caspar can be pretty bitey- he loves marking you and being marked, and even he's surprised by how much he just loves burying himself at the crook of your neck, or at your chest, or your lower stomach. He's been attracted to people before, sure, but he's never known he could be so absolutely entranced by someone's body before you.

- As you'd imagine, he's pretty vocal in bed, and likes it when you are too. His pleasured grunts and moans are completely shameless, communicating exactly how incredible you make him feel. He doesn't have much of an innate sense for dirty talk, but he loves it when you talk dirty. Even simple encouragement, like "Oh, Caspar- fuck, just like that! Mmmh- your cock feels so good-!" gets his body burning to his very core. He never realized it before, but his ultimate weakness is when you can tell he's getting close, and you moan out that you want him to cum for you. It's his kryptonite, and his body shudders as a powerful orgasm takes over him.

- His cock is about average length-wise, but it is thick and very nicely veined. He's not excessively sensitive or anything, but if you manage to tie him up or force him to slow his pace in some other way, it is deliciously easy to reduce him to a whiny, needy mess. He'll buck his hips up as you tease the tip of his cock with a slickened finger, desperation in his eyes as he groans out, "Ungh, Y/N, this is torture- please, I- I want you so bad-!"

Linhardt:

- He's deeply focused and fascinated by your body, and will study you for as long as you can withstand his gentle touch. He wants to know your every single turn on, your every tender sweet spot, and wants to hear every possible way you can moan his name. Related- I've seen a lot of people assume Lin is entirely and exclusively a bottom out of laziness, and I firmly disagree. We've seen how intensely he commits himself to the things that have caught his interest, and once you're his, he's going to learn everything he can about your pleasure. He's open minded and willing to try almost anything at least once, provided it's not too strenuous.

- Lin very much enjoys exploring some less expected erotic pleasures; things like circling your fingertips with his tongue, then nipping and sucking at the tender skin, or fucking between your thighs or ass cheeks without fully entering you until you beg him. His easy self-confidence and patience make him something of an unintentional soft dom. It's not that he aims to make you whimper and beg for him before he finally enters you- it's just that he's enjoying your body so much that he doesn't feel the need to rush.

- He loves cockwarming. Lying comfortably on his side with you cradled against him and his length buried in your warm little hole- it's absolute heaven for him. He gets to relax and feel completely at ease and even a little sleepy as you hold him deep inside of you, and it's adorable when you squirm a little, trying to get his cockhead to rub into you a certain way. He gives a light chuckle and nuzzles against the back of your neck, murmuring, "Now, now, don't be impatient- aren't you comfortable?"

- He's not much of a fan of the mess that can come with sex, and resents the cleanup time required, as once he's cum, he wants nothing more than to just hold you close and let your steady breathing lull him to sleep. So, he'll generally do his best to minimize marks, or a mess of cum- though, given his method is frequently to lick you clean, who's complaining.

[anyoneseenadam]

Hii

Can you please write something for fenrys? first meeting maybe? And the bond clicks? Thank you 🥺🥺

pairing: Fenrys x reader (throne of glass)

warnings: implied smut, kissing and nudity, lil bit of blood and injuries but mainly pure fluff

a/n: fenrys is my fave and u can tell in the fic omg!! i hope you enjoy it cause it’s probs my fave one i’ve written yet :))) (i also made it a teensy bit ddlg but that’s just cause i want Fenrys to baby me lol)

——————————————————————————

Shit

Fenrys pressed his hand to the wound in his side, feeling the slow pump of blood seeping between his fingers as he stumbled through the woods. He had won the fight. The other guy now lying in the dirt, however not without consequence. And he wasn’t entirely sure he would stay alive unless he could find a healer soon.

He stopped to lean against a tree, breathing heavily as he held himself together. He transformed into a wolf, moving faster, and trying to pick up a scent, any scent, that could possibly help him, when he caught the sweetest smell he ever had. It was a female, smelling like peonies and blackberries, sweet but with an underlying smoky smell. She smelled of long days in flowers fields and even longer nights beside campfires, evenings spent curled in hand woven blankets and mornings spent drinking dark coffee and eating sweet toast.

He whimpered and began running in the direction of the scent. If he wasn’t so focused on not bleeding out he may have stopped to consider why the scent was pulling him in the way it did. He would have considered the direction he was running into, the direction of his future, his past and his present. But he just kept up, going as fast as his injured body would allow, concentrating on the sweet smell and putting one foot in front of the other.

He felt the change almost immediately, the cold snow and rough bark being swapped for cool moss. The pine trees swapped for tall, oak trees teeming with life. The silence of a frozen forest swapped for the rustling of bushes as nocturnal animals moved silently under the guise of darkness. The chill of the snow-covered woods swapped for the warmth of a summer evening. He pushed between two bushes and found himself facing a clearing, in the middle of which stood a wooden cottage, the wood dark and the roof covered in more moss, flowers growing from every surface and ivy peeking out of the crevices in the house. He stumbled down the path to the cottage, turning back into a male and crossing a small bridge over a stream that separated him from the intoxicating scent he chased.

He let out what he could only describe as a bark, calling for the female that carried the scent he was growing addicted to, collapsing onto his knees, feeling his conscious fade as he held to the side of his stomach, searing pain replaced by fiery veins as his head swayed. He barely heard the door open, only noticing the scent get so much stronger. He attempted to look up, the movement making his head spin as he collapsed, the last thing he saw, a girl in the halo of the moon.

--

Fenrys awoke in a foreign bed. An unbelievably comfortable bed, but foreign all the same. He pushed up on his forearms, gritting his teeth at the reminder of his wound.

The room he was in was dark, not just in light source, but also in décor. The window was cracked open with lacy curtains half closed, there was a tall bookshelf sat next to a desk with leather-bound books lining it, and tall candles flickering and casting the room in a golden glow. The bed he was in was small, clearly just for one, but so soft. He had blankets surrounding him and copious amounts of pillows, some that appeared hand made. In fact, upon closer inspection, a lot of the room looked handmade. Art covering the walls depicting crying women or bloody scenes that he presumed had been done by the owner of this house, given the pallet and assortment of brushed he saw on the windowsill.

And then there was that scent. It was stronger here and he pressed his face into a pillow tentatively, breathing in through his nose as he picked up on the deeper undertones. Fresh picked daisies, melted wax, the pages of old, worn books and something he couldn’t describe. Something so intoxicating he felt tears spring to his eyes, his body reacting in an unheard-of way, so overcome with emotion from scent alone.

He heard footsteps approaching the closed door and hastily put down the pillow, sitting up straight and readying himself to fight whoever it was if they were an intruder. But when you entered he faltered.

Mate. The word clanged through him as he came face to face with an angel. You were wearing a dark brown broderie dress with white hearts lining the hem, your feet bare and toenails painted black. Your hair was falling around your face, messy and untamed, and you had dark smudges around your eyes, makeup that accentuated your features and made you look like a character from the scary books he read as a boy. However right now you looked more like a teddy bear.

He briefly remembered the tail of a witch he had read. An evil witch who lured men into her house with whispered words and sweet kisses, only to steal their hearts and use their blood to keep her skin young and eyes bright. This girl however was no witch, you had elegantly pointed ears and a graceful way of moving that only came from being Fae. He watched as you moved to his side, silent on your feet, putting a tray down beside him before moving an opening the curtains further, letting in more natural light.

“How are you feeling?” your sweet voice interrupted his thoughts. His mind coming to a halt as he heard you speak.

“I- er fine..?” His voice was rough, and you smiled, a reserved smile. Moving to his side and sitting at the edge of the small bed he was on, pouring him a glass of water from a small decanter you had brought through.

“(Y/n.)” you answered his unspoken question.

“Fenrys.”

He muttered a thanks as you passed the glass to him, noting the crystals that hung around your neck and adorned your fingers.

“Crystals?” he asked, and you looked down, playing with the rings you wore nervously.

“My mother taught me about their meanings, they’ve always helped me.” You bit your lip and Fenrys decided he would never meet anyone as cute as you again, it simply wasn’t possible.

“Me too, my mother used to carry them everywhere.” You smiled at him shyly, a beat of silence passing between the two of you as he listened to the birds outside.

“Can I see your wound? I want it make sure it’s healing properly.” You asked and he nodded, pulling the blankets down slightly, grinning as your eyes widened as you took in his physique.

“I’m presuming you’re the healer I have to thank for letting me see another day.” He flirted playfully but you shook your head,

“I’m not a very good healer I’m sorry, but I did stitch it up and it should do the rest itself.” You pressed gentle fingers against the skin surrounding his wound and he glanced down, seeing it was already practically healed.

“You still saved my life.” He said, completely serious and you looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

“I’ll let you rest.” You said quietly, standing to walk away and he smiled, feeling more at ease than he ever had since the war, watching his little mate leave.

--

He woke up again a few hours later, wound completely healed and puckering into a scar. Standing he stretched his arms above his head, not bothering with a shirt as he left the room in search of the girl that had occupied his dreams.

The rest of the house was alike your room, tall candles and worn books everywhere. He passed a kitchen filled with copper utensils and a living room with an old armchair, a half-filled mug left next to it, but still no you. He saw the front door was cracked open and wandered over to it, pulling it open and stepping into the fresh air, barely feeling the chill on his body as he found you kneeling on the moss-covered ground facing away from him.

You were muttering under your breath and as he got closer he saw you were cradling a small bird with a broken wing. He watched as you closed your eyes, the ground and air seeming to still as you called upon your magic, a soft white light flowing from your hand into the bird until its wing was healed and it could flutter away.

“I thought you said you weren’t a healer,” he broke the silence and you turned to him with a small smile.

“I said I wasn’t a very good healer.” You replied, standing with green stained knees, your hair now piled atop your head and lip gloss coating your soft lips.

“What are you then?” he came closer to you, unable to resist holding his mate, even if you weren’t aware yet.

“My mother said we were natural faeries.” You said, looking at him shyly, “we derive our power from the earth, crystals, sea water, dirt, fire, stuff like that.”

He hummed, “So technically you could have any type of magic?”

“I guess, but I’m not very good at magic,” you muttered, hands fiddling with your rings again as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “Fenrys?” you asked, all pouty lips and wide eyes.

“Have you realised yet darling?” he asked, and you bit your lip. He knew he could tell you, but he wanted to hear you say it.

“I- we’re mates I think.” You were practically shaking, and he didn’t know why he suddenly had this burning desire to scoop you into his arms and protect you against the horrible world that was out there. He nodded with a smile, watching as awe took over your stunning face.

“Can I kiss you princess?” he asked, and you felt your face heat up, looking down as he pulled you closer. “Have you ever been kissed before angel?” he asked, his face hurting from the grin that was spreading over his face when you shook your head.

He tilted your head up to his, looking deeply into your eyes as your breaths came out quicker. “Not many people can find our cottage, my mother put up wards when she got ill, our family wasn’t well liked by the king. You probably only got here because we’re mates,” You muttered.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked again, running a soft hand over your head, smoothing your hair away from your face as you nodded sweetly.

He smiled before leaning down and kissing you gently. Pulling away and feeling as smug as a thief when your lips followed his, pouting at the loss of contact so quickly. He chuckled at your put out expression and leaned down to kiss you again, deeper this time, his tongue slipping into your mouth when you gasped against his lips, quickly beating your own in a battle for dominance and taking his time exploring your mouth.

He laid you down that morning and took you for the first time in the soft moss. Then again in your even softer bed. Now you were sitting in his lap, eating strawberries of a bush you had in your back garden as he pressed dizzying kisses into your neck, both of you still as bare as the day you were born, Fenrys having forgot how much he missed skin to skin contact, when you suddenly remembered.

“Fenrys?” he hummed in response, completely enamoured with the feel of your soft skin against his rough calluses. “Why were you hurt last night?”

“I didn’t tell you my job did I angel?” he asked, the pet name making you giggle as you shook your head, “I work for the queen of Terrasen.”

You gasped, “But she was killed!”

“Oh angel, when was the last time you left this cottage?” he asked, worry coming over him as he realised you had been holed up alone for so long.

“Not since my mother died. She said the king was dangerous and that he would hurt me if he found me,” your bottom lip was wobbling and Fenrys quickly kissed it away, shushing you as it dawned on him just how innocent his little girl was.

“No baby, he’s gone now, the new king of Adarlan is a very kind man and the Queen of Terrasen is wonderful,” he promised, “Will you let me take you to meet them?”

You nodded enthusiastically, bouncing slightly in his lap making him groan. He nipped at your ear lobe and you squealed as he pushed you down. You could meet them another day, today he was too busy with his little mate.

[oingo233]

You Are Beautiful (1)

Summary: Sirius Black was entranced since the moment he saw you. He had to have you but you are convinced his feelings are fleeting, and will only hurt you. People inside and outside of your relationship meddle in the makings of something that could be beautiful... or disastrous. Will love and confidence win? Or will doubt and uncertainty tear you both down?

Young Sirius Black x Pus SizedFemReader

Warning: one inappropriate joke lol, fluff I suppose and nothing else really. All the real stuff comes later :0

Authors note: I mostly write my xreader fics as neutral but as this is a request, I wrote this as fem. But if anyone would like a male version or neutral version let me know and I will copy this but obviously change readers gender (and it's no burden to me I'd love to make more readers feel included and represented). Also reader is plus sized and she is confident and strong throughout the fic -because plus sized characters aren't represented like that in film/books alot (but if looking for amazing and empowering plus sized female characters Nina Zenik from Six of Crows owns my entire heart and changed how I saw myself personally and I would recommend that book for anyone really)- but as any human she has her insecurities because beauty standards are unattainable and have a way excluding so many people and making us feel less than beautiful. As a plus sized/overweight person myself, I understand how we have to fight to feel beautiful and fight this internalized bias we have when we look in the mirror. But WE ARE BEAUTIFUL. WE ARE WORTHY OF MAGAZINGE COVERS AND COMPLIMENTS AND ABOVE ALL SELF LOVE!! The self insert character in this has fought for her confidence, but it will shake and stumble throughout the series and Sirius and friends are there for her to help her realize for herself how beautiful she truly is, once again. So I hope I didn't stray too far from the request :) Enjoy....

Word Count: 1.8

Authors Note: About halfway through I decided to make it a series oops-

****Blabbering Idiot****

Sirius Black is a man of many, many words. In fact, I'm sure if he was writing this he could quickly turn it into one of the most entertaining novels ever written. He'd describe the laughter of his friends for a whole page. Tell a hilarious joke on the next. Then he'd describe the wind blowing through the open halls and courtyard and the spring sun. He could write about a great many things in great detail. (But he wouldn't because he doesn't quite enjoy writing as much as he does anything else, but that's above the point.)

As I said, Sirius Black is a man of many words. So it was such a curious thing when he first saw you. It was an astounding thing really, because for the first time he found something that rendered him completely speechless.

The sun was peeking through the open corridor and pooled onto you, caressing your skin and hair in an ethereal glow. Highlighting curves that brought both sinful and sweet thoughts running through him. It was as if the universe was telling him, look at what we've created, look at this beautiful creature. But he could hardly believe that this world could create something so lovely and kind. You threw your head back in laughter at something your friend said and suddenly the world is back to normal and all he can hear is your laughter and the sound of his friends curiosity at what could have possibly kept him from the conversation about muggle rock compared to Wizard bands. In fact, James was so passionate about it half the hall turned to listen to his rendition of The Chain by Fleetwood Mac.

But he didn't care, he took a feeble step towards you and suddenly felt so nervous his hands began to sweat. He stuttered and coughed up his words just for a simple "hello" in your direction only for the wind blowing through the halls to carry it away. And his friends laughed at him as he watched you walk too far from where he wanted you. Because, oh did he want you.

Sirus POV:

"I'm telling you, I won't be able to sleep tonight unless I know who she is," Sirius says for not the first time that evening. James started to laugh.

"Why? Because you'll be too busy thinking of her?" James said, laughing as he made a very suggestive hand motion. Peter cackled and Remus rolled his eyes, trying to find the cleaner side of his humor but instead he couldn't help but snort. Sirius pushed James's shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm sure Lily would love to know how familiar with that feeling you are," Sirius says and James stopped laughing immediately, his eyes narrowed.

"Please, you wouldn't dare. And I will deny all accusations, you'll be made out to be a liar. Then the mystery girl will never love you. Is that what you want, Pads?" James joked with a single arch of his brow. Sirius just rolled his eyes. He was only half paying attention, he has been scouring the hallways since he first saw that girl. He wanted to speak to her again, or maybe just stare for a bit. If things went well, he'd be able to do both those things on a date. But he hasn't seen her since that morning and his heart felt oddly shallow. He wanted those butterflies he had when looking at her to come back and overwhelm him again.

"What'll it matter if I don't even know who she is? Or- or if I can't talk to her? No one falls in love with a blabbering idiot," Sirius says. Remus shrugs.

"Lily fell in love with James," he says, Peter laughed again.

"Yeah, regardless of what he does at night," Peter added and now both James and Sirius were rolling their eyes. James and Lily just recently stopped denying their feelings for one another and gave into the sexual tension and mutual pining. Their relationship was still fairly new but they act as if they've been together for years. Sirius supposed that in a way, they have been.

Sirius would watch them giggling, hand and hand in the hall. He'd see them cuddling in the common room, or coming back after dates with rosy cheeks and beaming smiles. Sirius would never admit it out loud, but his heart cried out when he saw them like that. He rarely ever felt lonely. He could have any girl or boy he wanted if he really tried, but for what? One fun night? Only for one more morning where he wakes up alone? He wanted more than that whenever he saw Lily and James, their happiness was palpable. Their love was suffocating.

Sirius always thought he'd find the one after Hogwarts, if at all. But when he saw her... well that changed everything. In a flash he saw himself with her, their hands intertwined and her head thrown back in laughter. Rosy cheeks and bruised lips. Warm beds and making love... being in love. He nearly felt silly after and yet, he knew that even if he did sleep tonight, it would be her he'd dream of.

"Ello' guys!" Lily said, bouncing up to James who kissed her cheek. They walked with their arms looped and Sirius glared at the easy sign of affection. He thought of his parents, how they would be stiff with one another except for in quiet moments, when he'd pass through a hall and glance into their room. He'd spot a quick kiss on the cheek, and soft squeeze of the hand. It were those odd moments for him, that struck him so strongly with a sharp bitterness. They don't deserve softness and love, he'd think, how can such cruel creatures even feel such things? But even then, he'd walk away seeing them as still awful creatures born from the depths of hell, but more human.

"That's her," Sirius whispered so quietly Remus almost didn't hear it. In fact, Sirius didn’t think Remus heard it at all, but it was rather his look of longing towards the Great Hall entrance that gave him away. Because standing right there, was you.

Your hair was a little wind blown, messy around your face, bits of iit shaped your round cheeks and soft eyes. Sirius eyed you up and down and cursed clothes and cursed shyness and cursed his own head for thinking he could even talk to you. But most of all, he cursed a group of boys who walked past you.

Sirius was a confident boy, he knew how to spot someone who held their head up just as high as he did, and you were very much one of those people. You were giggling as you stole a biscuit from a friend and popped it into your mouth, you covered your mouth as you laughed when they complained with a little smile of their own.

"It's just so yummy, and I haven't eaten since breakfast." He heard you say, your friend just shook his head and handed you a plate as you sat down next to him. But right before you could get comfortable a sneering group of boys stole a piece of food from your hand and said something rather rude.

Sirius didn't even realize he had been walking towards you, this girl he has never even spoken too, yet thought of so endearingly, until he was standing right before the boys and had the pack leaders wrist firmly in his grip.

"Drop it boy, c'mon, drop it," he teased. It was humiliating for the boy and he knew it by the laughing and sneering others directed towards the group of boys, but Sirius did not care. The boy dropped the biscuit and looked as if his tail was tucked into his legs. "Good boy," he said, ruffling his hair until it was a knotted mess, the boy winced at just how hard Sirius dug his knuckles into his scalp, Sirius relented with a satisfied smirk.

Sirius’s voice took on a much harsher tone, "Now scram." The boys were out of their seats and in new ones within seconds.

Sirius felt his mood shift completely once they left, because now all eyes were on him, yours included. He looked up at you rather shyly, his hair falling in strands over his forehead. He tucked it behind his ear and found some confidence in the way your eyes followed the movement and how you blushed. He gave you his best smile, hoping his charm wasn't as weak as his legs felt at that moment.

"Hello, I'm Sirius... Sirius Black." Then, like an idiot he put his hand out for you to shake, what charmer just shakes the ladies hand? He stopped belittling himself the moment you softly placed your hand in his.

"It's nice to meet you, Sirius, and thanks for helping me. I know how to handle those filthy 'dogs'" you said, smiling as you remembered the way he spoke to them, he chuckled. "But I suppose it's nice not always having to," you finished with a bright smile on your face. He felt his own cheeks heat up and he nodded but could not think of anything better to say.

"Name," he said, you raised your brows. He cleared his throat, "your name?"

"Oh, how rude of me," you said and then you laughed, that same laugh that caught his attention and has yet to let go. "I'm (y/n) (y/l/n)."

"Nice to meet you," he said, it was as if he couldn't feel the appalled stares of your friends because all he could see was the blush on your cheeks and your head thrown back in laughter. He swallowed thickly before making his way back to his friends. They all wore raised brows and smirks, and he knew they were about to bite into him.

"Treating them like dogs, really? A bit ironic don't you think," Lily said, James shrugged

"That's why it was so good," he said, high fiving Sirius.

"But it admittedly went downhill from there," Peter was sure to add, just like Sirius knew one of them would. Sirius just laughed, too elated to finally know who you were.

"Don't start," he said, but it was too late.

All in union they sputtered out the lame word that will plague Sirius' memory of that moment forever, "Name?"

They cackled at him and ruffled his hair all the way to their seats, but Sirius knew they were pleased for him. And Sirius didn't mind, he could feel the pretty eyes of a pretty girl following him across the room. If only someone told him how important she would become to him, maybe he would have looked back at her and never looked away.

