#(I spend too much time thinking about what happens next & rereading parts that I like)

[laughing-sock]

I've temporarily banned myself from both ao3 and twitter until I finish my (belated) goyuugo week fic. it's working, kind of? unfortunately I cannot ban myself from work too 😔

if I could write faster than like, 5 wpm I would be so happy...

[clockwayswrites]

Bitty birb in the nest is worth...? Part 19

Masterpost This is going to have many typos and spelling issues, but it currently feels like I've got an ice pick in my temple and my skin hurts so there's no rereading happening atm. Sorry!

-

Danny looked up as Tim Drake-Wayne strode into the lab and closed the door quietly behind himself.

“Tim?”

“Mm-hum?” Tim hummed as he sat down his thermos before he shed his messenger bag, coat, and school jacket onto an open part of desk.

Danny watched on with bemusement. The kid looked half asleep. “Not that it isn’t great to see you again, but what are you doing here, honey?”

“Bruce is on a call running Luthor in circles and then has to talk to legal about some stuff because Luthor is always an ass. We’re supposed to go run an errand and then to dinner together, so I’m stuck here until he’s ready to leave for the day.”

“I’m sorry,” Danny said honestly.

“It’s okay, at least Bruce won’t forget, not like—” Tim shut his mouth with a snap, seemingly suddenly thinking about what he was saying.

“It’s okay, I get it,” Danny said, because he did. “You need somewhere to hide out then?”

“Yeah, it’s… calm here.”

“Okay. Sit wherever you want that’s clear. If you need to move something, let me know first, okay?”

“Thanks,” Tim said, shoulders finally losing some of their tension.

“Of course, whenever you need.”

Not wanting to push Tim in any way, Danny kept a subtle eye on the boy as Tim absently wandered around Danny’s office. To Tim’s credit, he did try to touch anything or move things around, even as he obviously grew increasingly tired.

It would be a lot, Danny supposed, to be a teen ager trying to live up to the legacy of two important families in the area, learn the business, go to school, and (hopefully) also spend time with friends. Danny knew how hard it had been only having Phantom as an obligation.

While, sure, Danny wished Tim had made chosen a less neck cramping spot, he was happy to see Tim finally settle down and seemingly fall asleep… under one of Danny’s work benches. Danny couldn’t fuss too much, he’d done that plenty in grad school himself. Once Tim seemed properly asleep, Danny got up to fetch his cardigan from the hook by the door and took it to drape over the sleeping kid. Tim let a little huffed breath of air before he snuggled further into the cardigan and settled back into sleep.

It made Danny’s heart melt in a way that he didn’t want to think too hard about.

It really was no surprise when about forty-five minutes later one Bruce Wayne poked his head into Danny’s office. The door was hardly open when Danny had his finger up and over his mouth in the universal sign of ‘shush’.

Bruce titled his head curiously. Danny gave a little nod of his head towards the workbench that Tim was sleeping under. Silently, Bruce moved to the work bench and crouched down next to it. There was a soft, amused sound before Bruce reached out to brush his hand over Tim’s forehead, as if habitually checking for a fever.

When Bruce returned to where Danny was working, he asked softly, “How long has he been asleep?”

“A little over a half hour. It took him about ten minutes to settle in,” Danny answered, voice equally quiet.

“Then do you mind if I let him keep resting for another fifteen minutes or so? He’s likely to wake up on his own then.”

Danny shook his head. “Nope, let the kid rest. He seems like he needs it.”

Bruce glanced at Tim, his expression that soft sort of worried only parents seemed to get. “He does. He works too hard at… everything. He’s always trying to prove himself even when he doesn’t need to anymore.”

Danny made a little questioning noise as he got back to fiddling with the annoyingly tiny screws.

“His parents were… demanding. They had very exacting ideas of what proper high society behavior was,” Bruce explained. “I’m sadly not the best suited at dismantling those ideas either.”

“Ah… well, what do you do that encourages him to be a kid?” Danny asked.

“He skateboards, actually. And he enjoys photography, but even that became a goal what with art competitions at school.”

“Maybe take him and Damian on a mini art vacation? Somewhere pretty. Somewhere where it’s not about judges,” Danny suggested. He finally got the last screw seated so he glanced up at Bruce’s thoughtful face.

“That’s a good idea,” Bruce said. “I’ll start looking at what might work. Thank you.”

“Sure, ideas are kinda what I do,” Danny said and motioned to the office around him with the screwdriver.

Bruce’s answering chuckle was low and warm. “I suppose it is. I hope you’re also not overworking yourself.”

“I’m doing much better,” Danny assured Bruce. “I just needed some rest.”

“Which my children made sure you got. I’m still sorry that they kept you so long on Friday.”

It was Danny’s turn to laugh. “Honestly, I don’t think you really have much control over what they do.”

“No, I really don’t,” Bruce admitted. “But I wouldn’t have them any other way.”

“That’s good; they’re a pretty amazing family,” Danny said with a soft smile. “And if I don’t get to be sorry about falling asleep, you don’t get to be sorry about making me rest.”

“You drive a hard bargain, but deal.”

“I am a master business man,” Danny teased and ducked his head to hide his smile.

“I’ll have to watch for corporate take overs. Keep an eye on the stocks and papers.”

“Maybe. Oh, speaking of… Well, not speaking of but sort of related? You know, I was joking about us making the papers.”

Bruce hummed curiously so Danny set aside his tools to pull up the story that several coworkers had sent him on his table. He spun it to face Bruce. The picture of them in the box was big on the screen. They were pressed almost chest to chest with Bruce’s arms around Danny. It certainly looked incriminating.

“Well shit,” Bruce said with a sigh. He picked up the tablet to scan through the article. There wasn’t anything in it, of course, just wild speculation. “I hope you haven’t been harassed about this by anyone.”

“I don’t think anyone knows who I am to harass me,” Danny said honestly. “Some coworkers have sent me it, but apparently it’s just my luck to have both randomly run into a Wayne and be invited to an event and have one of my ‘spells’ when I’m around them.”

Bruce looked at him with one well manicured brow raised. “You have interesting luck.”

“Yep. It’s been quite a life so far. I was pretty much born into interesting luck and life has really lived up to that luck and died by it,” Danny said with a little chuckle as he took his tablet back.

“I feel concerned by that last part.”

Danny hummed in question, distracted by pulling his notes back up.

“The having died by the luck part.”

“Oh.” Danny smiled, but he knew that expression was less than a happy one. “I think I mentioned that there was an accident when I was a kid?”

Bruce nodded and lean his elbows on the work bench and crosses his arms. “You did. One that is apparently still affecting your pulse to this day.”

“Yes, well,” Danny glanced away from Bruce. Why was it still so hard to talk about. “When I was fourteen, I was electrocuted at at an… industrial level of voltage. Unsurprisingly it killed me. And hey, obviously I came back! But that sort of thing sticks around.”

“I’m sorry.”

Danny looked back at Bruce, honestly startled. In all this time, Danny wasn’t sure if he’d ever heard a ‘I’m sorry’ about his accident, not without strings attached. His lips quirked into a smile again. This one felt more pleasant. “Thanks. Trust me though, I’m grateful that life has, had been calmer.”

Whatever Bruce was going to say to that was cut off by a loud yawn, the sound of someone shifting around, and then the unmistakable bang of a limb against the metal legs of one of the workbenches.

Quiet cussing followed a moment later.

“You okay there, Tim?” Danny asked.

“Fine,” Tim hissed back.

“I’m sure I have an instant icepack in my office. We can grab one before we leave,” Bruce said.

“B?” Tim asked, voice noticeably brighter. A moment later he appeared out from under the desk.

“Hi, sweetheart, sorry that I had to take that call,” Bruce said as he stepped over to Tim. He reached out to brush the teen’s hair a little straighter.

“It’s fine, it’s Lex, I get it.”

“I know you get it, but that doesn’t mean it has to be fine.”

Tim just shrugged. The action made him notice the the cardigan draped over his shoulders. A little blush rose on his cheeks as he took it off and handed it back to Danny. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for Tim, you weren’t any problem,” Danny assured him. “You’re welcome in my office whenever.”

“You’re going to regret that,” Tim said.

Danny just shrugged with a smile.

“Come on, chum, let’s go find that icepack. We’ll still get to your store before it closes,” Bruce said and started to guide Tim out by the shoulder.

Bruce glanced behind him and Danny gave a little wave to the retreating Waynes.

His luck indeed.

-

“What happened in Danny’s office that’s bothering you?” Tim asked. He had the icepack pressed against his elbow and was sitting almost sideways so that he could take in all of Bruce’s expression.

Bruce was doing that thing where he was feeling big, complicated emotions and wishing he wasn’t. Tim could read it in the way that Bruce’s shoulders were set, that little bit of tightening under his eyes, and the way he was very purposefully not frowning.

“B,” Tim pressed.

Bruce sighed, the sound all of his air. “I think we should leave Danny alone, both as Waynes and as Bats.”

Tim jolted and scrambled to sit up further. “Wait, what? Bruce, what happened?”

“Nothing bad,” Bruce assured Tim. “Nothing bad happened. Vicky got a picture of Danny and I at the ballet. We spoke some about it and Danny talked about how he had interesting luck. He said he was grateful that life has been calmer; he had to change that to had.”

“…oh.”

“It’s just that—”

“No, you’re right. I’ll try to talk to the others about it because you know they won’t listen to you about it.”

“I’m sorry, Tim.”

“It’s fine, I get it.”

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

hc for adrian having a girlfriend or s/o prior to his mother's death. they're human and maybe her apprentince or something. and the church takes her too, but before they can burn her at the stake, dracula shows up and rescues her because he knows lisa was fond of her. during adrians and draculas fight maybe she interbenes at a critical moments so drac doesnt kill him and alucard gets away but she's now a prisoner of dracula w/n his castle. and maybe she befriends the generals?

A/N: Aw, man. Sometimes I wonder if Lisa did have an apprentice, that maybe Dracula wouldn’t be as anti-human as he ended up being, or if she could start to turn him to see the error of his ways sometime before Alucard and Dracula end up in Adrian’s childhood bedroom. 

Apologies for the delays in updates. But my brain went WILD with this request so it’s a long one, I hope that makes up for the less frequent posting. Anyway, I hope you enjoy these somewhat bittersweet (then depressing then bittersweet again) headcanons! (Also this is unbeta-ed and prob grammatically messy as hell, so read at your own expense lol.) 

Word Count: 6.2k 

TW: Canon Typical Descriptions of Graphic Violence; Brief Mentions of Sexual Violence; Canon Death; Descriptions of Torture (the church is high-key fucked up here)  

Adrian W/ A Human S/O Reader (Who’s Also Lisa’s Apprentice, Prior to Her Death):   

━━━━━ ❂ ━━━━━   

The Beginning:   

Okay, so let’s get one thing straight… FIRST OF ALL, Lisa would adore you!!! Like, you make her baby boy happy and you’re smart??? What else is there to it? And then to top it all off, you’re super sweet and kind and interested in learning about medicine and the world around you!   

Lisa meets you once over dinner and she’s already planning the wedding in her head.   

Adrian is smitten, because of course he is, but in an adorable, somewhat restrained way. He doesn't have a lot (ahem, ANY) experience in this department, so he’s hesitant to take things forward with you, mainly because he doesn’t want to scare you off or make you suspicious about what he is. (It’s hard to make out with someone when you have two big vampire fangs in the front.)   

Adrian is young, like you. So, on top of all the complications, he feels no need to rush things. Sure, he’s heard a few whispers here and there about Dracula having a son, a son who according to rumors and gossiping villagers is to rise as the antithesis of Dracula. It’s all silly superstition, but it does stay fixed in the back of his mind. What would this future legacy mean for his relationship with you? And, should it ever come to pass, would you even be a part of it?   

That’s neither here nor there though, and in the meantime, the two of you simply enjoy the talking phase. You get to learn more about each other's interests, and beliefs, but mostly, you spend time in proximity to one another— you remain busy attending to his mother, learning all you can about healing while he, just a table over, spends his time rereading one of his many favorite tomes.   

I honestly don’t see you meeting Dracula until you and Adrian are like a fully committed couple. I’m pretty sure you would have to have been Lisa’s apprentice for a while and/or lived with the Tepes in their Lupu cottage for months before Lisa finally breaks through Dracula’s protests and makes him officially meet you.   

I don’t think that meeting would happen in Lupu either. No, I imagine it would have to take place at Dracula’s castle, just in case you were to freak out, you’d have no way of escaping and telling any others.   

I can almost see your reaction being similar to Lisa’s upon first entering the castle, especially if Adrian is already at your side. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure Dracula is terrifying, but there’s also a giant telescope in the next room calling your name so….   

Much to Adrian’s relief, this newfound information doesn’t make you frightened of him at all, if anything, it simply reignites your fascination with him. You throw rapid-fire questions at him: If he's part vampire, how come you’ve seen him eating human food? Does he need both food and blood to satisfy each of his halves? If he needs blood, he could take some of yours you know…   

Your penchant for learning softens Dracula a little. For a brief time, he wonders if, perhaps, it was as Lisa said, that the humans could change, that humanity was changing for the better.   

He sits across from you at their grand dinner table, watching you intensely as you and Adrian talk about the recent literature you’ve read. You’d no doubt feel Dracula’s all-powerful gaze on you, making you turn to him and… Wait, did you just smile?!   

You’ve got guts, Dracula will give you that.   

Knowing the family secret, you can’t exactly break up with Adrian, nor do you have any desire to. I wonder if Dracula would have rings made for the two of you, maybe commission a new family portrait or two.   

You stay with Lisa in Lupu during Dracula's travels. Adrian is around, although he's always off between the castle and their cottage, so you never feel entirely alone or vulnerable. Your life is perfect! It’s better than you could have ever imagined!   

That is, until…   

━━━━━ ● ━━━━━   

The During:   

When the Church comes to take Lisa, you beg them to see reason. You cry and scream, hell, you even try to fight your way out at one point, only for both you and Dr. Tepes to be overpowered by the Church’s henchman.   

