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op-peccatori · 5 years ago

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Selenophile (M) | IkeVamp Comte

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Pairing: Comte de Saint-Germain/Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit/18+/NSFW

Word Count: 5k

Summary: You’re just a girl who fell in love with the moon, and got lucky enough to have him love you back.

a/n: Always thought Leonardo would be my first, and then Faa happened (~˘▾˘)~ All those Daddy Comte conversations sent a hoe tumbling into love. Also told myself this was going to be short and sweet, and in doing so, played myself. Sorry about that.

Also, for Thirst Purposes, we’re going to believe that Comte can bite her without turning her.

Warnings/Tags: explicit sexual content, vaginal and oral sex, mentions of blood due to vampire bite, this is my love letter to Daddy Comte, pretend im v romantic, also another episode where I had fun with online translators French speakers please don’t kill me

Selenophile (n.) a person who loves the moon.

“Here’s the next stack, and please, try to finish them before dinner?”

Collecting the last of the stray envelopes on the desk, you jog them and place the stack in one corner. Narrowed, aurum eyes watch you over the top of a letter. “These aren’t quite as urgent, so you can have a look at them later.”

“Mm,” the Count sighs into his cup for the fifth time, no doubt waiting for you to turn around to see what’s got him so down. Your eyes drift to the ostentatious bouquet of roses in the corner of the room, a soft, blush pink this time, before you squint at the seal on the last envelope. Placing it on top of the pile in front of him, you smile down at his pursed lips and pleading eyes.

You know the gentlemanly persona is just one of the many facets of the Count’s personality, and it seems to be the one he chooses to adopt when amongst company. Your relationship thus far has been nothing short of an adventure, complete with adversaries and sacrifices, and a man that can take your breath away with just one little smile.

He loves, and lives to spoil you. He delights in drawing you into his arms and kissing you as he stealthily clasps delicate necklaces around your neck and slips bracelets set with sparkling gems onto your wrists. It still makes you uncomfortable at times, but the way his eyes shine when he admires the way they rest against your skin, a pleased smile tugging at the corners of his lips–it kills any real motivation to protest.

And when he undresses you, with a soft-spoken request to keep the jewellery on, you’re hard-pressed to find any real reason to object. It’s all part of his favourite evening game; with you completely bare, wearing just the priceless trinkets he’s picked out for you. His seat of preference is the armchair he pulls up to the front of the bed, from where he calls out his requests for you. You can say no, you’re expected to tell him if anything makes you uncomfortable, but when he tells you to spread your legs a little more, to finger yourself a skosh slower, nearly panting as the smell of your arousal–all you feel is hot, dizzying lust.

To see the wild lust lurking beneath that noble veneer, to open your eyes, trembling through the aftershocks of an orgasm, and see the sheer hunger in his face as he strokes his cock. The way his fangs sink into you speaks of rapidly fraying control, sending agonizing ecstasy pumping through you as he makes you come again.

You enjoy teasing him. It’s a dangerous game to play in front of the ever-observant residents, especially a certain author who would love nothing more than to see you seduce their sire. You had nearly gotten caught just once, when he had had enough of your games.

A brush of your fingers, over his shoulder. A stroke of your thumb over his knuckles, and if you were feeling bold, weaving your fingers through his hair. A lingering kiss on the corner of his mouth and feel the air between you grow heavy. Just a quick pet at the nape of his neck and pulling away before he could lean into your touch.

He always catches on almost right away, and gives you serene smile in response, a gentle warning. Only once had his patience spun out of his control and he pinned you to a bookshelf in the library, slipping a hand under your dress as he crushed his mouth to yours, hissing when he discovered the lack of a barrier between your legs.

You were sure he would have taken you right there if not for the sudden, loud whistling of a jaunty tune–a hint that you weren’t alone in the library. Still, he had considered it for a moment. You could tell by the look on his face–all he had to do was make sure you stayed quiet.

But then Leonardo started singing, completely off-key and almost insistently, as if warning him off. It was the confused whispers from Isaac, no doubt wondering if Leonardo had lost his mind, that finally had your beau stepping away.

