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stardustandash · 1 day ago

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How many fics have you worked on since January?

Worked on about 55? I think? Its hard to calculate as I posted whumptober and febuwhump as individual stories but they exist in one doc each on my computer. I've worked on 6 fics that are either as of yet unposted, unprinted in a zine, or just lost unfinished limbo (I need to work on my merrin-focused post nur fic omg)

2. What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year?

I guess I've tried to play more with present vs past tense, and finishing multichapter fics before posting. Did try out a time loop for the first time during whumptober and had fun with that!

3. What piece of media inspired you the most? (This can be the fandom you wrote the most for, the one that spawned the most ideas, the one you thought about the most, etc.)

I feel like Star Wars is the pretty obvious answer, though right at the end of the year here comes Dragon Age with a steel chair after 4 years of not really being involved in the fandom

4. How many fandoms did you write for this year?

Seven, I think! Jedi Fallen Order & Survivor, The Bad Batch, Dragon Age Inquisition & Veilguard, FFXV, FFXVI, Horizon Zero Dawn & Forbidden West, and Twisted Wonderland

5. What ships captured your heart?

As a gen writer its rare for ships to catch me, but thank you Veilguard for giving me Rook x Harding, and M!Rook x Emmrich. (Not a fan of F!Rook x Emmrich sorry yall)

7. What characters captured your heart?

As always Cal remains number 1 in my heart. I love him so much, along with the whole Mantis crew <3 For new this year, I am bewitched body and soul by the Veilguard crew. The writers were cooking with all of them, they're all amazing!!

8. Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year?

...Does Veilguard count lol? For new fandoms I wrote one FFXVI fic early in the year.

I've got two fics for Rook x Harding and one wip for Rook x Emmrich as new ships!

9. What fic meant the most to you to write?

That's a hard question!! I think I poured a lot of my own personal emotional anguish into a lot of the fics I wrote this year. It's been a rough year for many reasons, and writing out all that angsty hurt/comfort helped a lot

10. What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?

I think finishing 'what makes a family' was honestly one of the best feelings ever! And the fact that I still get comments on it from time to time about people binge-reading it.

11. What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing?

I guess I could go with the above, but actually completing whumptober was pretty satisfying.

12. What fic was the most difficult to write?

'i do not love the bright sword for its sharpness' is at the top of this pile. i think about it constantly but actually writing it is proving super difficult, and it remains unfinished...

13. What fic was the easiest to write?

The one for the Pabu Days zine!! I wrote the first draft in just over an hour, and it was about 1k too many words lol

14. What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year?

of the ones written entirely in this year, 'take a breath before the plunge' wins with its 11k words. If we count just completed this year, 'what makes a family' wins at just shy of 70k

The shortest was one of the whumptober fics, 'where flesh and metal meet'

15. What were your go-to writing songs?

The Horizon games' soundtracks! Less of a song list, but there's too many to put in here.

What was the hardest fic to title?

...all of them. Titling things is the hardest part of writing fics

16. What's your favorite title of the year?

Love and Blood Both Run Red, or maybe Cold But For Your Company

17. Share your favorite opening line

In some way, Tech thinks, it is poetic to die for his family.

From here, at the bottom

18. Share your favorite ending line

He turned, and came face to face with a skull staring back at him. There were holes through the skull, and though everything had been decayed by time, Cal could still see that the skeleton wore Jedi robes.

From then there was nothing

19. Share your favorite piece of dialogue

ooh i don't know! If its humorous then assume its one of my favourites

20. Share your funniest line

see above

21. What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?

I think being able to slip back into old fandoms and characters for whumptober was a surprise. it didn't change the story but it was surprisingly quick to get back into things i hadn't touched in years

22. What writing programs did you use? Did you write by hand?

I use microsoft word for all my fics. which isn't great for longform fic and probably why i don't write too much of it

23. If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?

Again, actually managing to complete whumptober felt really good!! I've never managed to finish a writing challenge like that so it was a really proud moment

24. Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?

I don't think I've ever done anything?? Though I am thinking about starting a lil scrapbook of comments or smth like that

25. How did you recharge between fics?

what is this recharge you speak of? I am either possessed by ideas that demand attention or left in a drought of creativity

26. Did you create fanworks other than fic?

I do playlists for myself sometimes. I have ones for Cal, Crosshair, and Omega right now. I constantly wish i had the patience to improve my art skills to do fanart

27. How many events did you take part in? (bangs, exchanges, ship weeks, zines, prompt memes, they all count!)

4 if you count febuwhump and whumptober. I'm in a Bad Batch zine that's in preorders right now - Pabu Days, and participating in a fic/art exchange for new years for Twisted Wonderland

28. If this were an awards show, who would you thank?

firstly I'd like to thank my cat for being the one to hear me talk out plot points and details. I'd also like to thank @pennflinn and @breakfastteatime for being both supportive of all my j:fo fics as well as being inspirations themselves in that fandom! And the whole j:fo fandom at large for being awesome and supportive of each other's works. And I need to mention @fanfoolishness for joining me in not one, not two, but THREE! fandoms here!! As well, shoutout to @shadowcrow for yelling on my rook x harding fics! it's a small corner of the fandom but at least it's got you there!

29. What's left on your to-do list for 2024?

Finish this fic for the new years exchange, and get another chapter of Blood and Love Both Run Red up! Though it may only be one of those that happens...

30. What would you like to write next year?

I wanna finish bright sword and get that post nur Merrin fic postable! And since I'm currently consumed by Veilguard I wanna write more of that next year too!

A slightly revised version of last year's questions! Two ways to play: Reblog and have your followers send you numbers, or answer the whole list!

How many fics have you worked on since January?

What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year?

What piece of media inspired you the most? (This can be the fandom you wrote the most for, the one that spawned the most ideas, the one you thought about the most, etc.)

How many fandoms did you write for this year?

What ships captured your heart?

What characters captured your heart?

Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year?

What fic meant the most to you to write?

What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?

What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing?

What fic was the most difficult to write?

What fic was the easiest to write?

What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year?

What were your go-to writing songs?

What was the hardest fic to title?

What's your favorite title of the year?

Share your favorite opening line

Share your favorite ending line

Share your favorite piece of dialogue

Share your funniest line

What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?

What writing programs did you use? Did you write by hand?

If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?

Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?

How did you recharge between fics?

Did you create fanworks other than fic?

How many events did you take part in? (bangs, exchanges, ship weeks, zines, prompt memes, they all count!)

If this were an awards show, who would you thank?

What's left on your to-do list for 2024?

What would you like to write next year?

#fanfic #fanfiction #writing

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padfootastic · 11 hours ago

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i just remembered that canonically, sirius got to godrics hollow after hagrid.

which means that after he had his godson taken away from him (bc lbr that’s exactly what hagrid and dumbledore’s orders basically did) then he went into the house and saw james and lily’s dead bodies alone. no buffer in the form of harry crying out for his parents or even the godfatherly instinct of making sure his kid is alright.

he was there, with his brother and friend’s cooking body, all alone. stewing in grief and pain and rage and guilt. ALONE.

do we even know how long he was there? for all we know, he could’ve been catatonic right there besides james all day.

#sirius black #james potter #like. it hit me bc we usually do the whole ‘harry’s crying took him out of his shock’ scene #which i love ofc #and what i’ve always read #but in reality #sirius DIDNT have that #he was in his head the whole time #do u hear that sound #it’s my heart shattering in a million pieces #can u imagine????#sirius’ ENTIRE WORLD #LYING THERE #D E A D #and then imagine the onslaught of guilt #that it was HIS fault #is it any wonder he tracked down peter????#that he broke down in hysterical laughter when he was caught #like ‘OF COURSE i fucked this up as well i can’t do anything right’#he lost harry too u guys 😭😭😭#he wasn’t even reckless he was just so so grief stricken #that literally nothing mattered #god i have so many thoughts ab this rn #so many feels #once again i am unearthing more tragic reasons to cry ab sirius blck tonight #i have been in a Mood these days huh #pen’s notes

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packedlunchmeat · 1 day ago

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A healthcare worker’s take on Dungeon Meshi shipping discourse

Hiya y’all! As someone who has become a fan of Dungeon Meshi (honestly one of my favorite franchises at this moment) I’d just like to give more of a nuanced take on a shipping discourse I’ve seen. I’d like to clarify this with I am an NA. I’ve literally been recognized by the country I live in through the sunshine awards system on my contributions to my patients lives. All this to say, I know a bit about healthcare. And I also think that. Personally, people should be allowed to ship whatever they please. They shouldn’t be made to feel guilty for what they enjoy, especially if it isn’t hurting anyone.

I’d like to clarify what I am speaking on, this being the controversy surrounding the ships Mithrun and Kabru, vs Laios and Kabru. Both of which are valid ships in my opinion! I think both are great! And whichever you like you should feel comfortable and happy to indulge in it.

I work mostly with geriatric and bariatric patients, as I work on a cardiac unit. So, by proxy, I witness a lot of disabled people come through. This to say that these people HAVE partners. And their partners care for them. Such as feeding their partners if they need help eating, helping their partners feel safe if they have dementia, I have even seen someone clean their spouse after they had soiled themself. All of which are examples of love and affection, as partners. Not as a provider doing their job.

The argument i see many a time against the ship of Mithrun and Kabru, is that it is unethical. As Kabru would be a “provider” in this case, and Mithrun would be a “patient” to this I say, is Kabru being paid in this hypothetical? Is he following training he has been given? Is he following a code of ethics given to healthcare workers when he helps Mithrun with his disability? Disabled people deserve love. And they deserve a partner that cares for them. So the argument that the ship is gross is kind of… weird. Isn’t it? Again. Mithrun and Kabru as partners do not have to be your cup of tea, but that doesn’t mean that anyone who DOES ship them is gross or immoral. Helping your partner because they are disabled is an act of love, and completely different from a provider helping their patient.

Statistically, everyone will either die able bodied or live to become disabled. It happens to everyone. Disabilities are almost as much of a fact of life as breathing is. I am new to the Dungeon Meshi fandom, but the insinuation that someone able bodied cannot have a disabled partner is kind of horrible to actual able bodied/disabled partnerships? The dynamic is so common, and so to say that it is gross, almost implies that the dynamic in a day to day is gross.

This post isn’t meant to be inflammatory, there are so many dungeon meshi ships I love with all my heart. Some that are rare pairs, some that are common within the fandom. I just think that people should be more friendly with each other. Kabru has two hands guys it’s okay /j /lh. Just please be more friendly guys. Both ships are valid. But the way the fandom gets so angry over it makes me scared. And I imagine it makes other people who are new to the manga/anime a little scared too.

#this is meant to be friendly #please dont get mad at me lol #hot take?#labru #mithrun #kabru dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi #shipping discourse #kabumisu

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thelaree21 · 3 days ago

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Emergency: Help my family from the fierce war

Dear Humanity,

I am Lara, a girl from Gaza who, like any girl, dreams of a quiet life and a secure future. I was studying engineering in my third year at university. I dreamed of achieving something useful for my family and myself, hoping to be a light in our lives amidst all this darkness. Unfortunately, the very harsh conditions created this dream, and my future began to fade with every difficulty we faced.

I witnessed a tragedy that befell our lives in Gaza, where my family and I survived many previous wars. But today we are facing the most dangerous and fiercest battle in the current war. The urgent need for us is very great, as we have nothing left and are unable to secure our basic needs such as food, water and safe shelter.

This is our story - On October 7, our lives changed forever. My family and I were evacuated from northern Gaza to southern Gaza, hoping to return soon, but that did not happen. Everything changed when the occupation targeted our home. I emerged from the rubble; as if I was born again in a world full of disappointment and sadness. My body is exhausted, my soul is broken, but the hardest part is seeing my father injured as a result of our home being targeted and seeing my family in this state. I feel helpless, unable to provide the treatment he so desperately needs, and all I can do is persevere and be patient. Our home, which was once a bastion of hope, has been reduced to rubble, a stark reminder of our shattered dreams. .

Our home was the place where we found hope and safety and made precious memories. Losing it was like losing years of our lives, leaving us lost in the wreckage of our shattered existence. Our dreams are fading into oblivion in the maze of an unknown future.

The war has taken everything from us, it has taken our future, our memories, our childhood, our dreams, our home, and now we are homeless, without anything, scattered.

We have lost our sense of security, our peace of mind, and even the simplest necessities have become out of reach.

My story with my siblings is a united team of three, my eldest sister is a dentist, my next sister is a pharmacist and I am a software engineer....

Our parents are trying hard to find a way to save us from this hell, and they feel a heavy responsibility for every moment we spend under the shadows of fear and destruction. They dream of a safe place where they can build a better future for us, full of security and hope, because we deserve life with all its meanings of comfort and peace.

I was not used to asking for help, but today, I find myself reaching out to you with a heavy heart. We need your support, to continue this long road with a little hope.

This fundraising campaign may represent a light in the darkness, it is the only hope we hold on to strongly.

Your donation is not just a donation, it is an opportunity to rebuild lives and shine a better future. Be a part of our story of hope, we need your hand to start over.🥺⚘️

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #241 )✅️

Your donation is not just a donation, it is an opportunity to rebuild lives and shine a better future. Be a part of our story of hope, we need your hand to start over.🥺⚘️

#free gaza #please help #vetted #donations #free palestine #send help

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hexologyst · 2 hours ago

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Fully respect and understand the desire (and need, even!) for same-sex, platonic relationships in media, particularly between men.

