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lord-aldhelm · 8 months ago

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WIP Wednesday

No one tagged me this time and I almost forgot about this!! Another week, another tag game! Please share your last sentence; or, if you don’t have one, share a plot bunny or idea!

So for this WIP Wednesday, I am going to do something a little different! I am going to post the entire most recent chapter of my WIP. I really love how this turned out, and wanted to share the whole thing. It kind of works well as its own little standalone ficlet.

From my latest Aldflaed WIP (that does not have a title yet)

Background Context: This takes place in early Season 2. King Ceolwulf II has just passed away, and Lord Aethelred was installed as the new Lord of Mercia. He is taking charge of moving the household from the old capital of Tameworthig (Tamworth) to Aegelesburg (Aylesbury). Aldhelm has just been promoted to captain of the guard, and is having a hard time gaining the respect of his new subordinates...

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Chapter after the cut below:

Aldhelm left the peace and solitude of the forest, feeling energized and enlightened. But it was not to last. Before he even entered the castle gate, he heard shouting and the sounds of things breaking. He drew his sword and ran into the courtyard, expecting the worst, but to his dismay and somewhat relief found it was just the guards being rowdy. The previous captain had already been dismissed, given an early retirement and a gift of land in the western part of Mercia. In that short time, the guards were taking advantage of being leaderless, or so they thought. Many held horns of ale as they stood in the street, yelling and laughing, and some of them were even causing destruction to property. Others sparred recklessly in the sides of the courtyard, and some others were harassing women who were trying to go about their business. Apparently, they were bored and restless, having nothing to do as the castle was being packed up.

He had never known the guards to be so unruly before, but they seemed to be taking advantage of the change in leadership to relieve some stress. And also, quite clearly, to test him. Although he had already been acknowledged as their captain, and had made a point to introduce himself to them, they did not take him seriously. He needed to make a forceful impression on them so they knew he meant business. He was already used to the role of advisor and king’s right-hand man, but he had to adjust to his new role as captain of the guard.

He was a decent warrior, having been highly trained in skills of sword and shield, axe and spear. He mastered every skill given to him with ease, and was a fast learner; however, he detested fighting. He would much rather fight his battles with a quill than a sword. But Aldhelm had a special talent for battle tactics, and it made sense to have a strategist like him in the lead of the army. So, he accepted it without complaint. And now he needed to bring them in line, and he knew he only had the one chance or else they would never respect him as their captain. He sighed, realizing that his leisurely strolls in the woods were now a thing of the past, no matter where they lived. His life was going to get busier and more complicated than he anticipated.

He sheathed his sword and casually strode in through the front gate. The guards saw him enter but paid him no mind, and continued their raucous merrymaking. They were not at all threatened by the tall, lithe man with no real battle experience. He remained calm and complacent, which was difficult considering the circumstances. Were the guards so undisciplined that they could not go a day without their captain bearing down on them? That would need to change. He continued to saunter seemingly unbothered through the middle of the courtyard, glancing over the scene before him to pick out the worst offender. Without breaking his stride, he unsheathed his sword again, and smacked the loudest man with the broad side of his sword.

It might as well have been a honeybee stinging a boar; the man was much larger and heavier than him by nearly double, and built like a brown bear with thick corded muscles and a broad barrel chest. He had clearly seen many battles, and was covered in scars. The man turned around to confront his attacker, but when he saw Aldhelm, he gave pause. Aldhelm could see some semblance of thought forming behind the man’s dull grey eyes, and let him think about his next action before he continued. The battle-worn guard, rather than getting angry, started to laugh. The rest of the guard looked on, not knowing what to do, but eventually they joined in and laughed as well. Aldhelm smirked and tilted his head slightly, knowing he was the butt of the joke but let them have their little moment of jest.

“I seem to have interrupted quite a party here,” Aldhelm said, standing firm and confident in the face of real danger. As he spoke, the laughter stopped. “But it is time now for you to clean up this mess you have made.” He gestured broadly with the point of his sword to the broken bits of wood and other debris that littered the walkway in the courtyard. The burly man just laughed in his face, completely unbothered by the weaker man making unreasonable demands of him, and turned to walk away and continue his wanton destruction.

Aldhelm was undeterred. “Since you are all clearly bored, and in need of something to do, why don’t we have a training session.” His soft steady voice barely carried across the courtyard, but the big man heard him.

His head turned to once again face Aldhelm. “You? Train me?” His eyes darted up and down across Aldhelm. “What a joke.”

Aldhelm rested his blade against his shoulder in a cocksure manner. “You are right. It would not be a fair fight. I will ask one of the other guards to spar with me instead. Someone who will actually be a challenge for me.”

“Little twig, I don’t know how you ended up being the captain, but you had best go home now, unless you want me to snap you in half!” the burly man announced. When Aldhelm made no indication that he would leave, he continued. “Look, we all know that I should be the captain. I was second in command, and was promised a promotion. Now, why don’t you do us all a favor, and go back inside the castle, and tell the king that a mistake was made, and that Wulfstan is the new captain of the guard.”

A chilling smile spread across Aldhelm’s face as he unpinned his brooch. He removed his cloak and gently set it on a stone bench nearby, and picked up one of the shields that had been callously dropped on the ground. “You can certainly have the role of captain, if you defeat me in single combat.”

“Little lordling, I will not be held responsible for your death,” Wulfstan replied gruffly. “You want the title, fine, you can have it, in name only. But you step aside and let me lead the men in real battle.”

The smile vanished from Aldhelm’s face, and his fierce green eyes were set in a cold, hard, unwavering glare at Wulfstan. “Draw your sword and face me. I will not ask again.”

Wulfstan decided to humor him. He nonchalantly picked up his shield, and pulled his short-sword from the scabbard. He had no time to react before Aldhelm struck without warning, raining powerful blows onto his shield. Wulfstan was shocked at how strong he was; he was taken off balance and pushed backwards before he was able to stabilize and defend himself properly. He managed to get an offensive swing at Aldhelm but made no contact; Aldhelm had anticipated the move and leapt backwards, leaving Wulfstan to swing at empty air. Aldhelm charged forward again, and made contact with Wulfstan’s armor, leaving deep cuts in his leather bracer and severing a few links of chainmail on his left arm. Wulfstan realized that Aldhelm meant business, and began to take the fight seriously. If the scrawny man died, so be it. He had an entire army as witness of his attack, and would be justified.

Wulfstan charged at Aldhelm, sword held high, and swung hard at his head. But as before, he never made contact; Aldhelm was far too fast for him, and had already leaned backwards, avoiding the blow. In response, Aldhelm circled around to his right side and struck again, and managed to get a slice into his right shoulder pad. Wulfstan swung his sword out at him, but again, Aldhelm had already leapt back, avoiding the sword. By this point, the rest of the guard had already formed a square around the dueling pair, and were watching intently. They could not believe that a skinny weakling was able to fight the man they thought of as their best warrior. They watched with baited breath, hoping that Wulfstan would put an end to the silly battle, and retain his honor. But as the duel continued, they realized that their leader was actually being bested by him, to their disbelief.

Aldhelm seemed to anticipate the advances of Wulfstan with eerie accuracy, and always managed to avoid his blows. It was like he could see into the future. But what they didn’t know is that Aldhelm had spent many hours watching the guards spar in the courtyard and training grounds, and knew all of Wulfstan’s typical moves. What they also did not know was that Aldhelm was formally trained by Ceadda, the previous captain. He had also received combat training during his time in Rome, and was deceptively strong for his stature. People tended to underestimate Aldhelm, which he used to his advantage, and this time was no different.

Wulfstan was starting to escalate, while Aldhelm stayed calm and composed. In his fury, Wulfstan charged at Aldhelm and their blades met with a loud metallic clang. The bigger man pressed down on Aldhelm, and his blade snaked along Aldhelm’s down to the hilt. At that moment, Aldhelm raised his shield and hit Wulfstan hard with the edge of it, straight into his temple. The burly man stumbled backward, dropping his own shield in the process. Blood ran down his face and into his eye, temporarily blinding him on one side. While he was stunned, Aldhelm rammed hard into him, knocking him down onto the ground. As Wulfstan’s blurred vision came into focus, he saw Aldhelm standing over him, his sword pointed at his chest.

“Do you yield?” Aldhelm said softly. The burly man raised his hands, and nodded. Aldhelm withdrew his sword, and as he did, Wulfstan staggered to his feet. His angry glare met Aldhelm’s cool one. He could not believe this willowy man defeated him at swordfighting. The rest of the guard started shouting epithets at Aldhelm, briefly drawing his attention to them. He half expected one of the other guards to charge at him in defense of their fallen leader. However, it was Wulfstan who made the next move. He drew his seax, and while Aldhelm was distracted, charged at him full force. Aldhelm saw the movement in his peripheral field of vision, and reacted quickly. At the last second Aldhelm raised his shield, blocking the attack. The seax was plunged deep into the shield, splitting it, and almost making contact with his face. He rotated his arm so that the blade was deflected away from his face, but in the process, it had grazed him just to the side of his right eye.

Aldhelm put his full force into his shield, twisting it and forcing it away from himself and into Wulfstan. The seax, still embedded in the broken shield, was wrenched from Wulfstan’s hand and tossed onto the ground. Wulfstan grabbed the shield fragment from the ground, and struggled to pry the seax loose, holding the shield with his right hand and using his left to free the blade. Before Wulfstan could use it, Aldhelm had raised his sword and struck the unarmed man with a devastating blow that penetrated a weak point in his armor just below the elbow of his left arm. A major artery had been severed, and blood gushed out of the wound. Wulfstan dropped the seax and fell to his knees, his right hand squeezing his left elbow to stop the bleeding. Aldhelm swung his sword swiftly around to point directly at his throat, and once again, calmly asked, “Do you yield?” Wulfstan’s eyes were wide with pain and fear, and he relented this time.

“Yes, Lord,” he said weakly, shaking uncontrollably. He was starting to lose a lot of blood, and would surely die. Aldhelm sheathed his sword and grabbed his cloak, using it to place a tourniquet on Wulfstan’s injured arm.

He stood and glanced at one of the horrified guards still standing in a square. “You,” he said, making eye contact with one, “bring me something to cauterize this wound.” When he didn’t move, Aldhelm emphasized, “Now!” and the young guard ran off to the nearby blacksmith, and returned with a metal bar, still red hot at the tip. Aldhelm removed the cloak and pressed the glowing end of the bar into the wound. The big man screamed in pain, and the acrid smell of burning flesh and smoke filled the air. But, the bleeding was stopped. Aldhelm rewrapped his elbow with a clean section of the cloak. He ordered another guard to notify the priests, who would be needed to tend to his wounds and nurse him back to health after his severe injury.

Once Wulfstan was carried away by the priests to recover, Aldhelm addressed the rest of the guard. “Does anyone else wish to challenge me?” No one said a single word. They were shocked and impressed by not only how deceptively strong a fighter he was, but by the mercy he showed Wulfstan. Wulfstan had committed treason, humiliated his master, and attempted to murder the new captain. He should have been executed on the spot for his crimes, or allowed to bleed to death where he lay. But Aldhelm showed him compassion, and tended to his wounds instead, saving his life. They all looked at their new captain with awe and reverence, and knew that this man was someone they would follow to the ends of the earth.

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No Pressure Tags: @whitedarkmoonflower @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @gemini-mama @thenameswinter99 @alexagirlie @synintheraven @garunsdottir @thelettersfromnoone @aegonx @itbmojojoejo and whoever else wants to do it!

#wip wednesday #fanfic #aldhelm #tlk fanfic #the last kingdom fanfic

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silly-inky · 4 months ago

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Hiya! Hello! It's me, ya boi

Updates people Updates!

So I'm making this sort of list of things I am in the process of making or should start working on soon (or things I have yet to post about yet) with little updates about them

Dimentio drawing- this is going alright so far but is a somewhat complicated piece where I will have 2 different end results, one with his mask and one without. I'm on the shaping phase of my lineart which is usually fun for me but I decided to take a small break from it as I was put off by how much time I spent on the sketch (about 30 hours) this does not mean the piece is complicated, just that it took a while to get everything right. I will get back to drawing this soon. This is a digital drawing

You were someone to me a lifetime ago- so for those who don't know I have a fic I'm working on. I released chapter 4 last month and hope to start working on the 5th chapter this month. After the last chapter was posted I started working on the layout of the story as up until this point I was just winging it and going with the flow with not much of a plan, but I know I should have some sort of base to follow in order to keep my writing consistent and have proper flow, because of this I have planned several chapters in advance now, and those who enjoy it will be happy to know that this fic will most likely have more than 30 chapters although I cannot say what number there will be specifically. I want to try and get more chapters out in a short amount of time as I don't want to drag this out but I cannot promise anything

My writing and ideas- so as said in a previous post, I have quite a few ideas that I have had but didn't share in here either because I was too lazy, forgot, or was self conscious. I will probably start to work on a few I already have written out and start to post them, I will also start to post more headcanon posts. Because of all these ideas I have had I actually have some other things that i will be able to share, which lead into..

Mario AU- an AU ( alternate universe) of which I made sort of out of the blue by accident which I have slowly been building on and I even have some doodles to go along with the basic lore of it. What is this AU you ask? Well you'll just have to wait and see, I will say that there is definitely some role swap in which makes things very interesting

Shipping- so for some who may have guessed, I am a multi-shipper, which isn't anything new but I preface this because of me delving into these ships a bit more. For instance me drawing Dimentio has sparked a lot of Dimentio and Dimigi (Dimentio x Luigi) ideas to form and be made, I shipped it before hand but I was and still am focused on booigi. So you may very well see some Dimigi soon as well as your scheduled booigi

Please do keep in mind like I have stated many times before, I struggle with motivation a lot and it can be very difficult for me to get things done, I don't know when any of this will be finished and forcing myself to get it all finished now will only burn me out more. I'm sorry I haven't been posting a lot of content recently as I've been struggling with a few things recently, I'll try and get content out for you as soon as I can and I hope it will make up for it. I was hoping that at least by posting this you will be aware of my plans and what is currently in the works so you guys are up to date

Also I wanted to just say that I appreciate the asks so much, it really means a lot and I love answering them! I do want to add if you are one of the 2 maybe 3 people who submitted an ask a little while ago, I just want to say that I haven't forgotten about them, I wish to draw proper responses for them I just haven't gotten around to it hey, I hope to answer them soon for you though

Have some old pics of my son (ignore how pale I am)

#inky rambles

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rollercoasterwords · 1 year ago

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hi i would like to rant to u if thats okay because i saw ur rant u wrote like 6 days ago and it just kinda made me think so i hope u don't mind.

i love writing. i always have and when im writing i always get excited, except then i started posting on the internet. at first i got some attention which actually pushed me to write more and then i wrote this fanfic that blew up and got a lot of attention which dont get me wrong was GREAT like im proud of it, but it also changed my perception of writing

all of a sudden this silly little thing i wrote was now something people were talking about with their friends and reccomending and that was great but it made me feel different about my own work. it changed how i percieved writing, and more often than not i catch myself writing for them, not for me.

recently i started writing this fic that made me giggle and kick my feet while writing it. i wrote it SO fast because i could not get enough of it, and then i started publishing and it didn't get much attention. i've had other fics that didnt get attention before and it was like meh, but after the work i wrote that blew up, it felt like my fics NEEDED to become popular to be good, which is like,,, shit

and whenever i posted a chapter of my new fic or talked about it, i'd get comments on my fic asking about my popular one, if i'll make a second one ect.

it made me lose interest in my story because i'd gotton hooked on others approval and i didn't want to write something they weren't interested in, because then they wouldn't read it and it would all be for nothing.

i forgot the original reason i started writing. for me. and its been so hard to try and just get back into that headspace of writing for me and not others because of the attention i'd gotton from my previous stories.like how i felt now that i had a fair few followers i owed them stories THEY wanted to read.

i'm not sure how to get back into writing for myself, because i don't want to delete my works or stop posting, because i do enjoy it when people say nice things and help my motivation, but at the same time it also makes me feel like i have to write what they want and not what i want, because if i write it and they dont like it ive failed

anyway thats my little rant, i dont know if u even understand what im talking about but it was nice to get off my chest

thank you <3

no i feel u i can def relate 2 a lot of that experience! it can be a weird experience 2 have a fic go viral & it is definitely not always entirely positive. honestly think the only reason i've escaped a lot of the harassment + hate i've seen directed towards other people who have had fics go viral is that my fic that went viral was a rewrite of someone else's story, so most of the discourse remains centered around the original story + writer which honestly. feels like i managed 2 dodge a bullet lmao

but i can def relate 2 the sudden pressure of abruptly finding urself in a situation where tons of people are reading something u were just casually writing 4 fun, and suddenly feeling like u need 2 meet certain demands or live up 2 expectations. honestly feeling this pressure to keep up w those expectations led to some burnout 4 me last fall/winter, which is why i stopped posting for a few months. and like obviously i can't say what would be most helpful 4 u--that's something u kinda have 2 figure out 4 urself--but i do know that for myself + for some other writer friends who i've talked to, taking a break from posting can be really helpful in like...reframing ur mindset. i think getting some distance from the constant expectations + demands + feedback can help sort of clear the air and strips away both that pressure + that attention + sort of makes it easier 2 focus on writing just to write for urself. 4 me it helped me figure out that while i do love sharing my writing + getting nice comments + messages + talking 2 people abt it etc, that's just icing on the cake, and writing still brings me a lot of joy even without any attention. and once i was able to like...center that attitude + ground my writing in personal enjoyment rather than the online attention economy, it made me feel steadier abt coming back + posting again, and also helped get rid of some of the anxiety of meeting people's expectations, bc i realized that at the end of the day i genuinely don't really care if someone dislikes my story so much that they need to stop reading it; in fact, i think it's better for everyone involved if someone who feels like they're not getting what they want from my story goes and looks for what they want somewhere else! it's not a failure on my part to sufficiently like...entertain an audience or provide a product, because that's not what i'm trying to do in the first place, y'know? and i think that shift in mindset helped a lot, and continues to help when i start 2 feel that pressure again from posting my writing online. it's counterintuitive at first bc i think we're all sort of conditioned to think there's no point to making art unless you're making it for an audience, but once u realize that The Audience is not the be all end all of creating art, i think it makes the process of creation a lot more freeing + fun.

anyway hope u are able 2 navigate the weirdness that can come with sharing ur writing online + find a way 2 write that brings u the most joy!!

