#I can confirm this is exactly how it went in my rewrite’s universe

[annymation]

I imagine Magnifico introducing the queen to his subjects went something like this:

King Magnifico: This is my girlfriend, guys!

Queen Amaya: I’m your wife, dear.

King Magnifico: My wife. Even Better.

[jabberwockprince]

I'm cooking r1999 OC stuff so i need to ramble about it hehehoho rubs my evil hands together

i had to rewrite this because i lost it but i also sound like a madman so i dont expect absolutely anyone to understand my train of thought <3

I OC-fied Tartaglia a few days ago but I just got around to thinking about his whole character and lore, and it hit me that I can just put his ass in Apeiron <3 I'd like to have an OC in each faction but we'll see how much my attention span lasts

BUT! THIS MF.

I want him to be from Apeiron specifically because the idea of an integer or equally valid number within the island acting like the most fucking feral irrational number is so funny to me. a complete betrayal of the scriptures but that somehow ends up making sense, so you cannot be mad because He Still Operates Within What Was Expected. a guy whose entire existence is just ANNOYING AND IRRITATING AND INSUFFERABLE. perhaps he's a fraction, I'm not sure yet. I'm not looking forward to researching numbers to find one that suits him thematically and shit

most likely considered a genius in an unconventional way, not similar at all to 37. more like still following the theme of opposing/overstepping while working within the guidelines. so maybe something to contrast her

37's talent for numbers is explained as an innate ability to see the numbers in everyone and see their true essence, which causes her to be isolated from the physical world and the people of her own community because she does not experience nor care about reality the same way others do. its impossible to try and understand her, because her insight is so vastly unique, but she can still provide solid proof to support her discoveries with no problem at all, as seen when she confirmed Vertin's number is 0. she cares about the scriptures and numbers, and yet she likes taking the chance to discover one's number away from others just because she can be the first one to do it

so im thinking. Aianteia could be the opposite. he cannot see the numbers in people like her, but their true Forms. the perfect geometrical shapes that can only exist in the abstract world of Forms, impossible to achieve beyond a close approximation. and because he essentially sees the "beauty" in people, he cares for the community, he is friendly and often befriends others rather easily. but he can't fucking explain why he sees the world Like That. nor provide any proof as to why someone is This Form or That Form. which renders him totally useless within Apeiron, because of the importance of proof. he cares about people figuring out their number, to discover themselves and whatnot--he cares so much that he will gladly show you which Form you're meant to be, the way the universe intended it

and THIS is when the themes of battle and war and carnage come into play. when it comes to irrational numbers or the impure, Aianteia connects their "floating points" and knows exactly what to do to purify them. to make their bodies as pure as their Forms. im saying that he basically sees fancy ass geometrical shapes and lines that let him know where to start cutting and slashing and killing. this is something he does out of genuine love and care, so that those who cant even DREAM of studying the scripture can get a fair chance at discovering their number, as irrational as it may be. all they have to do is survive

im thinking. that his scars are self-inflicted because he attempted to do the exact same thing to himself. and he survived. and he figured out his number this way. he cannot explain why or how or give proof as to why he knows THIS is his number (in a way, similar to how 37 knew from birth that THIS was her number) but i like to think that 77 took a good look at him and went "hes right." and everyone had to just. accept that this guy, most likely a very young teenager, found out his number THROUGH THE "WRONG" WAY

WHICH. IN TURN. FALLS WITHIN WHAT 37 INSISTS DURING CHAPTER 05--numbers are the eternal truth because no matter when or where or how you prove something, you and the person at the other side of the planet will come up with the same result. Aianteia has an entirely different approach that led to the same conclusion as 77's mother. once again, the issue is that this is something that cannot be corrected nor given proof. relating to the gnosis of an arcanist, and how arcanum is not a viable method of study because it cannot be verified by a third party. my brain is making connections at the speed of SOUND. anyway. the issue is that he's RIGHT. which would make him a fraction, potentially, since 37 describes them like this

Integers are the living examples of virtues. Fractions can be understood through specific means. Irrational numbers are the free spirits, while imaginary numbers are the existence which doesn’t belong to this dimension of the number axis

so he can be understood through specific means, but no one can figure out WHICH means exactly

I do think that he starts out genuinely wanting to help people achieve their purest self, and somewhere down in the middle of the road he started to have a little too much fun with the idea of being the hand that brings Forms to the world of Matters. and then as he spends more and more time outside of Apeiron, it becomes a dog eat dog mentality, whoever survives gets to be their truest, purest Form -> the strongest get to impose their ideals onto the rest. Aianteia SAYS that he's doing this to uphold the scriptures and defend them in the outside world, and this is partially true as a childish leftover desire from his initial journey. but really, its all about getting the shit beaten out of him and beating the shit out of others now to see who earns the right to live

if the Storm has been going on for 7 years, it started when he was 19, so im thinking he was around 14-15 when he left Apeiron during one of those expeditions. and they let him go specifically because pretty much everyone wanted him gone

from what I remember, both Manus and the Foundation existed BEFORE the Storm? so im willing to say that Aianteia joined Manus before the first Storm ever. but i also dont want to think too hard on time logistics because we dont have the full timeline of the game yet

[the-sunshine-dims]

amnesia rewrite! (chapter 3)

it took a bit but here's chapter 3!

ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 4 | ch 5 | ch 6 | ch 7

original fic

words: 3,457

ao3

contents and warnings: angst (past and present), hurt/comfort, amnesia,  mentally a child!janus, patton has too much guilt to be healthy, flower crowns, food mention,

________

Roman slowly approached the open inviting door of Patton's room, which considering the circumstances that he was there for, didn't seem that inviting. After a moment or so he knocked on the wall to warn Patton he was there.

And Patton, who had been on the floor possibly scrapbooking, definitely making a mess, turned around quickly at the noise before he smiled at him

“Hey Ro!” He greeted with a grin, waving roman over to him.

Roman offered him a small, slightly strained smile in return  “hey Padre,” he greeted in return before going “pat you might wanna sit down because something... kind of happened.”

Pattons happy smile shifted into a concerned one as he started talking again “okay I’m already sitting, but what happened?” 

Roman nervously rubbed his neck, while he had volunteered to go tell Patton the night earlier he had not accounted for how awkward it would be to tell people something he didn’t fully know about, actually he was pretty sure he would still feel awkward even if he knew every single detail. “okay, so, apparently Janus.. went into the imagination, and something happened, we- logan and me, think he got attacked or hit his head or something, and umm well logan kind of confirmed he has amnesia..” he chewed the inside of his lip nervously, a bad habit he had picked up from Virgil a long while back.

Patton opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to process that and trying to find the right words before simply going “is he okay?”

Roman nodded “yeah, well he’s the best he can be. When I left, him and Logan were competing on who could complete a rubix cube the fastest, I’m pretty sure Logan was even letting him win,” he smiled to himself, and Patton couldn't help the small smile at that mental image either “it's kind of adorable actually.” Roman trailed off, eventually he remembered that there’s still one, very important last thing he should tell Patton “okay also, specs said Janus is mentally a child of some verity, we still don’t know exactly how mentally old he is but we know he doesn’t remember king splitting and anything more recent than that.”

Patton made a sympathetic noise “poor thing…” he trailed off, it would be bad enough if Janus had to deal with amnesia but Janus in the mindset of a child.. children shouldn’t have to deal with the aftermath of amnesia or loss (especially twice in the loss subject.) 

Roman nodded crestfallen as the image of Janus sobbing into his chest burned itself into his memory “yeah..” he agreed, Roman may have been kind of upset at Janus for the POF disaster but.. he didn’t deserve anything that happened in the last 24 hours.

After a bit it was clear Patton wasn’t going back to his scrapbooking so Roman sat down on the floor with him, doing what he and Logan did with Janus and just not leaving him alone after unleashing a bunch of stuff he had to process.

After another long stretch of silence Patton looked over to Roman “hey, ro.. do you think I’d be able check up on him?” He asked, he wanted Janus to know he cared enough to go and see him when something bad happened.

Roman hummed “probably, I mean it’s not really my decision but I’m sure he’d be happy to see you from what Logan told me, so yeah we can go see!” He told him before continuing “oh also if he wants to hang out or is just fine with hanging out you can go to bring him somewhere else if you want, because i’m pretty it'll be kinda boring otherwise.”

Patton smiled fondly, and with a nod he got up and helped Roman up with him, and after a moment of just standing there Roman realized Patton didn’t know where Janus even was because he accidentally excluded that information, even when it would make sense to share it, the closest thing he said to a location was that logan knew about Janus as well, and that was why he was awkwardly standing around so he just took Patton's hand in his own and pulled them into the hallway and headed to logan's room.

Once they had passed the kitchen Patton paused though, stopping them both dead in their tracks, before simply asking “have you guys eaten yet?” 

Roman laughed awkwardly and nervously rubbed his neck again, trying his best to avoid eye contact,

That was enough of an answer for Patton so he just sighed fondly before popping into the kitchen and beginning to cook food for everyone, once he was done he made sure to leave an extra two plates in the fridge, though it would be a wonder if Remus actually ended up eating his and didn’t just use it for an ‘art project.’

_____

Janus looked up from where he was sitting on the floor watching tv almost the very second the door opened, Expecting Roman since he disappeared a bit before, so the moment he did catch a glance he gave the smallest, happy little smile as he began waving, and received a wave from Roman in return,

Morality entering right behind Roman was a surprise though.

He offered another wave, because he liked Morality, He was nice, Morality once gave him one of his stuffies when Janus was sick, so he liked him.

After a moment Janus just settled back into his spot as Patton came over to him and handed him breakfast, Janus offered him a brief thankful smile to be polite because that's what Thomas's parents said to do before beginning to turn his attention back to the tv.

Patton was happy Janus seemed relatively content but he didn’t know how to ask to hang out with him, if he ever had a plan he had forgotten it the second he stepped into the room.

After a couple awkward moments he just took a breath and settled down before turning his attention to Janus and asking “hey would I be able to hang out with you for a little bit?” 

Janus turned to him and nodded, simply going “‘Kay” and continuing to do as he did prior, now just with the acknowledgment of Patton's presence, Patton couldn't help but smile as he settled fully onto the floor, sitting criss-cross applesauce against the bedside, passively waiting for Janus to be done with his food and initiate a conversation, Patton knew sometimes there were days where people were less talkative so he didn’t wanna force him to talk if he wasn’t in the mood. 

After a while passed and everyone had eaten, Janus did end up speaking up, asking simply “how are you?” 

Patton smiled at him “I’m doing fine kiddo, how are you?” He asked in response, honestly he wasn’t the finest. He was nervous and still feeling guilty from everything that went down because of the wedding and the fact he had treated Janus so badly, hell he’d treated Remus badly too! He had been so mean to everyone.

Janus hummed in thought before simply going “‘m fine too,” which was only partially a lie, and he had a very tiring day the day before so he got to lie about how mentally drained he was, and hey he was fine for the most part, Roman and logic were being very nice and he had been able to just hang out watching tv while Logic worked and he liked doing that, it was some much needed calm,

Patton offered another smile as he tried thinking of what to say; after another awkward silence he decided To just warmly go “hey kiddo would you want to go explore? And if so do you have any specific places you wanna hang out at?”

Janus pinched his chin in a very exaggerated thinking pose that would make logan proud before just going “sure! and i don’t really mind anywhere really! Well- as long as there aren't horses there, they’re mean,” he told him, before continuing “they hate me and I hate them, it’s a mutually understood hatred.”

Patton didn’t have Time to unpack all of that so he just chuckled and nodded like he understood and didn’t have a million questions on why Janus hated every Horse in existence and just how they all hated him back- so instead of thinking about that he took a moment to think on where he should go with janus, not really knowing where janus would genuinely want to go, before remembering a certain interest Janus used to have that Patton distinctly remembered king showing off whenever he could, so after not much of a second thought he just smiled and asked “would you wanna hang out with me in Roman’s meadow? It’s really pretty there and hey we could even make flower crowns-“ 

The moment the words left his mouth Janus practically had stars in his eyes, he looked like a steven universe character as he excitedly gasped before nodding vigorously “yes please!” He chirped excitedly.

Patton once again smiled, and contained a soft chuckle at how happy Janus looked, he looked like when you tell a child ‘actually yeah why don't you pick out a candy’ when going to the store, he looked.. childish, and Patton thinks that’s good, if he’s in the mindset of younger Janus, Patton doesn’t think it would be good if Janus started acting like normal Janus right now.

After a bit of Janus just being excited it finally crossed his mind that the reason Patton’s not getting up to go is because he’s waiting for him to say he’s ready, so he bounces up and after a short confused look that’s quickly replaced with a smile Janus helps Patton up to the best of his ability and then it’s Janus’s turn to wait because he doesn’t know where anything is, he doesn't  even know how he got to Logan's room, all he remembers is crying a bit and then waking up under a soft blanket on Logan’s bed.

Luckily for Janus, Patton took no time to shoot a wave to Roman and Logan before going “I’ll be back soon, don’t worry I’ll keep him safe” and then presenting his hand for Janus and once their hands are linked Patton headed to the nearest imagination entrance.

_____

The moment Janus could see the archway with the absolutely beautiful meadow covered with all kinds of wildflowers and overgrown green grass just beyond it he ran out into it without a moment's hesitation.

Patton followed him with a smile playing on his lip, and a chuckle following in suit as Janus twirled himself around into a soft patch of grass and promptly fell face first into the blanketed earth, after a moment Janus just smiled hugely and began happily laughing as he turned over so he could face the sky. 

(And Patton tried his best to not think about how he had kind of outcasted this side, this side who with just the mention of flowers or flower crowns was almost bouncing with excitement, this side who viewed him as a friend, this side who really did want the best for Thomas. And instead he tried to focus on the fact he was trying to repair it, and the fact that Janus was practically elated as he began his best attempt at rolling around in the grass and flowers, which counted for something, at least it meant he chose a good place to hang out with Janus,) so he just smiled and sat down next to Janus, 

And after a moment he picked a small yellow flower and offered it to Janus, cuasing Janus to beam at him as he took it before he began picking others around him and weaving them into a crown with it.

And After a moment Patton just slowly went “I have to admit, I have no idea how to make flower crowns,”

Janus looked over at him with a reassuring smile before he replied “that’s okay, don’t worry! That just means I can teach you!” he said as he grabbed more flowers and started a new crown and while making sure Patton was paying attention, weaving them together slowly to see if that was all Patton needed to learn or if he needed actual instructions like he did when creativity was trying to teach him to crochet.

Patton tried his hand at it after he grabbed a handful of flowers and slowly tried to replicate what Janus did, and after a bit and some trial and error he was successful, Which caused both Janus and Patton to cheer because he Did it!

“You did it!! You did super super well too!” Janus congratulated him excitedly, and he decided he liked teaching, he felt super proud, he understood now why Logic liked it so much now (despite not really actually teaching.)

“Thanks!” Patton grinned, and after a minute they both started doing their own things, Patton trying to make another flower crown to get the gist of it down to memory, and Janus.. Doing something, he wasn't entirely sure what.

Though soon the peaceful happy mood shifted for Patton, it wasn't that anything really happened, actually it might've been because nothing happened, because it was quiet enough to allow Patton to begin thinking, and normally thinking was a good thing, but recently every time he began thinking all he could think about was how wrong he'd been and how much he'd failed- so the more time went on the more sorrowful he became and the more the small smile that had been left from the little mini celebration dwindled.

After awhile of the two just sitting in silence the thoughts got louder and louder, them all just echoing in his head until they got loud enough to voice themselves, much to the chagrin of Patton, who would prefer having a choice of whether his insecurities and regrets got out, and if they did get out he would prefer to tell them to someone who hasn't literally just been through a traumatic experience, “I’m sorry- I’m sorry I misjudged you and was mean- I’m so sorry I was so awful to you- I’m so so sorry” he practically word-vomited. the words coming out a mile a minute, and because of that he was able to make it become more mumbly a little after the second ‘sorry’, which was lucky for him as he wanted it to be as inaudible as possible so Janus didn't have to actually understand his little guilt-ridden ramble, which didn't work completely but he tried, because he didn’t want to let his guilt get in the way of hanging out with Janus, Janus quite honestly should not have to deal with that at the moment, he should get to have a happy fun day, since he was already dealing with so much, if he did even tell him he wanted to tell him after his memory returned.

Janus was silent for a couple moments, quite honestly he was so confused, he didn’t know what Patton meant and even if he did it was so abrupt it left Janus quite literally stunned, but after an uncomfortably silent minute or so he tried to defend Patton “I don’t know what your talking about.. but I’m sure you weren’t mean! And if you were you probably had a good reason for it, I know you! You wouldn’t be mean if you didn’t have a good reason!” He told him insistently. 

Patton.. really wished that were true, he had a good reason on paper but in reality not so much, he wanted to keep Thomas safe, and somehow his view of Janus had changed throughout the years to view him as a danger, despite him knowing Janus, well he didn’t know his name till recently but he knew Janus. but regardless of that somehow he started thinking Janus was evil, and then he had mistreated him, not hearing him out even when Janus was probably the expert on the situation. “dee.. I know you don’t remember it but I really was super super mean! and I misjudged you and I most definitely ended up hurting you and you didn’t deserve any of it! and I’m so sorry I’m just.. so so sor-“ Patton was cut off abruptly as Janus hugged him, 

“You probably had your reasons,” he said once again, much more insistent, and patton couldn't help but wonder, had Janus always seen the best in people? And when did he stop? “-and whatever they were I’ll probably forgive you for them! I mean I honestly don’t remember what you're talking about so it might be... a bit before I fully forgive you when I got all the memories and stuff back but-  no matter what,” he pulled out of the hug just to be able to look into Morality’s eyes, trying to look stern, which for once, didn't really work. “you deserve a second chance.” He told him firmly, and after another moment he continued “and I’m certain we’ll be friends! I promise I’ll stand by you when I’m all memory-y again, promise!” He grinned and plopped his now suddenly and magically finished flower crown onto Morality’s head.

Patton smiled sadly at him, “okay, and.. Thank you,” he said, leaving what he was thanking him for blank, and honestly he was still feeling extremely guilty because despite everything and Janus not really knowing what he meant he still comforted him to the best of his abilities, and really how could he think Janus was evil, how could he, roman and Logan dismiss him so easily? never inviting him to the table, and pretty much just ignoring his existence to Thomas. later when everything was normaller Patton needed to have a sit down discussion with Janus and Remus because he needed to make sure they were starting to be listened too, and that they knew they would be, however though currently he needed to focus on Janus, because Patton brought him here to have a good day and while he thinks since it's been maybe a bit more than a hour, and eventually it'll get boring, he still wants him to have a good day.

So he adjusted the flower crown to be more comfortable on his head before he slipped right into his happy façade which luckily Janus, who was trying to make a little cave out of the tall overgrown grass, didn't seem to question “so kiddo! After maybe a half hour more out here would you wanna go inside and watch a show or movie? I can make popcorn!” (-and now that Patton was paying attention did Janus look that young before?)

Janus perked up like a sunflower and nodded “mhmm! sure! What would you wanna watch?”

Patton Smiled “I don't really care, i'll be fine with whatever you wanna watch kiddo,”

Janus seemed to think about it before going “can we watch kiki’s delivery service..? Oh! And can we have skittles too?”

Patton smiled once again. “of course! When we get inside I’ll set it all up!” 

Janus’s eyes lit up brightly before he murmured an excited thank you and tried to hurry and begin distracting himself so he wouldn’t feel like he was waiting and time would pass quicker and a minute wouldn't feel like an hour also he needed to focus on making that last crown anyway since he had already made one for Logic and he needed to make one for Roman.

_____

A couple hours later Logan and Roman got curious as to where the two went and discovered Patton and Janus dead asleep, Janus pretty much curled up into a ball against Patton's side, Janus’s normally small form somehow slightly smaller, as Patton's arm snaked around his side almost protectively, with the Tv asleep from no use, Logan and Roman just shared a soft fond look before silently agreeing to not wake them and summoning a blanket for the two before leaving. Logan and Roman could see something had changed, they could see the tension eased from Patton's shoulders ever so slightly, not gone for sure but he was clearly content and that was breathing room, because while Patton had always left the door to his room open as an invitation to anyone and everyone that they could come in and that had persisted, Patton had still been coming out of his room less and less, and aside from that there was other things that just made it clear something was wrong, but Patton and Janus were content, right there, taking a nap, and for now that's all they needed to know. 

[gilded-green]

Eeeeeeee!!! Congrats on ten years!! I am having FEELINGS about this! All of your OCs are my favourites and I am so grateful for Stingrae’s support. I would commit CRIMES for a rewrite of GG, but mostly I want to know whether you have any favourite things you want to share? <3 <3 <3

Thank you Polly!!!! <3<3<3

We all owe Stingrae so much I stg.

I would also probably commit crimes for a rewrite of GG but frankly that’d still involve me having to WRITE it so idk if it’d help. XD

Oh jeez MY favorite things??? Uhhhh okay let’s see...

The fact that I am STILL loving this story and very devoted to it even after years, many of which were just radio silence. I knew that I was the slow and steady type, but it’s nice to have confirmation. XD

The fact that when I started writing this fic I was younger than Lu Ten is at the beginning, and now I am older than he’ll be at the end. Jk that’s not a favorite thing it’s just a pathetically hilarious thing forgive me lol. XD

I think I was one of the first people to say “actually Lu Ten would kind of be an imperialist jerk” long before I knew the term “imperialist”

ALL THE HISTORY AND CULTURAL THINGS I’VE LEARNED FROM RESEARCHING FOR MY FICS. I learned a lot of history as a kid but good curriculums on Chinese history just didn’t EXIST back then, or at least didn’t exist in the homeschooling catalogs my mother was able to access, so it’s really nice to have a hobby that also helps me learn stuff.

Huang and Wu Sheng. I love them so much and I’m very proud of them and how they always catch new readers’ attention because they are NOT what you’d expect of Dai Li agents. I can’t wait to expand upon them and their backstories in upcoming fics.

Shirong, and how people can’t decide if they love him or hate him or relate to him or all of them at once. XD

The fact that, ten years later, people have FINALLY STOPPED ASKING ME if I took Shirong from a certain other fic, because the idea of different writers looking at the same baby name lists is a foreign concept :P

Literally everything about the Preservation Branch, I’m so proud of my dumb museum guards

The fact that it’s been so long since I first wrote GG and I’ve written so much other stuff since then that a lot of things people REALLY wanted elaboration on back in the day (Enlai, Huang and Wu Sheng) have kinda fallen to the wayside. I get a lot more questions about Nanyue and the Dai family now. The passage of time sure is funny!