However.

I've been thinking about this the last few days, and while I'm willing to admit I'm projecting quite a bit, I feel pretty confident I'm not the only queer disabled dude who feels this way.

As a teenager trying to figure my shit out, I feel like my only examples of M/M romance were hyper-focused on eroticism, often with the underlying implication being that gay men's relationships begin and end with sex and sexual desire, and the pursuit of other men is solely physical. It felt like we as viewers/readers were always utterly robbed of the romance: the tenderness, the care, the emotional connections that can only be forged through vulnerability. Fed stories that loosely imply that, sure, these men fuck, if you sickos are into that, but they don't love each other the way straight couples do.

And don't get me wrong: I am also of the "sicko," horny-on-main variety that loves to read fics of these two suckin' and fuckin' — but something that struck me so intensely about Jayce and Viktor was that the tenderness was so obviously there. We've all probably heard that famous writing advice, "if your characters have to kiss to show they're in love, they're not in love," and I feel that perfectly describes why the fan reaction to JayVik is so fuckin' visceral.

Their affection for each other is just so crystal clear. And I just feel like the showrunners fumbled an opportunity to showcase both a canonically lesbian and gay couple in the same show in a light that emphasized the love, depth, and passion in same-sex relationships, and they would've done so in a media landscape that is committed to half-hearted gestures of queer solidarity. Which, in my opinion, would've set them apart from all the watered down lip service so many shows give us.

Viktor's disability adds another layer that I could, frankly, write a fuckin' dissertation about. But the TL;DR is that I wish more creators in media would have the courage to let queer male relationships shine. To let men love each other in the daylight.

It's genuienly just so incredibly frustrating to continously have creators say things like "they're just two bros being dudes" or "there's not enough close male friendships in media" after they have so obviously created a beautiful queer relationship in their story.

It always feel like they call us dumb for noticing something that they obviously put there themselves.

Especially since the romantic tensions wouldn't be questioned at all if these characters were of the opposite gender.

Over the ten years that I've been posting fanart, I've had to deal with a lot of extremely homophobic comments on my harmless art because of these kinds of things, and I really wish that if a creator disagrees with a ship, that they would simply leave it up to interpretation or not comment at all. A ship won't stop if you shut it down, it will simply turn the fandom more hostile.

#arcane #jayvik #jayce x viktor #gay #gay men

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accio-victuuri · 20 hours ago

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「 I AM NOT HERE 」 clowning post part iv. aka the main candy compilation now that we have the whole song. here’s part one & two & three for reference which are very short ones.

before we dive into the cpns, i wanna congratulate yibo for another exceptional song! the lyrics are so good and his voice??? his voice??? you all know the part i’m talking about— it’s singer yibo!

let’s start with this ⬆️⬆️⬆️ i think the side by side photo is self explanatory. you have xz drawing the mountains and yibo integrating himself into it and became the mountain himself. i like this whole concept of him being in nature, being all around this person even if he is not there physically as himself. this is so special too considering we always clown about them loving camping & hiking — and other outdoorsy stuff. it may be that nature reminds yibo of those happy times they spend together exploring that environment.

now let’s move on to a very yizhan-y interpretation of the song…

1. some fans have pointed out that it’s 2000 days since the 12.28 tencent starlight awards where they were together. it was post-cql and them going into new roles — a start of well, more complicated times, but they had each other. i don’t really believe too much in these anniversary cpns but i will just leave this here.

2. comparing the water theme & mountains from xz’s photoshoot before that had us all going 🥵🥵🥵, it matches the imagery from yibo’s song.

3. the official description of the song provided by music platforms gave a solid perspective of what it is all about & it’s not far off what we think it is when the teaser/s came out.

“I" is rooted in this land, connected by veins, and time and space are close to each other. "I" live in symbiosis with the mountain, breathe with you, and experience the ups and downs of life. We go through the ups and downs with all things, so the green mountains are flat, and "I" is always present.

I am here, a dialogue with the world. I AM NOT HERE, but I will always be there. This is what "I’m here" is all about. So darling, DON'T BE CRYING, Because this song is a symphony between you and me.

Let me just sit and think about this. It’s such a beautiful meaning. Their love goes beyond the romantic and it’s real. You can see it all around you.

4. Time to dissect the first half of the lyrics 🎶

Many years later // Where will I turn back and look? // Holding flowers I've never seen before // Facing toward you

this reminds us of their first meeting in the field of flowers. out of all the things he can start with, why this? also the graphics for xz’s album is an eternal flower. if we look at it further, it’s more than the literal sense too. the flower he hasn’t seen is this new feeling and having this one person that is became so important to him. the first line is also telling, cause it’s like he is looking back at that moment, many years later, out of all his time, that time is what he wants to recall.

Waving my hand // Don't stay on the lonely island // I'll become a small boat to take you to find the oasis

we knew of this line already and it’s still so romantic. it’s this person who is alone but wyb wants to take him away and help him find that oasis. oftentimes, people tend to have that selfish type of love where they want the other to be isolated. but yibo is not like that. he wants to take the person outside, see the world and fins that happiness together. and him being a small boat is too cute! like he knows he is not that strong but he will do his best to make a difference in his (xz) life and give him freedom & happiness.

My heart enters the mountains / My body sinks into the sea / All to reunite with you and return

the integration of himself with nature. how he has to sink into the sea so he can reunite with that person.

5. second part of the lyrics 🙌🏼. just a disclaimer that he had someone working with him to create this song and the lyrics, but that doesn’t mean he had 0 input. we all know how yibo is at this point and something as personal as his year-end song definitely had his approval with every line.

Falling, scattering into dust

And then being reborn

Pointing at the fireworks

in the sky, never fading

Are you there?

You just need not cry

You just need to bloom

And I will never leave

Don't be crying x 3

You don't need to wait

I'm here

Don't be crying

i am weak for that first line, the thought of scattering into dust and being reborn. that’s some eternal love right there! we have reincarnation cpn at some point in the fandom so that feeds into that. the idea of yibo believing in that kind of love, never ending, not even in death makes me feel some type of way 🥹🥹🥹

next up is the imagery of fireworks. something he seems to be fond off per that video ybo shared before. also connect that to when xz was watching the fireworks during shooting wrap.

then it moves into him telling the person to not cry, you just need to bloom and he will never leave. I have explained the very real cpn about this whole crying thing before and it’s such a sweet sentiment! it’s a simple and honest promise, i will not make you cry. you just have to do what you want. yibo is there and will support xz as he succeeds (blooms).

and the last part is the nail in the coffin. you don’t need to wait, i’m here.

well who do we know at some point said that waiting is romantic?

hmmmmm. xiao zhan 🥰🥰🥰🥰

waiting. this word is very charming, it encourages people to expect. if you told me, someone is waiting for me, i would feel very moved. whether it’s my parents, or my lover, i feel that “waiting” is a very romantic word; to have something beautiful in the future waiting.

so this is yibo’s answer. you don’t have to. I’m here.

I hope everyone is having a fun weekend right now! listening to this new song, watching ETU and later follow yibo along at an event 🥂

-END

#yizhan #bjyx #there is no science here i’m just clowning like i always do

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verdantwyrm · 17 hours ago

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Anya, The Virgin Mary or the Vengeful Bitch

Or, shorthandedly, the Anyalysis.

I'm going to be occasionally stealing some points from my Curly thread over here, which you should absolutely also read. And also some segments from here, my small analysis of Jimmy and him being a monster vs choosing to be.

This analysis will be going over partially some of how she's treated in-game, but also how she's treated outside of the game as a representation of sexual assault and abuse victims, which is to either make her a mournful, bleeding heart virgin Mary, or a vengeful, final girl that's a violent, hysterical she-bitch. Which she is neither.

I think it's perfectly fine to orchestrate fictional characters killing their abusers, there's nothing inherently wrong with just that, it's more how people actually write it.

Just like any other trope, there are ways to go about it that are extremely harmful and ways that are generally inoffensive. As a victim myself, I personally see so many issues in wishing harm against your abuser, and there is nothing wrong with acting that out in characters you feel comfortable and relatable towards, but there are ways to do this that don't end up doing more harm than good— which is where most people fail. It's an objectively hard topic to address, because it requires nuance and understanding, possibly even lived experience to truly understand why someone would want this. Grieving, the absence that comes with being a victim, is not straightforward or black and white, it's an uncomfortable topic thats often on a spectrum of anger, grief or sadness that most people do not want to engage with because they have a very nearsighted opinion on how a victim should react– the perfect victim.

No one actually likes her as a character, they only like her for what she represents.

The Sexism of the Final Girl

I am sick and tired of people making up the realities in their heads where Anya overcomes Jimmy and kills him,

The trope of a "Final Girl" is not the feminist girl boss you want it to be and is incredibly misogynistic. The definition, as told by Wikipedia

"the final girl in many movies shares common characteristics: she is typically sexually unavailable or virginal, and avoids the vices of the victims like illegal drug use. She sometimes has a unisex name such as Avery, Chris, or Sidney."

There are feminist ideals and intentions behind it, but it is not inherently feminist as a concept and is often very misogynistic despite its intentions to display the woman of the group to be strong, better or uphold moral superiority for declining sex, drugs or any of the vices mentioned forehand. It is a sexist trope, and all it does is ridicule women for "falling" for said vices as if that inherently makes them inferior or deserving of murder or assault.

On the surface, the use of the final girl trope may seem like a progressive portrayal of feminist strength and ideology. It can be satisfying to see a strong, independent "girl boss" overcome an otherworldly predator or rapist. However, upon further examination, it is clear that this trope perpetuates prejudice and reinforces societal expectations for women. The final girl is typically portrayed as a straight, white, morally superior woman who abstains from "immoral" activities like drinking, drug usage and sex. She serves as a voice of reason and represents the ideal woman in our society.

Most importantly, she survives while those who deviate from societal norms face violent deaths. This trope is a subtle commentary on the expectations placed on women in our society - good girls will prevail while those who do not conform will suffer a violent and brutal death, usually at the hands of a man. Ultimately, it seeks to shame women for behaving in ways that are not considered "ladylike."

The film industry as a whole has a history of using females as vessels for pain and suffering. Hollywood loves to profit off of female suffering. These male directors may believe they are earning brownie points with audiences by having female survivors in their films, but in reality, they are simply using feminism as a disguise while indulging in the fetishization of female pain.

It is rather exhausting seeing who we are being reduced to one note Virgin Marys with bleeding hearts, scorned mothers or wounded victims of assault who will never recover, never love or never will have sex again. I do think Mouthwashing does an excellent job of telling the story of a rape victim, but how other people treat her beyond that, it's almost impossible to even have a character like Anya or even Angela from Silent Hill 2 without people stripping them and violating what their character is and instead of focusing on what they represent, a victim.

But back to Anya specifically, she does not even exert any interest, desire or want to murder or harm another person. People dehumanise her the same way Jimmy dehumanises her. They strip her of everything she could be, everything she wanted to be and make her out to be a perfect victim, a bleeding heart, a weak and pathetic woman.

How about Anya has a nice day, how about Anya smiles, and she's happy and safe. What about that? Huh? Or do you only like her when she's a victim. People care more about Anya being a victim they can save, a victim they can nurture and heal and rescue than anything else. They care more about her being weak, sad, frail and miserable. Always the mother, always the victim, always the virgin Mary and a sacrifice but never ever a woman and most definitely never a person.

It's even worse when I see people continuously writing and "re-imagining" Anya being Raped just so Curly, Daisuke, Swansea or even a self-insert reader situation to save her. I totally get that you want her to be happy, and to be rescued and for that to never happen but you severely miss the point of the story that there was no one there to save her. And constantly rewriting it to put a man in the favour of the situation comes off as very shallow and misogynistic the way you're all so ready to have someone rescue her like she's some distressed maiden in need of a big strong man, it also takes the point away from her entirely.

The horse that bites

Jimmy's constant dehumanisation of Anya affects how other people perceive her character as well, that she's weak, small or a crybaby in some sense because of how she responds to situations - emotionally, which is then amplified by Jimmy's pre-existing hatred and lack of respect for her.

Jimmy tears her down every chance he gets, makes her feel little and even compares her to Polle in his hallucinations. And Anya knows that he and Curly have a very lengthy history, so her caution and anxiety about even mentioning the incident, let alone saying the word “rape” is borderline impossible for her. It’s a manifestation, it’s a verbal acceptance and confession that it’s even happened. Something she has been trying to avoid coming to terms with.

And when she does eventually tell Swansea what happened, as much as you want to think she told him- she most likely told him to not do anything, to try and keep the peace for as long as possible.

Again, her vagueness is not her fault, nor is it her responsibility. It was Jimmy’s responsibility to not abuse and rape her.

It’s also very present that Jimmy is verbally abusive to her, putting her down at every opportunity by ignoring her very talented medical skills by saying Pony Express only hired her to cut corners in an attempt to reduce costs because she failed Medical School and that she’s not a “real nurse” because of that, and how he constantly questions her skills despite keeping Curly alive for such a long time in such a state.