Even now, as you pour him his afternoon tea, you can feel his eyes doing a full sweep of your figure, longing and wondering. He’d been away on business for the past two weeks and you’ve missed him terribly. He had only gotten back yesterday, and you’ve somehow had your hands full with errands and tasks for the residents and no time to spend in his arms.

Although, if you must be perfectly honest, you have had a little fun leaving him with affectionate kisses and tender whispers before you rush off to attend to the next task.

“How is your day going, ma chérie?” he asks, accepting the cup with a soft smile.

“Well enough, I’d say. Sebas is going to teach me how to make coq au vin, so please look forward to that!” you inform him, stars in your eyes. You pretend not to notice the way his smile grows just a tad strained, no doubt at the realization that you’ll have your plate full today as well.

“I can’t wait to try it.” His sincerity is genuine, though, and you have to restrain yourself from climbing into his lap, striding over to the door instead. “Darling?”

You turn back to see him hesitating, searching your face for something before sinking back into his armchair.

“Have a wonderful day.”

There’s hunger in his eyes and your heart pounds within its cage.

“You too. I love you,” you add, unable to help it, and you’re glad you did because of the tiny smile curling along his mouth as he echoes the words back at you.

This waiting game can’t go on much longer. He hasn’t lost his composure the way you had secretly hoped to see, but it seems that his patience is running out.

You rarely find chances to spend together during the day, and today is no different. Dinner takes up much of your time, and after you find yourself swept up in conversation with Napoleon and Isaac, cleaning up takes more time than you had hoped.

As Sebastian shares what he had discovered about Napoleon’s sparring preferences, while you dissolve into helpless giggles at his enthusiastic reenactment as you scrub the dishes, the Count stops by for more tea.

“Ah, still here? It’s quite late, you must be tired.” He watches over the rim of his teacup as you study at a plate, before wiping at a barely-visible smudge.

“We’re nearly done, Sir. Not to worry though, it’s always fun when we work together,” your companion assures him, and you shoot him a quick grin.

“That’s right. And we do make a great time, don’t we?” You raise your hand, and with a half-hearted roll of his eyes, Sebastian smacks his palm against yours.

“I suppose we do.”

You turn to Comte just in time to catch his small smile, and your own fades slightly as he turns to leave with a low, murmured goodnight.

Even as you hurry through your bath, rushing to your room to change and don a thin robe, the hint of melancholy in his smile stays with you and apprehension courses through your veins.

It wasn’t quite jealousy. It’s tempting to play that game, but usually, you avoiding it. He’s a gentle, benevolent man, but the Count does not wear jealousy well. Thankfully, the only resident you run into on your way to his room is Vincent, who asks no questions, only wishing you a pleasant night with a knowing smile.

His chambers are empty and you find him standing in the balcony instead, the summer evening pleasant and soothing on your skin as you step out. His head is tilted back, and you realize he seems to be studying the night sky. With the soft, shimmering moonlight eager to paint him in its subtle tones, there’s an ethereal glow beneath his skin.

He shines brighter in the sunlight, but in this moment he truly looks like one untouched by the grasping hands of death in any of its forms, blessed by Selene herself or perhaps, she chose another form, one that is surely far more beautiful than any other. You wonder if that makes you Endymion, the spellbound mortal to his smitten immortal, desperate to do whatever it takes so you never leave his side, destined to be together forever–but only in your dreams.

“Come join me, ma chérie.” He sounds almost distracted, and curiosity bubbles up as you step up next to him.

He’s more underdressed than you’ve ever seen him outside his room; clad only in his white shirt and slim pants. He always appears to be svelte, but with the soft fabric stretching taut over his shoulders, clinging to his narrow waist, you can only try to keep your eyes off his backside. An unbuttoned collar reveals a slender neck, his tie hanging loosely over his chest, his sleeves rolled up to his toned forearms, a glass of half-finished blanc in one hand.