#ask

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asterlizard · 2 years ago

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2022

This year kinda breezed by, but I'm glad to say that this December was better than last December (looking back at previous years, autumn seems to be a rough period for me for some reason) I ended the year feeling excited and full of art ideas that I can't wait to share with y'all in the new year!

Anyway, accomplishments and updates:

KalChi: The next chapter is coming along, and after dealing with writer's block in autumn, I just finished my latest draft, and will hopefully have it published early in the new year (and hopefully I can finish more chapters sooner instead of releasing one a year)

Job hunt: No luck this year, and some people I know also find it odd that I don't have a job by now despite my efforts, so hopefully I can get that sorted in the new year. If a lot of time has passed, I may return to school to get a Masters degree, but that's kinda my last resort at this point. In the meantime, I'm managing through zine work and dogsitting.

Speaking of zine work, I contributed to 4 of them this year! (simultaneously too, which is my limit!) -Serenity: A BNHA Self-Care Zine -Together In Unity: A Hetalia North American Bros Zine -IidaTenBros zine -First Steps Haikyuu zine

I also think I’m getting a better handle on drawing dynamic and fluid poses, so my next goal will be improving backgrounds

I’ve had quite a few art posts that got pretty popular, but my silly crow doodles was definitely the most popular at 4K+ notes (also I’m enjoying reading people’s replies to my art posts)

I started keeping a health journal

And I’m trying to fight boredom in the meantime

And the resolutions:

Language learning: I was getting tired of not being fluent in a second language despite my enthusiasm for foreign languages my entire life, and I think I finally found a routine that works. So far I’m using it to improve my Japanese, but I want to try and apply it to the other languages I’m learning too

Now that I’m fully vaccinated, I’m starting to feel more lenient in going outside and visiting places more (still avoiding crowded spots though)

More image descriptions: the year kinda ran away from me and honestly I forgot to do this, but I did get one finished! (I will just continue to bug myself about it until it's done) Although now that alt text exists, I think I’ll be using that from now on.

More cleanup: I’ve saved a lot of links and resources over the years due to my curiosity and I never really looked at them until recently. So I gotta be more ruthless this year to not add to the pile of things to do or look at later

Relaxed schedule: Try to not give myself too much to work on at once if I can help it. I suffered a bit of burnout earlier in the year, likely as a result of wanting to do too much in a small amount of time.

And of course keeping up socializing, which I feel I've been slacking on this year (I need to talk to people!)

I've also been slacking on watching anime/reading manga until autumn, and I want to continue with it in the new year (send me your recommendations)

Also I haven't done this in a while, but I wanted to see what good things have happened this year, since my positive outlook had taken a bit of a beating this year: [Link 1] [Link 2]

I’m excited for 2023, hopefully it will be a good year for you all too! 💕

#my posts

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a-bucket-full-of-feels · 3 months ago

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Extended commentary on my SayoRin AU fic

Because I wanted to refrain from rambling too much in the ao3 author's notes, I've consolidated some extended thoughts/fun facts about Morning Star in the Night Sky in this Tumblr post.

Inspiration for the fic

After watching It's MyGo!!!!!, I started revisiting the original Bandori franchise and was drawn to SayoRin again. As mentioned in another post, I have a soft spot for this particular ship among other Bandori ships, and I was compelled to write a new fic about them.

So also recently I wrote a KumiRei post-canon fic at the end of Hibike! Euphonium S3, and one of the small details I included in my post-canon worldbuilding was that adult Reina casually dated some asshole guys while in America and vented to Kumiko every time she broke up with them, and one of them was a jazz pianist. When I was finished with the main fic, I wrote a short fic about her relationship with that jazz pianist on a whim, but I decided not to publish it online because it's not really that great and the KumiRei content in that fic isn't much (it was mostly a self-indulgent Reina character study if anything). But I decided to adapt that opening scene in my fic as the scene where Sayo meets Rinko for the first time in my AU, and I basically took the story from there.

For some fics, most of the plotline and even specific conversations form in my head almost as soon as the idea comes to me. For this fic, this was the exact opposite - I started with almost nothing except a simple premise, and developed the plot outline bit by bit as I wrote and thought about the fic. I honestly did enjoy the ideation process, it was a fun way to occupy my time while going on a run or during pockets of free time, though getting to writing and editing can be painful when I'm not in a flow state LOL.

Chapter 3

1. I forgot to mention this in the notes, but the quote "Practise like you're on stage, and when you’re on stage treat it like it's practice" is actually one of Sayo's in-game voicelines during lives when you use her in your team, if I remember correctly (I haven't played the game in ages). I'm not sure what's the official English translation for that line as I only played the JP version of Girls Band Party, but I tried my best to make the translation sound less awkward, I swear it sounds a lot better in the original Japanese.

Chapter 6

1. Before the universities were introduced into the Bandori canon, I used to have this headcanon that Sayo would choose accountancy as her university major after reading one of the earliest event stories where she literally used a ruler to measure the thickness of the dough while baking cookies with Lisa. That obsession and attention to detail is such an accountant-like personality trait, speaking as an accountant/financial analyst myself. So I was kinda disappointed when the writers decided to make her a law major instead 😂 We need more accountant representation in media LOL

2. Also on the last part of the chapter, I have no clue how job/client scheduling in a law firm works haha. I kinda assumed that it's similar to my experience in an accounting services firm where you get assigned to different clients based on the headcount/resource requirements and timeline of the job.

Chapter 7

1. Nagano is indeed about a 3 hour drive away from Tokyo, and also known for its mountains! The setting was loosely inspired by this car camping Youtuber, Tabi-ie, who lives in Nagano and frequently camps overnight in the mountains. His videos have a really relaxing and peaceful vibe, and it's nice to put on in the background if you want to unwind, so I highly recommend checking it out!

2. I also did some research on constellations, and Andromeda and the Andromeda galaxy are usually visible only during Autumn!

Afterthoughts

I've already aired my thoughts about SayoRin in a previous post so I shan't repeat myself here. But I'm grateful for everyone who has read and followed the story since the beginning - it truly makes the sleep deprivation from writing this entire fic worth it for me haha

#abfof writes

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veebs-hates-video-games · 1 year ago

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I think maybe I'm going to try to figure out how to do a post about both The House in Fata Morgana and Chaos;Head Noah simultaneously, because I just finished both recently and they're both horror VNs, but one of them succeeds at what it's trying to do a lot better than the other.

Spoilers: The House in Fata Morgana is consistently great, while Chaos;Head Noah is frequently pretty good, never amazing, and too often a bit of a disaster.

I think I'm going to start in kind of a weird place because it's what made me start comparing the two in the first place: the amount of time I had to spend skipping over dialogue I'd already seen. Well, that and they both have main characters who spend most/all of their time stuck in their house as they gradually deteriorate over time, which like they just like me fr.

With The House in Fata Morgana I started it about a year ago, took a break for like ten months when I stopped being able to read pretty much anything, and then finally went back to it and finished it last month-ish. I was maybe a third of the way through when I stalled on it, and by the time I came back I remember enough of the story to jump right back in but couldn't remember the structure of the VN or what any of my saves were for. Probably some of them were at the very sparse decision points, but I didn't want to load every single one of them again and try to figure it out.

I think it was probably after getting the very first ending that I tried to go back and start over to see if there was any new dialogue added or new decision points or ones I hadn't previously checked before. It seems like the skip button skips really fast, but oh no it does not. It was like half an hour of waiting to get to the first decision point (not counting the one at the very beginning), but I guess I made the same choice again and there was nothing new.

I kept skipping, and another half an hour went by before I made it back to where I'd stopped the original time almost a year earlier. Then I went back again and loaded the save from that previous decision, chose the other option, got like 500 words of new dialogue, still wasn't sure if that would affect anything later on, and got to skip through another entire half hour to get back to where I was and discover it does not have any effect.

Finally after 90 minutes of fast forwarding I was able to get on with the story and my life and the rest of it was great, but that was really not an awesome experience and I nearly gave up on it entirely. If I weren't bad at video games and had realized that it's almost totally linear and the decisions don't affect anything down the line that would've all been easily avoidable, and that's probably how it would've gone if I hadn't forgotten so much about how the game worked during that time. I'll keep that in mind next time I decide to have ADHD and various other health problems that prevent me from sticking with something until I'm done with it.

Chaos;Head Noah on the other hand requires that you spend at least as long as that, probably significantly longer, fast forwarding through stuff you've already seen, because it's part of the incredibly poorly thought out structure of the VN itself and not just a consequence of being a dumbass. I had been spoiled by mostly only playing stuff from the past five years or so recently and forgot how much it blows goats in some older VNs getting all the right flags set for certain events or routes. It would've taken even longer if I hadn't given up like three chapters into my second playthrough and just used a guide to get through everything as fast as possible, and I still had to waste at least a few hours just on the skip button.

This is quite frankly terrible. I get what they were going for with the gimmick and how stuff was laid out, but the different endings don't actually branch out until the end of chapter seven (out of ten) on average, and the stuff before that is 95% the same every time through. You also just have to kind of magically intuit several three way choices and correctly answer five yes/no questions to get onto each of the different routes (and for one of them way, way more than that), which you can sort of figure out some of it but a lot of it is just guessing and hoping for the best. This is in fact bullshit and does not respect my time, and in this case is a deliberate design decision and not just me being stupid like with the other one.

This one thing that I've already gone on for far too long about kind of sums up my experience with both of them. Most problems I had with The House (I don't know why I started shortening it to that, but I blame talking about it with @dragonsbutalsorabbits) were my fault or could've been avoided, while most problems I had with Chaos;Head were on purpose because someone (incorrectly) thought they were a good idea.

They both are full of characters who are completely a mess because of the things they've been through in their lives, often but not always deliberately inflicted on them by someone else for their own benefit. The character arcs in The House are much, much better fleshed out though, and anyone who recovers or is redeemed (or gets worse for that matter) gets a lot more development, and the end results feel a lot more earned.

Chaos;Head does that to some degree with some characters, but I wasn't entirely convinced by all of them. I actually am totally down with the main character being kind of a shitty person and the biggest loser in the world (and generally a parody of stereotypical imageboard otakus from the 00s) and don't need my protagonists to be good people or anything, but I feel like they didn't put that to as good use as I would've liked, and I was very not sold on stuff like the "secretly he was a Mary Sue all along" ending.

I feel they could've used it to actually say something a bit more beyond "this guy is a shitty person at least partly as a reaction to the shitty circumstances he was put in outside his control" (totally reasonable) and "maybe girls should be nice to incels because that would fix them (and also they might secretly be superheroes)" (uhh try again chief). It came close a few times, but they never really quite went anywhere else with it.

The House is in some ways the way more fantastical one of the two, but I found it a lot easier to suspend my disbelief for it. It doesn't pretend anything works like the real world does, but it has its own weird but consistent internal logic, and I never really felt myself questioning it. It serves the story, and the story is compelling enough to just go along with it.

Meanwhile Chaos;Head tries to be heavily grounded in the real world, with plenty of psychology and physics and other jargon thrown in to try to tie it in with real world concepts. Unfortunately the writer(s?) have next to zero understanding of how any of that stuff works, so it gets pretty silly pretty frequently. I'm not even going to get into it because I'd be here all day, but even as someone who dropped out of high school twice and only finished like a semester and half of university before dropping out of that too, I still know infinitely more about pretty much every single thing like that they tried to drag into their story and would exhaust the entire world's supply of Cinema Sins dings if I tried to point them all out. The short version is if you know even the absolute bare minimum about psychology or physics or anything like that you're going to have to pretend you don't and just roll with it.

I feel like I've been saying a lot of nice things about one of these and not very many about the other. Let's completely not even things out by saying that I think The House would've been better if it'd ended like ten minutes sooner at the fakeout credits and left some stuff implied at the end instead of actually showing any of it. I was still overall very happy with how things came together in the end, but I would've been even more happier if they'd had a tiny bit more restraint.

And, uh...what can I say nice about Chaos;Head? The first and last/true endings were kinda lame in my opinion (pretty much anything involving the main villains in any of the routes kept making me go "oh no has this secretly been stupid all along?"), but there were some genuinely interesting moments in some of the individual character endings, and I did actually like a decent amount of stuff in the main common route at times too. They did make a pretty interesting world, and some of the characters can be pretty interesting at times too, even if the overall package left something to be desired.

In the end I think The House in Fata Morgana might be the best/my favorite pure VN I've played/read in the past year (although if we count hybrid stuff I think I'd still put 13 Sentinels ahead of it), and Chaos;Head Noah is probably the worst that I enjoyed the least, even if it had its moments and was still ok enough that I finished all the routes. I look forward to one of these days going back to do the side stories for The House and moving on to the next game in the Science Adventure series, Steins;Gate, which I already know I like the characters and story of because the anime adaptation was great when I watched it like a decade ago. I might need a break to do other stuff for a while though, because this last one kind of burned me out.

#the house in fata morgana #chaos;head noah

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mrsstruggle · 3 years ago

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The Lost Child - Chapter 28 // Teen Wolf x Marvel AU

Summary: Y/N Stark was taken from her family when she was three years old. It's fifteen years later and her family believes she is dead. Then how is she living in Beacon Hills?

Warnings: Language, Mentions of Torture/Death/Blood/Injury, Medical Inaccuracies, Possible Grammar Mistakes (please let me know if there is anything else)

Pairings: Derek Hale x Reader, Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes, Bruce Banner x Natasha Romanoff, Vision x Wanda Maximoff, & More To Come

Previous Pairings: Tony Stark x Pepper Potts, Scott McCall x Allison Argent

Words: 2.1k (it's a bit shorter than the others but the following chapters should make up for it)

Note: I am posting every 4 days! (occasionally five if I'm working a lot)

Additional Note: While this is a Teen Wolf x Marvel AU, not everything is true to the shows/movies/comics. I had to change things for the story. This also loosely follows Teen Wolf Season 4.

One Last Note: Y/N was adopted by Tony Stark and Pepper Potts. I did this so more people can see themselves in this story.

***I do not own Teen Wolf or Marvel or any related characters. This is a work of fanfiction and is meant for entertainment only.***

Masterlist

The Lost Child Masterlist

Requests

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

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"Get down!" Scott yells, using his body to shield Kira's body from another incoming shot. An arrow grazes past Stiles and digs deep into the wooden door frame next to him.

The shot seems to shake Y/N out of her haze, and she realizes what is happening, "Someone go take down whoever the fuck is shooting at us!" She rips Derek's shirt in half to fully assess the arrow sticking out of his stomach and the wound it has caused. He's bleeding but the arrow seems to be preventing him from bleeding out. What she's most concerned about is the fact that his blood is a deep black color, and the poison is too close to his heart.

Steve and Bucky take off into the forest to search for whoever was shooting at them. They don't understand why someone would be shooting at them. They just took down several members of Hydra. Who's left? In the little time Y/N has been back and even sometime before, they completely forgot about the Deadpool. They were too busy focusing on getting her back that they forgot all about it.

"Scott, give me your shirt!" Y/N demands.

Scott quickly pulls his shirt over his head and hands it to Y/N, "I hope you know that's my favorite shirt."

"I'll buy you a new one," Y/N mumbles, using the shirt to try to stop some of the bleeding. She's trying to remember everything she learned in school and training, but nothing has prepared her for this. She's been shot with an arrow before and recently she was stabbed with an arrow, but this has never happened before. The arrow but be soaked in poison for it to affect him this much and this quickly. She slowly turns his body to see if there is an exit wound to find there isn't one. "We need to get him into a car as gently as possible and get him to the animal clinic now. There's no exit wound which means if we move him too much it could cause more damage."

"I can lay down the back seats of my car so we can lay him down in the back," Tony states, rushing over to his large SUV.

"I bet if we find a piece large enough, we could use a piece of wood as like a backboard." Stiles looks around at some of the burnt house around him for something they could use for Derek.

Thor grabs ahold of some of the broken floor and rips it out. "Here," he holds the large piece of wood out to Stiles.

Stiles blinks a few times in shock before taking it, "Thanks." He rushes over to Y/N and Derek and sets the broken piece of wood next to them. "What do we do now?"