After being insulted by him multiple times, she fawns to get him to actually do something beneficial because she knows he responds well to praise, and he complies, all while still insulting and belittling her for being "weak" and "sentimental"

Anya shows a clear fear of Jimmy and has consistent fawn responses around Jimmy. She is extremely careful not to make him upset and praises him to keep him amused and compliant to a degree.

Just like Anya says, our worst moments don't make us monsters. It's one thing to fuck up, and immediately suffer the consequences and acknowledge your mistakes— But it's another thing entirely to purposefully make it so you never have to deal with the repercussions and then make yourself out to be the victim. Jimmy takes every opportunity to blame everyone around him. All the time and Anya is no stranger to this.

Curly genuinely saw the good in Jimmy, in the same way, Anya sees the good in others and possibly even tried to see the good in Jimmy despite the pain as one of the key important things about how everything went about is that Anya never directly refers to her rapist as Jimmy, nor does she ever actually insult or talk badly about him, she only expresses her disinterest in talking to him because of his reluctance to cooperate with her. They both believe that our worst moments don't define us, and Curly had his own interpretation all of how we're defined by our past, but not slaves to it.

She is scared, she is terrified at this point and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that nor should we rush to change that. Her being scared is realistic, she is a scared lady in a very scary situation with an even scarier man who constantly switches between dissociation and lashing out depending on what's going on around him. And she is not that person to fight back, to be violent or to hurt him and that is perfectly fine. She doesn't need to be a girl boss feminist and fight back, she can just be a scared and quiet woman stuck in her own terror, and trying to infer that one Is the "better" option downplays victims who freeze in their own terror and makes them out to be weak or a hapless damsel because they're incapable of "standing up for themselves"

She has every single right to be absolutely terrified and that is in no way a bad thing. I actually really, really dislike the interpretation that Anya is angry, resentful or has any revenge towards Curly, or that she has to be this, hysterical mad woman sent out to kill or hurt Jimmy. I don't believe she's either of this. Anya deserves peace, and I think it's extremely important to understand just how similar she is to Curly. And I'm full of the belief that if Anya had actually done something to Jimmy (hurt him, kill him, whatever) she would be demonized and the misogyny she already faces in the fandom would be worse tenfold. Do not lie to yourself.

Not to even mention one of the many, many reasons as to why Anya OD'd in a room with a lock in the first place. It was to make sure Jimmy could never touch her again? Or do something awful to her body, even when it was lifeless and cold? It was to keep the gun safe, to protect Curly, to protect herself, to take control of the situation, to finally not have to worry about him ever touching her again. And Jimmy still violates it, even after she's dead.

He touches her, drags her body, and props her up in that chair. Even after death, she is never free from him. She thought she was going to finally be free of him, his rage, his desires, his touch, and she died thinking this, that he would never ever be touched or hurt by him ever again. She died thinking all was well, that it would all work out in the end, it had to. She died thinking Daisuke and Swansea would somehow make it out of there, tell her story, and make Jimmy face the consequences of his actions, it was the ultimate sacrifice, it was the greatest thing she could ever do.

Jimmy ruined her life, and he ruined her death, her sacrifice. To keep herself safe, to keep Curly safe, to keep the gun away from him, it all meant nothing.

Thinking outside the Ship

Anya is fun, she is enthusiastic, loves to make jokes, draw, play board games with Daisuke, read, and teases Swansea about his love for sweets which he doesn't even bother to object to and Swansea hands her a note so that she could give it to Curly during his psychological evaluation,, implying that they're casual enough for an exchange like that to occur, and even has what seems to be a budding relationship with Curly himself, taking to his comment about being fit to fly in her eyes like it's a common exchange of flirting between the both of them and she even teases him at the birthday party to "hop to it" in terms of the cake. She is at ease around him, her walls have dropped, and she feels safe to talk to him, and even attempts to try and get him to open up more to her.

She reads psychology books, she is extremely determined having applied to Medical school on total of eight different times and obviously has the skills and interest to keep doing it despite failing and only joined Pony Express so she could make money and keep trying to get into medical school.. She also has good taste in music, one that Swansea and Curly enjoy very much. She also seems to get along well with Daisuke and even allows her emotions to show with anger when they play games they seem to have much of the same sense of humour, judging by how Daisuke is genuinely worried about her when she locks herself in the Medical, they seem to have a positive relationship. We don't know much about her relationships with the others beyond what the wiki can provide.

She seems to have the best relationship with Curly, although. And after the crash, she can't bear to give Curly his pills due to him being in visible agony and her own trauma of forcing him to do something he very obviously doesn't want to endure, likely due to memories of her assault being triggered by both the act of forced insertion and the sounds produced by Curly during it.

Anya also spends most of her free time studying. She runs to clear her head. And when she really needs to destress, she binges on the worst reality television and fast food. She is a very free-spirited woman who is eternally doomed to be reduced to nothing but a hapless, miserable victim.

Final Comments and Thoughts

I don't have much to say here unlike my last analysis, but the situation on the Tulpar is not as straightforward as people would like, I understand it's extremely cathartic to think of a situation where Jimmy gets what he deserves but it isn't realistic, and thats what this game is trying to say. Abusive corporations, exhausting capitalism, this environment breeds Abusers like Jimmy and victims like Anya and Curly. There was nothing that could be done. Pony Express is what doomed them all, they're the catalyst.

Anya deserves to be written and viewed as more than just a representation, a victim or a vengeful hysterical bitch. She deserves to be happy!

Thank you for reaching the end of the thread, please don't be scared to share your thoughts in the tags or in my inbox, I'd love to hear them! good job! (っ˘з(˘⌣˘ ) ♡

#mouthwashing #mouthwashing anya #mouthwashing jimmy #mouthwashing curly #just talking #curly mouthwashing #mouthwashing daisuke #mouthwashing swansea #long post #analysis #character analysis #mw #mouthwashing meta

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stickthisbig · 1 day ago

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Well, I've seen one too many terrible takes so here I am

I've been writing fanfic for 20 years. There was no period where nobody fought. There was no period where fandom was not a popularity contest. People have always presumed to know what was best for fandom and tried to force it on other people. Someone is always at someone's throat. That is human nature.

The one thing that absolutely has changed fandom for the worse in the last five years is the idea that consumers and creators are different people.

Fandom is a potluck. You can have a plate for sure, but I cooked this for the other people who cooked. If you didn't bring anything, I hope you like it, but you're a guest here. Instead it's become so normal that we're cooking for the guests, who are just gonna bitch about how the ambrosia had nuts in it when the ingredients are written on the sign.

I'm sorry if you find it intimidating to comment, but my god, commenting is nothing next to writing. If your feelings are hurt that writers don't like one emoji comments, try pouring your heart out for 30k words and the only comment being an eggplant- and then someone telling you you're ungrateful for not wanting it!!

You're not required to pay your way with creation. I am not saying that. I am saying that readers who curate rec lists understand authors better than readers who don't. Podficcers certainly understand commenting. There's been stress between fanartists and fic writers since the dawn of time, but we mutually respect the craft. If you want to leave better comments or understand why authors get so mad, fucking make something and post it.

If you only read, I'm delighted you're here, but you're a guest. You know how many times I've gone after someone for leaving just an emoji or a backhanded compliment? Fucking none, because I have home training. I don't think it's productive to set rules for commenters, because authors don't even agree on that shit. Absent a consensus, it's incumbent upon me to stare at the notif, sigh, and archive it. But I absolutely am not entertaining that commenting is prohibitively hard, or that your feelings are more important than the author's. Sell that shit somewhere else.

#gonna make a mistake #gonna do it on purpose

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megalony · 1 day ago

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Horrors To Overcome

Okay, this is my first time writing for A Quiet Place Day One with Eric (Joseph Quinn). I hope you all will like this, I am in love with the Quiet Place series and I have another idea lined up for Eric if anyone would be interested.

Please let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22 @mrsyixingunicorn10 @op-81-lvr-reblogs @talicat713 @niamhmbt

Main Masterlist

Summary: When the world turns to chaos and silence overrides everything, (Y/n) bumps into a familiar face and they both try to stick together to survive.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stay quiet. Don't make a sound.

(Y/n) never really realised how hard it would be until now to stay quiet. She had no idea how many things could make a noise or how loud she could be when she thought she was being quiet.

Sometimes the sound of her breathing sounded horrendous. The sound of gravel crunching beneath her shoes was so quiet it was almost non-existent. Almost. But everything had a little sound to it, like a signature written across everything and it was frightening.

What kind of a world was this going to be for those of them that were left if they couldn't make any noise?

If they couldn't listen to the sound of each other's laughter, if they couldn't hear a loved one's voice or hear them murmur how much they loved one another. If they couldn't hear funny voices or hear the most beautiful singing or the sound of a piano or a soft guitar strumming in the background.

A world without noise was going to be so bleak. But it was a price people were willing to pay for survival. For what other choice did they have? Would it really be worth it for everyone to make a sound and have their lives taken away? Have the world change so much that no other life could survive out here?

A world without noise was a frightening prospect, but it was the only one that they had left.

Both (Y/n)'s arms coiled around her chest as she tried to walk down the street. She thought about taking her shoes off, but she wasn't wearing heels and they weren't clicking against the pavement. At least not yet. And if she had to start running, it was preferable to run in shoes rather than barefoot.

She wanted to tilt her head down and stare at her feet, but she had to keep looking. She had to keep moving and she had to make sure she didn't bump into anything or kick something or trip over.

The streets looked so different. So bare and broken and bewildered. Cars were turned upside down. Small fires were dotted around the road. Craters as big as sink holes filled the ground and buildings were partially collapsed. There were even blood splatters up the side of high rise buildings.

(Y/n) hadn't seen anyone in a while. Not since everyone tried to make their way to the river.

She wanted to go home. (Y/n) wanted to go home and see if there was anything left. She wanted to feel safe and secure and be somewhere familiar. Then she could decide whether she wanted to risk making the journey to the water and travelling to somewhere unknown, somewhere unfamiliar. Somewhere with complete strangers. She had to decide whether to try and find refuge somewhere nearby or whether to risk leaving forever and finding salvation with complete strangers.

It was unusual to have to count each and every step she took and watch where she placed her feet.

On a normal day, on a day before the world turned to chaos like this, (Y/n) wouldn't look where she walked. Sure, she would glance ahead, make sure she didn't barge into anyone or step in any muck or dirt on the street. But she would never purposely count each step, never tread carefully to ensure no amount of noise echoed from her steps.

She had never been so cautious before.

It didn't feel right.

Her arms stayed deadlocked around her middle, her own way of comforting herself and giving herself so she didn't start crying. So she didn't let out one whimper and alert the creatures that she was here. She was in distress, but she was here.

Each step (Y/n) took dodged broken glass, crumbled buildings, bricks and grit. The broken buildings made it hard to find her bearings and work out where she was. She would just have to keep walking and walking until she found something familiar. Until she got home. Then tomorrow would be a new day with new decisions and choices and horrors to overcome.

A burst of water to her right made her take body freeze on the spot. The gust of water was followed by a spluttering and a cough and such deep, ragged breaths that (Y/n) felt sure that this was it.

That person had alerted the creatures that they were here. One would be climbing the walls at any moment. They would come down, screeching and stabbing their pinchers into the ground. They would wreak havoc and attack anything they heard, anything in their path.

Tears welled up in (Y/n)'s eyes and she felt the desperate need to close her eyes and wait for the inevitable, but she couldn't. Something drew her eyes to her right, something made her look.

Perhaps it was curiosity. Perhaps it was desperation. Or maybe it was the simple fact that nothing had come to kill her yet which made her look.

As soon as she looked, it felt like a fire roared to life within (Y/n)'s chest and her heart lurched up into her throat.

She moved before she could think better of it. Her feet danced across the pavement in a tap dance to avoid bricks and crumbled pieces of road and tarmac to get towards the entrance to the subway.

(Y/n) had never seen the subway look so strange as it did with water flowing from every orifice right up to the top step. She wondered where all the water was coming from. Surely there weren't enough water pipes in the subway and beneath the roads to flood it like that. Well, there had to be, but it just didn't seem real.

She stopped right before the top step, afraid to step into the water and make a splash, make a sound, a trickle of water that would alert the creatures of their existence.

Her hands waved out in front of her as a look of desperation flooded her face and her knees bent so she was level with him.

Eric.

He looked shell-shocked. his chocolate brown suit was drenched and glued to his frame like it had become a second skin. He was pushing back against the fence, stood on the second step down so his lower legs were still submerged in water.

The look in his eyes was unreadable and it made (Y/n) wonder what horrors he had seen down there in the subway. What had he witnessed? How many deaths had he seen? What had he done to claw his way back up to air, to some moderate sense of safety?

When another spluttering breath left Eric's lips, (Y/n) moved her hands again to gain his attention. He hadn't seen her yet.

The moment Eric twisted his head to the right, he jerked and cowered down against the wall as if he thought (Y/n) was one of those creatures here to end his life. The look of horror in his eyes was frightening and heartbreaking and his parted lips continued to pant as his chest rose and fell to the point it looked like his chest was going to pop.