He doesn’t look away from the sky, staring at the stars as if they hold the answer to all his questions. You choose to look at the moon while it observes the stars, studying him quietly, wanting to get closer before thinking better of it and coming to a halt, waiting for him to gather his thoughts.

Always out of reach, but always returning to you.

Or perhaps you’re the moonflower instead. Yearning for the light, for it to find you. With its quiet, yet all-consuming love; too bright for you at times, but even if you close your eyes you know its there, its soft light embracing you, giving itself over to you and sinking into your bones, its love unchanging. You thrive in his arms, blooming to life at his touch, the marks left on your skin always fading but you’re content to keep the one left on your heart, a quiet claiming.

He sighs and rakes a hand through his hair, caramel bangs falling haphazardly over his forehead, before turning to you with a rueful smile that breaks you out of your musing. He finishes his drink with one last sip and sets the glass down to the side, on top of the balustrade.

“Forgive me, darling. I’m feeling a little out of sorts tonight.”

The muted atmosphere falls away as he turns his back on the sky to look at you, and you wonder if the stars think him foolish for it.

“Anything I can help with?” You take his hand in yours, clasping it between your palms and watch as a hint of mischief upturns his lips. And you realize it doesn’t matter if all the planets in the sky call you fools, as long as he never stops smiling at you.

“Perhaps. All day, I feel as if my most precious, mon trésor, has been a tad elusive.” He reaches out to tuck an errant lock of your ear behind your ear, his finger trailing down the length of your jaw as you tilt your head, adopting a thoughtful look.

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“Not at all,” he agrees, assuming a downcast expression, although his eyes still glint with purpose. “Every time I reach for her, she slips right through my fingers, leaving with me nothing but the memory of her warmth.”

“Oh, but that’s dreadful,” you gasp, holding his hand up to your chest. “What fool would try to elude you?”

He smiles a little, leaning in conspiratorially, his mouth ghosting the shell of your ear. You can barely keep from smiling as your stomach clenches in your anticipation.

“One who takes joy in teasing her poor, desperate lover,” he breathes, winding an arm around your waist as you try to slip away, your palms braced against his firm chest. “All day, she smiles at me, and with every smile I’m left wanting nothing more than to kneel before her and take everything she chooses to give me.”

His next breath leaves him on a shudder as you turn your head, your lips skimming the length of his jaw.

“With a man like you, is there really ever a choice? You make a woman want to give you everything she has.”

His smile is truer as he kisses the tip of your nose, while the hand on your hip inches lower. His eyes are bright, almost glowing and you’re struck mute as you watch his long lashes flutter. “As I should. After all, when a woman holds the power to take her lovesick fool apart with a smile, the fool can only try to aim for the same.”

“If this fool tries anymore, there won’t be anything left to take.”

“And, perhaps, then I’ll stop fearing her distance.” His lips trace the length of your neck, his nose pressing to your skin as he inhales deeply. “And the fear of her being ripped from my arms will fade.”

You press your lips to his temples, love and sadness tight leashes around your heart. “Then I suppose I’ll keep giving you everything I have.”

His palm slides further down to cup the swell of your rear. “Your love?”

You kiss his cheek. “You have it.”

His licks at the pulse point on your neck, and you tremble in his grasp. “Your body?”

“Yours.” A gasp leaves you when he sucks at the skin harshly, satisfied at the mark blooming to life. There’s a scrape of something sharp against soft flesh, and your knees grow weaker when you realize it’s the sharp-edged tip of a fang.

“Your happiness?” He tugs at the sash holding your robe together, loosening it to reveal your underthings. Brimming with his desire, his eyes are molten gold as they bore into yours.

“With you.” He kisses you, gentle and deep. Your hands meet at the nape of his neck, tugging him down so you can slip your tongue into his mouth. A low noise of protest escapes you as he pulls away to kiss his way up to your ear.

“And yet, you’ve been denying us both the pleasure of each other’s company.” He nips at the lobe of your ear, squeezing your ass gently, his tone dipping into something sly as he continues. “Then I see you laughing without a care with Sebastian. I...I cannot help but wonder if I’ve robbed you of the happiness you deserve.”