Taglist <3

@enchantedblackrose

[scpeen-l0l]

Hi! I was wondering if your could do a scp-035 x scientist!reader fix where the they’re in the middle an interview, and a containment breach suddenly happens

ahhh, i’m not entirely sure if this is what you had in mind. but anyways, thank you so much for requesting!! you’re the first on this blog and while writing this i got another! man i’m so happy ahah

(i forgot to tag this when it was first posted lol)

---

1.5k words

‘easy prey’

You’ve always had mixed feelings on 035. Since the very first day you were assigned to them, you felt their infamous ‘lure’ that they were known to have. Despite that, you liked to think of yourself as resilient, so you were able to just bury yourself in work and deny any sort of weird attraction you had to the mask. Of course, 035 had picked up on the behavior that they had seen countless times in the past, much to your dismay.

Your supervisor told you that you would be interviewing 035 with the routine set of questions in a few days’ time. When you queried as politely as possible to why you were assigned to interview them this time over the usual interviewer, your supervisor handed you a page of the transcript of their most recent interview, with a section highlighted in yellow.

 //PAGE 2//

08/08/██

SCP#: SCP-035

Class: Keter

Interviewer: Warren, [REDACTED] (Sr. Researcher)

  SCP-035: Mhm… Hey, what are the odds of that new researcher coming into my cell anytime soon?

[Dr. Warren pauses for a moment, before looking at their host’s hands.]

Warren: Which one? Dr. L/n or Dr. Ahmad?

SCP-035: The younger one. Yes, I’d like to have a chat.

Warren: Why?

[SCP-035 throws its head back before resting its chin on its intertwined hands.]

SCP-035: Since when have you started recruiting people that young? I simply want to ask them about it.

Warren: Stop it, 035. Be more specific.

[SCP-035 lets out an exaggerated sigh]

SCP-035: Why can’t a mask just have a regular talk with a researcher? All I want is a friendly chat! Besides, you’d get some free time whilst we’re busy…

Warren: If we do allow you to converse, you will only be allowed 30 minutes maximum with routine questions.

[SCP-035 laughs]

SCP-035: That’d be grand. Well, what’s on your mind today?

  Your heart was beating out of your chest, fear coursing through your body. Your supervisor coughed to get your attention, to which you could only nod your head slowly to, it wasn’t like you really had a choice. Still, what did it want from you?

You didn’t get much sleep that night, to say the least.

 When the fabled day finally arrived, you were an absolute wreck. All of your confidence flew out the window and left you with sweaty palms and a looming feeling of dread. The walk to the mask’s cell was long and unnerving, the adrenaline was putting you on edge. You weren’t usually like this, but your fears got the best of you. What if they convinced you to wear them? What then? Regardless, you’d be dead either way. You cursed yourself for being a nervous wreck at the worst time, so you headed to the closest empty room you could find.

You found yourself in a break room after a few minutes of searching, the missioning around the facility already clearing out your mind. You rubbed your temples, psyching yourself up. If you did eventually become a host for the mask, you sure as hell weren’t going to make it easy. With a small pep in your step, you finally approached the area containing 035.

Warren was talking with your supervisor, just about to leave when he saw you walk in. A forced smile made its way to his face as he approached you.

“Pleasure formally meeting you, L/n.”

“Same here. Do you have a spare copy- “

Warren handed you a file, “here, make sure to stay on topic as much as possible. Oh, and the second you feel like putting him on or anything of the sort, press the panic button next to the microphone on the table.”

Him?

You nodded, reassured that you had a sure-fire way to get out. “Thanks. Do I… go in now?”

Warren turned to your supervisor, Dr. Patel, whom only nodded in response. Dry, as always. You sucked in a deep breath before checking your phone for the time, 9am on the dot. A good time to die, you thought, before a guard ushered you into 035’s cell. A male D-Class with 035 on his face looked to you and tilted his head.

You knew you didn’t look the most assertive, or dominant but you were resilient. That’s all you had going into that interview, you told yourself.

Sitting down and laying out the documents inside the file on the table, you looked back at the group of staff behind you. McAllistor, the technician, gave you a comforting smile; Warren was already out the door; Dr. Ahmad looked away awkwardly; Dr. Patel was typing away on his computer and you could see the side of a guard’s visor at the corner of the observation window. Huh, a little understaffed today. Were they the last people you’d ever see? Perhaps. Alas, you had a job to do, and you were going to do it damn well, if it was the last thing you ever did.

  //RECORDING STARTED//

L/n: Hello, 035. Ready to start?

SCP-035: Of course.

 Ooh, that voice- Did it always sound so… Smooth?

 L/n: Well, let’s get through these questions quickly.

SCP-035: Aw, I was hoping to get to know you a little better first.

L/n: Maybe another time. How would you describe your emotions today?

 Deflect, deflect.

 SCP-035: Admittedly, a little upset that you’re being so stiff with me. I rarely speak to anyone else other than [REDACTED], who’s gone off who-knows-where. Ooh, probably with his assistant- You wanna hear about that?

L/n: Uh, so you feel upset that you can’t speak with me-

 Shit. That threw you off.

SCP-035: Indeed, would you help me with that? Pretty please? You look like you need a break, you know. Look at those bags under your eyes!

 No, you weren’t going to let him get under your skin that easily.

 L/n: Apologies, 035, if my appearance is sub-par— However, I am incredibly committed to my job and I-

SCP-035: Blah, blah. Cut the canned crap. You can speak to me about it, you know, I’m a great listener.

L/n: I will be the one listening today, 035. Now-

SCP-035: You say-

L/n: 035! Stop speaking over me, unless you want this interview to be terminated?

 Assertive, dominant.

 SCP-035: Ah, of course not. I was out of line, I am sincerely sorry, dear.

L/n: It’s- It’s fine, where were we? Oh, here, I- Um…

 Nevermind. How did he manage to make you feel bad? Stupid mask, getting in your head…

 L/n: Uh, how would you describe your intentions as of late?

SCP-035: Nothing dangerous, I simply long for the stage, you know? I just miss the atmosphere! The joy! Oh, what I would do to even just watch another showing…

L/n: Thank you for not evading that question, 035. But, ah, I’m sure if you behave you’d get to-

//CONNECTION LOST//

  The breach alarms went off, making you jump out of your seat. Looking back to the observation window, you saw all the scientists being escorted out of the room by the guards. You rushed to the door…

Locked.

Slowly turning back to 035, you gave him the dirtiest glare that you could muster.

 “Unlock it. Now.”

“You know, I liked the more quiet, sweet, meek version of you-“

You mockingly mimicked his tone, “you know, I don’t give a shit. I’m not putting you on. You’ve already got a host, just leave me alone!”

“Oh, but you’re so intelligent, so innocent… Face it, you’re dead either way. There’s no way you’re making it out alive, I’ll be merciful and make it painless. Wear me, and I’ll ensure that your body gets some good mileage.”

 A small part of you was tempted to take his offer, but the rest of you was only willing to admit he was right. What chance did you have without an armed guard? You slouched, fear settling in.

“Come on…”

You felt a weight on your right shoulder. You could see his hand in the corner of your vision, but, it was cold. Long dead. You didn’t want that for yourself.

Aggressively sliding your keycard in the scanner, you bolted out the cell and grabbed the handgun on the desk.

 You let out a humourless laugh, “yeah, no. I think I’m fine.”

035 walked out his cell, scoffing as he looked at the gun in your hands, “what’s that gonna do? Is that peashooter gonna scare 106 away, huh? How many bullets are in that thing, if any?”

Biting your lip, you whined, “ahah, um, yeah… Look,” you debated internally whether you should try bargaining with this thing, “I’m not going to put you on, however, I’m willing to… cooperate in order for us to reach our separate goals. I have a level 3 keycard, which I can hand to you once I find the safety shelter. Try anything funny and I’m snapping the keycard in half.”

 035 laughed, “ok, maybe I was wrong about tough and cold L/n. Sure, we can work together, but good luck trying to resist me. I can tell you’re already a bit enchanted already!”

You snorted, “yeah, yeah. Suuuuure… Alright, you promise to keep me safe whilst I navigate through the site?”

“I assure you.”

 A part of you felt fuzzy. Damn, he was right about you already being charmed by him. Maybe… No, you weren’t going to give in. You’re using him as much as he’s using you. Right?

 “Guess I was wrong about you being an easy host.” He mumbled.

“You what?”

[sparklingchan]

The Prince and I || Jeong Yunho(Ateez)

Pairing : Reader (fem.) x Yunho.

Word count : 9.2k+

Warnings : Cuss words, minor injuries, Yunho BEING A FLUFFBALL!!

Genre : Fluff, angst, Arranged marriage au, Royal au.

Description : Your marriage to Prince Yunho feels like nothing less than a fairytale - but a fairytale is incomplete without a villain, right?

A/N:  This fic took longer than I thought it would lol  

This is a part of the holiday treats event conducted by kafenetwork.          This fic is for the lovely Anna! I hope you like it and I hope it didn’t disappoint. I’m sorry I cannot tag you here because this site always decides to eat up my posts with tags in it :((

Enjoy!

"This wedding dress is a little expensive, granny."

The silky cloth slips away from in between your fingers, as quick as sand. You hadn't ever touched a piece of cloth as beautiful and smooth as this one, really. In fact, you'd never ever seen anything like the dress presented before you at the moment. And well, as much as you want to buy it, you knew you couldn't. Not unless you use up all your life's savings.

"I'm sure Ms. Claire here could find us something less...royal." you mutter again when your Grandmother doesn't respond.

Ms. Claire, the owner of the elegant boutique you find yourself standing in this morning, smiles at you sheepishly. "Oh, what nonsense! You will be married into a royal family, y/n. I cannot have you wear a normal wedding dress."

You sigh, turning away from the mannequin that donnes your dream wedding dress and crouching down to speak to your granny, "Granny, we won't have any money left if we buy this."

Your grandmother has been in the wheel chair for as long as you could remember. But she has more energy and life in her than most young people out there, including you. She's like this ball of sunshine who adores you to death. And now that the most important event of your life is slowly coming close with every passing day, you find her enthusiasm increasing likewise. She would wake up every morning and coax you to work out and do your skin care routine every night before bed. Today too, she forced you to allow her to tag along on your last shopping trip before your big day. Though you never say it out loud, your grandmother is nothing short of an angle. And you'd do anything to make her happy.

"I have saved up enough money to buy three such dresses, y/n." Your grandmother says as you lean down , "Miss Claire, pack this one up please."

Miss Claire nods and smiles at your granny, "Surely, madam."

Her assistant takes away the mannequin to get it packed up and billed.

You sit on the small couch present in the room as your eyes roam around the room full of pretty dresses and veils and shoes. It feels surreal all of a sudden, as if you were in a day dream you'd often think about as a teenager.

"What? Do you want anything else? I have enough money for that too." Your grandmother chimes in, rolling the wheelchair a little towards you, "Should we buy one for your mom too?"

Your mom, though equally excited for your wedding as your grandmother, was more on the realistic side. She'd give you a reality check ever so often - about husbands and in-laws and everything surrounding it. You're also not very sure your mom would appreciate spending so much money on dresses in a single day, especially when your wedding stands only four days away.

"No, granny, mom has enough dresses." You run a soothing hand through her grey and thin hair, "Aren't you tired? We've been out for a long time now."

"Do I look tired to you? " she raises an eyebrow, her eyes wrinkling up as she smiles at you sweetly. She's such an adorable little woman that it makes your heart melt everytime she looks at you.

"No," you roll your eyes, "Guess we can go and pick up Maya's dress while we're at it."

"Maya as in your best friend? The annoyingly loud girl from your college?" You snort at your granny's choice of words to describe your best friend.

You hear Miss Claire call you towards the payment counter and before you could move a finger, your granny races you to it.

"Come on, girl, what are you- eighty?" She teases you with a loud chuckle.

And still, you may not say it out loud , but your granny is your whole world. And when you are married off into the royal family of your father's old hometown, the only person you'll miss badly is probably your sweet old grandmother.

Later that evening, after dropping your grandma back home, you decide to walk to your best friend's apartment which is located just a few blocks away from yours. You carry her dress with you but deep down, you know that's not the only reason as to why you wanted to visit her this late at night.

"I need advice. "

"About what?"

"Marriage and life. "

Your best friend's eyes widen at your words. Her lips part as if she wanted to comment something but then stopped herself. "Maya, dude please. I'm terribly scared and I can't talk to anyone else at home." You admit, playing with the hem of your dress. A sudden sense of embarrassment and shyness washes over you but you push all that away before they get the best of you.

Maya puts down her dress on the bed.

"Y/n, I could give you all the advice in the world but believe me, you won't be able to apply it practically. I married a normal man from a normal family. We live in a cozy apartment in a city. But for you, it's different. You'll not marry a common person- you're marrying a prince for God's sake. A Crown Prince on top of that. You'll be living in a castle far away in the mountains. I don't know how my advice would be of any help here, y/n." Maya says, her hand gently patting yours.

You shift in your place, the bed creaking softly beneath you.

Maya is unarguably right - her advice won't be useful in your case. In fact, no one's advice would be useful to you unless they've had a first hand experience with an arranged marriage and a royal life. Yet these facts do little to comfort your growing fear and anxiousness.

"I haven't even met him in person yet. I only saw him over a few stupid video calls and in his pictures. I don't know what to expect." You say.

His Highness Crown Prince Yunho is a pretty busy man it turns out. So busy that he hasn't even been able to take some time out of his duties and come visit his fiancé for a few hours. He's a beautiful man, you have to say. Elegant and stylish and well mannered and everything about him screams Royal. He often texts you in his free time and calls you once in a blue moon. He seems like a nice man indeed, the kind you'd love to marry even without his royal heritage. But being his wife and a Crown Princess is a challenge you'd have to face completely on your own.

"Your granny thinks he's a good man, y/n. Maybe you should trust her judgement. Old people have that in themselves, you know." Maya says with a small smile, "Plus he's a Prince. You'll live a luxurious life, y/n. Don't be so pessimistic! I'm sure things will turn out great."

You give your best friend a tight hug for trying to cheer you up and helping you forget your fears even if it's just for a few hours . That night, as you toss and turn in your bed, trying to keep your mind free from thoughts about your life after marriage, you realise how big of a change this one thing will make.

And you're not very sure if you're ready for that change yet.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

The weather is quite pleasant today, the sun shining softly through the thin curtain of clouds and the humidity deciding to be a little forgiving today but too bad you're stuck inside your room, folding clothes and making sure all your necessities are packed in the luggage.

"Well, this is not how I expected my last day at home to turn out, " you complain to your mother who sits across from you on the bed, helping you pack your things, "But it is what it is, I guess."

Your mom chuckles, placing your folded clothes into huge black suitcase spread open on the floor. "This isn't bad. You're alone with your family and friend, what more do you need?"

A fancy Bachelorette party with your friends and a few male strippers didn't sound like a very appropriate response so you decide to just shake your head.

"Aren't you angry though? Even just a little bit?" She asks. You scowl at the unexpected, out of context question. You are scared and anxious and nervous but angry? Not at all.

"What do you mean? Why would I be angry?" You reply, crossing your arms in front of your chest, "I'm fine."

She sighs, momentarily pausing her actions to face you. Her eyes are a little moist, you notice, and her lips pressed into a sad line. "Your grandmother betrothed you to Prince Yunho when you guys were just nineteen. It is an arranged marriage, to a person you don't know and a family which holds so much power. She didn't give you freedom to choose your own partner. Aren't you angry about that?" She elaborates.

You feel a soft tug in your heart at her words. You've been so preoccupied with worrying about how you'd handle yourself after marriage that you never really thought about this. Even so, when you really think about it, you can't find it in yourself to be angry at your grandmother.

"Granny and Prince Yunho's grandmother were best friends, mom. They made a promise and I respect that. Plus granny never forced me to say yes. I did that on my own account. " you explain yourself, your hand slowly reaching over to squeeze your mom's shoulder, "Don't worry about me. I'll manage. I always do."

Its rather funny how you were the one needing assurance from Maya a few nights ago and here you are, repeating the same words of encouragement to your mother. A part of you is obviously still terrified of the future, but that's not your mom's problem to deal with. It's entirely yours.

Your mom sniffs, but a tear manages to roll down her cheek, "I'll miss having you around. Why couldn't she have arranged your marriage to a normal person who lived in the same city?"

And then it finally dawns on you. It really is your last day at home. Your last day in the city you so dearly loved, your last day in the house which has seen you grow from a little baby to a beautiful, young woman. It's your last day as y/n y/l/n, your parents' only child and your grandmother's favorite grandchild. Tomorrow, you would be a Princess, a wife, a person of political importance. And your heart breaks a little at the thought of never getting this life back again.

"Mom.." you mutter, your eyes tearing up as well. Words fall short when it comes to describing how much you'll miss everyone and everything here. Starting from your friends to your family to the smallest of decorative items in your room that you've managed to collect over the years. It's like a piece of you would just cease to exist. As the night grows darker and the day crosses over to the next one, you hold your mother close as the both of you let out the quietest of sobs and realise that this might be the last time she'd have you all to herself.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡   

The journey from your parents' old house to Prince Yunho's ancestral palace is short - not with respect to time but with respect to the fact that amidst tearful eyes and memory flashbacks, the car ride gives you little to no time to settle your hurricane of thoughts.

As your dad's car slowly pulls over in front of a huge black metal gate, you are welcomed with a view that seems right out of a fairytale. The Royal palace is located in the most beautiful locations you've ever been to, a place you never thought could exist in real life. It almost feels like you are in a dream. With the beautiful backdrop of lush green mountains in the back, the Palace stands tall on the foothills of the mountains. The pastel pink walls and the carefully carved window panes look ethereal with contrast to the tall black gates that securely surround the palace. A group of servants are rowed in front of the man main entrance, with warm smiles and trays full of welcome drinks.

But you're far too mesmerized by the place to bother consuming anything at the moment.

This place - this breathtakingly gorgeous palace with the biggest gardens and tallest fountains- would be your home. For a long time, home meant your crammed little apartment which always smelt like cinnamon and bread. It had no big gardens, no servants, no fountains but it was your home. Your safe place. You wonder if this place could ever feel like home.

"Geez, y/n, I'm so jealous." Maya whisper-squeals in your ear as the servants lead you inside, "Do you want to exchange husbands?"

You nudge her gently with your elbow, "Shut up. Or I'll have you thrown out."

You are made to walk through a quiet hallway that has a huge wooden door at the end. On both sides of the hallway, pictures and paintings and vintage weapons are displayed like in museums and the marble floor beneath you shines like water under the sun. Every nook and corner of this place is a treasure waiting to be discovered, you realise.

The servants open the wooden door and lead you inside into what appears to look like a Throne Room. Now, you'd never really been to one before but movies and books have taught you that this is what a Throne room probably looks like - with a Grand Throne placed at the very center and numerous chairs placed on either side of it. The walls in this room are graced with more pictures and paintings of kings and queens and common people and soldiers. You wonder if your picture would ever be up there somewhere in the future.

"Oh, hello lovely people!" A manly voice booms through the hall, "I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long."

A few quick taps of feet on the floor and there stands in front of you a very familiar face - as if you'd almost seen him in a dream.

Black tuxedo, perfectly styled hair, a walkie-talkie in his hand, the man before you looks right out of a James Bond movie. "I'm Choi San, Prince Yunho's personal secretary and the royal family's representative for the day."

He claps his hands together, "Her Highness the Queen Regent, Her Highness the Queen Mother and His Highness Crown Prince Yunho sadly couldn't be here since they have some important charity event to attend. I deeply apologize for that. In their place, allow me to welcome you to the Jeong family's Grand palace!"

"You'll all be taken to your rooms now because you must be tired from the journey. If you need anything, just tell one of these servants."

The servants nod at San and signal you and your family to follow them.

"Uh, lady Y/n. Mind if I have a word with you?" San interrupts.

Although surprised, you nod as you let your family walk off to their rooms.

"Yes?" You ask San.

San's eyes are focused on your frame - every movement, every expression, every word - he's observing you as if to make sure you're the right person for Prince Yunho. You feel self conscious all of a sudden.

"Yunho did say you're a charming person. I just didn't think I'd agree with him before, but now..I definitely do." San giggles, offering you his hand, "I'm Choi San at your service, madam. Your wish is my command."

You bow gently at him, "I'm y/n y/l/n. It's nice to meet you too, sir."

San chuckles, "Please don't call me that, your Highness. I'm your employee. Besides I have something important to talk to you about. "

The last few words form a tight knot in your stomach, fear finding it's way through your veins.

"Y-yeah?"

"You have a coronation ceremony tonight. I hope you know that. We've already hired a stylist who will take care of all you from now on. She'll meet you immediately after lunch." San explains, "And here's my business card. Contact me if anything comes up, okay?"

You gulp as you accept the shining business card from him, "Thanks. I'll do that."

San smiles sympathetically, as if he understood the fears swimming inside you. He offers you a gentle, encouraging pat on the shoulder.

"I know how you feel. A palace is a scary place, I won't deny. But if I can survive here, so can you. Plus you have Yunho. He's the nicest man a person could ever ask for, I'm sure." San says.

Your whole body relaxes a little as a soft breeze of comfort washes over you with the words leaving San's mouth. This is what you'd been wanting to hear for a long time - a reassurance that you'll be safe and okay as a member of the Royal family and that Prince Yunho might be a person you could love. But for now, you focus on keeping your self calm.

"Now, do you mind walking me to my room? I find myself a bit lost." You giggle.

San finds himself chuckling in response, "Of course, your majesty."

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

When San had told you that you'd have your own personal stylist, you did not expect this . Even in your wildest dreams, this is not something you'd catch yourself wanting.

The beautiful blue gown clutches to your upper body at just the right places and then flows down your waist like a beautiful waterfall under the sunlight. A diamond necklace graces your otherwise empty neck complimented with matching earrings. The stylist - Alisa - puts your hair up in a pretty bun and then places a beautiful diamond tiara on your head. And when your eyes finally land on your reflection in the mirror, your mouth hangs open with no words but just air slipping out of it as response.