The two of you are taken, violently, to Targoviste, where you’re thrown into dark, damp cells with little to no light. Freezing, you huddle together for warmth, each trying your best to reassure the other, that all will turn out well. Adrian was still around, right? He’ll have to come home to find you missing, he’ll come and rescue you. And Dracula was due to return soon, correct? Surely, they’ll come. Surely, they’ll stop this madness.   

It’s a few days later, after hours of interrogation and brutal torture that you realize with a heavy heart, that no one is coming to rescue you. And what’s worse, that these so-called men of the cloth cannot and will not listen to reason. You’re starved and beaten, your hair is sliced off so close to your skin, that they take bits of your scalp with it in some places. And despite initially being imprisoned with Lisa, you find yourself being separated from her for longer periods.   

The men try everything to get you to turn on her. They tell you if you recant her wicked ways now, say she used her evil magic to trick you, your sentencing will be easier. You could still live— they dangle betrayal in front of you as a last lifeline. You don’t take it of course. You love Mrs. Tepes, and you know she’s no witch. You muster what little might you have left, spitting at the men as you tell them to go to hell. You swear she’s innocent, that she knows nothing. Hell, at one point, you find yourself confessing to having manipulated her! You don’t think they buy it though, if the poor doctor’s screams from down the hall are anything to go by.   

The night they light the pyre, the night of Lisa’s murder, you’re sick on more than one occasion. You scream your throat raw, begging them to burn you first! That she was innocent! That you corrupted her! That it was all your doing! But to no avail.   

In a scene that could only rival the Crucifixion of Christ himself, you look up through tear-soaked eyes to see Lisa, enshrouded in flames, begging Dracula to show mercy on her killers, to forgive them, that they know not what they do. “I know it's not your fault,” she cries out, “But, if you can hear me, they don't know what they're doing! Be better than them. Please!”   

You sob and wail, watching as your would-be mother-in-law is burned alive. You scream out for someone, anyone! To please help you, save you! With Lisa’s last words echoing in your mind, you can’t help but fear Adrian’s and his Father’s reactions, should they find you both killed.

Oh, gods…   

You don’t know what makes you feel sicker… The barbaric display you’re witnessing now or the hypothetical one that threatens to wipe out all living people in Wallachia once Dracula learns of what’s happened. You need not wait long for an answer.   

In a fury of fire and grandeur, Dracula’s head appears, molded in flame, demanding to know what has happened to his wife. You cry out to him, apologizing profusely, saying you begged them to burn you first! You scream out how they refused to see reason, they killed her for helping! Injudiciously, in your indignant anger, you plead with Dracula to release his fury on the priests who did this, to send them to hell to be tortured for eternity for this unforgivable transgression!   

With the silent fury of a gathering storm, Dracula’s fiery visage speaks calmly as his anger grows concertedly less. "I give you one year Wallachians,” he finally decides. “You have one year to make your peace and remove any marks you have made upon the land. One year, and I'll wipe all human life from the land of Wallachia. You took that which I love, so I will take from you everything you have and everything you have ever been. One year."   

No sooner than he spits out the words, a coil of fire bursts from his image, winding itself around your body. The guards surrounding you gasp and flee, avoiding the coil’s tail as it whips back and forth, hoisting you into the air.   

The fiery coil burns your skin, and the smell of even more burnt flesh makes you gag. If you had any bile left over at all, you’re certain it’d come up yet again. The pain is like a thousand stinging nettles and boiling water constricting your arms and midriff all at once. Your vision grows blurry as you feel your body move through the air, your nostrils taking in one last wretched breath of sulfur and smoke.   

━━━━━ ◉ ━━━━━   

The After — Part One:   

When you awake you find yourself laid, practically bare, a heap on the floor within Dracula’s castle— the evil Lord himself only feet away, raging over his magic well— as shards of his magic mirror whip around him at incredible speeds. Your head is pounding, it feels as if it might explode, and your arms… Fuck.   

Where the supernatural coil grabbed you, your skin was red and raw, small pockets of blisters already beginning to form. Your arms tremble uncontrollably as you try to move them, the pain that’s consuming your nerves is far too intense to hold them steady as you sit up into an upright position.   

It doesn’t feel real; nothing feels real. It feels like a nightmare. It had all been perfect, everything was perfect— you all were happy! How did it turn into such horror so fast?   

Shakily, you rise to your feet and clutch the remains of your clothes to your chest in an attempt to preserve your modesty, although it’s more of a subconscious act on your part. Everything feels like it’s moving in slow motion, yourself included. It’s like the air is heavier here somehow, its weight filling your lungs and weighing you down.   

A loud noise shocks you back to the present, nearly making you stumble over in fright. At least you would have, had Adrian not used his superspeed to catch you before you fell. One of his gloved hands grasps your left arm directly over the burn, causing you to let out a hiss. His rectangular eyes look wider than you’ve ever seen as he releases his grip, looking over your battered form.   

“(Y/N) ...” Adrian says, his voice serious and quiet, barely a whisper.   

You shake your head furiously, unable to trust your ability to speak without breaking. Upon Adrian’s gentle insistence, you feel your mouth opening, and the words slipping out, scraping against the back of your reddened throat as they exit your frail body.   

“They killed her, Adrian…” you whisper, your voice quivering. “I, we tried to stop them, they just wouldn’t listen!” Somehow, your eyes begin to water again, despite your earlier certainty that your body had no water nor tears left in it at all.   

“Once she realized they wouldn't listen to reason, she lied and told them I was innocent. She told them she had manipulated me, that I was just a child, that I didn’t know what I was doing, that she never got the chance to teach me!” A feeling of guilt consumes you as you speak the words aloud, and soon enough, your body is once again plagued by uncontrollable sobs.   

Adrian listens intently to your words, his brows furrowed. You watch through teary eyes as a range of emotions flash across his face: anger, hurt, pain, sorrow, and finally… acceptance. Your beloved hardens his gaze, choking down whatever grief he may be feeling. At the present, Adrian knows, there are more pressing matters at hand.   

You follow Adrian’s steely gaze back, seeing his Father where he is bent over his summoning circle, cursing in a language that is foreign to you before he switches back to Romanian.   

“One year! It will take me one year to summon an army from the guts of Hell itself!” Dracula proclaims, promising to enact vengeance for the death of his love.   

“No.” Adrian counters, slipping out of your grasp.   

“Adrian,” you whisper, warningly. “Don’t—”   

“What do you mean, ‘no’? That woman was the only reason on Earth for me to tolerate human life!”  Dracula retaliates, enraged his son could even conceive of such lenience.   

“Then find the one who did the deed,” Alucard proposes. “If you set loose an army of the night on Wallachia, you cannot undo it, and many thousands of people just as innocent as her will suffer and die.”   

“There are no innocents! Not anymore! Any one of them could have stood up and said, ‘No, we won't behave like animals anymore.’"   

“(Y/N) did.” Adrian points out. “She tried to take all the blame, in an attempt to save Mother’s life.”   

Dracula looks over at you with blood-red eyes, contempt clear on his face. “And yet,” he snarls, “Here she stands, and my Wife, your Mother does not!” He hisses the last word, livid that out of the two of you, you were the one who survived.   

With large, fearful eyes, you watch as Adrian closes the gap between him and his Father.   

“I won't let you do it. I grieve with you, but I won't let you commit genocide.”   

“Adrian,” you warn again.   

The next bit happened all so quickly.   

Faster than you could blink, you watch, helpless, frozen in horror as Adrian charges his father, his longsword drawn. Despite their vampiric speed being unrecognizable to the untrained human eye, you swear you watch the scene unfold in slow motion. Adrian charges first, but Dracula, roaring in a fit of rage, counters faster— his Father’s elongated claws slash diagonally across Adrian’s chest, before his fist pauses, still embedded deep within your lover’s gut.   

You don’t have time to think before you act. To you, Adrian has the abilities of a god, but to his Father… It was clear there’d be no match. You have no clue how you got your hands on it, no idea as to how you even managed a successful hit, but the next thing you know, a triangular shard of magic mirror is impaled in Great Lord Dracula’s back, put there by your very hand.   

Too terrified to even breathe, the only sound you can hear beyond your racing pulse is a wet, gory squelch as Dracula retracts his claws from Adrian’s body. You hear the spray of blood before you see it, a rush of bright red blood gushes onto the marble floor between Dracula and his son.   

Standing at his impressive full height, Dracula turns ever so slowly, ever so menacingly, to face you. His pupils are that of a blood moon, his sclera so bloodshot they practically look as black as night. In that second, you know you’ve fucked up.   

You cower as Dracula raises one hand to you, instinctively shielding your neck from his nasty bloodied talons. With surprisingly repressed strength, Dracula backhands you, the force sending you flying backward, smashing into the base of one of the curved bookshelves lining the walls of his summoning room.   

With his focus still on you, Dracula stalks toward you. Knowing it’s now or never, you scream at Adrian to flee. “Run!” The words rip out of your raw throat, sounding like an eleventh commandment.   

You see Adrian, previously stunned by his Father’s disregard for his life, holding together the gaping wound across his chest. He has no time to even spare you, his beloved, a last look before evaporating into clouds, his cloud of bloodied mist bolting for the door, fleeing as fast as his injured state would allow him.   

Dracula only turns to watch as his son, his very possibly fatally wounded son, flees the confines of his castle. For a moment it is silent— only the sound of both yours and Dracula’s heaving breaths echo across the chamber.   

Clenching his clawed fingers into a fist, Dracula says nothing as he too makes his way to the castle doors, leaving your bruised and broken body alone in the dark.   

━━━━━ ❍ ━━━━━   

The After — Part Two:   

Somehow, Christ only knows, you find your way to one of Lisa’s old labs and do a half-assed job of patching yourself up. You find your burns and dislocated shoulder to be the most painful of injuries.    

Thankfully, Lisa had taught you enough about setting a patient’s shoulder that you managed to smash it into an adjacent wall, popping your joint back in yourself. The burns you wrap in honey and milk-soaked linen gauze, wincing every time the bandages brush against your skin. It’s awful work, slow work too, but you must have managed it alright because you find yourself patched up and passed out in one of the castle’s kitchens a few hours (or days? had it been days?) after that.   

You eat raw vegetables and berries— nothing that requires cooking. Lord knows you couldn't prepare anything successfully now even if you were to try. Eating your foraged meal in silence you debate your next steps. Do you go back home? Would your family even welcome you home after your long and unexplained absence? And if they, along with all the humans in Wallachia were ultimately to be driven from the land, did it matter anyway?   

‘Oh god,’ you think. You have to warn them, have to make them flee before a year is up. But where would you go? Where could you go? Greater Styria was a possibility, although it was not by any means an easy journey, and the climate there was much colder than your folks were used to here. You shakily rise to your feet and set out to find a map within one of the Castle’s many libraries.   

After a good night’s rest, you find your mindset with a newfound determination: you will go home. You were going to get your family on the move and then… Then, you’d come back here.   

You knew, in all likelihood, that returning to Dracula’s castle after the fact entailed certain death. But you also knew, things would get worse if he were to be left alone.   

Dracula may not have ever loved you for a daughter-in-law. Hell, he may not have ever loved anyone aside from Mrs. Tepes, but you promised her while huddling together that first night in those dingy cells that no matter what happened, should either of you get out alive, you would not leave Adrian and Vlad. “They need humans, (Y/N),” Lisa coughed into your ear. “And most importantly, humanity needs them.”   

Dracula would resent your company, he would want to be rid of you. But you could not be rid of him, not after what Lisa had asked of you.   

‘Besides,’ you thought, ‘Nobody should have to grieve alone.’   

The journey back home to your parents is majorly uneventful. Sure, it was touch and go for a while, your body was exhausted after the ordeal you endured, and your wounds had gotten infected once or twice. Thankfully, you had the mind to pack with you any potential treatments you might need.   

It felt good to be home, to be amongst family again. You couldn’t stop crying and hugging everyone when you first arrived. You kept the details to a minimum but made it clear they needed to be the hell out of Wallachia before a year. You told them you had found an apprenticeship, that the woman was kind to you, but while in Targoviste, you saw the burning of a witch, and soon after the face of Satan himself appeared in flames, threatening the crowd. It caused a panic, you see, and you had gotten trampled in the process.   

You didn’t bother to explain that the woman you were learning under was this so-called witch and that this Satanic figure was her husband. Nor did you tell them of your half-inhuman partner. You knew had you told the family the whole truth, they might have cast you out as a devil worshiper and a liar and choose not to heed your words.   

Your warnings spread through your extended family like how ivy creeps up a stone wall. A fair part of your relatives in the country believed you enough to agree to uproot their lives and settle outside of Wallachia: some settled on Syria, others had decided on Greece, Egypt, or Rome. The more skeptical ones who hemmed and hawed over the validity of your claims agreed to move into the countryside, a decent distance from any major Wallachian city or village.   

When you were certain they’d heed your words, you told them you could not stay with them, your Mother wept for three straight days and your Father could do little to console her. As much as it broke your family’s heart, you knew that your need to return to Castlevania was larger than yours. You weren't just doing it for your family, you were doing it for every family across the land. You couldn't be selfish. Mrs. Tepes was the most selfless woman you had met, and she taught you well. If you meant what you said to her when you first met, that you wanted to help people, you would need to buck up and accept the consequences of that.   

Your journey back to the castle was much more melancholy than your journey home. You could almost feel the whispers of the tortured souls Dracula had slain before blowing cold air into your ears, begging you to turn back. Nevertheless, you continued. You entered Castlevania to find you were alone, however, that would not be the case for long.   

Months later you had fallen into somewhat of a predictable routine within the castle and its new occupants. Dracula had recruited two humans to serve as his war planners— men by the names of Hector and Isaac, respectively. You appreciate the levity Hector, and his undead pets bring, and you admire the intelligence and loyalty Isaac has. You just wish they weren’t going along with Dracula’s plan.   