Eric's brows furrowed slightly when he looked at her. Oh. He knew her. They worked together; at least, (Y/n) worked at the law firm where Eric was studying. Or where he had been studying. He guessed neither of them would be working there anymore.

The way she pressed her finger to her lips had his eyes narrowing again and he heaved for breath. He watched with intent concentration as (Y/n) pointed at him before she smothered her finger against her lips so much it must have hurt. And he watched what she tried to mouth across to him.

'Be quiet.'

He found himself nodding and he pressed his palm against his mouth to try and ensure that his breaths didn't make a noise and he didn't start to wheeze. He couldn't make a sound. He gathered that.

Every person who he had seen in the subway who screamed, who lashed out or slipped or slammed their feet too harshly had attracted attention. Eric found out very quickly that if he didn't move, if he stayed silent and pretended to be a statue, the creatures would move right past him.

It didn't work out so well when the subway became flooded. Eric had screamed into the water, he has gasped and choked and flung himself about. He collided into people, he pushed bodies and bag and prams and all contents of things out of his way when the water became too high and he couldn't breathe.

He scrambled, kicked, fought and pushed until he got towards the stairs and managed to swim up here. He thought he was going to drown down there. Eric didn't know what was worse. Drowning in the subway or coming up for air and being attacked up here. Neither option felt welcoming.

Once (Y/n) looked around and ensured there were no creatures within sight, she held her hand out towards Eric.

Maybe, if it had been a total stranger that came out of the water like a beacon of hope, she would have ran. She might have hurried, left them to fend for themselves because that was survival. (Y/n) couldn't help everybody and at times like these, helping people could get her killed.

But that wasn't just anybody. That was Eric. That was one of the young ones at the law firm who was just learning the tricks of the trade. The one who made a point to learn everybody's name. The guy who brought (Y/n) coffee whenever she was at work on a morning shift. He was down to Earth, he was sweet and sensitive and kind.

(Y/n) couldn't just leave him. She wouldn't run away without knowing if Eric had any sense of what was happening. If he didn't know and made a noise, he would get himself killed. (Y/n) didn't want to witness that, she didn't want that to happen to him.

Surprise flooded Eric's system when he saw (Y/n)'s hand outstretched towards him.

He couldn't stop himself from shaking when he reached out and took her hand. Hers was warm compared to how his blood was freezing in his veins. He tried to be careful, taking one step at a time towards her until he was out of the water and out of danger of making a large splash and drawing attention to either of them.

He stood still, again taken by surprise when (Y/n)'s free hand held onto his shoulder and she seemed to take a moment to check him up and down. She was making sure he wasn't hurt.

When she mouthed 'okay?' to him, Eric nodded and took the time to look over her as well. She didn't look injured, she wasn't bleeding or limping or cradling any part of her that seemed to be hurt.

Eric had a great urge to shake the dripping water off his frame, but he knew that would cause too much sound. Any sort of sound would be too much. Instead, he tightened his hand around (Y/n)'s and pointed down the street. They needed to move. He didn't care where they went, as long as they got away from here.

He took slow steps alongside her, but he couldn't focus on looking ahead when all he could do was look down at the shell shocked girl beside him. There was a faraway look in (Y/n)'s eyes and with each step she took, she seemed to move closer and closer to his side until their arms were brushing alongside each other and her free hand moved to curl around his upper arm.

His body was soaked but the cold water was refreshing when (Y/n) felt like she was overheating from all the excersion from the day's events. Staying close beside Eric made (Y/n) feel some sense of security.

It reassured her that she wasn't alone. She may have started this terrible day alone and she may have started this defense by herself, but not anymore. At least, not for a while. Being with someone felt safer than being alone. She felt like she could keep walking without her thoughts becoming too much for her to handle.

Another set of eyes, another set of ears and another mind to help hide and figure out where to go and what to do, it was helpful. It was comforting.

Both of them seemed to shudder and press together when the rain started to fall.

At first, it was little droplets. Small splatters on the floor and it made them pause their treck along the road. Rain made a sound. It made a noise when it tapped against the roof of cars and when it splashed into puddles and when it started to hammer down and fall from the trees and tap on the windows, it could become a symphony.

The creatures must know. They must have known that the rain was making that noise, that it was nothing they could harm, nothing they could kill. Because none of them came; no creatures climbed the buildings or scoured the streets and aimed towards them.

One of the announcements said they don't like water, maybe that included the rain too.

When the rain started to become heavier and the droplets felt like pins scratching against their skin and sticking to their clothes, Eric pointed to the pavement. There was a building that was clearly under construction with scaffolding and wooden boards set up. That would provide them some shelter.

When they got under the scaffolding, they both paused. Their fingers were still woven together as they hunched over near the wall.

(Y/n) took a moment to listen to the rain. It was loud. It dripped from the scaffolding and splashed into puddles on the floor and it made background noise. It made a cover for them.

"Are you okay?" (Y/n)'s voice came out barely more than a whisper and as she spoke, she could feel a lump forming in her throat. Her eyes welled over and she looked around, making sure that the rain covered the quiet sound of her words.

She could see the panic written across Eric's face. She could see the contemplation in his eyes until he realised that the rain was their protection. It would provide a blanket for their words, as long as they kept their decibels low.

"I think so. Where are you going?" Eric took the time to look around and guess where they were.

They were in mid-town. Somewhere he didn't usually go. This was somewhere he went right beneath when he travelled to and from work each day on the subway. He didn't even make it to work this morning. He had barely been on the train for five minutes before it stopped.

An emergency announcement sounded, everyone was evacuated just as the chaos started. Eric didn't get off the platform before the creatures swarmed the subway and he ended up swimming out of there.

He didn't know what to do.

Would his home still be there waiting for him? What good would it do him to go home alone? He couldn't very well go to work, anyone there would be in hiding or trying to get out and get somewhere safe. He had no idea where to go. Did he hide in a shop? At least a shop would have food and drink and shelter.

"Home, for now at least." (Y/n) cast her eyes down to her feet before she looked back up into Eric's melting chocolate eyes. "I don't- I don't have any family here, home seems the best choice right now."

(Y/n) didn't want to think about her family. What was left of her family was broken, but they were all in different states. No one was here, no one was close by and the few friends she did have would either be dead or in hiding or making their way to the water. She was alone.

A sad sort of smile formed on Eric's lips as his shoulders sagged down and his hair began to curl as the water finally faded from his hair and trickled into his clothing.

"My family are in England. I was only here to study." Eric raised his hands at his sides like he wanted to laugh or make a joke but it only made him tear up and had a lump forming in his throat.

He was in New York to study. He was here to become a lawyer, his parents had pushed for this and he wanted to make them proud. How could he do that now? How proud were they going to be of a son who was crying and walking the streets aimlessly with no idea how to help himself?

Were they even alive? Was this chaos happening back home? Was this happening all around the world or was there one country, one town or one little village that didn't have these creatures?

(Y/n) didn't have a response to that. Just looking at the sadness and uncertainty in Eric's eyes was making her want to burst into sobs right here and now. They were both alone. They were both isolated from any family or friends and they both had no destination in mind or way they could get through this.

"Can… can I come with you?" There was an air of desperation in Eric's words that made (Y/n) want to scream because this shouldn't be happening. They shouldn't be this frightened, this traumatised and upset and afraid and isolated. None of this should be happening, but it was, and they could do very little about it.

Eric didn't want to ask, part of him really didn't because it felt strange. He felt bad for asking if he could tag along with her when the world was ending. Maybe she wanted to be alone. Maybe she thought he would be a hindrance. Maybe she thought he was weak and being silly for asking.

But when she reached out and took his hand again and stepped closer to him, Eric felt his heart doing summer saults in his chest. "Of course."

He got the sense that just maybe, (Y/n) didn't want to be alone either. Maybe if they had been strangers this would have been a little more unorthadox, maybe it would have been uneasy or uncomfortable. But they were friends, they were colleagues and they spoke almost every day at work. Eric felt he knew her enough to be comfortable enough to panic and cry and be himself around her. He hoped she felt the same.

With their hands entwined, they moved back onto the road and began to trudge through the rain.

They walked in tandem, their steps and their paces matching while their hands stayed deadlocked together and their arms were glued up side by side. (Y/n) took to leaning her cheek against Eric's arm, focusing on the sound of the rain and listening out for anything else that sounded unfamiliar.

The silence was comfortable between them. They seemed to cling to each other the further they walked. They rounded a corner onto a new street that finally looked familiar and (Y/n) began pointing to the street signs to show Eric which way to go.

(Y/n) could of cried when they were finally on her street again, although it didn't much look like her street. She barely recognised the road that had been covered in craters and pot holes. The corner shop looked like it had combusted. Everything looked like the blitz, but at least the two apartment buildings on each street corner were in place.

(Y/n) took a step forward but before she stepped onto the road, she paused short when she felt Eric's hand slip from hers.

Her head turned to look beside her but Eric was no longer right beside her, he was behind her.

Both his hands clamped down on her waist and he pulled her back towards him until his chest was glued down into her back. His face hovered dangerously close to her ear and (Y/n) couldn't be sure whether he wanted to whisper something to her or if he simply wanted to breathe close to her skin to calm himself down.

His fingers were puncturing into her hips and he was trembling behind her. Had he suddenly become afraid? Did he want to go somewhere else? Had something spooked him?

As if he could hear her thoughts, Eric managed to unclamp one hand from her hip so he could point across to the building across the road on their left.

A creature.

A cold shiver ran down (Y/n)'s spine and she found herself shrinking down and pushing back into Eric. Her hand reached behind her to grip his arm and her jaw dropped but no sound escaped her mouth. She wanted to cry. Tears were welling up in her eyes and her throat was turning dry and she felt the great need to cough and splutter through a howl.

Her eyes snapped closed when Eric's hand moved from pointing out the creature and his palm clamped across her mouth. The touch wasn't forceful or smothering, but it was enough to coax (Y/n) to stay quiet.

She tried to stay deathly still, clutching at Eric's arm while she felt his head turn just a little more until his lips were touching the side of her temple. The touch was delicate, like the first flakes of snow on the grass but (Y/n) could feel how badly his lips were trembling and how he was fighting back his own sobs.

He breathed shallow and quick against her temple, almost like he was kissing her skin and his fingers were puncturing into her hip leaving bruises in his wake.

Eric kept his eyes on the creature despite how badly he wanted to close them and disappear. He wanted to curl up and wish this whole scene away. But holding onto (Y/n) was doing something to keep him grounded. It was stopping him from screaming and getting them both killed here and now.

He watched the creature, the odd block of arms and legs and a strange shaped head that could splinter apart and crack open like a walnut shell. He watched it dig its pointed claws into the building across the street. He watched as it made a horrid echoeing noise that had (Y/n) quaking in his arms and made Eric double over her like a security blanket.

The creature was moving away. It was heading in the other direction. It continued down the street until it was far away from them and just out of sight.

Once it was gone, the pair of them stayed deathly still, making sure nothing else was lurking around the corner about to become a predator.

(Y/n) dared to open her eyes when she felt Eric press his lips harder against her temple and kiss her head. She could feel the relief pouring through him into her. She felt him stop shaking and finally breathe softly against her skin.

Her hand unlatched from his arm and she shakily pointed to her building. The rain continued to beat down against them and lightning struck the skies as their beacon, their safe haven, was finally within sight.

Eric's hand stayed on her hip as they crossed the road at such a slow pace it didn't feel like they were moving at all. But going any faster in this weather felt like tempting fate far too much.

The door was open. It felt like a sign, like something welcoming them inside, like the building was promising to protect them and keep them safe.

Once inside, Eric didn't bother to shut the door, it could stay wide open like that because it meant they could come and go without fear and if anyone else needed shelter, they could hurry inside.

(Y/n) turned her head and looked up at Eric, letting tears fall freely from her eyes while she pointed down to the stairs.

"Stay this side." Her voice was barely audible, the quietest whisper she could manage, but she had to tell him.

She walked these stairs each and every day, she knew which floorboards creaked and which steps would be loud and which would be quiet. Walking on the left side of the stairs and staying close to the bannister was the safest bet as the boards didn't creak as much over here.

As not to tempt fate, (Y/n) walked on her tiptoes and she was sure Eric looked down and copied her movements. He stayed on his toes, barely setting his feet down on the floor until it felt like he was gliding on air.

It took them five minutes to climb two flights of stairs but when (Y/n) approached her door, her expression turned grave and her stomach churned.

Her bag. Her keys. Her phone. Every possession she left the apartment with was somewhere in the streets, lost in the chaos. She didn't have a spare key outside, it was too dangerous when anyone could walk in the building and try and get into her apartment.

A clap of thunder outside made her jump and she stepped to one side while she looked up at Eric.

"No keys."

Eric nodded before it seemed to sink in what she had said and his lips rolled together tightly while he looked around. He had nothing but his foot to use to get them inside the apartment.

He stepped back and nudged (Y/n) to one side and raised one leg in the air. He knew he had to kick just below the lock to make sure it broke properly.

He watched (Y/n) wave her hand out in front of him before she pointed to the window and waited. As soon as a flash of lightning struck the sky, she pointed and Eric snapped his eyes closed.

He kicked the door just as thunder tore through the air and shuddered the foundations of the building.