Just the fact that I was actually able to write Gilded Green at all. Like. It’s hard to explain. But I had to grow into my writing. Or my writing style, or approach to writing...idk what to call it. But this thing I do? With the worldubilding? And the OCs? And just the careful web of....stuff? I always wanted to do that, even as a kid, I grew up on massive stories like Star Wars and Lord of the Rings with crazy worldbuilding backgrounds and deep meanings and elaborate politics and I could not figure out how to tell stories like that myself. I remember being 12 years old staring at a bunch of concepts for an original fantasy idea I had and realizing that I had no idea how to make them work because I was too young to understand how the world worked. I remember deciding to shelve that whole story because I realized I didn’t even know what I didn’t know. Tolkien and Star Wars didn’t really explain how the worldbuilding happened, it was just THERE and I couldn’t figure out how to make it appear for myself, it wasn’t exactly easy for a child to figure out. Sometimes I envy kids these days who’re growing up with, like, Elena of Avalor, that show lays out some FANTASTIC political responsibility concepts in ways kids can understand, I could’ve used that as a kid. I was also crap at understanding how people actually interact with each other and just....had all these issues with figuring out how to make a story work, not at the writing level, but on a my-understanding-of-the-universe level, which was kinda humbling and also kinda scary. And some of that was youth, and some of that was undiagnosed ADD making it so that I just didn’t Get Things, but either way when I tentatively started writing GG and realized that wait, I think it’s making sense, and the characters are interacting and it’s not weird, and I think I’m GETTING it, omg, AM I GETTING IT??? That was a great feeling, even if it did feel like I was balancing on a tightrope.

ALSO the way in which you can KINDA track me slowly going from raised-in-a-conservative-Christian-environment to WELP-I’m-queer-and-pretty-progressive-now over the course of my writing, tho that may be hard to see if you don’t know what you’re looking at. I can see it tho, lol. I was fortunate in that my upbringing was just kinda incidental because my mother was too tired to consider any other approach to life, and as time went on my family all actually grew into very different, much better people. I was kind of the trailblazer in that regard tho (not fun) and frankly it was fanfiction that helped me get over my queerphobia and internalized misogyny, and it was the racebending protests that cropped up around The Movie That Shall Not Be Named that made me start to realize how racism actually worked and what cultural misappropriation was. If you squint you MIGHT be able to make out where in my stories I started getting excited over my newfound beliefs and started frantically shaking more sexualities over my characters like “I have GOT to de-heteronormative-ize this” XD But yeah this fic has been a big part of my life and you can see me changing as a person if you know where to look.

MY OCs. The fact that my OCs win people over so well! I had a very volatile relationship with OCs in my youth - self-inserts were A Thing Of The Devil in fandom back then and were to be mocked. I was, I’m semi-sorry to say, part of that crowd - never flamed anyone directly, because I was raised to Not Be Mean, but I joined in on the mocking on private message boards. These days I look back on my youthful indiscretions with eye-rolling fondness, because I can now see how much internalized misogyny I was dealing with and I’m very much over the whole idea of Mary-Sues. But the community I was with did actually have a lot of GOOD writing advice as well, and it was a fun group of people, so I can’t fully regret my time there. When fandom drift eventually caused me to float away, I took those lessons on what made an OC annoying and useless with me, and when I started writing OCs of my own, I made sure to go in the opposite direction. It really seems to have paid off!

The fact that I’ve managed to collect a small but loyal following and see the same names popping up after I post something. I don’t think I could handle being a BNF, but knowing that I’ve got a dozen people who consistently read and enjoy my stuff? That’s so cool. <3

There’s a LOT of other stuff, really, but off the top of my head...here you go! <3

[wafflewarriors]

A Rewrite of History

Chapter 10—Bugs (Part 1)

The Winchesters shoved you in the back seat, handcuffed and tied. You were mostly just thankful they spared you the indignity of a gag. Anyway, you kept your mouth shut. Not like there was any point convincing them of your innocence; they'd see enough proof for a lifetime.

The silence in the car was awkward, like you had impeded on what was usually their time alone. It obviously wasn't your choice, but it still felt like they were blaming you.

Dean had his music playing softly in the background, but that was about it. 

So this is how it's gonna be. Fun times.

They were silent the whole way, only finally talking when saw a town up ahead. Night was soon falling.

Dean sighed as he pulled into a bar parking lot. He asked Sam, "You wanna come with?"

Sam shook his head. "Nah. You go. I'll watch her." He proceeded to take out a newspaper and began perusing.

Dean shrugged and went on his way.

You couldn't help but peek over Sam's shoulder. 'Local Death & Medical Mystery' the title read. Looks like the public suspected it was 'Accelerated' Mad Cow disease. You both knew that that was not the case.

Sam got annoyed with you peering over him so he decided to get out of the car and sit on the hood in peace.

"Bugs," you murmured. Literally the worst episode, in your opinion. Then, you realized that the window was open and you fell silent. If Sam had heard it, he didn't react, though.

Nothing was ever resolved in Bugs. They just told them to never come back. And anyone with a brain knew that would never last. Eventually, after a few generations, people would be back at it.

You just prayed they wouldn't leave the car door open or something when the swarm came. Could bugs get into the car? You weren’t sure.

Wait. Hold on—were they just going to drag you around the country with them until they figured out how to kill you? Is that what this was?

Wasn't that just comical.

You'd save the 'I'm human' speech, then. The longer they thought you had something they needed, the longer you could see yourself surviving this. The longer you had to form a plan.

Not that you had much to work with.

///

A little while later, Dean came out of the bar laughing at the wad of money in his hand, waving it at his brother like a little kid.

Sam sighed. "You know, we could get day jobs once in a while."

"Hunting's our day job. And the pay is crap."

True.

"Yeah, but… hustling pool? Credit card scams? Not the most honest thing in the world, Dean," he scolded.

"Well, let's see. Honest…" he lifted his hands like he was weighing the words on a scale. "...fun and easy. It's no contest. Besides, we're good at it. It's what we were raised to do."

Sam was smiling, but he shook his head. "Yeah, well how we were raised was jacked."

"Yeah, says you." Dean started counting his cash. "We got a new gig or what?"

"Maybe." Sam stands. "Oasis Plains, Oklahoma. Not far from here. A gas-company employee. Dustin Burwash supposedly died from Creutzfeldt-Jakob."

Dean paused. "Huh?"

"Mad cow disease," Sam said. You muttered it under your breath along with him, shaking your head.

"Mad cow… wasn't that on Oprah?"

"You watch Oprah?"

You muffled your laugh—quiet enough so they wouldn't hear it through the window. This was the part of them you missed seeing. A side you'd likely never see directed at you, unfortunately.

Dean straightened, like his masculinity was hurt by admitting he's seen Oprah once or twice. "So this guy eats a bad burger. Why is it our kind of thing?"

Sam began explaining. "Mad cow disease causes massive brain degeneration. It takes months, even years, for the damage to appear. But this guy, Dustin? Sounds like his brain disintegrated in about an hour. Maybe less."

"Okay, that's weird," Dean admitted.

"Yeah. Now, it could be a disease. Or it could be something much nastier," Sam said.

"Alright." Dean clapped his hands. "Oklahoma."

You had to get out of here.

///

You refused to sleep on the drive there. It wasn’t far anyway: about three hours. You could tough through it. If you fell asleep they'd see that you were vulnerable—you were human, and you weren't comfortable with them figuring that out yet. Even if you had insisted so many times before.

So you kept your eyes peeled. Regardless of how tired you really were.

Sam seemed perfectly comfortable sleeping. Probably because his brother was right beside him.

You brooded, wondering if they were going to torture you for information on their dad. Information you didn't have.

"Do you even sleep?" Dean asked, breaking your train of thought. You were probably creeping him out.

You let the question settle into silence. It was one in the morning, and you were struggling to stay awake.

"No," you said softly, careful not to wake Sam. This was a conversation for you and Dean alone. If you could convince Dean you weren’t human, then he'd eventually convince Sam. Convincing Dean of your guilt would be a lot easier than convincing Sam, in your opinion. 

Despite Sam hating you, he was one smart cookie. Dean was too, but he also often blinded himself with his own stubbornness, and you could use that to your advantage.

Funny, how something you were trying to prevent a few days ago was now the only thing keeping you alive. 

As unfortunate as it was, you needed them to believe you were something more than human so they'd figure you had something to offer.

At this point, you honestly weren’t sure what side you were on anymore. 

It was probably more 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend' kind of thing. The Winchesters just didn't know it yet.

Dean narrowed his eyes. "So what can you do?"

You took your shot. "I can tell you that Dustin definitely didn't have Mad Cow Disease," you said, twiddling your thumbs, which just barely jingled your handcuffs.

He gave you a dubious look through the rearview mirror. Does he ever watch the road? "What killed him, then?"

"Bugs," you said easily.

Dean scoffed, but you can feel yourself smiling. This was going to work—it would just take a little time.

///

The Winchesters still visited the gas company to confirm that Dustin never had Mad Cow Disease. You bit back your I-told-you-so when Dean came back grumbling.

They left you alone, again, when they arrived at the construction site. At this point, your legs were cramped, your arms sore, and your wrists rubbed raw; maybe later you'd ask them to loosen the handcuffs.

Maybe.

Though you had a feeling Dean would just tighten them.

When Sam came back with a dead beetle in hand, you felt a smugness play on your lips. You couldn't help the little grin. "What's up?" you said smoothly. You were getting a lot more comfortable with them, maybe because they weren't set on killing you just yet. 

There was tension as Dean drove, like they were deciding whether to even consider your opinion or not. Then, Dean swiveled around in his seat, and stared you dead in the eye. "How did you know?” he demanded.

You dared to raise a cocky eyebrow at him. “Lucky guess."

Dean looked ready to punch you in the face, but Sam redirected his attention by grabbing his shoulder to point out the sign saying 'Open House: BBQ'.

Dean was silently fuming.

Amused, you couldn’t help but add, "Oh, just so you're aware, they accept homeowners of any race, religion, color, or…" You smirked. "Sexual orientation."

Dean slugged you in the jaw, and your vision greyed. Frick—

///

When you came to, the Winchesters were gone and you were drooling against the upholstery. So much for convincing him you didn’t sleep.

Once again, they had left you helpless—waiting in the Impala as they worked the case. As a current hostage of the Winchesters, you were surprised by the lack of torture, and endless waiting that you had to endure.

You lazily watched as a red minivan pulled up in front of the Impala, probably to join the barbecue. "Don't mind me," you sighed, "just a hostage waiting in the car while you go to a party. No biggie." The guy looked stiff and awkward. Almost robotic. Weird.

You shrugged it off. 

Anyway, in your book, that was sometimes worse than torture.

You probably shouldn't be as shocked as you were that you weren’t getting tortured. Neither of these boys had even endured death yet. Dean hadn't gone to Hell… 

If Crowley had been here, he would have agreed with you. Nobody likes waiting. Though, he was probably off scamming some poor, naive people of their souls right about now.

Demons confused you.

Speaking of… did the Minivan Guy's eyes just turn black?

You stiffened. You pulled at your cuffs. "See," you hissed to yourself, "this is why you shouldn't leave me sitting in the car, Winchesters. This is exactly why—"

The man—the demon—approached the car, and you cowered as far back into the seat as you could. But no matter how you positioned yourself, there was no hiding.

Damn—he was a big guy, too. You probably couldn't stand a chance against this guy if he was a human, let alone a demon. He was almost bigger than Sam Winchester. Not taller, just... burlier. Meaner looking.

And as much as you hated to be a hostage of the Winchesters, the demons were not a better option. Whatever they had planned, you confident you wouldn't like it.

You cursed to yourself. "If anyone's listening, I lied earlier; torture is so much worse than waiting in the car all the time. I was freaking joking!" You desperately tried to open the door, but it was locked. "I swear this universe has it out for me!"

The demon was coming straight for you. Your car was gone, as was your angel blade. And… he had a brand on his arm that looked like a cancel sign. It was a binding tattoo. So exorcisms were out of the picture—so they knew your go-to, now. And they knew you were defenseless otherwise.

Your only hope was the angels, but they definitely weren't interested. 

When the demon brought up his fist, you covered your face, bracing for the inevitable. 

The window spat glass when he punched it. A hand reached through and grabbed for the chains of your handcuffs. When you pulled away, he socked you in your bruised face. 

The demon snatched your handcuffs. You leaned away, but it was useless. If a demon could casually open an airplane's emergency exit, it wasn't going to have any trouble uprooting you from your seat. 

And with that, he wrenched you through the broken window like a whip, resulting in your head slamming into hard concrete, and glass cutting into your exposed skin.

Ow.

How was nobody seeing this?! Sure, mostly empty neighborhood, but sheesh. They were having barbecue while you got your brains knocked out on their driveway.

You wheezed on the pavement, blinking up at the Impala's broken window. The Winchesters going to think I did that, aren't they? Always my fault…

Unless you left signs of struggle.

There was already some blood on the sidewalk, but that could be dismissed. No, you needed to leave an alarming amount. And the demon could give that to you.

With what small amount of strength you had left, you pulled your arms toward your chest, and bit down on the demon's arm. You spat the blood on the ground, and his arm left puddles behind him.

The demon laughed in his deep, demonic voice, but you struggled to hear him over the ringing in your eardrums. "You think that will harm me? And you call yourself a hunter."

Who ever said I was a hunter? Survivor, maybe, but never a hunter. Hunters are supposed to be brave.

And I am not brave.

[tmae3114]

Hey i followed you for your insightful analyses of DragonFable lore, and was wondering if you could give a quick and dirty rundown of what exactly the Reset was? I am really not that good at MQ and all i know is that the two are related

[vibrates] it’s gone two am my time and I was going to sleep soon but absolutely yes I can do that!!!

okay, so, as short as I can manage it, bc you asked for a quick rundown: Mechquest and Dragonfable take place in, effectively, the same universe & timeline. MQ is a prequel to DF - the MQ timeline became the DF timeline via the Reset. The actual mechanics are somewhat more complicated (there’s a time loop involved) but that’s A Different Discussion.

The Reset was a last resort Worst Case Scenario backup plan on behalf of the good guys that didn’t go entirely right but also didn’t go entirely wrong either.

Prior to the Reset, the universe was a sci-fi setting with spaceships and different planets and giant robots - though there was still the fantasy element of magic as an existing, known thing, which a lot of tech ran on via batteries, that technology was called “manatech”, and the use of magic itself was something of a lost art. So really it was more like..... a fantasy setting that was far enough into “the future” that it had become sci fi? Anyways, the good guys were at war with the Shadowscythe - who were thought to be aggressive aliens and then turned out to be magical creatures invading from a different plane rather than a different galaxy - and, well... the good guys lost. Because the Shadowscythe play dirty and when it looked like the war was won for our side, they set off a bomb that destroyed everything. The entire universe was destroyed in an instant. “If we can’t have it, nobody can!” and all that.

That’s where the Reset comes in.

The Reset was, effectively, a backup copy of the universe. It was intended for “if the worst comes to pass and the Shadowscythe win, this is our last resort, our reset button”, sort of. Because while it was, pretty much, the universe itself converted into code with the magical power to recreate reality shoved into it, it had been modified so that the Shadowscythe would be shunted back into their home dimension if it was activated.

Warlic’s personal starship, which carried the Reset, was shielded against the end of the universe and programmed to teleport an individual there in the event of universe ending calamity, to activate it. However, Warlic had also programmed in a joke to try and cheer up the Literal Sole Survivor Of The End Of The Universe and it went horribly wrong. It was a coffee machine and the coffee got spilled on the Reset, causing a bunch of the data to get corrupted.

Thus, when the Reset was activated, it did restore the universe as intended, but it also rewrote a bunch of reality and time which trying to fix the corrupted data, ultimately giving us the world of Dragonfable! Because time was rewritten, pretty much nobody remembers that it happened.

There are a few things, and people, which survived the Reset’s rewriting of reality in their prior forms and a few which only got partially rewritten. Kordana, for example, survived intact. As did Jack Crescent, presumbly due to the whole “sealed away” thing. Similarly, Kathool makes reference to a few MQ events at points. The Ancient Exosuit from the Calamity Saga is an example of something which was partially rewritten - it’s an old Shadowscythe mecha, resized and repurposed by the Reset.

(The Reset did succeed in kicking the Shadowscythe back to the Plane of Darkness, though! Iirc, they’re stuck there now and working via proxies like the Doom spirits, where before they could show up themselves. I’m not 100% certain of that lore though so don’t quote me on that part!)

At present, the only people confirmed to have been actively changed by the Reset but continue to retain their prior memories are Safiria and Cysero. Warlic is implied in the Vizalain quests to have some idea about what happened but his reactions to the Shadowscythe mecha the Rose unearthed in the current plotline far more clearly suggest he doesn’t remember.

I hope that’s clear and concise enough! I am very aware it’s still long but I am not good at brevity XD I tried to stick to strictly Reset stuff and how it relates to DF without meandering into MQ lore

And if you want a longer, more in-depth explanation of the Reset, with relevant MQ lore attached...... I am fully willing to do that also. Though, probably at a later point, after I have slept

[the--sad--hatter]

Mischief & Madness - Chapter 12 (Loki x Reader)

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Loki/Reader (No physical description of reader other than female presenting)

Warnings: LOKI, Angst, lots of violence, graphic gore, extreme cursing, anxiety attacks.

Summary:

Living in New York has its ups and its downs. Upside - You have a cushy job at Stark Industries. Downside - You wind up getting yourself kidnapped by The God Of Mischief.

All you wanted was a decent cup of coffee, now you’re stuck on the otherside of the universe with a sociopath who has only begrudgingly not murdered you.

To get back home you’ll have to work with Loki, and probably stop trying to stab him.

To regain his power, he’ll have to work with you, and probably stop trying to slaughter you.

When Mischief and Madness collide, chaos ensues. Even if you survive this, the universe probably won’t…

Masterlist     Spotify Playlist Link

Chapter Twelve 

Loki was staring at you like you’d grown a second head. You waited patiently for him to process it, occupying yourself by kicking rocks and watching them explode into dust.

 “You want to what?” He eventually demanded, his eyebrows raised so high that they practically merged with his hairline.

 You shrugged at him, your smirk growing exponentially. Flummoxing the actual God of Chaos was satisfying as hell.

 “The Infinity Stones! We just go back to before Taa was destroyed and remove the Deathwaves.” You grinned.

“We can not just go back. Even if we could, we wouldn’t be changing anything. We would just create an alternate timeline with no Deathwaves, this universe would still die out.” He argued.

 “Fine, ok… Let’s not go back in time. Let’s reboot the universe. Look we can try and determine who or what is causing these Deathwaves and we can try and stop them, or we can just delete the program and rewrite it without the bug in the coding.” You tried to explain giddily.

 “How?” He asked.

 “We use the Infinity Stones to destroy the universe, just wipe it all out, clean slate. Then we rebuild it exactly the same way, minus Deathwaves. Nobody will even know what happened, they won’t feel a thing.” You told him.

 “Are you quite mad?” He questioned, a little fearfully.

 “Quite.” You agreed.

 He gaped at you but you could see the spark in his eyes, he could see the (psychotic) genius in your proposed plan.

 “Look, I’m not a hero. Hunting down the bad guys and kicking ass isn’t my thing. I create things, and when they don’t work I burn it all down and start again. That’s the only thing I have to offer this partnership. The universe, it’s just a really elaborate computer program. So we save all the coding, the people and the plants, download the files into the infinity stones and then we upload them to version 2.0. No time travel, no hunting down baddies, just straight up ‘saving’ the universe.” You coaxed.

 “And what do I bring to this madness?” He asked, mirroring your slightly maniacal grin.

 “You’re the god here, you’re not only strong enough to use the Stones, you’re the only person I can think of who’s smart and cunning enough to pull this off. This is going to take more than brawn and power. Besides, come on Loki… Don’t you want to destroy the universe?”

 “This is quite literally the most insane, chaotic plan I have ever heard.” He sighed.

 “Yeahhh, and you’re totally on board aren’t ya?” You needled.

 He started impassively at you while he weighed it all up in his head and when the corners of his lips started to gradually curl upwards; you knew you had him.

 “Very well. Say I am willing to go along with this plan of yours. How do you propose we obtain The Infinity Stones?” He challenged.

 “We…” You faltered as soon as the first word was out of your mouth. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead.” You admitted.

 “This entire mad scheme of yours hinges on us having The Infinity Stones, how have you not thought that far ahead?” He grouched.

 “How am I the one doing all the work? You could do something more useful than standing around bitching and being pretty.” You shot back, crossing your arms in a sulk.

 “Am I infringing on your territory? I do apologise.” He scoffed.

 “How many are there again? Five?” You asked, ignoring his snide compliments.

 “Six. The Space Stone, The Reality Stone, The Time Stone, The Soul Stone, The Power Stone and The Mind Stone.” He corrected, rolling his eyes at for not even knowing how many of the darned things there were.

 “Well, we know where three are. The Time Stone and Mind Stone are back on Earth so that’s easy.” You shrugged. “Tessie the Space Stone is…”

 And right on cue, as if summoned by your voice, The Tesseract materialised right in front of you. It spun in the air, glowing before it dimmed and dropped towards the ground. You instinctively reached out and caught it, flinching when you realised what you’d just done.

 But nothing happened. You remained on Taa and The Tesseract remained in your hand.

 “Found one?” You breathed out in awe, holding it up to an equally awestruck Loki.

 “Vænn, how are you doing that?” He asked fearfully.

 “Doing what? It just popped up, I didn’t do anything.” You said.

 You tilted your head at it curiously before you realised exactly what it was you were doing. You were holding The Tesseract. You. A mortal.

 “Ahh!” You yelped, dropping it.

 You admittedly didn’t know that much about The Tesseract, just what you’d read from the files you hacked one afternoon and skimmed through in boredom. What you did know was that it was too powerful to be held directly by anyone human.

 Loki’s eyes were burning into you suspiciously as he slowly approached and knelt down to pick it up.

 “You’re human.” It wasn’t a statement, but it wasn’t a question either.

 “100%. I don’t even have any Kree DNA, I got tested after those fish oil pills started turning people into husks.” You confirmed.

 “What?”

“Oh, Inhumans. They gots little bits of alien DNA and can get superpowers. I was curious, I got my DNA tested. I am utterly, unquestionably human.”

 He looked down at The Tesseract, turning it over in his hand before he looked back up at you.

 “Curious.” He said softly, holding it back out to you.

 “Nah. You keep it.” You grimaced, backing away fearfully.

 “Just take it.” He demanded.

 “No.”

 “Vænn.”

 “Nope, not on your fucking life - LOKI YOU BITCH!” He tossed The Tesseract at you in the middle of your sentence and you had a split second to decide whether to catch it or let it smack you in the face.

 You clutched it in both hands, inches from your nose. Looking up at Loki you found him smirking at you.

 “What the fuck Loki? I could have been vaporised!” You screeched.

 “You weren’t.” He replied calmly.

 “You didn’t know I wouldn’t be!” You protested.

 “You were holding a moment ago, so I did know. I’m not sure how you’re managing it but you are. For all your arguments about how you are nothing special, you appear to attract powerful entities Vænn.” He pointed out smugly.

 “You think The Tesseract has a crush on me?” You frowned.

 “Not that kind of attract. You are like a magnet, pulling power into your orbit.” He said, almost… proudly?