You tread carefully as you find the time to express to each of his Generals that you wish they wouldn’t go through with this plan. You explain humans are not the kind of species to give in to subjugation, they will revolt eventually. You suggest the vampires come up with some sort of tit-for-tat system with the humans instead like, for example, promised blood servants would equal vampiric protection for that territory.  

It’s safe to say no one is impressed with your centrist ideals, so eventually stop taking part in the conversation. You silently hang around Hector, and just listen with a sorrowful expression, satisfied with knowing that if you can’t change the Generals' minds, you can, at the very least, make them somewhat uncomfortable.  

When Carmilla arrives, you’re immediately put off by her little display of insolence. Unlike yours, her dissent doesn’t seem to come from a place of concern. You make a mental note to keep an eye on her.  

It’s during the General's next argument that you receive a ray of hope: “We are quite certain that Alucard sleeps at Gresit.”  

You feel your body grow lighter.  

“So, that means,” you speak aloud to yourself more so to anyone else, “Adrian is alive?”  

You’re met with a handful of annoyed glares from the other vampires as Isaac continues: “And that there was recently a Belmont there.”  

Upon hearing Carmilla berate the others for not sending night creatures to the ancestral Belmont home, your smile falls and your improved mood falters. These Belmonts were famous monster hunters, famous enough to frighten your current vampire company. That means, if there was a Belmont in Gresit, at the same time as Adrian, as Alucard, whatever the hell he’s going by these days, it could prove disastrous for your love. For all you know, he’s still recovering from the wounds dealt to him by his Father. And if this Belmont, this monster hunter strikes first and asks questions later, he may accidentally kill the only living vampire in existence who stands against the very nature of this war.  

‘How ironic,’ you think solemnly. Just as fast as the universe gives you hope, it rips it away once more.  

You excuse yourself, and make your way towards Hector’s forge, aiming to distract your distraught mind with some cute reanimated pets.  

Shortly thereafter, Hector joins you. He asks if you truly did not know Dracula’s son was still alive. You shake your head ‘no’, telling him how you had prayed every past night to any God who would listen, that they would send their holy armies and angels to guard him, but no, you had mostly just feared he was dead.  

You spend the rest of the night talking to Hector about Alucard, Adrian as you knew him. How smart he was, how much the two of you used to laugh, and how much he looked just like his Mother.  

“Perhaps that’s why,” Hector supposes, “Dracula could no longer bear to see him.”  

You say perchance he’s right, conveniently leaving out the part where the Father and Son duo almost fought to the death right in front of you.  

The conversation with Hector reignites something within you. You feel as if you had been praying all this time for an answer, and this was it. Alucard was alive, and so was Belmont. You understand now what needs to be done.  

Your lover must once again fight his Father, and this time, he must win.  

Your silent observations allow you to learn of Carmilla’s scheme fairly early on, as well as Godbrand’s demise at the hands of Isaac, yet all that time, you say nothing. You keep your mouth shut and your eyes down. If Carmilla divides Dracula’s army and court, she will inevitably make it easier for Alucard and Belmont to destroy him.  

The Generals, and even Dracula himself, believe you are mourning the loss of your love for the second time, as his demise will be inevitable the moment he meets his Father and his armies— or at least, that’s what they assume.  

When Carmilla has Hector send special night creatures to the remains of the Belmont home, you attach a letter around one of the creature's necks, hoping your love will notice it, and if he doesn’t, you pray he instinctively outwits the traps that await for him within his Father’s castle.  

━━━━━ ❂ ━━━━━   

Beginning Again:   

The night Dracula chooses to move the Castle to Braila, you manage to speak with him one last time.  

You bring him some tea, even though you know he won’t drink it, and you tell him, for what must be the hundredth time, how sorry you are about all that’s happened. You apologize for not being able to do more to save his wife. You tell him that if you could do it all over again if you were given a choice between who they should burn first, you’d demand it be you.  

Dracula turns away from the fire to look at you upon hearing those words.  

“She was fond of you, you know.” He says, sounding far away as if lost in a distant memory. “She was overjoyed at the thought of gaining a daughter”  

You nodded along a hurt smile on your face. “It was my honor.” Gathering your courage you continued: “Even though it didn’t work out, I want you to know I loved your wife very much… And,” you kept going. “I love your son very much.”  

Dracula said nothing. He simply turned his attention back to the flames within his study’s fireplace.  

“It’s not too late, you know,” you prod gently. “If Adrian is alive, he could still come back, we could still be a family-”  

“No!” Dracula’s low growl sent shivers down your spine.  

For a moment you feared he would rise to attack you or perhaps berate you further, but no such action came. Instead, the former Great Lord Dracula’s shoulders deflated back to their hunched position, as he fell silent once again.  

Quietly, you made your way back to your room, shutting and locking the door behind you. If you had any tears left at all, you would have shed them throughout the night. Instead, you merely lay awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering if there would even be a tomorrow to awaken to.  

Pleased to still be alive at this point, but feeling increasingly suffocated by this overwhelming sense of doom, you spend the next day cooped up in your room, on your knees, the rosary in your hand, whispering prayers of safety for your loved one. You couldn't explain it, but at the time, you felt compelled to recite prayer after prayer and reveal all the fears and worries in your heart.  

You speak out to Death, to God, to all the angels and saints, and beg them to grant Adrian safe passage as he completes his task of saving humanity— it’s something his Mother would have wanted after all.  

Amidst your fervent prayers, you feel the Castle shake and creak, but you soon realize something is off: it keeps jerking from side to side, several times, way too many to be a case of a single relocation. Your heart races, and in the pit of your gut, you know this is it:

The Alucard has come.  

Your love has come back for you.  

You scramble behind the door, poised with a wooden stake in hand (just in case, you never know), and wait.  

And wait.  

And wait.  

Following a crescendo of metallic crashes and screaming, you hear more crashes, this time lesser in intensity and they’re accompanied by the distinct scent of fire, sulfur, and burnt flesh.  

It terrifies you, bringing such horrible memories of your almost demise to the surface. You look down at the burn scars on your arms and feel physically ill. Every time you shut your eyes to blink, you see the corpse of Ms. Tepes, burning alive right before you as if no time has passed at all, as if you’re trapped in the permanent hell of that memory.  

The overwhelming ornery atmosphere in the castle only grows, seeming to suddenly flood your nostrils and every pore.  

You watch in shock and horror as thousands of soot-colored transparent ghouls burst through your doorway, the shock of the impact sending you reeling into the bed. Tortured faces of all shapes and sizes circle you menacingly, before bursting through your room’s glass window, vanishing just as fast as they came.  

Within an instant you feel… lighter, freer almost. It’s as if something major has changed, but you don’t know what.  

Timidly, stake still in hand, you make your way down the castle corridors. Unfortunately, you have to take several detours, your regular route being cut off by giant holes in the architecture. A good portion of the castle looks like it had been hit with cannon fire.  

You sincerely hope that whatever caused that damage is no longer rampaging around these halls, lest you stumble upon them yourself.  

By the time you reach the throne room, the sun is just peeking out from behind the horizon. The sight of it flowing freely into the castle interior lifts your spirits with hope. Sunlight means no vampires. No vampires means…

You follow the originating path of the sun’s beams, finding three figures illustrated against the sunrise. One of them is a burly-looking man, with a large frame and broad shoulders. Another is a woman, at least, you’re fairly certain they’re a woman, with curly hair, dressed in flowing blue robes. And the third is….  

You don’t even need a second glance to know who the third person is.  

Crying out his name, you run towards your long-lost lover, almost losing your footing over all the debris covering the floor. But just as he would before, and just as he always would, your lover, Adrian, catches you before you can fall.  

The two of you cling to each other for dear life, just silently sobbing, feeling grateful to be in one another’s embrace. You’re not sure how long the two of you stay intertwined like that, you just know however long it was, it could never be enough to make up for how much you missed him this past year.  

“Adrian,” you clutch his coat, “I thought you were dead! I thought he had killed you! I was so worried.”  

“He almost did,” the strange broad-shoulder man reveals in a teasing fashion. You watch as the robed woman elbows him in the gut.  

“Alucard,” Adrian says, regaining your attention as he grasps your hands in his. “I am Alucard now.”  

You look into his golden eyes, sensing while this is still very much the body of the man you loved, this Alucard before you, is not the same person that your Adrian was. After all this time, it feels like quite the loss, and yet, you cannot fault him for it. You are unaware of the journey he’s been on, of the sacrifices he’s had to make. God knows your character must have changed as well, living amongst a vampire court and necromancers for just under a year.  

You back away from your love, temporarily ignoring his concerned expression.  

“Hello Alucard,” you say, extending a hand, “My name is (Y/N). And I’d very much like to share a drink with you if you’d let me.”  

“Don’ know about Alucard,” the broad man mumbles, gripping his side in pain, “But I’d very much like a drink. Or five.”  

“Trevor!” The robed woman scolds.  

“What?”  

You smile at the three of them, feeling beyond blessed that your love has found such wonderful new friends.  

When you had first fallen for Adrian, you assumed your family would consist solely of him, his mother, and his father, that you’d spend the rest of your days learning medicine in a little cottage nestled in Lupu. That simple life was to be yours. But now, it’s all changed. And Alucard is all that remains of that family you once loved.  

You gaze out into the forest beyond the castle grounds, closing your eyes and sighing as you feel the morning’s sun on your face.  

Yes, it was true Mrs. and Mr. Tepes were gone.

It was true that the old Adrian could never come back.

But if you had to choose a new life, a life here amongst a gorgeous castle, with your former lover and his two new friends, well… you doubted you could pick a better one than that.  

A/N 2.0: WHY DID THIS TAKE ME SO LOOOONG? Who knows? Anyway, it’s here now. And hey— did you pay close attention to the symbols in the dividers? Go ahead and look back if you didn’t, just a silly little fun symbolism storytelling. Oh, also, I will finally be updating The Queue List to reflect all the asks I’ve since answered and posted to not confuse people checking on the status of their ask/new readers.

If you liked reading this, please REBLOG! Likes are great but reblogs spread my work much further. 

If you really, really liked reading this, Consider Buying Me a Coffee <3. 

[planet-dusk]

Hard thought about pervy bff Han. I was rereading raspberry sour and the concept is just so 😚🤌

So you're snuggled up with him in bed for movie night, but fall asleep & spend the night like many times before. You're wearing a cute halter & skirt because you hadn't planned come clothes ahead to sleep over. He turns the volume down on the movie, but he can still make out your cute form in the soft glow from the TV. You're splayed out comically, totally derpy but knowing you're in a safe place. He gets distracted by your open legs. He caresses your soft thighs and slides your skirt up to get a closer look at what panties you chose today. He's grown quite bold on your movie nights, taking the chance to squeeze your tits once he knows you're out. On nights when you wear his clothes to sleep he slides his hand underneath his own T-shirt to give your little nubs the attention they've been begging for, poking out and staring at him loose and free from your bra. He keeps it a little chilly when you're over, silently hoping you'll stay and he can touch you again. You wiggle and moan, but don't wake up then so why would you now? He settles down close enough to see your black thong and physically can't restrain himself from giving your pussy a kiss right through the little fabric. He goes to pull back, but the your expected wiggle and moan pushes your thighs right up against either side of his head. He's trapped for a second and moves forward so that his movements don't jostle you too much, but it forces his nose to press harder on your clit. Your thighs tense again, but then relax at the nice sensation. He nuzzles you again, and again. Once he starts to feel how sticky you are he pulls the tiny triangle of fabric out of the way and eagerly laps up the evidence. Your mouth falls open and your brow furrows in pleasure, but he doesn't let up. He slides his boxers down just enough to grab his dick and take the edge off, but alternating between sucking your clit and tonguing your folds voraciously brings both of obvious pleasure. You quiver around his tongue with a sigh and flood his mouth for the final time. He cleans you as thoroughly as he can, squeezing himself and leaking on the sheets in ecstasy at your sweet taste and feeling like the best bff in the world for taking such good care of you in his bed. But his heart is racing, he looks up to that sleepy O face that started as just parted lips and suddenly he has to cum, and his strokes never falter because it's happening right now. He scoots up just in time to aim for your tongue. Not a single drop spilling down your pretty face. He closes his eyes and bites his lip, refusing to make a sound as his creamy spurts fill your mouth. His eyes snap open when he feels the tiniest bit of pressure thinking you've reflexively closed your lips at the sensation in your sleep, but no. You're staring up at him with your lips around his sensitive head. You squint in bleary-eyed awareness of what's happening before swallowing the salty surprise in your mouth. With eyes locked in with yours, he holds his breath for the fallout. You have absolutely no idea what to say in this situation, so instead you snake your tongue chasing the flavor and licking the still perfectly positioned head of his cock as you think of what you do next.

gahh i need desperate pervy bff sungie so so bad <33 you'd tease him for being so needy, sinking down on his overstimulated cock and forcing orgasm after orgasm out of his spent body as punishment for his impatience. spit and tears stain his face while you mock him for being such a dirty, pathetic boy. if he wanted your cunt so badly he'll get it; but you won't stop until you're satisfied.

[linkspooky]

Hi there, I was rereading your Maki Zenin fanfic (Tyler Durden and the Culling Game piece). I must say when I read it the first time reading it, the way you depict her mentality, emotion, and actions. It was so emotionally draining and at the same time cathartic as it reminded me of myself back then and now still (well minus mass murdering all lotta people). But also surprised me, cause I have never this depiction of her after Shibuya Incident. But over time as I look at your analysis on various characters and paid attention to her upbringing by rereading the manga chapters focused on her, I realized the way she behaves in the Culling Games after what happen to her throughout her life. She is kind of stable??? Regardless, even though she is already my all-time favorite character. Your depictions of her makes me love her character even more as I actually relate to her more and felt those similar feelings. But I'm glad she is alive and is doing ok near the end of the manga, so I wanna ask. What do you think about her character now since JJK is VERY close to its end? And how do you feel about where she is right now as of Chapter 269. Sorry for the long ramble, I might ask more lol.

Thank you so much for your ask! That reminds me I need to start updating my culling games fic again sometime soon. For anyone curious the ask is about THIS YUTAMAKI FIC HERE.