"Scott, call Deaton and tell him what's going on and that we're on our way. Next, call your mom and tell her what happened and tell her to bring as many supplies as possible. I need four people to help roll him onto the board and then carry him to the car." Y/N hurriedly calls out orders. She moves a little to the side as Bruce, Sam, Stiles, and Peter come to help her. She makes sure to maintain her pressure on the wound as they gently roll him onto the makeshift backboard.

"Lift on three," Sam nods at the others, "One, two, three."

They gently lift Derek up and slowly start to move to the awaiting SUV. They make sure not to make any sudden movements, so they don't damage Derek any further. They notice Steve and Bucky running towards them to help get Derek inside the back of the car.

"Follow me! We'll lead the way!" Stiles yells out as he rushes to his jeep after they slide Derek in.

Peter climbs in the back and crouches down next to Y/N, Steve, and Bucky. They feel the car lurch forward as Tony starts to drive off after Bruce gets into the passenger seat. "Did you get whoever shot him?" Peter asks Steve and Bucky.

"They must have run off before we could to them because we couldn't find them, but we found where they were and this," Steve holds up a piece of paper with part of the Deadpool on it for the others to see.

"They're a hunter," Y/N mumbles, glancing up from Derek for less than half a second to see what Steve is holding up, "He pushed me out of the way. They were aiming for me."

"How do you know they are a hunter? What's the list and why are you on it?" Steve questions.

"That's a supernatural Deadpool and I'm on it because I'm part werewolf and also probably because of whatever other stuff Hydra did to me." Y/N mumbles loud enough for them to hear her. She could care less about having a conversation right now or having to explain anything because her focus is only on Derek.

"Your friends earlier said you're the password for the third key."

Y/N hums in acknowledgment.

"They also said you're worth fifty million but the number next to your name on here is just a hundred."

"It's actually a hundred million." Y/N states.

"Your name is also Y/N Stark on here..." Steve knows the answer to his unasked question. He knows that this must be the reason she told them she remembers them. That's probably why Scott and Stiles and the red-headed girl ran up the stairs towards her. They found out and they showed her and that's why she decided to come clean.

Y/N once again hums in acknowledgment. She doesn't want to have the conversation she thinks he's trying to have, and she never does. She doesn't have to explain to them why she decided to lie or why she decided to come clean when she did.

"Is he going to be okay?" Peter breaks the awkward tension in the car.

"If the poison doesn't reach his heart he should be." Y/N answers. She continues to stare at Derek before she realizes it doesn't look like he's breathing. She quickly bends down to see if she can see his chest moving or if she can hear him breathing. He's breathing but just barely. "Can you hurry up, please?! He doesn't have much time left!"

"I'm going as fast as I can!" Tony yells back at her.

They sit in silence for the rest of the ride to the animal clinic. Y/N was focused on Derek and Steve, Bucky, and Peter were focused on Y/N. This was the first time they were alone with her without her Beacon Hills friends, excluding Derek. What do you say in this moment?

"We're here," Tony parks the car in front of the clinic before scrambling out to help get Derek out of the back.

The trunk opens to Stiles, Scott, and Tony standing and waiting to help. They slide Derek out of the car and rush into the animal clinic where Deaton and Melissa are waiting for them.

"You're lucky my shift just ended when you called," Melissa comments as they set Derek on the exam table.

Deaton turns to Scott, Stiles, Steve, Bucky, Tony, and Peter, "You can wait out in the front. We don't need to trip over everyone as we try to remove the arrow." He watches as they send worried looks toward Y/N before moving out of the room. Deaton turns toward Y/N, "You need to leave too."

She doesn't glance up at him, "I'm not going anywhere."

"Y/N, we both know you shouldn't work on someone when you're emotionally involved." Melissa quietly states.

"I'm not moving."

"Y/N..." Melissa gives her a look that lets her know that there is no way they are going to let her stay. She knows she's going to have to go because arguing wastes time that Derek doesn't have.

Y/N huffs in frustration before storming out of the room. She walks into the front of the clinic to find Stiles and Peter sitting alone in the waiting room chairs. "Where are the others?"

"Tony, Steve, and Buck went back to go get the others," Peter replies.

"Scott left to go grab another shirt." Stiles answers.

Y/N sighs and sits down in the empty chair between her two brothers. That's such a weird thing to say. She's always had one brother and now she has another one? He's even older than her while Stiles is younger.

"He got shot for me. The arrow was clearly intended for me, and he pushed me out of the way." Y/N mumbles as she stares at the wall in front of her.

"This wasn't the first time he's taken a shot for you, and I doubt it will be the last," Stiles remarks.

"This isn't the first time?" Peter questions.

Y/N chuckles a bit, "We had a friend who was being manipulated by her grandfather and she went a bit hunter crazy. She tried to shoot me with an arrow, but Derek took a shot to the arm instead."

"What does she do now?"

"She's dead so she's not doing much these days."

There's an awkward silence as Peter doesn't know what to say. He's starting to question everything he's ever said to her in the past few days. The girl sitting next to him is his sister and he's not sure what to say to her. He built up this massive reunion in his head for so long and it's going nothing like how he thought it would.

"Do you think he's going to be okay?" Y/N quietly questions.

"This is Sourwolf we're talking about. Of course, he's going to be okay." Stiles slightly nudges Y/N to try to get her to crack a smile.

"Are you constantly dealing with things like this?" Peter asks, thinking about his time in Beacon Hills. "I've been here for about a week and too many people have ended up dead or almost dead."

This doesn't seem like a safe place for his sister to be living. Death and pain seem to follow her here and he doesn't like it. She should be safe and having fun, not constantly washing blood off her hands and people always after her.

"It's not always like this but you seemed to have caught us at a bad time." Y/N states.

Peter waits a few seconds before asking the question that's been on his mind for a while, "Why did you lie? Back at the warehouse when you told us you didn't know anything. Why did you lie?"

Y/N huffs a little, "I didn't lie. I just didn't tell the full truth."

"Why not?"

"I'm not ready to flip my life upside down and I knew you wouldn't understand, and I didn't trust you to respect whatever boundaries I put up. I'm saying you but I'm talking about your family as a whole." Y/N tells him the truth.

"Why did you think that?" Peter is a little hurt by her words, but he just wants to understand where she is coming from.

"I went missing from the Stark family when I was three. You and the others will always only see me as Y/N Stark. I'm also Y/N Stilinski and I have been basically my whole life. I was just kidnapped and tortured by Hydra. I just want to be curled up in bed with Derek rewatching some show we've seen every episode of a million times. I want to stay in that bed for a week straight and completely block out the world, but I can't do that because this is the first time you and the others have seen me in years, and you probably want me near you and to answer all of your questions and I don't want that. I just want one more week of being Y/N Stilinski before I have to face reality and start making hard choices." Y/N rants a little as she tries to explain her feelings to Peter.

"What choices do you think you're going to have to make?"

"I have two families who live on opposite sides of the US. One family hasn't seen me since I was three and thought I was dead, while the other one has been in my life for so long and means a lot to me. Even if it has nothing to do with location, there will always be hard choices I have to make."

Peter goes to say something but is interrupted by Melissa, "Y/N..."

Y/N quickly stands up, "How is he?"

"You should probably sit down."

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@vicmc624 @freyathehuntress @fheresm @stefans-wife @taketimeandappreciate @youralphawolf72 @ornella0910 @shedsblood @ts1mp0ne @beautifulgrungekid @danielle-leah1997 @itmejado @ivettt @james-bucky-barnes-bitch @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @darkenwolfie @lokiandbuckywife @xx-narcissa @elite4cekalyma @thecrazytealady @misshale21 @cevans-winchester @fayhay14 @wtfcas @spencerreidsbookclub @hinata7346 @randomhoex @mirakeul @n1ght5h4d3-24 @belovacc @speedy-object-dream @pepelachanel @dark-night-sky-99 @xoxoloverb @ilearnedthatfromethepizzaman @kingshitonly @isnt-itstrange @twsssmlmaa @navs-bhat @saahmi @distantsighs @jayxxace @a--1--1--3 @mrspetxrs @llamaproblem @emily-roberts @me-unintentionally @inyourmomsworld @depressedsleepysloth @allthingsavenger-y @missnyxsblog @zealouspostwitch

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westanallthegays · 2 years ago

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Writing 101 with your favorite queer (EDITED)

Writing is h a r d .

If you think writing is easy, then I'm going to ask you if you've ever WRITTEN A STORY BEFORE because clearly, you're oblivious af.

Writing isn't just w r i t i n g a s t o r y, it's late nights trying to figure out how the fuck to write this moment, it's sleep deprivation to puzzle this character over, it's scribbling ideas down, it's questioning whether your writing is GOOD or not and whether anyone would actually want to read it, it's staring at your google doc or word doc and thinking, "Is this worth it? Maybe I should just quit ahead of time."

It's so many things, but it's not fucking EASY.

Which is why I'm writing this post for y'all. Let's be clear, I don't know everything about writing. I'm in progress, still trying to figure shit out, but I thought I might share what I've learned with you through a very, very painful process.

So ✨here we go✨

One of the things about writing is that everyone has different methods. Here's mine. Use it or not. It's up to you.

I know a lot of people who don't plan their writing out are gonna be screaming at me, but I've found out that having at least a basic plan, if not the simplest plan EVER formed by just a few bullet points really helps.

I'll give you an example (which is miraculous themed because I'm pretty sure everyone at least KNOWS what miraculous is)

Marinette goes to school

Alya gushes to her about this "cool new girl" that has arrived

Marinette reaches school and discovers the new girl is Lila Rossi

shenanigans ensue. Adrien is the only one who isn't clueless. Lie la is a bitch, as usual (what is new?)

Okay, this example was pretty crappy, but you get the idea. It doesn't even have to be an exact copy of what's gonna happen in your story, just the general idea and a few more plot points. Doing this when I'm bored, whether in my sketchbook or on a google doc, really helps. For one, I can just write down a bunch of shitty ideas and later go through them and decide which ones are the least crappy to put in my fanfic.

I'm a planning person, but I don't go super crazy when planning out a chapter. I've heard of some people creating the most intricate plans EVER for their story, and well, sorry, but that just DOESN'T work for me. This method is a lot more simpler, and it's not totally crazy.

(hopefully)

Also, if you're writing a story based on a tv show or book series(*cough percy jackson *cough) Then I find it INCREDIBLY helpful to write down a list of all of the minor characters i want to include in my story, because let's be real, I'm pretty sure I'd forget after like a day.

And I've read too many stories with only the main characters and there being like one mention of a minor character. (*cough GROVER *cough)

So spare your innocent readers (not really) and use this method.

Welp, that's it! I'm sorry this ran on for so long guys, I had a lot to say and wanted to elaborate on it enough so that it made sense. If you actually read through this shit pile of a post, then TYSM IT REALLY MEANS A LOT.

Stay safe, don't fall into a deep, dark hole of depression that you can't get out of, and I'll see ya later~

EDIT:

Hi guys! It's been a few months since I stepped into the world of tumblr and wrote this post. After that i kinda forgot about tumblr with the existential crisis that is school and basic stress, so ....sorry bout that.

Thank you to the two people who liked this post, it means a lot <3

As usual, your girl is here to give some more tips that i learned over those few months i was incognito.

2. Brain dump, second draft, third draft, fourth draft...

I dont know if yall have heard of the brain dump in writing. I recently found about it when despertely researching ways to improve my crappy writing. Basically, a brain dump is when you take all of your ideas and write them down on paper or a google doc or whatever you use. I thought it was a pretty good idea, but i kind of already told you guys this with my previous tip above.

SO I REMODELED IT YOU'RE WELCOME

MY version is that you do a brain dump but in the form of a really messy, chaotic first draft. Write whatever you want using the ideas you have, and you dont even have to put proper dialouge. I find that i obsesse way too much over dialogue, so with my brain dump, i just leave blank spaces where the dialogue should be and put that in the second draft, which is a much more organized version of the brain dump.

THAT WAY, you can have all of your ideas down and begin to edit them into a slightly better piece of artistic creativity. I haven't tried this out myself, so im not sure how reliable it is. if you want to try this out, drop a comment telling me how it went.

Im pretty sure that's it. There isn't much esle to say, and im sure yall are familar with the "first draft, second draft" concept thingie so i dont have to explain that bit.

Again, sorry about my long absence. I would promise to do this more often, but im pretty sure i wont be able to keep that promise, so . . .

anyways, have a great day and ill see you soon (hopefully!)

#creative writing #writing in general #writing is haaaaaaaaard #your resident queer is dropping facts here listen up #planning is okay sometimes #percy jackson #miraculous ladybug #writing 101 class #i should become a teacher yES IM THAT GOOD SHUT UP

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honoredbastard · 3 years ago

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I COME BACK WITH THOUGHTS/THEORIES ON ITADORI AND HIS RELATIONS- I THINK.

anyways, so i'll just point this out: i'm not good at speaking my thoughts in an organized manner. i absolutely suck at it, i speak on how my brain brings up the thoughts so i might ramble, get over my head in a thought, etc. i can't control it so i apologize in advance for the jumpiness of the texts. i will spell a lot of things wrong and not everything will be correct, as i read translations and on a manga site. don't worry it's not illegal, i believe.

MANGA SPOILERS AHEAD.

i apologize for my absence! last week or two weeks ago the tower to my computer completely broke and will not turn on. i tried to repair it and follow my fathers instructions but nothing worked. even cleaned off the fan and went through countless nights readjusting things. it's not my cords either so to help me out my father is working extra shifts to get me a new pc. so in the meantime i'll do small posts like these but not full writing/head canons until i have a computer tower lol. a family member was kind enough to allow me to have their phone while we work throughout this issue.

now onto the actual topic:

kenjaku and itadori's relationship. ( family wise ).

for context in the most recent chapter, 160 "colony" kamo shows up in sasaki's home and talks to her about the culling game and a barrier. but that's not the point, the point is as he's guiding her to the barrier inside her "dream" at the end he says "oh right. i almost forgot to tell you. thank you for getting along with my son." and then she is awakened inside the barrier, in her pajamas beside iguchi. when sasaki and iguchi look at the barrier and gather themselves they bring up kamo.

sasaki asked iguchi if he mentioned his son and he says no. this leaves sasaki in a state of confusion when itadori flashes in her mind. she says his name aloud like she finally connected the dots. now. why am i bringing up this whole kenjaku thanking sasaki for being his "son"'s friend. it throws me off because why didn't he thank iguchi?

did he not think iguchi meant their friendship? because sasaki was the one uninjured and still counted itadori as a friend? does iguchi not consider itadori as a friend anymore?

because we haven't seen these two at all since the incident. that raised many questions in me. as well "how can itadori be related to kamo?" and itadori is related to choso.

because kamo's technique is explained ( vaguely. we are aware he can create barriers, take over bodies, and has incredible cursed tools. chapter 134. this is also where choso makes his connection ( i believe. ) to itadori yuji as his brother. but because we saw this with todo many thought itadori just had another unconsious technique that allows the person who is hit create false memories and believe of a completely made up relationship with itadori without his knowledge. but alas, i was wrong. ) and we're given more hints shown than told ( imo ) i tried my best to make sense out of the situation and what he said. i think my conclusions are pretty solid, so continuing on.

we're given very little history on itadori, his past, and family. at the start of the manga we know that itadori's only family he knows is his grandfather and that he is ill in the hospital. at the very very beginning we learn that itadori is your average cute, fluffy, laid back but strong and goofy protagonist. in smaller words: itadori is kirby but even cuter and dumber.

my first impressions of him is a pineapple. if you're confused to this saying: it's calling a person prickly on the outside but sweet on the inside. and this is true, itadori's grandfather seems prickly and cold on the outside but he genuinely cares for itadori.

he raised itadori for all we know and did that with his all in assumption. but this ends up backfiring onto itadori, because he cares so much for his grandson - he ends up leaving a " curse " on yuji.

help people. save them.

itadori takes this to heart as his grandfathers speech is his last one. when he looks over to his grandfather the man is dead and now yuji is left alone. then the following events occur.

at this point in time i assumed itadori was an orphan ( he technically is if we're connecting the dots. his parents has not been shown, he doesn't speak of them, they aren't in the picture. we can conclude either they disowned itadori or died before he could make complete memories of them. )

but when we are shown in chapter 143 itadori's parents we see this "woman" jin ( yuji's father ) and his grandfather talking about has the same scar pattern. this scar pattern is either stitching ( assuming that is how kamo keeps the top of the opened skull from coming off. this is also how kamo revealed his cursed technique / body of sorts ( the brain, assuming that is kenjaku in his cursed technique and not the body / puppet he is controlling " getou suguru " ) to gojou. )

this is the only way i find kamo being able to assign itadori as his son. why is that you might be asking this dumbass here.

we do not have the full story, exact date, location, and full context of the memory/dream itadori is having. this cannot be fake either because kamo would than have no reason to call itadori his son. or is there? anyways.

take a leap of faith with me. imagine that before itadori is born ( he seems no more than a few weeks or days old in this memory. hence why i am thinking my conclusion is pretty solid in theory. but yknow gege, there might be something different. ) anywhooo.