 You scoffed and opened your mouth to rebut his claim but paused and actually thought about it. Of all the places in the city, it was your window that Iron Man flew past on his way to The Tower. The intern you’d taken under your metaphorical wing turned out to be Spiderman. Vision inexplicably turned up in your lab on an almost daily basis. Earths Mightiest Heroes had taken to you without any hesitating. And then of course there was Loki.

 “Huh. Guess I do attract trouble.” You snorted, regarding The Tesseract in a new light.

 You knew without a doubt that you were human, nothing special about you. But apparently fate disagreed, because here you were.

 “So now we have The Tesseract under our control, as it should be. There are still five more stones to obtain, and we will need The Gauntlet. Do you have a plan for talking your friends into handing the Time Stone and The Mind Stone over to us?” He prodded.

 “Well, The Mind Stone is literally in Visions head so… no. And it’s not like we can just waltz up to Earth and ask them to hand the Stones over to us. It would take us months to convince them to trust you and we just don’t have that kind of time. Maybe we should leave those two till last. At least we know they’re safe. You don’t happen to have any idea where the other three are, do you?” You shrugged.

 He held his hand for The Tesseract with a smirk. You happily handed it over, grateful not to be touching it anymore.

 “I know exactly where The Aether is but obtaining it will not be easy. We will need to be careful, we will need a plan. I suggest we take refuge somewhere safer while we decide how to get it away from The Collector.” He told you, holding out his hand to you.

 “Wait.” You said softly.

 He didn’t have to ask what he was waiting for, he knew what you were planning and only rolled his eyes ever so slightly as you backed away.

 “Hey, um… We’re leaving now. Would you, would you like to come with us?” You asked gently as you approached The Stranger.

 They hadn’t moved since you’d wandered after Loki and they didn’t move when you spoke. Shining blue eyes gazed into the distance, bearing witness to the lingering death of their home world.

 “We can take you anywhere. You don’t have to stay here.” You whispered.

 “You are standing in the remains of the temple I have spent my life worshipping in. The Temple may be gone but I am not, so I remain. My world will not die unwitnessed.” They finally answered.

 “Your world isn’t going to die at all. We’re going to fix this.” You promised.

 Because if you could reboot the Universe, you could reboot it to the point before anything went wrong and no worlds would fall to the terrible destruction you had witnessed. You weren’t going to bring those worlds back, you were going to ensure they never fell in the first place.

 If fate kept putting you in the path of powerful people, if fate had led you to Avengers tower then this was the reason. The Tesseract chose you to help Loki, and this was the only way you could think that you would be of any use.

 So you didn’t feel bad as you walked away from the lonely Stranger. As you placed your hand in Loki’s, you let go of all the pain of not being able to save the fuzzy Druffs. It didn’t matter anymore, none of it mattered. You might not be a hero, but Loki could be. And you, you would be the Tech Support.

 He gently scooped your slumbering Winnie from his pocket and gave him back to you, watching as you secured the little dreaming Grofflink in your own pocket before he laced his fingers with yours, and then in a blinding flash of blue you left Taa and the Stranger behind.

A/N - What's this? A second chapter in one day? :OBeen a while since I pulled one of these!Honestly, I just got kinda giddy reading all the comments and needed to give you (and myself) more! You guys deserve all the chapters I can give for being so supportive and lovely 💖💖💖

Loki Taglist (Open)  @myfandomlife-blog @unfriendlyrightfighter @cateyes315 @ibraggins27 @midgardian-mistress @cinnamonmouse8 @nonsensicalobsessions @sarahs-castle-of-clouds @elizabethlaufeyson @sarahs-castle-of-clouds @marvelsangels @queenneso @elizabethlaufeyson @superdoggo-39

Everything Taglist (Closed) 

@helloimanavenger​ @justahumblesinner @littleredstarfish​ @dark-angel-be-thirsty-af​ @dilaila95​ @buckysknifecollection​ @justellu​ @spnrvt​ @deathofmissjackson​ @sexyvixen7​ @fairislesheets​ @rvgrsbrns​ @dahkness​ @sleepycayley​ @isabelcrichards​ @riverdaleserpent04​ @jazztherebel​ @tell-me-a-poem​ @hiddles-rose​ @severepienerdturkey​ @life-wanderer​ @unlikelygalaxygiver​ @fangirlwithatrowel​ @abo4280ooof​ @destiel-artemis​ @dilaila95​ @tarastudiesalot​ @toxic-pineapple​ @ohnosiren​ @for-the-love-of-the-fandom​ @breezy1415​ @misswatson99​ @chaoticfiretaconerd​ @marvelfansworld​ @stareyedplanet​ @themusingsofmany​ @zeannastardust​ @littleredstarfish​ @sammyissassy​ @alexakeyloveloki​ @kaz22992​ @randomidiot4444​ @musingpredilection​ @inquisitor-selvala​ @lianadelphius​ @happybookmuffin​ @tony-stank3​ @amoonagedaydreamer​ @dropthepizza346​ @my-drowning-in-time​ @lianadelphius​ @musingpredilection​ @belles-garden​ @lieswithoutfairytales​

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@get-the-salt-now​ @myownviperroom @iamnowspider-fanbitch @jn-wolf @evythepokemontrainer @pink-meraki​ @lookalivefrosty​ @delicatelygloriouspenguin​ @maaryisafangirl​ @kaetastic​ @lokis-high-priestess @lisaspageofstuff​ @it-jinxed-us​ @hanniballecters​ @pandness​ @condy-wants-a-cookie​ @jessieray98​ @darkangeldesignstudio​ @rjohnson1280​ @cateyes315​ @pandacookieowo​ @petra-arkanian-1497​ @unfriendlyrightfighter​ @termaks @inquisitor-selvala​ @aurorawitchcraft​ @myfandomlife-blog​ @casket-of-ancient-mischief​ @severepienerdturkey​ @oldspirit​ @iwritesmutsandfluff​ @myfandomlife-blog​ @call-me-ziphon​ @noshi-chan​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @alexakeyloveloki​ @donteatmycookiesplease​ @midgardian-mistress​ @humbledarkness​ @bionic-otp​ @sammy-jo1977​ @lieswithoutfairytales​ @thankyouforanonymity​

[canonconspiracy]

Past Tense I, 2, 3 (Pete White x Reader)

Fandom: Venture Bros

Pairing: Pete White x (Unspecified-ish) Reader

Word Count: 5,035

Cross Posted on Ao3 and Wattpad under rmorningstar21.

AN: I previously wrote a short One Shot of this months ago, and upon reviewing it, I decided to go through and rewrite it.  Part 1 is under the old entry of it on both Wattpad and Ao3, while the other two parts are under new entries.  I’m happy about this one, so I thought I’d share it on here as well. Feel free to check out my full collection either on Ao3 or Wattpad!  I’m hoping to get back into writing for the fandom more often once more.

Funerals had never been your cup of tea, and yet, the moment you were informed of your buddy Mike Sorayama’s passing, you booked the next flight.  Work was placed down, a sense of morbid nostalgia around the idea of attending the funeral for the man.  Though you had been Leslie’s roommate in college, and close with the boys, you drifted after Rusty had left for his father’s funeral.  Nothing had been the same between the group with himself and his freshman roommate gone, and you had only had Leslie for quite some time.  No matter how many times you had passed red eyes in the hallway, or caught a glimpse of the snubbish brunette with the man slave, you could not recall another word spoken to anyone from the original group.  

As one of the first people in the church, you sat on the right side of the pews, silently in your funeral garb to pay your respect.  The room had been silent at first, a simple nod from the funeral director as you entered and took your seat.  You clasped your hands together patiently, your gaze shifting from the picture of your old colleague to your own hands.  In your own little world, you practically jumped as you felt a gentle hand tap your shoulder.  Y/e/c orbs shifting upwards, for a moment your breath hitched in your throat. 

“Y/N?” the white haired male questioned, a little shock in his tone as he glanced down upon you.  A gentle, half smile tugged at his lips as he moved to take a seat beside you, taking the edge of the pew as he did.  “I’m shocked to see you here.”  His voice had been merely a whisper as he spoke, though it caused your heart to race the same childish way that it had back in college.  

You merely nodded, hoping the blush that heated your cheeks hadn’t been visible as your gaze shifted back to the picture of your old friend.  “I could say the same,” you whispered in reply, biting your lip as you spoke.  Your heart held a mix of melancholy, atop a strange feeling that swirled in your gut as you sat beside the albino that you used to laugh and joke with.  Though your voice had been soft, it had remained with an err of professionalism you never thought you’d speak to the male in.  

“I, uh, well, it’s nice to see you,” he said, trying to force his lips upwards as his hand rested upon your folded hands for a moment, catching your attention once more.  The touch had been brief, though the crimson in your cheeks darkened as your y/e/c gaze only met his red stare for a moment.  “Under different circumstances would have been nicer.”

You allowed a hollow chuckle to escape your lips, though they did not turn upwards as you kept your gaze averted.  “Yeah,” you replied, “funerals aren’t the best reunions, but it couldn’t be helped.”  With that, you shrugged, your y/e/c orbs moving back to his red eyes as you forced your lips to curl upwards the slightest bit.  “I…”  Pausing for a moment, you tried to form your words around that sinking feeling in your chest.  “It’s nice to see you again, too, Pete.”

His lips curled upwards the slightest bit at your words, though any words he thought to speak were quickly quelled by the more obnoxious entrance of two boys and two men.  For a moment, you hadn’t even recognized the balded male as he practically threw his hands up in the air upon his gaze meeting your face.  “Y/N, is that really you?!” he exclaimed, a little too loudly for a funeral.  “God, how long has it been-?  You look great.  Oh, and you’re here too, White.”

You couldn’t help cringing at his loud words, Pete shooting a glare in his direction.  Though his looks hadn’t sparked any sort of memory for you, the moment he opened his mouth, you knew exactly who it was.  “I-uh,” you started uncomfortably, as the male had already moved to sit beside you, his sons sitting behind the three of you.  Your voice had been a whisper, though your slight cringe had been evident by your facial expression.  “Hey, Rust.  Yeah, it’s been a while.”

As they had all finally sat down, the two sons of Rusty moving around much too frequently in the pews behind the four of you, the funeral director began his speech.  Practically feeling the heat radiating off of Rusty, you shifted yourself to sit the slightest bit closer to Pete, unaware of the gentle upturn of his lips as you did.  Allowing a soft, silent sigh to slip past your lips, your eyes had been fixated upon the picture of Mike as the funeral director spoke.  

Behind you, you could already hear one of the boys speak in a shaken tone, “Funerals are creepy,” causing you to stiffen your lips the slightest bit.  

“What’s the big deal?” the other replied nonchalantly.  “You see dead guys all the time.”

“When?” the other exclaimed.

“Dude, just last week Brock killed two dervishes with a pillowcase full of cokes right in our own bedroom!” the other replied, perking your ears up the slightest bit.  

You hadn’t originally recognized the other male who had journeyed in with Rusty, but now you were confirmed that the sense of familiarity had been from the fact that it was actually him.  It was almost alarming, being so close to the old group, and yet melancholic that it had been at one of their funerals.  It could have been any of us, you thought with a heavy heart, but I’m still shocked they all came.  

“He just knocked them out,” the other boy replied, clearly a little shocked as he spoke.  

The other allowed an aggravated exclamation to escape his lips as you could feel the gentle breeze of his hands going up to his head.  “Oh, sing yourself another lullaby, baby Dean,” the boy exclaimed.  “The police took them away in body bags!”  

“Sleeping bags!” the one who was called Dean exclaimed, practically in your ear.  “They were sleeping bags!”

As the boys continued, you visibly drew into yourself the slightest bit, irritation, yet melancholy against your features.  You could feel the gentle hand of Pete against your thigh, causing your gaze to glance over to him for a moment.  Meeting his sympathetic gaze, you sighed softly to yourself.  Though it had only been a soft comfort, your cheeks began to heat once more with blush, no matter how much you attempted to suppress it.  

“Hey pop,” the blonde said, leaning over to where you had to practically move yourself closer to Pete so he wouldn’t have been on top of you.  “Are we like related to this guy?  I mean, am I supposed to be all sad and stuff?”

“No, Hank,” Rusty said in reply, glancing back upon his son.  “He’s someone your father knows from college.”

“Wow,” Dean replied, “Is that back when you had hair?”

Rusty sighed, turning back to face the front as his brows knit the slightest bit.  “Yes, I had hair then, Dean,” he replied exhaustedly.  Raising his eyebrow, his lips curled into the slightest smirk as he began to recall an old time back when he was in college, continuing in almost a dream-like tone.  “Some say, too much.”

The point you had been involved in the first flashback, you and Pete had been turning the corner, almost walking into Rusty’s room.  Rusty had been going on and on about how robots would be a dying field - simply a fad - to Mike Sorayama.  Your ears had picked up about him talking about how Mike had been doing Leslie’s homework shortly as you were walking into the room, Pete by your side.  Pete said, without couth, of course, “That’s cause he’s got a tiny chiney chubby for her!”  As the two of you walked in, Pete raised his hand to wave, a smile against his braced teeth.  “Hey fellas!”

You found yourself giggling at Pete’s words, though you held your own hand up as you rolled your eyes at his words.  “Hey guys,” you said in greeting, before shoving Pete gently at the arm and glaring at him.  Glancing over to Mike, you said with a smirk against your lips.  “I could always just talk to her for you, Mikey, unless you want to do all her homework until graduation.”

“You were there too, Mr. White?” Dean said in shock.  “And you, um…”

“Oh, yeah,” Pete replied quickly, a smile against his face.  “I was the DJ for the college radio station.”  He moved to wrap his arm right around you, taking you by surprise as you felt yourself pulled close to his lithe frame.  “And Y/N here was my cohost.”  

Though his arm did not stay on you for long, you felt blush rise in your cheeks at his words, your y/e/c gaze shifting to Pete for a moment as a brief smile slipped across your lips.   

Unfortunately your moment was quickly trumped by the blond Venture asking, "What's a tiny Chiney chubby?" 

"So, you, pop, and this dead guy were all, like, roommates?" Dean asked.  

"No, no," Rusty replied hastily.  "They just hung out in my room a lot.  Y/N, too.  My roommate was…"  He went into another story, talking about how White, you, and Rusty were all in the room as you talked about the roommate that Rusty had a freshman as a roommate. 

You could remember your college days as if they were merely yesterday, and yet they were so far from you.  Lying back on Rusty’s bed, you stared up at the top bunk as you were beside Pete, whom had been sitting up straight.  Neither of you said a word as you listened to Rusty walking around venting about the roommate that the university had assigned him.  

“A freshman!” Rusty exclaimed, throwing his hands down as he stood, closer to Pete than yourself.  You could practically hear his hand motions as he spoke, though you had to bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing.  “Can you believe that?  That’s all I need, some kid tagging along, all wanting me to show him the ropes.  It’s totally going to harsh the vibe of Casa de Venture.”

The point that he finished speaking, you moved to sit up beside Pete, practically leaning on him as you glanced over to Rusty.  “I bet he’s a total spaz-case,” you hummed out, chuckling softly.  “Hopefully he just has a different schedule than you.”

“So, Is he a spaz or what?” Pete chimed in, a smile brimming on his own features.  “I’m sure Y/N would scare him off for ya if ya want.”

You glared at Pete, though you playfully pouted as well.  “Yeah, I’m totally people-repellent,” you replied sarcastically.  

“I don’t even know,” Rusty replied exhaustedly, motioning to the bags in the corner of the room.  “He moved his stuff in when I wasn’t here.  But, dig, his name is Brock Samson.  Can you imagine?  Ten bucks says he’s a fat kid.” 

"Wait, you lived with Brock?" Hank asked excitedly.  "That is so unbelievably cool." 

"No wonder you guys are such super pals!" Dean chimed in, causing you to roll your eyes.

"Actually, back then we didn't see much of each other," Rusty explained to his boys.  "We had very different schedules, always coming and going at different times."

You remember how the two of them actually interacted for the most part, especially since despite Brock being younger than all of you, he was definitely considered a jock.  Despite you, the rest of them were beneath him.  When he realized that he couldn't take you to bed in school, you were beneath him as well.  

"Tell them who really won the roommate lottery that year," Pete said, causing you to laugh.

"Oh, god, don't remind me," Rusty said with a chuckle.  

"Okay, so the university sticks me with this exchange student," Pete started, telling the boys the story. 

You were sitting cross-legged on the floor beside Pete’s chair as Mike and Rusty were both sitting upon Rusty’s bed, listening to Pete talking about Verner, specifically about his new manservant.  “You know what he got?” Pete exclaimed.  “A personal slave!  The poor guy sleeps in my closet.”  Pausing, all attention was turned to the doorway as Verner was walking past.  “Oh, speak of the dickweed.  Hey, Verner!”

"Baron Underbheit!" Dean exclaimed quickly, interrupting Pete's flashback. 

"Yeah," Pete said, deflated.  "You told them?" 

"No!" Dean exclaimed.  "Baron Underbheit is right there!"  

“Holy crap!” Hank exclaimed.  “Brock, kick his butt!”

As the boy pointed, everyone's attention was brought to the broad shouldered, armor clad man as he walked to sit on the other side of the pews.  You kind of spaced out as the boys were telling Brock to kick his ass, as you felt Pete unconsciously lean a little closer to you as he looked.  Why after all these years you still felt the same effect you did back in college was beyond you, but in a sense, Pete was your first...and really, only love.

“Relax boys,” Brock replied in an exhausted tone.  “He’s not going to do anything.  It’s hallowed ground.”

"So, what was he like in the olden days?" Hank suddenly asked, causing your attention to be brought back to reality.  

"Well, except for the metal jaw, pretty much the same total dick," Pete said quickly.  

You scoffed with a smile, saying, "I swear that's an understatement." 

“The tape was on the floor for a reason, Peter,” Verner fumed, the two of you standing in Rusty’s doorway as the man spoke.  “Your things belong on your side of the room, and don’t think I haven’t noticed that you moved it to make your area larger!  If you can’t obey the simplest of rules-”

“Let me stop you right there, buddy,” you chimed in, a smirk forming against your lips as your arms were folded over your chest.  “I don’t know how things work in your far away, magical land, but you can’t impose your own stupid rules on him.  Your not the prince of SU- here, you’re just a selfish bastard.”

“Yeah, you don’t make the rules, fella!” Pete said defiantly, standing beside you.  “You may be a big-shot in your country, but over here you’re just the kid with the weirdest smelling lunch.”

Verner held his arms above him as he let out what seemed to be a roar, before his gaze shifted back to the two of you.  Eyes narrowing upon you two, he spoke in a snippy tone.  “Very well,” he said, drawing closer to Pete as he practically was on top of him.  “Then you leave me no choice but to take this up to the R.A. at the next floor meeting.”

“Good luck,” you said rolling your eyes, before pulling Pete by the arm back into Rusty’s room, your eyes shifting to glare at Verner.

The last thing that Verner had said to the two of you, his eyes narrowed upon you, was, "Keep your albino slave on a tighter leash." 

"How many times do I have to tell you, fella, I'm not a slave," Pete said, clearly aggravated by the accusation.  

You simply placed your hand on Pete's shoulder, giving him a soft smile as you did.  "No, you're not, but you can't let that dick get to you," you said soothingly as the two of you walked further into Rusty's dorm room, finally shutting the door on Verner.  

“Who cuts his hair?” Rusty said laughing.  “The incredible hulk?”

“What, did he walk into the barber shop and say what can you do to make me look more like Pete Rose?” Pete joked, his spirits the slightest bit lifted as he spoke.  

You rolled your eyes, chuckling, as you said, “I’m sure he just asked to make sure he never got laid.”

“Hey!” Mike chimed in, a frown against his lips.  “What’s wrong with his hair?  I have like the same haircut.”

“Yeah, but you’re chinese,” Rusty replied, leaning over the back of his chair.  “You people can’t be blamed for what your hair does.”

“I’m japanese, jerk-off,” Mike replied sharply, before shrugging.  “But, yeah, so true.  At least I don’t have his eyebrows.”

“You want to see eyebrows?” Rusty started, bringing up the Monarch in creative writing as an example.

"Okay, this is getting nuts," you heard Hank say quickly as the story came to its conclusion.  "You are not going to tell me you went to college with the Monarch, too."  

"He even hit on me in creative writing class," you said with a shudder, followed by a chuckle.  

"Where did you guys go, super crazy, no way school?" Hank said, exasperated.  

"It was Michael's last wish that he be escorted to his eternal resting place by those who were closest to him in life," the funeral director finally said.  "T.S. Venture, Peter White, Y/N L/N, Verner Underbheit, Brock Sampson, if you would, please."  

Lining up for the coffin carrying, you were positioned closer to Pete, with Verner behind you.  Though it had initially been a struggle for the front to keep their side up, Rusty basically dropped the casket for the two of you to struggle to keep the rest of the front up for a moment.  As the three of you managed to get the casket sturdied once more in the front, it took mere moments for the chains to extend from the casket itself.  As the metal clamped down upon your wrist, a purple fume instantly made your vision go black.

***

As you woke from your comatose state, you could feel a strong, metal collar wrapped around your neck.  The world became visible once more, and you realized you were seated beside Pete, with Verner on the other side of you.  Across the room, Brock and Rusty were seated.  "Well, this is not the kind of kinky I'm into," you muttered under your breath, trying to use humor to feel a little better about the whole situation.  Frowning, you glanced over to Pete, before your attention was taken back quickly by Brock.

In a growl, Brock began standing as he practically lept towards Verner, exclaiming, "You did this.  You did this, didn't you?"  

As he fought against the restraints, Rusty was taken against the wall with his own restraints, choking as he gripped at the choker.  Desperately, he attempted to be set free, all to no avail, as he flailed around.  This had taken both yours and Pete’s attention for a few moments, until you were suddenly pulled back towards the wall sharply.  

"As usual, your detective skills are impeccable, Sampson," Verner said, pulling the chain that the three of you were tied to as he stood.  "You've succeeded in exposing my sinister plan to lock myself in a dungeon, chained to an albino and his puny master." 

The cold stone hit your back hard as the metal collar tightened against your neck.  In this moment, you could not even glance over to check on Pete, nor focus upon anything despite the tightening of your own restraint.  Flailing yourself, you found yourself lacking breath and gasping for air.

As Brock realized what was going on, he returned back to his seat, Verner doing the same.  Landing with a thud, you found yourself gasping for air as you glanced over to Pete to check on him as well.  Rubbing your neck with your hand, you turned back to Verner with a glare.  “Pete and I haven’t even spoken since college, Verner,” you spat venomously.  “Could you give up the master and slave stiq?”

When Rusty was recovering, he spat to Brock as he rubbed his own neck, “Great, way to bodyguard,” sarcastically as he frowned.  “Got any more super theories about who did this to us?”