"Do you like it, your Highness?" Alisa asks with hopeful eyes. Her shy smile giving away the fact that she wants you to like what she's done, her efforts and ideas.

You have to blink hard for a few more seconds before coming to terms with the fact that you look so beautiful right now. A part you is in denial while a part of you is jumping around, doing a victory dance in happiness. You weren't used to seeing yourself look this good. Your heart leaps at the thought of Prince Yunho seeing you like this - almost like a princess who's lived in castles all her life. And then you realize that you would be one ; in only a few minutes.

"I love it, Alisa. You're brilliant!" You exclaim, wrapping your arms tightly around the stylist in happiness. By Lisa's stiff response, you are sure you'd taken her by surprise. Royals do not go around hugging normal stylists yet this hug was a symbol of your thankfulness towards her for putting so much effort into you, to make you feel special. Alisa's proud smile reaches to her eyes as she quickly works on placing the brooch pin in the right place on your dress.

A knock on your room's door attracts your attention and you are quick to fix yourself in case it was someone from the Royal family.

"I'll get that." Alisa jogs quickly towards the door.

When the door creaks opens, you see a familiar face standing there - familiar enough to know it was your fiancé, the most handsome man you'd ever laid eyes on, with the kindest smile and brightest eyes. Your heart stops beating for a dangerous second.

"Oh, hello your Highness. " Alisa greets him, bowing slightly, "Miss y/n is ready to go."

And when Yunho looks at you, your soul as if escapes your body. "H-hi, Prince Yunho."

He walks towards you with warm, red cheeks and perfect black hair and a stylish black tuxedo and offers you his hand, "It's nice to finally meet you, my lady."

How does one ever respond to that? How does one ever behave in front of an actual, real life prince, who also happens to be your fiancé? He presses his lips to your fingers ever so gently.

The butterflies in your stomach go wild.

"Shall we go now? Everyone's waiting for you, my lady." He asks.

You nod, wrapping an arm around his, "Yes."

The short walk towards the throne room is mostly filled with a comfortable sense of silence, except for the times when Prince Yunho points at some random picture on the wall and talks about it. Your eyes seem to be following every movement of his, and everytime your eyes meet, you find yourself melting under his gaze. You are smitten by him and there's no denying in that.

On entering the throne room, all heads turn towards you - ministers, relatives, your family, Yunho's friends, San and all servants present there observe you as Yunho walks you down the flowery aisle leading to the Throne. You could feel everyone's eyes on you, scary yet exciting, they follow your every movement and every word and every expression.

And when they bow down slightly as you stand on the right side on the Throne, you realise these people weren't just bowing at Yunho, there were also bowing down at you. Because you'll be his wife tomorrow, a princess, a figure that should be loved by the people. The only thing keeping you grounded is Yunho's gentle hand softly clutching yours. It's as if he could sense your inner turmoil before even you do it yourself. "Are you nervous?" He whispers in your ear.

"Yes, a little. "

"Don't be. I'm here with you."

The main door to the hall opens and two women walk inside, at least ten soldiers walking in front and behind them, guns at ready and eyes critically scanning all the faces.

The older woman, who you assume to be the Queen Mother and Yunho's grandmother, wears a sweet smile and walks as gracefully as ever even in this senile age. She waves gleefully at the crowd bowing down to her. On her left stands a slightly younger woman, Yunho's aunt and the Queen Regent who has been the ruler of this kingdom after Yunho's parents passed away in a tragic accident ten years ago. Rumor has it that the Queen Regent is a strict, emotionless ruler who has no mercy for criminals and is harsh with all the employees of the palace. You notice her serious gaze fixed in your direction and shudder in fear even though you've barely ever talked to her before.

"May the Queen Mother live long! May the Queen Regent live long!" Someone chants and the others follow suit in the blink of an eye.

You suddenly feel as if you are in some period drama.

The Queen Regent takes her place on the throne while the Queen Mother takes a seat on the left side of the Throne. A single wave of the Queen Regent's hand and the crowd goes completely silent.

"Hello to everyone gathered here today. I am very, very glad to welcome a new member of the family - lady y/n y/l/n. She is to be the wife of my beloved nephew Yunho and the future Queen of this kingdom. Please give her a warm welcome!"

The hall erupts into claps and cheers and your name being repeated as if in a chant. Your grip on Yunho's arm tightens.

"I'm there, my lady." He says again, "Don't be afraid."

San brings out a huge sword and places it in the Queen Regent's hands. This sword is what you assume to be the Jeong family's old, sacred sword used by generations and generations of brave kings and queens to protect themselves as well as the citizens of their beloved country. This sword is a symbol of pride and victories. And a lost history.

"As per ancient traditions, I will now be crowning miss y/n as a princess before her wedding with the prince tomorrow. From now on she will be called her Highness Crown princess Y/n. She is an important member of our family from this day forth."

"Y/n, go on and kneel in front of my aunt." Yunho whispers, nodding at you with a proud smile, "You're doing so great already."

You comply by his words and kneel in front of the throne, your head hanging low and eyes squeezed shut with anxiousness of what is to come.

"Welcome to the family, y/n." You hear the Queen Regent's voice before she gently taps your right shoulder with the tip of the sword and then the left one. You feel a few droplets of water being sprinkled on your face.

"Rise, Crown Princess. Face your people and let them welcome you with open arms."

It is done. You are a princess now. This can never be undone, this name, this title will stick with you till the end of time. You're no longer a normal girl with small dreams and basic requirements, you're a future Queen now.

Rise, Crown Princess.

And you do.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Every person has dreamt about their own wedding at least once in their life - whether it is in the peak of their teenage or in the innocent wonders of their childhood or the wildest dreams of their adult years, this thought found itself in everyone's mind.

You had one such dream too.

But your dream had always been very simple. A nice man, your closest friends and family, a cheap and beautiful wedding dress, a small party with limited people - that is all you've ever wanted. You didn't want a gathering of four hundred people who you barely knew, the new reporters shoving their cameras into your face, heavy make up or expensive jewelry, or a husband who you barely knew. But guess that is what the Gods had written in your fate. And you have no option now than to accept things the way they are.

You don't remember much from the wedding ceremony or the huge party that follows, really ; you only remember Yunho's lips pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead when the priest asks the groom to kiss the bride(probably the best part of the day), your grandmother's tears of happiness and Alisa and San winking at the two of you after the ceremony was over. Everything else felt like a blur, as if your head had been underwater all this while.

An hour or so into the party, Prince Yunho asks you to walk with him. Alone. Though reluctant, how could you ever say no to those innocent eyes? The discomfort from being surrounded by hundreds of unknown people slowly disappears as the two of you walk around the garden, your eyes never meeting but a sense of familiarity settling between the two of you.

"I'm not used to this, you know." He says with a shy smile.

The sky is beautiful, decorated with stars and a full moon but nothing compares the glow on Yunho's face when he turns to glance at you.

"Used to what?" You enquire, "Having so many people here?"

He shakes his head, "No. I'm used to having a lot of people here. That's all I've ever seen. What I'm not used to is this. Having a partner or someone else live in my room with me."

"So...?"

"I'm happy about it. I really am. But I know you're new to this royal lifestyle and we barely even know each other that well but I hope you don't regret this marriage. Because I'm sure that I won't. " Yunho sighs, "And if you ever feel like it's not worth your time anymore, you are more than free to leave. Forget about everyone else, do what your heart says. "

The last phrase catches you off guard. It is very, very rare to find people who give you this sort of freedom in any arrangement. The fact that he opens up his thoughts to you makes your heart leap with happiness. And a little sadness too that he'd think you'd leave him so easily.

"Hey," you pat his arm, "I'm not leaving anytime soon. I promise. We made a vow, didn't we?"

Yunho blushes at your words, but under the bright moonlight it goes unnoticed by you.

"Do you mind if I hold your hand?" He suggests after a few seconds of silence.

The butterflies in your stomach are seemingly having the time of their life these past few days.

"I don't." You slide your hand into his and your fingers intertwine almost instantly. His warm palm presses against your cold one, bring a sense of comfort you never thought you'd ever experience. In the midst of a chaotic royal gathering and the paparazzi trying to sneak in through the gates, you and Yunho find a small world for yourselves that no one else can ever have access to.

And for the first time in months, you realise that this marriage might be worth more than what you thought it would be.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

You've always wondered what the people in royal palaces do. Do they spend all their time greeting the citizens and walking in the gardens? Do they keep dancing in the ballroom all the time? Or do they busy themselves with war conspiracies?

Sadly you realise that royal life sounds very exciting and extravagant only when you're not the one actually living a life like that. And this conclusion dawns on you only after ten days of the wedding.

The first week is packed with activities, alright. Visiting the common people and distant relatives and going to various public events. Your curiosity was at its peak till a few days ago, but now here you are, sitting on the edge of your soft bed, phone in lap and eyes drooping with sleepiness, wondering how to keep yourself occupied.

"Y/n?" The door creaks open as Yunho peeks inside shyly, "Can I come in?"

You nod, "It's your room, Yunho. You don't need my permission to enter."

"Oh, I was just making sure you weren't doing anything you didn't want me to see."

Oh. Your cheeks turn into crimson fruits as his words finally hit you.

"Anyway, I actually came to get my file. But I saw you sitting here. Are you bored?"

Are you? Heck, yes!

"Yes." You reply almost guiltily.

Chuckling, he leans down to press a loving kiss on top of your head, "Come on. I'll show you something."

You took pride in the fact that after only a week of staying here, you knew the palace fairly well. The corridors and paintings and artifacts and the workers weren't as foreign to you anymore. Yet the path Yunho takes you to seems weirdly unfamiliar.

Guess new surprises await everyday.

Soon enough, your steps halt in front of a huge wooden door labeled as ' library '.

Rows and rows of books welcome you the moment you step inside, Yunho leading the way into the most beautiful library you'd ever seen in your life. As always, paintings grace the wooden walls and a huge crystal chandelier hangs from the middle most point of the ceiling.

"Yunho...is this..what heaven looks like?"

The smell of old and new books hit your nostrils as you run a gentle hand over the book kept in the shelves, feeling the various materials of book covers brush past your fingertips.

"Maybe." Yunho responds with a grin.

Yunho's heart feels full with adoration and content at the sight of you dancing around the books shelves, gleefully taking notes of the books you plan to read on the days to come. Your eyes curl up into crescent moons as your toothy smile seems to have taken Yunho's breath away. Beautiful is what you look. Simple and elegant and so innocent.

All his life he's spent among royal people, people with political intentions and lots of money. But you make him feel differently. Being with you feels like a breath of fresh air for Yunho. And who wouldn't like that?

"Earth to Yunho." You click your fingers in front of his face after you catch him staring at you. Not that you didn't like it, but you had to do something before you turn into a mush before his eyes, "What are you thinking?"

"Oh, um..nothing." you. He was thinking about you, "How about I ask the workers to bring my office stuff over here? I can work here while you read. I don't want you to be alone."

A shameless grin plasters over your lips.

"I'd like that, Yunho. I'd like that very much. "

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

"How's the married life treating you?" Your granny asks you this question every damn time she decides to call you. 

And surprisingly somehow, you always answer positively to her query.

"Well, good. I think so at least. " you smile to yourself, remembering the soft kiss Yunho had placed on your head as he left for an official trip this morning. Even in your half asleep state, your cheeks had turned bright red, "Prince Yunho is a nice man. "

"Oh, of course he is! I wouldn't have asked you to marry him otherwise, you idiot." She yells at you although you know she's smiling through the phone, "Anyway, I can't talk for long today. I have a doctor's appointment so I'll need to dress up for that."

That comes as a surprise, "What? Are you sick ?"

"God, no. I'm not a weakling, okay? It's the regular check up. Don't worry." She says, "Bye now. "

The line goes silent.

Sighing, you put your phone down on the night stand. On times like this, when the room is too quiet and you are too lazy to walk out and talk to other people, you start missing home. A lot more than usual. Your house, though only consisting of four people was way too noisy from sunset till sundown and somehow, you'd gotten used to it. The quietness has yet to grow on you.

A slight knock on the door attracts your attention and you immediately allow whoever it is to come inside.

"Oh, Alisa. It's you!" You exclaim as relief washes over you on seeing a familiar face.

"Yes, your Highness. How have you been?" She bows down to you, "Are you able to adjust to this new life?"

"I've been okay, you could say. Still a little overwhelmed whenever I have to face people but I think I'm getting there." You laugh a little.

Alisa gives you an understanding nod, "I totally understand. But I'm glad you're feeling more comfortable. By the way, I came here to ask you if you wanted to visit my boutique in the town nearby. It's a new one and I wanted you to come see it before the inauguration. "

Your heart jumps at the offer. You remember back in your college days, you would often go shopping with Maya, especially on weekends. The two of you would wait for months for a sale or special offers because online shopping sometimes just doesn't do it for you. You smile, nostalgic, "I'd love to go."

"And then maybe we could go and eat in the pizzeria nearby. It serves the best pizza in the world, I swear."

This is just beyond tempting at this point, a literal trap to have you step out of the role of a royal Princess and embracing the careless city girl inside of you and who are you to keep her hidden for too long?

"What are we waiting for then?"

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Yunho surprises you every now and then.

On the outside, he is a strict man with the sharpest of brains and the most observant eyes. The title of being a crown prince sits heavy on his shoulders and with every passing day, the weight just get heavier.

On the contrary, the Yunho you get to see everyday is very different. Soft and cheerful and smiley, he's the literal embodiment of the sunshine and your heart doesn't seem to rest everytime you see him.

It must have been roughly a month since the wedding when he makes an impromptu plan of visiting your city and your parents' house since it had been a long time you last saw them.

"Heard you were going to your parents house?" You had gotten ready to go before Yunho did, so instead of sitting in your bedroom, you decided take a short walk outside in the gardens. And as you strolled around aimlessly among the flowers and bushes, deep in thoughts, you had come across the Queen Mother sitting by the water fountain.

"Yes, your majesty." You reply, rather intimated by her aura.

It's hard to accept sometimes that this person is best friends with your grandmother, when the both of them are as different from each other as the two poles! Your grandmother is the ever so sweet, smiling, supportive person. You would never see her angry or upset. But on the other hand, the Queen Mother is uptight, very quiet and rarely ever smiles. Just like her daughter, the Queen Regent. Maybe it's a royal thing but you're glad you don't have to see this serious side of Yunho on a daily basis.

"Good. The farther from here, the better." She mumbles.

You are alarmed at her words, "I'm sorry?"

She sighs, her walking sticking tapping the marble wall of the fountain, "Y/n, I adore you. I might not show it but I'm glad my grandson has someone like you to make his life less lonely. But you have to be careful. Not everyone is appreciative of a person of common birth being crowned as a Crown Princess. "

Fear slowly clutches you in its palms. You had gotten very occupied with Yunho and being a crown princess and making new friends, you admit. So occupied that you let your guard down. And the Queen Mother's words sound more like an advice than a threat.

"Should I be worried?" You ask, your skin going cold at the thought of someone actually wanting to hurt you.

"Not yet, no. But be very, very careful. You cannot trust anyone here. Not even me. The only person you can lean on is Yunho. Why? Because he might be as much in danger as you."

Have you ever seen how people start panicking when any sort of alarm goes off? Yeah, thats exactly how you feel at that moment.

"Y/n, let's go!" You hear Yunho call you from the front gate, already taking his seat inside his car.

You bow at the Queen Mother before jogging towards Yunho, your heart no longer into the trip as it were a few minutes ago.

Yet seeing your parents and granny after so long did comfort you.

They had prepared this small barbeque party in your backyard, your dad playing guitar and purposely singing badly to embarrass you while your mother shows Yunho your childhood pictures. And the food, oh, the food! The five star chefs from Yunho's palace could never replace this comfort food you had at your parents house. It might not be well decorated with garnishes or spices or fancy plates but it made you feel like everything will eventually be okay - which is exactly what you needed at the moment.

The entire evening you try hard to talk to Yunho but when your house is full of three excited adults, it is hard to do that. Around one am in the morning, you finally find yourself in your old bedroom, Yunho's fascinated eyes roaming around the room that feels like it were straight out of some teenage romance movie. Where in reality you'd honestly been too lazy to change the room's layout once you outgrew your teenage obsessions and interests.

"You seem to be liking my room a little too much. " you chuckle, scrolling aimlessly through your phone, your face partly squished into your favorite pillow.

The boyband posters, old polaroids from your school functions, romance novels stacked up neatly by the nightstand - all of this is as foreign to him as his palace is to you.

Yunho lies down beside you, still in awe of the room, "Yeah, it literally mirrors your personality. "

"How?"

"I can't explain it, you know," he clicks his tongue, "But everything in this room screams y/n. Like everything here is made only for you."

You raise your eyebrow at his words. He's very observant, that you've noticed, but the fact that he knows you this well in barely a month warms your heart.

"What about our bedroom in the palace? Is it not made for me?"

"Oh, it is. Of course it is. But you're staying there because you have to, right? Because we're married and all that." He replies.

"No, I'm not. I told you Yunho - I'm staying there because I want to." You say, now no longer in a mood to joke around.

Suddenly, the words from The Queen Mother swim back into your mind, as you start seeing her words in a completely different light.

Yunho has somehow always expressed how he is unable to believe your presence around him and how he acts like you're doing a favor by doing that. And you find yourself wondering if Yunho knows what she'd said to you. The danger that looms above both of your heads must not be as much of a secret to him than you thought it would be. So instead of confronting him, you decide to comfort him.

"We'll be fine, Yunho. " you drag your hand towards his, your body relaxing the moment he squeezes it back, "Both of us."

Yunho looks at you with love and desire clear in his eyes, his free hand slowly dragging towards your face. You could see it now- the loneliness from the loss of his parents and the negligence from his aunt and grandmother throughout his childhood still very much exists behind the mask of a happy prince. You do not know the language of royal people or politics but you do know the language of love and more than a stupid gold crown, he needs someone to love him. And thats exactly what you intend to do.

Was it too soon? You didn't care anymore. And you know for a fact that he didn't either.

You lean in close and press your forehead to his, "You're not alone anymore. Okay?"

You see him smile from your hooded gaze, your breath mixing with his in an intoxicating mixture. "Thank you, y/n. You have no idea how much I appreciate it."

And that in itself are a combination of words much more heavier than a simple 'I like you.'

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

"The Queen Regent wishes to see you."

San runs up to you the first thing the next morning, right after breakfast.

"Why?" You ask, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

You had a plan to accompany your granny and the Queen Mother to their small tea party in a nearby Farmhouse but you couldn't obviously say no to meeting the Queen Regent. Because well, she's the Queen.

"I don't know, your Highness. I try to stay away from her as much as possible but whenever our paths do cross, she always assigns some work to me." He whines, "Go on, I'll tell the Queen Mother that you're occupied. I will be heading out with Yunho right now anyway."

Shaking your head in annoyance, you make your way to the Queen Regent's office.

Her office smells like expensive cigars the moment you step inside, and the full ashtray on her table only feeds into your conclusions.

"You asked for me, your majesty?" You ask in a low voice.

When she looks up from writing in her journal, your heart skips a few beats in fear. Her eyes hold no resemblance to Yunho's angelic ones or even The Queen Mother's serious ones. They look like two deep, bottomless black holes that swallow everything and anything in its vicinity. Her long hair is tied in a braid and her lips quiver passively upon seeing you.

"Ah, yes." She replies, "Please have a seat."

You take the chair in front of her desk, uncomfortable at the close proximity between you and the one person who everyone tries to avoid.

"How are you?" She begins, closing her journal and keeping her pen inside the drawer, "How are things going with Yunho?"

"I'm good, thank you for asking. And yes, things are going well with Yunho."

Her question seems odd, but you let it pass.

"Okay. That's really great to hear. Anyway, I met your husband a little while ago. And he asked me to tell you that he intends to see you on the rooftop alone later tonight." She raises an eyebrow, a gentle smile playing on her lips, "Looks like he has a date planned."

Her words seem too far fetched to be true. Too unrealistic. Not the date part though, but the part where he specifically ask her to pass on the message to you. He could have easily asked San or Lisa or even told you in first person, so why would he choose the Queen Regent out of so many people when he you've barely seen him talk to her?

But you're a Crown Princess, and she's the Queen and you cannot question her. "Okay, I'll be there." You get up from your seat and bowing gently, "Thank you for letting me know, your majesty. By the way, did he mention what time I am to go ?"

"Oh um...Around seven in the evening?" She's fumbling on her words, and you're sure she's lying about something.

Still you suppress your doubts and walk back to your room, hoping to find the truth behind her words this evening at seven.

The entire day goes by in the blink of an eye, but to you it feels like an eternity. The curiosity has you sitting at the edge of your bed, ready to make a run for it if any danger ever comes your way.

Yunho, who was out with San for some official work has surprisingly not texted you today at all. And it only adds to your doubts of the Queen Regent being a liar.

And when night finally falls, you find yourself tense up more than you'd done the entire day.

The night is quiet, calm but beautiful and as you step into the terrace and the soft wind kisses your face, you almost believe the Queen Regent's words. Maybe Yunho did really plan a surprise date for you. Because this is everything that Yunho likes. A beautiful night and a company he loves.

The terrace stands high giving you a beautiful view of the entire palace complex, the gardens and everything beyond. And for a moment, your worries diminish as you step near the railing, inhaling the fresh air and you feel safe.

But, you see, that's where you are wrong. This imaginary cloud of safety that you'd thought was around you was never there in the first place. Since the first time you stepped into the palace, all eyes have been on you - on every action, every activity, every word. You'd always been swimming in a dangerous sea. One wrong move, and you realise the shark is right behind you. And just how the Queen Mother had told you, you were only ever safe with Yunho by your side. But he isn't here anymore.

So it doesn't come as a when a pair of rough hands give you a single, harsh push, sending you falling right down five floors.