TW. D3ATH/IMPLYING ANTI LIFE ATTEMPT

kamo had to have taken over yuji's mothers body after an accident OR after she gave birth to yuji. his grandfather is interrupted by her before he can finish his sentence but it seems to be leading to the conclusion that either kaori ( yuji's mother ) died while giving birth to yuji or kaori could not conceive and tried to take her own life or cause an accident that would take her life. ( i read a fan translation for this part but im pretty sure i also read the official translation today too and it added up to the same. )

i believe in the first idea, but since kamo's cursed technique wasn't explained in detail i don't know the conditions of his body technique. does the original host of the body have to be dead? can he regenerate body limbs ( i highly doubt. getou lost an arm during his fight with yuta. overconfident dick. reminding me of an ex ANTWAYS. i forgive him for being overconfident smooch. he learned. OFF TOPIC but continuing on i promise.

this is being continued from the cut off point. i'm so upset so it'll just be summarized. i can't believe this shit lol i took three hours just to finish it for it to literally cut off the bottom half.

continuing on in a sadge mood. kamo must not have the complete ability to take over a body. after all getou took his only arm he had as he was dying and choked his own body to his full ability. getou was willing to die ( possibly, you never know he could be alive if he killed his own body. moving on. ) just to have the chance to save his friend from being swallowed by a damn box.

so there has to be a chance that kamo cannot fully take over the previous persons complete consious and memory of their body. if getou still had his other arm after losing the fight to yuta, he could've choked kamo with both arms. in theory kamo wouldn't be able to control the right arm and die to the previous host choking him to death.

so why wouldn't the other hosts do it? after all, kamo did say it was his first time experiencing such a thing. assuming kamo has lived throughout many bodies in his 150+ lifespan none of the previous hosts could take control of their body.

i believe getou was completely influenced by gojou and his six eyes. there is no way gojou would even try to speak out to his friend unless he had an inkling or saw getou still in there. helpless and without the ability to save himself from the cage he's in.

being used and puppeteered in his own body by an external force. laughing in the world he could not. putting getou into a constant misery and defeat that he couldn't escape his hell. the one he tried so hard to fight and get out of. even if it was the wrong path.

gojou was the last person to witness getou dying. he had to watch getou bleed out after their conversation because he couldn't bring himself to kill his friend. the one he spent his whole jujutsu student life with. so for gojou to say such a thing to getou despite all that he did had to break getou out of his misery and give him that small sliver of hope that he could do something. of course he failed, but i doubt that's going to be the end of that.

the only way i see kamo being related to yuji is if he took over kaori's body before the pregnancy. assuming that when kamo takes over a body he becomes one with said body and is that person for however long he lives in said body. my only thing is, can he take over a persons body whilst they are alive? i would go more in depth like i did the last time but i am extremely upset about my work being erased so that's the end of this part.

thank you for reading! i have one more thing for you though.

the last time we see sukuna in a manga page after the shibuya incident is where he is on his throne and in his domain. this is after yuji is stabbed by yuta and is presumed "dead" at the time. he seems to be interested in yuta and i can think of 2-3 things. I would love to hear your theories too so don't be afraid to barge into my dms like the koolaid man.

A - sukuna is interested in Yuta because of his ability to use the reverse healing technique ( only a few sorcerers know this. sukuna being the first. shoko being the second one to be told that she has this power and then gojou. ) because of this he sees potential in yuta as well or has added this boy into his plans. after all, there is very few that can make sukuna make an expression that isn't an RBF. aka megumi and possibly gojou. I was looking at the page of him stabbing yuji and noticed we only see the entry point of where the blade enters. it's smaller because some got chunked off so its a possibility yuta used this to his advantage when "killing" yuji and instead hit an artery that could kill him but quickly healed him afterwards. or just his heart. the ideas.

B. Rika, Yuta is able to completely control Rika as shown. Even though he claims he is on the weak side, these two combined seem like an unstoppable force. He may be interested in Rika as she is a curse that has been put on someone that can fully control it. Not many people is shown to be able to control their curse. As we haven't met many.

this was enti and that's the last of my post! thank you for reading and it was a fun one. even though i had to restore this shit. anyways, i'd love you to add or fix up my ideas and tell me your thoughts and opinions! Thanks a bunch!

^ this is for pure humor

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purpletaecup · 4 years ago

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10 ☾ he said that’s how he still remembers me

warnings: explicit language (cursing), mentions of miscarriage, mentions of infidelity (not rlly but on thin ice)

notes: you guys... this is a long one and it’s kind of fast paced, but we are finally getting some answers and the drama really begins! next chapter will be emotional, that’s all I know. I’m sorry for putting you through all this angst!! also, I wanted to bring some attention to the crisis in the Philippines right now with all of the dangerous typhoons. A lot of people need donations and rescuing, so HERE is a link to a twitter thread of donation drives! Please make sure to check it out, share and help spread awareness!

as always, come talk to me in my ask box! and if you want to be added to the taglist, please send an ask, or reply to this post or the masterlist!

not edited!! sorry if there are any mistakes lmfao i usually am sleep deprived when i write so yeah, there are probably some errors.

word count: 5,614

☾

The days following Jungkook’s visit were dull, if anything. You’ve received texts from Yoongi saying that he couldn’t come visit until that weekend because he had to finish wrapping things up in advance at the company so that he could spend some time with you. You had argued over the phone like teenagers when you insisted that he didn’t need to do that and you could take care of yourself until Jin came back. Of course, that led to him ranting about what the doctor said about monitoring you and your symptoms for concussion and to get him to just shut up about the medical stuff (it made your brain hurt more than it did usually), you reluctantly agreed to his ‘visits’, as you’d rather call them.

[nov. 20, 2020]

It was Friday now and you still haven’t gotten any glimpse of actual memories back, although you have been having these strange dreams that you couldn’t really remember when you woke up. You could only describe the feeling it gave you as ‘sinking’, like you were drowning and you couldn’t escape. As much as possible, you tried not to think about these feelings, and focused more on trying to get to know the version of you who lived in this amazing apartment.

The past couple of days that you spent at this apartment put you in awe. It really was the apartment of your dreams, from the color of the furniture down to the little plants stuck in the corner of that tiny shelf in the kitchen. It was beautiful and so you. The only problem was that you couldn’t find anything to help with your current situation. You scoured every nook and cranny and couldn’t find anything dated after your wedding reception. No pictures, no post-its, notes or anything past that date. What you had found in your apartment, you already knew of (aside from the wedding photos). Past photoshoots, high school photos, a notebook full of movie ticket stubs. There was absolutely nothing in this apartment that gave you a clue to the life you lived during the four year gap in your memory.

You even tried to get into your twitter and instagram from when you were nineteen but you couldn’t log in. Wrong password every single time. When you tried to change your password for social media, the email you used had a different password too. You couldn’t figure out what you could have changed your password to. Every password combination you could think of, you tried, but none worked, so you decided to just skip that and maybe go over it later on. Or make a new one. That could work, too.

You couldn’t even look at your twitter account because for some reason, it was private and that seemed strange for someone with almost 130,000 followers. You could see your instagram account from your browser, but it wouldn’t let you see the pictures and posts in full size with the captions and comments, so you were really stuck.

A quick internet search of your name yielded things you already knew. Former model, current writer (that fact was still surprising to you). Old news articles of dating scandals that weren’t true, except for the one with Yoongi. More news articles about your divorce with no further information than what Yoongi had told you already.

It’s as if any clue about your life during your memory loss is unaccounted for. It seemed like at this point, you could only rely on other people telling you about your life and pray to whatever higher power there was to give you your memories back.

This futile search was beginning to make your stomach churn. You almost couldn’t suppress the bile rising up in your throat. Hopefully Jin would return soon. Maybe he could put all of the pieces back together for you.

☾

Jungkook sat in on the uncomfortable leather couch in Yoongi’s office as he waited for the man to finish up whatever he was typing. He looked through his instagram feed and saw one of your posts from July. For a while, he was confused as to why this picture from July would end up on his feed, but he remembered the new instagram algorithm. Curious, he clicked on your profile and looked through it slowly. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually paid attention to your posts.

“I forgot to ask but what did you and Yn do at her apartment? She said you stayed over for a couple of hours.” Yoongi asked though his eyes never strayed from his paperwork.

Jungkook looked up at him and pondered on what to say.

“Hm, yeah. I got roped into staying. She asked a bunch of questions and we looked through her apartment and her photo albums. Her apartment’s cute, by the way. Way different from what your house looked like.” He comments.

“Really?”

“Yeah. It was bright. Lots of green. Nothing I’ve ever seen in the house you guys shared.”

“How was she when you picked her up? She told me a couple of things but I haven’t seen her yet so I can’t know if what she’s telling is the truth or not.”

It was quiet for a moment, with only the sound of turning pages filling the room, as Jungkook wondered what to say to this. He didn’t really know when to start with you, especially with how different you were acting.

“Well, she’s fine. The personality is definitely different. She seems a lot more outgoing, and she had a lot of questions but she didn’t push. I think she wants to try and figure things out on her own.” Jungkook replies as he continued to slowly look through your previous instagram posts.

“She’s been like that. She hates being a burden and gets really defensive about it sometimes.” Yoongi comments.

Jungkook pauses at your most recent post. He checks the date. September 22.

“When did you guys divorce again?” He asked.

At this, Yoongi looked up.

“The divorce was finalized on September 29, I think.” He answered, but looked questioningly at Jungkook as if to ask why.

“Did you know she was going to therapy?” Jungkook asked again.

Hearing this, Yoongi stood up abruptly and hurried over to where Jungkook was sitting.

“What? Where did you see that?” Yoongi asked as he looked over Jungkook’s shoulder.

Jungkook showed him the post. Yoongi took the phone from him and examined the post carefully.

It was a picture of clouds with text on it. Is this the life we really want? The caption read “as per the advice of my therapist, i’m just here to pop in and say that I’ll be going on a hiatus for a little bit”.

“What the fuck? I didn’t know this!” Yoongi yelled, evidently angry.

Jungkook looked at him confused. They were together for four years, how could he not know that you were at least going to therapy?

The same question was running through Yoongi’s head. He took a seat next to Jungkook to process this new information.

“Hyung, can I ask you a couple of questions?” Jungkook requested.

Yoongi could only nod.

“What was Yn like when you were together? Why did you marry her?” Those were the first questions that came out of Jungkook’s mouth.

He was truly, genuinely curious. Though he’s heard some things that Yoongi had said about you, he never knew the full story.

“We married each other because we loved each other. Wasn’t that obvious?” Yoongi retorted.

Jungkook pursed his lips at this. “Well that's what you tell everybody and yeah we get it, but considering the fact that I’ve barely seen you two together more than two handful of times in the past two years, I had to ask.”

“That’s because we were both busy, but that didn’t mean we didn’t spend time together. Of course you never saw it because you weren’t there and I’m not one to actively talk about my love life. Yn and I both liked our privacy.”

“Okay, then what was she like when you were together?”

Yoongi was quiet for a while. There were a lot of things he could say about you when you were together. He just didn’t know how to articulate it to Jungkook.

“When we were together… she was charismatic, beautiful and intelligent. Something about the way she communicated made you feel like you could forget about all of your worries and live life to its extent with her. She constantly dragged me out to picnics and made me forget about the business and my career. She made me feel young again. And she had so much love and care for people around her. For a long time, I felt like I would never be deserving of her. She was kind of like a sunflower. Or sunshine, you know what I mean?” Yoongi poured out.

Jungkook nodded. He realized that this was the time to try to figure out what happened to you in your marriage. From his conversation with you at your apartment, to the description of you that Yoongi had just given, he surmised that the version of you that he knew was someone different and he could only wonder if Yoongi saw it too.

“Did you ever feel like she changed? In the time you guys were together?” He probed.

Yoongi thought about it for a while.

“Yeah, I think so. I always found it strange that she decided to quit modelling. When I met her, she said it was all she ever wanted. I never asked because it seemed like a sensitive topic to her, but I supported her regardless. Writing seemed so out of nowhere for her. I don’t know where it came from. Then she stopped wanting to go to business dinners and events with me and after that we just drifted. And in between that, you introduced me to Yura.”

When Yoongi mentioned Yura, Jungkook winced. He had thought about it some nights ago, but he realized that he might have had a hand in your divorce by introducing Yura to Yoongi. Though he knows Yoongi would have never physically cheated on you, he could see how Yoongi and Yura gravitated towards each other. Jungkook had to admit that Yura was a sweet girl. She was beautiful, and when she smiled it was like sunshine.

Yoongi interrupted his train of thought. “Yura is kind of a complicated subject to our marriage. I would never, ever cheat on someone I loved. And I loved Yn, so much. When you introduced Yura to me, I was happy to meet a new friend and that’s all I saw, but the more you made me hang out with you guys, the more I started to see something in her that I stopped seeing in Yn. I never meant to have any sort of romantic feelings for Yura, but it happened and I feel so fucking shitty for doing that to Yn when I’m the one who promised her a lifetime together.”

Jungkook straightened his posture as Yoongi’s confession.

“Wait, what do you mean by that?” He asked.

“By what?” Yoongi looked at him confused.

“What happened to Yn that pushed you to Yura?”

At this, Yoongi scratched his head.

“I wouldn’t say that it pushed me to Yura, but remember when I said Yn and I started getting distant? As time went on, I felt like she changed and I didn’t know who she was. She used to be so bubbly and happy and always wanting to go look at flowers, but towards the end of our marriage, she stayed holed up in our room no matter how much I asked her to spend time with me. Yura, she was happy to spend time with me. She made me feel like I could forget about everything just by talking to me.”

“Yura made you feel like how Yn used to make you feel?” Jungkook cut him off.

“Well… I guess so.”

Jungkook thought about this for a while but narrowed his eyes at his hyung.

“Hyung, answer this truthfully; do you love Yura?”

The tips of Yoongi’s ears turned red after hearing this.

“Love? I don’t know. I like her? I like the way she makes me feel. She’s beautiful and smart and she makes me happy.”

“Hyung, I don’t know if you realize this, but the way you described Yura is exactly the same way you described Yn.”

“What do you mean?”

“It sounds like you started liking Yura because she reminded you of Yn when you met her. So, do you really, truly like Yura? Or do you just like her because she reminds you of what you don’t have anymore?”

Yoongi lowered his head.

“I-I don’t know. I never thought of it like that.”

Jungkook put his hand on Yoongi’s back to comfort him. Obviously, the man was confused.

“I don’t know if this helps, but I just wanted to let you know that whenever I saw Yn, during those dinners or events, she never gave off the vibe that you described her to be. To me, she was quiet, reserved and never bothered trying to get to know us, your friends, or your business. That’s what she came off as. When you told us that you loved each other and that you eloped, I thought you were joking. When I saw her, she just seemed like the typical trophy wife. Just for show. I never liked her and wondered what you saw in her all the fucking time, but now after hearing this, and after being with her for a couple of hours, it’s obvious that something happened that fucked her up and then fucked your marriage up.” Jungkook ranted.

“I think you might need to reevaluate the relationship you had with Yn so we could help her recover from this whole amnesia thing and hopefully figure out what happened. Something definitely happened, but since I don’t know your marriage like you do, I don't know what it is. I feel guilty now after realizing that I might have had a hand in whatever the fuck she was going through. And maybe figure out what you’re going to do about Yura. Can you keep dating her when your feelings for her are based off of your feelings for your ex-wife, who is currently pregnant with your wife and doesn’t know about it?” He continued.

Yoongi took a deep breath, taking all of this conversation in.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m almost done with the shit here at the company. When I go home, I’ll sort everything out and talk to Yn and Yura tomorrow. I don’t think I can keep seeing Yura with the current situation. I have to tell Yn about the pregnancy as soon as possible, but I’m scared because the doctor told me to monitor for residual symptoms for her concussion. I don’t even know where to begin with the situation.”

“It’s okay, hyung. I’m here for you. You have to tell her about the pregnancy before she finds out herself. In the meantime, I’ll help you out when you can’t take care of her. I already feel shitty enough for how I acted with her when you two were married. I feel like I had the wrong impression this whole time.” Jungkook offered.

Yoongi remembered the moment earlier when Jungkook confessed that he never liked you and that baffled him because he thought that you two, of all people, would get along well together. More often than not, he would feel jealous of Jungkook, who had your admiration when you first started dating. He remembered you always asking him to introduce you to Jungkook and it took a year for him to budge and actually make it happen.

“I’m sure you’ll get along now. I always thought you did get along. Did you know she liked you before?” Yoongi asked.

Jungkook shook his head. “I didn’t know until the other day when you had me take her home. It probably would have helped if you told me she knew who I was before you introduced us after you got together. She never acted like she was a fan of my music and admittedly, I was a dick to her.”

Yoongi glared at him. It was a first for him to hear about how Jungkook treated his ex-wife.

“Well, you should feel shitty because she really liked you and your music. For a while, I thought she liked you more than me. If I had known you were an asshole to her, I probably would have ripped you a new one. Hearing you admit you treated her like shit makes me feel like shit because I never knew and just assumed you guys were good with each other. You didn’t do or say anything bad to her, right? You’re not that type of person.”

Jungkook could only pretend to smile at Yoongi as he asked this.

He shook his head and lied. “No, never.”

Lying through his teeth to his best friend about how he treated you made his heart fall to his stomach. Well, Yoongi didn’t have to know because it was in the past. You couldn’t remember any of the mean things he’d said to you, so now was the perfect time to make a new, much better impression of himself to you. He decided days ago that he would be better, because deep down, he knew that you didn’t deserve to be treated like how he treated you.

[nov. 21, 2020]

Yoongi had taken the day off after his somewhat enlightening conversation with Jungkook last night. He decided that he needed to go see you and spend some time with you today, but before that, he needed to settle things with Yura.