"Oh hey, guys," you could hear Mike's voice say, "It's really you.  I'm so glad you all made it.  Son of a gun, you really surprised me.  I didn't think you'd all show up to my funeral - especially Y/N.  And now I get to return the favor." The five of you watched the screen with what looked like a healthy Mike Soryama.  His voice nearly had humor to it, and yet deep inside of it was the true darkness, possibly of someone crazed from years of obsession.  As he spoke your name, though, a shiver sent down your spine, something nearly twisted about it.  

Before he was able to say anything else, the dungeon door opened with a loud thud.  As it had, female robots began filing in, holding trays of what you could barely recognize as the old college meals you would get at SU.  Each robot, totaling in 5, brought trays and set them beside each of you.  

“Eat up, guys,” Mike said over the television once more, something almost sadistic about his words.  “This is your last meal.  I had it brought in special from the State University dining hall.”

“Mike, it’s nice to see you not dead and all,” Rusty started, after taking a glance to his food, and back to the screen before continuing, “but are you going to tell us why you’ve got us chained up in a dungeon?”  

“Yeah, Pally, what the hell?” Pete chimed in.  

Crossing your arms against your chest, you raised an eyebrow to the screen as you said, “Don’t tell me this is about her.”

The robots all said, “Enjoy,” in synchronization, before standing erect, getting ready to leave.  

“Thank you, ladies,” Mike said, ignoring everyone’s comments.  

“You’re welcome, Mike,” the robots replied.  “We love you, Mike.”

As the robots left the room, Mike smiled as he spoke.  “Aren’t my robots beautiful?” he said, almost dreamily, before his voice turned serious.  “Notice anything familiar about them?”

“Yeah, I had that issue with heavy metal, too,” Rusty replied in a bored tone.  “Now, will you quit screwing around, Mike, and tell us what this is all about?”

“They are what this is all about,” Mike replied.  “Look closely at their faces.”

“Why don’t you just call her like a normal person?” you spat coldly, your glare apparent on your face.  “Instead of chaining us up over a woman with her own free will?  I offered you, how many times, that I could go and talk to her myself for you?”

“Wait, you made Leslie Cohen robots?” Brock chimed in, finally realizing exactly what the robots looked like.  

“Yeah, I think I did a pretty good job,” Mike replied smugly.  “And Y/N, that’s a lot coming from you.”  A laugh escaped his lips as his gaze turned to you, a smirk stretching across his lips.  “I loved her, and you should know more than anyone in this room how necessary this is!”

“I mean, I’d never go saw on my friends,” you replied adamantly.  “Despite your little get together, I’ve put college behind me.  You could let us all go and do the same.”

“No!” he exclaimed in frustration.  “I need to make you all pay for what you did to me!”

“What did we do to you?” Verner replied in frustration.

“Funny you should ask, Verner,” Mike replied darkly.  “I have a list, and you’re first.”

In the flashback, you had been the one to fake the oregano bit first.  Taking a drag of the fake weed in the bong, you pretended as if you had been getting a high from it, laying your head on Pete’s lap as you handed the fake weed to Mike.  You had the slightest bit of blush against your cheeks as you laid there, your eyes shifting over to Mike as the four of you watched him inhale a hit of the oregano.  

“You like it?” Verner asked after a few moments, after Mike took his inhale.  “Pure Underlandian sesame.”

“You’re right, Underbheit,” Mike said with a smile, glancing back at you who had already been pretending to relax after your supposed hit, before glancing at Verner.  “This is some good stuff.”  

It was hard to keep yourself from laughing, though you rolled your eyes as you glanced up to Pete, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips as you did.  Your gaze met his red eyes for a moment, and you could feel your breath practically hitched in your throat.  “You’re cute from this angle,” you smirked in jest, winking as you did.  Though it hadn’t been a lie, any sort of compliment towards the albino had always been in jest, your own nerves not allowing yourself to admit your attraction.  

“That must be that Underlandian sesame,” Pete jested in return, rolling his eyes as he glanced back over to the group.  

“Hey, that rhymes-,” Mike continued, a smile still prominent against his lips.  “Right, Underbheit.”  It took mere seconds for Mike to start laughing, practically curled into a ball on the floor as he laughed.  His laughter was long, uncontrollable, as he began rolling back and forth.  

You moved to sit up, before the four of you all hovered over top of Mike.  In unison, you exclaimed, “Psych!”  

Verner quickly added in, “It’s oregano,” before the four of you started laughing.  “You’ve been smoking a lie, you tiny fool.”

Mike began to cough as he was still curled up on the floor, causing Pete to chime in once more.  “Come on, Mike,” he said, rolling his eyes.  “You’re not high.  Give it up.”

“Uh, Mike?” you questioned, quirking a brow as you leaned down to get a better look as he turned over.  Your eyes immediately landed on his puffed out cheeks, something that had clearly been an allergic reaction.  

“Allergic...oregano,” Mike confirmed as he was still holding himself tightly on the floor.

“It wasn’t funny,” Mike spoke seriously in real time.  “I could have died, Verner.  More importantly, I had to cancel my study date with Leslie.”  

“That’s it!” Verner exclaimed in aggravation.  “I will tolerate no more of this madness!”  As he spoke, you felt your heart drop into your stomach, watching the male’s metal jaw fly off of his face, attempting to hit one of the Leslie bots.  Within seconds, he had already been standing, the two of you gasping for air as he pulled the chain.  It only took a few more seconds for him to be shocked by a Leslie bot, set back upon his ass as the two of you gasped for breath.  

Pete moved his hand to your shoulder, causing your attention to shift back to him as you were still the slightest bit dizzy from being choked.  “How are ya holding up?” he whispered to you, his red eyes filled with concern as his lips had been turned downward.  His hand hadn’t moved from your shoulder as his eyes shifted to your collar, which had already made a noticeable red mark against your skin the last time you were brought upwards in the choke.  

A pained chuckle escaped your lips as you forced them upwards into a half smile.  “I’m fine, Pete, thanks,” you replied softly, a clear lie, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell the truth.  You felt dizzy, pain clear in your throat, and you were chained down in a basement full of nostalgia.  “Are you?”

Pete finally moved his hand from your shoulder, but instead of taking it back for himself, he moved to grab your hand in a comforting manner.  Forcing a half smile upon his own face, he nodded, though his grip had been tight.  He clearly was pulling for some sort of comfort out of you, while attempting to do the same for you, causing your heart to tighten in your chest.   

Next on Mike’s list was Pete, and the memory he brought to life was the last day the two of you were hosting The White Room back in SU.  You sat on Pete’s right side as the red light came on, signaling that the two of you had been on the air.  Watching as his face read of excitement, you couldn’t help the smile against your own lips.  

“You’re listening to the White Room,” he spoke into the intercom enthusiastically.  “I’m your host, the ever popular Pete White, with my radiant cohost Y/N L/N.”

“Pete, smooth as always,” you jested, sending a wink in his direction as your cheeks heat up with the slightest tint of blush.  “It looks like we have a cute submission today.  Would you care to read it?”

“I would be delighted,” he replied, barely able to contain his laughter as you slipped him the card that he had written.  For a second, he bit his lip to attempt to calm himself, glancing over to you with a smirk upon his face.  “This next one’s a dedication to Leslie Cohen from her little buddy Mike Sorayama.”  By this point, his lips were curled upwards so much, it had been hard for him to keep his composure, but you had your hand already clasped over your face to prevent yourself from laughing as your eyes watched Pete.  “And he writes, Leslie, I masturbate furiously to your picture every night.  Please notice me, Love, Mike.”  

At the point that he finished that one, he quickly changed the station to some music as the two of you broke down laughing in the studio room.  Though it hadn’t taken long for the campus security to burst into your studio and kick the two of you off of the air, the two of you laughed while it had lasted, grinning at one another as you did.  As you remembered, being kicked off the air had been quite a kick to the two of your spirits.  

“Hey, we got kicked off the air for that!” Pete snapped at Mike quickly.  “Isn’t that enough?”

“Not by a long shot, Pete,” Mike replied darkly as Rusty had been laughing through the whole ordeal.  “And you, Y/N, you could have stopped him.  You encouraged him, and then you were laughing it up in your dorm room with Leslie afterwards.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes as your lips tightened.  “Leslie was laughing about it,” you said sternly.  “That in itself should be a good reason to let us off.  She knew it was a joke, and she knew that it was something that we set up.  We didn’t do anything bad.”

“But you, Y/N,” Mike replied darkly.  “You taunted me for the same thing you couldn’t do, and then you left us all.  You were the biggest hypocrite of them all.”

“Surely,” you replied with an eye roll.  “But I wanted you to have what I couldn’t.  Isn’t that what a friend is supposed to do?”

“What, you wanted Leslie, too?” Rusty said, now in a full burst of laughter.  “I never pegged you for her type.”

“No, she didn’t want Leslie,” Mike said with a dark laugh.  “And you’re next on my list, so shall we recall your blunder?”

“Oh, please don’t,” you said with a cringe, retracting your hand from Pete as you sunk further into your seat, your eyes closed.  

“I’m sorry, Mike,” Leslie said uncomfortably as she stood beside you.  “I have to postpone.  This is important.”

“I-it’s okay, Leslie,��� Mike replied, clearly disheartened as he shot a glare your way, watching the two of you retreating into your dorms.  Though the two of you thought that he had left, he stood outside of the dorm room, his ear cupped to the door.  He listened as the two of you shifted to sit upon the bed, his eyes widened.  

Leslie was the first one to speak, sitting beside you with a concerned smile against her lips.  “Y/N, you have to just tell him,” she said in a soft, sweet manner as her eyes glanced to you.  “I’m not sure you have any real competition, but you can’t keep doing this to yourself.  I see the way you look at him, and the way you look when you talk about him.  Y/N, you love him.”

“I-,” you started, before you could already feel yourself starting to tear up.  Your voice quickly turned more hesitant as tears stained your face.  “If I do, I could lose him, Leslie.  He just sees me as one of the guys.  That’s all I’ll ever be.”

“Hey, no, no,” Leslie said in a comforting manner, placing her arm around your shoulder as she did.  “You and I both know that you’re awesome.  I don’t hang out with you guys.  From the outside looking in, the two of you make a great couple.”

“It’s not that easy, Les,” you replied softly, wiping your eyes as the tears kept flowing.  “If I tell him, I could ruin everything.  I highly doubt you want me just chilling around you as I hide from the boys after embarrassing myself so much.”

“Well, I’m sure Mike wouldn’t be happy about that,” she replied with a laugh, “but you know, if it actually came down to that, I’m here for you.  You know that.  I still say the two of you would be cute together.  Weird tastes, sure, but if you love him, you can’t keep yourself in the dark.”

“Leslie cancelled on me to talk to you, Y/N, and you never even did it, did you?” Mike said darkly, glancing over at you in a rage.  “I listened to it all, you sitting there pouring your heart out to my Leslie and taking her time away from me.”

“I,” you started, your y/e/c eyes glaring at the screen as you sunk in your seat as far as you could without actually pulling the chains.  “Yeah, okay, I was a coward, fantastic.  You caught me.  I wasted time, but so did you.  You could have just approached her like a normal human being.  It’s not like you were too close and were going to make things awkward by confessing to her.”

“Wait, who are you guys talking about?” Rusty said curiously, shifting his eyes between Y/N and the screen that held Mike’s image.  “Y/N didn’t date anyone in college.”

“Actually, I did,” you replied softly, your arms crossed once more.  “After I finally gave up the ghost, I dated a few assholes.”

“But no one was the same,” Mike said with a laugh.  “You couldn’t get over him then, and ha, you aren’t even over him now, are you?”

“No, but if you’re done embarrassing me-,” you started, your eyes fixated darkly to your lap as your lips tightened.  

Mike’s laughter was dark, nearly evil as you felt your heart sink into your stomach.  “No, no, I’m not,” he said in a sadistic tone.  “Tell him, now.”

“Wait, one of us?” Rusty chimed in with confusion. 

Verner was the one to speak next, a slight chuckle to his tone.  “Isn’t it obvious?” he said, motioning to Y/N as he spoke.  “It was obvious in college, and it’s pretty obvious even today.”

“Y/N,” Pete said, quirking a brow as he moved to place a hand against your shoulder to get your attention.  “I’m sure any of us would’a killed to date you in college.  Who’s he talking about?”

Verner started laughing as you found your cheeks heated with blush, though your heart had sunk down to your stomach.  Letting out a hard sigh, your y/e/c orbs glanced into red eyes.  Forcing the words from your mouth, your lips were still turned downwards as you spoke.  “It was you, Pete,” you said, barely above a whisper.  “I didn’t want to lose what we had, and well, I did anyways, but I could never tell you.”

Before the two of you could even talk about it, your heart shattering all over again as you moved yourself back to your own space, Mike Sorayama had moved onto Rusty.  Though he had moved to Rusty, there was not even enough time for him to get into a flashback before Brock had made his way to find Mike and end the nightmare the five of you had delved right into.  Silence was simply filled with bloodshed as your eyes closed, simply listening to Brock taking out whomever and whatever had been outside of the dungeon.  

***

You were not even sure how long the three of you had been chained to the wall without help, before someone finally managed to rescue the three of you.  As you had been chained, you had been silent, reserved as you were chained to the man you loved and the asshole you loathed in college.  Through time, you had even fallen asleep against the albino male, though you felt no words coming from your mouth to explain yourself.  The two of you had simply been a mess of chain and exhaustion, his head against your head as you rested against his shoulder.  At the point that the two of you realized your shackles had been broken, you practically fell to the floor, no longer restrained by Verner and half awake.  

Rubbing your eyes, your hand immediately moved up to your throat, rubbing the spot that still held a red marking, already beginning to bruise.  Everything about this situation had been melancholic, your y/e/c eyes shifting to Pete, who had still been asleep against the wall.  A frown stretched your face as you reached hesitantly out to him, before retracting your hand.  It was back in college, Y/N, you tried to convince yourself as your eyes trailed the handsome figure as he quietly slept.  Nearly twenty years later, and you’re still just as pathetic as you were.  

Sucking in a deep breath, you moved to Pete, knowing you could not simply carry his slumbering figure out of the dungeon on your own.  Verner had already been gone, and you were not even sure how long the two of you had been free of your restraints by this point.  The smell of blood in the next room caused your body to retract, death being something you wished to free yourself of by this point.  You lived a normal life, yet this, this was not something you were familiar with at all.  

“Hey, Pete,” you finally mustered to say, your voice gentle and timid despite your own discomfort.  “Let’s get out of here.”

“Hu-,” he started, his hand moving to his face as he rubbed his red eyes, before blinking hard.  “How are you free?”  As he questioned it, he moved his hand to his own previous restraint, realizing that the collar had no longer been around his neck either.  His lips had yet to curl upwards, but he had managed to stand to his feet as he glanced around.  “Those jerks left us!”

You found yourself chuckling softly, though the scent of blood in your nostrils still reminded you that the two of you had not been completely free as of yet.  Motioning to the open cell door, you said, “I’m sure they wanted to get out of here, and I’m shocked Verner even took off our collars.”  Starting to walk towards the dungeon opening, you glanced back with melancholy in your eyes.  “Let’s go figure out where we are, and get you home.”

He followed behind you, though he had a touch of concern in his own red eyes.  No matter how much he wished to talk about what had happened in the dungeon, all the words that had been said, he found this to be the worst place to begin.  “It smells like death in here,” he openly said, placing his hand over his face as he walked behind you.  

You simply nodded, before practically pulling him to the exit that you had your eyes fixated upon.  As you saw the brightness of the outdoors, you quickly slipped off your coat, handing it to him.  “I’m sure you don’t have an umbrella on you, so take this,” you said uncomfortably, trying to force a smile against your lips as you did.  “I know it’s not much, but I doubt we’re far from the church.”

He quickly took it, placing it over himself to block the sun with a smile against his lips.  “Thanks, Y/N,” he said softly, though he could feel a tightness in his heart from the way you had been acting.  After you had been so quick to open up to him again, the moment that you confessed in front of him, you closed right back off.  It wasn’t hard for him to notice your hesitation, nor the pain against your features as the two of you barely spoke.  

Once the two of you managed to get to the church, he chuckled sheepishly as he realized that his ride had likely left him as well.  “Uh, Y/N,” he said with an uncomfortable laugh.  “I could buy ya coffee if ya drive me home.”

Unlocking your car, you chuckled in a hollow way as you nodded.  “Not necessary, but I can drive you home,” you said as you motioned for him to get in.  You sat uncomfortably as you started your vehicle, simply glancing once to see that Pete had entered your car and buckled himself up before you began driving.  “Where do you live now, anyways?”

“Over by Rusty’s lab,” he replied uncomfortably.  “I really think we should, you know, talk, Y/N.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” you replied, biting your lip gently as you drove.  “Mike made a fool out of me, and once I drop you off, we can both go back to our lives.”

“Y/N,” he started, before you quickly cut him off.

“Pete, we aren’t in college anymore,” you replied in a strained tone.  “Just because seeing you brings it back, we’ve been out of college for what, twenty, twenty five years.  What do you want out of it, an apology?  I wasn’t going to tell you.”

“Why weren’t ya going to tell me, Y/N?” Pete questioned, his arms moving to press his point as his voice had exasperation laced in it.  “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Because we were so close, Pete,” you replied, your knuckles white from your grip on the steering wheel.  “Because I didn’t want to lose you.  I already did, and we already moved on with our own lives since college.  Even so, it wasn’t easy to tell you.  I’d rather have been the one to break down and say it than let Mike’s horror movie get too far.”

“Did you move on, Y/N?” he questioned, a quirked brow as he gazed upon you.  

You bit your lip hard as you attempted not to cry, the feeling nearly overwhelming as you drove and drove.  For a while, you didn’t even answer him, simply driving as you worked to get him back home.  Through the time that you drove, though you had not answered his question, or simply refused to answer his question, he gave you little directions here and there to get him back home.  It did not take too long of uncomfortable silence for you to end up outside of a trailer in the middle of nowhere.  

As he silently went to leave the car, you finally whispered your answer.  “I didn’t,” you said, your voice cracked as you spoke.  You could feel your whole body shaking, but you attempted to keep yourself as calm as possible.  “Just, so you know, I guess.  Goodbye, Pete.”

At your words, Pete froze, though he removed his hand from the door.  “Turn off the car, Y/N,” he said, his own voice cracked as he found himself biting his own lip.  “Come inside with me.”

Though you had the easy option that you could have just forced him out of your car and driven off far, far away from him, never to see him again, you allowed a huff to escape your lips.  Moving one of your sore knuckles to the key, you turned it off and obliged his request.  “Why?” you asked as you moved to get out of your own car, walking up to the trailer with him.  “I’m sure I’ve made enough of a fool of myself already, Pete.”  

Once the door closed, he discarded the jacket that he was using to protect himself from the sun, and his red eyes met yours.  It had been silent in the trailer, and he stared as you refused to meet his gaze.  A slender hand moved underneath your chin, forcing you to glance up at him.  “Stop being an idiot, Y/N,” he said with an eye roll, before he pressed his lips to your own.  

The action took you aback, frozen in place as you felt your eyes wet with the tears that desperately wished to break the floodgates of your y/e/c orbs.  Closing them, one or two escaped as you moved your lips in sync with his own, the flavor of morning breath and something that was simply his own tantalizing your senses.  You were not even sure the point that your arms wrapped around his neck, sinking into his embrace as you kissed him.  

One of his slender arms slipped around your waist as he pulled you flush to him, kissing you passionately as if this would be the first and last time you would ever connect.  The ferocity of the kiss was astounding, though a little untrained as you both learned one another.  After a while, you could feel your lungs burning with the need for oxygen, panted breaths as the two of you separated.  

“I, um,” you started, a little bewildered as your y/e/c orbs were wide, staring up helplessly at the man you still loved so deeply.  

“I love you, too,” Pete said, his lips curling upwards into a smile as he held you tighter, his red eyes gazing down upon you.  “I don’t just want ya, ya know, running back out of my life.”  A soft chuckle escaped his lips as his thumb moved to caress your cheek.  “I never told you in college, either, and then you stopped hanging around.”

You found your lips curling upwards as you held him tightly, a warmth filling you as you heard his words.  “See, now I wish I didn’t wait twenty some years,” you said with a laugh, “but I’m glad.”

“I bet Mike would be pissed if he knew that weird saw set up actually got us together,” Pete laughed as he rested his head against your own.  “If you have some time, I could make us some coffee.”

“We’ve been in a dungeon for who knows how long, Pete,” you said with an eye roll, a smirk playing against your lips.  “I have all the time in the world.”

[ardentprose]

Trials of Hope

Hoseok x Reader

Genre: Angst

Warning: mention of suicidal thoughts. depictions of depression and panic attacks.

Summary: Progress always comes with setbacks. Among all the good days, one unfortunate night appears in which every coping mechanism fails and you are forced to reach out for help. To be reminded that you are not alone.

Song: Sea by BTS (fanmade lyric video (not mine))

My fingers slide over the phone screen. My thumb trembles as I open the messaging app. In the top three conversations lies his name. Funnily enough, I haven’t texted that much to warrant such a high spot. However, the fact I’m even tapping on his name and staring at the keyboard is its own explanation. 

Hoseok is just short of a friend. But in this moment, he’s all I have. 

Hey, are you up?

After several rewrites I send the text. A shuddering sigh exhales past sore lips, bitten beyond relief and trapped between my teeth even now as I dread the response. Regret floods my chest as soon as the check mark appears. He’s up. Now what do I say?

Hey! I’m up lol. What’s up?

Before I can comprehend it, I’m backpedaling down the cliff from my insistent thoughts and sending a harmless text. 

I’m bored lol. What are you doing? 

This doesn’t concern him. What was I thinking? I shouldn’t be asking him for help when I barely know him. Thoughts such as these overtake my mind, confirming my regret for even contacting him.

I set the phone down on the table and gaze around the unlit space. Only the city lights of night time Seoul flash across the carpet, casting my lonely figure and the living room in a melancholy blue. Under the same blue lights, my roommate Eliza and I lay across one another on the couch, talking about whatever comes to our minds. The muted atmosphere only adds to the domesticity. But now that she’s away, and I’m alone, they’ve become a reminder that each light has a life connected to it. And each one will go to bed with someone they care about close by. 

I tuck my feet beneath me and sink lower into the couch. Closing my eyes doesn’t stop the intrusive thoughts from targeting my psyche. 

You’re such a fool. An idiot for thinking you were strong enough. You’ll never escape this. You’ll always be this way. There will never be an end-

I dive for the vibrating phone on the table and answer it without blinking. 

“Hello?” A harsh sting covers my lip at how raspy my voice sounds. Hopefully, he’ll credit it to the phone signal.

“Hey,” Hoseok’s voice is piqued with interest. “If you’re so bored, why aren’t you asleep?” 

The playful question only presses guilt further in my chest. I pull the phone away to clear my throat and test out the tonality of a voice that’s been crying for the past three hours.

I force a chuckle to cover how miserable I really am. “How about you? What are you doing up so late?”

Hoseok hums and I can see his smile and twinkling eyes clear as day. “I’m working on a new song.” 

“Oh? Really? What’s it about?” Thankful to have a less threatening topic to focus on, I press him for questions in an almost desperate manner. 