You can’t help the quick roll of your eyes. “Any happiness I deserve is the kind I want.” Your fist the hair at the back of his head, tugging it back to look him in the eyes. They waver in the face of your fierce affection, his lips parted as you tug harder, but you don’t back down. “And I want you.”

He sighs, but his chest quivers beneath your touch.

“Such ferocity. And no power in the world could make me give that up.” He isn’t teasing anymore, but he slips a thigh between your legs, using his grip on your ass to pull you forward. Your fingers dig into his shirt as you try not to gasp. “Ah, I’m afraid you are stuck with me.”

You run a hand through his hair as he ducks his head to pepper kisses all over your neck, and down to your collarbone.

His tongue draws slow, maddening circles over your skin. “So earlier in the kitchen...that wasn’t an attempt to drive me to jealousy?”

“I barely have to attempt, but no, it wasn’t.” You hide a sly smile in his hair. “Why, were you actually jealous?”

“I’ll admit I do find myself rather put out when I can’t have you all to myself. And knowing how deeply you’re coveted…” He pauses. “So you were playing games.” He lifts a breast from the soft fabric of your bustier, tucking the cloth underneath as he squeezes it gently. Even as your body begins to throb under his ministrations, you throw a nervous look over his shoulder to ensure nobody’s in the gardens. “And the roses you received in my absence?”

You roll your eyes, half-hearted this time, even as your heart attempts to inch its way to your throat. “A gift for you, no doubt, from your oldest friend.”

He chuckles, soft and dark, and it goes straight to your pussy “A gift for me they were not. Perhaps an attempt to entice my lady love while I was away?”

“A failed one, then. My heart is perfectly content where it is,” you retort, a pleased smile breaking across his expression before he clears his throat and looks at you seriously.

“Even so. The very thought of somebody else’s hands on you–a touch uninvited by us, that is–I will not stand for it.”

“What do you suggest we do, then?” A soft palm slips down his abdomen, and he smirks down at you.

“I have a few suggestions. Each more depraved than the previous, and none you will approve of.”

His mouth closes over a nipple, sucking harshly, and this time you do moan.

“So-somebody might hear us!” Even so, you push his thigh back to push your hips into his, your lips parting at the press of his clothed arousal between your legs.

“Good. I feel that they can all do with a reminder of who you chose. Including me.” He bites down and you’re helpless to your combined lust in the way you grind against his erection. “This should be a fact they can never forget.“

In a quick movement, he’s shifted your positions, leaving you half-sitting on the balustrade. And then he’s sinking down to his knees, urgently planting hot kisses on the inside of your thighs as he spreads them. You can’t tear your eyes away from the entrance to the balcony, afraid that someone will walk in.

A soft click catches your attention and, incredulous, you look down to see him looking all too pleased with himself, holding your foot up to admire a delicate anklet studded with–

“Those better not be real,” you warn, and he simply smiles at you, pressing his lips to your ankle as his other hand slides up your leg. His tongue traces the skin surrounding the jewelled band, and all the fight leaves you, not that there was much of it in the first place.

He looks happy, after all.

He pets your clothed sex, moving on too smoothly for your liking. “Sometimes, I wonder. What would they think, if they smell you on my breath?”

He pulls the barrier of your panties aside; you can barely suck in a breath before you feel his tongue, hot and deliberate as it sweeps along your glistening slit.

“My, my. You’re nearly drenched. Does making me suffer bring you this much pleasure?” he teases, smiling up at you before closing his lips around your swelling clit. Your teeth sink into your lip as you hold your voice back, but he presses his teeth to the flesh, almost biting lightly and a loud cry forces its way out. Your hands are wrapped around the surface of the railing, knuckles white with strain, and with each second he spends sucking at your bundle of nerves your moans get frustratingly louder. “Good girl, let me hear you.”

You freeze when voices from the garden reach your straining ears. His tongue pushes past your entrance.

He won’t stop.