They decided to meet up at his apartment for maximum privacy, just in case anything happened. He wanted to account for the worst case scenario of Yura probably getting angry and throwing things around, but he doesn’t think she’s the type of person to do dramatic things like that.

Turns out, she’s not. When he reluctantly tells her that he can’t continue on with what they had because of residual feelings for you, in addition to the fact that there were complications in that relationship that he can’t speak about carelessly, she had reacted calmly and amicably. Though Yoongi hadn’t expected her to throw a tantrum, he was expecting some kind of anger, but all he got was a sad look passing on her face followed by comforting words.

He apologized profusely for having dragged her around when he still had apparent feelings for his ex-wife and not figuring out his feelings for her, or lack thereof, sooner. She reassured him that it was okay and she’ll be fine.

“I’ll be fine Yoongi. I liked you, but it’s pretty obvious that you used me as some kind of rebound or replacement for your ex-wife, and I was okay with it. Truthfully, I was waiting for you to just come clean and break it off with me. I hope you and Yn figure things out this time, and I hope you can talk to her. Communication is important.” She reminds him before she leaves, but not before letting him know that she would always be there for him as a friend.

He had texted her after she left, and after a couple of minutes to himself, that he was thankful for her being so nice about the situation and all in all, he didn’t regret whatever short-lived affection they had for each other.

Yoongi still couldn’t believe how smoothly everything with Yura went. He hoped that the rest of the day would be the same.

☾

You woke up to a message from Jungkook asking if you were free, so you had to tidy up the apartment and yourself because you didn’t want to look messy in front of someone you had idolized for a long time.

Luckily enough, you didn’t have to cook since Jungkook offered to bring food. You thank your lucky stars for that because for some reason, you’ve been feeling incredibly sluggish and nauseous. It was probably some symptoms of the concussion you suffered. You remembered your doctor saying something about that the last time you were at the hospital.

About 20 minutes later, you heard your doorbell ring so practically skip to the door, excited to see Jungkook and steal the food that he brought.

You opened the door to see Jungkook standing there with a big back of food in his hands. He was wearing all black, with a leather jacket that looked a tad too big on him.

“You look warm.” You comment.

He rolled his eyes. “Are you gonna invite me in or not? I even brought you food.”

You laugh a little and move to the side to give him room to step inside the apartment.

“So, what have you been doing?” He asks as he makes his way to your dining room to put the food down.

You make your way to the kitchen to get some plates for the both of you.

“Nothing. I’ve been trying to look for some stuff but I don’t know where to start so I just gave up until you or Yoongi could come help.” You reply as you move to the dining room to set the plates down.

Jungkook takes the food out and puts some on the plates. Kimbap, like you asked, and some seaweed soup.

“How have you been feeling? Okay?” He questioned.

You nodded, though hesitantly.

“Eh, I’ve been feeling kind of tired. I think I might be sick because I keep wanting to vomit. Is that my wintermelon tea, by the way?” You pointed to the drink in his hand.

Jungkook poked the straw through the lid and handed it to you.

“Sick? Did you take any medicine? Are you feeling better now?”

You took a sip of your tea and sighed, missing the sweet taste of the drink. It felt nostalgic.

“Mhm, took some earlier and I'm feeling much better thanks to the food you brought!” You smiled.

Jungkook rolled his eyes jokingly once again. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

He didn’t think about your illness any further. It was probably a cold and nothing else.

For about 20 minutes, the two of you ate and spoke about little things, mostly about Jungkook and his career. It helped you get to know him a little bit better since he’s the only person besides Yoongi who could help you in your situation until Jin comes back.

After you finished eating, you told him that you needed his help going through your room in case there was anything that could jog your memory.

“I would ask Yoongi but he’s been busy lately.”

“So I’m just your last resort?”

“You’re literally the only other person in my contact list besides Yoongi and Jin.”

“Right, anyways, lead the way!” He exclaimed.

You laughed as you led him to the room at the end of the hallway.

“Sorry if it’s a little messy, I didn’t have that much time to clean up before you got here!” You explained.

Jungkook shook his head, telling you it didn’t really matter since it was gonna be a mess anyways while you two went through your things.

☾

When Jungkook walked into your room, he was once again hit with the feeling that he had no fucking clue who you were in the past years he’d known you. If he could describe your room in one word, it would be enchanting. White walls, white sheets adorn with a baby blue blanket, wooden floors, giant plants and a mirror much bigger than himself. Your desk was filled with different kinds of pens, different notebooks that look to have been trifled through, and an unnatural amount of books and crystals.

From the looks of the rest of your house, he probably shouldn’t be surprised at your bedroom, but it’s still a bit difficult for him to wrap his mind around the fact that you were this type of person. Bright, intelligent, and incredibly neat.

He walked up to your desk and picked up the different notebooks laid out messily on the table. When he opened each of them, he noticed that they were mostly blank, with the exception of a few doodles. There were some things he’d recognized as lyrics from songs he knew, but nothing truly relevant to the memories you lost.

You stood next to Jungkook and looked at the notebooks in his hands.

“I went through those already. Nothing but a few sad lyrics here and there. None of them triggered any memories.” You mentioned.

Jungkook put them down and started walking around the room with you as you talked about what you did find during the days that you were left alone. What he got from that conversation was that you had no luck with anything and that’s why you waited until either he or Yoongi could come over and help you. Jungkook knew that Yoongi was coming over later, so if he couldn’t help you find anything or answer any of your questions today, then maybe Yoongi could.

“Oh! I forgot to mention that I can’t even access any of my social media, so do you think I can look through my instagram through your phone? I mean, if that’s okay with you. I know some people feel uncomfortable giving their phone to someone else to play around with.” You asked.

Jungkook shook his head and stuck his hand in his pant pocket, reaching for his phone.

“It’s fine, you can look at your profile, I think I follow you. The password is 061313.” He stated as he handed his phone over to you.

You grabbed it excitedly, finally getting the chance to see what your life was like during the four years that were missing from your memory. You fell back onto your bed as you unlocked Jungkook’s phone and clicked on his instagram app quickly.

You took a look at his profile first, staring in awe at the pictures he’s posted. Most of his pictures are very dark and he had quite a few selfies. You smiled a little bit as you admitted in your head that he was indeed handsome.

Okay, Yn, onto the more important things! You thought to yourself as you quickly searched your username ‘faeyn’ on the search bar. At first you were excited, but it deflated when you saw just how many posts you had. 13 posts. And almost all of them were just landscapes. Some had pictures of you by yourself, or with Jin, but that was it. How the fuck were you supposed to try to figure out your life through 13 pictures?

Scrolling through each picture and their captions from the oldest to newest, you quickly realized that you must have decided that privacy was something that should be valued. There was nothing of substance to your situation in the captions you’d written. Just casual mentions of how your day was, or what you did that day. The only thing that caught your eye was the latest post you had, dated September 22. It was a picture of clouds and the caption said something about your therapist advising you to take a break, so you were going to be on a social media cleanse for a while.

Well, at least you learned one thing. Apparently, you started going to therapy again. For what? You don’t know. You only remembered going to therapy a couple of times after the whole incident with your bastard ex-boyfriend.

You filed this little detail into your brain and hoped that maybe it would make more sense later on. Swiping up on Jungkook’s phone took you to his home screen, but you paused for a little. Maybe you could snoop through some more apps and see if there was anything else you can find.

No, that would be an invasion of Jungkook’s privacy, you thought. Another part of you argued that he wasn’t going to know and he’s here to help you. If there was anything worth hiding, he wouldn’t have given you his phone and his password so easily. And if there was anything, it wouldn’t be incriminating since he mentioned that you two didn’t really know each other that well, so you shrugged and clicked on his messages.

I’ll just see if there are any messages to me. I won’t look at anything else, you justified, as if it made it any better.

After scrolling for a little while, you finally saw something worthwhile. A text convo between you and Jungkook and from the preview of the message, it looks like it was from the middle of September. You opened it, excited to see the contents, but what you saw made you furrow your brows.

What is this?

☾

After Jungkook gave you his phone, he continued walking around your room until he got to the side of your bed that was next to the window. He looked around for a bit and saw something in the corner of his eyes. Crouching down lower, he saw something on the floor behind your headboard. He couldn’t tell what it was at first, but as soon as he moved closer, he realized it was a thick notebook. Jungkook surmises that you probably hadn’t seen it despite telling him that you looked ‘everywhere’. He took the notebook and sat down on the floor, completely hiding his figure, but not before he could look at you. He wanted to see what was in the notebook before he showed it to you, and luckily enough, you had been facing away from him.

So he sat down and opened the notebook. From just the first page, he could tell it was some kind of diary or journal. There were lots of drawings and stickers and a picture of you in a field of flowers right in the middle of the first page. He flipped through the whole notebook really quickly and found that half of it was already filled.

A part of him wanted to read through the whole thing and see what kind of things you wrote, but another part told him that it wasn’t appropriate. Despite that, he convinced himself that he should read maybe just one entry, just to see if this notebook was something substantial to your current situation.

Jungkook took a peek at you again and noticed you still had your back turned to him so he took that as a sign that he could probably get away with reading an entry. He flipped to a page randomly and focused his eyes on the writing.

The entry was dated August 4, 2020. Fairly recent. He noticed that there were some dark blotches on the paper that made the ink bleed.

He began to read the entry, not knowing what he was going to find out.

It still seems weird to be writing about my problems in a journal. I’m still not used to it, but it’s been helpful since I don’t really have anyone to talk to about this.

That made him frown.

I went to my OBGYN today because I’ve been having severe cramps and bleeding, but I already had my period so I was worried. And the cramps were starting to really hurt, so I had to go get it checked out just in case. Well, apparently I was pregnant and lost the baby.

Jungkook’s eyes widened and he gasped audibly. Luckily enough, it wasn’t loud enough for you to notice. He clasped his hand over his mouth at the disbelief in reading this information. A miscarriage? And so recent, too. He didn’t know how to feel. Yoongi had never said anything about this.

Jin actually just left my house a couple of hours ago. I don’t think the news hit me until now. I texted Yoongi earlier to tell him but he was busy so I think that was a sign that I should probably not tell him. It’s not like it matters right? Since the baby was gone anyways.

I know my therapist told me to stop with the negative self-talk, but it’s moments like this that really push me to just keep thinking I’ll never be good enough for the men that I love. Thanks to my bastard ex for fucking my mind up like this. No matter how hard I try, I always just circle back to the fact that I wasn’t good enough for him, and that I’m not good enough for Yoongi. Even fate is telling me that I’m not good enough to carry a child with the man I love. How fucked up is that?

Jungkook’s heart dropped to his stomach. He felt sick. There were so many things going through his head right now. He felt like he was violating something that was so private. Yoongi didn’t even know that you went through this. You didn’t even know you went through this. He shut the journal quickly, wiping the tears that formed in his eyes.

At that exact moment, he heard your heavy breathing and quickly got up to check on you. He walked around to your side of the bed and found you trembling with his phone in your hands. He noticed that his messages were open and he began to panic.

“What the fuck is this?” was the last thing he heard you say before your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you fell limp into your bed.

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oftenderweapons · 4 years ago

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Mold Me New (1) – Taehyung

A Small Town Swoons story

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Wordcount: 3.2k

Genre: ceramic artist!Taehyung, divorced!reader, Strangers to Lovers, Fluff, Angst, Slice of Life

Rating: 18+ (for future smut and explicit thoughts)

Hello to my readers!!! Welcome to the Small Town Swoons Universe! 🥰✨

In this episode: Introducing the reader’s backstory, exploring her life as a wife and then as a single woman who is slowly getting to know herself as an individual person.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: There are mild curse words, a bit of a sad vibe regarding falling out of love and getting a divorce, description of several bad dates and good ones that end badly, mention of getting drunk, mention of sex toys, mention of one night stand.

In case you like my writing, here is my directory for idol!AUs, scenarios and imagines, and in case you need it, here’s the Spotify music companion.

I forgot to mention, bc I’m dumb and bc we’re becoming one body with two souls, but this chapter (as most of the decent, edited things I post) was beta read by the magical @joheunsaram (she’s recently lost her previous blog and she’s rebuilding it, please go say something nice and YOU SHOULD FOLLOW HER SHE’S A QUEEN ,,,,, my queen 🥺✨)

Enjoy 💜✨

Navi: Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5 — Chapter 6 — Chapter 7

When you fall in love with someone, the feeling is like entering a chocolaterie. The scent engulfs you, full and rich and sultry, igniting your senses, the heat making your skin glisten in a light sheen of perspiration, making you exceedingly vulnerable to pointless stuff, like the way your lover exhales. Or their hands skimming your arms.

At least, that was what your best friend had told you.

You had none of that. To you love was a daisy being twirled under your nose, sharing cotton candy, the smell of crisp apples, flannel sheets, the sound of dead leaves crackling under matching footsteps, a sturdy but shiny steel band around your finger suddenly substituted by a golden one.

That had been the beginning of the end. When practicality and simplicity had turned into conventionality and disinterest.

When gifts stopped being things you loved and became things he thought you loved. And then things everyone loved.

When love became a chore, that's when everything crumbled. When kisses became just a good morning and a welcome back, when there were no more laughs echoing in the kitchen, when leaves kept falling but it was your footsteps alone making them crackle, when flannel sheets kept feeling warm but still something was missing — because someone was missing — when suddenly there was no more time for fairs and cotton candy, when daisies became roses, Love stopped making sense. It stopped having a meaning for you.

You were no longer sure of the life you had built with the man of your dreams, the boy you had fallen in love with when you were eight, the guy who had walked with you across the corridors of your high school, who had made you twirl under the lame disco ball of your prom, who had gone through college finals with you, who had spent three summers making your hangout spot into a home, turning the small old shack into a proper place for you to build a new life together. He was your first kiss, your first valentine, your first time. He was the man at the end of the aisle, the man who would walk with you until the last of your days.

But one day he started running and you still walked.

Or maybe you were both running in different directions, no longer on the path to the same destination, your priorities somehow switched.

Of course, it wasn't his fault.

It wasn't yours either.

You had both participated in this small unraveling, and you had both expressed the intention of changing, of finding compromise, an in-between, without either of you actually making the effort of fixing your trajectory, small habits and old pet peeves pulling you even farther apart.

The attempts — multiple ones — were painstakingly embarrassing. There were tears on both sides as you wondered what had caused this sudden rift that separated you — except it wasn't sudden, only your realisation was; the crevasse had been there for way longer. Maybe it had started as a small chipping the very day you met him, and it wasn't until now that you realised how the small sign had turned into an ominous presence, and then into unfathomable, inevitable doom.

And then the divorce.

It had been disgustingly easy, both parties agreeing on the procedures.

You didn't want the house. And you didn't need it. He didn't either.

Selling it had been exceedingly painless, you had shared the money, since he wanted to offer you stability. He already knew you would both suffer and he didn't want you worrying about rent. He was still your friend, after all.

Going back to being alone scared you at the beginning, until you realised that few things were truly bothering you. At least there wasn't this ghost of a human making you doubt all of your plans. You could plan dinner five days ahead or improvise. You could go to the restaurant as a last minute deal. You could go on long walks without the 'I'm sorry baby, emergency' making you rush back to town.

It felt like a bit of a liberation.

And your family's bookshop was doing well enough, since it was situated near the college and it also offered printing service.

Of course there were bad days. Sometimes you woke up searching for a body beside yours, however that feeling had significantly subdued after you had gotten used to the new bed. You missed human contact, being close, intimate with someone, having someone who knows you that deeply.

And then the true nightmare.

Finding someone new.

You were genuinely uninterested in dating. You had given it a go and it had sufficed.

It wasn't your world.

How could it possibly be?

You had never dated. You had basically offered your heart to the person that has always owned it. It's not like you had any experience in that labyrinth that is dating. All those unspoken social norms and the pining and tension. You only knew the comfort of a warm hug, the beauty of a kiss sparking from innocence and affection and slowly turning into steady, warm passion. You didn't like infernos, you liked candles. You liked the domestic hearth. You liked moderation.

And dating was all about extremes, from strangers to 'I'm inspecting your throat' on date one. And then suddenly it's date three and the same guy who brought you to a pizza place and a diner is suddenly going out of his way to bring you to a pretentious, expensive restaurant as a way to propitiate the possibility of you dropping your panties.

You had allowed this foolery only three times. Apparently all the suitable suitors were either really prone to pushing the pedal or had a passion for tongue gastroscopies.

The first one, Albert, had been quite the gentleman on date one. On date two he started making inappropriate jokes with a heavy body shaming undertone — a bit cliché for the stereotypical gym rat. And on date three he had dropped all pretenses at politeness and had outright palmed your ass in public, which made you rightfully uncomfortable. As you pointed that out, he proceeded saying that after all it was your third date and it was time to loosen up a little.

You didn’t even bother staying for dinner, left a bill on the table and left.

No matter the first disappointment, you decided not to let that disrespectful fool slow you down. And since your best friend knew everything about rat headed number one, you allowed her to set you up with one of her colleagues after she reassured you he was nothing like the one before.

Except somehow he was. The first date was at the local pub, and you somehow found yourself getting along well, his jokes were funny and he had good timing, he was relaxed, confident but still a bit clumsy and shy. He could be a good candidate.

But that was before he pushed his tongue to your tonsils as he kissed goodbye.

You gagged.