He tsks in response. “That’s top secret. You’ll have to wait until it’s released.” 

The deflation in my chest hurts to a point I was not expecting. My smile falters again into trembling lips and I have to pull the phone away once again to look up at the ceiling and blink away hot tears. 

I suppose I just needed something else to take my attention for awhile, but the entire universe seems to be telling me no. 

“Important business, huh?” I retort after collecting myself again. 

A second goes by before a sharp peal of laughter erupts on the receiver. “Yeah! Yes, that’s exactly what it is. Important business. Top secret.”

I smile and yet tears scald my cheeks until they fall from my chin. Pretending to hold a playful conversation with him, as if mere seconds ago the thought of ending myself wasn’t exploding in my head, is too surreal. My throat constricts past the point of speaking and I lower the phone, tapping the speaker before I set it on the table. 

I grab the nearest couch pillow and bury my face into it. With a death like grip, I squeeze the comforting material to me, hoping to suppress the despair coating me in waves.

The silence no doubt passes as a comfortable one in his mind, as he searches for something to say. 

“How is Eliza doing?” He asks.

“She’s...um…” I swallow down another cry and try to gather the latest news she told me. 

“She’s having lots of fun. Yesterday she went to this sushi bar she really wanted to try out.” I say, clinging to the pillow for dear life. There was no way I was going to ruin her day by telling her years of repressed memories came flooding back. Besides, she would worry and take the next flight home.

Hoseok offers an affirmative noise. Some shuffling of papers can be heard and then what I guess is the squeak of his studio chair as he leans back in it. 

“How are you doing?” 

The words cut through the air snatching my breath. I stare at the lit phone screen as my grip becomes tighter. The rope of desperation curls impossibly tight in my stomach. I part my lips, knowing I have to answer in a reasonable amount of time but my mind can’t fathom a believable response short  of “I feel like I might do something I’ll regret.” 

The silence grows too long and Hoseok’s voice repeats the question, now in a softer, confused tone. “Y/N? Are you still there? Are you okay?” 

The question breaks me and I collapse into my hands, tears unabashedly soaking my fingers. Slippery palms fall past my lips and fail to disguise the sob that breaks through in a fractured word. 

“No-

I don’t know if he can hear me, but there’s no way I’ll be able to collect myself again. Should I just hang up and text him? Create some excuse as to why the call was cut short? 

My hands tremble against my face. I press them against my cheeks, feeling how hot my skin is. Sitting up, the clenching of my stomach becomes suffocating. A strangled breath hitches in my chest as everything goes cold. 

Oh no. Shit. Fuck no.

The signs of a panic attack are bypassed completely. Normally, I would have time to talk myself down before it happens. Due to the past few hours, my body has had enough of being repressed. 

“Hos...Hoseok?” I gasp through a temporary burst of oxygen. 

“Yes? Y/N, what’s wrong? Are you crying?” His voice has flown from lax and playful to frightened urgency.

Guilt crushes my response. Instead, I focus on exhaling away the black spots that bloom over my eyes. 

“Sorry...I just...I don’t want to-” 

“Are you home? Do you want me to come over? I’ll be right there. Don’t move, baby, I’m coming. Don’t move. Just...stay there okay?” 

Hoseok ends the call before I can even process his words. Before it dawns on me that he just called me ‘baby’. If I wasn’t fighting to stay conscious, I might be having a completely different breakdown on that alone. 

I shakily stand to my feet, trying to find something to focus on other than the panic numbing me to the core. This wasn’t how I wanted the night to go. I just wanted to sleep. I didn’t want to call Hoseok. I shouldn’t have ever texted him because now-

Now he’ll see me as I really am. 

I stumble to the wall and flick on the lights. I rest my head against the wall and close my eyes, taking deep breaths. Cries faithfully escape my mouth, but I no longer have the strength to mute how pitiful I sound. I gaze around the stark contrast of the room under fluorescents.

I should at least look presentable. I should straighten up. I should wash my face. I could make tea. 

I need to calm down. I need to calm down. I need to calm down. 

All these suggestions make their claim as I sink to the floor and curl in on myself. I focus on breathing deeply, starting over every time a cry cuts short my oxygen. 

Before I’ve gone through the exercise three times, there’s a rapid knocking on the door. 

“Y/N!” Under different circumstances, Hoseok would sound furious rather than panicked. I lift my head, willing myself to at least stop crying long enough to open the door and save some face. 

As soon as I remove the top lock, the door swings open and reveals a distraught Hoseok. Normally put together down to the shoelaces he wears, the disheveled man stands before me anything but. Puffy wide eyes flit all over my face beneath hair sticking up in all directions, some strands falling between his alerted gaze.

He grabs my shoulders, bomber jacket crinkling with the quick motion. 

“What’s happening? Are you alright? Are you hurt? Did someone get hurt? Can I come in?” A volley of questions and his hands push me backwards into the apartment. He slams the door shut with his heel. 

I part my lips but tears only fall in response to all the questions. A horrid choke emits from my throat and Hoseok sighs, nodding his head. 

“I’m here now.” He takes a moment to calm himself down, replacing his worries with his palms sliding down over my shoulders in reassuring squeezes until he grabs my hand in his. 

It’s as if I’ve become paraplegic, subject to only Hoseok’s calm but firm grip situating my body next to his on the couch. He turns on a lamp fully exposing my swollen and distraught eyes. I know how awful I look because I see his eyes widen imperceptibly and his shoulders jerk with an internal gasp. But his mask is more solid than mine and not a word is said about my despairing look. 

He ducks his head so I meet his eyes and when my chin ducks he catches it, ignoring every rule of public decency to raise it in his fingertips and whisper. 

“Look at me. Just breathe with me.” 

I try to inhale but a new wave rises. I grit my teeth. From my shoulders to my stomach, spasms of desperation wrack my body. Hoseok removes his fingertips from my chin and grabs my wrists, yanking on them with gentle urgency brings my palms over his rib cage.

“Y/N. You need to breathe. Feel my chest. Inhale and exhale. Good. Just like that, baby. You can do it.” He repeats his encouragements until with a final shudder I close my eyes and feel the fatigue hit.

“C’mere.” He mutters, collecting me into his chest and resting his chin on top of mine. I inhale his sweet scent, so relaxing and one that embodies the safety of Hoseok to the point I nearly cry again in relief. 

Numbly, I raise my hand to his elbow, gripping the crinkling jacket he still has yet to take off. I turn my forehead to press between his collarbones and sniffle. My nose is disgustingly blocked but he pushes me further against him, as if knowing I was about to draw away. 

“M’sorry.” I whisper into his damp shirt. 

“Don’t apologize.” The words are said with finality and his hand which up until now had been running up and down my back momentarily pauses and presses into my body. 

“Even still,” I raise my head and lean back as far as I can with his arm tucked around my waist. Hoseok gazes down his nose at me, nothing but empathy in his drawn gaze. 

“You shouldn’t have had to see me like this. I shouldn’t have called-”

“I’m glad you called.” He interrupts. “And why shouldn’t you call me? Aren’t we friends? Isn’t that what I’m here for?” His outburst catches me off guard. Had I offended him?

“But-But Hoseok I’m too mu-”

“You’re not nearly enough for me.” Hoseok releases me as if I had burned him. I blink at him several times. The after effects of the panic attack pounds against my skull. I couldn’t decipher the reason his sudden outburst through the oncoming migraine. 

So I say nothing and simply stare. Waiting for him to explain himself.

Hoseok, eyebrows furrowed, eyes wide, and mouth agape, looks at me with the most betrayed expression I have ever seen. 

“Rely on me. I want you to rely on me, Y/N. If I have ever made you feel anything other than safe than tell me, please.” 

“You haven’t. I trust you, Hoseok.” I whisper from a throat raw with abuse.

He runs his hand over his hair and shakes his head. Clearing his throat he looks at me again with a smile and even in the dim lighting of the lamp, I see his blush. 

“I don’t know what’s hurting you and I don’t expect you to tell me. But I do want to know. I want to know you’ll tell someone if you’re not okay. Because I’ve noticed - and not in a creepy way but because I just - uh…” 

For the first time tonight, I smile. Hoseok drops eye contact with me, rubbing the back of his neck as he starts at his mismatched shoes.

“I uh...I care about you and you need to hear that from me. Right? Yes, I care about you more than I have for someone before and- and I think you are one of the strongest people I have ever met. You’re really fucking inspiring even if it feels like you’re just here. B-because I-I can’t even be honest about my true feelings like you can. But every time I hear your story I feel like I can share mine. So don’t stop talking about it. Bu-But you don’t have to tell me...if you don’t want to.” 

He mumbles and smiles and laughs awkwardly but eventually he ends his rambling with a quick glance to my face. 

I meet his nervous expression with one of disbelief. “Me? Strong? Hoseok you don’t even know what I’ve done. I was literally thinking-” 

I cut myself off but Hoseok grabs my hands anyways, gripping them so tightly I resist the urge to wince. His eyes bore into mine and I feel as though he can read my mind, as though he knows exactly what I was going to admit. 

“Y/N.” His voice is shaking. I can’t look at him. 

“Y/N.” Hoarse and pleading. My heart wrenches and before I stop myself I’m meeting Hoseok’s red eyes, wet cheeks and trembling chin. 

“I love you so much. Fuck, I love you. You’re not alone. I’m right here for you.” He swears. The conviction in his voice was more than enough to draw tears to my sore eyes. 

“I-I hate this. I hate this feeling and my thoughts and everything in my life.” The truth comes tumbling out and there’s no stopping it. Somehow, fresh tears stain Hoseok's shirt as I collapse into his awaiting arms. 

“I’ll listen. I’ll listen to all of it. Just tell me everything.” He says in the sweetest, calmest voice I’ve heard him use. 

Stroking my hair, clutching me to his chest close enough to feel his heartbeat against my cheek, I confess my worries, my doubts, my darkness into Hoseok’s chest. I hold onto him for dear life as I whisper all the bad things into the night. And Hoseok, calm as ever, continues to smooth my hair, squeeze my waist, kiss my head and say, 

“It’s alright, love. You’re not alone. I’m right here.”

[scifrey]

2019 Writing Round Up

The new year is here, and with it everyone is talking about what they wrote this past year. The last quarter of 2019 was a brutal rollercoaster for me, emotionally and personally, so it’s good for me to have the chance to sit here and reflect on what I accomplished and the good things that happened too.

2019 started with receiving a grant from the Toronto Arts Council for The Maddening Science – said grant went to research materials for the novel, a new computer, printer, and keyboard, and paying off some debts. But 2019 also started in a place of utter burn-out, having slammed through writing, editing, and publishing five big novels in three years, as well as rewriting a feature film and completing the scripts for three seasons of a webseries.

I was also working two dayjobs – one first thing in the morning, for an hour and a half, and then a standard eight-hour shift in the evenings which got me home at around 10pm – so my sleep schedule was a mess and I was having trouble not only making time to write, but concentrating when I did have the time.

I started the year in a place of complete exhaustion and mild frustration that neither of my book series had really caught on, and as my agent once said, “burned out from tried to break out.”  I’m not happy to say that I think I still occupy that place a full year later; but I’ve had the opportunity to rest more, and begin to refill my creative well again, and to reclaim my writing space by no longer needing a roommate.

I’m not quite there yet – turns out finishing two series in four years really takes it out of you – but maybe in a few more months I’ll be ready to sit down and begin to spin out a new novel. In the mean time, I’ve got lots of irons in the fire, as you’ll see.

January

The first third of 2019 was dedicated to rewriting The Skylark’s Sacrifice a second time. I’d rewritten it in the last third of 2018 and my editor ended up agreeing that while the rewrite was exactly what she asked for, we should not have gone down that street in the first place. It was what was asked of me, but it didn’t work. So I took it back to the drawing board, and started the re-write all over again.

I also published WORDS FOR WRITERS: The DO-ING Trap.

I finished the edits/polish on A Woman of the Sea, which I had begun in October 2018 and loaded the book onto Wattpad in preparation for serializing it.

February

I spent February rewriting and jobhunting. I tried to write a short story and Did Not Do Well. It’s half done and likely to end up on the Pile Of Unfinished Tales.

At least I got some new words on the page with WORDS FOR WRITERS – Beta Readers.

And I began releasing A Woman of the Sea a chapter at a time on Valentine’s Day.

March

I completed the Skylark rewrites and handed them over to Reuts Publications.  I also published WORDS FOR WRITERS – From Signing to Signing.

At this point I tried to start The Maddening Science, the book I received a Toronto Art’s Council Grant for in 2018, and bashed out a few chapters and a few scenes. But something was off about it, and I couldn’t pinpoint why, so I kept going into the file and only put a few hundred words in here and there. I couldn’t really sit down and dig in, and because I don’t believe in Writer’s Block as a mystical magical reason for why people can’t write (there are always reasons), I had to step back to try to figure out why I was struggling. I assumed it was probably because I was in the middle of job interviews and decided to try again later.

April

I started a new copywriting job, leaving my other two dayjobs, and it sucked up all my brainpower and creativity and made it very hard to want to sit down and compose yet more words at the end of the day.

I resumed working piecemeal on The Maddening Science, pecking out what I could one molasses-slow sentence at a time. I realized that the incidents in the news regarding the current political comment and the toxic white supremacist misogyny that is rampant in our society today has made it very hard to figure out how to tell a responsible story about a supervillain as the protagonist.

I’m still working on that. In the mean time, while I figure out how to restructure the tale, the book and the progress blog are on hiatus.

May

Still brain-dead from work, I only managed to bash out WORDS FOR WRITERS: How do social media and writing/publishing work together?

June

There were some final edits on The Skylark’s Sacrifice to be discussed, but I really did nothing this month beyond marketing pushes and watching all the webseries I judged for TOWebfest.

July

The director of my feature film, To a Stranger, was going to start shopping the script around to executive producers, so before he did that I got some actorfriends together to do a table read. The read, and their feedback, revealed some character motivation gaps in the film, and I set about organizing their notes and figuring out how to solve the issues.

I also wrote and published WORDS FOR WRITERS – How To Write a Synopsis.

This was also the month of TOWebfest, the festival itself, and I spent a lovely day with fellow creators and spoke to some executive producers about my own webseries to try to garner interest.

I was a guest at Pretty Heroes Con for the first time and LOVED it. It’s great to celebrate strong female leads in SF/F and I loved Sailor Moon as a kid, so I was in nostalgic nirvana. It was lovely to introduce those Girl Power-loving fans to The Skylark’s Saga.

August

I restructured and rewrote To a Stranger, added extra characters and extra scenes to clear up some character motivation in the screenplay. It’s now back with the director and I hope to hear that he’s got a production house and an Exec attached to the project soon.

I appeared at FanExpo Toronto to do some panels, sell some books, and judged the short fiction contest. I also wrote and published WORDS FOR WRITERS: How to Create a Pitch Package.

September

The Skylark’s Sacrifice was published! Yay! I had a wonderful launch party at Bakka Phoenix, and got to simultaneously launch the incredible book trailer for the duology animated by Elizabeth Hirst to a song by Victor Sierra. Friends Adrianna Prosser and Eric Metzloff, and Danforth Brewery made it extra special.

I also got to read at Word on the Street, which was been a career-long dream, reading on the new Across the Universe Stage.

However, September was also the month when I lost the copywriting job. I saw it coming, so I was shocked when it happened and how it went down, but not surprised. I wasn’t fitting in well with the team, the original project I had been hired for had been vetoed by the execs, work was being taken away from me and given to freelancers, and I didn’t have the training they wanted (though that makes me wonder why they hired me in the first place.) In retrospect it’s been a blessing, as the workplace was not at all a good fit for me and was slowly becoming toxic, but at the time it was a devastating blow to my confidence and my coffers.

Just a few days after I was fired, on my 37th birthday, I won a Watty Award for A Woman of the Sea. Happy birthday to me! I was offered a place among the Wattpad Stars program and accepted – and wow, is there a lot of paperwork for that – and I’m still trying to figure out what benefits the program offers. (Though I’m pretty chuffed with my free Canva Premium subscription!) A Woman of the Sea was featured on the home page as an Undiscovered Gem and as of today has about 82k reads. Whoa!

I also wrote and published WORDS FOR WRITERS: How to Plan a Series.

October

I spent most of the month sleeping and crying and working through how I felt about getting fired. When one identifies oneself as a writer, to finally get a job in writing was a thrill and felt like a confirmation that although I was struggling with my next book, I was a writer and I’d get through it. Being fired from the job – even though the reason was an exec decision to eliminate my project and thus my role – felt like a very personal blow. I wasn’t a writer after all. (Or at least, that’s what it felt like).

This had me thinking long and hard. Especially about where I wanted my writing career to go next – as much I’ve been writing in the realm of SF/F the past decade, I’ve begun to realize that was I really am is a Character-Driven Romance writer. Romance set in spec fic and fantasy realms, sure, but Romance and Character Work are my wheelhouse and how I should be selling myself.

This realization has been pretty freeing because it means that the frustrations and roadblocks I’ve been coming up against can maybe be dissolved by reframing my brand and rethinking my career map.

Wattpad added the sample of City By Night that’s on Wattpad to their Halloween Reads list on the homepage and I decided to put the whole novella up on the site for people to read. Read it now, though. It won’t stay up forever as the eBook rights to the novel are signed with an indie publisher. This is just a limited-time promotion.

And knowing that readers were asking what I would be posting next on Wattpad after A Woman of the Sea, I rejigged Triptych for the site and started serializing it from the start. You can read it here. This story also won’t stay up forever, for the same reason.

I also started serializing Words for Writers on Wattpad. I won’t be copying over all 75+ articles I have on my website, just the ones that are specifically useful for Watties.

I also polished a webseries and sent it to a producer with a major broadcaster after our convo at TOWebfest for consideration. I’ve followed up but there’s no reply. I’ll follow up again in January 2020 but I can pretty well assume that No Answer is my ‘No’ Answer.

I am thinking about maybe pitching it as a graphic novel in the future, though I’m going to have to reach out to my friends who write them for publishers to figure out how to put at pitch together.

November

In 2017 I handed over a YA contemporary re-telling of “Northanger Abbey” to my agent, and it was lukewarmly received by both her and the handful of editors she showed it to. It was then shelved for possible future reworking.

In the first part of the NaNoWriMo month, I decided to tackle this reworking, and I was still wrestling mentally with The Maddening Science. This reworking was inspired a lot by reading Red, White & Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston in October, and realizing that the tone I’d been going for with my narrator hadn’t been irreverent or GenZ-y enough for the story I was trying to tell, and not grounded enough in the technologies and social media that my modern-day Catherine Morland would have access to.

I reworked the Pitch Document for the novel, now currently called “Title TBA”, and got to chapter seven during NaNo. I’ve got some thinking to do about structure for the novel, and how far into using Social Media As A Storytelling Tool I want to go with the idea, but generally speaking I’m pretty pleased with the result of the rewrites.

Partway through NaNo, it occurred to me that there was another story that my Wattpad readers were asking for, and one that would be a lot of fun to write. In A Woman of the Sea, my fictional Regency-era  Jane-Austen-analogue authoress Margaret Goodenough writes her debut novel “The Welshman’s Daughters”. As I describe this non-existent novel in A Woman of the Sea, it’s a gothic romance that’s very Elizabeth Gaskell-and-Jane Austen-esque in terms of it being a character study driven romance, with some of the fun high melodrama and gothic tone of Anne Radcliffe. And, in the world of A Woman of the Sea, it’s the first queer kiss in Classic Western Literature.

A handful of readers have asked where they can find this book, or have confessed to going to the library to ask for it, only to learn that it’s not real. I made it up.

And I thought… well, why not make it real?

So I’m working on the pitch doc and the first chapter now, to see if a) this is something I want to pursue and b) this is something that will help me break through my burn-out slump. I hope it will, but I think I still need to take time to rest before I really push into it.

And I still have the “Title TBA” rewrites to complete.

December

I published WORDS FOR WRITERS: How Do I Get An Agent?, and spent the rest of the month just trying to chill. I’ve become a bit of a reluctant reader, so I am trying to push myself to read a little each day, to remind myself why I fell in love with storytelling in the first place.

A Woman of the Sea was turned down for Paid Stories, unfortunately, because of the structure of the romance. The Stars Team explained that romance stories like this one, with one romantic partner in the first half of the book, and a different one in the second (a la Brigit Jones’ Diary) doesn’t tend to do well on Paid because readers are reluctant to shell out for a romance where they don’t meet the HEA partner until later. It’s heartbreaking to hear, because I was really hoping that this might become a viable stream of income for me. At least the team who turned it down were very kind and expressed how much they loved the story in and of itself.

But no matter – onwards and upwards!

What’s ahead for 2020

Well, I’m not sure. This has been a really, really difficult year and I have really, really struggled with trying to figure out who I am and what I want, both in life and as a writer.

Certainly, there will be lot of hard thinking about the future of my writing career. I have ideas that I love and want to pursue, but this post-firing-return-to-the-job-hunt-depression is killing my desire to create. And honestly, the fact that I’ve worked so hard for so many years and haven’t managed to get any sort of break-through or cultural foothold or ability to even really to pay my bills with this job is disheartening. I’m still paying more in marketing every year than I’m making in Royalties.

However, I have some new opportunities on the horizon – conversations happening behind closed doors, as well as Divine Paradox Films still working toward filming To A Stranger, and Alpaca vs Llama shopping The Skylark’s Song as a teens animated series. And the webseries I wrote is under consideration with a new production team, so I can keep my fingers crossed.

Who knows, perhaps the rewritten “Title TBA” might be just the thing to propel my work into a realm where I’m really earning money. Though I had originally envisioned it as the first of a series, the more I work and think on it, the more I feel like it would be best as a stand-alone. I think it would slap a lot harder if it was a one-off.

And I am genuinely liking the plot of The Welshman’s Daughters, and all the research reading and viewing I am doing to get the tone and mood of the book right (please recommend me your favourite Gothic Romances – film, TV, or books!)

But I’m not going to rush anything. It’s nice to be able to remember how to putter with a book and have no looming, razor-blade deadlines hanging over my neck.

2020 will be, I hope, a year of renewed creativity, motivation, and the year where I complete at least one of the three novel projects I’ve started.

For now, I think I’m going to go have a nap.

*

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[blowingoffsteam2]

Ultimania Updates-SRT

Gathered in one place, here’s the updates from the new Ultimania (and maybe some other tidbits) added to the Sleeping Realm Theory (SRT) doc so far.  The sections these updates are found in are bolded so you can find them within the doc and read the surrounding context:

1.  The Theory Itself

Time travel at KG to save everyone’s hearts has been confirmed by Nomura! Look, see, where we said the second timeline went Save Everyone > Time Travel / Rewind > Xehanort Gay Dies After Decades Long Marriage Dispute, that’s been confirmed!

Q: When we leave the Final World, we are back to the point just before Sora and his friends were defeated. Why is that?