The door was open.

When they headed inside, (Y/n) felt brave enough to carefully twist the door handle and close it. She prayed no creatures would be inside the building. She prayed they wouldn't be nearby and being here in her home with padded walls and other apartments enclosing them in would keep them safe. She prayed they could make a small amount of noise, a few hushed words and a few movements around the flat. Hopefully they would be safe, for a while at least.

Tears were drenching her face the moment she turned around to face Eric and she took her chance before her courage dissipated.

Her arms bound around his waist and she smothered her face in his chest, glueing herself up against him to try and seek whatever comfort she could and to hold him together. Because she could see Eric looked like a puzzle that was about to fall apart.

She felt his shoulders quake and the tiniest, smallest whimper left his lips before he smothered his face in her hair and tried to breathe in her scent. He kissed the top of her head with one arm bound around her waist and the other hand cupping the back of her neck.

They held one another close as if letting go or moving back would physically tear them apart limb from limb and kill them. Neither of them wanted to let go.

"It's okay." Eric's voice was a whisper on the wind, just a little bit louder than he had been when they had been out in the rain, but it was enough. It was enough to soothe one of the many broken nerves within (Y/n) and when she felt him start to sway them from side to side, she gripped him tighter.

For now at least, it was okay. They were okay.

***

Sleep had always been something Eric thought of as peaceful. It was an escape. A way to leave the real world behind when things got too heavy; a way to drift off and get lost in an alternate world. A way to recover and rest and feel a sense of bliss that you just couldn't find in the real world.

Eric didn't see sleep in the same way anymore. He couldn't. How could sleep be something peaceful when it came with consequences and threats?

If he went to sleep, he risked everything. He risked going to sleep alone and waking up alone. He risked something happening during the night and not knowing it. Going to sleep meant letting his guard down.

What if a creature passed the building in the dead of night and Eric made a sound by mistake? And what if that mistake led to the creatures harming (Y/n)?

Eric had never had to think about making noise in his sleep. When he slept alongside someone, the only thing he worried about was if he snored while he slept- something he was adamant he had never done. He didn't consider that the covers would rustle or that he could make noise by turning over and have the bed creak or the cushions move.

He never considered before that he could make a whimper or a groan in his sleep or that such a quiet noise could be the undoing of him. Of everything around him.

He was in a frightful battle of needing to sleep so he could function but being too afraid to sleep and risk it all.

This led to a few sacred hours of sleep where he seemed to wake at least twice every hour in a panic, trying to make sure he wouldn't make a noise or do anything to alert the creatures of their existence here.

His arm reached up to cross behind his head on the arm of the sofa and his tired, dreary eyes focused on the ceiling that had been his canvas for the last half an hour or so. He imagined different scenarios, different images forming in his mind and scenes acting out while he stared up into the abyss which was actually the ceiling.

There was so little to do when he had no energy to get up but too much paranoia to settle to sleep.

"Eric?" The whispering of his name caught Eric off guard and his head lifted from the cushion so he could peer over the back of the sofa. (Y/n)'s quiet murmur of "Can't sleep either?" made his lips quirk into a gentle smile as he nodded.

At least he wasn't the only one up in the dead of night, plagued by terror.

It strained his neck to lean up like he was, but he couldn't find the will to tear his eyes away from (Y/n). He watched her, enchanted, as she padded across the carpet until she was level with the arm of the sofa that his feet were dangling over.

The first night they spent in (Y/n)'s apartment, they had both slept in the living room. Too afraid to part from each other's company, too exhausted to try and get changed or get a drink or do anything other than sit together on the sofa and drift into exhaustion.

Last night (Y/n) had tried to sleep in her room, after trying and failing to persuade Eric that he could sleep in the bed too, that she trusted him. But he hadn't been able to sleep and he saw no point lying next to her and disturbing what little sleep (Y/n) managed to get.

But she didn't want to be alone anymore. Staring at the shadows until they resembled the creatures had become too much and (Y/n) instinctively felt that Eric was awake too. She wanted some company, she wanted to forget the chaos they had found themselves in and just try to relax, for a little while. That felt doable if she was with company. If she was with Eric.

Eric moved his arm from behind his head to scratch at his eyes and clear his vision a little more. He noticed the way (Y/n) was fidgeting from foot to foot with one arm bound around her waist and the other scratching the back of her neck in a nervous habit that he recognised as something he did too.

"Can I join you?"

She didn't have to ask. This was her home and if she didn't want to be alone, Eric was never going to refuse her company.

Before Eric had the chance to try and sit up, (Y/n) moved. She took him by surprise when she softly perched down beside his hip on the edge of the sofa and when she stretched out and laid down on the very edge beside him, Eric didn't know what to do.

He suddenly forgot how to breathe, how to focus, how to process his thoughts and keep himself in order. All he could manage to do was shift his wide eyes to stare down at her. His eyes looked so dilated and blown wide that there was barely one small ring of chocolate brown surrounding those black orbs and they watched as (Y/n) shifted around next to him.

She moved carefully, doing her best not to make a sound or cause the sofa to squeak or groan beneath them. Moving slow seemed to be a new reality for them and it was starting to become a reinforced habit.

(Y/n) wasn't quite sure whether to stay lying on her back beside Eric or whether to turn and face him. She settled on turning on her right side with one arm beneath her head and her left hand softly settling on Eric's shoulder.

Those dark eyes could get him anything he wanted, (Y/n) thought, as she stared up at him in the darkness and the new sense of normality which had become silence.

Her fingers danced across his shoulder and gave a light squeeze while she shifted between looking from his eyes down to his sharp jawline that was littered in stubble. Being here with Eric felt better than being in another room, uncertain and alone and almost always terrified.

(Y/n) couldn't stop herself from gliding her hand from Eric's shoulder up his neck towards his face. she kept her movements slow, giving him time to turn his head away if he didn't want the touch, but if anything, Eric seemed to lean closer like he had been yearning for her touch all his life.

Her thumb traced the corner of his jaw and worked along the edge of his cheekbone beneath his tired yet dilated eyes.

"You need some sleep." She murmured softly and with her thumb continuing to trace beneath his eyes, Eric couldn't help but close them.

He tilted his head down, pushing into her touch as a quiet, inaudible sigh escaped his blushing red lips. Again, Eric didn't quite know what to do when (Y/n) inched closer and pressed her face against the top of his chest. She didn't seem to care about the undone buttons on his shirt pressing into her cheek or the racing of his heart or the fact that he hadn't showered in almost three days.

The feeling of his pulse softly lulling beneath his skin was soothing and being this close made (Y/n) feel at ease. It seemed to do the same for Eric because he nudged his arm across until his hand laid on her hip and he angled his head down until his nose brushed against her hair.

The slight smell of smoke and damp didn't manage to mask the smell of (Y/n)'s shampoo, that faint hint of raspberry with a silky edge to her hair that made him feel like he was burrowing down into a pillow.

Eric didn't want to go to sleep. He didn't want to become vulnerable, especially now that (Y/n) was laid here in front of him and he felt the need to keep her safe. But somehow, with her chest merged up against his own and the feeling of her lips and nose pressing against his exposed chest, it was calming. Comforting. And Eric found his mind was already shutting down without his permission for some much needed sleep.

Being cooped up together on the sofa, such a small cramped space, when they weren't supposed to make any noise might not have been such a good idea at times.

Neither of them could turn much in any direction and (Y/n) found that when she tried to turn or twist around, she felt Eric's hand clamp down on her hip, even in his sleep. He was a light sleeper, worsened by the events of the last few days. Any movement or slight noise woke him and when (Y/n) tried to turn, she felt Eric hold her hip and help her turn without making any noise. It was sweet, even in a delerious sleeping state Eric was still worrying and trying to protect them both.

(Y/n) could feel the light seeping through from the open curtains, basking across her face making her feel a warm glow all over.

One hand moved to brush across her face, again slow and tender as not to make a sound and it was suddenly hard not to yawn or stretch or groan as she woke up. Things she had done before without thinking but now they had become things she had to scold herself not to do.

It took (Y/n) a moment longer than it should have for her to work out why she felt rather constrained and uneasy.

Eric.

She had been surprised how quickly he had fallen asleep last night and how easily she herself found it to switch off and calm down for the first time in days. The pair of them had moved around quite a lot despite the small space the sofa provided.

It seemed now that Eric was making the most of their limited space. His head was softly nestled into the crook of (Y/n)'s neck and each breath he took fanned against her throat and she could feel his nose nudging against her skin. He had his right arm slung around her waist like he was ensuring that neither of them moved or made a single sound in their sleep. And his leg was cast over her thigh with his knee safely nestled between her thighs.

Raising her hand, (Y/n) slowly began to card her fingers through Eric's crimped curls that were askew and as wild as if he had been in the jungle. Her cheek nestled against his hair and her fingers rhythmically tugged and scratched at his hair and scalp. The action earned a vibration from Eric's chest that shivered through into her body but he did well to muffle the sound against her throat where he placed a delicate kiss without thinking.

"Morning."

He pressed another kiss against the hollow expanse of her throat as if returning the response in a gesture and he felt the shiver that it ensued running through (Y/n)'s system.

Eric's arm tightened around her waist and he nestled down deeper against her chest, praying he wasn't laid too heavily on her because right now, there was no where else he would rather be. He was as comfy as he'd ever been and he was calm. He was finally calm and settled and not laid in terror for every waking moment.

Somehow, it was a silent agreement between them that they wouldn't be leaving one another anytime soon. Neither of them wanted to face this world alone. The universe had clearly thrown them together for a reason, and they weren't about to oppose fate.

Maybe the world was ending outside these walls. Maybe their futures wouldn't be long or filled with happiness and pleasure. But for now, within these walls, they were in their own sense of serenity together. Just the two of them.

#imagine #a quiet place day one #a quiet place day 1 #a quiet place eric #a quiet place part ii #a quiet place the road ahead #eric x reader #a quiet place imagine #a quiet place eric x reader #joseph quinn #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn x reader

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cherryswisherz · 2 days ago

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KARMIC BALANCE ✷ CHAPTER III

✷WARNINGS cursing, pining??? idk. mention of the nd game and h*annah h*dalgo

✷NIYAH SPEAKS aye we back! this one is just paiges pob

✦✦✦✦

SENIOR YEAR

We lose to Notre Dame every year.

Every. Fucking. Year.

And now that I’m home in Storrs, looking at everyone as they try to mask their disappointment, I feel the loss even more.

Which is why I’m walking around in the middle of night, the December air biting into my skin. I can’t stop thinking about everything that went wrong. Why everything went wrong.

I honestly have no fucking clue why, but I know what went wrong. Everyone does. Our defense was lousy, our shots were horrible, we got too tired. I could go on, but that won’t fix anything.

I find myself at Xavi and Janes house before I realize it. I tell myself that it’s because Yanna’s there, and not because of the wisdom that Xavia seems to have about every aspect of life.

When Xavia opens the door wearing a smile and a moo moo, I ignore that bubly feeling in my chest and ask to come in.

Once inside, I see her apartment is almost completely dark. The big lights are off, the living room being lit only by a candle and two lamps in opposite corners.

“So, what’s up P?” Xavi asks, running her hands down the silk of her moo moo. “It’s almost midnight and you’re usually dead to the world by 9.”

Knowing that Xavia knows my bedtime makes me smile for reasons I don’t want to admit.

When I first met her, Xavia was like a mystery. She was funny and smart and absolutely fucking beautiful. She’d apologized for making a false assumption about me. It was the first and only time anyone had ever done that and I never forgot it.

When she and Jane started coming around more, I forced myself to swallow the want I had to learn more about her, to learn from her because I knew that if I’d gotten to the root of who she was, I’d be even more enthralled than I already was at that point.

Eventually my heart stopped beating so fast around her. I’d stopped avoiding being within 3 feet of her and trained myself to treat her like I’d treated all my other friends.

Because that’s what she is. My friend.

It didn’t matter that her not worshipping ground I walked on excited me. It didn’t matter that almost every conversation we had alone rested in the back of my mind at all times.

Xavia is my friend and that’s all she’d ever be.

“Yeah I know. I just can’t get the ND game outta my head and I thought Yanna would be here to talk to.”

I’m lying and I know it. Whether Yanna was here or not, I would have found a way to talk to Xavi. I always did. Not because I wanted to be around her, but because she always had the answer to whatever problem that I have. Anyone would do the same if they’d stopped to pay attention when she was trying to get a word in.

“Oh, yeah, she’s not here.” Xavi pointed a thumb to the back of her house, where Her and Jane’d bedroom’s were. Her locs swayed with the turn of her head. “Her and Jane went to Urgent Care cause she hit her shoulder on the wall and-” She waves her hands anxiously, as if she doesn’t feel like explaining a complex situation. “It was a whole thing. I’m sure you’ll hear about it tomorrow.”

I know I should be worried about my teammate who can’t seem to stay healthy. And I am. I make a mental note to check in on Yanna at some point, but right now, I’m thinking of a way I can stay and talk to Xavi without making it a thing.

“Oh…” is what I came up with.

“You can talk to me?” Thank. God. “ If you want.”

Of course I fucking want. It’s all I’ve done for the past three years.

I want to be a better person.

I want to be 19 again and do everything differently.