You can feel it building in you, the slow, familiar sweep of pleasure ready to greet you, and you know you don’t really want the others to hear you scream as you come. Your thoughts begin to cloud over, and you have to act.

“Please?” you whimper, threading your fingers through his hair. He freezes in place. “Not here.”

He peeks up at you, groaning when he catches sight of your face, lower lip jutting out and eyes pleading with him. “Princess, how am I supposed to punish you when you make that face?”

“I’m sorry,” you say as sincerely as possible, your smile clear in your voice.

“I shouldn’t be lenient,” he mutters, kissing the skin where your thigh meets your hip. “And it’s so lovely out here.”

You reach down to cup his cheek, unwavering in the face of his pouting. It’s the Van Gogh brothers down in the gardens, and you’re sure one of them will end you if you subject his brother to the sight of the Count taking you in the balcony. “Do you really want someone to see us?”

He hums, kissing your palm. “Maybe.”

You fight to keep the grin off your face as you school your face into something thoughtful and shy. “I could...I could show you how I’ve been touching myself while you’ve been away. I’ve missed you so much, I...did it almost every day.”

He stares at you.

“You, mon coeur, are bad, bad woman.” Desire flashes, burning bright, in his eyes. “Fine, if that’s what you wish.”

You can only laugh as, before you can feign innocence, he sweeps you into his arms, tugging your robe closed as he practically sprints through the doors. His growls at the way you lick down his neck are warnings, the flash of his fangs at you arousing you more than you would have once thought possible.

“I couldn’t sleep last night, wondering if I should just give in and sneak into your room. Wake you up with a sweet kiss or with your cock in my mouth,” you whisper in his ear, sucking at his earlobe. “You always like that.”

“___,” he warns, even as his grip tightens. “I’m not joking, my love. Say another word and you’ll live to regret it.”

You nod solemnly. He looks satisfied as you grow closer to his chambers. Just as the doors are in sight, you catch his attention with a quick oh!

“I used the hairbrush you gave me once. Just a little bit–”

He kicks the doors open and tosses you on the bed, striding back to slam them shut. There’s that dark, unforgiving sort of lust in his eyes and it’s exactly what you’ve been craving. You slip your robe off your shoulders as his thumbs hook into the waistband of your panties, leaning over you to get them off as you pull the bustier over your head.

“On your back. Spread your legs, you know what to do. I want you ready for me.” He brushes your hair away from your forehead. “And darling–you will not come.”

Your fingers pause in their light stroking.

“Comte?”

“I know you heard me. Your first for the night will be with me. Allow me this, please.” He runs a warm palm up the length of your leg, and to your slight surprise, he takes a seat next to you instead. “Go on, show me.”

You’re inexplicably nervous at first, with him looming over you, but with the way his hands glide over every inch of your skin, tender yet possessive, and his mouth sampling wherever it pleases–it doesn’t take long before your hips are jerking up into your hand. His fingers caress your soft breasts, tugging at the pebbled peaks, sucking until they appear nearly swollen.

You peek up at him, catching the slight bob of his throat as he looks at the fingers sinking into your heat. You don’t think twice before slipping them out and holding them up to his mouth, and he takes them into his mouth with a soft groan and you take this wonderful opportunity to peek at the tent at the front of his pants.

“I didn’t tell you to stop,” he says, but doesn’t stop licking until your skin is free of your slick.

“You just looked so hungry, I couldn’t help it.” He doesn’t argue and doesn’t fight you when you pull him down next to you. He just watches you, fervent and patient, breath growing heavier as you unbutton his shirt before shifting your attention to his pants, tugging them down his toned thighs, smiling at the wet spot in his silk underpants before you help him pull them off.

His hips jerk up when your tongue circles his nipples, his hands digging into the sheets as you lick a warm path across his collarbone, a choked groan leaving him when your hand sneaks past his neglected cock to cup his balls. But as you’d suspected, his patience is nowhere to be found tonight as he groans and yanks you up into a torrid kiss.

“I thought you were going to punish me,” you manage to ask in between his heated kisses, hot jolts of arousal sparking through you at his weak moans as you stroke his cock, spreading his slick along the length.