On date two he admitted you weren’t exactly his type. You were glad to reciprocate the statement after he told you his dream was having four children and a farm, alluding to the fact that his bride needed to be the perfect housewife.

You were pretty adamant that was not the kind of future you wanted for yourself.

Candidate number three was a guy you had met while grocery shopping, and somehow he had impressed you in an absolutely positive way on date one and two. Everything had been perfect, he was kind, considerate and well-mannered. Date three had been innocent, simple, down-to-earth. And then date four. Perfect dinner at his place. He had made you swoon and he had a very pretty cat he was very affectionate with.

He was the first man you had felt desire for in a very long time — almost eight months after your divorce.

The sex had been decent for being a first time.

And then he had entirely disappeared and never texted or called you back, which didn’t sit entirely wrong with you. You wished him all the best but you were actually glad. You liked being you and doing your own thing: having someone too much down your neck, getting in a relationship, having to check in with another person again felt more like a burden than a win.

Maybe it was just a coping mechanism to avoid facing the fact that he had been someone you could have liked, someone you could have built something with.

You were a happy woman, and it’s not like you really felt lacking or incomplete, like some of your single friends felt. And you had no intention of starting a family anytime soon, no matter if your old high school classmates had begun popping out kids left and right. You were more than happy to live the teen and early-twenty years you had spent in a relationship.

You were getting to know yourself in a way most of your friends didn’t have time to — you could already see them going through a midlife crisis after their kids became old enough to navigate life by themselves, which meant no more need for overprotective, and sometimes borderline suffocating, mothers, who suddenly found themselves with too much free time and too little tasks to complete.

Knowing your needs made you a stronger, better woman, and solitude had gifted you a level of introspection and balance that you doubted they could ever reach; maybe that was an arrogant consideration, but you knew there was no way knowing and loving yourself would ever bring you to crying over disrespectful, ungrateful youth whose only fault was that of growing up out of their mothers’ plans.

Unfortunately, there was no way your family — especially your grandmother — could ever tolerate the idea of you not needing a man and a family to be happy.

“Oh, come on, isn’t it time for you to bring a nice fellow back home?”

You shook your head as you and your grandma took a walk along the river, the sunny March afternoon feeling way too nice to stay at home. “Granny. There’s no people like Grandad anymore.”

“Oh, darling. You’re starting with the wrong role model. Not even back in my days we had men like him. He was the exception.” She nodded to herself with a sweet smile, remembering the husband she had lost a few years back.

“It’s so frustrating. And after all that happened… You know how it was. We were together for years. He was the only one I had. I don’t even know how to do these things. And books cannot teach you stuff like that. The more you read, the more you realise that most of these men had never even seen a rom com.”

“Oh, come on, but you have the internet these days! Can’t you find him in there? You have all these phones and computers and everyone has them, there must be a good one in the internet.”

She always said that “in the internet”. Like it was a physical place.

“I don’t even want to look in there, Granny. There are so many dangers in there.” You shuddered as you thought at the funny instagram pages where the people posted screenshots of the worst descriptions. All the embarrassing playboys and the fishermen and the lame wanna-be poets.

“Right… How can you know he is really is a person?” She considered, patting your back proudly. “You’re pretty. And you’ve always had the most perfect bum of all your cousins. Just like mine!” She grinned cockily, giving a playful smack to your ass, making you laugh loudly.

“It won’t last long.” You said, looking down. Solitude scared you sometimes. Being old and alone could be hard on the spirit and you had a feeling that old hag you would curse your dumb arrogance and inconsideration. However, for now you were still somehow making it through. Your divorce was finalised almost ten months ago. You could still consider yourself just fresh out of it.

“You’re smart. And I’m sure you have a lot to offer. You’re a good woman, and you’re far from being too old. There’s never a thing such as too old. Don’t let yourself be fooled. Look at me.” She said. “I’m still living a good life. Herbert has left me but I’m still here. Walking. Cooking. Drizzle keeps me good company.” She smiled sweetly at the mention of her dog, a lovely large poodle elegantly strolling at her side, its light grey fur finely trimmed by your grandmother’s expert hands. She had been a hairdresser for decades: learning how to keep Drizzle’s coat had been a cup of tea for her and he’d kept her distracted from grief after your grandpa passed away.

Her face formed a meditative pout. “Maybe you should just get a dog. Or even better, a cat. You’ve always looked like a cat child to me. So quiet and focused, like you knew some secret that nature would speak to you alone. You were always so attentive as a child!”

You smiled and looked at the path under your feet. Drizzle stayed unbothered as a loud, angry dachshund walked towards him, barking annoyingly. You had never felt sympathy for that small evil breed.

“I think I could get a kitten one of these days. Or a cat, from the shelter.”

“I’m sure you’ll find it in the internet!”

“So we’re really doing the party thing?”

“Listen, baby. It’s gonna be your first party as a free woman. Real mind blowing birthday sex.”

“I’m not a virgin, you know?” You stared at your face in the mirror, spreading some moisturiser over your forehead, inspecting the small lines there. You shrugged and let them be.

Maybe you would spend your best years single and find a sugar baby in ten or twenty years. Wait, weren’t those called toy boys?

Who cares.

Maybe it was time to get the post-grad you had always dreamed of. You would need to check your bank account before making that decision — maybe finally telling yourself yes could be the real birthday gift. That is, beside the huge dildo waiting in your drawer. Not being attracted to men or women didn’t mean you didn’t like sex.

You just found it difficult to imagine being with someone.

“Darling I’d bet an arm and a leg he never gave it to your right. You just need a bit more experience.”

All you needed was a hot bath, some candles and a good book. No man, no one night stand, no birthday sex could possibly make you as happy as decent jazz, wine and a novel.

“Why aren’t we doing that wine tasting at the winery out of town?”

“Because I want you choking on cheap alcohol, having all the fun you didn’t have on your twenty-first birthday because you were planning your own wedding. And I bet you’re the only one who wasn’t fucked in the bathroom of the Wickhead.”

Terry could be incredibly crude, but you loved her nonetheless. You loved her even more for it. She had never hidden anything from you, she had told you even the most embarrassing details of her own life. And she had always been the kindest, most faithful friend: she had driven you way out of town when you were eighteen and your period was late and you needed to buy a pregnancy test without all everyone and their dog knowing; she had chosen your wedding dress for you, spotting it and telling you it was going to be the one before you could even see it. When your marriage had started crumbling, she had spent countless nights with you, keeping you company when your husband was busy with his business trips. Though Terry had insinuated cheating, you knew he would never break your trust like that, and she had decided to trust your better judgement.

You had simply fallen out of love with each other.

And when you had moved into your new apartment, Terry had helped you repaint the walls and build the extra bookcases and install the shelves and fill your wine stand. Before leaving she had grabbed an unfamiliar box from her car, placing it on top of your bed, opening it and spreading out a set of “single necessaire”, as she called it. A couple toys, lube, condoms. To celebrate your re-found sexual promiscuity, she had said, though you objected, it was hard rediscovering something you had never had.

She had shaken her head and left you to “familiarise” yourself with everything.

“You know I’m not exactly a party person, Terry. This will end badly.” You said, sitting on your bed with your back against the headboard, your legs stretched out before you.

“You can allow yourself some fun once in a decade, you know?” You could hear her scoff on the phone.

“But I do have fun. Book. Wine. Bingo!” You explained, rolling your eyes as the booed.

“Come on, do it for me. Do it for your single friend who wants to get drunk and possibly sixty-nine? Please?” The other thing wrong with Terry is that if you ever met her in person, you would face the sweetest five foot three and a half — she insisted on the half — human being you could ever meet, with pretty wavy blonde hair and wide, sweet green eyes, the most boopable button nose and a sprinkle of freckles on her golden skin. She literally glowed in sunlight and her flowy gowns always made her look like a goddess: you could see men fighting for her, dying for her and going to war for just one of her gentle smiles.

“Don’t you have a FWB for that sixty-nine thingie?” You asked with an exceedingly inquisitive tone. It had been a while since she last updated you.

“Dumped him.” She replied curtly.

You tutted before exhaling. Emotionally constipated people — what’s wrong with them?

“He’s dating someone since he was ready for a relationship.” Terry sounded a bit colder than usual.

“And you weren’t?” You asked. You felt your tone hesitate with slight concern. You knew she would just put up a wall and ignore your question.

Fortunately, she didn’t. “I’m not ready to talk about that. It’s complicated, Frog.”

She was hurt and wanted a distraction.

“Okay, Terry. We’re going to get rip roaring drunk this Saturday.”

The line went silent.

“You know I love you right?”

“I love you too, sweetie. Now go to sleep, you have an early shift tomorrow.”

The line went silent after you bid each other goodnight, your body settling underneath the sheets once you realised your eyes were fluttering shut as you tried to read a few pages to put yourself to sleep.

Placing down the book, you hugged the extra pillow, settling your face in the corner between your sleeping pillow and your spare one, the heavy woolen comforter acting like a weighted blanket. You placed another pillow behind your back, making a soft cocoon all around you.

Yes, sometimes you still missed being hugged to sleep.

The taglist is open!

Navi: Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5 — Chapter 6 — Chapter 7

#taehyung x reader #kim taehyung fanfiction #thetruthuntoldnet #thebtswritersclub #Taehyung strangers to lovers

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moogghost · 3 years ago

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i've had this chapter finished for a good while actually but i recently finished chapter four and started writing five a few days ago so i'm posting it now- i have the previous chapters posted on ao3 here if anyone wants them (the au may or may not make sense without them but also it's only the third chapter so idk for sure?)

As the tram came to halt, Jean-Pierre lightly pushed against the door, opening it. They took a few steps out, inhaling deeply as the crisp air of Autumn Mountain filled their lungs. Finally, I made it. With little trouble, to boot. They took a few more steps forwards in order to make room for the others, though they didn’t pay the others much mind. I’m free to go look for Robin.

They took a quick glance at the others. Well, provided they don’t get to celes first. Sucking in their breath, they wanted to groan. They’d probably have to ask a few more things regarding that now, wouldn’t they? I guess it doesn’t matter all that much now. At least I’m not as far away as I used to be.

Before Jean-Pierre could even say anything, Olivia had spoken up first. “Atutumn Mountain…we’re finally here!” She pointed at a nearby tree, its leaves reflecting their own individual sunsets. “The leaves are such a bright shade of red - it’s beautiful!”

Nodding slightly, Jean-Pierre couldn’t help but agree. While they weren’t the happiest about trekking through the mountains, they were definitely sight to behold. “Indeed. They make for a wonderful display of nature’s art.” Their fingers curled and uncurled restlessly - they really wish they had proper art supplies on them now. It definitely wouldn’t be able to match nature itself, but… Jean-Pierre pushed that thought aside - they couldn’t be thinking about that when they needed to find Robin. Maybe…after I find Robin.

“Yeah, it’s something like that!” Olivia agreed, still taking in the mountainous collage of reds, oranges, and yellows. She glanced down at Bob-omb, smiling. “And this could be the perfect place for making new memories! Right, Bombert?”

Bob-omb let out something of a cough. “Uh, my name is Bob-omb, ma’am…” He looked up at the blue streamer, which was fluttering just overhead. “We should probably start following that blue streamer now.”

“Oh, yeah! I almost forgot about that,” Olivia admitted, scratching the back of her head. She turned to Jean-Pierre suddenly. “That reminds me - didn’t you say you were going to go find your emmer right away? Since we’re, uh…here now.”

Hrm. They’ll probably be more suspicious if I say no - but they’ll also be suspicious since Robin’s the one guarding the blue streamer. They’d just have to settle for another half-truth. It didn’t make Jean-Pierre feel the greatest, but it would have to make do for the time being. It wasn’t like they had many other options.

“I would presume so. I would expect them to be further down Autumn Mountain, however,” Jean-Pierre explained, already unsure if they said it in the right order or if they had overshared once again. Nothing much I can do now, though… “That would be…further down the path the blue streamer is on, correct?”

Glancing over the blue streamer for a moment, Olivia eventually responded. “I think so. Do you think they’re down there or something?”

Jean-Pierre nodded. “Most likely.” Disregarding Robin’s love of theatre, cele…well, if I’m remembering this area correctly, this is where the Water Vellumental lives? Once they had gotten the chance to properly talk with Robin after their initial deaths, they had learned that Robin’s cause of death was a direct result of an argument with Deluge, the Water Vellumental. It would be a surprise to Jean-Pierre if Robin decided to go anywhere near Deluge’s shrine after what happened. “I wouldn’t imagine cele would stick around here, if I’m being honest.”

“Ah,” Olivia murmured. She tilted her head slightly. “Does that mean you’ll be staying with us longer?”

I mean, if they’re set on heading right for the streamer… Jean-Pierre simply nodded. “If you’ll have me.” They let their gaze trail over to the pit over to their left. Directly above it was the blue streamer. “The blue streamer seems to go further West, I’m guessing.”

Olivia did the same, nodding. “Yeah, I think you’re right!”

His face lightening up a bit, Bob-omb took a few steps forwards. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

Without waiting for much of an answer, Bob-omb walked a bit closer to the edge dropping off into the small pit. Jean-Pierre gripped onto the straps of their backpack a bit harder, holding onto their breath. Gods, he could be a little more careful! They kept their mouth shut, however - there was no use in getting into an argument about it right away. Not waiting for an answer, Bob-omb hopped down the ledge.

“Bhombas, be careful!” Olivia called, hovering above it.

He glanced back over his shoulder, a little exasperated. “Please don’t call me Bhombas! My name is Bob-omb.”

As he continued headed in the direction of the streamer, Olivia looked to be in thought for a few moments, mumbling something underneath her breath. Upon stopping, she perked up. “Alright, got it now! I won’t mess up Bobby’s name anymore, promise!”

Was she mishearing his name, or… Jean-Pierre doubted it - they were fairly certain that he’d said it enough times, though they could always have been wrong. I’d imagine she’s trying though. I don’t think she fully remembered my whole name. From what they could pick up on, she seemed to best remember them as Coloured Pencils, or simply Jean. They weren’t sure if it was just trouble with names or if part of it was their own name in general, but regardless, they weren’t going to comment on it.

Without too much hesitance, Olivia and Mario followed Bob-omb down the small ledge, Jean-Pierre eventually heading after them. Olivia simply floated down, with Mario leaping down it. I…am not going to make that jump. Even though the pain had died down since the first few hours after their fight with Mario and Olivia, they didn’t want to risk it. Digging their gloved fingers into the rock, Jean-Pierre slid down it, feeling the friction burn against the gloves' fragile fabric. It still scraped against their fingers, but it seemed significantly less painful than the alternative options.

Their gaze darting around briefly, Jean-Pierre let out a quiet sigh upon seeing Bob-omb standing near a pile of several boulders further along the pit. I suppose it’s more interesting than nothing.

“Hey, Big M! Check this out.” Bob-omb waved to Mario, not moving. Not bothering with a response, Jean-Pierre simply followed Mario and Olivia to Bob-omb.

“What the- a dead end?!” Olivia stared at it in shock for a few more seconds, before huffing. “How are we supposed to follow the streamer now? Curse you, lousy dead end!”

Bob-omb looked the pile up and down, frowning. “I know jumping’s your whole thing, Big M, but I don’t think even you can jump over them.”

Crossing their arms, Jean-Pierre spoke up after a small bout of silence. “I mean, not theoretically. We could try climbing it, no?”

Bob-omb gave Jean-Pierre a disbelieving stare. “Why would you want to do that?”

Shaking their head, Jean-Pierre raised an eyebrow at him. “Never said I wanted to. I was simply putting things in perspective. It is an option.”

“An unrealistic one, but sure,” Bob-omb muttered. I didn’t try to make it sound realistic, either.

Instead of biting back, Jean-Pierre shrugged. “Well, I could always blow it up.” Provided I can get my backpack working… “But it’d be a pain to clear up, plus I don’t want to risk more potential injuries from the blast impact.”

Bob-omb glared at Jean-Pierre, his eyes wide. “Do not do that.” Jean-Pierre struggled to hold back their laughter - at least Bob-omb's reactions to their suggestions were amusing.

Olivia cast a worried glance between them, but didn’t reprimand either of them. “Regardless, I guess it doesn’t matter all that much. We won’t be able to get past these rocks that easily.”

“Might I suggest that we look around the mountain in the meanwhile, then? Standing around here will do us no good,” Jean-Pierre spoke up, though they kept their voice low. I don’t think they’ll listen, but perhaps it’s worth a try. I doubt they want to be standing around here, either.

Mario gave them a curt nod in agreement - Bob-omb and Olivia didn’t seem to have any qualms with the idea, even looking mildly relieved. Is it because I suggested blowing that pile of rocks up? They didn’t need an answer for that, as they already knew. I doubt my missiles are even working. They’ll live.

In silence, the group began making their way out, following the clear path the pit laid out for them. Soon they came into a clear opening, with scattered puddles of water surrounding it. A few Cheep Cheeps were flopping about in the water, or laying still - Jean-Pierre felt their chest tighten as they continued to look around. There was a river here, wasn’t there? This isn’t just some chasm in the middle of nowhere. That didn’t make sense to them, though - how would the entire river disappear into nothing? It sounded ridiculous.

The others also seemed to take note of it - Olivia was beaming. “Hi, little fishies!” The fish simply flopped about in the small puddles. Olivia frowned, looking thoughtful. “Do these mountain fish spend their entire lives just flopping about? How interesting…”

Bob-omb gave her an odd look. “I-I know I’ve lost most of my memories, but don’t fish kind of need water?”