Maki's kind of a hard character to talk about because even though Maki is clearly one of my favorite characters to explore in fic, and I love to dive deep into her motivations and inner struggles in the fanfics I write every time I criticize her writing in canon a little bit her fans jump me.

So instead I'm going to share one recent Maki scene I really liked, and one little tweak I think would have made both Yuta and Maki's character endings perfect.

You're right, for a lifelong abuse victim who just murdered her family Maki seems oddly stable all throughout the culling games. I no longer think this is a Maki specific problem, but rather a Jujutsu Kaisen problem. Basically, post Shibuya most of the character conflicts in between characters are dropped so everyone can work seamlessly together as a part of one big team.

This is a storytelling choice on Gege's so he could eventually set up for the Shinjuku Showdown fight, it'd be impossible for everyone to keep jumping in and out of the fight if people kept stopping to argue and have interpersonal conflicts in the middle of it.

If your name wasn't Megumi or Yuji, then basically all your personal hangups, your self-reflection, all got dropped. Which now it kind of makes sense why the audience was yelling at Megumi for not being able to immediately get over his sister's death, like in comparison none of the other characters spend any time at all dwelling on personal issues because Gege needs them to move to the next fight.

I'm not complaining, I'm just saying this is how Gege chose to write his characters post Shibuya, most personal conflicts got dropped for story reasons.

However, there was one moment that made me really get on board with Maki's writing again, and it was a... you guessed it moment of personal conflict.

This moment where Yuta is bringing up the idea of body swapping with Gojo before the group, and Maki despite being firmly against it is unable to do or say anything substantive to stop Yuta.

It's the first time I've seen that yeah, Maki is still in fact reeling from the loss of Mai. It doesn't really show most of the time on the surface, but Maki's always been like that - like an island able to stand strong without the support of anyone else. It is her strength, and also her greatest weakness.

Remember, the last time someone she loved walked away from her and decided to sacrifice their body and autonomy so they could become a weapon for the greater good Maki wasn't able to say or do anything to convince Mai to stay with her and stay by her side too.

There's the parallel with Maki and Sukuna, that Sukuna chose to devour his own twin in the womb in order to survive and therefore gained a body perfect for sorcerery. When Mai died, Maki gained a body just like Toji's.

Maki carved everything away in order to become a true void, but unlike Sukuna she didn't do it by choice.

We know she wouldn't willingly sacrifice Mai. She begged Mai to stay. Yet, she kind of did choose to sacrifice Mai with every choice she made before that. Maki chose being a Jujutsu Sorcerer over Mai every single time, to the point where when it counted she couldn't do anything to convince Mai to stay.

Maki consumed her twin and became a monster like Sukuna, a true void. She didn't choose to do it per se, but every choice she made leading up to that point indicated to Mai that Maki would rather be strong on her own then weak together with Mai. That Maki is someone like Gojo, and like Sukuna meant to stand strong all alone. Maki is an island and that is her greatest strength and her greatest flaw.

As when it happens again and someone she loves is about to become a monster, she can't find the words to convince Yuta to stay with her on the beach instead of walking into the ocean the same way she couldn't find the words to stop Mai. After all, Maki is someone who chose to become a monster like Toji after losing everything else, what right does she have to stop Yuta from becoming a monster too?

How could she possibly stop him from walking the path she walked? I think it's telling to thde depths of her love that Maki who values being a sorcerer above everything else, would have rather had both Mai and Yuta stay human and stay with her, but also telling of her complete inability to express that love.

It's "You're too important to us" because the words "You're too important to me," doesn't occur to Maki in both cases with Yuta and Mai, because Maki is an island. She can keep going on even after Mai and Yuta are gone even if she doesn't want to.

So here is the one change I would make the Maki's endgame to make her and Yuta's character arcs perfect. I would just have Yuta not be able to come back from Gojo's body. Otherwise, Yuta being magically fixed after the fact makes that whole plot twist kind of inconsequential and as much as I love Yuta in Gojo's body it kind of just seems to exist for shock-value now considering how easily it was resolved.

Yuta not coming back would provide a consequence for Yuta defiling Gojo's body, and also in general give the perfect bittersweet ending to both him and Maki's arcs. They both chose to become monsters in the end to defeat Sukuna, and as a result Maki is standing alone at the strongest. It would also provide the perfect parallel to this scene with Geto and Gojo. You could even have Maki musing on how she was left behind again. There's a pretty big parallel to Maki and Gojo both being people who seemingly don't need anyone because they're so strong and self-sufficient and yet they crumble at the idea of the one person they've always been relying on walking away from them.

It would also parallel Megumi and Itadori as well, because the reason that itadori is eventually able to reach Megumi is specifically because unlike everyone else he refused to give up his humanity to defeat Sukuna.

You could have a really heartbreaking parallel of three generations of friendships broken apart by the Jujutsu World. Satosugu, and YutaMaki aren't able to reach each other and stay together, but finally by never giving up on reaching out towards one another Megumi and Itadori are both able to find each other again after the world and Sukuna pulled them apart.

I do enjoy this scene a lot - especially the parts where Maki seems borderline arrogant by insisting she could have done things all on her own and if they went with her plan instead of Yuta's then they would have suffered far less losses. Especially since Maki's not genuinely trying to chew Yuta out here, she just knows no other way to express her worry over him besides being hyper aggressive and confrontational.

It still shows that Maki's personality problems are all still there, she loves people a lot but she loves people from afar and can't admit to needing them but like I'm just saying we could have had THE UTLIMATE DOOMED LOVERS ending for YutaMaki.

[cevansbrat0007]

The Ache

Summary: You decide to tease Andy on FaceTime during your evening bubble bath.

Warnings: Smut, Needy Andrew Barber, Bubbles, Cursing, Light Masturbation, Phone Sex, Oral Sex (fem receiving), Thigh Slapping, Minors DNI

A/N: Request courtesy of an anonymous reader. Hope it's okay. Part of my ongoing Growing Pains Series. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

___

You slowly sink into the tub with a sigh, reveling in the feel of the warm water as it envelops your tired body. After a long day of juggling presentation after presentation for your increasingly organized boss. If you were being honest, it was starting to become a real concern. Especially now that it was affecting your ability to see your man. 

To be fair, it had only been two days since you’d seen each other last. And you certainly talked every night. 

But there was just something about that damned Andrew Barber. He’d managed to get under your skin in a way you hadn’t anticipated. Frankly, you could spend hours doing a deep dive trying to examine the hows and whys of it all. Or you could just accept it for how it was. You’d gone and fallen hard for the man.

And it had all happened without your fucking permission.

A smile forms on your lips, something that always happens when you think about your Andy Bear. On a whim, you reach for your phone sitting next to your wine so that you can reread the texts you two had exchanged earlier in the day. You scroll through messages, chuckling at the photo he’d sent of him supposedly languishing away at his desk with the caption “thinking of you” written underneath. 

You’d been in the middle of working on updating your media calendar when his text had come through, so you hadn’t had time to respond. But now that you’re alone and buzzing from your last glass of wine…

You open the camera app and flip the screen so that you can snap a picture of your knees peeking out from beneath the bubbles. You allow your thumb to hover over the button for a fraction of a second before finally hitting send, only to follow it up with the words: thinking of you too. 

And then you wait, biding your time as you take a sip of your drink. You hadn’t really done much sexting in the past, having always preferred to play it safe. But you also felt like you could trust Andy with this part of you. 

Besides, it was just your knees along with a hint of thigh. Not exactly material for revenge porn, you know?

You jump when your phone begins vibrating in your hand. Of course it’s Andy…and he apparently wants to FaceTime. Oh God! Squealing softly, you briefly debate whether or not you should answer even as you swipe accept. 

“Hey, baby girl.” Andy purrs. “I was just thinking about you.” 

Just to recap, you were currently sitting naked in the tub, mid-bubble bath, on a FaceTime call with your boyfriend. No big deal, right? Not really. Except that you had never done anything like this before. And certainly not with him!

“Why you got me facing the ceiling? I’d much rather be looking at you, gorgeous. Especially after you sent me such a pretty picture.”

“Hi, honey.” You whisper. Sitting up a little straighter, you adjust the angle of your phone so that he’s looking at your face instead.

“There you are.” He smiles and takes a sip of his beer. 

“Yep…here I am.” This whole situation has you understandably nervous, and more than a little turned on. You felt so…naughty like this; talking to your man while enjoying a deliciously warm bubble bath. “What are you up to?” Your free hand snakes out to grab your glass of merlot.

“I think a better question is…what are you up to?” Andy winks at you then, catching his bottom lip between his perfect teeth as he leans into the camera. Almost as if he’s trying to get a better view of you in all of your sudsy glory.

“Mm…just relaxing with the help of some wine and a little music...”

“And a nice, hot bubble bath, huh?” Your man eagerly finishes for you. “Can’t go and leave out the best part.”

Ooh, here we go. You think as a delicate blush creeps its way across your cheeks. 

“Mmhm. Gotta do something to relieve all this tension.” You playfully crinkle your nose as the words come tumbling past your lips. “Especially since someone isn’t around to take care of it for me.” 

“Now that’s just – ugh! Baby, you’re not even playing fair.” He grumbles, scrubbing a hand over his chiseled jaw. “Let me see you.”

“I’m right here.” Instead of complying, you toss him a little wave. Paying special attention to the way his eyes darken as he watches the water drip from your fingers.

“You know what I mean.” 

“Do I?” Feeling bashful, you look away from the screen. And then you flip it, gifting him with a glimpse of your newly polished toes. “How’s that? You like the color?”

“Love it. Now let me see the rest of you.” Andy growls low in his throat, his voice pitched to arouse.

“I think you’ve seen enough, Andrew. Now, tell me about your day.” You try to sound serious, but it’s hard when he’s looking at you like…well, like that.

Like he’s going to spontaneously combust any second if you don’t give him what he wants. 

“It just got a hundred times better five minutes ago.” You roll your eyes, silently letting him know that that was so not what you meant. 

“Fine.” He grunts, looking every bit as impatient as he sounds. “I drank too much coffee this morning. The chili dog I had for lunch gave me heartburn. And now my dick is hard as diamond watching you splash around in the tub like a fucking mermaid, while I'm stuck here on my couch halfway across town.” He takes a deep pull from the bottle in his hand. “That descriptive enough for you, sweetness?”

“Not bad.” You offer up a delicate shrug. “I give it a solid seven out of ten.” 

“C’mon…” Andy groans, dragging his long fingers through his already tousled brown locks. “Swear you’ve got me dying over here. Lemme see you.”

Heaving a playful sigh, you finally decide to give him what he wants. Not much, mind you. Just a little somethin’ to tide him over until you saw each other next. Which would hopefully be tomorrow.   

You angle the camera down, allowing him a brief glimpse of your bare breasts. Giggling, you lightly splash the water onto your chest, loving the strangled moan that rumbles from somewhere deep in his throat. 

“Like what you see, Big Man?” You purr as you slowly slide your wet fingers down your body, past your navel, and into the water below. A whimper escapes as you stroke between your folds, gently parting your lips to caress the swollen bundle of nerves currently begging for your attention.  

“That’s right, baby.” Your boyfriend rasps as he leans in for an even better view. “Touch yourself for me. Pretend it's me playing with that sweet pussy.”

“But you’re n-not.” You tell him as your hips begin to rock, sending water sluicing this way and that.  “Doesn’t feel as good as - as…” Your words trail off as you swirl the soft pads of your fingers over your needy clit, trying your best to soothe the growing ache. “Ooh…”

“I know, baby. I know. But don’t stop…” Off screen, you hear the distinct click of a belt buckle, followed by the quiet undoing of a zipper. “Not yet.”

Biting your lip, you give him a small shake of your head before removing your fingers and sucking them into your mouth. “Mmm…so good.” You tell him, noting the way Andy’s blue eyes simmer with desire and a hint of jealousy.

“You taste divine, baby. But I don’t recall giving you permission to stop yet.” Comes Andy’s husky growl, his tone filled with unbridled need.

“But I’m done. And the water’s getting cold so…” You raise a hand to toy with the messy bun adorning the top of your head, lightly twirling the kinky curly strands. “Guess it’s time to say goodnight.” 

“Now hang on a sec, sweet girl –” Andy pleads. 

 “Sweet Dreams, Andrew.” You tell him with a saucy wink. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Don’t you dare –” You end the call before he can finish before setting aside to finish your bath. After reheating the water, you take your time to exfoliate using your favorite body scrub, all the while still grinning like a fiend. 

You knew that you shouldn’t have teased your poor Andy Bear like that. But you couldn’t bring yourself to feel too bad. You’d be sure to make it all better whenever you saw him next. Which would hopefully be sooner rather than later.  

___

Two hours later…

“Fuck!” You hiss before rolling over and punching your pillow for what had to be the umpteenth time. You’d been tossing and turning for easily over an hour, but try as you might you just could not fall asleep. “Hate this shit.” Frustrated, you flop onto your back and stare at ceiling.

Yeah, you’d tried to make some magic happen after you’d finished getting ready for bed, but you just couldn’t seem to get yourself there. But it certainly hadn't been for lack of trying. And then when you’d gone to bust out the big guns, your favorite vibrator had decided to die on you approximately thirty seconds after turning it on. 

You had even briefly entertained the idea of calling Andy again. Deep down, you knew he would take pity on you, even after your little stunt back there in the bath.

But he would definitely make you work for it. 

Of course he had tried to call you again after you’d hung up on him – twice, actually. And while you hadn’t answered, you may or may not have shot him another picture of yourself wearing a bikini top made out of bubbles. 

All you’d received in return was a simple text calling you a little fucking brat.

So, you’d messaged him another photo. This time of you blowing him a kiss. Which also happened to consist of bubbles. Had to keep with the theme, you know?

If you were being honest, and you were, you’d brought this on yourself. And now you were being made to suffer. Meanwhile, your sweet Andy Bear was probably at home fast asleep dreaming of...