"You will never be our queen." Is what you hear before your vision dissolves into a black hole.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

When you were six years old, you fell down your bike once while trying to copy some stupid stunt you'd seen people on television shows do. The excruciating pain that followed the fall was something which you thought you'd never have to experience again. That was the kind of pain which hurts you down to your very bones, sending waves of shock through your body with a single movement of your hands.

And that is exactly how you expect to feel the moment you open your eyes and come face to face with a familiar ceiling. But all you feel is sore, like how you feel the morning after exercising after a long while.

The bandages on your arms and abdomen indicate that your fall wasn't as bad as you thought it'd be but it was, nevertheless, a fall which was very much done on purpose.

"Y/n, honey, are you awake?" You hear Yunho's groggy voice coming from somewhere near the foot of the bed you lie on.

"Y-yeah. What happened?" You manage to sit up even though your body feels heavy with fatigue, "How did I fall?"

Yunho appears by your bed side in the blink of an eye and your heart clenches with relief when he bends down to kiss your head.

It feels like you hadn't seen him in days, years, where as it had only been around two days since you passed out. Yunho had rushed back home the moment he found out about it, leaving all his stupid official work for some other day. Hell, he would happily give up all his responsibilities if it means he could see you and keep you safe. He'd cried for nights and days, never leaving your side even when the nurses would change your clothes or bandage dressing. The mere thought of you never waking up again was too dark for him, especially when he'd found such a happy place in you. You are the owner of his heart and everything else that he could give you. You are, literally, his only family member. His whole world. And if he loses you, he would lose himself with you.

"A-are you okay?" He sits down on the bed, holding your hand so tight as if he was afraid you'd disappear if he let's go, "does it hurt anywhere?"

"Just a little bit, but I'm okay. I feel fine." You say, smiling through your busted lips.

Your smile as if breaks a wall he'd been holding onto for days, and his eyes immediately tear up.

"I'm so so sorry, y/n. I should have been there. I should have been protecting you. I keep forgetting I'm not a stupid guy with a normal life and that people I associate with might get into trouble anytime. I'm so sorry, I should have protected you from my Aunt and Alisa. I'm so fucking sorry."

Aunt? And Alisa? What is he taking about?

"Yunho, what are you -"

"They planned it. The entire thing. They purposely sent me and grandma away so no one would doubt them. Aunt had supposedly promised my hand in marriage to Alisa a long time ago but Grandma got us married instead. They were angry. So angry that they went ahead and tried to k-kill you. " he sobs into his hands, the tip of his nose turning bright red, "Alisa was the one who pushed you. They forgot to remove the CCTV footage."

You freeze for a second, Alisa's betrayal hurting you worse than The Queen Regent's. You almost thought you could find a friend in her, just like Maya. You trusted her. You felt safe around her when in reality, she'd only been a time bomb - waiting to blow up.

"Alisa did?" You mutter, your lips drying with fear, "I-I don't know what to say. Yunho, I- I can't believe Alisa would do this."

"I didn't either. But both of them have admitted to it. The police took them. I'm so sorry, y/n. " Yunho rubs his tears away, "I talked to your granny and parents. They said you could move back in with them. The divorce will take about a year or so to get finalized but you don't have to stay here till then. You can go back home whenever you want."

Your heart crushes in your chest. The fear of abandonment Yunho carries within himself yet he has the guts to let you go is something you would forever admire and hate in him. How could he think this way, especially after you've reassured him countless number of times that you're here to stay.

"I didn't agree to a divorce. What the fuck are you even cooking up in that mind of yours?" You say, stern and angry.

He looks up at you, his guilty eyes making the pain in your chest more painful.

"Y/n, please, you cannot stay with -"

"Shut up. Just shut up. I don't care. I don't care what you think. I am an adult and the crown princess of this kingdom and I will do as I please. " you almost yell, "I am staying here, with you, for better or worse. I told you I wouldn't leave. "

Yunho bursts into tears, wrapping his arms gently around you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck as you gently pat his back, reassuring him that you'd always stay. No matter what.

"Y-you might get hurt again, y/n. I don't want you to stay and get hurt again." But his tight hold on your body tells you otherwise.

"We're both in danger for the rest of our lives. Does that mean we stop living?" You whisper, pulling away from the embrace only to grab his chin, "Does that mean we stop loving?"

He shakes his head as his lips curve down and a shaky sob escapes his mouth, "Nothing will ever happen to you again, I swear. I will keep you safe. You will not have a reason to complain again."

You nod, dabbing his tears away with your thumb, "I know. I believe you. "

You stare into his eyes - his beautiful eyes made of the finest stardust that make your brain go hazy every morning that you wake up and find them right beside you. And that's exactly how you choose to wake up every morning till the end of your days.

"Is this the part where we kiss or what, because I've waited a long time -" he cuts your blabbering off by finally placing his plump, peachy lips on yours ever so tenderly.

He steals all the air from lungs, driving you breathless and crazy with every movement of his lips on yours and the gentle touch of his fingers on your face only adds to the unbounded euphoria you feel at the moment. He's beautiful. Even with your eyes closed, you know that he is beautiful. And not just with his face, he is a beautiful man inside out. He is yours and nothing in this world can ever change that. So when he pulls away, panting and out of breath, and gently kisses your forehead, you say, "I love you, my prince."

These words. These damn words that he'd waited for months to hear, nights he spent dreaming about hearing them. And he has to mentally slap himself to make himself believe this all to be true.

Stealing a quick kiss from your lips again, he whispers, "I love you, too, my princess. "

[djarrex]

Hi everyone, just wanted to address what happened last night along with some other things from before that all tie in together.

There’s multiple parts to the following post - please make sure you read all of it if you’re gonna take the time to even start.

It was midnight and y'all were still jumping in on anon and telling me how I'm awful for not commenting, owning up, or taking responsibility - I should have been in bed. I have a life and job outside this app; and with the several of you in my inbox and it being too late at night to address each, I’m gonna do it now. I can’t not say something about all of this. I just can’t keep quiet and ignore the problem - it’s not fair to you all. Deleting one post already has you guys even more riled up and all I wanted to do was offer something better than a “half-hearted apology” (it was very late at night when I wrote that very short apology, and wanted a redo tbh). 

I really didn't want to make a long post like this. I reached out to a select few on here because I care about them (there's more of you, but like I said, it was at the time after midnight and I was fucking exhausted). but I was being demanded for accountability. So here I am.

Allow me to be real with you all, if that's ok. If it's not, well, idk. First I wanna address all you anons, who, instead of speaking to me one on one about all this, want to criticize me and shame me and my writing when truthfully it feels like you haven't even read more than a handful of my work. I didn’t realize that I write the clones all the same way? That I always make them super aggressive and uncaring and dom? “you write every single clone as so dominant instead as unique individual men with their own personalities” Interesting. See, that right there tells me you haven't read nearly enough of my stuff for me to believe that's true. That's one accusation I absolutely will not back you on because I know it’s inaccurate - saying how I group the clones into some overly-aggressive, and uncaring category - that I always write all of them as mean in bed because they're men of color. And hey, if I do write rough smut - which yeah, it's out there and I write it, as do a lot of you - there are warnings at the beginning, aftercare, dialogue, reader sharing their feelings, and most importantly... consent between the two. That’s what warnings are for, so that you know what you’re going to be reading. That’s why I, as we all do, appreciate warnings listed at the tops of fics; honestly, write them sub or dom or switch or however you want but don’t come at me like that. I’m sorry if I'm coming across as rude because I'm usually not, I’m one of the nicest people you’ll meet, but I will not stand idly by while you chastise my writing (writing that is pretty much the same type of stuff a lot of you write & rb with the same characters) that you haven’t read enough of to back such claims.

Next: Sincerely, from the bottom of my heart,

I get it. Really, I do. I fully understand the problem of whitewashing in SW along with almost everywhere else, and I do not agree with it. It's a huge problem, and it needs to be rectified. Now just because I don't speak publicly about it and opt out of publicly shaming TBB, doesn't mean that I agree with what’s going on. Not everyone is comfortable with sharing their opinions on a subject, no matter what that subject is or which side they're on. You live and you learn when it comes to that. 

It has never been my intention to fetishize POC in my writing, which btw, the same people who are saying that it is my intention are the ones claiming I portray all of the clones as the same, aggressive men, lacking their individuality. It’s a claim that is simply not true, and I know I have followers on here to back me up on that. I know what I've written; how about you check it out and tell me that you don't see the words "soft" or "fluff" or "cuddling" or “gentle” or “tender” within my work linked in my ML. Clone character being a good partner and father? Tender love making? Holding each others faces in their hands? “We/you survived” sex? Taking care of their partner? Saying “I love you” to one another? Confirming the safe word and going slow at first? Oh my - riveting and harsh stuff - totally unacceptable.  

Now: My admittedly problematic writings of Rex + Zygerria,

I went into writing that rp fic totally unaware and unknowing of the true implications. For that, I sincerely apologize. When I posted the NSFW alphabet, that’s when I was called out on that rp fic - not when I first posted it. Which the timeline doesn’t matter, I know that, but it concerns me a little bit that no one spoke up about it sooner - letting me dig myself deeper into a hole that I didn’t realize I was inside of in the first place. I've apologized once, and I know that doesn't negate what happened; I acknowledged my mistake back then, but I suppose that wasn’t good enough. I had asked you, anon, to message me to give me guidance, to teach me on what to do about the fic - you stayed hidden. Well, respectfully, what the fuck? I know we're all adults but don't lecture me and avoid me when I’d literally reached out for guidance on how to properly rectify the issue. I fixed my wording in some of my fics (the things I’ve caught upon rereading them) because I recognized and more importantly learned about and from my mistakes along with the unintentional negative implications of how I wrote those characters. Some of y'all wanna tell me that I "haven't learned"? Who are you, my personal blog police? My professor? My life coach? Are you even my friend? If I'm wrong and haven't learned, then fucking educate me. I worked hard on that rp fic, just like I do with a majority of what I write, but it doesn’t matter because I will delete it knowing that it’s harmful to others and I apologize for inadvertently romanticizing slavery with what I wrote - it was unintentional, and I’m truly sorry to those who have been hurt by it. I know it’s wrong, and there’s no proper excuse for it. Can’t go back in time, but consider it gone now.

Since that first wakeup call, I’ve been working hard to ensure I avoid using certain words and ideas when describing the clones in my fics. If there’s still something you see that isn’t correct or is inappropriate, please tell me! Don’t hold it in but then jump on the “attack M” bandwagon. Private message me, or come peacefully off or on anon, there will be no hard feelings. I don’t mind being corrected when I make a mistake - that’s just part of life, we all make mistakes and we live and learn from them. Making mistakes doesn’t = scumbag human. When you hold your breath and choose not to take the time to guide me, and if I appear to still be making the same mistakes, well, idk. I’m telling you right now that I do not mind if you message me with the good intention of pushing me in the right direction. When you come at me with hostility on anon, well, no thank you. To the anons that came without rage: thank you! I read what you wrote, and I have a better understanding as to how my writing had hurt the lovely followers of mine, and tried to address as much as possible in this post. See, angry mob anons? It costs zero credits to be kind and offer up your thoughts and advice with a good heart. I’m not going to hate you or block you if you try to correct me. I don’t block unless you’re a snoopin’ minor. Just don’t hold a knife to my throat.

Now: Why did I delete the tags and then my response to that anon ask? 

Simply put: I felt awful. Deleting it doesn’t immediately mean I’m hiding from it and ignoring the issue. I wanted to come up with a better apology, explanation, whatever you wanna call it, because my followers deserve that. The ones who enjoy my work, the ones who interact, the ones who I call my friends, the ones who know that I’m a good person. Didn’t want to leave the tags/post floating around all night, giving more people time to sharpen their pitchforks and join the mob while I attempted to sleep. Trust me, I know saying that I had no ill intentions when tagging that post doesn’t make it better nor does it make it go away. I’m just trying to show you my point of view, that I knew immediately how I should not have tagged it that way, so that’s why I deleted them. I corrected my mistake. But y’all are too fucking quick I swear.

One more thing:

I know some of you who had called me out with the passive-aggressive inbox messages are still following me, and for what? You don’t like what I post, which is why one would follow another in the first place, so why bother sticking around? Do you feel like you need to police my blog? You want to be there the literal minute I make a mistake? I’m gonna turn off anon for a bit, so if you wanna discuss, message me. Just know that if you’re going to come at me with knives out, I probably won’t reply to you. 

To conclude:

I’m sorry. Truly sorry for the entire Rex + Zygerria outfit + slaver ordeal with both the fic from a while ago and then the tags from last night. We can’t go back in time; the only option is to correct past mistakes that are able to be corrected, and then move on with new knowledge that’ll aid in me working even harder to ensure my writing isn’t inappropriate or offensive, and doesn’t hurt my followers nor the characters I write for. I’m still going to write self-indulgent filth and fluff, post-order 66 Rex, and other misc shit. I enjoy writing fanfic, as I know a lot of you enjoy reading what I write and love to talk to me about it. I hope that this didn’t come off as me being a bitch, because I’m really not. I enjoy interacting with the handful of people on here that I’d call my friends, and I love reading your reactions and tags to my fics when you’re excited and/or horny (LOL). It’s just after lunch time where I’m at, so I hope you have a great rest of the day/night/morning whatever for wherever you are.  

<3 

M

[world-of-aus]

You’re My Mission One-shot Soul Mate AU!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 4,932

Warnings: violence, angst, fluff, here lies a twist

Author’s Note: Anything italicized is something occurring in the past! Here it is finally, i’ll be honest i’m not sure how i’m feeling about it but i decided to step out of a comfort zone and do a twist that i hope i made obvious enough. Literally last minute while i was editing i had the brilliant idea to change the ending and well, i hope it doesn't suck to bad lol. I hope you’ll enjoy it none the less, behind the screen coming out tomorrow!

You awoke with a pounding head; a pained groan fell from your lips as you tried to move your aching body. Panic seeped into you when you found you couldn't move your arms, pins and needles prickling at your fingers as you struggled with the ties that had you bound. You looked around with wide eyes, but there wasn’t much to make out in the dimly lit room. You scourged your hazy brain for something, anything to tell you how you had ended up here in this situation. Your eyes widened in horror.

You quickened your pace as you pushed yourself into the sea of bodies, you pushed against them as you tried to get away from his watchful eyes. You felt the coldness of his stare on you, watching you, studying you, much like the day before, he had only continued to draw closer as the week had passed. At first you had just thought you had stumbled upon the most mysterious man, with the most marvelous crystal blue eyes.  Though when you were walking through the minuscule isles of your streets corner market and bumped into him once more you had chalked it up to fate playing games. The third and fourth time had you biting your lip with nervousness, surely you would have seen this man before if he really did have the same schedule as you, unless, you had shaken your head of those thoughts, it couldn’t be. You had decided to swallow down your nerves and approach him on the fifth day, you hadn’t known he was there until you felt a chill run up your spine, the feel of eyes watching your every move as you ordered your favorite caffeinated drink from the overly friendly barista. Sure enough when you had handed your payment to the cashier, you chanced a glance over your shoulder to already find his gaze on yours, he had your breath catching in your throat.

You moved off stiffly to the side to allow the next customer to move up, you gazed away from the predatory eyes focusing on the baristas behind the bar, you took a deep breath deciding that you would go over to the mysterious man and confront him, in your mind there was simply no explanation for why he was always appearing in locations you had never seen him before. Your name was called and you took uneasy steps forward taking the warm cup from the smiling teen. Turning on your heel you steeled yourself as you made your way towards the man sitting in the middle of the local coffee house. Taking a breath, you found your words, “excuse me,” you voiced warmly, “ I feel like I've seen a lot  of you in places I've never seen you before, and maybe that’s just a coincidence, do I know you?” you questioned.

His eyes were locked on yours as he shook his head once, you swallowed fingers tapping on your Styrofoam cup nervously.  

“are you-” you paused, “are you following me?” you questioned voice dropping.

Your nearly dropped the hot drink in your hands when his head nodded once, rather than questioning him any further you probably did the last thing you should have done, you ran. Your heart was racing in your chest as you raced out the doors and onto the busy streets. You looked behind you with wide eyes to see he was feet away. You quickened your pace, continuing to push through the crowds, eventually the crowd thinned the closer you got to home. You didn’t dare chance a glance back over your shoulder, you already knew he would be there. With a thrumming heart you continued to push forward, the heels of your ankle high boots thumping against the cemented side walk. If you strained your ears enough you could hear the pair of feet trailing you.

You were still another 3 blocks from your home, you began to grow desperate as the people on the streets became fewer and fewer. You did what could be described as your next biggest mistake, the one that was going to do you in. You ran, and in your hurry to get away from him you truly weren't thinking, and you ran into an alleyway, a choked sob fell from your lips as your hit a dead end. You baked away from the stoned brick, silent tears fell from your eyes, a silent gasp fell from your lips when you backed into something hard behind you. Turning ever so slowly, you looked up with wide eyes, your mouth fell open in a scream but nothing ever came as the world around you went black.

The sound of a steel door slamming had you jumping in the wooden chair you had been bound too. You waited with baited breath as you heard heavy footsteps approach you. He appeared under the single industrial pendant light. His eyes were set, jaw stiff, nostrils flaring as he looked you over, your body tensed when they landed on the knife in his hands.

“You know, you almost had me thinking I had gone after the wrong person,” he grunted.

Your eyes widened slightly, a look of horror coming over your features, “i don’t even know who you are, what do you want?” you whimpered.

His jaw clenched, “cut the shit and drop the façade y/n, it's just me and you,”  

You quivered in your chair, “i- I don’t know what you’re talking about, how do you know my name?” you questioned shakily, “please just let me go I swear I won’t tell anyone anything I sw-”

A fist to the face cut off your words, your head snapped to the side, blood seeped from your split lip.

Your jaw clenched, spitting the blood that had gathered in your mouth you turned your head back towards him, he was closer now.

You adjusted yourself in the uncomfortable chair, “did you really forget that I can’t feel the pain you inflict on me?” you glared.

Though Bucky’s face had remained the same stoic stare, his eyes looked away from yours, you scoffed. “You know you could jeopardize this entire mission for us right, what the hell are you even doing Barnes, what the hell is all of this?” you questioned pulling at the restraints.

He let out a tense breath through his lips, “I just,” his fist clenched at his side, “I just needed to make sure you were okay,”

A sarcastic laugh left your lips, “and this,” you growled tugging at the restraints, “this is your way of making sure I was okay, didn’t think you cared, if I recall it was you fleeing the moment you found out we were s-”

“don't say it,” he growled, eyes growing dark as he glared at you.

You shook your head at the man in front of you, “see you still haven’t accepted it,” you muttered, “yet here we are, with me tied to a fucking chair because you wanted to make sure I was okay.”

The two of you grew quiet as you murdered one another with the intensity of killer eyes, “can you untie me my arms uncomfortable,” you muttered. Though Bucky personally couldn’t inflict any pain on you the ropes binding your hands now that was another story.

Bucky didn’t utter a word as he went behind you to cut the restraints, your arms fell limp at your sides, a inaudible pained groan fell from your lips. You pushed yourself up on wobby legs, gathering your bearings. Once the feeling had returned to your numbed limbs, you turned to face the stoic man next to you. It took you a second to reel your hand back, your fist flying into the side of Bucky’s cheek throwing him off guard, your foot was the next thing to swing taking a direct hit into the middle of his chest sending him flying a few feet back.

A growl left his lips as he stood, a pained expression on his face, “that’s what you get Barnes,” you hissed standing your ground, “it's been a damn year, and now all of a sudden you decide to “care”, if you even want to call it that,”

“y/n” he tried

“I don’t want to hear it,” you muttered, “does the team even know you’re here, that you’ve been following me?” You seethed, “Pierce could very well have caught on, he has eyes on me, it’s been a year and the asshole still doesn’t trust me, and now you showing up out of the blue to come check up on me, what the hell bucky!”

You could see his façade fall the longer he stared at you, “the team hasn’t heard from you, they were worried,”

An angry groan tore from your lips, “fuck you Barnes, why is it so hard for you to give into your feelings,” you yelled, “the teams well aware I wouldn’t be in contact until I got everything I needed to frame pierce, and IF they were worried why not send someone else, why YOU!”

Bucky stood unmoving, he didn’t know what to say, what could he say after he pushed you away.

You sat on his untouched bed, fingers twiddling in your lap as you waited for him. You were lost in your head as you went over the words you’d like to share with him, to express to him. There were so many emotions coursing through you, but the one shining through the brightest was disbelief. You had heard the stories, seen the headlines, even witnessed the love of two souls becoming one, you had just never thought it was in the books for you, you had never felt that tug towards someone, and you had been okay with it. Until today; you had never trained with Bucky, it was usually Natasha and occasionally Steve if he was willing to get rough housed. So when you had been informed that Steve and Natasha would be out of the tower for a few hours, you decided to try and coax the guarded soldier out of the confines of his room.

Bucky was always very guarded, you only ever saw him really let his walls down around Steve and that in itself was a rare occurrence, so having him here in the training room with you and watching him crack the smallest resemblance of a smile at you had you nearly falling to your feet.

“don’t let your guard down, keep your stance,” he murmured from his end of the mat.

This had been going on for the last thirty minutes, you two had yet to touch, you had just been dancing around one another, taunting, critiquing, building each other up for the first initial contact. Having had enough of this dance you two were doing you took the first step towards him, he was quicker though his foot sweeping you off your feet, your back and head meeting the mat instantly, but that’s not what had your breath catching in your throat. It was the chilling thought that you had felt no pain from his hit, it took the impact to bring any sort of pain to the forefront.  

“you let your guard down?” he smirked reaching his hand out to you.

In your confused fueled driven state, instead of taking Bucky’s hand, you drove the palm of your hand into his cheek, the slap resonating through the room. Bucky looked at you wide eyed, “did you-” you took in shaky breath, “did you feel that?”

Bucky didn’t say anything as he retracted his hand, you had your answer the second he bolted out the door without so much as a word.