I want to win the championship this year.

But all those wants are null and void for the biggest want of all.

I want to get drafted to the WNBA.

And I’ve made too many shitty decisions to get there to just throw it all away. So what if I’m miserable?

“Uh, yeah. That’s cool.” I play off my desperation and take a seat on her orange bean bag.

Xavi plops down on the couch in front of me, crossing her legs and folding her hands. All her attention is on me and a part of me feels like I don’t deserve the attention of this amazing woman. But a bigger part is screaming that this is how it should be.

Me, admiring every part of her, and her, willing and ready for anything I give her.

Of course, in this situation all she wants is to know what’s on my mind, but I would give her whatever else she could think up.

“So whatcha thinkin ‘bout?” She asks sweetly.

Her voice isn’t obnoxiously high. It’s kinda deep and mellow, just like she is.

“Um… I just can’t get over everything.” I shake my head and look at my hands. Hands that are supposed to get me everywhere I want in life. “Like, I get why we lost. What we did wrong on the basketball front. But we were off the other day. We’d run those plays over and over again in practice. Studied film. We should have been prepared, but we were just off. Like no matter how hard we tried, we just couldn’t get there.”

Xavia nods her head like she understands everything I’m saying.

“Like everything was against you guys?” she questions.

“No. I don’t think that anything was unfair. I think that our all just wasn’t enough.”

“Well, I know you can’t speak for anyone else, and I’d never ask you to. But why do you think you were off that night?”

She sounds like a therapist. The kind that isn’t just trying to fix you, but trying to understand you. The kind that hangs on to every word, but not to hold it against you.

“I don’t know. I just kept getting madder and madder and it threw me off. I did everything I was supposed to do.”

She looks confused now. “What do you mean ‘supposed to do’?”

“Like everything I thought was right. Everything I've always done.”

“Maybe that’s the issue.”

Now I’m confused.

“What?”

Following my routine has taken me and my team to the Final Four, and for Xavi to tell me it’s wrong stings a little.

“Maybe doing everything you’ve always done isn’t the answer. Paige, you’re a somewhat mature adult. Do you honestly think you’re right all the time?”

What does she mean ‘somewhat’ mature?

“...No?”

“Right.” Xavi sounds so sure of herself, leaning in and starting to talk with her hands like she does when she’s talking about her coursework or something equally as interesting to her. “It’s impossible to be right in every situation because every situation is different. When you throughout your daily life, do you treat every person the same? Do you go into every conversation with the same mindset, expecting the same outcome?”

I mean most people are the same, so what else am I supposed to do?

“Kinda, yeah.”

“Well that’s no bueno, babe.” She huffs out, pointing at me. Then, she entrances me again with her hands as she speaks. “ Every human is different. They have different pasts, and different views. Even if the difference between one person and another is miniscule, it’s there. And that difference is why it’s so important that we don’t generalize people.”

I know she’s stopped talking but I’m so caught up in her voice, and her hands and her face, and her to contribute to the conversation.

“Are you understanding?” She asks, seemingly genuinely concern with whether I’m comprehending what she’s telling me.

And the answer is no, I’m not understanding. Whether there’s a differenc eor not, each person want the same thing and should be dealt with the same, based on what they want.

This is the code fucking live by,a nd she’s sitting her debunking it in the most intellectual, attractive way possible.

“Not really.”

“Okay so like…” She sighs, pauses to think and then continues. “Do you remember when we first met? When I assumed you were a whore like alot of college athletes are?”

The reminder of our first interaction brings a calmness to me. I remember everything abou that night in her dorm. She wore sweats with no bra, and I’m pretty sure she was stoned.

“Yeah of course. You apologized to me that night and it kinda weirded me out.”

“Right.” Xavia snapped her fingers, bringing me out of my memory. “I apologized to you, because I generalized you and made an assumption based on one aspect of your identity. And I think it weirded you out because you’d generalized every person who’d made an assumption about you. I guess it’s rare that people apologize after being an asshole to you.”

It was rare. So rare that she’s the only person who’d ever done it.

“Okay…”

“So. Incourpurating that into basketball. Every team is different.”

I nod my head to let her know I was following. “Of course.”

“Okay and so every player on every team is different too.”

She lost me.

“No.” Now I’m the one leaning forward, talking with my hands. “They all move as a team. Yes, they have differences, but they’re all working together.”

“I see it differently.” She shrugs like she’s the master of basketball and done copious amounts of research on the psyche of an athlet. “I feel like every player on that court moves individually. Do they play for the same team, and have the same goal? Of course. But they’re all different. They all have different thoughts and concerns and ideas. You said that girl Hannah was the head of the snake, but I think you should see it differently.”

“How so?”

“Instead of thinking of a team as one snake, think of it like… Like cheetahs!”

“Cheetahs?”

“Cheetahs.” She finalizes. “Once the mama cheetah gives birth, she trains her cubs to survive in any situation. To adapt to any surroundings. She teaches her cubs how to kill different animals, to hide, all that. Eventually, the cubs form a sibling group and go out together to execute everything their mother has taught them. Are you getting the analogy?”

When she’s explaining it in laymans terms, of course I get it. She could probably explain thermodynamics to me and I’d understand it fully. Xavia just has a way of making everything in life seem so simple. It’s wonderful, really.

“Yeah. Like the coach is the mother, the players are the cubs.”

“Right. But each cub is different. There’s a more dominant one, there’s submissives and then theirs the runts. Each one has to edit their mothers lessons to make it useful to them individually. Does that make sense?”

I’ve decided that she’s blown my mind enough for tonight, once again by being right about everything. So I just chuckle and dismiss the topic.

“How do you come up with this shit, Xavi?”

She laughs like a seductress and leans back on the couch, “I dunno. I read alot.”

You read alot? Reading alot has given you the ability to break down a sport like you’ve played it your whole life?

“Well thank you for sharing your knowledge with my dumbass, oh wise one.”

I stand up from the beanbag and make my way to the door, ready to take my exit.

“I’m not wise, I just see from a different point of view than you. Sometimes you gotta get outta your head.”

“I guess.” I sigh, then open my arms. “Thanks, Xavi.”

She steps into me, her head just below my chest and wraps her arms around me. Her body is warm, but the silk she’s wearing cold. She doesn’t hug me tight or aggressively. Just stands there with her arms around my waist.

It feels terrifyingly comfortable.

“Anytime P.” she mutters, pulling away and ushering me out of her home.

The whole walk back, my mind is on her and everything she said.

How is it that this girl that is the exact opposite of everything I’m looking for, seems to be everything I need?

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nghtwngs · 3 days ago

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teach me the rest

description; unable to withhold your feelings any longer, you confess your more than friendly and familial affections for the second-born bridgerton.

genre; fluff, slight angst, friends to lovers, mutual pining, love confession

pairing; benedict bridgerton x fem!reader

word count; 0.8k

warnings; implied masturbation (non-explicit), slight corruption kink, suggestive themes, overly dramatic period drama love confession

a/n; please don’t come for me if there are inaccuracies—i have seen one (1) full episode of bridgerton (i know) but i have read like 50 benedict fics so there’s that? but as an sea, i WILL be imagining myself in sophie’s place when their season comes out so more content on the way in the near future?

“Benedict Bridgerton, if you do not wish to marry me right this second, I will wait until the next minute, day, week, month, season, year… I will wait for every desert to flood, for every ocean to lose colour. I will wait until the earth destroys itself again and again because there is no amount of time in which I could no longer love you. I beg of you, take me as I am yours, but do not take me if you are not mine. Spare me the embarrassment of my confessions.”

You feel as though you cannot breathe each time you avoid his gaze, but once yours return to his, you inhale more oxygen than you could ever dream of. Benedict looks just as breathless as you are, and you can only hope that that means he too feels what you so unceremoniously conveyed.

But unfortunately, you’ve turned him speechless, so you continue speaking in fear of his rejection of your affections—“I realize my father, although ever the artist and drinker of the elixir of life, would prefer Anthony’s hand over yours—you may recall my frankly naïve crush on your older brother—“

You both wince at that.

“—he is no longer the one I foolishly love, and my father would not argue against someone he treats as his own son, one whose passions for painting are one and the same. Please, Benedict, for the love of God, shut me up like you’ve always wanted. I fear I am incapable of not embarrassing myself.”

Benedict, on the other hand, believes he has just taken his first good breath since you first began your declarations. “Is that your wish, darling? To be shut up by me? Because I am afraid it is not mine. I would listen to you waxing poetic about me every second I continue to have ears. And I do believe I will not lose them anytime soon. Even if I lost one—hopefully not my left one, so I may continue to stand right by your side—I will hang onto your every word, as your pretty lips haunt my dreams, waking or sleeping. I did not before desire marriage because I had yet to understand what it does to souls—I thought Anthony would never marry, and yet, here we are. I worried for him after father died, but now, I know that love can melt even the coldest of hearts. Teach me, my heart, each and every way I can love you, for I am now nothing but your student.

“Teach me the art of love—“

In an odd turn of events, you initiate the kiss, the first since the many you shared before either of you quite knew the weight of them, or love. You had once seen Anthony in the Bridgertons’ backyard many, many years ago, lips locked with a girl whose identity you never found out. Thankfully, you think now, you did not stay for very long, or else you might’ve tried to sway young, sweet Benedict into an experiment beyond either of your comprehensions.

After your first kisses as children, he soon learned of the passions people could have for one another and of the cost it could have to your dignity. So, regretfully, dear Benedict would never again know the touch of your lips until now.

“Do not,” you begin breathlessly, achingly, “think for a moment, you have not learned every way in which to please me.”

“If I am out of line, I do sincerely apologize and will let you slap me if only you could forgive me—but I have not yet learned every way to please you. Should we marry, I will learn each sound you’re capable of making, every taste of you, every touch you will learn to take from me. I will offer all of life’s greatest pleasures and indulgences, and I know of no one in this universe more deserving of them.”

You believe that he is the only person who could make you feel better than you dare to yourself, alone in the silence of your bedchambers, masking your pleasure through a trained, quiet mouth.

“I have only known touch through the stories I indulge myself in…” Embarrassed, you continue, “And through my own hand.”

The sound your beloved makes should be quite shameful to the ears of any maiden like yourself, but you can’t but hope to hear it over and over.

“You know, then, only a fraction of what a person can feel.”

“Teach me the rest, so that I may be fulfilled?”

Benedict groans loudly, suppressing it with the palm of his hand. You both pray no one is awake at this hour. You’re oblivious to the double entendre you voiced in your yearning, which for some reason, grows his aching need for you.

He so earnestly murmurs your name. “I will marry you, only if you will marry me.”

“I believe that is how it works,” you tease him.

“But you had such little choice since we were children, so I want you to have this one.” He then admits lowly, “And I wish to hear it from you again.”

“I will marry you, Benedict.”

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton angst #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagine

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beansidhebumbling · 2 days ago

Text

The Art of War

The study was empty when Eris entered it.

He was quite sure of it.

Or had been until he heard a startled gasp when he slammed his hand against his desk.

He turned suddenly, catching his emerald brocade waistcoat on the corner of the bureau. Yet another casualty of this disastrous ball if the ripping he heard was anything to go by. There the intruder sat, across the firelit room in his favourite armchair, a vision of stunned elegance in white muslin.

Under his burning gaze, emotions burst like fireworks across her sharp little face- nervousness, irritation, anger, hope -before disappearing beneath a veil of polite, practiced concern.

'My Lord, I apologise for the intrusion.'

She murmured, head tilted down, voice trembling just so. She was a poised model of simpering female softness, slippered feet peeping out beneath the hem of her ivory dress, gloved hands clinging to a book, probably poetry.

And yet.. she made no move to stand, no rush to leave what was no doubt a compromising situation for any young debutante. Indeed Eris had a suspicion that the violent bang of his arrival was of little surprise at all. Only fools believed women incapable of deception, when indeed in polite society their very existence depended on their mastery of it.

Unfortunately for this actress he had no intention of being trapped by yet another conniving mama and his extinguished patience was not present to temper his tongue.

'What a skilled artist you are, Miss. Your concern for me is as artificial as the rouge on your pretty lips, yet most convincing. A lesser man may have been fooled. May I suggest you leave here and find such a man before I lose what is left of my good will.'

He snarled, feeling his face redden with frustration as he spoke until his complexion surely matched his hair.

He expected a few tears or a dramatic exit once he spoke.

He'd inspired both before.

Instead the creature had leaned back in the chair and raised her face towards him, so he got to observe her thin eyebrows climb higher and higher in disbelief and her plump bottom lip thin in fury as he raved.

There followed a few moments of painful silence where the only sounds that could be heard were the distant ballroom music and his own heavy breathing.

Then she rose from her seat, her movements liquid and graceful, a dancer he guessed, the book still in hand. Advancing on him she began to speak, voice low and steady, her grey eyes like knives pointed at him,

'I am skilled artist, my Lord, though not as you insinuate. And it is a damning indictment on men that I believe I could find lesser than what exists before me.'

He winced at her condemnation, an expert with blades of all kinds clearly. His chest tightened strangely and his hand clutched at it but he received no mercy from the descending angel.

'I have heard many tales of you, Lord Vanserra, but none had quite readied me for that introduction.'