Your thoughts are interrupted by what sounds like a knock at your front door. Sitting up, you spare a glance at the clock, revealing that it was well after 1:00am. Who the fuck could that be at this hour?

You hear the knock again as you climb out of bed and scamper into the hall, hurriedly throwing on your silk robe as you go. Rising on your tiptoes, you go to peek out the peephole. Only to be surprised when you see your boyfriend standing on the other side.

“C’mon, baby girl.” Andy mutters to himself as he prepares to knock once more. “Open up already.” Confused, you make quick work of undoing the locks before wrenching open the door. 

 “Andrew…it’s the middle of the night.” You breathe, drinking in every inch of his sexily rumbled form. “Is – is  everything okay?”

“No.” He grunts, his tone gruff as he rakes both hands through his hair. “Couldn’t fucking sleep.”

Andy pushes his way inside your apartment, forcing you to take several steps back. “Every time I closed my eyes, I had this fucking vision of you all wet and covered in those damned bubbles.” He kicks the door shut before reaching behind him to click the lock into place.

Appearing every inch the predator, Andy slowly advances on you, backing you into a nearby wall. “Kept fuckin’ teasing me. Couldn’t get you outta my head.” He pins you against the cool surface, holding you hostage as his brawny arms come to rest on either side of your head. 

“Look what you did to me, baby…” His head dips as his mouth crashes down on yours, making you whimper. His tongue sweeps past your lips as he buries his big hands in your hair, his fingers deftly massaging your scalp before removing the tie and freeing the wild strands. 

“Oh God...” You moan into the kiss, arching your back as he dominates your body with each demanding flick of his tongue, each sinful nip of his sharp teeth. “Andy, I – fuck!”

He picks you up by your ass, walking you further down the hall and into your living room. Hot, wet kisses rain their way down your throat as he begins to fight with your clothes – tearing off your robe and casting it to the side. It catches the edge of a lamp, sending it crashing to the floor. 

Not that you care. Your man’s got you so wound up that you barely even flinch at the sound of it shattering into pieces.

“I’ll buy you another one.” Andy growls as you both tumble on the couch in a flurry of tangled limbs. 

“Who gives a fuck?” You hiss, tugging at the lobe of his ear with your teeth as you go to remove your cami, accidentally hitting him in the face with it.

“I need you, baby girl.” He rasps against your throat, sucking on the tender flesh. “So bad that I fuckin’ ache.” He presses your hand to the impressive outline of his cock. You squeeze him through the thin fabric of his sweats, loving the thick feel of him as he grinds against your palm. And then he pulls away, eliciting a small whine from you.

Standing, he seductively peels the shirt from his body. Your mouth waters as the glow of the moonlight washes over him, drawing your attention to his taut, defined abs. 

“Need you to fix it, baby.” Andy purrs after he kicks his pants aside. His head tips back as he fists a hand around his girth, slowly pumping up and down. “Fix me.” Groaning, he increases the speed of his strokes.

His lust-filled eyes find yours, watching your fingers as they skim beneath your cotton boyshorts to play with your pulsing clit. “Please?” He murmurs, his soft plea filling the room as he towers over you – his hard cock level with your hungry gaze. 

“Yes, Andy.” You nod, swallowing thickly. “I - I’ll fix it.” He sinks to his knees in front of you, his slightly calloused palms coming to rest on your thighs. “However you need me to." 

“Thank you, sweet girl. Thank you.” Your man presses an open mouthed kiss to the sensitive skin just behind your knee. “Always so good to me.” He settles in, draping your leg over his shoulder.

“What are you –?” You gasp, your small hands gripping his head as his luscious mouth descends towards your pussy. Pulling your panties to the side, he buries his face between your thighs, nuzzling the sensitive nub with his nose. 

“Oh yeah.” He growls as he does it again before gently lashing at your bud with his eager tongue. “Can feel myself getting better already.”

“I thought you wanted me to – to…ungh!” You cry out when he smacks your hip. Once. Twice. You knew without a doubt that you were going to be covered in his marks by the night’s end. 

“You promised to help me however I needed.” Andy hums as he continues to feast on your most intimate flesh, his beard scraping against your inner thigh. “So shut up and take it.” His tone comes out gruff, even though he’s clearly reveling in every sweet, breathy moan and whine that leaves your lips.

Instead of ripping your panties in two like he normally would, your Andy Bear forces you to hold them to the side so he can concentrate on the meal you’ve so generously set before him.

“You’ve got a lot of healing to do, baby girl.” Two thick, talented fingers find their way inside you, searching for that special spot that was guaranteed to drive you wild. You feel your hips buck on their own accord as your toes start to curl. “Hope you’re ready for a long night.” 

Andy sucks your clit into his mouth, shaking his head as his fingers continue to pump in and out of you. You thrash against his hold as you feel the coil in your belly tighten as it threatens to snap, sending you plummeting over the edge into bliss.  

“Because we’re only just getting started.”

END

[13eyond13]

hi, not too long ago, i read death note one-shot 2020. i really enjoyed it, but i have a question. What would have happened if Minoru never died. Do you think Minoru and Near will have met each other. I hope you have a headcanons about them.

Hi! Thanks for the ask, it was fun to think about the 2020 one-shot again. I hadn't revisited it since it first came out, so I reread it again just now to have it fresh in my mind.

So I don't really think Minoru and Near likely would've met even if Minoru never died, because Minoru asked Ryuk to erase his memories and also made it really hard to trace everything back to him with how he planned the selling of the notebook. He didn't WANT to be tracked down by anybody, nor to remember what he had done, and Near said himself that it would be basically impossible for them to find him now after the transaction had taken place. The only clue L's team really had to go on after the auction finished was that A-Kira was probably one of the many hundreds of thousands of people under 60 years old who had a bank account with Yotsuba.

HOWEVER! I also do like the idea of Minoru and Near meeting each other, especially because Near expressed interest in meeting him due to his obvious intelligence and due to coming up with that kind of a plan with the notebook. And think it might have been fun to see how they got along.

("read more" cut because it's a bit long)

I also liked Minoru as a character quite a bit. He came off pretty chill and patient and peaceful and non-egotistical, but still pretty scheming and clever as a character as well. I also liked how he found a way to try to use it to benefit himself and his own country (I guess - it's up for interpretation, but that much money going to Japan would be "greasing the wheels" of the economy, as they said?). And to me he also seemed to be trying to entertain and placate Ryuk while also getting the notebook away from him and not actually using it himself to kill anybody. After all, Minoru really had no choice in the matter initially when Ryuk selected him for his next notebook owner, so he didn't ask to be put in that position, and he had all the history of what had happened before when Kira had the notebook to draw on. And Near points out that now that the world knows about Kira's power and its whereabouts that it will be a lot harder for it to be used sneakily by anybody, and perhaps that was something that Minoru had been anticipating too (I assume he had thought of many things like this before he chose this plan, seeing as he for some reason spends 2 entire years coming up with it).

Near in this one-shot is a bit of a question mark to me characterization-wise. He doesn't act a ton like Near did in the manga in my eyes, and comes off a bit more cynical and listless and self-centered than I thought he actually was back in the manga. He seems a bit less idealistic and less caring about the others around him to me in this one-shot, too; and I thought that the part where he says that he wants to meet A-Kira because he's smart sounds a lot more like something the original L would say than something Near would say. Much of the stuff that made his personality refreshing and unique to me in comparison to L just wasn't really that present in this one-shot for me. And I'm just not sure if that's because Ohba is intentionally writing him to have been changed by the Kira case and differently characterized now to how he wrote him in the manga, or what? Perhaps he is trying to show Near slowly becoming more like L over the years as he spends more time doing L's job? Or maybe I just interpreted Near's personality in the manga differently to how Ohba was actually conceptualizing him and writing him in the first place.

Anyway, whenever I imagine Near and Minoru meeting and interacting I tend to picture Minoru having a bit of a calming effect on Near for some reason, as Near comes off a bit depressed and cranky and lonely to me in the later one-shots. They're so far apart in age in canon and when Near first learns about A-Kira that I don't ship it, but I can imagine them getting along well as friends if they met (and if someone came up with an AU where they are closer together in age and/or both first met as adults that'd be fine for me shipping-wise as well). Maybe Near would do well to have a friend like Minoru who came off smart and relatable to him in an interesting way, and who also immediately understood that something like having the power of Kira handed to him wasn't automatic good news and didn't want to use it to kill anybody. Minoru could maybe be Near’s chill voice of reason when he gets a little too cynical and stubborn about things and get him out of the house a bit more, introduce him to some of the things the kids are into these days and see what he thinks about them. I feel like Near would maybe do well to not be so caught up in his role as L anymore as well, as it doesn't really seem to be agreeing with him that much later in life. I can picture them doing something fun and low stakes and nerdy together like hanging out at a board game cafe. Or maybe it'd even be nice to see them working together on L stuff, and maybe Near would be a happier person with an actual pal to hang out with.

[felixcloud6288]

Fullmetal Alchemist: Wrath

Over the course of my reread, I've spoken a fair deal about my thoughts on Wrath and I never got all my thoughts out on him.

When I began this series, I didn't think I'd become so invested in him. In fact, I had no opinions on Wrath until I started taking an analytical approach to this series.

My basic thesis is Wrath is nihilistic. He does not believe in ideals, beliefs, gods, emotions, or even his own purpose.

Back when he was a regular human, he was simply Presidential Candidate #12. He and the other candidates were trained in all matters related to physical prowess, military knowledge, etc. all to build the perfect leader.

Perhaps at the time, he thought the President would be whoever was deemed the most exemplar of them all. The crown would go to the hardest worker and the best suited for the role.

But when the next phase of the program began, it wasn't skill or knowledge that made him the chosen candidate; it was luck. He just so happened to be the first candidate to survive being injected with a Stone. If he hadn't, his body would have been thrown away like the 11 candidates before him. And if one of them had become Wrath, he would have lived the rest of his life as a mindless soldier serving the Doctor.

The process of becoming Wrath depleted his Stone to the point there is only a single soul within it. I would argue that soul is #12's original soul. Greed doesn't have any of Lin's memories but Wrath has memories from before he became Wrath. And the body and soul are bound by the spirit. When the link is severed, the body dies. We know the soul can be forcibly extracted and stored as a Stone even after the body is destroyed, but there's no evidence suggesting the body can exist in a living state without the soul.

So Wrath's body still working leads me to believe that his soul still exists. Maybe we could argue that some other soul is using #12's body, but they should ultimately reject each other. Barry's body was rotting because of the animal soul placed into it. Why wouldn't #12's body start to fall apart after decades with some other soul.

When Greed's Stone was put into Lin Yao, Lin accepted Greed and the two ultimately became symbiotic due to their shared avarice and insatiable desires.

What if #12 happened to have a similar relation to whatever essence made up Wrath? What if at the moment Wrath was inserted into him, #12 was filled with so much anger and hatred for what he's gone through that he and Wrath ultimately came to an agreement with each other? #12 got to keep his body and Wrath's powers, but Wrath's essence would influence him for the rest of his life.

Somewhere in his life, he concluded that nothing has any meaning and ideals are pointless. Maybe it's just an aspect of Father's wrath. Maybe he came to that conclusion after spending his life following Father's designs. Wrath gained power, fame, and success and it ultimately means nothing to him because he never earned it. It was all given to him as part of Father's plans. And it only went to him because he was lucky enough to become Wrath.

Wrath does not believe in god. He called god a human invention, a fantasy for the weak-minded, and an idol created by those too weak to take responsibility for their own fates. That last one is a bit hypocritical since Wrath has never taken responsibility for his own fate. He lives his life according to to the will and purpose handed to him, much like how a religious zealot might claim their actions are the will of god.

Father's goal is to seal god within himself, thus freeing himself from god's rule and becoming a perfect being. Father ultimately treats god as the cause to all his problems, meaning he treats god the same way Wrath described.

It would not surprise me if Wrath despises Father and has nothing but contempt for him. Wrath's fate is shackled to Father's purposes. He can never escape them, and he exists only to achieve some goal that he likely doesn't care about. He is not afraid of divine retribution for what they're doing. He only fears the retaliation of humans.

And Wrath is a perfect foil for Greed. Wrath has everything and values nothing. greed has nothing but values everything. Greed abandoned the other Homunculi because he found no satisfaction with them and refused to be bound by Father's will. I truly believe that Wrath feels the same way, but he's ultimately too jaded to even consider the idea of rebellion.

Father melted Greed in molten metal to extract his stone. He gave a toast to his loyal children and to the Promised Day. But that entire ritual has a second purpose. It warns the rest of the Homunculi the consequences of rebellion. If Wrath had any thoughts of rebellion and making a life for himself, Greed's death would have erased those thoughts. He would just be disposed of like the pawn he is.

After Greed's punishment, Wrath walked home with a furious look to his face, only for it to dispel when his wife and son greeted him. He understands he can never escape his fate to serve Father's purpose, so he would take comfort in times where he could just be with his human family. In particular, he enjoyed being with his wife whom he got to choose for himself.

He hates his purpose and feels he cannot escape it. Maybe he enjoyed seeing Roy and his allies disrupt Father's plans because it gave him some sense of comfort. Everything in his life had been planned out, so it was exciting to experience problems.

In particular, he took an interest in Roy Mustang. From the moment he saw Roy kill Lust, he realized Roy had the qualities to be an ideal sacrifice. And Wrath spent much effort to shackle Roy in place and keep him from further interfering with Father's plans. But no matter what he did, Roy refused to submit to their plans. Even to the very end, when Riza Hawkeye was bleeding to death, Roy refused to be Father's puppet.

Despite his words, Wrath smiled at seeing Roy's defiance. Maybe he admired Roy for having the determination to take control and responsibility for his fate. It's something Wrath never had.

In the end, the closest he ever came to taking control of his own life was when he chose to fight Scar to the death rather than pursue Hawkeye's team. He reveled in having a fight where no ideals, beliefs, or ego was involved; but when he lost, he remarked that the heavens had forsaken him. So at the last moment, he still never took responsibility for his fate.