The door creaking open had you looking up, Bucky froze at the door, his eyes glued to your form, he closed the door ever so slowly behind him. He didn’t say anything as he stood there, just staring “You’ve heard the stories, haven't you?” you questioned, he didn’t say anything just continued to stare, “when two soulmates are meant to connect, there will be no pain, instead there will be joy in your soul, laughter, calmness, inspiration so much so that there will be hope in front of you, it will be like a beacon,” he still remained stoic in front of you, you were beginning to grow nervous, “ Bucky, I didn’t feel the moment you took me down, I only felt when my body hit the mat, and you can’t tell me that you felt, the slap to your face,” you murmured.

“it doesn’t mean we’re soulmates, it doesn’t-” he glared, pausing over his words as if he knew he might regret them.

Though you knew what he was getting at, what he was doing, and it didn’t keep your face from falling, “you can’t stand there and tell me you don’t feel it, that there’s not something there,” you murmured.

“what,” he grunted, “what do you want to be there y/n, there’s nothing there,” he hissed, “we’re barely even friends, we can barely call each other acquaintances, and now you want me to call us soulmates?”

His eyes were only growing colder, “it’s never going to happen, there’s just no way, all of it is just made up,”

“but buc-”

“but nothing y/n” he growled effectively quieting you, “there’s nothing there, no tug, no feelings drawing me to you, nothing,” he hissed, “so drop it, we’re not soulmates, you not feeling pain and me not feeling your wimpy punches means nothing, it just means you need to work harder, that’s, it,”

“But b-”

“drop it y/n” he grunted stepping closer to you, “there’s no connection between you and I, whatever it is you think you’re feeling it’s not real, so drop it,”

A part of you had started to believe maybe you had made this feeling up, because while soulmates were supposed to be the last person to bring you any semblance of pain, the ache growing in your chest, the ache in your soul was too much for you to bear.

You nodded numbly at him head casted down as your lower lip wobbled, eyes growing glassy with unshed tears. You didn’t murmur another word as you stood from his bed, you stepped around him, needing to get out, but the more steps you took away from him, the louder the crys of your soul got, the tug was overbearing as you pulled open his door stepping out silently as you let it click behind you.

Bucky had been caught off guard at not feeling the pain from your slap, you had been right, he had seen the articles, heard the stories, he just didn’t think it would ever happen to him, that he would meet his soulmate. Truth was Bucky had been overwhelmed at the thought of meeting his soulmate, and to discover that you been in front of him all this time really had thrown him. After everything Bucky had been through, all the trial and tribulations life had put him through he didn’t think he was deserving of having someone his soul was bound to, especially not someone like you. You were a pure soul, he didn’t want to taint you, to hurt you like the many people he had, but isn't that what he had done. He had pushed you away because he was scared of hurting you, of the evil that lurked in the hidden shadows hurting you.

“I’m sorry,” he tried head casted down, a scoff fell from your lips, his eyes darting up to yours.

“You're sorry?” you questioned exasperated, after you rejected me, rejected our tie, you’re sorry, well I'm sorry to say Bucky, but it’s a little too late,”  

Tears were threatening to well in your eyes, it pained you to even have those words fall from your mouth, but what’s a little more pain.

“y/n”

“No Barnes, don’t you think you’ve put me through enough, why are you even here?” you questioned again growing agitated with this back and forth, “a year ago you couldn’t even bring yourself to acknowledge me after I tried to get you to open up about the possibility of us being soulmates and you pushed me away, the week before I was sent on this mission I had barely even caught so much as a glance of you, but now you’re here, and for what, what are you here for,” Your arms flew up in the air in frustration, “you can’t tell me it's because you finally decided to acknowledge any feelings because that would be a lie, you can’t even admit to being here to check on me because YOU wanted to see if I was okay, no you’re here because the team was worried not because you were.”

Bucky couldn’t find the words, he knew he had been wrong in pushing you away, he knew what could happen if either of you fought the strong connection that two soulmates had towards one another, but that’s exactly what he was doing. What had he expected though, was he expecting you to just run into open arms, forgive him as if the pain he put you through was nothing, he knew you would be upset, he just never thought he would be on the receiving end of your anger.

Your phone pinging in your pocket brought the both of you out of your angered states, you groaned as you reached for it, eyes widening slightly as you looked over the message, “shit” you muttered.

You turned on your heel, you needed to get out of here quick, Bucky was quick to notice your leave reaching out to a get a grip on your bicep. You turned to glare at him with storm filled eyes, “Let go Barnes,” you growled.

“No y/n we need to talk about this,”

You let out a harsh forced laugh, “I don’t want to talk anymore Bucky, you’ve already caused me enough trouble, and now pierce may very well have my head because of you,” you hissed, “do us both a favor and go,” you said ripping your hand free from his hold. You didn’t look back, you knew if you did, this whole mission could go sideways. Once you were out of sight of his watchful eyes, you pulled out your burner typing three in three urgent letters to Steve; S.O.S. ,just like you had gone over.

Your head snapped to the side a pained hiss leaving your lips, “you must think me a fool y/n, did you really think I wouldn’t find out,” he questioned beady eyes trained on your bloodied face. Did you really think I wouldn’t be keeping tabs on you this entire time, that you wouldn’t have a watchful eye over you, I have eyes everywhere, inside the office and definitely out, I need to make sure I know who’s been sent to work for me” he hissed dealing another blow to the side of your face. After receiving the message from Pierce you knew you were in for it when you actually came face to face with the man. You just didn’t realize how bad it would get, you could only hope that Steve would get your message and know how to locate you before your time ran out.

“took you long enough, surprised you didn’t confront me sooner, you know with you having a watchful eye on me,” you snarked spitting out a glob of blood at his feet.

You took another backhand to the face, your head cocking to the side from the force, “I'd watch your words very carefully agent, though the year that you’ve been under me you havent watched much of what you let out” he hissed, “you think you have the upper hand here, that you’re not just a pawn to the bigger picture?”

“What are you on about?” you gritted.

A laugh left his lips in the form of a scoff, his hand grabbed at your chin roughly, “you really think you’re the one with the upper hand here, that you would be getting anything out of me I've been watching you, hearing you y/n?” he laughed, “you really should have watched what you said in the dead of night in a hushed tone into the damned burner phone of yours.”

Your faced scrunched in confusion, “the winter soldier,” he hissed shaking your head, your eyes widened “all this time you thought you’d be getting an upper hand on me, oh but how the tables have turned agent, oh how they have turned,”

Your faced morphed from confusion to anger, “you bastard you won’t get away with this!” you yelled.

He got in your face then gripping your cheeks tightly, “oh but I already have, and you’re going to have a front seat agent, and don’t worry I'll make sure your death is slow and painful, shouldn’t have to wait much longer,” he grunted swinging you around to the door. You waited with baited breath, but soon gunfire was ringing through the cemented walls outside the door you were being held in. You could hear thumps of bodies heavily flying into the walls and floors, suddenly the rooms door you were being held in was kicked down with heavy force. Bucky and Steve stood at the door way, their breathing heavy as they glared at the man behind you.

“so glad the two of you could make it,” he spoke from behind you, “shall we get this show on the road?” he questioned. A click sounded through the room, your eyes met Steve’s and then they moved over to Bucky’s, your eyes used the words that you couldn’t speak in that moment.

Желание. Ржавый. Семнадцать.  

The minute those words sounded through the room, it threw all of you into action, well you and Steve, Bucky was a frozen mass of muscle at the door. You watched with wide eyes as Steve raced to you, Pierce sidestepping him as he went to stand closer Bucky.  

Рассвет. Печь. Девять. Добросердечный.

The next four words had Steve working at the restraints bounding you to the steel chair, “Steve hurry!” you rushed watching Bucky’s eyes grow darker, face growing colder. Steve cut and pulled at the string the fastest that he could, whispering into your ear, reassuring you that the two of you would be okay. You weren’t sure if you believed him, did he really think you could pull this off, even you were beginning to think maybe there had been faults in this missions plan.

Возвращение на родину. Один. Товарный вагон Солдат.

You were pulled from your restraints at the last second, a tense silence washed over you before chaos broke loose. Steve pushed you off to the side when Bucky charged him, “y/n go get out of here,” Steve grunted attempting to dodge his friend's hits. “Go!” he grunted, though you didn’t get far when Pierce lunged for you at the door, a pistol in his hands stalled you, but it was the gun going off where Steve and Bucky stood that froze you. You looked over in horror, as blood seeped from the middle of Steve’s suit, you rushed forward, Pierce not stopping you as you fell to your feet, hand pressing down onto the bleeding wound. Your fingers were stained in blood as it poured from his suit. It wasn’t long before Bucky was turning on you his fingers weaving in your hair as he threw you into the corner of the wall. If even for a second you were glad you couldn’t feel the pain, that he was about to bring. He didn’t waste a single second as he went at you, his hands merciless as they rained down on you. Your eyes widened as you saw him reach for the gun, the same gun he had just shot Steve with, you looked over to Steve while still trying to hold off Buckys towering frame, a cry fell from your lips as you saw the captain slouched over, eyes closed, breathing coming out unbelievably slow. Your eyes then looked past Bucky’s shoulder to see Pierce at the door a smug smirk on his face as he watched the scene.

You continued to shove at Bucky’s hand that held the gun, trying to fight it off though you knew the imminent was near and no training could have ever prepared you for it. A fist to the face had you falling to the floor his gun aimed at you, it took less than a second before a round was going off, a pain coursing through your body, you were falling off to the side, your sight increasingly going blurry. You watched Bucky walk stoically over to Pierce gun still clenched tightly In his hand, your eyes were rolling as the darkness pulled at you, luring you in, the last thing to ring through your mind was the sound of a round going off, another body falling to the floor.

Your body screamed in protest, eyes twitching behind your closed lids, your groggy head moved slightly the cotton pillow a welcome. With the strength you could muster up you fought your heavy eyes cracking them open ever so slightly. Two bodies hovered next to you, you pushed a little harder, your eyes finally fluttering open. Steve was the first to greet your line of sight, a small smile pulling at his lips, “how you feeling?” he questioned.

“Like absolute death, what the hell did Bucky shoot me with?” you groaned.

Steve scratched the back of his head, “you might want to ask Stark when we get back to the tower, if it was enough to take me down, can’t imagine what it would have done to you, what it did to you.”

You nodded your head, not trusting your body to do more with the haze it was still in, “hey at the briefing do you think we could bring up how uncomfortably sticky dyed corn starch with chocolate syrup is, I get it’s the most believable but my goodness, my clothes feels like a second layer of skin.”

Steve laughed at that, “noted, I'll definitely need a good scrub down myself, I was honestly worried with how quickly the concoction was seeping through my suit, had you not obstructed Pierce’s view he could have caught on.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, Steve could sense the underlying question dancing on the tip of your tongue, his head fell slightly, “Bucky took care of Pierce,” he murmured. Your eyes glanced at Bucky where he stood off on Steve’s side, he was staring intently at your form, had he been staring this entire time?

“Actually,” Steve said suddenly, “we should be approaching the tower soon, so I'll give you two sometime,” he murmured, offering you a small smile patting Bucky on the back before he was moving away from the two of you.

Bucky moved up to the spot Steve had been in, “sorry about all this doll,” he murmured indicating the bruises that adorned your face.

“No need to apologize Bucky, I'm just glad this mission didn’t go sideways, I was worried for a minute that he had caught on to the actual plan we had set, its been a year of this, I forget half of the stuff I said to Steve over the phone” you groaned as you adjusted yourself on the cot. Bucky offered you a helping hand as he pulled you into a sitting position, your body slouching against the seat.

“Well we all held our part pretty well, especially you, I almost thought I had messed up all over again, it all felt so real” he murmured.

“You know,” you spoke drawing his eyes up to yours as you pulled at the intel device buried in the crevices of you ear, “I’m still mad at you for pushing me away the way you did," you added a teasing glint in your eye, “i think this mission may have sparked the underlying anger I still have,”

Bucky pushed at you shoulder slightly, “don’t start,” he warned “see I told tony it would be a bad idea to involve our history like this, do you know how bad I wanted to break character with those words spilling from your mouth?” he questioned, “I actually did, when I said that we needed to talk, but then you walked away and you didn’t turn back and its like something in me snapped again and I knew I needed to keep it together to see the mission through, I almost thought I had messed it all up because I couldn’t bear the fact at you being mad at me.”

An understanding smile pulled at the corner of your lips, “well then it’s a good thing we worked past all your mess, before we took on this mission,” you teased, though you could tell there was still some underlying insecurities in Bucky’s eyes. Your hands reached for his, “It was just a mission buck, yeah the words we shared held some truth, but we worked through those issues did we not?” you questioned. You saw him nod his head slowly, “it’s been a year of having to live out a past that we would rather keep behind us,” you sighed, “a past that was hard for both of us but hey we worked through those struggles then we can definitely work through it now.”

“i fought hard for you then, i’ll fight hard for you now,” you murmured bringing his hand to your lips.

YMM Tag-list: @lovely-geek​

[gusu-emilu]

thanks @curiosity-killed for the tag for this fic writer meme!

tagging @lady-of-the-lotus @eldritch-elrics @qi-ling if y'all are interested

How many works do you have on AO3?

18!

What’s your total AO3 word count?

162,313 - This is basically all from 2021. I'm very proud of myself! I don't think even my entire original fic wordcount could add up to this. Look what MDZS did to me...

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

3: basically just MDZS/CQL, but I have one Sleuth of Ming Dynasty fic and one MDZS/TGCF crossover

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

sometimes I forget (200) - This fic is very special to me (first completed multichap, Chengning) so I'm happy to see it as the first. I think my writing abilities have grown since then, but I'm still very satisfied with the story.

seven nights to turn (195) - My other Chengning multichap, close behind! This is my personal favorite so I'm thrilled by the reception it got. I loved digging deep into JC and WN's emotions in this fic.

thermal scheming (192) - Fluffy Sangcheng oneshot, one of my older fics. I'm honestly shocked it did this well!

follow your arrow (115)

To Sit Outside Your Door (99)

I did not realize that 4/5 of these would be Chengning but I guess I should've expected it lol

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Every single one! I love getting author replies when I comment on fics, so I do the same for comments I receive. I'm really grateful for readers and want to tell them that.

A lot of times I don't know what to say besides "thank you" and a keysmash and some emojis...but if I see an opportunity to slip in a short ramble about my fic I'll take it :D

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Hm...I do write some angst but never really end with angst. Maybe Writing Out Days (sad Burial Mounds Wen siblings) but that fic is less than 1k so it's not like much happened to be wrapped up with an "ending", per se. The ending of sometimes I forget is kinda angsty, but then the little bonus chapter after it is pure fluff...idk man...

Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I would say no, because I'm not interested in writing or reading crossovers, and yet I impulse-wrote a MDZS/TGCF fic where Sandu's sword spirit meets Hua Cheng 🤷

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I got visited by the Xiyao troll once! It was a magical experience. The best part is that LXC and JGY had said hello, once, and the comment wasn't even on that chapter. I hadn't even gotten to the background Xiyao yet (and never will bc that fic is 100% abandoned)

Do you write smut? if so what kind?

Kind of! I'll occasionally include non-explicit sex. Little ace me can only handle so much 😅 I only have one fic with actual smut (seven nights to turn) and even then it's...idk. Not that detailed? My beta had to tell me several times to describe JC's body. If I do write smut, I inevitably focus on the emotions much more.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so! Somebody please tell me if it happens lol

Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but I did attempt to translate one of my short oneshots into Mandarin for fun. I think I made it halfway through?

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope!

What’s your all time favorite ship?

Chengning! Specifically post-canon. They have so much history to work with! I like the ship for the parallels, the way they have to confront both each other and themselves, the hurt/comfort, the fact that it's my two favorite characters...

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

1) Wen Ning's POV during WWX's second life - what the Ghost General does when no one's looking. Basically a character study with some side adventures and introspection.

2) A post-canon case fic thing involving Nightless City mostly focusing on JC's relationships with WWX and JL. Maybe WN too. But it would be so much work and despite the idea sitting in my head for a few months and a few pages written, I still don't have the plot straightened out.

What are your writing strengths?

Well. Um?? Going based on comments I've gotten, I can sometimes effectively evoke emotion! And some people enjoy my sense of humor.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I sometimes struggle to make my vision clear, especially when explaining what characters are thinking/feeling or if I have some unnecessary meta that I'm determined to put into the fic. I'm also not the best at planning lengthy plots (or committing to them).

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I basically only read fic for Chinese novels/dramas, and I enjoy seeing original-language terms used (titles, genre-specific words, foods, etc.). Not sure how I'd feel about other fandoms because I haven't encountered that in a fic yet.

AO3 has a cool feature that lets you hover over a block of text on desktop (tap on mobile) and it reveals the translation. I've used it before. I feel like this is a good option unless the fandom would be familiar with the dialogue in another language.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

MDZS/CQL!

We are not counting the "original story" I wrote in middle school that was basically The Outsiders with different names

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

seven nights to turn!

[fr0gheart]

filming

authors notes: i kind of set this headcanon up a different way so i hope you enjoy it. it’ll be based on different aspects of like getting to know him and like being cast and stuff. this gif has nothing to do with the hc! lol sorry and as always enjoy

anonymous said:  may you pLEASE do headcanons for like, reader being a new character on ST3 and i guess somewhere during filming, reader and finn start dating.

directory

𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

so you would probs audition for a new character on season 4

i’m think will and el meet her at school 

and she has no parents and she hops from shelter to shelter

pretty much looking for a place to stay

since her parents died in a mysterious fire

which turns out to be that the hawkins lab killed them

because they threatened to go public with what they were 

doing with the human trials

ANYWAY lets get to casting

so you would find out about the role on instagram

and you were relatively a new actor

like you weren't big in the acting industry

so you thought why not

there’d be multiple interviews 

like one in l.a. and one in vancouver

but you would land the role

the duffers would describe you as 

‘ the perfect one for the role and that your a groundbreaking actress and you need to get more recognition for your talent’ 

and obviously it would make you so fucking happy

so yeah filming starts really soon

𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐚

so at first the duffers would not want you to tell anyone

but they made the exception for your family

but no friends

they were literally about telling NO  friends

so netflix would post the new casting on their twitter and instagram

people would be excited for the role 

but they wouldn’t really know who you were

so when your castamates found out

they would send hellos

and looking forward to working with you texts 

so you really felt welcomed in the cast

millie would make it her personal mission

to be your new best friend

and while you would appreciate it 

it would be really intimidating

but you texted her a lot 

and she kinda told you about life on set

and she would talk about people 

especially the younger group

so you would be really excited to meet her

𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

so you would have a flight to georgia

and it would be really long and you’d

be kind of nervous

not really nervous like fucking crazy nervous

and you wouldn’t really know what to do

because auditioning wasn’t as bad as this

so you would get to set 

and like immediately go to your trailer to 

calm yourself down and prepare

so you would got to the first script reading

and the duffers would be like

‘ please welcome y/n to the family’

and everyone would like get up and clap for you 

and go to hug you

joe’s hug was so warm

and you could tell that finn felt awkward

in the hug so you would end it really fast

because you didn't want anyone to be uncomfortable

but you would read the script and ultimately 

you would fucking love it and you would be so excited for shooting

𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩

so you guys would not be friends for a while

you were still so overwhelmed meeting everyone 

so you wouldn’t talk to them in the first week of shooting

but when millie invited you to get ice cream with the cast

you went because you wanted to create some strong friendships

and mostly you would just cling to caleb’s side

cause you knew him from social media

and he had reached out to you multiple times

so you guys were friends already

anyway you would get like rocky road or vanilla

or whatever no biggie

and suddenly

you would like drop your ice cream

and you would just be so sad

and finn would see

and just volunteer to buy you another one

and you’d get really like shy

and he would tell you it was no biggie

because friends do that for each other

and you would be like

‘really?’

‘ yeah of course we’re friends ‘

𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

so after finn bought your ice cream

you both got closer like instantly

you would talk to him about everything

and while you were friends

he would always make flirty jokes with you

like

‘ y/n even if there wasn’t gravity on earth, i would still fall for you’

and you would be like blushing

and flirting came even more

you would hang out after scenes

and before

he would invite you to calpurnia concerts

but it wasn’t a date unless you were comfortable

he would give you his sweater or sweatshirt or 

really whatever you want to wear from his closet

he would want you to just watch him from the side

because fans could be pretty vicious

so you would watch from the side 

and he would look so good

and after the show he would hug you 

and malcolm, jack and ayla would be like 

awwww so kyute uwu

𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬

so you and finn had been flirting the entire time filming

but there was two months left 

until all of you went your separate ways

and finn would just want to make it official

because you guys had gotten way closer after the concert

so you and finn would be acting in the same scene

and he had let the duffers know what he was doing

so you would just be saying your characters lines

and she was like acting mean

and finn would just say

‘will you go out with me’

and you’d be shocked and you’d look at the duffers

because that wasn’t his line

and the duffers would be like

‘ well? what do you say?’

and you would be like beaming 

and of course you said yes 

you would just run and hug him 

and the entire cast and crew would applause and it would be so magical

like the perfect day

so your relationship would be just like your friendship 

but with added cuddling and occasional kisses

you would be really close

okay nobody asked but i’m gonna talk about the first kiss between you guys

so you would be in his hotel room

 because he asked you to tour with him and calpurnia

and it was crazy that your parents agreed

but here you were in finns room 

watching him play with his guitar 

as you just sit there playing bitlife

on your phone

he walks up to you

and he strums along to the chords of my girl by the temptations

and he sings it to you 

and you were fucking beaming

like you were smiling so hard

but you got up and grabbed behind his head

he put his arms on your waist

and you guys kissed and it was really nice and finn was like

‘ we should do that way more often’

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

okay press tours so fun 

so so so fun

( also y/s/n means your ship name ok thanks )

so you would be paired with finn and noah

you mostly went on netflix and buzzfeed

and it was a lot of globetrotting

from place to place

but in particular interview with entertainment one

the interviewer was really rude

and she kept questioning noah

and asking stuff about feeling left out 

from season one

and it would be so irritating

like so so very irritating

then the interviewer would ask 

if you and finn were dating

and you would say no

and you would keep pushing

until eventually you put her in her place

‘ this interview has been so very rude, you’ve made all of us uncomfortable and we’re here to talk about the show not about our personal lives. put this in all of it, i’m sick of interviewers like you i’m done’

you walked off the set and finn and noah would stay behind like shocked

and noah would just break the silence

stream stranger things 4 on december 5

and him and finn would go to your dressing room

‘ y/n that was so badass’ noah said

and you guys just talked about the interviewer and laughed because it was 

crazy that you had made a family with the cast

[mypoisonedvine]

Hiya! Could you maybe write a sad/angsty Jaskier imagine where the reader is dying from an illness or something, but when she dies she kinds of a transformation (like yen) where not only does she come back to life, but she’s even more beautiful. After years she eventually finds Jaskier and Geralt again and they reunite ect ect. Could you please make it really emotional? I’m in the mood to cry 😩

Hoo boy, I really ran with this one, because I actually had a vaguely similar idea before I got this ask and I ended up sorta frankensteining the two together into something hopefully enjoyable!  Sorry it took so long, but with a word count of 6k it’s not too shocking that it took me a few days!  Hope you’re still in the mood to cry!  I took a few liberties with the original prompt although I actually had a second idea that followed it more closely in some ways and less so in others.  Maybe I’ll write that one up someday as well but I don’t want to be known for killing readers lol so I’ll need to get some normal stuff out there in between.