“Later,” he mumbles, dragging his tongue along your jaw, his abdomen taut as he twists under your touch. “Later. I need you.”

He sits up, his tongue still licking into your mouth, and his hands are everywhere. On the nape of your neck, down your spine, digging into your waist, squeezing your ass. Urgent, needy sounds escape his mouth and send your blood pumping through you.

It’s one of those nights.

You hold him close, even as he moans at the slow rut of your hips against his, your dripping entrance sliding over his length and back, and his fingers dig into your skin as he looks at you through half-lidded eyes, lips never too far from yours.

There are times when he loves a slow, unhurried seduction, to woo you and take his time pampering you. And there are times when he all he needs is to lose himself in your heat, needs you to peel back his carefully crafted layers and dig into the man underneath, to pull him out and hold him to your chest. This man who loses his composure, who throws his head back on a near-silent moan as you sink onto his length, who clings to you as you begin a quick, harsh tempo.

“I’ve got you,” you whisper, your voice breaking, spine arching when he slips in deeper. “I’ve got you.”

He holds on to your hips when you falter, stopping you from rising up and keeping his cock deep in you. “Ma moité. If I could, I would stay here forever. I would keep you in my bed, bury myself in you and never move again.”

“Fu-,” you gasp as he grinds deeper, as if trying to gain access to your very soul, to get his hands on what makes you you and hoard it for himself. He thrusts up, his grip on your hips helping you move against him, forcing you harder onto his cock.

“Mm. Je t'aime et je t'aimerai pour toujours.” You shudder as his honeyed tone roughens into a rumble. He kisses you, hard and fast, and your mind can’t muster up a coherent thought as he bounces you in his lap.

Comte stops to rise to his knees and press you into the bed, hooking your legs around his waist. He continues to push deeper, with his cock and his body, until your legs are bent, thighs nearly touching your sides.

“Hold on tight, darling.”

You’re going to need tomorrow off, you realize in a distant part of your mind as he rears back to slam his hips into yours. Your head crashes back into the plush mattress, muscles straining as you try to meet his thrusts. The refined persona sheds completely and his fangs slip out, and your breath catches in your throat, your cunt clenching tight in the face of the other side of him. His hair is in complete disarray, falling wildly around him, his eyes are all greed and lust, but his hands are gentle as they slip into yours and pin them above your head.

“You’re so beautiful. So bright,” he murmurs, pressing rough kisses over your breasts, groaning at the taste of your skin. And you can only laugh, at this moon turned man kissing his devotion onto your skin when you’re burning inside out with desire and elation, when you’ve managed to draw the moon down into your arms and hold him in your arms.

“I love you,” you sob, trembling with the force of his thrusts and the ardour in his gaze. The anklet jiggles where it hangs over your ankle. You drop your head back, baring your throat to him and you can feel him struggle with his overwhelming need as he whines low in his throat and leans in.

“And I love you.”

His fangs graze your skin ever so lightly even as he pounds into you, and with one last thought of how there probably hadn’t been any point in retreating to the bedroom, you scream as his fangs break through the barrier of your skin. One of his hands slips between your legs, pressing insistently.

“My name, ma chérie. Say my name.”

It leaves you on a broken moan as you come hard around him, your walls squeezing him frantically, and his hips stutter as he continues to suck greedily, his sinful moans muffled by your skin. You can’t stop trembling as he pumps himself into you, mind-numbing pleasure stealing your mind away. His mouth leaves your skin just as he loses control, a warmth filling your trembling sex as you watch him swallow dazedly.

His pupils are blown almost completely wide as his licks around the edges of his lips, hips slowing to a stop as you both look at each other, chests heaving, skin slick with sweat. His blinks rapidly at the taste of your blood, looking half-intoxicated, eyes raking over your flushed skin and wild hair.

“...are you alright?” he asks gently, and you can’t quite speak just yet, nodding mutely in response. He licks the puncture wound clean, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you up, shuffling around the bed until he relaxes back into the pillows with you clinging to him, his softening length still buried in you. “Could we stay like this for a while?”