[fallen-gravity]

What inspired you to make Safe Haven? Btw I really love the fanfic not just because I’m Mollie and Ollie fan but it’s also because you have shown how much they have grown in there friendship after everything that has happened to them. Keep up the great work!

And just wondering how would Scratch react when he realizes Ollie was sleeping over in the McGee’s guest room?

aaa, thank you so much for your kind words!!! it really means a lot to me to hear that people love my work 🥺🥺🥺🥺

A lot of the intial inspiration came from a headcanon I've been talking about with friends for months about Ollie sneaking off to the McGee house. Even before he told his parents that he thinks ghosts can be good and compassionate at NecroComicon, he's been struggling knowing that he has such contrasting morals with his parents (and even his own sister before he had a chance to talk to her too) and that really scares him, so I like to believe that sometimes he would sneak out to spend time with Molly and her family because he wants a space where he can autheitcally be himself. There's a queer metaphor in there somewhere about having a closest self and a true self around loved ones you trust the most, and little sprinkled bits and pieces of wherefore art thou Romeo. NecroComicon airing only added fuel to the fire of Ruben and Esther canonically not being accepting of Ollie's differentiating morals, so yeah, of course he's gonna feel extra scared and unsafe, because now they know he's not like them anymore.

Another part of it, the really initimate part of Molly and Ollie comforting each other through gentle touches and whispers, that part comes from personal experience. When I was about 16 or so years old, there was a time where my then-partner and I got talking about life stuff, and not even necessarily about us or our future or anything that was really about our relationship, and we started getting really emotional because yeah, sometimes talking about life is hard. And we were feeling really shy about it, cause we were around other friends too, so the way we went about it was we kind of...squeezed each other in a really tight hug, and we touched foreheads and got all real close and balled up together, and...we cried. We talked about heavy stuff together and wanted to cry together and it felt like a genuinely healing experience. Molly and Ollie are both going through a lot, and, you know, they're both incredibly touchy people in canon, that it just felt to me like that's something they'd benefit from. Have a heavy talk, and then just take a few moments to let the other help ground you. Gently take them by the hand, wind an arm around them, tell them that they're sitting right there and that they don't plan on leaving any time soon. The fact that The Grand Gesture and mollie becoming canon in the very next episode that aired after writing it was insane luck on my end; I genuinely had no idea what the episode was going to be about outside of June and Darryl's plot, so you can only imagine the look on my face rereading Safe Haven after it aired. Holy shit.

As for how Scratch would react knowing Ollie is right there in his house, well...I'm sure Sharon wasn't the only person that Molly woke up when she was running around trying to make sure Ollie was okay, right? 😉 The way I see it, he woke up when she woke up, and he was gonna give both of them an earful about it, but by the time he caught up with them, he'd probably just run into Ollie crying into Molly's shoulder, and even he's not that heartless to kick someone while they're down.

But he is petty enough to wait until morning, ask how Ollie's feeling, and if he responds with oh, thank you for asking, Scratch! I'm feeling a lot better, then he's gonna tear him a new one for waking him up in the middle of the night and worrying Molly sick like that. But of course Ollie's used to it by this point, and knows that probably means he was secretly worried too, so he just responds to all of his griping with a smile.

[pygmi-cygni]

That is excellent advice too, thank you so much! But I was thinking more like this: I am waking up, spending time with a pet, driving home from work/an outing, washing dishes, (scrolling Tumblr 😉), what have you. I want the next thing I do after one or more of those tasks to be sitting down and wrestling with that blank page. Do you have any tricks for making that happen a little more often?

ohhhh so like a motivation thing? ok lemme try again ( i just woke up lmao she's still rebooting)

writing is sometimes intimidating, which can be why a lot of people have a hard time 'getting started.' like in the previous post, it's very altered to the author, so blanket organization tips and motivators might not work.

this is something I do:

before i start a story, i pick a colored notebook and a pen color that match. this is the color of the stationary i use to draft/edit/etc. I like the colors, it's fun and it makes it feel more exciting to plan out the gross stuff. also, if I scribble down notes somewhere random I can remember what story they go to based on the ink color.

I also make a playlist, and I'll take a walk while listening to it to get myself in the mood for writing. maybe certain songs I associate with certain parts, and I'll loop those if I need to figure a scene out.

make a list for everything you want to happen to finish this piece of writing. I mean like

pick title

write draft 1

edit

write draft 2

make a header/banner/cover etc

design fanart

taglist (tumblr specific)

Like I said a couple of posts back (i don't remember which one) productivity is productivity. if you really feel like writing is the last thing you want to do, don't force it out of yourself. you'll grow to resent it. pick something that is productive to the end result of publishing and do that. maybe design a banner/cover/art piece for it. draw your own fanart. it's not cringe. pick a title. draw a map. it'll help you think about your story more deeply without grinding words out of you.

pinterest boards are also fun for me! i like picking the pictures, sometimes I'll see a post and think 'oh that could be a cool setting' or something like that. sometimes I get overwhelmed and end up scrolling for cool jewelry so it's a dangerous choice lmao.

read a book or piece of writing that mimics a style you want to write with. tab dialogue you like and setting, and then while you're writing revisit that to jog your memory. If there was a book you were reading that inspired your current project, reread a couple parts.

writertok compilations are my favorite lmao it's a guilty pleasure. I like hearing about other people writing to make me realize I should get back to it and stop ignoring my 7 wips

xox that's what I got for ya

[kazscrows]

Crooked Kingdom Reread

Part Two: A Killing Wind

Chapter 5: Jesper

Once again he found himself reaching for his revolvers, longing for the cool, familiar feel of their pearl handles beneath his thumbs…

…Kaz said they’d get them back in good time, but he doubted Kaz would be so calm and collected if someone had swiped his cane. You’re the one who put them on the table like a nub, Jesper reminded himself. He’d done it for Inej. And if he was honest, he’d done it for Kaz too, to show he was willing to do what it took to make things right. Not that it seemed to matter much.

Jesper is trying so hard

It hurts so much because everything was an accident

I’m sorry Kaz has the emotional range of a teaspoon when it comes to expressing his feelings and just talking things through

He sometimes wondered what might have happened if he’d never gone out with his new friends that night, if he’d never walked into that gambling parlor and taken that first spin at Makker’s Wheel. It was meant to be harmless fun. And for everyone else, it had been. But Jesper’s life had split like a log into two distinct and uneven pieces: the time before he’d stepped up to that wheel and every day since.

Jesper’s gambling addiction is so interesting to me

It makes me wonder if it’s the gambling itself or just the idea that he can’t know the outcome that draws him in

Like.. is it the uncertainty that gives him the adrenaline rush much like how he enjoys the unknown and thrill of the fight?

He’s such a deep character

Every one of the Crows are really

Also I wonder where those supposed “friends” of his are now

Poor Jes is nervous to face his father

He’d hoped that Kaz would offer to accompany him. But when they’d split up to approach the university, Kaz had spared him only one dark glance. The message had been clear: You dug this grave. Go lie in it.

Ouch

Not even “dig yourself back out” just basically leaving him for dead…

That’s pretty harsh Kaz…

It had been nearly two years since Jesper had set foot on university grounds. He’d never officially withdrawn from school. He hadn’t even really decided not to attend. He’d simply started spending more and more time on East Stave, until he looked up one day and realized the Barrel had become his home.

Ever single one of these children wound up in the Barrel on accident

I guess that’s the point though

No one willingly chooses that place. That life.

All his attention focused on the man standing near the eastern wall, gazing up at the stained-glass windows, a crumpled hat clasped in his hands. With a pang, Jesper realized his father had worn his best suit. He’d combed his Kaelish red hair tidily back from his brow. There was gray in it now that hadn’t been there when Jesper left home.

This just makes my heart ache

Also Mr. Fahey sounds like a sweet man, he’s doing his best

Jesper’s throat felt dry-sand parched. “Da,” he croaked. His father’s head snapped up and Jesper steeled himself for what might come next—whatever insults or outrage his father hurled at him, he deserved. But he wasn’t prepared for the relieved grin that split his father’s craggy features. Someone might as well have put a bullet right in Jesper’s heart.

“Jes!” his father cried. And then Jesper was crossing the courtyard and his father’s arms were tight around him, hugging him so hard Jesper thought he actually felt his ribs bend.

I always think about the parable of the prodigal son here

The first thing Jesper’s father does upon seeing him isn’t to scold him or make him feel ashamed

He embraces him and is overjoyed to just see him once again

I love that parable

Ah right, then they start getting shot at

“Wylan, tell me you’re packing more than pens, ink, and weevil makings.”

“I’ve got two flash bombs and something new I rigged up with a little more, um, wallop.”

“Bombs?” Jesper’s father asked, blinking as if to wake himself from a bad dream.

Jesper shrugged helplessly. “Think of them as science experiments?”

Poor Mr. Fahey has no real idea what‘s truly going on

“Jesper—”

“Da, I swear I’ll explain everything, but right now all you need to know is that we’re in a bad situation, and bad situations happen to be my area of expertise.” And it was true. Jesper could feel himself coming alive, the worry that had been dogging his steps since he’d gotten news of his father’s arrival in Ketterdam falling away. He felt free, dangerous, like lightning rolling over the prairie. “Trust me, Da.”

“All right, boy. All right.”

Jesper really does thrive in a fight

And I love that his dad just trusts him

Okay this fight scene would actually be so cool to see live action

I need that SoC spin-off so we can get here someday!

Jesper reloaded and popped up from behind the fountain, shooting.

“All Saints,” he shouted as pain tore through his shoulder. He really hated being shot. He shrank back behind the stone lip. He flexed his hand, testing the damage to his arm. Just a scratch, but it hurt like hell, and he was bleeding all over his new tweed jacket. “This is why it doesn’t pay to try to look respectable,” he muttered.

I guess Jesper has been shot before. Makes sense but still

They way he’s more upset about his clothes being ruined over the actual idea of being shot though

Also I can hear Kit saying that. His poor jacket

“Help me,” said Jesper. “We need to barricade the entrance.”

The man behind the desk wore gray scholar’s robes. His nostrils were flared so wide in effrontery that Jesper feared being sucked up one of them. “Young man—”

Help I just snorted—

Jesper pointed his gun at the scholar’s chest. “Move.”

“Jesper!” his father said.

“Don’t worry, Da. People point guns at each other all the time in Ketterdam. It’s basically a handshake.”

“Is that true?” his father asked as the scholar grudgingly moved aside and they shoved the heavy desk in front of the door.

“Absolutely,” said Wylan.

“Certainly not,” said the scholar.

Please why is this so funny??

I’m dying

Jesper really just took time to stop and flirt with a girl as they’re being pursued by people who are shooting at them

People are literally trying to kill you! Now is not the time, my guy!!

—these were the moments he lived for. He should be buzzing from the excitement of the fight. The thrill was still there, fizzing through his blood, but beside it was a cold, unfamiliar sensation that felt like it was draining the joy from him. All he could think was, Da could have been hurt. He could have died. Jesper was used to people shooting at him. He would have been a little insulted if they’d stopped shooting at him. This was different. His father hadn’t chosen this fight. His only crime had been putting his faith in his son.

Oh Jesper-

He makes my heart hurt a lot

That’s the problem with Ketterdam, Jesper thought as they stumbled uncertainly through the dark. Trusting the wrong person can get you killed.

Oh my gosh Jesper thinks this and then it immediately goes to Nina for the next chapter

Is this saying something about Matthias trusting Nina??

Or maybe foreshadowing for Matthias trusting that a drüskelle wouldn’t kill an unarmed man…

Or it’s late and I’m just thinking too much

First | Previous | Next

[butterflydm]

WoT reread: pre-Sanderson books

spoilers through knife of dreams

I deliberately took a break in between the Jordan books and the Sanderson ones, mostly so that I won’t be ‘grading on a curve’, basically, and will be able to judge Sanderson’s characterization on its own terms rather than just being relieved that I no longer have to read CoT/KoD Mat & Perrin. I would honestly have preferred Mat standing in a field picking his nose for two books rather than the character assassination that we got in CoT/KoD, so my bar for the male characters was VERY low going into the Sanderson books, back when they first came out.

Anyway, as I enter The Gathering Storm, I just want to note what everyone should be doing next, per their most recent PoVs in the previous main-story book, and also my general feelings on the characters as of where we ended in KoD:

Rand: desperately trying to make a truce with the Seanchan, even if he has to return women to slavery to do it. Other than that, he’s basically been refusing to do anything plot-related for the last two books, mostly just treading water instead (despite there being several plot-related things that he COULD have been doing). I’m frustrated with how Rand’s plotline has ground to a halt so that we can spend way too much time with Perrin and Mat’s pointless sidequests. Theory: Jordan couldn’t figure out how to get Rand to what happens in the ending, so he focused on Mat and Perrin in order to avoid thinking about Rand.

Egwene: she is currently captive in the White Tower and her next plot point was very clearly stated in KoD - she will be serving Elaida at her next dinner that evening. Her current plot is essentially the same as the plot she's had the last six books -- become undisputed Amyrlin Seat of a united White Tower. This is really one of those plotlines that’s good but, wow, really should have taken place over fewer books.

Elayne: she's won over the Houses and now just needs to be officially crowned and then buckle down to the work of getting Andor ready to help during the Last Battle. Proud of her, love her so much. Egwene and Elayne (and the prologues) were basically the only good parts of CoT & KoD for me. Rand & Nynaeve had one or maybe two good scenes each in that entire section.