Quick disclaimer, I sort of made canon squishy in this one… it’s supposed to be set after Jaskier breaks up with Geralt after the dragon hunt.  Theoretically, he heads straight back home and that instigates this whole plot.  The thing is that he and the reader would be 40 for that to really make sense.  So, I kind of left it vague…. depending on your age, feel free to imagine that less than 22 years have passed lol.  So, just a heads up on that.

WARNING: major character death, in fact it’s the reader and it is depicted graphically.  I would not recommend this story to someone struggling with suicidal thoughts because it does straight up describe you dying, all in second person.  If you think you would find that really disturbing and/or really enticing, please don’t read this!  The good news is, as is made clear in the original request, there’s a happy ending!

Never Really Over (a Jaskier x Reader oneshot)

Rating: T (violence but only implied smut)Word Count: 6kTaglist: never had one of these for an ask before but lol @100percentamess you asked to be tagged in everything so here’s your first!

You were cleaning out an old closet when you found it, tucked away under a floorboard.  When you saw the small decorated chest, you instantly remembered what was inside.  Throughout your childhood you had written him a number of love letters, confessing your undying commitment to him every few years like some kind of triennial tradition.  None of the letters ever made it to him, because you knew better than to dream of him ever returning the sentiment.  Even knowing that, you felt embarrassment burning in your chest when you remembered some of the ridiculous things you had written.  Julian, you’re the love of my life and I know that we’re meant to be together, shit like that.  

You had always wanted to get out of this town, see the world, experience life, but you never got your chance.  That made it sting all the more when you found the letter from him under your door so many years ago.  You didn’t even need to open the box to read it, you remembered it like you had it right in front of you: You’ve been my best friend my whole life and I’ve loved you like a sister.  I hope you won’t be hurt that I’m leaving, but I can’t stay in this place.  I need adventure, and I plan to find it while I tour the Continent with my songs.  If I ever return I’ll be sure to stop by… and if I become a famous bard, you can always say you knew me back when!  -Julian

When you heard a knock at the door you jumped, having lost yourself in the memory.  You slid the floorboard back quickly, and moved a rug over it to cover the cracks.  Running to the door, you swung it open and what you saw made you sure you’d gone mad.

It was Julian.  He’d barely aged, so much so that at first you thought he was some sort of corporeal memory of the day he left.  

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he remarked casually.  

~

“Julian-” you began.

“I go by Jaskier now,” he corrected.

“Unless you’re here to perform, I’m not going to call you by a stage name,” you frowned. 

“It’s not just a stage name: I’ve reinvented myself,” he boasted. 

“Jules, I’ve known you my whole life, and you’re the same you’ve always been,” you shot him down with an eye roll.  He smiled at you and it made your heart ache.

“You’re the same, too.  But you look different,” he observed.  You must have made a face of disappointment because he instantly corrected himself. “Not older, necessarily.  Well, not old.  You look different…” he paused, “but it suits you.”

“Don’t sound so hesitant,” you laughed.

“It’s just strange!” he defended. “But it’s good to see you again.  I missed you greatly.”

You sighed, looking away. 

“You don’t hate me for leaving, do you?” he asked nervously, taking your hand in his.  His touch shot through your entire body, and you wished he wouldn’t do things like that- things that were so unimportant and nonchalant to him but meant so much to you.

“I only hate you as much as I ever did,” you answered quietly, looking back at him.  He looked like he really needed to believe that you didn’t hate him, which was strange: normally he seemed to either not care what people thought of him, or maybe even thrive on negative attention.  He was always meant to be a star: a firm believer in the idea that there’s no such thing as bad publicity.

“Strangely, I don’t find that comforting,” he replied with a chuckle.

“You best not come to me for comfort, don’t you remember how mean I am?” you smiled back.

“Yes, but never to me!” 

“Well, you left,” you responded, and the mood was dampened.  Regretting to have lost the energy, you piped up quickly with a question. “How were your travels?”

It didn’t seem to help.

“Oh, lovely,” he said, but his energy didn’t match the words. “Saw all sorts of wild things.  You’d have loved it.  We were going to make it to the coast- we never did.  But you’d have loved it,” he reflected somberly.

You sighed, imagining how incredible it would be.  To think that he thought of you in such interesting places made you wonder if he would be willing to go with you, like you’d always wanted.

“Maybe we should go,” you suggested hesitantly.

“No, you’d have a terrible time,” he deflected.

“But you just said I’d have loved it,” you remembered.

“I meant being there, but travelling?  You don’t have the constitution for it,” he scoffed.

“What I don’t have the constitution for is staying here,” you countered, sadness palpable in your voice.

“Well, now that I’m back I’m wishing I’d never left,” he groaned.

“Don’t be ridiculous.  Please tell me you won’t be staying long,” you replied incredulously.

“Best not to, I suppose.  Maybe I’ll go to the coast on my own-” he began.

“Take me with you,” you pleaded, gripping his doublet, having lost all sense of dignity, “I need to leave this place.  I can’t die in this town, Julian.  I need to see the world!  I’ve never seen the ocean, the mountains-”

“No,” he repeated.

“Please,” you begged.

“I don’t do that anymore,” he grumbled, turning away to pick up his bag and starting to walk away. “It’s over, alright?”

“What?”

“I was travelling with someone but… I guess I drove him as crazy as I always drove you.  And he told me to leave him alone,” he sighed.

You felt guilty for pressing on it, not realizing it was still a sore spot.

“You didn’t drive me crazy,” you comforted, “not really.”

“I think I’m just too much.  I’m too intense for most people,” he explained.

“Most people are terrible,” you groaned. “Remember how we talked when we were young?  How everyone was so pompous and ridiculous and fake?”

“Yeah,” he smiled a little at the memory.

“Well, we were right.  I mean, I know we were whiny little brats,” you smirked, “but this town hasn’t changed much.  All gossip and nonsense.”

“It’s not this town, it’s the whole Continent,” he corrected.  “Trust me, I’ve seen a lot of it, and people are the same everywhere.”

You didn’t say anything at first.

“Except you,” he added, “of course.”

You smiled but it hurt when he said things like that.  All the “love you like a sister” crap that made being his friend so painful, and now more than ever you couldn’t escape from it.  Of course a part of you was glad to see him again, but now that he was in front of you, it was like not even a day had passed since he left: you still loved him so completely, so desperately, and so pointlessly.  

~

You heard him singing, ever so quietly, from around the corner.  You always thought he had a lovely voice but he’d never liked to play for you.  He said it gave him stage fright, something he failed to experience on actual stages.  You figured he was just holding out on you, for whatever reason.  You didn’t want to spy but also you couldn’t really help it, since you were visiting his family’s home and he had been silly enough to play a song with the door open.  He started and stopped and started over a few times, but once he got going for good, you were close enough to be able to hear the words…

She is the sun, bright and unforgivingBurning the grass and drying the rainI never looked at her, afraid to go blindI loved her light though she brought me such pain

She is the sun and when she walks awayThe world gets colder though the sky is in bloomAs the sun sets I ask if I’ve lost my chance foreverBut she could never stay and to the night I am doomed

“Ah, fuck, doomed doesn’t really rhyme with bloom, does it?” he interrupted himself.  You jumped a little, not realizing how entranced you were by the song, and you reached up to wipe a few stray tears from your cheeks.  You couldn’t be mad at him for singing a song about another woman when he didn’t even know you could hear, but you were angry regardless.  Moreso than angry, just sad.  Wasn’t love supposed to make you feel good?  Loving Julian was a thankless job, certainly.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked, and you jumped again, not even having noticed he’d turned the corner.

“Just mopping,” you blurted out.

He looked around for a moment with a raised eyebrow.

“…where’s your mop, then?” he (fairly) queried.

“Still in the kitchen,” you explained, “I’m planning where I’m going to mop.”

“I figured you could sort of just wing it with mopping.  Didn’t realize there was a pre-mopping phase.”

“Oh, absolutely,” you nodded, “it’s really important.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to keep you.  Get on with it,” he encouraged, starting to go back into his room.

“Wait,” you prompted.  He stopped, turning back to face you. “I liked the song.”

“I was hoping you hadn’t heard that,” he replied nervously.

“Why?”

“I didn’t want anyone to hear it until it was finished,” he explained.

“And when it’s finished, will you play it at the local pub or something?” you asked, remembering his earliest performances when you were fifteen or so.

“No, too personal for that: I was planning to play it for the subject,” he explained.  You winced.

“I’m sure she’ll love it,” you responded quietly

“Yeah, the Countess is fickle and all but she usually spreads her legs for a good song,” he smiled mischievously.

Thinking of him with someone else, especially like that, made you want to vomit… then you would actually need to mop.  

“Why did you come here?” you asked him, finally, after wanting to understand for so long.

“I… I needed some time at home,” he answered, but you didn’t buy it.

“Why now?  And why did you come to my door?” you growled.

“Are you offended by that?  Am I not allowed to visit a friend?” he responded in confusion.

“I didn’t even realize we were still friends!” you admitted.

“Why wouldn’t we be?” he asked like it made no sense at all, and you were thankful you weren’t holding anything because you likely would’ve thrown it.

“You left without a proper warning, I didn’t hear from you at all for… a long fucking time, and now you have the audacity to come back!” you barked.  “I already gave you everything, and you threw it away, searching for adventure!  What could you possibly want from me now?”

"It’s just my selfishness, I suppose, but I wanted to know there was someone out there who still cared for me,” he defended.

"You’re asking me if I care for you?  Is that really what’s on your mind?” you asked incredulously.  He didn’t respond, seeming confused.You felt tears sting the back of your eyes, rage burning through your chest.  You were tired of lying, tired of running around and being his pet all so you could be near him when he wanted nothing from you but a reminder he wasn’t totally alone in the world after he’d burned every bridge- including the one you had been standing on, waiting, for all these years.

“Julian Alfred Pankratz, I will love you until the day I die.  I promise you that.”  You tried to say it with the anger, hatred even, that you felt, but most of it was lost as your voice wavered from crying.  You turned away and walked outside, sobbing so hard you weren’t sure that you would be able to walk home properly.  You did, eventually, and immediately crawled into bed and cried yourself to sleep.

~

Maybe it wasn’t even noon yet, but it felt like time for a drink.  The pub was empty, at least at first; halfway through your fourth mug, an old acquaintance, Viktor, walked in and sat beside you.

“Bit early for that, isn’t it?” he frowned.  

“Then what are you doing here?” you asked.

“Looking for you,” he answered.

You chuckled, considering how disappointed he must be to find you like this: eyes still swollen from crying, half-drunk, more cynical and calloused than ever.

“So, listen, I’ve been thinking,” Viktor began, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes.  Despite being nearly an old maid at this point, Viktor had always sought you.  You’d known him your whole life and he was always a pest: rude, aggressive, dull.  Dumb enough to think you hadn’t realized his feelings for you.  He had proposed marriage twice, never having much of a better reason than “we’re both still single and it would make our families happy if we married.”  And now here he was, bothering you while you were trying to have a drink in peace, presumably so he could do it all over again.

“I’m not here to ask you to marry me,” he clarified, as if reading your mind.  You perked up a bit at that.

“I’m finally too old for you?” you scoffed.

“Don’t be like that,” he frowned, “you’re not old.  It makes perfect sense to me that you’re unmarried at this age, even if everyone calls you an old hag and a spinster.”

Viktor had a way of trying to be nice but it always ending in an insult.  Not that it was news to you that people talked about you that way.

“And why do you think I’m unmarried?” you pressed.

“Because you haven’t gotten to know anybody well enough,” he posited. “Look, I’ve known you my whole life, so I always figured I knew you well enough for marriage, but I see that you’re right now.  We don’t really know each other that way.”

You nodded. “Good, you’ve come to see reason then.”

“There must be some way that we could, though,” he added. “A date; courting.”

“Courting?  I’m not fourteen,” you grimaced.

“Whatever you’d want to call it.  I’d come by tomorrow and we’d go for a walk.  And we’d talk about whatever we wanted to, and we’d see how we get along when it’s just us,” he offered.

“Sound boring,” you mumbled.

“Don’t be so mean,” he requested.

“I was always mean and you still fell for me.”

“I was always nice and you still ignore me.  If you would just stop chasing something you’ll never get-” he began, but as you looked at him he stopped and started over.  “You have to stop hurting yourself over people who don’t care about you,” he explained. “If you gave me a chance, you’d appreciate how nice it feels to know someone cares for you.”

I wanted to know there was someone out there who still cared for me, you remembered Julian saying.  Apparently everyone else wanted to be cared for, but you were too busy caring to consider your own feelings.  You were so tired of fighting for Julian and rebuffing Viktor and shouldering the burden of spinsterhood in a conservative town like this one.

“Alright, come by tomorrow, then,” you acquiesced.  Viktor smiled.

“You won’t regret it- you’ll learn to appreciate me,” he predicted as he stood up to leave.

“The beginning of every successful relationship,” you replied sarcastically, but he seemed to take you literally.  What a moron.  At least he was nice enough- and actually had the integrity and honesty to tell you how he felt… not that you felt particularly integritous after your confession to Julian.  But you were optimistic; maybe this was a step in the right direction.  So why did the idea of letting go of him, even when you had known you needed to for years, hurt so deeply?

~

You stayed drunk through the afternoon but stopped drinking after a while, so you could go to bed sober.  You stayed up later than normal, avoiding sleep and the torturous dreams of love that it always brought.  It had started to rain- downpour, actually- and the thunder would’ve kept you up anyhow.

You heard a knock at your door and answered hesitantly, unsure who would be coming by so late.  When you opened it you saw Julian, soaked through with rain, looking like a lost puppy.  Of course you wanted to invite him in from the rain but you were still angry so you let him stand out there a bit longer.

“What are you doing here?” you asked.

He looked at you, and when you looked back into his eyes, you saw it.  You understood instantly what was really going on.

“Oh, oh no,” you reprimanded as you stepped back, wagging a finger at him. “No, Julian- don’t you dare.”

“I can’t help it,” he defended.

“No, no, don’t you dare love me now!” you ordered.

“Why can’t I?” he asked quietly, stepping towards you, through the doorway and out of the rain.  You stepped back again, running into a wall and bracing against it.

“It’s too late.  Jules, after all these years…” you trailed off, but then shook your head. “It’s too late,” you repeated.

“It can’t be too late,” he refused, “there has to be another chance.”

“You ran out of chances,” you explained, starting to cry, “it’s over.  Julian, it’s too late.  At some point, it has to be too late.”

“There has to be another chance for us,” he asserted.  You sobbed when you heard him say that word, ‘us.’

“Jules, no,” you wept, “I waited for so long.  I thought that if I loved you hard enough, that you would have to love me back.  And you left.  Julian, you left.  I had to give up.  I had to let it go.  I had to stop loving you.”

“But you didn’t,” he remembered, and you watched as a tear ran down his own face.

“Because you’re my fucking curse!” you screamed. “You’re my ghost!  You fucking haunt me!  Loving you has taken everything from me!”

“I never asked you to love me all those years!” he countered, his voice raising but not matching yours.

“But you’re asking me to now,” you scoffed.

“I’m not asking for anything.  I just need you to know the truth,” he explained.

“Bullshit,” you spat. “You came here because I was always your back-up plan.  You tired of whoring around, and you decided to come back because I was the stable option, the safe option.  You never wanted my love, you just wanted my attention.”

“For a long time, I didn’t understand the difference between love and attention,” he responded with a quiet, somber tone.  Your anger subsided partially.  “I didn’t understand the need for loyalty or reliability.  And then I lost everything.  The first thing I thought of when I considered coming here wasn’t my family, my house, my culture.  It was you.  I wanted to go home,” his voice began to waver tearfully, “and coming back to you was coming home.  I lost everything and all I had left was you.  And it’s not because you were my second choice.  It’s because I’m a fucking idiot who couldn’t see how much I needed you until-”

“Until it was too late,” you finished.

“Don’t say that,” he pleaded, stepping towards you again, this time touching you, grabbing your arms gently but with urgency.  His hands were warm, even when they were wet with cold rain. “Gods, don’t say that, please.”

You looked up at him and cried; you cried because you knew that there was no ending for you but heartbreak. 

“The day I met you, when I was just a few years old, was the day my life was ruined,” you whispered. “Cursed forever to live a life at your beck and call, because I loved you with everything I had.  I’ve never been able to stop, even when I hated you and even when I needed to let you go and move on so that I could live.  Julian, I waited my whole life for you…”

“You don’t have to wait anymore,” he whispered back, leaning down as his face moved closer to yours.  You whimpered weakly, your crying beginning to soothe.  His hand wiped your tears away, and you rested your face into his palm.  His touch was so warm, delicate, comforting.  

“I love you,” he confessed, examining your face.  You nodded, still crying partially from the initial hurt and partially from a solemn joy of everything you ever wanted suddenly right in front of you.  He was so close now that his face was just a few centimetres from yours, you could even feel his breath, see every drop of water running down from his hair into his face.  “Tell me it isn’t over,” he begged.

“It was never over,” you reassured, closing the distance between you and kissing him softly.  You were both still crying, just a little, perhaps mourning all the time lost that you could never get back.  And yet, all the anger of the past and the fear of the future washed away, and all that was left was being together in this moment.  The hand on your face moved to hold your head and neck, and the other pulled you closer at the waist.  Feeling his body pressed against yours was like cozying up to a warm fireplace, his presence a golden glow against the cold, dark world outside.  You wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss and starting to fall back into his arms.  He held you tightly, the wetness of his clothes soaking through yours quickly.  You didn’t even gasp when he picked you up, too lost in the kiss and trusting him too much to be afraid of falling.  He carried you down the hall, kicking the bedroom door open but setting you down onto the quilt gently.

~ 

You awoke to sunlight streaming in through the window, and the feeling of Julian’s fingers running through your hair.  You turned to face him, appreciating how lovely he looked washed in the sunrise.  You indulged yourself in looking at his muscular shoulders and chest where they weren’t covered by the bedsheets.

“Good morning,” he smiled.

“I can’t believe that really happened,” you whispered, mostly to yourself.

“I can,” he replied. “It makes perfect sense, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” you answered, feeling yourself blush a bit. 

“We should go somewhere,” he suggested suddenly.

“Where?” you asked.

“Wherever you’d like,” he shrugged.  You ran your fingers down his chest, admiring the thick layer of dark hair, imagining all the places you could go.

“Take me to the ocean, then,” you requested.

“The middle of the ocean?  Or is the coast alright?” he smirked.

You laughed.

“I’m serious!” he defended. “I’m not opposed to sailing.  It’s rather peaceful.”

“It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?  The water?” you imagined.

“Nothing quite like it,” he smiled serenely.

“Promise you’ll take me,” you demanded.

“I promise,” he whispered as he moved a stray lock of hair out of your face.

“Soon?” you pressed.

“There’s nothing keeping us here.  We could leave tomorrow if you’d like,” he offered. 

“Not planning on running off without me again, are you?  This wasn’t all some convoluted ploy to get me into bed?” you asked, mostly joking.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he laughed, sitting up and pulling you closer.  Soon he was hovering over you, and your legs wrapped around his waist before you could even think about it.

“Twice in a night didn’t satisfy you?” he smirked.

“I’m not sure I’ll ever be satisfied,” you replied.

“And to think you accused me of wanting to run off!  I’m not sure I’ll ever get out of this bed, if you have your way,” he teased, leaning down to kiss your neck.

“I waited so long for this,” you explained, “I suppose my patience has run thin.”

“Then I won’t keep you waiting any longer,” he growled, and you bit your lip as you smiled.

You startled when you heard a knock on the front door.

“Who’d be coming by at this hour?” Julian asked with confusion.

As if to answer, you heard Viktor’s voice coming from across the house: “Are you all right?” 

“Fuck,” you whispered, rolling out from under him and hopping out of the bed.  Despite the commotion and the events of the night previous, Julian still took a moment to look you up and down as your naked form was exposed.  “I forgot he was coming over today,” you hissed.

“Tell him to bugger off,” he scoffed.

“Alright, but I need to get dressed and you need to stay hidden,” you commanded.

You searched for your clothing strewn about the floor, slipping back on your wrinkled dress and attempting to make some sense of your hair.

Dressed enough to answer the door, you shooed a half-clothed Julian into a corner where he couldn’t be seen from the entryway.  You dashed down the hall and opened the door, and Viktor was waiting on the other side.

“Viktor!  Good morning!” you said cheerfully, holding the door only enough to fit your body into it, hoping he wouldn’t see much of the messy room behind you.