His heart was ready to burst from his chest. Maybe because it was wrapped, from her first word, in a bow of barbed wire, that glistened gold and extended across the rapidly disappearing space between himself and the vengeful beauty. The clarity of this realization was as striking as his regret at his own insult towards her.

She continued, blessed as he was with the sweet timbre of her voice, damned as he was with its contents,

'I entered your study for a chance to meet you, my charming soulmate. So as to allow the bond to click for you in private, so you would not have to suffer publicly, as I did.'

Gods damn him.

She was breathtaking clothed in rage. It may be the only solace he could take from her anger, as based on his actions she would feel little else for him henceforth.

She reached him, those dainty feet now so close to his fine leather boots, her perfume of orange and vanilla filling his nose. He was sure he appeared to be a madman, clenched over his desk in pain as his heart was reforged as hers. His pale hand reached for her but she artfully dodged him, skirts whirling as she dropped the book on his desk and leaned down so her lips were by his ear.

'My name is Nesta Archeron, my Lord. And I will go now and seek one of those lesser men that you speak of. Do come join me when you are less indisposed.'

Nesta, he tried the name out, finding it to be most delightful even as a searing jealousy at the thought of her with another man threatened to turn his stomach.

By the time he could choke out her name, she was by the door.

'Nesta. Please.'

Funny how words that came so easy to him mere minutes ago had vanished somewhere between his head and his heart.

'Nesta.'

She did not turn but he saw her posture tense slightly as she pulled open the door and disappeared back to the dance.

He was not sure how long it took him to recover. Only that when his vision finally cleared the moon was high in the sky and the crunching of carriages and laughter could be heard through the bay window.

Nesta.

She was his first thought, as she would be for the rest of his life.

How Lucien would laugh at him. Only Eris Vanserra could offend his mate so thoroughly before an introduction. When he tentatively probed at the bond, that gold ribbon he felt bound to his heart, it echoed into the darkness with no response.

She had shut him off.

No great surprise but disappointment bit at his gut like a viper.

Pressing his forehead against the cool mahogany he sighed in despair. He allowed himself a moment more to wallow in his own stupidity before standing and fixing his jacket, buttoning it so as to hide his torn waistcoat.

It would do no good to admit defeat at this early stage. Eris had been fighting for his place since the day he was born. If it were to be no different with his mate, he could rest assured that none were more practiced than he.

His eyes turned to the thin book she had left on the desk, the smell of oranges still clinging to it. He turned his first gift from her, for it was one in his mind at least, over to read the title.

The Art of War.

For the first time that night, a smile tugged at his mouth.

How apt.

And though sleep beckoned Eris relit the candles in the study for it was time to prepare for the fight of his life.

#Neris #nesta archeron #nesta x eris #eris vanserra #Eris is an idiot #I'm sick so it's more regency core stuff #Bridgerton eat your heart out #Acotar

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frannyzooey · 2 days ago

Text

It has been a long time since I've been as invested in a story as I was in "Nights Like This One".

It's had me by the throat for days: the kind of obsession that has your phone falling into your face because you keep nodding off while trying to read just one paragraph more, the kind of "read with every spare minute of your day" in between zoom calls and at red stop lights, the kind of story that has you thinking about it when you're supposed to be focusing on everything else.

The pre and post outbreak plot of this story is ingenious -- it scratched an itch I never knew I had. I was so lulled into a sense of safety and calm during the first part - it was so romantic, so tender, so intimate and warm. Their relationship progression was beautiful and realistic, her self esteem progression found through his love had me wanting to weep, and there were so many parts I found myself rereading because they were so impactful: when Sarah asks if she can call her "mom", the mention of "daddy" for the first time (jfc I wanted to die with arousal), the complex feelings she had about her family and how he soothed every insecurity away with his attention and care. The descriptions of her mother's house particularly were so gorgeous and weighted with emotion.

The dates on the top of the chapters....when I saw Outbreak Day, my heart plummeted to my stomach. And when the phone call cut out on him saying "I love you", I genuinely cried.

The fact that you spent so much time and care building up the first half of this story and the slow, easy way you walked us through their love made the transition to the second half of this nothing short of masterful -- a legit fucking masterclass in writing, I'm not even joking.

The way you described Joel's self hatred was phenomenal, especially for not showing us exactly what happened during those 15 years. When he kept pushing her away, my heart was breaking -- and when he said "a summer fling", I legit cried. My pillow was w e t with tears as my own heart broke...but then you mended it better with the most amazingly beautiful paragraphs like this:

"He looked at her, and he loved her, loved her so much it burned, like something eternal, something that no amount of time, nor distance, nor the end of the world as they had known it, could kill off. He'd loved her, perhaps, since that first moment he saw her, looking hollow and bereft on the threshold of her mother's house. He loved her in every death, every birth, every reiteration of himself."

It would take me days to compile a list of every passage I loved, and even longer to tell you just how much I loved them and why. My heart is bursting at the thought of their love, so much it hurts.

I am going to be thinking about this for a very long time, and I am genuinely, truly, gobsmacked at how brilliant your writing is.

You are so fucking talented it's insane.

I could never even begin to thank you enough for sharing this with us, and consider myself the luckiest to have read it.

Thank you ❤️

(my masterlist got deleted somehow idk?)

hi, hello - my name is sara and i write depraved things about pedro pascal characters. i'm not super into writing one-shots (love reading them tho) so all my stories are in series format. my DMs are always open, i love talking fics, pedro, tlou, narcos, and anything at all regarding men old enough to be my father.

happy reading, i appreciate you all tremendously <3

To the Light [ joel miller ]

"He was such a greedy fuck, when had that happened? What was it about her that had turned him into this… desperate, frenzied, fucking insatiable man that had stooped to the point of planning his entire day around getting a glimpse of her. It wasn’t just one thing, he knew that, rather it was an amalgamation of everything about her, everything he could see, everything he knew, and the large cavern of things he didn’t know, but wanted to so badly it ate away at him, like a virus, like fucking cordyceps, surging through his body and altering his brain chemistry, his ambitions and intent, so that it was just her, his sole focus was just her."

summary: Joel finds a young woman being held hostage by a group of men while he's out on patrol one day. He brings her back to Jackson, where she's given the opportunity to have something resembling a real life, for the first time. The two of them orbit around each other, destined to crash, if both of their reservations don't get in the way.

pairing: joel miller x ofc rating: 18+ mdni word count: 96.8k (completed)

see tags and warnings on ao3

____________

Joel finds the love of his life lost in the woods.

Read on AO3

Fic playlist on Spotify

Read insatiable (a To the Light one-shot) here.

Read hearth (a To the Light one-shot) here.

Dawn [ javier peña ]

"It had been wrong, back then, his feelings for her. He'd known that and that's why he'd never let anything happen between the two of them. But he'd always been weak. That first time he'd seen her after Richie had gone off to fight a war just as brutal and useless and the one he'd been fighting out in Colombia, that first time he'd really seen her— just a glimpse as she left the market, bag hoisted up on her hip, long, wavy hair bouncing behind her, shapely legs visible in that little yellow sundress that hugged her waist just right— he'd been a fucking goner."

summary: Javier Peña returns to his hometown after leaving the DEA. He doesn't want the undeserving praise everyone is trying to push on him, he doesn't really want anything at all, beyond a quiet life on his father's ranch, such a stark contrast to the atrocities he'd witnessed over the ten years away. But there's one familiar face that he can't seem to shake no matter how hard he tries.

pairing: javier peña x ofc rating: 18+ mdni word count: 80.8k (completed) a.n. first chapter of my new Javi fic is up! each chapter will be named after a Lana Del Rey song with a corresponding lyric (idk Javi is Lana coded to me). I hope you enjoy <3

see tags and warnings on ao3

____________

Javier Peña falls for his best friend's little sister.

Read on AO3

Nights Like This One [ joel miller ]

"Joel couldn't resist the tug any longer, finally succumbing to the dull ache at the base of his spine as he turned around and locked eyes with her— bright fucking blue, twinkling animatedly when they met his. Most of the time her eyes looked hollow, devastatingly so, but he'd noticed that when they got into these bickering matches her eyes lightened, and so then how was he ever expected to stop?"

summary: Joel Miller is hired by an elderly woman to fix up her home. However, in the middle of the renovations, she dies and her daughter, Lily, moves from California to Austin to live in her mother's home. Joel continues to work on the house despite the two of them constantly butting heads. Tensions rise and the two are destined to crash whether they like it or not.

(Initially takes place pre-outbreak, story spans through outbreak day, all the way to 2023).

pairing: joel miller x ofc rating: 18+ mdni word count: 142.6k (completed) a.n. hi my friends! a few things: i did change sarah's age because i wanted to, i have creative liberty this is MY FUCKIN STORY!! lol. also i know nothing about construction, so i apologize, watch me make shit up with only google as my guide. please don't hate or be mean to my OC, she's going through some shit and the roles will be reversed later on after outbreak day, so let her be the emotionally unavailable, cold one for now. chapter length will be much shorter than most of my other fics solely because this has so many chapters. i'm writing it more in novel format than fic format, so forgive me. blame my useless, $120k creative writing degree. i hope you enjoy this. i'm having a lot of fun writing it.

see tags and warnings on ao3

____________

Joel Miller finds the love of his life right before the world ends.

Read on AO3

Fic playlist on Spotify

The Human Condition [ therapist!joel miller au ]

"Joel passed his palm over his mouth, his eyes drifting over to the clock on his office wall for perhaps the fifth time in the last thirty minutes. He dreaded his one o'clock appointment, but not for the reasons that he should. He dreaded it because he looked forward to it far more than was appropriate, for reasons that would surely get him fired."

summary: Violet Wood is lost, thinks perhaps she's been lost since the day she was born.

Joel Miller is a psychiatrist who has experienced a tremendous loss of his own.

Neither of them are expecting each other.

pairing: joel miller x ofc rating: 18+ mdni word count: 26.4+ (ongoing series - 5/10 chapters up) warnings: extreme trigger warnings for suicidal behavior/attempts, mental health discussion, EDs, self-harm, depression, anxiety a.n. i have been thinking about this forever, and i'm really excited to start sharing, albeit slowly. hope you all enjoy <3

see more tags and warnings on ao3

____________

The Joel Miller Therapist AU

Read on AO3

Spotify Playlist Here

Sanctuary [ javier peña ]

"She glanced over at him, her lips hinting at a smile as his pretty brown eyes locked on hers. She wanted him to tell her something now, not that she had taken him here as a greedy means of give and take, even though that’s all their relationship was. Give and take. Just sex. If she couldn’t know his last name or why he had scars all over his chest, then she wanted to know what he thought was beautiful, what he thought was ugly, what existed in both spaces for him."

summary: Takes place after the third season-- Javier moves to San Francisco to escape what he'd witnessed in Colombia over the past several years. The DEA is desperate to get him down to Mexico to help take down the Guadalajara Cartel, but Javier isn't so sure he wants to continue down that path. His decision only becomes increasingly more difficult when he meets a bartender named Emma, whose commitment issues seem to mirror his own.

pairing: javier peña x ofc rating: 18+ mdni word count: 93k (complete)

see tags and warnings on ao3

____________

Javier Peña meets his match in the form of a little bartender in San Francisco.

Read on AO3

#I am --#this is incredible #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller/you #joel miller/reader

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azelsdoormat · 1 day ago

Text

Azel Radwan Main Story

► Chapter 1

This translation is fanmade and strictly for entertainment purposes only. All media and original content belong to Cybird. Do not use, claim as your own, repost or reupload onto other platforms, reblogs are welcome.

I still don’t know what love is.

But I want to someday fall in love and understand what it is.

A passionate love like a rose set ablaze, and a fierce love that stays on for eternity like a woven tale.

???: I see, I see…

???: How utterly laughable.

(... Who is that?)

The usual dream I had every night changed the night before I set out on my trip to a foreign country.

It was set in a rose garden where the roses were still tightly closed buds. The space felt undeveloped and incomplete.

There stood an unfamiliar visitor, reading an unfinished tale from a book placed on an oak table.

His appearance was otherworldly, unlike that of any ordinary person.

His hair shimmered under the light of the massive moon hanging from the sky, and his eyes seemed to contain a starry sky within.

That divine, beautiful being who seemed to blend well with the dream’s space gave me a mocking grin as I approached.

Emma: What’s… laughable?

???: I have some unfortunate news for you, who yearns for love and thirsts for knowledge of what it is.

???: Love is not the grand blessing it is often proclaimed to be.

???: Sometimes, it would serve you well to remain ignorant and pure for your entire life. You would find far greater happiness that way.

I didn't know what he read from that unfinished tale.

But this “something”, who clearly wasn't human, directly and utterly rejected what laid at the very core of my heart.

Emma: And how can you be so sure of that?

???: Because I am a god.

(... God?)

???: I have witnessed many examples of “love”. Not in fiction… but rather the raw, unvarnished love that exists in.

???: Far too often, people use “love” as a means to justify their otherwise unjustifiable actions.

???: It is truly tragic to see people driven mad by love.

???: Even the most rational people become unable to live without it.

???: Like a curse.

Emma: …

???: Judging from this dreamscape shrouded in thorns, you must be a lady from Rhodolite.