Mat: in CoT & KoD, he lost almost every good quality that he had EXCEPT for his loyalty to Rand; instead of keeping his promises being about him (secretly) being a man of deep integrity, it has essentially become a weird fey thing where he apparently feels a compulsion to keep his word but puts it off for as long as possible first. He completely threw away all his character growth from the earlier books and considers slavers to be more worthwhile companions than Aes Sedai. Expects that the next time he will see his 'wife' is being faced off against her troops on the battlefield and is somewhat sad about this (because he's talked himself into liking her despite her being a genuinely awful person) but he's prepared to do it anyway. I am DEEPLY disappointed in Mat, for the most part. His characterization basically fell off a cliff in CoT. He does still have enough loyalty to Rand and enough intelligence that he didn't actually betray anything to Tuon during their time together -- he didn't tell her Rand was his friend (Talmanes did, sorta by accident) and he didn't tell her about his medallion (Setalle Anan did, in a very bizarre characterization reversal of her own where she went from vehemently anti-slavery in WH to kissing Tuon’s ass and giving up other people’s secrets to her. I will note that trying to ‘reason’ someone out of bigotry doesn’t require throwing your previous friends under the bus and betraying them! -- post-WH Setalle Anan is kinda Opposite Day to the Setalle Anan that we got to know in ACoS & WH, who thought of Mat as a loveable rapscallion and who hated slavery, as opposed to CoT/KoD Setalle Anan, who automatically sides with Tuon against Mat because they’re both women but is willing to have ~reasonable discussions~ with Tuon about the pros and cons of slavery and is also literally fetching and carrying for a slaver) -- but CoT!Mat is just straight-up an inferior character to pre-CoT!Mat. Jordan just... really trashed Mat in these two books and it feels like most of the reason that he did it was so that Tuon wouldn’t be required to experience any character growth because Mat just rolls over for her instead of challenging her (there is so much rolling over and not challenging Tuon in these two books. And the few people who DO challenge her are all people that she instinctively non-persons anyway, so it has no impact on her) and spends the majority of his page time attempting to appease her. And destroying a main character in order to prop up a minor character is such a poor narrative choice. Just... everything about how Mat was written in CoT & KoD has frustrated me so much. Poor writing choices that turned a favorite character into one of the worst in the series. IMO, the outriggers were the worst idea that Jordan ever had, because it led to him tanking a major plotline and major characters in his main story. Mat transforms from being a “good and great man” (to paraphrase Nestelle from WH) who risks himself to free slaves into being a selfish and weak-willed patsy for his slaver ‘wife’, who looks the other way when she reclaims ownership over all the slaves in her ‘rescue party’. Anyway, his next plan is to go north to Caemlyn to the Tower of Ghenjei to help Thom save Moiraine & then he was going to reunite with Rand, because he has a lot of Last Battle-related help that he can deliver to him (or maybe the other way around). 

Nynaeve: has not had a plot of her own in a while; the last time she had a plot that wasn't basically "help this man over here" was TPoD.

Perrin: finished his own soul (& woman) selling story in KoD; has been reunited with Faile (the only thing he cares about), so should FINALLY be heading back to Rand, one way or the other. I am disappointed in Perrin, but that's nothing new. He did sink to a new low in KoD, now officially being a slaver himself, having sold two hundred-ish women into slavery. So... there’s that.

For secondary/tertiary characters who we know about:

Aviendha: traveling with the Aiel in Arad Doman and 'catching up' on her Wise One training.

Galad: leading seven thousand Whitecloaks, having 'deserted' from the Seanchan forces and planning to work with Rand & the Aes Sedai to fight in the Last Battle.

Ituralde: working with the Dragonsworn to try to rid Tarabon of Seanchan and firm up Arad Doman as a bulwark against the Seanchan invasion.

Pevara & Co: in the Black Tower, having just made a deal with Taim to bond with Asha'man.

Tam: recently found out his son is the Dragon Reborn (not from Perrin)

Gawyn: still taking orders from Elaida, does not yet know Egwene is prisoner in the White Tower.

Lan Mandragoran: riding from the furthest west part of the Borderlands over to the furthest east part of the Borderlands, to fight against the Shadow.

Cadsuane: still hasn’t taught Rand ‘laughter and tears’, which is literally her only goal.

Loial: plans to talk to the Great Stump to try to convince the Ogier not to abandon the world right before the Last Battle.

Forsaken: Moridin has declared that no one is to hurt Rand but definitely please try to kill off Perrin and Mat; at least some of the Forsaken are all "lol nah I'm gonna try to kill Rand anyway".

Tuon the slaver overlord: being an asshole High Blood/Empress and in deep denial that, by her own beliefs, she should turn herself over to become a damane; her main goal is probably forcing Rand to kneel in front of her; general villain-type goals of invasion and enslavement of others, etc. It really is a shame that Jordan decided to yeet any potential for her character into the void. She was intriguing in Winter’s Heart. And then never again, lol.

Bashere: there was an assassination attempt on his wife back in the CoT prologue that made him agree to something that he’d been asked by “the man who spoke to me yesterday” and we haven’t really checked in with him since then.

Olver: in LoC, he was a war orphan who was a believable child who seemed like a genuinely interesting addition to Mat’s story. In ACoS, all he cared about were boobs. In WH, he barely even noticed that the Seanchan had invaded, because he still only cared about boobs. In CoT, he briefly acknowledges that the Seanchan are the bad guys hunting them but does not at all react to them similarly to how he reacted to the Aiel in LoC - he shows no signs of anger over Mat having been injured by the Seanchan invasion, despite anger towards the Aiel due to his parents dying in the Aiel invasion being a big thing for him in LoC. In KoD, he’s buddy-buddy with Head Slaver and once again obsessing over boobs (this time, leering at a slave’s boobs, which. you know. charming). The only book where I’ve been able to stand Olver was LoC tbh. He's been just a weird & exaggerated parody of Mat in every book past that.

Minor general spoilers below for some things I vaguely recall about the last three books (no spoilers about the ending):

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I’ve read the Origins book & glanced over Sanderson’s retrospective on writing the last three books, and he mentioned some specific bits that were already written by Jordan, so I will probably keep that in mind as I read. I’ve only read the Sanderson WoT books once, so I’ll be finding out now if the experience is different this time around. 

I do feel like some of the criticisms that I’ve seen of his writing are already very present in CoT & KoD, though, specifically:

Mat’s character being noticeably more sexist (honestly, all the male characters feel like they’ve gotten more sexist the last few books; Mat is just the most obvious example).

Mat feeling wildly out of character to who he’d previously been.  Wildly out of character. To who he’d been in Winter’s Heart. Which took place one week before Crossroads of Twilight picks his story up again, and suddenly Mat doesn’t give a shit about the Aes Sedai that he risked his own escape to help ONE WEEK AGO. He’s completely forgotten that his little sister (among other women he cares about, like Elayne, who he had an entire book about coming to terms with, and like Egwene and Nynaeve) is a channeler who Tuon would happily debase and destroy until she groveled at Tuon’s feet. Mat’s reactions to almost everything Tuon does are just such character assassination that I can’t even acknowledge CoT/KoD!Mat as the same character as EotW-WH!Mat. His reactions just seem... so bizarrely off from anything he would have done previously. It really does feel like Jordan parachuted in a pod!Mat from a parallel world. I LOVED EotW-WH!Mat. You couldn’t pay me to be in a room with CoT/KoD!Mat.

Nynaeve not having a storyline of her own or doing much of anything unrelated to the men in her life.

Sanderson didn’t fix any of those problems (from what I recall) and it would have been nice if he had, but he didn’t create them either.

Some other things that I personally dislike in the series as of KoD and that I am curious to see how Sanderson handles compared to Jordan:

Slavery being an Acceptable Evil, especially with Mat, in particular as of CoT/KoD, only caring about slavery when it threatens him personally and not giving a shit about other people anymore (and he cared a LOT in Winter’s Heart. The contrast between how deeply he cares about saving the Aes Sedai & Windfinders in WH vs treating the Aes Sedai like unwanted pests in CoT is incredibly jarring). But, in general, it feels like Jordan decided that the main PoV male characters aren’t going to care about slavery if the slaves are primarily women which is... such an ugly look. It feels like the Seanchan storyline went off the rails hard in CoT & KoD, and I don’t personally feel like “but the planned outriggers!!” is a valid excuse for destroying a main storyline and main characters so badly. Having ALL THREE of the main male PoV characters coming to the conclusion that other people being enslaved is the ~price they are willing to pay~ for what needs to be done is...  it’s very much that Lord Farquaad meme, yes? “Some of you may die, but it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.” Mat deciding that he needs to defend and protect the slaver overlord hurts other people, not Mat. Perrin selling two hundred women into slavery is hurting them, not Perrin; Rand sending the damane back into slavery... etc. They are not ‘making sacrifices for the greater good’, they are sacrificing other people. They are saying that these specific people (who are all women) are not worthy of being allowed to have free will and lives of their own. And that author putting that storyline in three different plotlines implies things that wouldn’t be implied if only one of the main guys was doing it. “Women’s freedom is negotiable” is basically the message in Rand, Perrin, and Mat’s storylines in CoT & KoD. “When we say we want to save the world, we don’t mean women.” And I did not get the feeling that was the original intention of the damane/Seanchan storyline! Which is why CoT & KoD rank so incredibly low on my ranking order. Because it feels like Jordan broke the narrative promises that he made about this storyline all the way through Winter’s Heart. I think Jordan exploring this idea (of his characters willing to sacrifice women’s freedom for the sake of saving the rest of the world) could have worked in a critique kind of way if it had only been in ONE of the plotlines while the other two plotlines were about things other than allying with the Seanchan. Mat’s character is the one that gets the most distorted by this plotline, so I would have tossed his out entirely. Perrin’s is mostly in character -- his entire plot here was that he would be willing to do anything for Faile, even vile and evil things -- but I think Jordan actively deciding to have him LIKE Tylee even as her people are carting off her new slaves in the background was a character-breaking choice. Rand’s plotline would genuinely be fine (because he’s the most reluctant of the three PoVs on allying with the slavers)... except that Min and Nynaeve should have mentioned the sul’dam secret. It’s wildly frustrating how useless they are in the Seanchan plotline when they literally know THE key secret about the military and economic might of the empire. Jordan had them suffer convenient amnesia so that he could do his ‘allying with the slavers’ plotline.

The domestic violence that is endemic in the majority of the male-female relationships in the series. In particular, I am curious to see if Sanderson ever has the female characters hauling off and straight-up punching their ‘love interests’ in the ribs the way that Jordan so frequently had them do. This is an issue that really started around A Crown of Swords and has gotten steadily worse (in The Shadow Rising, Faile punching Perrin is called out as a bad thing by Perrin and by the end of the book, neither of them are being violent with the other, but in ACoS and beyond, violence is just treated as the norm in romantic relationships). 

Related but adjacent, I am also curious to see if beating/spanking remains as large a fixture in the series as Jordan had made it in the last few books.

Women being politically/magically diminished in order to be in a relationship with non-political/non-magical men (ex. Morgase and Tallanvor; Siuan and Gareth; technically Juilin and Amathera but that feels like the most understandable of the examples).

Women being stuffed into Fates Worse Than Death while men just get to be killed off (and the Seanchan becoming a dumping ground for “out of control” women that Jordan didn’t want to kill off).

Min being a liability to Rand but the narrative keeps telling us she’s Best Girl, Just Trust Me.

Tuon being a genuinely cruel and malicious person, but Mat keeps telling us she’s Better Than Most Nobles, Just Trust Me.

Okay, I think that’s everything I wanted to note before I started my The Gathering Storm reread.

[zarvasace]

PROGRESS POST

(12/18/23)

If you're interested in what I've done recently, the state of my projects, and what I plan on doing in the new year, read on! :)

By Fandom

Linked Universe Projects

Shatterproof: I have more backstories cooking, and a half-finished fic or two, but that's about it. I plan on updating a story at least once before January

Council (1931 AU): backburner, haven't really had inspiration. Still on my radar though, and it spins through my head on occasion!

Marvelous Misadventures: been plucking away at this! I recently had an epiphany regarding the next part of the plot, so hopefully that gets me more excited to work on it

Considering expanding the coloring pages I made into a whole series, that could be cool

Misc stuff includes a couple half-abandoned oneshots, a few drawing ideas, and a major art project that probably won't happen because I'm trying not to burn myself out 😅

Four Swords Projects

Fairytale AU: recently gained fire for this again. Reread and organized all my existing material, edited the outline, and I desperately want to finish it soon. Hesitantly scheduling for before the new year. Draft currently maybe about 30% of the way, at 8k.

Isekai AU: I don't think I've mentioned this to anyone outside discord, but ta da I'm deep in this. I'm probably 90% done, about 30k. This will be a Christmas fic, I hope!!

Vampire lords AU: rambly vampire plot is going. Somewhat slowly. I've been trying to not overload myself with too much, so this has been demoted slightly. :) Bite fics happen spontaneously, though, and there might be another coming.

Rinthia AU: my original world, the one seen in Nothing New Under the Sun. This is kind of a passing thought, definitely in planning stages, but I would kind of like to expand this—see where the other characters are, give y'all some answers, because the answers are there

Non-fandom

I want to do more traditional art, graphite and watercolors mostly, and that usually means using photos or life instead of fandom stuff. Makes it a bit less exciting, but maybe I can find a way of doing that. I miss my lil oil paint studio area but I can work with what I have

I'm crafting a few Christmas presents instead of buying them because I do not have much money. That is something I need to spend like, this next week doing

Sanderson merch: I have a goal of getting a booth at Dragonsteel next December, and selling some small souvenir stuff. My plans involve making more pins (I ordered a couple already, and they're very nice), drawing some coloring pages, and maybe advertising here a little once I actually have some stuff I'm proud of up. This will ideally take a year to get together, though, so no rush.

By Month

November

I spent most of November working on The Worst Thing About Earth, kind of an impulse fic that spiraled out of control. I think I burned myself out a little on this, so I've been taking it slowly. Trying to, anyway.

December

So far, I've mostly worked on holiday gift exchanges and some backburner stuff. Like I said, I've been taking it kind of gently. I plan on finishing the FS isekai AU this month, and getting most of the way through the fairytale AU. Getting those off my plate will free me up to think about other things, I think. I also plan on maybe one more bite fic and one more LU disability AU thing before the new year.

January On

I'm not sure what the next month will bring! Ideally, I'll be wrapping up the fairytale AU and intermittently posting a few little things. I'm hoping to return to a couple of my older projects soon, mostly Marvelous Misadventures, because I've left that thing unfinished for LONG ENOUGH.