“Isn’t that what you were wearing last night?” he noticed instantly.  You sighed, not realizing your plan wouldn’t last even through one sentence.  What you especially didn’t realize was that, upon understanding what most likely had happened, Viktor would push past you, entering in a rage.

“Wait, stop!” you protested, but it was too late.  Viktor stormed towards the bedroom, from which Julian had emerged and then immediately started to run away. 

“You,” Viktor growled as he pointed to the topless bard.

“Hey, long time no see!” Julian cheered weakly.

“Bastard!” Viktor bellowed, chasing Julian down and pinning him against the wall. 

“Stop!” you demanded, rushing towards them.  Viktor released Julian only for a moment to grab you by the collar of your dress, and you yelped.

“I’ll deal with you next, whore!” he spat, the back of his hand slapping you across the face so hard that you spun onto the floor.

Julian launched at Viktor, the two falling next to you on the ground and wrestling in a flurry of punches.  You tried to kick them off of each other but the fight grew more brutal quickly.  Soon Viktor had forced Julian onto the ground and was punching him over and over, each hit bloodying his face more and more.

“Stop, please!” you begged, but he wasn’t listening.  You were sure that he was going to kill him, and you scrambled towards your bedside chest.  Opening it, your dagger was laid right on top, and you wasted no time grabbing it and running over to the two of them.  You grunted as you swung the blade down, stabbing Viktor in the back.  He cried out, falling onto his side on the floor.  Julian weakly sat up, sliding along the ground to get away from his attacker.  You watched Viktor struggle for a moment and then relax, a large pool of blood already forming under him.  You rushed to Julian’s side on the floor, examining his face.

“I’ll be fine,” he reassured before you could even ask.

“It looks pretty bad,” you winced.

“You saved me- I thought he was going to kill me,” he groaned.

“I couldn’t let you go that easy,” you smiled.  Julian closed his eyes, leaning his back against the wall as he sat in the corner of the room.  You looked at him with a smile: even bloodied and beaten he looked like everything you’d ever wanted.

You stood up and turned around, hoping to be able to care for Viktor’s wound, and everything happened so fast that you were on the floor before you realized exactly what had occurred.  You looked up just in time to see Viktor topple to the ground and die, a trail of blood behind him.  The wound in his back was empty, and you looked down to see your own dagger plunged into your gut.

“No!” Julian yelled, crawling towards you and examining the wound before grabbing your face. “No, no, no, no,” he rushed, tears running down his face as he scrambled around you to try to decide what to do.

“Julian,” you tried to soothe him, feeling a burning heat radiating from where you’d been stabbed.

“Oh Gods, I’ll go get someone- there must be a healer nearby-” he began desperately.

“Julian, look at me,” you requested, your voice weaker.  You felt so tired.  He obeyed, the fear in his expression clear even as you couldn’t see him that well through your tears.

“It’s over,” you whispered.

“No, no, it’s not,” he reassured as he shook his head, “it can’t be.  You’re going to be okay.  And we’re going to be together.”

"We were together, and it was beautiful,” you remembered, stopping to cough which sprayed blood from your mouth.

“It’s not over,” he repeated, but the way his voice wavered made it clear that he didn’t believe it entirely.  “I can’t lose you again.”

It was getting harder to fight to stay awake, and you didn’t want to fight anymore.  You felt like if you just let go, you could fall back into something warm and dark and peaceful.  And you were ready to let it wrap around you and take you home.  He grabbed your hand and held it in his, planting a kiss on your knuckles and holding your fingers against his forehead.  His touch kept you lucid a bit longer, but your fingers were already so cold…

“I kept my promise,” you whispered, a warm tear rolling down your cheek as you felt everything blur and soften, your vision narrowing down to a point even though you couldn’t tell if your eyes were closing.

“No, no, please don’t go…" Julian’s begging faded away into the quiet static of sleep.  

~

You startled awake, and instantly you couldn’t see or breathe.  Your body flailed against the oppressive darkness and you felt it moving against you, felt that there was something to struggle against.  Pushing back against the weight, your hands were suddenly cold and you remembered the feeling as air.  Sitting up, you were freed, coughing hoarsely as you breathed for the first time you could remember in a long time.  Opening your eyes, you saw you were on the beach, surrounded by and covered in sand.  You looked behind you and observed the hole you had just crawled out of.  Just above where your head must’ve been lay a pile of rocks, and remnants of dead flowers.  This was a burial ground.  Your burial ground.

You vaguely remembered dying, the sensation of holding Julian’s hand as you slipped away.  You could imagine it so clearly that it almost felt real, like you’d only let go of him a moment ago.  You reached down to your stomach where the knife had been, and found a bloodied hole in your clothes but no damage on your skin.  

You touched your hair and it was braided.  You looked through the sand and found flowers everywhere, even a bouquet.  You began to cry as you realized that Julian had kept his promise to take you to the ocean, and even gone so far as to prepare your body for a funeral and decorate your sandy coffin with flowers.

There has to be another chance, his words from the night before you died rang in your head.  You stood up, your legs still a little wobbly as you got used to walking again.  But quickly you were running, determined on your mission to find Julian and fix this for good.  You weren’t sure how you were alive, but you knew why: he and your teenage self were right.  You were meant to be together.  And now not even Death could stop you.

~

“Tell me the date,” you demanded as you swung open the door to the mage’s office.  He motioned to an astrological calendar on the wall, and you examined it.  

“It’s been exactly a year,” you realized aloud.

“Since when?” the mage asked curiously.

“Since I died,” you said casually.

The mage stood up, pulling out a chair and gesturing towards it.

“Please, have a seat,” he requested.

~

“I’m not sure I came back from the dead,” you groaned as you looked at yourself in the mirror.  You saw some features that you shared with your memory of how you’d looked before, but you saw yourself as a stranger.  Everything you’d hated about your face and body (and there was a lot) was gone.  No pockmarks from your childhood illness.  No wrinkles around your eyes and mouth.  Stronger jawline, bigger eyes, fuller lips.  Your hair was fuller as well, and even the colour was different.  It wasn’t like looking at an entirely different person necessarily, moreso just yourself with several minor changes that really added up, but it was quite the shock regardless.

“In my experience with resurrection, a physical change is normal,” the mage explained.

“You have experience with resurrection?” you asked incredulously as you turned to him.

“No,” he frowned.

You grimaced, looking back to yourself in the mirror, tugging at your skin as if the mask would peel off and you’d look like the old you again.

“So, you don’t know how or why you’ve changed?” the mage interrogated.

“Yes, of course,” you sighed.

“And you don’t know how or why you’re alive?” he asked.

“I don’t know how,” you answered, “but I know why.”

The mage waited for an explanation.

“Love,” you stated plainly.  “Do you think love can create miracles?”

He pondered for a moment before he replied. “Destiny gets her way,” he decided, “and even Death bends to her will.”

“I’ve always known he was my destiny,” you remembered.

“I have to say, I’ve had quite a peculiar day,” the mage admitted.  You glared at him.  “Not quite peculiar enough to compete with yours, of course, but peculiar nonetheless.  I don’t usually spend all day talking about destiny.”

“I thought that was normal fare for a mage.”

“Most people come here asking to either lift a curse or cast one.  Destiny is a rarer issue.  Just before you came in, I was discussing it with someone else- a witcher, if you’d believe it,” he recalled.

“I’d believe anything now,” you smirked.

“Say, do witchers normally have travelling companions?”

Your face dropped and you stood up from your seat.

“Tell me where they went,” you demanded.

“I try to offer my clients privacy, a sense of discretion-” he began, but he choked when you grabbed him by the collar.

“Tell me where they were headed, now,” you repeated through your teeth.

~

“You’ve aged more in the past year than you did in all our travels together,” Geralt observed.

“I lost everything,” was all Jaskier said.

Suddenly he looked to the horizon, not for any reason, just a feeling that he should.  Staring ahead he saw a silhouette begin to emerge from over the hill.  You looked back at him and you prepared to explain who you were, what had happened, why you changed (not that you understood all of that yourself).  Instead he started to run to you, and you couldn’t fight back your ecstatic smile as you began to run to him as well.  When you met in the middle he embraced you, spinning you around and pulling you into a kiss that made you feel properly alive again, more than before.

“It was never over,” he told you quietly as he pulled back from the kiss.  

“How did you know it was me?” you asked, running your fingers down his cheek. “You buried me.  I look completely different.  I don’t even recognize myself.”

“I could just… tell,” he shrugged.

“But how?” you demanded.

“Because it’s you,” he answered simply, using his hand to brush some hair out of your face. “It was always you.”

You kissed him again, with enough passion to make up for the all the time lost, and yet, brimming with hope and excitement for the future.

[forkanna]

Commissions OPEN!

For a long time, I’ve been considering Commissions; IE, you pay me to write a thing, and I write it. But I’ve had a ton of other projects I was juggling so it wasn’t feasible before now. Some of those are taken care of, and also I have no money, so let’s give it a whirl!

This is on a trial basis: if you ask and I tell you I'm no longer accepting commissions, then that's it! Please don't be mean. I took a look around Tumblr and borrowed ideas and snippets from a few other posts to give me a better notion of how to do this. Seriously, this is my first shot so I'm doing my best! If you are interested, please read through the full rules and details in this post.

Commission Rate: $5 to get started and first 1000 words + $0.02 per word

Minimum Word Count: 1500 (IE, $15 is the minimum for a finished product)

Maximum Word Count: Depends on number of commissions/my availability (but generally, anything over 10,000 is a stretch)

                   [Further details:]

Main Universes (I can jump in easily!):

Frozen

RWBY

Sabrina the Teenage Witch (90s TV series)

Riverdale/Archie Comics (yes, including Sabrina lol)

Overwatch

Harry Potter

Sailor Moon

Solty Rei

Wizard of Oz/Wicked

Bucky O’Hare

Scott Pilgrim

Jessica Jones

Miraculous Ladybug

Veronica Mars

Stranger Things

(This list may be updated)

Other 'Verses (I'll have to brush up to do them justice):

Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Firefly/Dollhouse

Charmed, Ugly Betty, Everwood

Hayate the Combat Butler, Zoids:Chaotic Century/Guardian Force, Zoids:Genesis, Tenchi Muyo!, One Piece, Naruto, YuYu Hakusho, Hunter X Hunter, FLCL, Cowboy Bebop, Dragonball, Bamboo Blade, Chobits, and a decent amount of other anime I don’t feel like listing

Other Disney verses, such as Tangled, Moana, Little Mermaid, what have you

Batman, Superman, Spider-man, X-Men

Tales of Symphonia/Vesperia/Abyss

Star Trek (anything but Enterprise)

Star Wars (original or new trilogy)

Hunger Games

Divergent

A Series Of Unfortunate Events

Steven Universe

Miller-Boyettverse (this means Full House, Family Matters, Perfect Strangers, etc.)

Sonic (But please don't ask me to write Sonic... like I will if you really want me to but ugh, it’ll just give me ‘Nam flashbacks)

Extras (note that these fees apply even if you didn’t notice them lol) :

More than 2 characters: $2.00 per character (if they have more than a single line of dialogue lol)

Use of Original Characters (OCs): $3.00 per OC

OCs must be from the same universe.

EXCEPTION: See Cross-overs below.

I will not write anyone else's OC. It must be wholly owned by you.

All OCs requested as primary characters must have a biography or a link to a biography page (if such exists) submitted to provide for characterisation. I’m not a mind-reader.

Cross-overs: $5.00 per universe (and they must still be one I'm familiar with)

Alternate Universe (AU): $5.00

Please describe your AU in the request; use as much detail as possible so I have a clearer picture of what you want.

If it’s just a general “Modern AU” with no other stipulations (meaning I can just write whatever comes to mind), this can be waived.

Pairings that aren’t F/F: $5.00 (sorry, I just need the extra motivation for non-femslash ^^;)

I WILL

Write from fandoms other than those above, as long as you provide information about the characters and the setting. This will cost you $10 extra, because unfamiliar elements will take a lot more time/effort for me to research and get into beyond simply writing the story itself (and I may refuse outright if I’m just not comfortable, fair warning)

Write smut! You can't be surprised.

Write any gender/gender pairing. I prefer and am best at F/F, but M/F, M/M, and anything outside the binary are all well and good for me (but I charge extra; see above).

Trans characters count as their gender for purposes of fees. (IE, if it’s F/trans F, it is F/F; if it’s F/trans Male, it is F/M and will be $5 extra but I’m still totally happy to do it)

Write all kinds of kinks; if you can think of it, I've either already written it or would be willing to try. But there are exceptions: see below.

Post the work on my blog and various fanfiction websites; you are paying for me to write what you want to read, not for you to be the sole "owner". Also, you can stipulate whether or not you are credited with having commissioned it, either with your name or just with a preferred nick/username/Tumblr URL.

I WILL NOT

Write anything that I ultimately don’t feel comfortable with. I reserve the right to refuse commissions for any reason with or without disclosing said reason. Do not push this or I may sever all contact.

Write non-con. Full stop. Dubcon, we can talk about it but I'm still not thrilled with the idea. Yes, I just said I'm dubious about dubiousness. (Superfluous note: this obviously extends to prepubescent characters because they cannot give consent, so just don’t.)

Write certain hard kinks. Scat and dismemberment are off the table; there are others but I’ll let you know if you hit one.

Write real people. This is a growing trend in the fanfiction community, and while I'm mildly iffy with it under the best of circumstances, it is off my commission table entirely. I’m not trying to shame anyone else but it’s just not my jam.

Do anything MLP. After what happened to Yamino, and then WebdogGate happening to me, I just... have an aversion. (There are other fandoms I won’t do but I will gently let you know if you ask about them)

Let you post the fic yourself. You will receive the file of the fic through email/messaging/file-sharing website, or simply by seeing the post on Tumblr/AO3 if you prefer, but you will not post it yourself and claim credit for the work. Just because you paid for it doesn't mean you are now the author; I’m not ghost-writing. 

Write anything other than fiction. I’m not an Essay4Cash service.

NOTE: Asking for any of the things explicitly banned on my “I WILL NOT” list will probably get your commission request ignored.

MORE DETAILS

* I will respond to commission requests on my own time, checking when I can. If you are not responded to within 1 week you may request again. * Once I have accepted and begun work on a commission, I will generally try to contact again within 1 week, either to state the reason it isn’t finished or to hand over the finished product. You may contact me after that time to ask what’s going on. * PayPal is the only form of payment accepted at this time. All amounts are in USD. This information will be exchanged during discussions about the work in question. You can pay me via My Ko-Fi if that’s preferable (still uses PayPal), but I must know that is how you sent payment via PMs/email before you send payment so I can look for it. * The $5 initial fee (for starting work and the first words) is non-refundable, as are the fees for any extras you may have opted for, and that will be expected before any work begins. BUT DO NOT JUST SEND ME MONEY WITHOUT DISCUSSION OF THE WORK IN QUESTION FIRST. If I don’t like the commission idea and you already paid me, that’s on you, and I don’t want you wasting your money. * A brief excerpt from the completed commission will be sent for review prior to payment as proof of good faith. * The full commission will be delivered upon receipt of payment via PayPal. Unless I literally did not do something you requested (or did something you requested I not do), you are receiving the final product: don’t quibble over details or come to me with buyer’s remorse. Done deal, all sales final. * Your money is paying for my time and my work. If I really can’t finish your commission, I will do my best to get back to you and either discuss how to proceed or possibly a change in the work. (But legally speaking, you donated your money to me and it’s gone; don’t try something crazy like suing me to get it back because I have warned you. No refunds. But in most cases that will only be that initial $5 fee anyway).  * Word counts may vary. I prefer to write a story to a natural stopping point, so I could go above or below the word count goal by a handful. I will not charge extra for overages unless it is substantially more, and even then I will likely ask you first if you have more payment to offer. * Your commission will be delivered in DOCX or PDF format in addition to being posted. Hell, if you really wanna send me another $5+printing/postage fees, I’ll print it out at Office Depot and mail it to you, signed. (Separate transaction/arrangement though.)

CONTACT ME TO DISCUSS ON TUMBLR, OR HERE (drawn terribly in paint to avoid spambots):

Thanks in advance!

[echoeternally]

What do you do to get motivation? I have a fic that's been going on for years now. I have the whole thing drafted, I mostly know what I want to happen, though I sometimes get stuck on side details.

Motivation works differently for everyone. I wish I had one universal answer to simplify it, but it really depends on who you are and what drives you.

To help, I can give you some tools that I use to help inspire me, and maybe from that, you can find your answer as well.

Short version for that would be the following:

Books, Media, and Other Stories

Music and Art

Unexplored Territories

Rewinds: Re-read and Remind

Audience

Friends

Research

Creating Goals

Slightly longer blurbs will go under the cut to explain things.

Ok, let me explain some inspiration sources a little more. (And because each section is longer, this now is a very long post.)

Books, Media, and Other Stories: This is usually a good place to start, since you can help engage yourself to your work by getting into other things. Books get a particular special mention because writing and reading go hand-in-hand. This can be extended to comics and manga though. Media is the umbrella term for tv shows, movies, video games, and other forms that entertainment take to portray stories of different kinds. Other stories themselves are meant for the less conventional venues to explore, like articles or history, or even other fanfics as well. Each source has their own story to tell you, and by looking into things, you can find how storytelling flows from each of them.

It doesn’t have to all be good stuff either. Maybe you hated the latest episode of your favorite cartoon or tv series. There was a book you finished last week, and it just completely fumbled the ending into a mess. Perhaps history was duller than dirt. Think you can come up with something better to tell? Great! Then fire up and get into writing how you’d do it better.

Music and Art: Another good spot to rouse creativity. Music and art tend to help bring about some life into you that stoke your creative fires well. Both are broad to describe, but they each have a lot of forms to them, so you should go with what you like to delve into. For example, art doesn’t strictly have to be fan art for fanfics; maybe there was a cool painting you remember from a museum that you wanted to recapture or explore. That can be useful. Same goes for music, as maybe there’s a song’s lyrics that you want to elaborate on, or take into a story of your own.

Personally, I prefer music that doesn’t involve lyrics. Classical music and media soundtracks (movies, video games) are usually super helpful, because they can have dramatic flares to them, and don’t always have people singing with lyrics that you end up associating with the song, which becomes a story of its own. If you can get the right tune that you can relax to, it can then help you want to create a story that goes with the atmosphere. There are all kinds of feelings that songs can stir in you, so experiment and see what you like.

Unexplored Territories: Stories are mostly not quite groundbreaking in what they tell, but rather how they tell it. Nevertheless, there are numerous less explored resources that can be immensely helpful to get into. Most people go for realistic stuff, like cultures that aren’t as primed for media representation. It’s good when you’re doing grounded things that deal with people mostly. For those more engaged in fantasy, though, you’d want to get into stuff that’s not tied for cultures, or extract it from them. Maybe you look up a list of mythological creatures and want to write about something that isn’t the woefully tiring trend of wizards/witches, vampires, werewolves, or clowns. Even changing it up in simple ways, like establishing a difference between sorcerers and witches, or having werewovles, werecats, and werebears all in one story that operate differently.

But don’t be afraid to turn to real life stuff too, especially for less explored spots. I tend to use LGBTQ+ stuff (mostly gays) to both give representation to groups that I identify with, as well as use character dynamics that mainstream media is too afraid to touch. Those two main male characters that are best friends? Make them boyfriends. That lady who seems like she’s super sexy? She’s actually asexual. I’m not telling you to specifically use this stuff, mind you, but this is an example of less explored territories that you can have a little more flexibility with. Heck, it can even simplify the story you tell with minimal changes: Beauty and the Beast’s titular characters are both female. The rest of the story plays out as follows, but it now gains brand new angles to be explored by a small change. That’s part of why I also like shipping and going for “rare pairs” for romance stories: they’re not as explored, and therefore, prime for new content that can be exciting just by existing! 

Rewinds (Re-read and Remind): A simple concept, but sometimes you can help stir some motivation by looking back over your old work. Checking back on things can help remind you of what’s going on, or can help create the desire to continue what was going to happen next. It’s basic, but sometimes just the smallest trick to help start some sparks you lost.

It doesn’t have to be a lot, either. Maybe you just wanted to write up this one scene, but you haven’t gotten there yet. Write it anyway, and then work on how you need to get there. While you’re reading over something you wrote, don’t focus on editing, but on the content. Maybe there’s this one line of dialogue that you really loved, and it’s this excellent one-liner that defines your character really well. And then that can make you want to give more to them. When you rewind and recall things you had ideas for, sometimes reviewing them can help you expand on them.

Audience: Has anyone read your stuff yet? If not, ask a few people to do so! An audience can help you immensely, because their reactions help gauge what works and what doesn’t. By giving them content to look over, and interacting with your readers as well, you can end up helping drive yourself to want to deliver more to them. It keeps things flowing nicely! (And this is why writers cry a lot about wanting feedback: it super seriously helps out in a great big way!)

Make sure to look for readers too, not just other writers. Sure, other writers can give you tips and tricks, but they’re looking at it from a similar perspective to yours: the creator’s. For readers, they’re specifically interested in consuming the content, and therefore, have different interpretations and interests for the story. They can give you opinions that other writers can’t quite so easily offer, because they can be more to the point of entertainment engagement. (Writers do typically double as readers, though, so it works out either way.)

Friends: I wanted to add a special distinction for friends as opposed to audience. Friends are nice, but are infinitely less likely to read your work. Online pals, irl friends, whichever you’re comfortable with talking to, they’re still not always the people you’ll go running to so you can grab a new reader. But that’s ok, because you have other ways they can help!

Sometimes, just telling a vague summary of things that are going on in your fic can help you get interested in telling more about it, and to others that might understand it more. Telling your friends puts you in a spot that helps you come up with ways to break down your story to its bare bones, and then what you want to do to help build it up. Another way to go about it would be to listen to stories that they have to tell you. Maybe they’re not writing, but sometimes just interacting with others can help you with developing dynamics that people can share in stories. Or events that are so out there, and you can come up with a way to create a related scenario. (No, I’m not telling you to write your friends…unless they make good characters, lol.) Even just being with friends to take your mind off of things and relax? That helps out too, more than you realize in the moment or immediately after.