???: Rhodolite had such a tale too, did it not? About a king who turned into a beast after losing his beloved.

Emma: … While the story of the late Belle and the king may have been a tragedy, that doesn't mean all love must end the same way.

???: Fair enough. However, not all love will end as a comedy either.

???: Why do you yearn for love?

Words caught in my throat upon hearing the god’s question.

There was no special reason for my yearning.

It was nothing more than mere admiration, I had never deeply thought about what love truly meant.

For the first time, I realised that my yearning was but an empty shell.

???: At the very least, love is something I would very much rather do without.

???: — For I am a god incapable of loving people.

…

(……ん……)

(... Mm…)

Awaken by gentle sunlight streaming through the window, I opened my eyes to see the familiar ceiling of my room in town.

The unbloomed roses and the god who denied love both vanished as though they were nothing more than an illusion.

As I woke up, memories of the dream began crumbling away and were gradually replaced by reality.

But a fragment of that dream lingered in my heart, refusing to disappear.

(“Love is a curse”... huh.)

???: Emma, you up?

A knock on my door banished the remaining drowsiness from my mind.

(This voice… Rio?)

Emma: Sorry, just a minute!

???: Ah, no worries. I’m a gentleman, I’ll wait for as long as you need.

(... I think I just heard a voice that wasn't Rio’s…)

Feeling slightly uneasy, I hurriedly got dressed, washed my face, and tidied myself up before opening the door.

…

Standing at my front door was my friend, who left his position as a butler to return to town with me, greeting me with his ever so radiant smile.

Rio: Good morning! You’re absolutely adorable today, as always!

Emma: Yeah, yeah, thanks as usual.

Emma: … What brings you here this early in the morning?

Rio: I came to visit because I just had to see your face.

Rio: And I bought bread. Want to enjoy it together?

Emma: Thanks, I’d love to. Mmm, smells good…

Rio: It’s from your favourite bakery. They launched a new “fortune bread” today.

Emma: Fortune bread? That’s interesting!

Clavis: Wait, wait, Emma. We have some more important matters to focus on than bread right now, don't we?

A man forced himself between us and snatched the bag of bread.

(So I wasn't imagining things when I thought I heard another voice.)

I stopped avoiding reality as a means of self-defence and turned to face the country’s most notorious troublemaker— a certain prince with a shady smile.

Emma: It’s been a while, Clavis.

Clavis: You could've jumped straight into my arms right off the bat, you know?

Emma: Thank you for kind consideration. Why are you here?

Clavis: Hmm, what do you think?

???: Enough with the theatrics and just tell her already.

(Huh…?)

My eyes widened when I saw a tall figure sitting on a wooden crate some distance away.

Emma: Luke’s here too!?

Luke: Oops. My bad, I invited myself into the conversation too early.

Rio: I coincidentally ran into Clavis and Luke earlier on.

Rio: Though, they didn't tell me what they’re here for…

(I was just thinking it was rare for Rio to come visit me so early in the morning… maybe he’s worried about me.)

Luke stood up from the wooden crate and raised the paper bag he had in his hand.

Luke: Mind if we join you for breakfast?

…

My modest home where I, a commoner, lived was now filled with two princes and my former butler friend…

Our surroundings were both physically and emotionally stuffy.

Clavis: Emma, you’re heading to Tanzanite soon, right?

Rio: Ugh…

The freshly baked bread, along with the sweets Luke brought, bounced slightly when Rio hit his head against a corner of the table.

Clavis: What's the matter?

Rio: … I lose control of myself whenever I hear about that.

Rio: The thought of not being able to see my angel, my goddess, my beautiful fairy Emma…

Luke: You’re such a drama queen.

(When I first told Rio about my trip, he was completely broken. I guess this counts as an improvement.)

[ Flashback ]

Rio: — Emma’s going to Tanzanite…

Emma: Rio, are you okay!? You hit your head on the bookshelf really hard…

Rio: I’m okay… but… why…

Emma: I’ve heard many stories about foreign countries from the Owner, but I’m most interested in the god who can perform infallible divinations.

Emma: If such a god really exists, I’d like to meet them even just once.

Emma: Besides, Tanzanite’s a popular tourist destination.

Emma: It’s a country in the dessert, but I think it's a good choice of destination for my first trip.

[ Flashback End ]

(I feel bad for nearly causing Rio to pass out, but…)

(I’ve been really excited every day ever since deciding to travel to Tanzanite.)

Luke: I’m surprised you’re not going with her.

Rio: The Owner told me to look after the bookstore while she’s away.

Rio: I really do want to go with her!! What if something happens to her when I’m not there…!?

Rio: But if staying behind will help Emma feel more at ease on her trip, then I… I’ll…

Clavis: Haha, you can be rest assured about that.

Clavis tore off a piece of the bread in his hand and ate it, savouring it in delight before swallowing.

Clavis: Because we’ll be her bodyguards in your place.

Rio: Oh, is that true? Thank goodness, I feel relieved—

Rio: — Wait, that won’t do—! What is that supposed to mean!?

(Seriously, what does he mean by that!?)

I almost dropped my fortune bread but managed to catch it in a panic.

Clavis: I mean exactly what I said.

Luke: We’re going to Tanzanite too.

Luke stuffed a whole honey-coated pastry in his mouth and licked his fingers.

Luke: I didn't wanna go at first because it’s too bothersome, but Chevalier ordered me to take care of some diplomatic matters.

(Going to Tanzanite during this period of time means…)

[ Flashback ]

Akatsuki: Politics have been unstable lately.

Emma: Is it because of… the Three-Nation Alliance?

Akatsuki: Yeah. None of the countries have made any moves at the moment, but this feels like the calm before a storm.

[ Flashback End ]

(... I’m an outsider now, so it’s best for me to refrain from getting involved.)

Clavis: Since we’re all leaving for Tanzanite at around the same time, why don't you come with us?

Clavis: We plan to take the route that passes through Benitoite. If you ride on the royal ship, your transportation is basically free.

Clavis: I can already picture you crying tears of joy. Ah, you don't even have to say it, I already know.

Clavis: You’re so lucky to have the privilege of travelling to a foreign country with your beloved Clavis—

Rio: OBJECTION!

Rio shot up from his seat with a start in the cramped room and pointed a finger at Clavis.

Rio: People always say that there's nothing scarier than something that comes free. What's your real motive? Out with it.

(As expected of Rio. That’s what I want to know too.)

Clavis took a deliberate sip of the tea I brewed and paused as though to savour it…

His wet lips then curled into a meaningful and bold smile.

Clavis: What do you think?

Luke: Don't say such things that mess with people. There's no deeper meaning at all.

Clavis: Read the room, Luke.

Luke: You read the room.

Luke: This guy ordered every official to report anything interesting about Emma to him.

Emma: So you were made aware of my trip to Tanzanite because…

Luke: The official who issued your travel permit ratted you out.

Emma: Is that not abuse of power!?

Clavis: What are you talking about? It’s for work.

Luke: This guy found out about your first ever trip and got all “amused” by it.

Luke: He even volunteered to personally make a trip to Tanzanite, and I got stuck with the job of babysitting him thanks to Nokto.

Luke: He said “I feel bad for Emma, so I’ll send at least one sensible person to go along”.

(Thanks, Nokto!)

Luke: But if you’d rather not deal with his crap, I’ll take personal responsibility to bury Clavis in the woods for you.

Clavis: No need to worry about that. Emma is shaking with excitement, isn't she?

Luke: … You should get your eyes checked out before we leave the country.

Rio … I’m worried. I’m very worried.

(Since I’m not travelling alone, I should probably discuss this with the Owner…)

(But with both Clavis and Luke accompanying me, having familiar faces in an unfamiliar land does make me feel more assured.)

After mulling it over, I furrowed my brows and tore the fortune bread in half.

Emma: Oh?

(Something fell out from inside.)

It was a small porcelain figurine that resembled a horse with a horn, standing proudly in my palm.

Rio: As expected of Emma! You hit the jackpot.

Clavis: Hm… the unicorn is indeed currently considered the continent-wide ultimate symbol of “good luck”.

Emma: Is that so?

Clavis: Yeah. You should keep it as a good luck charm. What a great start to your journey.

Clavis: After all, unicorns hold a special symbolism in a country in the desert.

(I don't exactly associate unicorns with deserts, though…)

Emma: If that’s the case, it does seem like it’ll bring me blessings.

Luke: You’re always a good person, anyway. Even without a unicorn, I bet lots of positive things will happen to you.

I gently cupped the unicorn figurine in my hand.

The unexpected stroke of luck felt encouraging, like it was telling me that my current most honest feelings were right.

Clavis: So, Emma, you’re travelling together with us, right…?

…

The gateway to Tanzanite, the country of deserts, divinations and illusions was a bustling port thriving with merchants, much like Benitoite.

…

Emma: We’re in Tanzanite!

(Although… I expected more sandstorms because I was told that it’s in a desert.)

The lively streets looked nothing like a desert.

However, the animals roaming the streets and the people’s clothing were clearly distinct from those in Rhodolite or Benitoite.

Along with the scent of spices wafting through the air, it was undeniable that we were now on foreign land.

(We’ve really come a long way.)

Akatsuki: Our destination is still far from here. It’s too early to get excited.

The Owner, carrying loads of goods for trading, came to stand next to me.

I was carrying a bag filled with books myself, but it was nothing compared to his load.

Emma: Should I help carry some of that?

Akatsuki: No need. I usually carry it all by myself.

(That's easily 100 books over there… I can't believe he carries them alone.)

Clavis: We offered to help too, but Akatsuki sure is hardworking.

Luke: I told Emma I’d help carry her stuff too.

Clavis and Luke whom we travelled on the same ship with packed lightly as compared to us.

Emma: Thanks. But since this is my first time sourcing for goods, I want to carry my own baggage.

Emma: Selling books in a foreign country and purchasing new ones…

Emma: I’m so excited to see how greatly my bag’s contents will change on the way back to Rhodolite.

Luke: Someone’s being really energetic.

Clavis: Akatsuki is lucky to have such a good assistant too.

Clavis: By the way, where are you two headed to after this?

Akatsuki: We’re meeting someone.

Emma: … We are?

I followed the Owner’s gaze that shifted unnaturally and saw a strikingly beautiful woman standing there.

(Wow…)

She wore vibrant ruby red clothing and was adorned in glamorous accessories that rivaled the Owner’s outfit.

Standing next to her was a bespectacled man with a gentle appearance. He smiled when he noticed us and approached.

Bespectacled Man: We’ve been expecting you, Akatsuki. And this is…?

Emma: I’m Emma, I came as the Owner’s assistant.

Basil: Ah, I read about you in the letter. A pleasure to meet you, please call me Basil.

Basil: And this lady over here is Kamal.

Kamal: …

Kamal smiled seductively and pulled out a stack of papers from which she showed me a piece with the words “it’s nice to meet you” written on it.

Basil: As you can see, Kamal can’t speak. Please communicate with her through writing.

(I see…)

Emma: Understood. I look forward to working with you both.

Clavis: … Hm.

As we exchanged pleasantries, Clavis stood nearby rubbing his chin.

Clavis: You must be emissaries of the living god, correct?

(... Huh?)

Basil: Well done! You noticed right away.

Clavis: The symbols of faith you wear make it easy to figure out.

Clavis pointed at his own chest.

Basil and Kamal gestured to their chests too, where the clasps of their cloaks were fastened.

(... Now that I took a proper look at them, the clasps have unicorns on them.)

(Are those the “symbols of faith”?)

Clavis: I was told in the past that the unicorn ornaments are worn by those who are close to god.

Clavis: And a few years ago, I recall hearing about a book merchant Azel especially favoured.

Clavis: I had my suspicions, but it seems that Akatsuki has some rather prominent clients.

Emma: Is god… one of your clients?

Akatsuki: Regardless of whether they’re god or royalty, a client is a client. Nothing more, nothing less.

(He never mentioned this to me!)

The Owner whose facial expression remained unchanged suddenly appeared far more impressive than I had initially thought of him to be.

Basil: We have always been the ones to guide Akatsuki during his visits to Tanzanite.

Basil: Prince Clavis, Prince Luke, please proceed in that direction. Emissaries from the Royal Court are waiting for you.

Clavis: Haha, not only for me but for Luke the newcomer too? How insightful indeed.

Clavis: Rhodolite didn’t send any prior notice about who would be coming. Is this another prophecy from the living god?

(...!)

Basil: That’s correct. Lord Azel is truly impressive. Is this a good time to talk about it? It is, right?

(He suddenly started speaking really fast…)

Kamal mercilessly smacked Basil on the head as he adjusted his glasses.

She then took out her stack of papers again and showed us the one that said “let’s go”.

(... That sounded like she hit hard enough to crack his skull. Is he okay?)

Luke: Then I guess this is where we go our own ways.

Clavis: I’ll personally come to meet you again, Emma. Before you start crying from loneliness.

Emma: I don't think I will, but until next time.

(So… we’re going straight to meet the god now, right?)

(I’m starting to get nervous.)

(I wonder what kind of person a living god is like.)

…

Azel: Thank you for taking the trouble to come all the way out to such a remote location.

Emma: Oh!

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