This next year, I want to try to devote more time to doing things for myself that aren't fandom things. I'd like to reread Stormlight Archive before #5 comes out in December, play more video games, and do more painting. I would like to establish a better habit of making and eating food. I want to play board games a little more often.

Still, the muse can be fickle, and as you probably know by now, I am very good at chasing my inspiration!!

[cloudlessnightskyline]

pt 1

Okay i'm rereading the webtoon so. thoughts. (if you notice any spelling mistakes please ignore them im on an energy drink and time is weird)

"Several years in the future" (abt the apocalypse). the usage of "several years" makes me think its like. 4-5 years AT MOST. because i dont think we call anything more than 5 several?

"players". sjs says "about 2 years from now" except we have a 1 year timeskip. so that means in sometime around 12 months players are going to start getting chosen?? which is shorter than i thought tbh

"That's how Dawon Guild became one of the top guilds" okay. listen. we know this probably doesn't happen in a day or two, right? it should have taken at least months. and since sjs says he put time into learning all abt weapons, we can further speculate abt the exact time everything started going to shit.

so there was enough time since the guildleader was chosen for him to both raise their guild to the top and let sjs invest in weapon learning? that takes at least sometime from a couple months to maybe a year or two. (there were still people knowledgeable about weapons alive)

so this would put the apocalypse. i am thinking roughly around 2-4 years from current time? the players need time to get acquainted with their skills and have enough time to grow to face the apocalypse.

okay time to theorize more. went back to reread and sjs says the difference in weapon creation is the amount of mana.

Sjs also says he's creating the weapons with little mana? and he's already a D-ranker. what happens when a rank A or B creator gets that knowledge? they can put more mana into the weapons, so they could potentially be stronger than sjs' ones?

yth also makes a comment about the sword. "higher than b rank". why is this a surprise? how do creators work? when a rank B creator standard-generates a sword, is it rank B? Or is it the same as a rank C or D creator's sword??? god i love worldbuilding

Are creators a rarity? surely his old guildmaster could have found another creator? potentially C class, since his whole guild is C class except sjs, so why does he settle on D class sjs? i dont think its abt money since he could probably hire a class C creator and still spend less money than on all the daggers he'll need to keep buying

speaking of which

"do you know how much money we spend on weapons?"

weapons are important in this world!! weapons are very very important so its obvious they'll be expensive. this leads to my question: why are they expensive?

I think it's probably due to a lack of supply.

good weapons are hard to come by and even cheap weapons are expensive. there's so many different classes in rpgs, there's bound to be one that has less people in than others. there are so many we can see in this.

i think, at this point in time, there just hasn't been a way for creators to make indefinite weapons, which means people had to rely on blacksmiths, but there's only so many blacksmiths in the world.

lack of supply + high demand = high prices

obviously this gets solved in the future (either due to players getting weapons from the system or creators just figuring it out due to gaining knowledge)

but this makes me wonder!! why only in the future? surely, somewhere out there, there's gonna be at least one creator who got invested into weapon making, right? this is just swirling around in my brain i had more things to say but it vanished so

yth says "most creators", but he only lists sjs as the exception. "it was as if the limitations didn't apply to him at all". so pretty much this means no creator ever decided they wanted to know more about weapons and i think this is sad.

anyways!!!!

...this is getting too long im making a separate post abt the rest of my thoughts

next part ->

[kinfanfiction]

Charlie Eppes x Fem!Reader - Chapter 4 - Some Indescribable Feeling

A/n: This fucking GIF oh my GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD!!

Little Women is my favorite book, and now it’s the reader’s too, you're welcome.

Yes, this is way shorter than I wanted it to be. No, I don’t think there’s anything more to be added to it.

     Waking up knowing it was Friday morning was a beautiful feeling. However, it was disorienting to not wake up in your own bed. You took a second to process your surroundings, and then you got up and went to the bathroom to get ready for the day. Your eyes felt heavy at first, but the further you went along through your routine, the more awake you felt. You got dressed in formal work attire, as usual. You enjoyed dressing up nicely for work, it made you feel more professional. You grabbed Little Women from your bag, your favorite book. You’d reread the book multiple times since you were twelve, and now you read parts of it for comfort.

     You didn’t see anyone in the kitchen when you went downstairs, so you welcomed yourself to it’s contents and made yourself breakfast and lunch. You packed your lunch for later and ate your breakfast at the table as you began reading at the beginning of the March’s Christmas morning. Alan walked in with a newspaper in his hand. “Good morning, Y/n. You sleep well?” 

     You smiled politely. “I did. The guest bed is incredibly comfortable.” You spoke before taking another bite of your breakfast.

     “I’m glad.” He smiled and then paused, trying to think of what else to say. Thankfully, you came up with something.

     “What are your plans for today?” You questioned in between bites.

     “I was thinking of going to the golf course today, to get my mind off things and see some old friends.. What about you?”

     “I’ve got a couple classes expecting my presence today, and after that I’ll see about spending time with Charlie.” Alan grinned at the thought of you two growing closer again.

     “It’s sweet, the friendship you have with my boy.” He expressed softly. “You’ve always been good to him. He’s really needed that. Someone who accepts all versions of who he is.” He looked like he wanted to say more, but simply ended the conversation with, “Have a good morning, Y/n.” Before he walked off. You sat in your chair and though for a moment about what he said. Little did he know you needed a friend like Charlie just as much as he needed you, if not more. 

     You finished your breakfast, grabbed everything you’d need for the day, and walked out to your car. You stuck the key in the ignition and pulled out of the driveway and towards the CalSci campus. When you got there, you continued working on grading your student’s work. As you read through each paper, you noticed one from Daisy Lewis. You quickly graded it, giving her an A, and then writing, ‘Come talk to me after class.’ In the top right corner of the page. You hated writing notes like those, because you knew how terrifying receiving them was, but it had to be done because she’d crossed a line. 

     The class went along smoothly as usual but at some point you had to give out graded papers, and when Daisy received hers, she looked momentarily relieved, until she read the note you left. Bowie, who was sitting next to her, looked at the note and their eyes widened. You continued on with the lecture, and then at the end of class, after everyone else left, Daisy did her little walk of shame over to your desk. To your surprise, Bowie followed suit. “I’m so sorry, Professor L/n, this was all my idea, please don’t be upset with Daisy, she only got roped in because of me.” Bowie ran to her defense.

     You chuckled at how dramatic they were, “I’m not upset with anyone, I just want it to be known that Professor Eppes and I would prefer it if our personal lives were not interfered with by our students.”

     Bowie and Daisy nodded profusely, “Of course, and we’re so sorry. It won’t happen again.” Bowie agreed. 

     “And I’d also like to know why you did it. Do either of us grade too harshly? Was that the problem? Because if you ever have a problem with how we grade, you are always welcome to simply talk to us. You don’t have to go to these lengths for an A.”

     “That’s not why we did it..” Daisy began to explain.

     “We did it because, well, everyone is curious to know why you and Charlie are so close, and we thought it was because maybe you...” Bowie felt so embarrassed they couldn’t finish their sentence, but you knew what they were getting at.

      “..You wondered if we had feelings for each other? So you pulled.. that?” You couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, dear. Well, first of all, that’s none of your business, and secondly, yes, Charlie and I are very close, and I care about him immensely, but as a friend. Now, I don’t want anything like this to happen again, so if you could tell anyone else involved in the speculation about me and Charlie’s relationship, I would greatly appreciate it.” You paused briefly, and then your tone shifted from relatively lighthearted to more stern. “I’m easy on you today, but if you do something like this again there will be serious consequences.” Bowie and Daisy nodded. “Now that’s settled, you both may go.” You said, shooing them both away. They left the room quickly. After that interaction was over, you quickly got to work on grading for your next class of the day. 

     After the school day was over, you went to check on Charlie, only to see he wasn’t in his classroom. You asked the professor of the neighboring classroom if they’d seen him, and they said he hadn’t come in all day, and had a substitute fill in for him. You thought that was strange, he hardly ever missed school. You drove back to the Eppes’ house, and Alan was quietly watching television in the living room, but Charlie was no where to be seen. You tried to distract yourself from worry by diving into your work at the dining room table, but you were so concerned that you couldn’t focus. You put your work away and tried to read more from Little Women, but you weren’t processing any of the words. 

     Finally, Don and Charlie burst through the front door. “Charlie helped us solve the case!” He announced to you and Alan, which made you turn to look at Don, and then quickly to Charlie. You were relieved they were alright, and that they'd caught their guy, but Charlie didn’t seem too thrilled about the success. He gave a false grin, which you noticed right away. 

     “That’s great, Charlie!” Their father exclaimed.

      “Yep, and now I’m absolutely wiped. So, goodnight everyone!” He spoke quickly, before going up to his room. You furrowed your eyebrows and went up after him. He didn’t get a chance to sit down on his bed before you were already in the door. 

     “What happened?” You questioned without hesitation. 

     “What happened? Nothing happened, we got the guy, everything’s fine now.” He insisted in a very unconvincing manner. 

     “Mhm.. right, because your whole demeanor just screams, ‘Everything’s alright.’” You retorted sarcastically.

     He huffed, a little annoyed that you were so good at reading him. “What do you want me to say?” He demanded in a slightly irritated tone. 

     “The truth.”

     “Fine. The truth is, even though we got the guy, and we saved a woman from being murdered, and possibly many more women from the same fate, I still feel incredibly guilty for not working fast enough to be able to save the women he did kill.” 

     Your expression softened. “Charlie.. don’t do that to yourself. You did absolutely everything you could, and so did every agent in the Los Angeles FBI department. You think they can afford to carry the guilt of everyone they didn’t save with them? It’d tear them apart if they did.” You grabbed both of his arms and made him look into your eyes. “Let me say this again, and really take these words in. You did everything you could, and because of you, no one else can be hurt by this guy. Do you understand how incredible that is?” He didn’t look so sure right away, but the more he thought about what you’d said, the more he relaxed. Finally, he let out a deep sigh and nodded. 

     “Thank you, I needed that.” He said with a soft, affectionate smile.

     “Of course.” You smiled back, until a new question occurred to you. “Does this mean you’re going to continue helping the FBI with their cases?” 

     He thought for a moment, “Only if Don wants me to.” He responded decidedly. You frowned a little at the idea.

     “You could really be putting yourself in danger if you do.” You reminded him.

     “I’ll be alright.” He attempted to assure you, “Don wouldn’t let me get anywhere near the dangerous parts of each case. He won’t knowingly let me go anywhere near something or someone that could hurt me.”

     You clicked your tongue and hummed, “Mhm, knowingly indeed.”

     “Oh, don’t be so worried. Don will make sure I’m safe if I continue working on cases with him.”

     “You know I have trouble not being worried about you. For a brilliant mathematician, you sure can be an idiot sometimes.” You spoke in a playful tone to let him know you were joking.

     He scoffed and feigned being offended, “So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh? Please, you’re only saying that because you care too much about me for your own good.” He teased as he ruffled your hair. 

     You chuckled, “Maybe that’s true..” You wanted to joke around some more, but you found that was all you had left to say.

     The two of you stood quietly for a second, looking into each other’s eyes and not knowing where the conversation was to go after that, and suddenly, you noticed the atmosphere around the two of you change. You didn’t know how, why, or in what way, but somehow it made you feel almost nauseous. You quickly broke eye contact and looked at the floor. “Well, before you dive into any more cases, or work, you should take a break.” You suggested. He smiled and nodded. 

     “I think I will.” He agreed. “Would you like to watch another movie?” 

     “Sounds perfect.”

     The two of you sat down on the guest bed, propped up against some pillows, and you turned on Little Women. “Oh, why would you turn on this again? You cry every single time you watch this movie without fail.”

     “Yes I do, but it’s worth it for all the comforting moments.” You insisted. 

     “Mhm, I’ll get the tissues.” He stood up and grabbed a nearby box, which made you laugh. 

[runawaymun]

Wait so what’s the writing pregame?? (I see post game but maybe I missed it?)

Ok so my writing pregame for like, a serious writing session involves a couple of things

reading. LOTS of reading. Can't write out of an empty tank. So I generally try to get some reading done before I plan to do serious writing. If I'm going in and really attacking a scene on a specific day, then I will pull out books I have already read before that I like that deal with a similar scene/topic/mood. So, for instance -- if I'm trying to get a certain fight scene right, I might reference a couple passages from a Brandon Sanderson or GRRM novel, or if I'm really trying to match Tolkien's style/prose, then I will pick up the Hobbit or LOTR, etc. etc.! Sometimes I need Beowulf, sometimes I need Lovecraft, sometimes I need Ender's Game or Hitchhiker's or Rumi's poetry 🤷

make a cup of coffee. BIG mug. Gotta have lots.

cozy blankie. Non distracting sensory clothing.

Get my fidget toys for thinking

Pick out the playlist. For all my original work, I have specific playlists that match worldbuilding and moods. For fics I generally have character playlists or playlists for that specific fic. I don't always go for these though. It just depends on what I need. During certain sections of Partake I had Elrond's theme from ROP playing on an endless loop in the background lol. It's just whatever music I need that's going to get me in the headspace.

Then we reread whatever we wrote prior. We do not edit. Must. Resist.

Then we write. I try not to spend too much time staring off into space daydreaming when I'm doing Serious Writing Sessions because while daydreaming is a necessary part of my writing process, it can turn into procrastinating really fast. Usually I trick my ADHD brain by giving myself a wordcount goal of 350. It's low enough that it's like...shit, I can do that. And quality literally does not matter. That's the other rule. Even if those 350 words are just outlining or me yelling into a void about what happens next. Usually with those barriers removed it's enough to just turn on the tap, and then with the right circumstances (routine, reading, music, etc. etc.) I can get into Flow :)

I've had the same routine for years now, and so there comes a point when these things become a habit just like a bedtime routine does and now it just flips a switch in my brain. It's more about telling my brain that it's go-time than anything else :) but also it helps me mitigate burnout and block since I'm not writing from an empty tank & I've removed most of my usual obstacles for myself.