Research: It kind of goes with some stuff above, because by viewing media, other stories, unexplored territories, music, and art, you’re doing a type of research. Each one presents a different medium that lets you get to know about them, and the more you look into it, the more you learn.

But the cool thing about research is that it takes you places. Websites like TVTropes and Wikipedia can take you to all kinds of weird places, but that’s what makes them great! You end up learning new topics and angles to explore, and they can help inspire new ideas by doing so, or help you restructure ideas you might think are too cliché or simply don’t work. Delving in deep can be time consuming, but also can lead to major payoffs.

Creating Goals: This one I’m not quite as sure about, because it depends on what you’re looking for out of stories. Still, it can be a helpful boost in its own way, so I’ll include it. Goal creating isn’t just something like, “Today I want to write a sentence.” That’s good to do in general, but I’m talking a little more along the competitive lines.

You’ve got a fic written up, but you’re looking to keep it rolling. Maybe you’re exploring two neglected characters from a movie and giving them a new life. But, guess what? Someone else tried something similar about two years ago. Heck. Are you going to let that stop you though? Heck no! What you do with that is see what that story nets for ratings, and plug away at trying to match them. Don’t overwhelm yourself by trying to outdo them entirely, especially the top ranking stuff. You don’t have to be the best. But you want to compare as well, so see how your content measures up. If they have bookmarked readers that stack to several hundreds, and you can net half after writing about the same characters? That’s pretty great stuff on your part! Even if you don’t have something specific to go up against? Tackle the archives or stories in general! See how highly rated you can get your stuff to be, and duke it out to be visible among everyone else’s content.

This one is really dependent on your personality type, so if you’re not competitive, don’t put stock into it. But if you get fired up about a challenge? Bring it on!

…

…

There’s a bunch of different avenues that you can look into, and different ways to help bring some motivation and inspiration into your creative mind. These are some suggestions based on angles that I’ve personally attempted, so they may or may not work for you. But that’s ok, because you might be able to come up with more ideas as well.

It just depends on what you like, what you want to do, and what stories you want to tell. From there, just let loose and explore.

But, please do keep in mind to keep yourself (yes, you) in check and feeling good. Tired? Get some rest! Hungry? Go eat! Overwhelmed? Decompress and relax. Know your five senses? Engage them all! Your mood definitely matters as well, and it’s little things that can sometimes hold you back in major ways. Take breaks, and when you come back, things might flow a little easier.

No matter what though, make sure you’re having fun! That’s what really counts in the end, above all else. Do stuff that’ll make you happy, and you’ll flourish in ways you might not even realize. These may be typical lines you’ve heard in countless places before, but they’re pretty helpful.

Again, go for it, and have some fun with the writing!

[thecaffeinebookwarrior]

Depicting Black Characters:  A Writer’s Masterpost

I’m often asked for tips on how to respectfully depict Black people, or how to write from their point of view.  Because something about my marshmallow complexion evidently screams that I’m a jackpot of insider information on Black culture.

However, I appreciate that my followers want to learn -- that’s something we all need to do!  So I decided the time has come to compile a masterpost on sources from real Black people, so you can get your information right from the source.

More to come, and happy writing!

Literature

25 Amazing Books by African-American Writers

10 Must-Read Books by Iconic Black Authors

12 Unputdownable Books by Black Authors

15 Black Writers We Should All be Reading

Websites

Black Enterprise  -- a website for Black entrepreneurship.  

For Harriet -- an online community celebrating Black women through history and storytelling.

Tea & Breakfast -- a Black-focused website bringing you the latest in news and entertainment. 

Ebony -- a highly respected resource for Black news, entertainment, and lifestyle content.

Clutch Magazine -- a mixture of news and editorial pieces.  

Racism

7 Things Black People Want Their Well-Meaning White Friends to Know

100 Ways White People Can Make Life Less Frustrating For People of Color

This is What it Feels Like to be Black in White Spaces

Growing Up Black in America

Blogs

@writingwithcolor 

@vintageblackglamour 

@ofanotherfashion 

@blackhistoryeveryday

@blackwomenworldhistory

@ukblackhistory

@blackhistoryseries

@blackhistoryarthistory-blog

Tips From Followers

I’m inviting all my Black followers to offer tips on authentic, respectful depictions of Black characters and culture.  If you have something you’d like non-Black authors to know, please message me and chime in!

Anonymous said:

I'm mixed race- black and white, and I think its important to mention the cultural closeness; a lot of black mothers are very overprotective, and restricting. Hair is important. A lot of my childhood memories had to do with my mom braiding my hair, or straightening it.

Anonymous said:

Here’s a bit too much information about me, which I’d very much appreciate if you kept anonymous: I am an Afro Latina, my grandma moved from Honduras to Ny when she was 15 and so my entire dad’s half of the family speaks Spanish (except me and my cousins lol). They’re all dark-medium skin like me, so when they speak Spanish it tends to surprise ppl, but they take pride in that. My dad grew up in Harlem during the crack epidemic and he saw a lot of people die, including his cousin who was shot in the head in front of him when he was about 8. He has a lot of unchecked mental problems bc of this and tends to lash out when he’s frustrated, tired, or guilty. His dad was also a rolling stone and unsupportive, so my dad tries very hard to be a better, more supportive father for better or worse. 

 My father met my mother when they were in college through a mutual friend. They were together for a year before they had me. They never got married. My mother’s family is what we’d call a bit bougie, so they didn’t take too kindly to this. They never outright disowned her, but a lot of the time they treat her like a black sheep. They’re a very “whisper-behind-your-back, never-confront-until-ur-drunk at-the-family-reunion” family. My mom and dad were together on and off for 23 years. Whenever my dad hurt my mom (never physically but still) and she had the means to, she would take me in the middle of the night and run to a shelter or friend. This happened about 5 times, each time my mother came back after about a half a year. 

 I have anxiety depression and add but great empathy, so a lot of the time I can understand what people are feeling but not why (basically I have no self awareness). I am an English senior that lives on tumblr. I am also very reserved but I’d like think I’m kind, if a tad childish. I love rpgs, marvel, and making characters but I have perpetual writers block. I also draw all over my notebooks. I’m not good with my hair though (an offense) and I used to be called an Oreo (white on the inside) in school, but I’m really just have always been a huge nerd. 

I also have a baby brother who I love and pick on constantly even if I’m at a dorm. I’m very protective over him and we’re nine years apart so I tend to feel equal parts caretaker and big sister. I am very close to my family, especially my mom, who I talk to almost every day. I am always tired, sometimes to the point of not eating at all, even as I write this I am in bed. However, I love shopping and walking to seven different stores around town, even just to window shop, is how I spend some days off. Like my mom’s half, I’m pretty non-confrontational, but I’m quiet and don’t like to gossip, so my friends and family tend to confide in me a lot. But I’m pretty closed off, so I don’t tend to share myself. I am bisexual but I don’t want to talk about that, bc I’m still not sure. I don’t like to touch people or have people touch me unless I’m close to them.   

 My half sister is also bisexual, as well as a preschool teacher and a single mom with two adorable girls. I don’t get to see them often bc we always lived in different states. She is a very sweet lady but is very no nonsense, and will be the first to step up if someone’s in trouble. I also have a half brother, who is mildly autistic. We live in different states too, but I never see him because my father didn’t treat him right when we were younger, bc he was “soft”. He is currently living with his mom and writing a GOT-esque epic, which he is excited to tell people about.

@trappedinfairytales said:

A Writing Account From a POC

Loving to read is a bit of a double edged sword. I love the stories, the worlds they depict, and most of all, the characters. But sometimes, I find myself disappointed that most of my favorite characters in my favorite novels are not POC (person/people of color). And if they are, they are depicted as stereotypes. And as a POC and a writer, there are ways to change that. Here are a few tips.

POC are FRIENDS, not FOOD

Now I love chocolate. I love coffee. However, if I read someone describing my skin color as the color of a cappuccino, I wouldn’t be to thrilled. Saying, “Her skin was like sweet milk chocolate, the kind you remember begging your mom for through a candy store window.” I imagine would be the equivalent of saying, “Her skin was so milky white, I could imagine dipping an oreo into it.” Ew.

Not all African Americans live in the poorest part of the city

Not all African Americans are poor and underprivileged. Some of us have gone to private schools, have parents with well off jobs, and live pretty comfortably. That being said, that is not the case for all of us. So if you want to depict your character that way, just make sure you do it respectfully, and not in a way that you would cringe reading at it you were in their place.

Don’t take advantage of our history 

African American history is filled with hatred and oppression. That does NOT MEAN THAT IT CAN BE EXPLOITED FOR A STORY. By all means, mention how awful it was, but do not use it to make other characters and or readers feel sorry for your character. We may want you to feel sorry, but more than anything we want you to understand that what happened was horrible and that it isn’t okay to use it any way you want.

So, yeah. Just respect POC. Even though you probably can’t imagine being in our position, be sympathetic, the same way you would want to be treated if you were being stereotyped.

If you have any other questions about depicting POC’s and want to ask a writer who is POC, I’m happy to help! @trappedinfairytales

[raeofalbion]

Writing Pet Peeves

Someone asked about this a while back—the ask is gone but I think I’m ready to give my opinion on this. I wasn’t sure if they meant writing pet peeves as a writer or writing pet peeves as a reader, so I’m going to separate this into two sections and try to answer to the best of my ability. If you‘re easily angered by people bitching about things that annoy them, you might not want to read this. Also, as a disclaimer, I will not be calling anyone out by name. Just because that’s not how I do things. I might curse a bit, though. It’s also really long, so look under the cut.

Writing Pet Peeves As A Writer (in no particular order)

- When The Words Won’t Do The Thing

I’m pretty sure every writer has dealt with this. You’ve got this beautiful, perfect scene in your head and everything down to the last detail is perfect and you can picture it and you know it’s within your ability to write…and the words suddenly don’t come out right. They just…aren’t correct. The feeling’s gone and the details are off and nothing is coming out like it’s supposed to. You still have this perfect picture of the scene in your head, but it won’t come out into your paper. Why won’t you do the thing, words? What is your problem? Why have you forsaken me? WOOOOOOOOOOORDDDS?!?!?!

- Asshole Readers (Most Of Which You’re Not Allowed To Call Assholes Without Losing A Reader)

I feel like asshole readers fall into two categories and both are a pain for different reasons and I’ve got stories to go along with both.

So, first category: the outright asshole. I don’t mean the trolls who get off on being a dick, I mean the ones come at you, spouting venom, and acting like all their hateful words are supposed to, somehow, “help” you. For instance, waaaaay back (like 6 years ago) when I posted the first, not very good, draft of MoI I got a PM from a guy who had read through chapter 14 (about 60,000 words) and said “I’ve read through what you have posted and I feel like I wasted my time because you’re not putting any sex in. This is really bad. If you don’t have any sex in the story, it’s not a good story. Your writing would be so much better with sex in it. You should write a story with me because I write great sex scenes and you’ll learn something.” -very deep sigh- I could rant for hours about this guy, and how his response to my “thanks but no thanks” was even worse, but I will spare all of you from it. This, paraphrased as it is, speaks for itself I think. Please keep in mind that that draft was only on FFN…which doesn’t allow explicit smut and will delete fics with detailed making out. Now allow the soul crushing “you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me” feeling to grow. Please.

Second category: the “I’m not sure if you are purposefully being an asshole or not” asshole. This reader approaches as a fan, seems delighted to be in touch with you, and then…something happens. And you’re not certain if it’s a calculated thing or if they were just careless with their words and you’re over invested in your work, but it fucks you up nonetheless and, every time you think about it, it upsets you again. Usually, this seems to happen with readers being like “have you considered writing -insert thing here-? I think you’d be really good at it” and you consider it and decide “yeah, this would be fun to write”. So you write the fic, you post it, you tell the person “hey, I wrote the thing you suggested” and they just…never get back to you? Ever? And, if the fic is pretty niche and not something a lot of people are interested in, that kinda makes it even worse? Because, now, you’ve got this fic hanging around that no one likes and was written for a ghost that might exist but maybe you dreamed the entire fucking convo and now what the hell do you do with it? Was it intentional? Was it not? This is like conspiracy theory level paranoia-inducing stuff.

Continuing on from the second one, just…watch your words when you’re talking about a writer’s work. You might not have meant to insult my work, but I cannot read your thoughts through a computer screen. A while back I was approached about MoI (that fic has so many crazy stories attached to it) and, as anyone who has read it knows: the pair is a bi dude and a bi chick and they are bad at emotions. So this reader and I are chatting and they’re really nice and we end up chatting on and off for over a week…and then I bring up that I’m really proud of myself for recently getting better at writing romance and displaying it physically, which will be really useful in the fic’s sequels…to which they replied “well, I’m gay so I don’t care about stuff like that LOL” and changed the subject. Maybe it was a joke? Maybe it was a “I’m just reading for the story and not the romance”? But it really bothered me. This is gonna sound dumb, but I think about it almost every day and it’s been about a year since then. And every time someone reads without commenting or without liking it or I post something for someone that gets ignored, all I can think of is “I don’t care”. I’m not saying this to make you feel sorry for me or to be dramatic, just to warn you: never tell a writer—or anyone with a very specific interest that means a lot to them—that you don’t care. Even as a joke. It’s cruel and that’s the one thing that will stick with them even if they meet other people who love their writing or the thing they’re interested in. Anytime they’re snubbed or someone reacts unenthusiastically, all they will think is that it’s another person saying “I don’t care”. And, if they already have a hard time trusting people, this is going to fuck up relationships with other people, too. Just…think before you say something. You don’t know what harm you could do by being careless.

- Lying About Fic Trades

Usually, when you think of a fic trade, you think of two writers writing something for each other, but there is another kind, as well. This is when two writers like each other’s work and really need an outside opinion on their work and so they swap fics with the purpose of the other looking for errors and things to fix to help each other out. And this is what I’m referring to. When people are honest about wanting to do them, it’s really nice. You both get interesting opinions and thoughts you might not usually get if you only have one usual beta reader (like me). What pisses me off is when people claim to want to do this, but really have no intention of reading your work and are just using you as a beta reader. What’s funny is, I love beta reading and will totally help you out if you’re up front about what you want and I have time. You don’t have to lie to me and make me no longer want to be your friend just because you didn’t feel comfortable asking for editing help.

- Review/Like Karma

I just…really don’t like when people come up to me and are like “I reviewed and faved your fic five seconds ago so why haven’t you done the same for me yet?” Chances are, if you give me a fave/kudos and/or a review, I will immediately check out your profile to both see what fics you have and if you have anything interesting in your favourites. If one of your fics catches my eye, I’ll read it and react as I feel is appropriate. You don’t need to harass me into reading your story. If I’ve read it and am not responding, it’s because I’m not into it and I don’t want to be rude OR I don’t have the spoons for interaction today. If you harass me, 90% chance I will not read your fics unless by accident. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Don’t be a dick.

- “Do You Have A Book Done Yet? One Of You Own Ideas?  When Are You Going To Get Published And Be Like JK Rowling?”

Okay, I lied, I am calling someone out by name: I’m calling out my entire immediate family (with the exception of one person, who’s on Tumblr, and doesn’t do this). That up there are direct quotes. I get these at least once a month, mostly from my immediate family and it is one of the worst feelings? I always have a lot of projects going on because I can’t stand to be not working on something. So the constant “are you finished with something? Are you gonna get published soon?” is really stressful. Like…how am I supposed to keep a level head and put out a good product if I’m sitting here, feeling like a failure and like I’m disappointing people for not getting published? My relationship with my original stories are really rocky. I can’t just work on them if I’m not in the right headspace…how the fuck am I supposed to get there if I’m sitting there stressed about not just being published but being successfully published? First off, JK Rowling’s dividends are an outlier, not the norm. Most writers live below the poverty line because 1) you get very little from being published unless you are very, very lucky and 2) people seem to think it’s okay to pirate books instead of buying them which is literally killing well established series. Yes, folks, it’s not publishers killing long-standing series, it’s dicks who think “stealing is acceptable because I can’t afford this luxury item at this second and I declare that I should have it so fuck the creator getting the money they need to live”. Secondly, “one of your own ideas” is quite possibly the worst way to describe original fiction. You think I didn’t sit here, plotting out every fucking chapter of this novel-length fanfic? You think this isn’t my story, my baby, my writing, my ideas? GTFO. Get out of my house. Unfollow me now. I work on this fanfic more than most writers work on their originals in one day. This is my story as much as any original story is. You do not get to disrespect my work just because someone else wrote the original world first. I am done with this bullshit.

Anyway. Moving on before I start challenging people to fights….

Writing Pet Peeves As A Reader (in order from least to worst)

- Sloppiness

I’m sure someone’s going to read that and be like “Rae, wtf? That’s rude” but I don’t mean “you’ve worked on this fic for months and have 1 (one) typo in 30k words and now I will never read your work again”. I mean, like,  “you worked on this chapter for an hour, didn’t spell check it, the paragraphs are all smooshed together so no one can read a damn thing, and there isn’t a single consistent detail in this entire fic”. Usually, I’m very forgiving when it comes to errors (unless I’m editing them), but…like…please run this through spell checker? Check to make sure your paragraphs are spaced apart? Do not post 5 minutes after you finished writing the chapter? Seriously, the best thing you can do for a story after finishing it is to set it aside for a while and not touch it. You’ll pick up all the stuff you learned from writing the later bits and be able to make the earlier chapters look lovely will make the readers happy.

(Note: I’m only aiming this at people for whom English is their first language.)

- “This Thing Is Bad But I’m Gonna Write It Like It’s Good And No One Will Notice It’s Bad, Right?”

This happens so often and I just…ugh. It seems like the main theme people use in this is the “person A raped person B and person B got off so it wasn’t really rape” or “person A and person B barely know each other, person A tries to seduce person B and person B resists. Person A rapes them. Somehow this turns into a romance and they live happily ever after”. And the writer never addresses that this is not right. Never. This sends such a bad message to people. It’s telling people that “it’s okay if you’re raped, your rapist loves you and this wasn’t a traumatic experience at all because they did it because they love you so much”. This isn’t true. Writing about a terrible thing and not addressing how terrible it is doesn’t somehow make it a good thing. Nor does it take away the fact that someone was suffering and you ignored it.

- The Writer Is So Meek How Are They Posting This??? (Someone Get A Blankie And Something Nice To Drink And Give Them A Hug.)

This isn’t something that makes me mad at the writer, it makes me mad at their readers. I have met so many good writers who have been so badly bullied and cut down by their so-called fans that they are just…how do they have the willpower to post? Writers who are so talented, but are so afraid of going against a single thing their fans say that they never can reach their full potential because their readers won’t let them. How do you do that to a person? How can you act so abusive and not realise that your behaviour is toxic and oppressive? You’re hurting someone who just wants to make you happy and…for what? To have say over what they post? It’s disgusting. If you do this, you should be ashamed of yourself.

- That Point Where Greed And Lack Of Care For The Material Meet And Somehow Coalesced Into A Single Shitty Book

And now we reach the point where I will drop your story in a fuckin’ heart beat if you do this. This one is more common in published work based on other media (ie books for video games/movies). I hate, hate, buying a novel and realising, not even a chapter in, that the writer isn’t interested in their characters or the world or anything. The novel has the consistency problems I would usually be okay with forgiving in an online fic, but is presenting it snobbishly and makes it clearly known this is just a cheap grab for money they don’t even seem to want. No love for the writing, no interest in their work, and all I can think is: why are you writing this? You don’t want to be writing this any more than I want to be reading it. And the book is never good. Never. It’s just…bad all around.

- Pretentiousness And Assholery

Have you ever gone onto a fic that was really hyped and well-received and you were excited to read, only to realise the writer’s an elitist prick that is using the space intended for sharing their work to scream incoherently for pages about how much of a better writer they are than the canon writers and how they’re going to fix the canon writers’ fuck ups and “look at how great I am” that, by the time you got to the end of their pages of bitching and the beginning of their fic, you want to just throw your computer/phone/tablet out a window? And then you realise, at the bottom of the chapter, they have another author’s note of equal length? Better yet, have you ever looked up reviews for a novel only to see the writer screaming at fans in response to every negative review like a small child not getting the toy they wanted? Do yourselves a favour: don’t bother with these people. They are the absolute worst and don’t give a fuck about anything but their ego and how much you can boost it. They aren’t worth it. I have dropped so many writers for this, it’s not even funny. It’s one of the few things I just...can’t separate the writer and their work over.

Bonus: Censorship From The Fans

I’m going to preface this by, once again, stating that censorship does not include wanting things to be tagged correctly. Censorship is someone with power saying “I don’t like this thing and no one else should, either”. Censorship of literature is anyone with any kind of power (and, if you have followers on social media you are in this group) saying “I don’t like this book because I: a) don’t agree with its message, b) don’t like the writer, or c) didn’t read it but thought the summary sounded sketchy and am deciding I know more than the writer. And, any one of you that reads this or enjoys this is to be shamed and humiliated and abused along with the writer for the rest of time.” Which, maybe you’re not saying word for word, but that’s essentially what you’re promoting. If you have a following, you have a large group of people that is looking to you. How you act influences them. If you sit here, shaming people for their books, then you are an asshole. If you projecting to your followers that they should shame everyone who likes that book, you are even worse. What you post, what you write, what you encourage others to do, that is on your hands. You are responsible for any harm that comes from that. And censoring media to the point where people are receiving death threats over it is disgusting. And if that shit’s being started because you started it, you need to stop and take a look at yourself. No one should be getting death threats over a fucking book. (If you’re interested in seeing a video relating to this topic, you might want to look here: Link )

Thank you for listening to me ramble, to anyone who has made it this far. If you have any thoughts, anything you want to add or debate, feel free to respond. Thanks for your time.