Nomura: “The power of awakening is essentially "the power to put sleeping hearts back the way they were." But the impact of forcing his friends' fading hearts back the way they were rewrote reality, and created a singularity. The rewrite caused the chronology in which they were destroyed to have "never happened." Source

2. Dive to the Heart

Now that the main interview with Nomura has been translated, it’s confirmed a very important thing for this theory.

“Q: The Final World, a place very important to the story, appeared in the game, but what kind of world is it?

A: It is a place where those just a step from death arrive, connected to the Station of Waking. Up until now, the Station of Waking was always a dark place where the floor was made of stained glass, where the condition of the inside of one's heart could be shown, but in this case I made The Final World a place where I could show [that] more concretely, a place similar to a portal to [people's] respective hearts. Within the game, it's said that sleep and death are intimately linked, so if one's heart were in a state of sleep and they found themselves in the Station of Waking, the idea is that if they moved on from there, they would find themselves in The Final World.” - Nomura, KH3 Ultimania.

What this says basically, is to arrive in The Final World during Dive to the Heart in the first place, your heart should already be “in a state of sleep”. Nomura has confirmed, before the first DTTH we see, at the very start of the game we play, Sora is already in a state of sleep.

3. KHII.9(Context: This update is placed in the translation section talking about Riku’s growth from saying his wish is to have “strength protect the things that matter”- “Daiji na mono”- in BBS to “strength to protect my cherished person” in KH3- “Taisetsu na hito”)

The Ultimania actually goes out of its way to explicitly state this growth on Riku’s character page: “‘I want to become strong enough to protect the things that matter.’ Roughly 10 years later, after many twists and turns, he has finally obtained the strength to protect the person who matters.”

4.  KH3 for realsies this time

(Context: This one is in regards to the “logo conspiracy”, just to show that this sort of obscure hinting is not beyond something Nomura would do)

In an interview with Nomura in 2016, he revealed that he hid secret clues in the cover art for 1.5, 2.5, and 2.8. Because of course he did, I guess!

“Nomura: There are actually two secrets about the illustrations from [KH1.5] until [KH2.8]. Extremely attentive KH fans might have already discovered them, but one is that Sora's movements change from sitting, to standing, to walking. One more is that when you line up the three illustrations, you'll notice that they show the flow of time with changes in the sky. [KH1.5] is sunset becoming night, [KH2.5] is the middle of the night, and [KH2.8] is night breaking into dawn. Those three illustrations have a message regarding the final chapter, [KHIII].”

Ultimania Update: Oh boy did you think Nomura was done? Cause he wasn’t!

These party people were confirmed by Nomura in the Ultimania to actually be robed figures, sneakily placed to look apart of the building, people hidden in plain sight. What’s silly is that people had been wondering this exact thing when the box art had been revealed, and that too got shot down on the same premise of “reading too much into it”.

5. The Paopu Fruit

In the Ultimania, Irino (Sora’s VA) stated that they recorded two versions of the paopu scene:

Irino: “We recorded both a sharing scenario and a not sharing scenario. During the editing, it wasn’t decided which [Nomura] would go with, but it seems in the end he went with the sharing scenario.” - KH3 Ultimania VA Interview

In an unseen timeline (the waking/real world) a litany of things could go differently, and while this tidbit could be nothing, it’s at least an interesting note and a fun little fact.

6.  Flowmotion and Attraction Flow

There’s a section showing concept art and planning for Attraction Flows. (thanks to @gummiphoned for the discovery and photos!)

In the bottom corner, there’s an in game concept example. 

With Sora in his DDD outfit.

Set in DDD’s Traverse Town. 

7.  Reality Shift

There’s a section that elaborates a little on the Combined Keyblade, confirming it to be the very same one we see in DDD.

Top Text: "During the special event in the realm of darkness, when Sora and Riku deal the finishing blow against the Demon Tower, the two of them used their fusion keyblade. That keyblade is the same as the one that appeared in 3D."

Bottom Text: "In 3D this fusion keyblade appeared in The World That Never Was when using Reality Shift."

8.  Promotional Materials

Later, official sources started to use a simple but unrelated, specific hashtag.

夢しかない (yume shika nai) translated to “ONLY DREAM” or just “There is only a dream”. The first time it’s used was the 6 days to go countdown

It was then used moving forward in all promotional tweets including release day (PlayStation japan was also using the tag). The last time they used this was the secret movie announcement tweet.

9.  The Secret Ending

This has actually been confirmed by Nomura to take place after KH3 and that when Sora disappears in the ending he arrives here. More or less exactly as we thought.

“Q: I see. Then, continuing on, I'd like to ask about the secret movie; is the location connected to the ending? A: Yes. After disappearing in the ending, Sora arrives in the world shown in the secret movie.” - Nomura, KH3 Ultimania.

10.  Shibuya, Baby!

Nomura also made note that this Shibuya isn’t the original in universe TWEWY world Shibuya. It’s Shibuya, but ~Shibuya~. As in, some kind of alternate version.

“Q: Is the place Sora is in the same world as the one in The World Ends With You?

A: It looks that way. However, rather than saying Sora has gone to the TWEWY world, the meaning is that it's not exactly Shibuya, but ~Shibuya~ (note: this is hard to explain in English, but instead of it being written in kanji, the name for "Shibuya" is written in katakana here. This basically means it's not the same Shibuya as in TWEWY or in the real world.) Also, although Sora promised Neku and his friends that they would meet again in Shibuya, this video is not connected to that.” - Nomura, KH3 Ultimania

11.  Rage Form

From the Dengeki Playstation interview:

--There's a form that appears called "Rage Form," which reminds us of the "Anti Form" from KH2. What is the setup behind that?

Nomura: The forms in this title are very different from that of KH2, so we decided to change all the names. Rage does indeed have characteristics that are reminiscent of Anti, but it's basically a separate thing setup wise. Anti is based on Sora getting completely stained in darkness, but Rage doesn't go quite that far. It's based on him going into a rampage state, controlled by feelings of anger.

12.  Namine

Nomura has since elaborated a little bit on what happens with Namine tho it still doesn’t really answer the biggest question. It’s said that when Kairi took the blow from Xehanort, this set her free (even if we don’t see a heart whatsoever). Nomura plans on explaining it more down the road, apparently.

13.  Xion

Nomura has since stated in an interview that upcoming DLC will go into Xion and how she’s here so, hooray!

[tetrakys]

My rewrite of MCL UL first dates - Nath

Again, similar as what I did for Castiel, the story is still all there, I guess I just wanted something more (I am a greedy person, I know).

In retrospect I might have dressed a little lightly for the night cool weather. I run through the quad rubbing my arms recognising Nath’s silhouette right away, leaning against the campus gate. He was already there.

“Hi…” I said somewhat shyly.

“Hi” he smiled, the picture of calm and nonchalance.

“So, where are we going?”

“To a place you know well…” he motioned me to follow him and we walked side by side for a little while.

“To the Snake Room?”

“No.”

I couldn’t believe it. We were heading to the gym!

“Wh-what? What the… Kim left you the keys?”

“Exactly. At least I know that here, we can talk in peace and quiet.” He locked the door behind us before setting the keys down the countertop. A table was set up smack in the middle of the gym on which covered containers were set. “What’s this?”

“You’re looking at it as if it was going to jump out at you. Sit down, we need to fuel up first…”

“Er… before what?”

“You’re asking way too many questions for the start of a date.”

“A date?” he had confirmed as much in his text, but I still had my doubts. The guy was a mystery.

He pretended not to hear and opened the cardboard boxes in front of us as I sat down at the table. There were two still-steaming hot dogs, chips, two cans of soft drinks, plus cheese and crackers.

“Is that how you feed yourself, Nath? Talk about balanced!”

“What? You expect me to believe you don’t like all that?” he asked raising an eyebrow.

“Sure I do, but now I understand better why you need to come to the gym so often!”

“Bingo!” It was nice to see him laughing so genuinely, it almost seemed like he wasn’t scheming or hiding things for once. I knew better though.

I bit hungrily into a hot dog “It’s delicious.”

“They’re the best ones in town.”

All you could hear was the sound the chips crunching between our teeth. The big empty gym around us made our meal seem almost formal. I’d already had the opportunity to eat with Nath lately, but we went out to eat last time and there were people around. In that moment, I was free to watch him as much as I wanted.

“What’s wrong? Did I get mustard on my nose?”

“No, haha… I was wondering… that scar on your face…”

“What are you imagining now?” he asked with a smirk.

I looked at him pensive, I really wanted to tease him a bit. “I might have said a scorned lover… but actually your cat did that, right?”

“Is it that easy to tell?” he asked surprised.

“No, come off it, was it really Blanche? Wait… it wasn’t a girl, right?”

“No” he laughed, the cheeky bastard “and neither was Blanche. But that brings an interesting point. My dear Candy, are you jealous?”

“W-Wait w-what?” I said coughing, almost choking on my food.

“It’s not the first time you have accused me of being a womanizer.”

“I never said that.”

“Then what… a libertine? A rake?” he smirked.

“A rake??”

“Clutch your pearls and tighten your corsets ladies, Nathaniel is coming. Your innocence is in danger.”

“Well… is it?” I asked trying to look sheepish.

“What?”

“My innocence. Is it in danger?”

He stared at me for a moment playing with one of his piercings, then with a wicked grin “I think I took care of that a while ago, didn’t I?”

I threw a chip to his face with a snort, asshole. I took another and was just about to bring it to my lips when he stopped me by grabbing my wrist. I raised my eyes to look at him in protest but I found his face way closer than what I expected. Too close. Was he…

“You know I am always happy to help though” he said with a heated stare, moving closer. He parted his lips and… ate my chip. Lips brushing against the tips of my fingers. I suddenly wasn’t hungry anymore.

He leaned back to his chair with a satisfied expression on his face. He looked me straight in the eye. I got the impression my heart had stopped beating for a second. Then he stood up and went into the boxing ring. “So, you coming?”

“Wh-what?” He took off his T-shirt and started pulling off his pants. “What are you…” I looked away, red as a beet. “You want me to join you to do WHAT exactly, Nathaniel?”

“It’s alright, I’m wearing sweatpants. What do you think?” he laughed “A little basic course in self-defence, how about it? I told you, I can’t be completely forthcoming with you at the moment, it’s too dangerous. But I am done avoiding you, I know I would be missing out something important.”

“Wh-what?” I didn’t know what to say “I’m not dressed for it, I didn’t know to…”

“I changed to be more comfortable, but don’t worry, I’m just going to show you some basic moves.”

“O-OK…”

“You need to be barefoot. You can keep the rest of your clothes on. If you really want to.” He added teasing.

I briefly considered undressing for real, just to make him fluster a little. I knew I was. The vision of his naked torso wasn’t helping my concentration in the least. In the end I simply took off my shoes and joined him on the ring.

“These are moves I taught my sister too. When I saw those guys hassling you, I…” His jaw tensed up and he clenched his fists. “Anyway, no way that’s going to happen to you again. I try to be careful, but I can’t always be there. So if you don’t mind…”

He held his hand out to me to invite me to enter the ring.

“You know if you teach me these moves… I could use them against you?”

“I’m aware of the risks I’m taking, yes” he laughed “ come on, let’s get started.”

He showed me basic moves to block blows, then to control your opponent. And finally, to knock him down to the ground and have time to run off.

“You’re good! Looks like it’s not the first time you’ve taken a class in self-defence.”

We went through at least a dozen moves, imagining different attack scenarios.

“Come on, let’s do this one one last time. I’ll attack you from behind this time.”

He wrapped his arms around my waist, I crushed his foot and I rammed my elbow back into him to shove him away from me. I grab him by the shoulder to punch him under his chin. But I positioned my feet wrong, tripped and ended up pressed against his chest.

“That’s not… what I’d planned” he said.

I bent his knee by pressing on his thigh and I managed to get him down on the ground, with me on top of him. We both laughed breathlessly.

“Not bad at all.”

My laugh faded in my throat when we made eye contact. I raised my hand to his face and with a finger I traced the scar on his lips.

“It’s just a left over from an old fight, nothing serious…”

Still straddling him, I moved my finger again, this time drawing the shape of his lips. It was like I was trying to familiarise myself with his face all over again. Without thinking, without understanding what I was doing, I kissed him, gently, almost as if asking permission. Taking a deep breath, Nath lifted himself up to kiss me back. He put his hands on my hips while I rested my arms on his shoulders, leaning down to meet his lips. The kiss was slow, languid… sensual. We took our time to properly taste each other.

“That’s the opposite of what I’m trying to teach you here… you realise that?” he whispered.

“Oh really?” I grinned “Oops, sorry, I think I need for you to explain… the rules, again.”

Holding me firmly against him, he stood up, carrying me and then laying me down on the floor in a show of incredible strength. I felt like I was as light as a feather.

“Hmm… Are you OK, you didn’t hurt yourself earlier when you tripped…?”

“No, all’s well, th-thanks…” He smiled at me as he freed his arm from around my waist.

“I’m gonna… get dressed.”

I went over to the table where we had eaten to put away the boxes we’d left. The room was filled with silence as Nath got dressed.

Had we really just kissed? Nathaniel and I… we had history, did I really want to open that door again? I spied him with the corner of my eye and felt, in my heart, that I really didn’t have much of a choice. I needed some time to think though.

“Hey… Everything OK?”

I answered with a nod. “How about you… Everything OK?” He caressed my cheek gently.

“Everything’s just fine.”

He had his hand behind my back as we walked out of the gym, however I sensed his attitude change as we walked past the Snake Room. He stepped away from me, and walked faster to get out of the street.

“Here we are…” I said once we were in front of the university gates.

“I’ll walk you all the way back to the dorm.”

I felt him relax a little as we went through the campus gate, and he took hold of my hand as we walked across the empty campus quad.

“Thanks… for the evening” I said, a little sheepish, once we got to the dorms hall.

“Thanks for not breaking my nose during self-defence class.”

“Maybe I could try during the next class?”

“Maybe…” he replied pensive.

He leaned towards me as if to kiss me again. I could feel my pulse throbbing in my temples. But his cell phone vibrated in his inside coat pocket. He read the message and his expression completely changed.

“I’ll… I’ll be on my way. Sleep tight. See you soon.”

“Y-yeah, OK… see you real soon…”

All the same, he gave me a charming smile before kissing me on my forehead. I couldn’t let the evening end like that though. As he was about to stand back I grabbed the lapels of his jacket to stop him and, rising on my tiptoes, I left a tender kiss on his lips. He looked at me for a second, surprised, then smiled and headed quickly off campus.

Wow… Once in my room I shut the door behind me gently and laid my burning forehead on the icy cold door. What had just happened? I thought back on how he had taken off in a flash after having walked me back to the dorm. The way he had acted distant while passing by the Snake Room, and the text he had just received… the timing was quite suspicious. Did someone see us? The danger he kept talking about. If that was the case I bet he was going to act even more aloof and distant from tomorrow. I knew his modus operandi by now. But maybe the text had nothing to do with us and he was just being his usual infuriating self.

I put my pyjamas before dropping into my bed, my arms stretched out in a cross.  What did that kiss mean…? Maybe it was just a slip-up. I thought back about the rumours going around about him, about the girls he supposedly went with one after another. Maybe I was just one more pawn on Nath’s chessboard of girls… Curled up in a ball under my blanket, I kept my phone close by in hopes of getting a message from him, and wondering where he had gone so fast tonight… I ended up falling asleep in that position.

[i-am-the-entertainer]

RevieWBY Volume 6, Chapter 13, “Our Way”

Before we begin: NO, GEN:LOCK DID NOT TAKE RESOURCES AWAY FROM VOLUME 6. gen:LOCK is co-produced by an outside company, by nature of how it’s been developed it gets a bigger budget than RWBY, and also production started on it before Volume 5 even ended. RWBY’s problems this volume mainly come from a writing standpoint, from a technical standpoint this is the best volume RWBY’s ever had, and though I still have issues with the writing, especially when it comes to the final couple of episodes, to somehow blame that on gen:LOCK is delusional.

We come to the final episode of a volume that has had a lot on its back. After the disappointing ventures of Volumes 4 and 5, we went into this season expecting the worst, and...honestly having those expectations subverted. It wasn’t perfect, but it was actually some of the best material RWBY’s had in a while. But what makes or breaks a RWBY volume as it’s coming out is if the finale packs a punch.

So, was this a worthy conclusion to what has otherwise been RWBY’s best volume?

Well, despite the dramatic “I’m dropping RWBY” announcements people are making, I actually enjoyed it.

Cinder and the Brain

On some level I was hoping for another team RWBY-Cinder confrontation by the end of this volume, but considering what happened with Adam the previous chapter, it’s probably for the best they didn’t meet again.

There’s not much to say about this scene: it’s establishing Cinder and Neo are about to return to the fray, and we can only look forward to their arrival at Atlas.  Really, Cinder and Neo’s whole arc this volume is one I’m not sure how to feel about. I feel like they didn’t give the two enough to do to justify their story being stretched across the whole volume, we could’ve had a few scenes of them around Mistral scheming. But at the same time, unlike Oscar’s storyline back in Volume 4 it didn’t take vital time away from the important stuff, and we got some pretty amazing sequences out of it, especially their initial fight. So yeah, I honestly would’ve hated it not having their storyline this volume if I’d known this was what they were up to.

Let’s Kill Godzilla

Where I felt the Cordovin fight was stretched out too long, I absolutely loved this section of the story. It’s almost like the entire volume has been building up to this moment: Ruby’s really becoming the leader they’ve sort of undeservedly been treating her as for a while, confirming her strong desire to protect, using the unintentional side-effect of Jinn being summoned to her advantage, finally summoning the silver eyes of her own accord. This was the perfect payoff to all that buildup, and I can gladly say, in conjunction with the Jeff Williams music that this was probably one of Volume 6′s strongest moments...if only it weren’t undercut by the Leviathan coming back to life.

Now, it could have honestly been done a little better. Like maybe if we had more of the dramatic close-ups of the silver eyes affecting the Grimm like in the Volume 3 finale, and instead of having it suddenly come back to life have one of the other big Grimms showing up and about to ambush Ruby before Cordovin came in and saved her. Likewise, we could’ve used a longer shot of Cordovin hearing Ruby taking charge: it felt like it was just a rousing speech that convinced her helping Ruby was a good cause, which didn’t exactly convince her for the last couple of episodes. As a result, Cordovin’s about-face feels a little undeserved. But as far as payoff goes, from a writing standpoint this was actually really good as it was. Maybe some better directing decisions would have made it reach the epic heights it needed to reach.

I’m not inclined to do RWBY rewrites, but I think what would have made this work better is if the last two episodes’ section of Cordovin fight happened in one episode, and the first two-thirds of the Adam fight happened in that same episode, and the final episode would have started with the conclusion of the Adam fight and Team RWBY attacks the Leviathan, and maybe midway through this seeing Blake and Yang returning from the Adam fight gives Ruby the strength to unleash the silver eyes: all in all, Volume 6 would’ve just had 12 episodes. But then again, I really loved the cleverness of Ruby using Jinn to help focus her mind. So eh.

HUT HUT HUT HUT AtLAS AtLAS

OOOOHHH. They’re saving the complete resolution of Qrow’s problems for next Volume! Oh, okay, that’s why it felt a little too neat, it’s because they’re not done with him yet.

Can I just say how relieved I am that they kept the heroes’ storyline relegated to a single group? This feels like a return to form for RWBY as a show: school friends reflecting on the insanity they went through, but together. Volume 4 had absolutely no reunions so everything felt disjointed, Volume 5′s finale reunion came after some really stressful stuff that wasn’t delivered as well as it coudl’ve been. But having them on the Manta just joking around and reflecting on what they’d been up to was almost nostalgic, something we would’ve had back in the old days of RWBY. The whole thing leaves the episode on a much higher note than I would’ve initially expected.

Ah, the reveal of the Atlas fleet. Not surprised at all, but a good reminder that Team QROWBYMJNR isn’t gonna have as smooth a time in Atlas as we would’ve thought.

Conclusions

You know what? I really liked this finale. There were some questionable directing choices by Kerry and Connor, but overall it really does end the series on a high point. There’s payoff to themes that have been building up all volume, and I can believe it’s in the same volume as the opening episode. I think the only reason its reception is a little divisive is because it’s a really awesome finale coming after a series of overall not-so-awesome episodes that had some controversially divisive things happen.

I’m gonna go more in-depth about this in my full review, but I think it’s safe to say where Volume 5 was a universal clusterfuck, this volume was about as divisive as Volumes 1-2 were when they came out, and that’s a welcome return-to-form for this show.

Oh Yeah, After The Credits

There’s a really nice parallel going on here that really suggests this is the end or the real beginning of the end of Emerald and Mercury collaborating with Salem. They’re literally in the same positions as they were back at the start of Volume 4, witnessing the true horror of Salem’s domain. This volume has really played their conflict of working for Salem well, and the animation plus Hazel’s bemused remark really sell the realization that Salem is a truly horrifying individual to work for. I suspect their arc next volume will focus on them returning to Cinder.

[24stiles920]

Pack Mentality

Teen Wolf Rewrite

Pairing: Stiles x Reader

Warnings: Ages 16+, swearing, jerk!Stiles

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or Harry Potter. I am just borrowing the spells and potions from the wonderful Harry Potter Universe, not stealing them.

Words: 5724

A/N: Oh, my God. What a whirlwind chapter. Hope you like it, but I worked very hard on the end. Muhahaha. 😊

Season 1 Masterlist

“Happy Birthday!”

I woke up abruptly, rubbing my bleary eyes to see my mom and dad wearing cheesy party hats and gleeful expressions.

“Thanks, mom and dad, but it’s—” I snuck a look at my iHome. “—actually a normal time. I thought it was earlier.”

“Can we take these hats off, now?” Dad complained to mom. “They’re awfully uncomfortable.”

“Finn, honestly—” Mom sighed. “Yes, you can take it off, she’s seen it already.”

I grinned at my parents, loving how their relationship was even after almost thirty years together.

“So,” Mom turned to me, her expression hopeful. “Did it come in yet?”

I looked at my wrists and saw nothing. No writing or anything. But that was to be expected. It wasn’t five p.m. yet.

“No, and you know there won’t be until five, mom.” I pursed my lips at her playfully.

At the age of sixteen at the exact time they were born, everyone gets a soul mark of a person’s name on one of their wrists. It was a taboo thing; people didn’t like to talk about it, as some people don’t even have a soul mark. I know Scott doesn’t have one. And some people have two names, in which case a name appears after their first soulmate dies, which is very rare.

“Eleven hours until five o’clock.” Mom grinned while dad looked nauseous.

“Dad, you don’t have to look so upset,” I laughed. “It’ll be ages before I meet him.”

“Or her.” Mom chimed in.

“Or her.” I agreed.

“Sorry, munchkin.” Dad forced a laugh. “I just don’t like the thought of you leaving us.”

I gave dad an indulgent smile, thinking that his sappiness was sweet. “Dad, today’s my sixteenth birthday; I won’t leave you yet.”

Dad finally smiled, the skin by his eyes wrinkling up. “Well, we’ll leave you to get dressed. We need to go finish breakfast.”