Jean-Pierre held back a sigh, already being able to tell where that discussion would go. They kept their gaze on the drying puddles, their eyes narrowed. From the corner of their eyes, they could tell that the others went on ahead - they guessed it was the oak brown boat flipped on the ground that caught their attention. No matter. It isn’t like they’ll be able to do anything with it.

Crouching down, Jean-Pierre examined one of the puddles a bit closer. In the middle of it was a Cheep Cheep, flopped over on its side. It was much bigger than most of the other Cheep Cheeps, however - Jean-Pierre let out a barely audible breath once they realised what it was. One of Olly’s Folded Soldiers. I know they’re practically everywhere now, but…if they’re here now, then that probably means Olly or one of the other members of the legion did something to the river.

The idea that it was Olly or someone working with him wouldn’t surprise Jean-Pierre - considering Olly raised the dirt from underneath Overlook Tower, he wasn’t above utilizing certain powers to stop his enemies from getting anywhere near the streamers. But to do that he’d need the Water Vellumental's power, wouldn’t he? I doubt any of this could’ve happened with Deluge’s permission. All Jean-Pierre really knew about Deluge was that he was the Water Vellumental, and the one who killed Robin. Albeit, they didn’t know the full details of how or why, but it was something. If Deluge took Robin out that easily, then I can’t imagine Olly being able to take too many hits. He might be strong, but Deluge is a literal god.

Hmm.

Jean-Pierre shut their eyes, grimacing. It wouldn’t do them too much good to fully dwell on it. Provided I stay with those three, I’ll find out eventually. As they stood back up, they brushed out their uniform. From the corner of their eyes, however, the flopped over Cheep Cheep suddenly flipped up. Jean-Pierre gave a sharp whiff, jerking back - the Cheep Cheep didn’t hesitate in jumping at them. Shit. Pushing aside the fierce banging pulsing through their veins, Jean-Pierre immediately swatted at it. They managed to slap it to the side, only to fall backwards, landing on their back - along with falling onto their own backpack. It let out a soft clicking noise, right before they felt something dislodge in the backpack. Without a moment to recover, a pencil shot out of the backpack, headed towards the Cheep Cheep. The missile hit without fail - it stunned the Cheep Cheep briefly, before it burst into confetti. Shaking a little, Jean-Pierre carefully slid their backpack off their shoulders, struggling to catch their breath. I…I just shot a fish.

The others seemed to be just as shocked - having turned around just in time to witness the scene. Bob-omb had a mixture of frustration and terror on his face - Mario’s was similar, albeit with less fear than the former. Olivia seemed more concerned if anything, though Jean-Pierre was willing to bet her shock was about equal to it.

Olivia was the first to speak up. “D-did you just shoot…” she seemed to be at a loss for words - not that Jean-Pierre could blame her.

“I…guess so,” they answered, still unable to compose themself. Slowly, they stood up, avoiding their backpack. “And I suppose we know my backpack still works.” With less control than I’d like, but…

Bob-omb eyed the backpack nervously. “Ah. So that thing has missiles in it that could fire at any time and the comment about blowing the rocks up was not a joke at all. That’s uh, cool. Coolcoolcool-”

Jean-Pierre narrowed their eyes at him. “Not at any time. There’s several specifics on how it functions and whatnot.” Reaching down to grab the backpack, they shrugged. “Besides, I’m more shocked it even worked for me. It’s seen better days.”

The others still looked unsure how to feel about their last statement, both Mario and Olivia especially. They felt a prick of indignation run through them - the two had just fought them. Their backpack hadn’t become entirely obsolete, but it had been damaged enough for it to barely work on Jean-Pierre’s command. Their grievances aside, they kept their mouth shut. Just ignore them, Jean. Getting mad about it isn’t worthwhile.

…There was an awful silence looming above them, though.

“Ahem,” they coughed, hoping to avoid coming off as any more intimidating than they already had. But seriously? It wasn’t that terrifying, was it? “…Perhaps we should change the topic. Was there anything of note about that boat?”

Olivia frowned, glancing at it. “I think it’s just an ordinary boat. It’s weird that there’s no water or anything, though. Don’t boats usually need water to work?”

Bob-omb slowly raised an eyebrow at her. “…I’d say they typically do, ma’am.”

“I mean- I know that, Bobby!” Olivia said, floundering for words. She gave the emptied lake a grand gesture. “If there’s boats and fish and puddles…wouldn’t this have to be some sort of lake?”

Jean-Pierre glanced down at the flipped over boat. “I believe it was. Dried up recently, most likely.”

Bob-omb gave Jean-Pierre an odd look. “How could anything dry up all of that, though? It’s a whole lake.”

Crossing their arms, Jean-Pierre shrugged. “I have no solid clue, but I'd assume someone is behind this.”

“Um…you mean my brother, right?”

Despite their hesitance, they nodded. “Probably. To make you guys struggle even more, I'd guess.”

Frowning at the emptied lake, Olivia shook her head. “He really has it out for us, doesn’t he?”

You and Mario most likely, but that works too. Jean-Pierre wasn’t sure if Olly was aware that they weren’t quite dead yet, but it was bound to happen at some point. They wondered how Olly would react if they saw Jean-Pierre with Mario and Olivia - would it be disgust? Disappointment? Rage? They weren’t sure. And honestly, I don’t want to find out. All Jean-Pierre was doing was going to their younger emmer to make sure cele wouldn’t get hurt. If they were to assist Mario and Olivia, then it would also benefit themself, without a doubt. They didn’t exactly want to get further involved with the whole origami kingdom business, anyways. The last time they got involved in another kingdom’s affairs, it ended in their death. They didn’t exactly want to repeat that.

Olivia spoke up again after another bout of silence. “Then there should be a way to fill it back up, right? If it can be drained just like that, then I’m sure we can just as easily fix it!”

Jean-Pierre bit on their tongue and remained silent. Don’t say anything you might regret, Pierre. She had a point, even though she and the others were likely unaware of it - Deluge did make his home within Autumn Mountain. He was the Water Vellumental; with his assistance, filling up the lake would be a breeze. They still doubted it would be easy, however. Jean-Pierre wasn’t quite sure what Olly had to go through in order to raise the earth beneath Overlook Tower's base, but they were confident that the Earth Vellumental would’ve put up some sort of fight. And then there’s Taniel’s whole situation with the Ice Vellumental. He had to have fought Deluge somehow…Deluge wouldn’t just let something like this happen.

…or at least, Jean-Pierre hoped he wouldn’t. He didn’t sound like he would, from what Robin told Jean-Pierre, but they couldn’t rely solely on hearsay. Robin was biased, and they already had their own personal instances of receiving an entirely person than expected. Their own boyfriends were examples of that - Holt’s more introverted yet flippant attitude, in contrast to Taniel’s oddly sincere behaviour towards others, despite his distrustful attitude towards most.

Jean-Pierre kept their gaze on the puddles scattered within the pit as the others went on ahead. Well, I just hope it doesn’t come down to fighting Deluge. They took a few steps towards the stairs leading out of the pit, adjusting their backpack. I don’t want to end up like Robin did.

…

In front of them stood a large, quartz building nestled in between two larger mountains. Pillars were placed in front of the door, which had a doubled frame. The doors themselves had an intricate pattern on them - from the way they were presented, Jean-Pierre had to assume they were carved into the door. The doors were shut tight, enough that not even an explosion could force it to open up. To keep intruders out, presumably?

“So this is the Water Vellumental's shrine,” Olivia breathed, tilting her head back to look at it. “It’s bigger than I expected.”

Jean-Pierre couldn’t help but agree with her - while they expected it to be somewhat big, they didn’t quite expect it to be as massive as it was. Perhaps Deluge needed more space, or he just likes having a huge shrine all for himself. Regardless, it was a bit of a pain to see. They would have to go through the shrine in order to meet him. In a likely huge, damp, moldy shrine. It couldn’t be helped, however. They didn’t want to risk being attacked by a Folded Soldier or two, not to mention they doubted Mario and Olivia would trust them enough to stay out of trouble.

Bob-omb had an apprehensive expression on his face. “How are we supposed to get inside? The doors are locked, I think.”

I could always try blowing them up- Jean-Pierre stopped themself from saying it out loud. It was impractical, sure, but it would be a quick way to find out if it’d work. Not to mention, it would definitely be more entertaining, to Jean-Pierre at least. And I would be able to say I can hit things other than fish…

Olivia pondered it for a moment, then gestured behind them. “Wait, look!”

Behind them were two buttons - they had foot-shaped prints on them, having a similar texture to the carved patterns on the shrine's door. How much time did those markings take? They were curious to know, especially with the smooth curves for the footprints. I suppose paint or something would’ve been faster, but the carving is some dedication.

Jean-Pierre took a few steps towards it, crouching down to examine the carving some more. “Well, these are rather well done, I must admit.” They turned back to the others. “I’m guessing this would be the method for opening the door? I don’t see any other way.” Outside of blowing it open, but…I don’t want to risk ending up like Robin did.

Bob-omb blinked at them in surprise. “I thought you were going to suggest blowing the door up…”

“No, I don’t want to risk angering the Water Vellumental,” they responded with a shrug. “Not to mention, I rather like the patterns on the door.” I’ll try to keep those in mind when I get the chance to draw later…maybe they could make a good pattern for ocean waves if I attempt doing another sea-based piece?

Bob-omb didn’t look entirely convinced, but didn’t press further. He instead walked over to the button on the other side. “So…should I just stand on this, then?”

“I think so,” Olivia replied - Bob-omb stepped on it, being careful not to fall over.

Well, since I'm already near it…might as well try. Jean-Pierre did the same, struggling to maintain their balance as the button seeped further into its slot. A heavy rumbling sounded from behind them - the doors gradually parting open. Almost letting out a sigh of relief, Jean-Pierre adjusted their backpack's shoulder straps slightly. At least trying to see Deluge wasn’t a completely worthless idea.

Olivia beamed. “It opened! We can go see the Water Vellumental!” She began to float towards it, before glancing back at the others. Bob-omb hesitantly remained where he was, unblinking. “Bobby? Aren’t you coming with?”

His face was something reminiscent of a frown. “Oh, I uh…I’m just exhausted from pressing that button, you know? It took a lot out of me.” He inhaled sharply, quietly adding, “Not because I don’t want to go inside of a dangerous and wet temple, absolutely not. Definitely isn’t terrifying at all, nope.”

Jean-Pierre raised an eyebrow at him - was he trying to be subtle, or…? “Are you…scared to head in?”

Bob-omb's gaze quickly darted away. “No…”

Jean-Pierre wished he would just be honest with them, but they couldn’t exactly blame him. They doubted that they would’ve been willing to admit their own fear at that age, if they were being blunt. He’s just a kid…he probably doesn’t want to admit it, either. Not to mention, they were going to face someone who was quite literally a god. While Jean-Pierre had their doubts that Deluge was just as vicious as Robin made him out to be, it didn’t hurt to be cautious.

I shouldn’t care, though. Once this whole detour is over with, I’m headed straight for Robin.

Still, they couldn’t help but feel some level of pity. And maybe a smidge of concern. I’m sure he’s tougher than he looks, but…I don’t think he should be on his own out here, either. If his tendency to get into trouble says anything…

“Hmm,” Jean-Pierre responded, trying to keep their tone's inflection even - for the most part, it seemed to work with Olly and Saxen, so perhaps it’d have similar affects. “If you say so. Just…try to avoid getting into any more trouble.”

Albeit taken off-guard by Jean-Pierre’s remark, Bob-omb nodded. “I…yeah, I’ll do that.” After an awkward pause, he eventually laid down on the path a few feet from the entrance. He crossed his arms behind his back, resting on them. “Feel free to wake me up when you guys get back.”

His answer wasn’t met with any further questions, but Jean-Pierre still couldn’t shake off the nagging tugging at their chest. Maybe I should’ve made more of a point? Or shouldn’t have said anything? They weren’t really with the others - did they have the right to say anything regarding it? They planned on going off on their own once a good opportunity presented itself. That doesn’t matter, I shouldn’t care to begin with.

Pushing their thoughts aside, they followed Mario and Olivia into the shrine. It wasn’t worth worrying about, anyways - not when they were about to face the Water Vellumental himself.

#pmtok #pmtok au #fanfic #- 🍃#writing this fic has just made me love jean-pierre even more tbh #what a character! i love them dearly #ghost's art

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off-in-the-moors · 4 years ago

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Joseph Kavinsky analysis, part 2

aka no voice and no dream pack

Warnings: spoilers for the whole Raven Cycle, mentions of: drug-use, abuse, death, s*cid, xenophobia

Part 1 // Part 2

Before starting, I wanted to thank for likes and support, not only on part 1 but also on my other posts. I was writing this more for the catharsis, after months of seeing and not really speaking about a lot of stuff. It’s nice to know, somebody read it. Some say, Kavinsky is their comfort character and, well, he will stay with me for a very long time. But enough of that. Let's talk about the point of view, xenophobia and the Dream Pack.

PoV

The running motif in TRC is, all antagonists get PoVs. No matter if they appear in one book (like Whelk) or reoccur (like the Greenmatles). The reader gets multiple chapters with their backstories, internal thoughts and goals. This move by the author is a double-edged sword, on one hand we get a better understanding of them but on the other, by knowing them better they become less effective antagonists and the air of mystery and surprise of what they're up-to/what they know is lost. E.g. In TDT we are first told about Colin Greenmatle and what is he capable of, making him a good threat for our main characters. But when we finally meet him in BLLB, with his attitude and scenes like dissing Ronan's Latin grammar or making cheese crackers while his wife is held at gun-point, he becomes more of a comedic antagonist than a villain to fear.

But here's the thing: I already lied to you. In TRC, all antagonists get PoVs, except for Kavinsky. It's a odd exception from the rule, considering Gray Man in TDT and The Wasp Demon in The Raven King, also got PoVs. But why? There are two things to look at. One I already mentioned. By giving a character PoV, the reader gets better understanding of them. By not giving Kavinsky one, Margaret didn't give anything to make K or his actions clear or understandable. By not knowing his motivations, K is left to pure interpretations, but how the reader will do it mostly will be influenced by his demonetization. Of course, not everybody will just accept what the book tells them without thinking for themselves but most fans don't.

"Bang", he said softly, withdrawing the fake gun. "See you on the street."

Alone, this single line can be interpreted in many different ways. Is it K being angry and threatening Ronan? Or maybe Joseph breaking inside because he was proofen, he really has no one? It all depends on the reader.

Second, when asked on her tumblr, if she'll ever write anything from K's pov (in 2015, before The Raven King was published), M*ggie said she won't, because: she already explored that type of character ("the thoughts and motivations of a powerful, suicidal, creative person with few inhibitions") in Sinner (2014, spin-off/companion book of her older series, The Wolves of Mercy Falls, 2009-2011 for the main three) with Cole St. Clair; that writing through PoV of such character is emotionally and mentally draining for her (which is understandable); and even if she wanted to explore it again in the future, she would through a different character's lenses than K's.

Let's talk about St. Clair.

The characters of Cole and Kavinsky have some similarities: both are drug addicts, who are rich.

That's where they end.

Cole was a famous musician, having the stereotypical rock-star life (drugs, alcohol and sleeping with fans included) with good family relationships, while K was a son of a mobster who tried to kill him and a mother who was a drug-addict herself. While their perspectives would have similarities, there is also other problems. Cole St. Clair already got PoVs in his series and a stand-alone book, Joseph Kavinsky got nothing and will get nothing. Cole had friends that cared for him and helped him, Joseph Kavinsky had his Dream Pack (which whom we don't know what type of relation he had) and his customers who we can safely say, only cared for what he can provide them with, he tried to befriend or start a relation with Ronan who rejected even the idea of it and no one even reached out to him. Cole got his happy ending and (hinted at) a girl he loved, K got rejected by everyone and committed public suicide. (Now, I heard a opinion that K didn't commit suicide, because the dragon killed him. Here is the thing, K could move out of the way multiple times, even Ronan shouted to him to move. But he didn't. He watched the dragon fly towards him and just said "The world is a nightmare.". He choose death.)

People wanted K's PoV, because they wanted to know, what pushed him to do what he did in TDT. But, in my opinion, even if M*ggie gave K pov, she would use it to further demonize him than to make the reader understand him more. She already did write a whole post exaggerating and straw-manning the canon, just to also say "Kavinsky has a very logical backstory that leads him to this place". A backstory we as the reader never truly see and one she forgot to write into her book. At the end, she truly cared only about Ronan.

Xenophobia

The Raven Cycle is a very flawed and problematic series, there are already many other posts taking about racism, misogyny, lack of diversity and many other issues with it, but in regards to Kavinsky, I'll only touch on the xenophobia. (I could talk also about portray of metal-illness, but I'm not the person to talk about it and I would feel comfortable with it.)

Kavinsky is a stereotype of a Slavic person, one we see in American media since the Cold War, especially in 80s movies. The Evil Russian trope. The son of the mobster, drug-addict, forger who can get you anything even illegal stuff, a thief.

When describing Kavinsky, one of the things Ronan mentions is: "refugee's face, hollowed-eyed and innocent". One could argue, "refugee" has many meanings, but boiling it down, is a person who came to the country to escape and seek a refuge. Many people moved to America to find a better life, in the believe of the American Dream, and many of them where driven to do that, especially from ex-Eastern Bloc countries. Kavinsky's Bulgarian, unknown if an immigrant himself or a son of immigrants, but the point still stands.