“Mm. Yes, please,” you finally mumble, and he holds you tighter, smoothing his hand up and down your back. “Feels nice.”

He laughs softly, and you muster up all your strength to shift up and kiss him straight on the mouth, the taste of copper strong on your tongue. You brush past it insistently, tangling your tongue with his as you swallow his soft noises. He keeps you there, breath mingling, smiling fondly as you fight to keep your eyes open, your skin pleasantly warm against his.

His skin is bright with the afterglow, every line of his face relaxed, and you marvel at how unguarded he looks right now. Even now, moonlight falls in through the windows, trying to reach him, but he’s content to kiss the tip of your nose with a soft mwah, repeating it despite your complaints about sweat. You return it, stretching up to reach his nose, and it turns into a swift exchange of kisses until you’re both smiling like complete fools.

“...Did you really use the hairbrush?” He sighs softly, tucking your head under his chin. “I would love to see that, but I can always get you better toys.”

Your responding snort is more amused than disgruntled. “Would that include ones I can use on you?”

He’s quiet for a moment, before pressing his slow smile into your hair, the rise and fall of his chest steady under your cheek.

“Mm. Anything you want.”

Translations:

ma chérie: my darling

mon trésor: my treasure

Mon moité: my (other/better) half

Je t'aime et je t'aimerai pour toujours: I love you and I will always love you/I will love you forever

ending note bc I can’t shut up: the moon was so gorgeous last night, I actually stepped out to get a better look. It seemed to have an almost golden tint to it, which made me think ‘Ah, yes. Comte.’ And then I rushed back in. Yes I’m that b*tch. Romance, baby. its 6 am i havent slept

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp comte #ikemen vampire comte #le comte de saint germain #ikevam comte #will i ever stop rambling nervously in my posts #a question for the universe #ok i've agonized long enough #im posting and going to bed #IM DONE #any editing will have to wait till i wake up #if i f*cked up somewhere...pm me plz #ikevamp #ikevam

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twilitty · 4 years ago

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Moonlit ch.2

This is the second chapter in my new fic Moonlit, it will be posted on Tumblr, ao3, and ffnet. New chapters uploaded every week and a half. Message/comment to be added to my tag list.

3.9k words

previous chapter

big thank you to my beta reader @effervescentlyirrevocable who has given me the absolute best criticism and helped make this chapter so beautiful :)

Bella Swan is introduced to a possible new friend and receives a gift. The doctors new family may not be as well adjusted to small town life as Charlie would like.

Chapter Two

The next morning I wake up to a growl of thunder beating against the inside of my skull. I had a night of thankfully restful sleep for once, only waking up to get a glass of water. My hands are clasped against my chest, fingers knotted in annoyance as I hold back what likely will be a spill of expletives. Why must there always be noise? Why can I not sleep soundly and awake soundly, just once?

I open one eye experimentally, hoping the sun has already arisen and I won’t be missing out on any leftover sleep. My room is shrouded in darkness. The expletives, swear words crude enough to make a priest gag, spill out in a muttered breath and my hands squeeze against each other once more before reaching for my alarm clock. The red numbers blink back at me and it takes my eyes a moment to adjust to the light before I read the time. Nine in the morning. I look back to the window where my blinds are drawn closed, but still no light, even filtered through the canopy of clouds, peaks at the edges.

The thunder, which had gone quiet after waking me up initially, rolls again for a moment before silencing itself. Only, was it thunder? It sounded heavy, like machinery but with a deeper growl. Was there construction nearby? I didn’t recall any on my few trips up and down the street, and I question why there would need to be any construction anyways. It’s not as if this is a booming neighbourhood with a subdivision being built.

Charlie knocks against my door, quieter than yesterday. “Bella, it’s time to get up.” You’d imagine that with my age being nearly twenty and my status as a legal adult I’d be allowed to choose my own time to wake up. My annoyance dies down quickly when my thoughts bounce back to Phoenix, waking up early each morning to drive Mom into her early morning classes. Nine in the morning really isn’t that early, in fact, it allows me time to get some chores done before class. “Someone has dropped by.”