My parents bustled out of my room, allowing me to get up and get ready. I picked out a black camisole and paired it with a black and pink floral skirt. I topped the camisole with a pink cardigan and finished the look off with black tights and black, high-heeled ankle boots.

My phone chimed with a text while I was putting my hair up into a milkmaid braid. I looked to see that it was a text from Scott, wishing me a happy birthday and that he needed to talk to me and Stiles as soon as possible. I quickly sent him a reply and finished my hair.

I grabbed my white leather purse, slipping my wand into it, and walked downstairs, my nose twitching at the smell of baked cinnamon. I entered the kitchen to see the breakfast table laden down with cinnamon rolls, eggs, bacon, sausages, and toast.  

We had a nice breakfast, talking and catching up. I didn’t dare tell them about Scott being a werewolf, but I knew it would come up sometime. Just not now.

“So, how are you getting to school?” Mom asked casually.

I looked at her confused. “Uh, I was just gonna catch a ride with you guys, why?”

Neither of them said anything, instead, dad held out an arm and opened his fist. In his hand were keys with a silver keychain that said ‘Y/N’ on it.

“No way.” I gasped, feeling elated. My own car? I’ll take it.

“Yes way.” Dad grinned. “A Jeep Renegade, just like you wanted.”

“In navy blue?” I wondered. It didn’t matter to me, but I was just checking to see if they went all out.

“In navy blue.” Dad confirmed.

I squealed and jumped up from my seat, giving each of them a tight hug. Together we walked out to the driveway, where my brand-new jeep was sitting, gleaming in the morning sunlight.

“Oh, my God, thank you so much!” I cried, wrapping them both into another hug. “Oh, I love you guys so much.”

“We love you, too, sweetheart.” Mom smiled, cupping my chin gently. “Now get going. Don’t forget we have your birthday dinner with the Stilinski’s tonight.”

“I won’t forget.” I assured her, grabbing my purse from my dad. I walked to my jeep and got in, loving that new car smell.

I quickly hooked up my phone to the Bluetooth and played music, pulling out of the driveway, and thanking God that I had actually gone to those Driver’s Ed classes and gotten my license on time.

The ride to school was, unfortunately, fast, but Scott and Stiles were waiting by the school for me.

“Happy Birthday!” They greeted in unison, while Scott thrust a bouquet of sunflowers at me that were from him and Melissa.

“Thanks, guys.” I grinned at them.

“I have your present for later.” Stiles told me. “Dad and I went in on it, so he wanted to see your reaction.”

“Okay.” I shrugged. “That reminds me… Scott, did you want to come over for dinner? We’re celebrating my birthday. Melissa can come too. We’re having homemade pizza.”

“Sure.” Scott smiled. “I love your mom’s pizza.”

“Great.” I nodded. “Now, tell us about your text.”

Scott started explaining about this dream he had, where he and Allison were about to get it on, until Scott lost control and attacked Allison, basically killing her in a school bus.

“So, you killed her?” Stiles asked, opening the door for me and Scott.

“I don’t know.” Scott shrugged. “I just woke up. And I was sweating like crazy, and I couldn’t breathe. I’ve never had a dream where I woke up like that before.”

“Really?” Stiles raised his eyebrows. “I have. Usually ends a little differently.”

I scrunched up my nose and turned away, trying not to think about Stiles having wet dreams about Lydia. I just had to ignore it for a few more hours. Later today I would get my soul mate’s name, and then I could focus my time on someone other than Stiles.

“’A,’ I meant I’ve never had a dream that felt that real,” Scott said in a disgusted tone. “And ‘B,’ never give me that much detail about you in bed again.”

“Noted.” Stiles sighed.

“So,” I started, “Let me take a guess here—”

“No,” Scott cut me off. “I know, you think it has something to do with me going out with Allison tomorrow, like I’m gonna lose control and rip her throat out.”

“No, of course not.” I lied. Both Scott and Stiles gave me disbelieving looks. “Yeah, that’s totally it.”

“Hey, come on, it’s gonna be fine, all right?” Stiles said positively. “Personally, I think you’re handling this pretty fuckin’ great, okay? You know, it’s not like there’s a lycanthropy for beginners class you can take.”

Scott and I exchanged looks, both of us probably thinking the same thing. Derek Hale.

“Yeah, not a class, but maybe a teacher.” Scott suggested.

“Who, Derek?” Stiles exclaimed, pausing before slapping Scott on the back of the head. “You forgetting the part where we got him tossed in jail?”

“Yeah, I know, but chasing her, dragging her to the back of the bus, it felt so real.” Scott said.

“How real?” I asked.

“Like it actually happened.” Scott answered as he and Stiles pushed open the doors to go outside.

I gasped at the sight before me. A buts was parked outside of the school, its back door ripped halfway off with claw marks and splats of blood everywhere. It was exactly as Scott had described in his dream, and my worry for Allison bubbled within my stomach.

“I think it did.” Stiles said, mouth wide open with shock.

I fumbled with my bag, trying to grab my iPhone out of one of the silly pockets. Scott seemed to have the same idea as me, taking out his phone as well. I unlocked my screen and frantically texted Allison, wondering where she was. There was no reply and one glance at Scott showed that he was getting the same results as me.

We raced back into the school, searching the hallways for the familiar dark head of curls. We had no luck, so Scott and I kept pression on, with Stiles trailing behind us.

“She’s probably fine.” Stiles tried to calm us down.

“She’s not answering our texts, Stiles.” I said nervously.

Stiles grabbed my hand, causing me to calm down a fraction. How he could soothe me with just one touch amazed me.

“It could just be a coincidence, all right?” Stiles spoke soothingly. “A seriously amazing coincidence.”

Scott glanced back at me and Stiles. “Just help me find her, okay? Do you see her?”

I looked around, but I couldn’t spot the Argent girl.

“No,” Stiles and I said in unison.

Scott turned down a different hall, getting lost in the crowd. Stiles and I turned to each other, at a lost at what we could do.

“Hey, come here,” Stiles said suddenly, grabbing my arm and pulling me to the side of the hallway so that we weren’t in the way of people. He took off his backpack and rummaged through it, pulling out a small white box.

“I, uh,” He rubbed his head awkwardly. “I know I said I already got you something, but I wanted to give you this as well.”

I smiled warmly at him. “You didn’t have to, Stiles.”

“Of course, I did.” Stiles said indignantly. “You’re my—you’re Y/N.”

I gave him a small smile as he handed me the box. I took the top off and gasped as I looked at the ring inside. It was simple, but perfect, with a silver band and a single garnet stone in the middle. My birthstone.

“It was my mother’s.” Stiles said, watching as I slid it onto my right hand. “She left it for you, she loved you, said you were the best goddaughter out there.”

I glanced up at him, noticing the sadness in his eyes as he talked about his mom.

“I loved her, too.” I assured Stiles. “It’s beautiful, Stiles, thank you.”

I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around his firm waist, resting my head on his chest. I could hear his heart beating fast as he wrapped his long arms around my shoulders and squeeze tight.

I breathed in his intoxicating scent and savored the moment, because there, with Stiles’ arms around me, and mine around him, I felt like I was floating on cloud nine.  

“Attention, students, this is your principal.” The overhead speaker boomed. “I know you’re all wondering about the incident that occurred last night to one of our buses. While the police work to determine what happened, classes with proceed as scheduled.”

Having parted from each other as the principal was speaking, I watched as Stiles sighed in disappointment like most of the other students in the hall.

“Come on.” I laughed, elbowing him playfully. “Walk me to class?”

“Why, of course.”

And off we went.

“Maybe it was my blood on the door.” Scott said later in chemistry class, turning around in his seat to look at me and Stiles.

“Could have been animal blood.” Stiles suggested. “You know, maybe you caught a rabbit or something.”

“And did what?” Scott asked, disgusted.

“Ate it.”

“Raw?” Scott looked appalled.

“No, you stopped to bake it in a little werewolf oven.” Stiles said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “I don’t know, you’re the one who can’t remember anything.”

“Mr. Stilinski, if that’s your idea of a hushed whisper, you might want to pull the headphones out every once in a while.” Mr. Harris called from the front of the classroom, his hands on his hips.

Stiles laughed mockingly.

“I think you, Mr. McCall, and Miss Stark would benefit from a little distance, yes?” Mr. Harris continued.

“No.” Stiles objected softly. Mr. Harris ignored him, pointing to two empty seats for Stiles and Scott to take on the opposite sides of the room from each other while I stayed in the same seat.

“Let me know if the separation anxiety gets to be too much.” Mr. Harris quipped as the boys moved to their new seats.

Stiles scoffed, hauling his books and bag to the back of the classroom. Scott sat at the front with a girl named Harley, who was staring out the window.

“Hey, I think they found something.” She exclaimed suddenly, running to the window.

The whole class got up to walk to the window to see what Harley was talking about. I walked up behind Scott and Stiles, but I was too short to see over them.

“That’s not a rabbit.” Scott murmured to Stiles.

Suddenly, whatever the class saw made them all scream and jump back, causing me to startle a bit. Scott slowly backed away from the window with a horrified look on his face. Stiles joined Scott and I, a relieved look upon his facial features.

“Okay.” He said, patting Scott on the shoulder. “This is good, this is good. He got up, he’s not dead. Dead guys can’t do that.”

“Stiles,” Scott said solemnly. “I did that.”

-

“Okay, but dreams aren’t memories.” I argued softly as Stiles, Scott, and I walked to an empty lunch table, our trays laden down with food. I sat down while Stiles sat on my right, with Scott across from him.

“Then it wasn’t a dream,” Scott said. “Something happened last night, and I can’t remember what.”

“What makes you so sure that Derek even has all the answers?” Stiles asked, bringing up the older, grumpy wolf.

“Because during the full moon he wasn’t changed. He was in total control while I was running around in the middle of the night attacking some totally innocent guy.” Scott huffed.

“You don’t know that.” Stiles said firmly.

“I don’t not know it.” Scott countered. “I can’t go out with Allison. I have to cancel.”

My mouth opened in surprise. How could he just cancel on Allison like that? Especially when all she’s been talking about lately was Scott.

“No, you’re not cancelling, okay?” I said. “You can’t just cancel your entire life.”

Stiles nodded from beside me. “Y/N is right, Scott. We’ll figure it out.”

A tray slammed on the table in the spot next to Scott. I looked up to see Lydia standing there with a charming smile on her face.

“Figure out what?” She asked, before turning to me. “Happy Birthday, Y/N.”

“Thanks, Lydia.” I smiled begrudging at her. “And we were just talking about homework.”

“Yeah,” Stiles added breathlessly. He looked at me and whispered lowly, “Why is she sitting with us?”

I shrugged and looked up to see Allison sit in the chair across from me.

“Happy Birthday, Y/N!” She smiled sweetly at me, before handing me a chocolate chip cookie.

“Thanks, Al.” I beamed at her as Jackson walked up to the table.

“Get up.” He commanded the boy who was sitting at the head of the table.

They guy looked extremely offended. “How come you never ask Danny to get up?”

Danny, who was on the other side of Stiles, quipped, “Because I don’t stare at his girlfriend’s coin slot.”

The guy huffed loudly and got up, going to take a seat elsewhere.

“So,” Danny started casually, “I hear they’re saying it’s some type of animal attack. Probably a cougar.”

Jackson shook his head in disagreement. “I heard mountain lion.”

“A cougar is a mountain lion.” Lydia corrected him quietly. To her chagrin, we all heard her. Jackson even gave her a weird look. “Isn’t it?”

“Who cares?” Jackson said rudely. “The guy’s probably some homeless tweaker who’s gonna did anyway.”

“Actually, I just found out who it is.” Stiles said, looking at his phone. “Check it out.”

He held his phone out, so everyone could see what he was talking about.

“The Sheriff’s department won’t speculate on details of the incident but confirmed the victim, Garrison Meyers, did survive the attack.” The reporter on the video said. “Meyers was taken to a local hospital where he remains in critical condition.”

“I know this guy,” Scott stuttered, taking Stiles’ phone into his hands.

“You do?” Allison asked as Stiles and I exchanged worried looks.

Scott nodded. “Yeah, when I used to take the bus back when I lived with my dad. He was the driver.”

“Can we talk about something slightly more fun, please?” Lydia drawled. “Like, oh,” She turned to Allison abruptly. “Where are we going tomorrow night? You said you and Scott were hanging out tomorrow night, right?”

Allison swallowed her food, glancing worriedly at Scott. “Um, we were thinking of what we were gonna do.”

“Well,” said Lydia briskly. “I am not sitting home again watching lacrosse videos, so it the four of us are hanging out, we are doing something fun.”

“Hanging out?” Scott stammered, looking bewilderedly at a regretful Allison. “Like, the four of us? Do you wanna hang out, like us and them?”

Allison looked at me for help, and I grimaced at her. I didn’t know what to do in this situation. On one hand, Lydia was being rude by barging her way into Scott and Allison’s date. On the other hand, I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by it, and Allison would look rude if she said no.

I think Allison had the same lines of thinking, because she answered hesitantly, “Yeah, I guess. Sounds fun.”

Jackson scoffed and reached for his fork, holding it up to his face. “You know what else sounds fun? Stabbing myself in the face with this fork.”

Lydia pried the fork from his hand and gasped excitedly. “How ‘bout bowling?” She asked Jackson. “You love to bowl.”

“Yeah, with actual competition.” Jackson snarked.

Allison leaned forward, a challenging look on her face. “How do you know we’re not actual competition?” She looked towards Scott, “You can bowl, right?”

“Sort of.” Scott answered, his face screwed up.

Jackson leaned forward, putting his arms on the table as he leaned into them. “Is it sort of, or yes?”

Scott scowled. “Yes.” He lied, “In fact, I’m a great bowler.”

I twisted my lips together to hold back a laugh. Scott was a horrible bowler. In fact, the last time he bowled was at my eighth birthday party. He had gone to throw the bowling ball down the lane and accidently threw the ball backwards. The damn thing landed on my foot, and I landed in the hospital on my birthday, sobbing, with Stiles trying to cheer me up and Scott apologizing to me profusely.

Stiles and I hadn’t had time to confront Scott on his colossal lie throughout the day, so when we approached him when school ended, Stiles burst out, shouting, “You’re a terrible bowler.”

We walked down the stairs to the first level of the school.

“I know!” Scott exclaimed. “I’m such an idiot.”

I reached out and patted him on the shoulder. “You’re not an idiot, Scott.”

“Thanks, Y/N.” Scott smiled down at me.

“God,” Stiles interrupted, literally squeezing in between Scott and I. “It was like watching a car wreck. I mean, first it turned into the whole group date thing. And then out of nowhere comes that phrase.”

“Hang out.” Scott and Stiles said together.

“You don’t hang out with hot girls, okay?” Stiles continued. “It’s like death. Once it’s hanging out, you might as well be her gay best friend. You and Danny can start hanging out.”

I frowned at him. Why he insinuating that I was ugly? I mean, we hung out all the time, and I know he’s not gay.

“How is this happening?” Scott moaned. “I either killed a guy or I didn’t—”

“I don’t think Danny likes me very much.” Stiles pondered aloud.

“—I ask Allison on a date, and now we’re hanging out—”

“Am I not attractive to gay guys?” Stiles asked Scott and I, completely ignoring the fact that Scott was freaking out.

“—I make first line, and the team captain wants to destroy me,” Scott went on, “And now—now I’m gonna be late for work.”

Scott walked away from us, mumbling to himself, and leaving Stiles and I alone.

“Wait, Scott, you didn’t—am I attractive to gay guy—you didn’t answer my question.” Stiles pouted.

I gave him a confused look. “Why do you want to know if you’re attractive to gay guys?”

Stiles shrugged. “I dunno.”

We started walking out of the school towards the jeep.

“Stiles,” I started. “Are you gay?”

“What?” Stiles asked, shocked. “No! Not that there’s anything wrong with being gay, but I like girls. In fact, I love them. Why?”

“Well, you said only gay guys hang out with hot girls. We hang out all the time.” I said slowly. “So, if you’re not gay, that must mean I’m not attractive.”

Stiles stopped in his tracks and grabbed my arm, stopping me from walking any further.

“Wha—” He stopped and shook his head. “Of course, you’re attractive, Y/N. You’re one of the hottest girls in school.”

I blushed, my cheeks turning hot and pink.

“Come on,” I said, grinning like a fool. “Come look at my new jeep.”

-

Mieczyslaw

I stared at the name written on my wrist in slanted writing. I didn’t know anyone named Mieczyslaw, but the name sounded Polish. Maybe I would meet him when on a trip overseas or something.

“Y/N, the Stilinski’s and the McCall’s are here!” Mom called from downstairs, shaking me out of my daze.

“Coming!” I called, walking over to my vanity and grabbing a chunky bracelet to put on my wrist, covering the writing for now. I would talk to my parents later, but for now, Mieczyslaw would be my little secret.

-

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday to Y/N! Happy birthday to you!” My friends and family sang as my mom brought a large chocolate cake into the dining room where we were all sitting.

My cheeks flushed at their attention as I blew out all the candles in one blow. Everyone clapped loudly, cheering my name. Scott even threw in a cake cheer.

We opened presents as we ate the double chocolate cake.

Scott and Melissa got me a beautiful leather-bound journal with a elephant carved on the front. Mom and dad got me some books about potion making and a few cookbooks, as I had mentioned that I wanted to get into cooking and brewing.

But Noah and Stiles’ present was my favorite.

They presented me with a large photo album, filled to the brim with pictures of me, Stiles, and Scott, along with our families. There were even some pictures of Stiles and I in the bathtub together when we were toddlers.

“This was the best birthday.” I told them all sincerely. “Thank you so much for everything.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. Now, did you get a name?” Melissa, still in her work scrubs, asked eagerly.

“I’m not sharing.” I told her, my lips quirking up a little.

Later that night, after getting interrogated about the name on my wrist by all the parents, Scott pulled Stiles and I aside, telling us that we needed to go the bus where Garrison Meyers was attacked. Apparently, Scott had went to Derek’s house to find out what happened, and Derek told him to go back to the bus and use his senses to remember.

So, after giving an excuse to the parents, we headed off to the bus garage. When we got out of the jeep, we walked up to the closed gate and Stiles put a foot in one of the links, ready to hoist himself up over the fence.

“Hey, no, just me.” Scott objected. “Someone needs to keep watch and stay with Y/N.”

I scowled at Scott, I was not defenseless.

“How come I’m always the guy keeping watch over Y/N?” Stiles whined.

“Because there’s only two of us.” Scott retorted.

“Okay, why’s it starting to feel like you’re Batman and I’m Robin?” Stiles said seriously. “I don’t want to be Robin all the time.”

“Nobody’s Batman and Robin any of the time.” Scott sighed.

“Not even some of the time?” Stiles asked in a disappointed tone.

Scott glared at him. “Just stay here.”

“Oh, my God!” Stiles yelled exasperated. “Fine. Come on, Y/N.”

He grabbed my arm and pulled me back towards the jeep, while I followed him willingly.

We sat in silence as we watched Scott scale the fence and run to the bloody bus. Stiles was unusually quiet, and I knew that it had something to do with what just transpired.

“You okay?” I asked him softly.

Stiles blew out a long breath. “I just—I just feel useless, you know? Like I’m not important.”

My heart broke as I watched his sad and disappointed face. How could he say that? Did he not know how important he was to me?

“I’ll never be the hero.” He continued. “Always the sidekick, I guess.”

“Hey,” I said strongly, capturing his attention. “Just because you don’t have powers doesn’t make you any less important than Scott.” He opened his mouth to argue, but I kept on, “No I mean it, Stiles. And who says you’re not a hero? You’re my hero. I mean, who talks with me for hours after I have a bad dream?”

Stiles said nothing.

“Who, Stiles?” I prodded, wanting an answer from him.

“Me.” He mumbled.

“Who let me drive his jeep during Driver’s Ed?”

“Me.” Stiles repeated.

“Who has to live with ADHD and constantly get good grades? Who did all the research to find out if Scott was a werewolf? You did, Stiles. You’re a damn good friend, an even better hero, and you are very important to me.” I said firmly as he watched me with an open mouth.

Finally, he smiled a little, the corners of his full lips turning up. “This is why you’re my Y/N.”

“Aw, shucks,” I waved at him.

We sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, until suddenly Stiles swore, “Fuck!”

“What?” I looked at him alarmed. He didn’t answer, instead pressing on the horn two times.

I looked to see flashlights approaching the bus that Scott was currently exploring.

“Shit.” I muttered, climbing into the back seat.

“Come on—” Stiles groaned as Scott came running out of the bus. He jumped on the bed of a truck and flipped over the fence, speeding his way to the jeep.

“Come on!” Stiles shouted as Scott opened the passenger door.

“Go! Go! Go! Go!” Scott rushed out, causing Stiles to step on the gas and sending us into reverse.

“Did it work?” I asked, leaning up to put my head between the two boys. “Did you remember?”

“Yeah,” Scott nodded, breathless. “I was there last night. And the blood—a lot of it was mine.”

“So, you did attack him?” Stiles guessed, taking his eyes off the road briefly to look at Scott.

“No.” Scott answered simply. “I saw glowing eyes in the bus, but they weren’t mine. It was Derek.”

“What about the driver?” I prodded, ignoring Scott’s theory about Derek.

“I think I was actually trying to protect him.”

“Wait,” Stiles said, clearly not over what Scott said about Derek. “Why would Derek help you remember that he attacked the driver?”

Scott sighed and shook his head. “That’s what I don’t get.”

“It’s got to be a pack thing.”

Scott looked to Stiles, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Like an initiation. You do the kill together.” Stiles theorized.

Scott scoffed. “Because ripping someone’s throat out is a real bonding experience?”

“Yeah, but you didn’t do it, which means you’re not a killer.” I said as I patted Scott on the shoulder.

“It also means that—” Stiles started but was quickly interrupted by Scott.

“I can go out with Allison.” He sighed dreamily. I giggled under my breath. What a love-sick fool.

“I was actually gonna say it means that you won’t kill Y/N and I.” Stiles grumbled.

“Oh yeah,” Scott said in a casual voice. “That too.”

-

Thump!

I furrowed my eyebrows and turned around, narrowing my eyes at the photo album that Noah and Stiles gave me. It had fallen off my bed as I got off of it, making a tipi-like shape on the floor.

“Y/N, hurry up,” Mom called from the hall. “We have to drop you off at the Stilinski’s!”

“Okay, mom, let me pack a bag really quick.” I told her, grabbing the photo album off the floor and setting on my bed, intending to pack it for my stay at Stiles’ house.

My parents were going on a weekend getaway. Why they had planned it my birthday week was beyond me, but they’d had it planned for months, so they couldn’t get the money back from the hotel that they were staying at.

I had offered to stay at home, but my parents overwhelmingly shot the idea down, insisting that I’d get myself in any trouble I could find. So, I was staying at the Stilinski residence until Monday.

I quickly packed some clothes in my Vera Bradley weekend bag, and shoved the photo album in there as well, fully intending on looking it over front to back tonight before I went to sleep.