About Blue’s comment "import from somewhere else" I don't need to say much. First, obvious: You don't import people, only foreign goods, like cars. Second: this shows, he is "the other" in the eyes of the characters.

There is more to it, then just the physical description. We need to look at the outfit he wears. White tank top, white sunglasses, a small earring in one ear and a gold chain around his neck. This gives two images: one of a typical douche-bag, party asshole and the rich kid; the second of a Slavic stereotype, especially of a Russian criminal. If Margaret wanted to make K even bigger stereotype, she would dress him like a dress/gopnik, in a tracksuit.

The thing is: M*ggie could had saved the situation if she had subverted the stereotypes. E.g. K didn't wanting anything to do with the crime live, his family was forced into by circumstances or K being the guy to get stuff from, but he isn't doing it for any gain.

The truth is, K being Bulgarian doesn't add anything to his character, except for xenophobia. (Personally, I tried to find where the surname "Kavinsky" came from. It is Slavic, that much I can tell you for sure, but the rest is my speculation and searching. My best guesses are: Russian (it appears most commonly in Russian, after USA and a use in Russia set novel) or Polish (because it has uncanny simulates to the surname "Kawiński", if it was anglicized like e.g. "Kamiński" into "Kaminsky"). This isn't a common surname and with Peter from the To All the Boys trilogy and the musician, it's hard to find any information.)

But for now, K's portray is one of the many issues.

The Dream Pack or the lack of it

The Dream Pack is the unofficial name for K's group, with whom he parties and races (the canon name is "Kavinsky's Pack of Dogs" which is ugh). They're unfortunately, a non-characters. It's bolt to even call them background characters. Their portray, or again, lack of it, leaves them as props, their only role is to be K's followers and to show K as a leader on a equal ground as Gansey. We're lead to believe, they are like Kavinsky, yet another raven boys, and to make are main characters so “not like the other raven boys”. Problem rises in connection to the previous point, out of four members, only one has an English surname.

Prokopenko is a Ukrainian surname and for his description, we get "ears like wingnuts", "crooked shoulders" and his voice as "milky with drugs". It's said he had "recently attained official crony status", and was noted being in close desecrate to K for a while. Later we discover Proko is a forgery, a dream creature like Matthew and Aurora. It's heavily implied the real Prokopenko is dead, but if K had something to do with it, is unknown. He is the only character to "chortle", which Margaret said she hates and also "fratty boys and the chortling men they turn into". From this we can deduce, that not only the Dream Pack and people at K's parties but all raven boys (with the exception of the main characters) were writen like this on purpose as the personification of everything M*ggie hates. We are also informed, he drives a Golf.

Skov, who according to a deleted scene, full name is Blake Skovron, is polish (or at least anglicized version of it). In said deleted scene he's described as "major asshole, minor bigot" (unfortunately I couldn't find it to confirm it). The only canon stuff about him is: he drives a RX-7 (Mazda RX-7).

Jiang is Chinese, making him one of three canon Asian characters we see in the series (not counting Henry's father, because he's just mentioned, same goes for the Vancouver crowd). Like Proko, his role is a little bigger. In the Raven King, after Ronan finally returns to school after a long time of skipping, he tells him: "Hey, man, I thought you'd died". Ronan doesn't respond, but tells the reader he doesn't want to see Jiang outside of his car, racing. The only other thing we know about him: he drives a Supra (Toyota Supra).

Swan is the only one with an English name, but all we know about him is: he drives Volkswagen Golf, one that matches Proko's.

(For future writers: what car a character drives, isn't a personality trait.)

With the already minimal diversity, this shows the non-Americans as the antagonists or at least "the worst". On the opposite side, we have our main characters. Richard Campbell Gansey III, who has the whitest and British name I ever saw; Adam Parrish, born and raised in Henrietta, Virginia; Ronan Lynch, son of a Irish immigrant, whose Irish identity starts and ends on tit-bits; Blue Sargent, who is half-tree and ambiguous, but was drawn as white by the author multiple times (Yes, I am aware of the Instagram post, but Margaret herself said, she isn't confirming anything that isn't already written in her books. She couldn't even confirm Adam's hair color and made a joke out of it.) The only exception is Noah Czerny, whose surname is Slavic (probably Czech), but this bares no effect on his character.

The Dream Pack are the whole communities babies, created by head-canons and fanons, their relations with Kavinsky and themselves are explored, who they are as people, their appearance, their interests... This is beautiful how many different versions and interpretations of non-existing characters is there. (I, myself also made a version for a rewrite, based partly on the fanon.)

But at the end of the day, the fans did the author's job of creating believe friend group and in the end, their only function was to show, Kavinsky is a king, just like Gansey.

#joseph kavinsky #the dream pack #anti maggie stiefvater #anti raven cycle #anti trc

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isitgintimeyet · 4 years ago

Text

Just a Friend

Hope you enjoy the next chapter of this story. Thanks to you all for reading this. You comments are lovely to read.

Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks for the beta

AO3

Chapter 5: From Facebook to Friends

When I was a little girl, Uncle Lamb would sometimes take me into university with him. I would creep into the lecture theatre and sit at the back watching him as he enthused about Phoenician trade routes, or long gone military strategies. I didn’t really understand what he was talking about, but I loved it anyway. The passion he had for his subject matter thrilled me.

And once the lecture was over, I would join him in his office and we would squeeze together in an old armchair, drinking hot, sweet tea while he tried to explain the principles of a three thousand year old civilisation in words a seven year old would understand.

The armchair is now in my office at the hospital. It looks more than a bit incongruous amongst the standard NHS furniture. The rich green velvet fabric has faded to a shabby eau de nil colour and years of shuffling bottoms have left a large depression in the seat cushion. But I won’t have it reupholstered. I love it as it is. It’s a great reminder of my wonderful uncle. I sit in it and somehow it comforts me, like a soothing hug.

**********************

I glance at the clock as I walk into my office, paper cup of hot, sweet tea in hand, and head straight for Lamb’s chair. Gratefully, I sink into its depths and take a tentative sip of the steaming liquid before closing my eyes for a moment. The surgery was long; much longer than anticipated—having taken all morning and most of the afternoon, in fact. It had also been far more complicated—my original plans for keyhole surgery had to be changed, but, eventually, we completed the operation successfully. I’m always proud of my theatre team, but never more so than in situations like this.

And now, after hours of concentration, I feel in need of some light relief. I can go home, have a wonderfully reviving shower and then what? I know that Dougal is taking Geillis out for a meal tonight, so she’s not available. Mary and Anna are both working nights this week, so no joy there. Other friends live too far away for an impromptu midweek activity. I could go to the gym. I should go to the gym. Or… more likely, I’ll go home, have cheese on toast, a glass of wine and watch ‘The Devil Wears Prada’ for the fifteenth time instead.

I reach for my phone to check for messages. A notification for a Facebook friend request appears on my screen. I very rarely get new friend requests—other than the odd random gentleman hoping, I presume, to make some sort of connection. I always delete immediately.

And, yes, the request is from a gentleman—one Jamie Fraser. The profile picture is definitely Samsonite Jamie, even wearing the Scotland rugby shirt I fingered whilst foraging through his suitcase. I click accept. Why not? I don’t think I have anything too embarrassing on my posts. In fact, I don’t use it very often at all.

Neither, it seems, does Mr. Fraser. His cover photo shows a very youthful bunch of Scottish rugby supporters and his recent timeline seems to comprise mostly of being tagged in photos by Laoghaire Mackenzie. Is it my imagination, or does he have a resigned look on his face on each of their ‘selfies’?

My tea is cool enough to drink now without scalding my tongue. I put my phone down and take a large gulp whilst considering tomorrow’s workload. My job is a series of highs and lows. Today, for example, started as routine, slumped to a worrying low, before peaking at a very relieved high. Tomorrow appears to be an easier day, certainly—a review of patients’ case notes in the morning followed by an outpatient clinic in the afternoon. All follow up patients, and all doing well as far as I know, so tomorrow is shaping up to be a very good day.

I open up my phone again. Facebook messenger is encouraging me to ‘say hi to your new Facebook friend.’ Without thinking, I send a little waving hand emoji to Samsonite Jamie.

I have no sooner put the phone down than it pings. Waving hand returned. I smile. What are we… thirteen years old? Next I’ll be asking him out for an Irn Bru and a bag of chips.

Ping again.

You owe me…

Shit! The stain on his t-shirt, no doubt. I watch the dots on the screen. Perhaps he’s calculating the cost of a dry cleaner, or a new t-shirt.

You promised me an ice cream.

You up for buying one for me tonight?

I hesitate for a moment. I hope Jamie doesn’t think I’m after him or anything like that. I mean, he’s not really my type. As I’ve said before, I’ve always been attracted to academic, cerebral kind of men like Uncle Lamb, rather than Viking marauders.

And I’ve never subscribed to the idea that men and women can’t be friends. One of my closest friends at university was a man—Joe Abernathy. If it wasn't for the fact that he is currently three thousand miles away, working in Boston, I would be arranging platonic ice cream outings with him.

So, deciding I have nothing to lose, I type my response.

If you can get to the kiosk by 6:30, it should still be open

A brief pause, then the response.

Great. See you there?

****************

Even at a distance, I recognise him sitting at a table next to the kiosk. No white t-shirt today, it looks like some sort of check lumberjack shirt. I breathe a sigh of relief. Not what I would call ‘first date’ clothing. Which is handy, seeing as I’m wearing ripped jeans and an oversized Aran jumper. I’m clean, presentable and fresh-smelling but definitely not dressed to impress.

He stands up when he sees me and greets me formally with a handshake. His hands are warm and dry—no nervous, sweaty palms here, which is another good sign. His shirt is blue, red and cream flannel and actually quite hideous.

“I hope this ice cream lives up tae ma expectations,” he says with the merest hint of challenge.

I crane my neck and look him straight in the eye. “No doubt at all. Cherry bakewell, is it? Double cone?”

“Aye. With a flake too. Compensation, ye ken.”

He stands aside to allow me to make the purchases. Before accepting the cone, he picks up half a dozen or so paper napkins and stuffs them in the pocket of his jeans.

“I’m prepared fer ye now. Do yer worst, Ms Beauchamp.”

I ignore his clear inference and follow him to a nearby bench.

“I can manage to eat and walk at the same time, you know,” I say in mock indignation.

“Hm,” he replies. “All the evidence sae far suggests the contrary. I need proof afore I believe it.”

There’s a moment of silence as we both focus on our ice creams. I lick neatly all the way around, trying to prevent any rogue drips trickling down the cone. Jamie pulls the flake from his cone and consumes it in two mouthfuls. He looks at me and laughs.

“Caught me. I’m a bit of a bugger fer chocolate,” he mumbles before swallowing.

“Right,” he continues, much more clearly now. “I suggest we get all the boring stuff out of the way. Ye ken, name, age, family, job, blah, blah blah. I’ll go first, if ye like.”

I nod my agreement.

“Sae, I’m James or Jamie Fraser. I’m thirty years old. Since our last conversation I am most definitely single. I live in Glasgow, obviously, but grew up on a farm near Inverness. My parents still run the farm. I have one sister, Jenny, who’s married tae Ian, my childhood friend. I have one nephew—a grand little lad known as Wee Jamie and a wee baby niece, Maggie . And I dinna think it’ll be long afore they’re joined by others. They all live here in Glasgow. My job, weel, I have a business—FraserFood—recipe boxes delivered tae yer door.”

“Oh, yes, I’ve heard of that. ‘From farm to fork.” That’s you, is it?”

He smiles proudly. “Aye, it’s me and ma family. Looks like ma marketing manager is doing a fine job, then.”

“Oh, forgot tae say, after the blah blah, ye have tae tell one confession. Only a wee one, mind.” He takes a large mouthful of his ice cream.

I purse my lips. “Really, and what if I’ve nothing to confess?”

Jamie snorts with laughter and does a funny sort of blink, screwing up his face and closing both eyes. Is he trying to wink? If so, he’s failing miserably. I try to look angelic and sin free. Judging by the look of scepticism on his face, It doesn’t seem to be working.

“Sae, my confession is, dah-dah-daaaah,” he does a fake fanfare, trying to build suspense. “I wanted tae be yer friend on Facebook because I wanted tae see if there were any photos of ye in Barcelona, with all yer...er… accessories.”

I feel myself redden. I’ve just remembered catching Geillis on Facebook the other day at work and I’m pretty sure I know what’s coming next.

“Verra interesting… in particular, the one with ye and six penis shot glasses. How d’ye manage tae get two of them in yer mouth at the same time?”

I inwardly curse Geillis and her desire to live her life through social media.

“Excuse me,” I reply somewhat primly. “I don’t think we’re at the Q and A stage yet.”

“So,” I continue in a lighter tone. “Me. Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp. I’m thirty two and I’m a paediatric orthopaedic surgeon, here at the children’s hospital. I love my job so much, I can’t begin to tell you. As of two weeks ago, I am thankfully single. I was born in Oxford and moved up here when I was twelve, when my Uncle Lamb became a professor at the university. He brought me up, you know. Raised me when my parents died in a car accident... I… er...I was four at the time.”

I can feel Jamie looking at me, but I can’t raise my eyes. Telling people about my parents never gets any easier, no matter how many times I say those words. I concentrate on picking bits of wafer off my cone and throwing them to the ducks loitering nearby, waiting for some sort of treat.

“So it always was just my uncle and me.” I carry on talking. “Then he died… seven...seven years ago…” I can hear my voice start to crack as I fight back tears. A hand creeps into my vision and I gratefully accept the proffered paper napkin and wipe my face.

“Och, lass.” He says softly.

I clear my throat. “I'm sorry. We were having a nice conversation and then there I go, getting all teary. It’s just, well, we were a team, Uncle Lamb and I… the two musketeers. He was my hero.”

Blowing my nose in a most unladylike way, I toss the napkin into the neighbouring bin.

“And that’s pretty much me. As for a confession, well… I suppose it’s kind of one.”

He raises one eyebrow quizzically, making a better job of that than the whole winking lark, I think.

"Ok, well, when I had your case, I tried to ring before I emailed you. I called the number in your case… twice. A woman answered and told me I had the wrong number—"

"Laoghaire."

"I know that now. But she obviously knew how to get onto your phone."

"Why did ye no' tell me?" He smiles as he says this. It's not a reprimand.

"I would have but you seemed to be coming to a conclusion anyway. No need to add more fuel to the fire."

"Happen ye're right."

He notices me shivering and gets to his feet. “Aye, there’s a bit of a chill. Fancy a wee walk tae warm up and we can carry on wi’ round two. It’s a quick fire round.”

I stand up and we move away from the pond. The ducks have already lost interest in us since they realise that we’ve nothing more to offer them. It’s pretty quiet in the park now, the cooler evening air seems to have kept people at home. The gravel crunching loudly under the soles of our shoes, I glance down and notice Jamie’s doing a sort of awkward stuttering movement with his feet. He’s clearly trying to match his stride pattern to mine. Which isn’t easy when his must be a good few inches longer than mine. Nice, considerate gesture, though.

“Sae, quick fire questions and answers. Ye can go first,” he says generously.

It only takes me a moment to think of a question that I have been wondering about ever since I explored the contents of his suitcase.

“What were you doing in Barcelona? I mean the contents of your case weren’t really fun-weekend-away stuff.”

“Nah, ye’re right. It wasna a holiday—flying visit only. I was there on business—talking tae a food wholesale company. Serrano ham, chorizo, saffron, that kind of thing,” he explains, a look of excitement on his face. “We’re expanding our range, starting with Spanish influenced recipes. A full three courses ready tae prepare, plus wine delivered straight tae yer door. Dinner party FraserFood style.”

He can’t stop smiling as he talks about these plans. And his hands move animatedly as he continues to elaborate on his new venture. His business is obviously his passion. Maybe that’s why he hasn’t got the desire for a relationship with a girlfriend—FraserFood seems to be his one love. No girl could compete.

He stops talking for a moment. “And here I am, boring ye.”

I shake my head. “Not at all, it’s really interesting.” I don’t have to lie. It’s the truth. My mouth is watering at his description of albondigas and flavoursome chicken and chorizo with cannellini beans. I’m ready to sign up for this delivery service any time.

“Sae, ma turn tae ask a question. Tell me, d’ye like this shirt?”

I try to stifle a laugh. The question is so unexpected and the shirt so awful. Trying to be diplomatic, I search for the right words, evading the actual question. “I’ve only seen you in white tops before, no colours.”

He sighs. “Ye’ve only seen me twice afore... anyway I dinna think ye need tae say any more. I ken ye’re being polite, but ye’re a terrible liar. I can tell by yer face ye dinna like this shirt. Laoghaire hated it, always made me change it. I did wonder if that was jes’ her being difficult. But apparently no’.”

“Sorry, I didn’t want to be rude.”

“Ye dinna need tae apologise, Claire. Being honest is a good thing, is it no’? And friends should always tell each other the truth. And that’s what I think we’re going tae be, Claire— friends. D’ye no’ agree?”

I crane my neck and look Jamie straight in the eye. “Yes, I do… friends.”

#outlander fanfiction #outlander fanfic #Just a Friend #Jamie Fraser #Claire Beauchamp #Chapter 5

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