The ride to Stiles’ house was quick, and the goodbyes were quicker, as my parents were eager to get on their way. Noah wasn’t home when I arrived, but Stiles was, so we ordered Chinese food from our favorite Asian place and sat down to eat.

We talked about how we thought Scott’s group date was going, and we both had not-so-positive answers. Well, mine was okay, because I knew that Allison liked Scott, but Stiles’ was more negative.

“He sucks at bowling, so I bet Jackson’s laughing his fucking ass off at him.” Stiles prophesized, eating a bite of broccoli.

“True.” I agreed, eating some chow Mein. “I bet Allison is giving him tips, though.”

“I still think Scott will royally fail, though.” Stiles laughed. “Remember when he broke your—”

“Yes, I remember.” I scowled playfully at him. “What a great memory to bring up.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Stiles chuckled. “But you have to admit it’s kind of funny now.”

“It’s a little funny.” I admitted, a smile breaking through my lips.

After dinner we watched, to Stiles’ insistence, the first two Star Wars movies, and then I told him I was heading to the guest room, intending to fall asleep.

I snuggled into the comfortable bed and pulled out my photo album, opening up to a random page. The first photo that caught my attention was Stiles and I when we were maybe three years old. Stiles had picked a dandelion and held it out to me, where I was smiling cheekily.

I slid the picture out of the sleeve and turned it over, hoping that the year was written on the back. It was, and so were our names.

Y/N and Mieczyslaw. 1999.

My hands trembled, and I let out a gasp. Stiles’ real name was Mieczyslaw? It had to be. It was on the picture in Claudia’s handwriting.

I got up out of the bed and walked to the door, deciding that I was going to go ask Stiles about this. I opened the door and wandered down the hall, walking to Stiles’ room and knocking on his door with a closed fist.

Stiles opened the door, a curious expression on his face.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” He asked.

“Your name.” I replied. “It’s Mieczyslaw?”

Color drained from his face and he stumbled back into his room, letting me follow him in. The room was a pigsty, but it was mostly clothes strewn on the ground.

“How’d you know?” Stiles asked.

“This picture.” I told him, holding up the photo so he could see the back of it.

“Fuck.” He whispered, putting his hand over his mouth.

“Do you know what name’s on my wrist, Stiles?” I asked, looking down at his carpeted floor.

“My name.” He said softly.

“And how’d you figure that out?” I wondered, not putting two and two together.

“Because your name’s on my wrist.” Stiles admitted.

I closed my eyes and shook my head, not believing that he kept this from me for close to nine months. Tears started gathering in my eyes and I made no move to wipe them away.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I cried, opening my eyes to see his guilty face.

“I-I don’t—” He stammered, but I cut him off.

“The truth, Stiles!”

“I don’t love you like that.” Stiles confessed, causing me to cry out as I absorbed his words. “Y/N, I’m sorry—”

“No, you’re not.” I sobbed. “So, what, you’re just going to wait for Lydia?”

Stiles was silent, not answering my question.

“That’s why you don’t want me?”

“Y/N, please.” Stiles begged, rushing towards me. I stepped away from him. “There are plenty of platonic soulmates.”

“I’m in love with you!” I cried out tiredly. “I’ve loved you for years and you never even noticed.”

“I-I—”

“Oh, my God.” I gasped. Sadness wanted to drown me until I was dead, the air sinking out of my lungs. “I can’t believe this.”

“I-I don’t want to lose you, Y/N, please, can’t we work this out?” Stiles asked desperately, tears now glistening in his eyes.

I bit my lip and shook my head, storming out of his room. I entered the guest room and slammed the door, locking it before he could even try to enter.

“Y/N, come on.” Stiles groaned, knocking on the door. “I need you. Don’t do this.”

“You did this, Stiles.” I spat, glaring at the dark-grained door. “Just—just leave me alone.”

“Y/N—”

I laid down in the bed, ignoring his knocking for over an hour until it went silent and I cried myself to sleep.

Tag List

@julzdec @karamelcoveredolicity @thegirlalmighty01​ @avadakedabitch @belleknows @supernaturallover2002 @dontstopxx @feelingsareharddd @brien-odylan @shewritesshedraws @dylnobrien1911 @kaleyana

[hellostarlight20]

Tau Theta 8/

From wikipedia: In ancient times, tau was used as a symbol for life or resurrection, whereas the eighth letter of the Greek alphabet, theta, was considered the symbol of death.

Part of We Are Never Alone, but can be read as a stand alone 50th rewrite. (Established Ten/Rose relationship, no Master arc, Rose and Martha are BFFs, the River Song arc was taken care of, love, shagging, and family. There, you’re caught up!)

Tau Theta: Rose thought she was meeting her daughter’s new girlfriend when she blinked and ended up on Karn right as the Eighth Doctor was about to drink from the chalice the Sisterhood of Karn offered him.Time is in flux, people are trying to change the Doctor’s timeline, and Rose refuses to allow any of that. Even if she has to fight all her Doctors to stop it.

Awesome pict below by @fadewithfury for the equally awesome @aeonish, both of whom agreed to let me use it for this story. A million thanks to Mrs. Bertucci for the beta!

AO3 and TSP

8.

“What do you mean, previous you and older you?” Younger Rose narrowed her eyes. “What are you on about?”

 Rose suddenly remembered she hadn’t known about regeneration then. Oops. “It’s a little wibbly wobbly, timey wimey,” she told her younger self and smiled gently at her. “You’ll have to forget this after, but yeah. They’re all the Doctor.”

 “Yeah?” Younger Rose narrowed her eyes as if weighing whether or not to believe an older looking her. Or if that was an older looking her, Rose supposed.

 “Oh, yes.” Rose held her younger gaze and nodded decisively.

She didn’t have to remember what went through her mind here, not that she did. Rose wondered if she ever would. But no, Younger Rose thought the same things she did—of course she was going to stay with the Doctor. No doubt in that.

And of course she’d protect him with her life if need be. She’d proven that, had done so and would do so again.

 Younger Rose snorted and looked up at (her) Doctor with a smug, knowing grin. That Doctor eyed his Rose from the corner of his eye then very purposefully scowled. Rose knew he remembered exactly when this meeting took place. It hurt her that he had to relive it.

 It hurt that they all had to, and Rose wondered why Bad Wolf brought them all together. What purpose did it serve?

 Next TARDIS was theirs. Her Doctor, well, okay, the one she physically married, stood in the doorway, looking very relieved to see her. Rose made to push past the Doctor still protecting her. He refused to budge, catching her arm and continuing to aim his sonic at the various TARDIS’s and Doctors.

 She grinned widely at her Doctor (and she thought she had a headache before) and waved. His relief was so palpable, she swore each of the Doctors felt it. Rose wondered where Jenny and Clara were—she very much doubted her daughter, any of her daughers, would let the Doctor out on his own when she was missing.

 Third in line was her Doctor, also in brown pinstripes, also alone, but with truly terrible hair. He gaped at her as if he hadn’t seen her in decades. Rose waved to him, too, but that small greeting hit him like a slap and he looked as if he was about to cry.

 She frowned and tried not to read too much into any of that. Her head already pounded, and Rose honestly did not want to know why she was not beside him. And why his hair was an awful mess of flatness.

 Fourth stood Clara and an older Doctor. Rose had never met the tall, gangly Doctor in tweed and bow tie, but she knew he was older and far more broken than even her first Doctor. Or the one standing next to her. He, too, gaped at her as if seeing a ghost.

 Finally, stood the same Doctor clad in the same tweed and bow tie, but with Jenny.

 “Is the universe about to implode?” Rose asked into the awkward silence of the crowded shack.

 Her Doctor—no, she needed a better way to separate them. Her current Doctor? Her current Doctor who remembered marrying her?

 Bit of a mouthful.

 Her Doctor pushed past the Doctor protecting her with a grunt and a sniff, and hugged her tight. “Rose,” he breathed and brushed his fingertips over her temples.

 She sighed in relief at his mental touch. The pounding that threatened to break her brain receded as his telepathy enveloped her in a warm blue-silver wave of love and protection.

 “Rose,” Doctor-protecting-her (Youngest Doctor?) said. “Beautiful name, oh wife of mine.”

 She turned slightly to grin at him, tongue deliberately teasing the corner of her lips. Gratified when his gaze locked in on her mouth, Rose almost missed the sad whispers of the two Doctors who didn’t travel with her or Jenny and looked the most surprised to see her.

 “What happened?” her Doctor demanded. “Where did you go?”

 “I don’t know,” Rose admitted. She looked up at him, returning to the matter at hand. “One minute I was on that bench by the fountain with Clara,” she said.

 Clara—clearly not Jenny’s Clara—squeaked in shock. Jenny stared sadly at the woman, who obviously had no idea who Jenny was. Rose’s heart broke for her daughter. She also noted how the two Doctors most surprised to see her (Flat-Haired-Pinstriped-Doctor and Older-Doctor-with-Clara) stared at Jenny with equal longing.

 Rose wondered what the Doctor-Protecting-Her (Youngest Doctor? She still didn’t know what to call him.) thought of Jenny. He had to feel her mental signature.

 “The next I was in a cave on Karn.”

Rose didn’t need to see the other Doctors to know their reaction. Even Flat-Haired-Pinstriped-Doctor who clearly wasn’t her husband gaped. She felt all their pain as if it were her own. It did not help her poor head.

 “What,” her Doctor said in that dangerous voice that terrified Daleks, “were you doing on Karn?”

 The question was not directed at her but at Doctor-Protecting-Her.

 “I’m sure you remember what I was doing on Karn.” That Doctor sounded blasé.

 Rose rubbed her eyes and tried to keep the Doctors straight. If they all looked different, then maybe, but with two sets of twins, it made for…well, she already had a headache. Universe ending migraine?

 Probably best not to joke about that.

 “Of course we remember what I was doing on Karn,” the Older-Doctor-with-Clara snapped. “We regenerated.”

 Her first Doctor—did the Doctor from Karn count as her third Doctor chronologically or as her ‘real’ first Doctor since he was, in fact, the youngest?

 Her first Doctor scowled deeper and stepped forward. “I remember Karn,” he admitted, voice harsh and bleak. “I don’t remember regenerating.” He stopped and looked softly at Rose, then to his Rose. “I do, however, now remember you suddenly being there.”

 Flat-Haired-Pinstriped-Doctor shook his head, gaze so steady on Rose it sent shivers down her spine. That Doctor’s eyes flicked from her face to her hand, clasped firmly in her Doctor’s, and the ring gracing her finger.

 “What are you doing here?” The words were so quietly spoken yet they shot through the small shack like a bullet. “How can you be here?”

 Rose raised her eyebrow. “There’s another you, two identical older yous, plus two younger yous, and a younger me, and that’s what you ask?”

 But the heartbreak in his eyes undid her. Rose stepped from her Doctor’s side and, light as butterfly wings, ran her fingertips over that Doctor’s cheek. He caught her hand and leaned into her touch, sighing softly.

 “Where did you expect me to be?”

 He opened his mouth then clicked it shut. Shaking his head, he looked to the Older-Doctor-with-Clara who looked equally heartbroken. Both Doctors shook their heads as if doing so might keep the words trapped in their mouths then looked back to Rose.

 “Happy…elsewhere.”

 Oh. All the air left her lungs. “I never found you?”

 “Oh!” He perked up, tried to look happy and failed. Miserably. “You did.” He nodded and glanced at the Older-Doctor-with-Clara. “Just…returned to the other universe.”

 Rose narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

 “You were happy,” Older-Doctor-with-Clara insisted. He stepped forward but dropped his hand and curled his fingers into a fist. “I know you were.”

 “I hate to break up this rather unique reunion,” the youngest Doctor said, humor and bitterness coloring his tone. “Unique even for me. But I’m afraid I have work to do.”

 Rose’s first Doctor shuddered. Her younger self stepped beside him and wordlessly took his hand. Rose watched them, seeing how they looked to an outside eye. It simultaneously broke her heart and made it sing.

 She smiled at her younger self and hoped Younger Her realized how happy they’d be together. And for a long, long time. Clearing her throat, Rose rubbed her temples and blew out a breath. “If I step into my TARDIS to change into something not quite so stifling, will I come back to bloodshed?”

 “Don’t worry, Mum,” Jenny said and stepped forward to the predictable gasps from the Doctors’ not currently married to Rose.

 They had to sense Jenny’s mental signature, Rose didn’t know why they were so surprised. Then again, feeling the maybe of something and having it confirmed…Rose looked at Younger Her. That her, all nineteen years of stubbornness, looked on wide-eyed—half scared, mostly intrigued.

 Her daughter planted her feet and crossed her arms, and looked so much like Rose’s first Doctor she wanted to laugh. Apparently her first Doctor noticed and stiffened uncomfortably. He eyed Jenny—his blue eyes, Rose’s blonde hair—and that sappy half-smile curled his lips.

 “Blimey,” Younger Rose muttered.

 “Go on, I’ll make sure we don’t implode anything,” Jenny promised.

 Rose wanted to ask how far in the future Jenny and that Doctor were from. She couldn’t bring herself to, but noted the distinct absence of her older self.

[lycorogue]

About the WIP tag post: What's "Glitches"? How did I miss this?

For those curious about the WIP list this references, you can find my entry to this game here: WIP Tag

Glitches is probably the original work with the most world-build completed. Mainly because it originated as the play-by-post X-Men RPG my husband ran (runs? It’s kinda still going?): X-Future.

I just loved my characters Willow, Lia, and Trish too much to not have them be characters in their own original work. And in truth, I loved Chayse (hubby’s character), and Devon (coincidentally Cyhyr’s hubby’s character) so much that I kinda wanted to bring them along for a ride. (Full disclosure, since I haven’t gotten to the point of seriously writing this thing yet I have yet to ask Ronoxym for permission to adapt his character, but it WILL be done before I actually use Devon). I also loved Lucas and Lincoln (two characters created by another player), but that player specifically asked me to not use his OCs, which I totally get, so sadly I have to leave them behind.

The hardest part of creating Glitches is actually two fold:

1. Trying to rework and rewrite both the setting and some of the canonical characters from the X-Men universe into originals. It’s always going to have that FEEL; that nod to X-Men, but I’m trying my best to switch it up JUUUUUUST enough that it is technically original. Just…. inspired largely by X-Men.

2. Trying to figure out an actual plot for this thing. I have an awesome world and amazing characters, but since it was inspired by both a comic book series/franchise and a role playing game, the story has a more comic book/webcomic/TV series feel to it. A more serial feel to it. Trying to either find a production crew and cast to make it into a visual series (TV/webisodes/streaming), or to find an artist who can bring it to life as a comic of some sort will be quite the struggle. So the actual tale probably won’t see the light of day for about a decade… :P

I’m going to gush about the world history I have created thus far, so if you want to keep reading you can do so below the break.

The world of Glitches is vaguely Cyberpunk, and takes place somewhere between 2070 and 2130. I haven’t locked it down exactly because I’ve always been terrible with science, and creating speculative fiction kind of scares me because of that. I need it to be enough into the future that humanity can “evolve” into the species I need, but not soooo far in the future that I have to pretty much re-invent society.

Alternatively, it could be an AU contemporary time where the evolution of humanity started it’s rebooting in the 70s, 80s, or 90s… part of me also fears that option because then I have to take into consideration how evolved humans could have altered the history of our world…. Either way; world building is terrifying for me.

Now onto the fun part! Regardless of the time frame Glitches takes place in, here’s the breakdown of this world’s history.

Human evolution jumpstarted again. It largely went unnoticed at first. Things like albino children, or children with extra fingers/toes being born more frequently. Eye and hair colors branched away from the blonde-to-black/blue-to-brown spectrum as babies were being born with hair on the blue-to-purple spectrum: dusty sky blue being the equivalent to platinum blonde, magenta being the equivalent to redheads, and a deep violet being this variant’s black hair. The eyes were also unnatural colors: red; orange; purple; yellow.

Next came the telepaths and the telekinetics. They were born with such increased frequency that science was able to finally confirm that they existed. It was then that they realized all those savants and geniuses? Everyone on the Autism spectrum? They were just humanity rewiring how its brain functioned. They were all the first wave of telepaths, telekinetics, and other powerful mind users.

It wasn’t until the first baby deafened everyone in the delivery room with her crying did people get scared. This child had a vocal range that was so high pitched it literally burst ear drums, and there was no way for such a young thing to know how to control it.

A large percentage of that generation - The “Broken” Generation - were born with preternatural abilities or physical alterations. Children were born with functional tails, or amphibian-like webbed appendages, or rock-hard skin. It was an age of panic as fewer children were being born “normal.” One scientist made the mistake of dumbing down the situation for a reporter: explaining this new evolution of humanity as “it’s like their DNA has a glitch in it.” The sound bite birthed the name of a species. From that point on, anyone born with dramatic physical anomalies or preternatural abilities were dubbed “a glitch.”

Panic ensued because parents weren’t sure how to handle their children - especially the more “dangerous” ones like the baby who could deafen any who heard her cries, or the first pyrokinetics who were born - and society had no way of handling these new abilities. Plus, humanity always was the kind to fear what they couldn’t understand; what was different than the majority.

Soon the fear became that Homo Sapiens were the new Neanderthals; the next evolution of humanity to become extinct as this new breed took over as the main species.

That’s really when the hate crimes started. Glitches were rounded up in Native-American-like “reservations” to try to “keep them safe”. In truth, these were little more than ghettos, and were mostly to help “normal” people feel safe from the Glitches. There were massive clashes and polarizing views to everything.

Yet Glitches kept getting born, and kept becoming more powerful with each generation. Some called for a cure. Others knew it was a natural evolution. Some believed Glitches were the superior version of humanity, others wanted to eradicate them in order to preserve Homo Sapiens. Some liked the segregated communities, others wanted full integration, and still others wanted to have a portion of the world cut away as a nation of Glitches.

In America, one of the ways the government decided to help keep the peace was to create the Glitch Protection Service. Their sole purpose was to keep hate crimes down between the two breeds of humans. They were to protect Glitches from being harassed and harmed by humans, but also keep the humans safe from Glitches trying to retaliate or exterminate their “inferior” cousins. In the end, most from GPS took it upon themselves to be the “jailer” of the Glitches; keeping them fully isolated in their ghettos.

While modern society may have impolite names for the police, such as po-po, pig, bacon, donut dunker, etc., the world of Glitches have the same concept for the GPS, nodding to their unfortunate abbreviation by calling them vintage GPS manufacturer names: Tom-Tom, Garmin, Navi, Magellan, etc. (I think I’m having rookies be called ‘Map Quest’). Part of me loves this, but another part of me has been living with this joke since like 2014, and so it just sounds like lame dad puns now…. So I dunno…

Anyway, about 20 or 30 years before my official story starts, Glitches with very severe and extreme powers were born and/or discovered - as latent powers manifested at puberty - governments realized they could weaponize these people. A lot of the environmental users - pyrokinetics, geokinetics, hydrokinetics, aerokinetics, etc - seemed particularly aggressive (mostly due to the bullying they endured growing up), and gladly joined the military’s Glitches units.

Soon there was a new-age Cold War. An arms race focused on these powerful Glitches. Nuclear war was no longer the biggest deterrent; having a Glitch who could single-handedly pull a dozen fighter jets out of the sky was.

That’s when Glitches started disappearing. There had been an epidemic for decades now where parents were appalled by their Glitch children, and abandoned them, or the parents were killed in hate crimes. Orphanages had overflowed, and most didn’t want to take in Glitches, claiming safety for the normal children. Glitches who made it to adulthood had a higher chance of homelessness as the ghettos became overpopulated. Streets were filled with these homeless and abandoned adults and children. Citizens called for something to be done to get these people off the roads and out of public parks. So at first people didn’t care that these Glitches went missing. It was the government finally doing what they promised: getting them off the streets. No one asked where they went. No one cared if they were safe.

It wasn’t until Glitches with families went missing did the dark secret become revealed: the government had millions of secret labs where they experimented on abducted Glitches. Some labs were used to find a “cure” for the abnormalities. Others were used to see if they could manufacture the abnormality in order to give it to non-glitches (an act that would later be called “hacking”, and anyone born human who was given an abnormality later in life would be deemed “hacked” by Glitch DNA). Labs were used to study ways to control Glitches; to weaponize them; to take them down should they try for an uprising. Most were little more than concentration camps. These labs were never official public knowledge, but they were dark whispers; an unspoken communal knowledge.

Using what they learned through these labs, and through more…. humane means… the UN decided to put together a sort of registry of Glitch powers and abnormalities to try to categorize what humanity knew of Glitches (you know humans and categorizing!). Just describing the world background is epic, so I’ll go into more detail about these categories in another post. The main thing is that when a child is born with a physical abnormality, they are instantly registered by the doctors. If a power manifests with age, this is registered as part of the health records needed for the child to go to school. Before being able to register to vote, any human whose powers were not yet marked in the Glitch registry must first be defined. Since the registry is titled Glitch Registry and Identification Database, most Glitches try to remain “Off-GRID” (again with the dad puns. Sorry, not sorry?). They fear that being on the GRID will make it easier for the government to abduct them.

About five years before my official story starts, there was a massive win for Glitches. It was deemed unconstitutional for Glitches to be required to be registered with the government. Now most doctors, parents, and teachers only use the GRID to better understand a child’s abnormality and help them control it so their own life is easier, and so they don’t accidentally harm themselves or others. Glitches are no longer added to the GRID except for anonymous submissions if a new power or physical abnormality is discovered.

However, there have been numerous appeals already to overturn this decision. Mainly because if a person needs to be registered as a gun owner, and most of the modern powers can be used offensively as weapons, these powers should be registered as well (plus it helps keep law enforcement safe because they know how to handle/lock-up Glitches with certain powers). The legal battle between registering and not registering powers is still going strong as my story begins, and is a major debate between two of my adult characters.

And of course, what is a polarizing subject without terrorist hate groups?

There is a “keep humanity pure” group - the equivalent to X-Men’s Purifiers - who don’t have a name quite yet. Their big thing is to “cure the virus that is the Glitch populous. If they are a glitch, we just need to fix the system to eradicate them.” I’m thinking of going with Rebooters for the group name, but it doesn’t have the right ring to it for me….

Alternatively, a street-gang (like Latin Kings sort of thing) turned terrorist group and rebranded themselves The Virus. The leader figured “if humanity thinks Glitches are a virus, then let’s show them how dangerous a virus can be; and how hard to kill.” These guys are my version of “The Brotherhood of Evil Mutants” and their goal is to prove that Glitches are the next stage of evolution; that they are superior to Homo Sapiens, and that they will rule the world as the true humans.

Whoo! I haven’t even talked about the CHARACTERS yet and how they’re trying to survive in this world as teenagers learning how to control their powers. Trying to decide for themselves which side of these fences they belong on.

So, yeah, sorry for the long response, but I HAVE been working on this world build for roughly 4yrs already. :P Thanks for asking, and thank you to everyone who actually read all the way down to this sentence! *mwah*