My lips contort into an annoyed pucker. Who would have stopped by? Mom had warned me before the move that nothing but rumours and nasty mold comes from Forks. Apparently her quick marriage to Charlie, and even quicker pregnancy with me, was enough gossip to fuel conversations for years. I remember a trip to Forks at eight years old, a woman had stopped my mother in the grocery store and asked her over for coffee. “They just want the inside scoop,” Renee had told me afterwards, “Give them anything and they’ll find a way to make it ugly.”

My bare feet brush the ground and a flash of cold spreads up my shins. Apparently, even in spring, the weather is dangerously cold. I tell Charlie I’ll be downstairs in a moment, pulling on a pair of jeans and thermal socks. I was hoping for a relaxing day alone, just me, my sweatpants, and the laptop. I compromise on the socks, regardless of who is downstairs, my toes will not be cold today.

I pull the blinds open, the lawn stretching out beside the house is bathed in shadowy darkness despite the morning hour. The forest that lines our property, secluding us from the neighbours, is eerie and mysterious. The green tones that I initially found alien and too bright are now gone and replaced with navy. I wait a moment, staring into the trees, my thoughts rambling into fairytale imaginations.

My brain conjures an image of a man, tall and insidious, stepping out of the tree line, long claws attached to his fingers and a nasty grin revealing pointed teeth. His shirt is ripped in the front, a long tear reaching from throat to navel and from inside the shirt tufts of hair stick out. No, not hair, fur. He growls menacingly.

I close the blinds quickly and blink against the pictures my brain throws at me.

The landline rings downstairs and startles me, a jolt of anxious adrenaline surging through my cold feet and up into my heart. Maybe one of the reasons I enjoyed Phoenix’s barren, plain landscape was that I would not be subjected to such terrible thoughts. I remember being twelve and watching Scream with my mother, she was on a horror movie kick and had rented a whole stack of DVDs for us to watch. That night when I was tired but my eyes refused to close as I didn’t want to imagine what could be lurking outside my bedroom window. Crawling into my mother’s bed, she ran her warm palm against my forehead and hummed a song until I calmed down.

“Bella,” she had said quietly, the nurturing lilt of her voice expanding my heart, “We live in a desert. You can see for miles and miles and miles, if some bad man was coming we’d see him from forty minutes away.” I giggled quietly into the comforter, our bodies pressed against each other in near sleep and my mother’s hands maneuvering through my hair with expertise.

Now, I look out at the grassy lawn from a crack between the blinds. It resembles the set of a slasher movie, the forest borders it with every possibility my imagination can muster. I can see a man from four seconds away, not forty minutes.

There's a chorus of male laughter from below and I sigh, assuming this is my cue to go downstairs and meet with whoever has stopped in.

Charlie is sitting in the living room, facing me and his back to the television which is decidedly blank. On the couch is a head of glossy, black hair. Beside him is a wheelchair with an older man sitting in it, a mug clasped between dark hands. I curse whatever forces brought these strangers into the house so early, I am not in the mood for interaction. I was hoping for a bowl of oatmeal and a quiet morning.

“Hey!” Charlie braces his hands on his knees and pushes out of the armchair. His face is split in half with a grin. I can’t recall him smiling this large in the past week of my stay. The two men turn, facing me with warm smiles.

One of them is older, perhaps Charlie's age, his mouth creased with smile lines and his eyes wrinkled with sun damage. His skin is a warm russet brown, his eyes deep-set behind pronounced brows and a large smile. Bright white teeth stare back at me as my brain picks over his features, how do I know this man? I know almost immediately that he’s Quileute, from the Reservation to the west of town. I vaguely remember trips to the beach with Charlie and eating hotdogs over fires with some of the children from the area.

“Do you remember me, Bella?” He asks in a deep, commanding tone. His voice transports me back to the beach, collecting colourful rocks with the other kids and being called to dinner. Billy Black. He lives in a small, red house with a large kitchen perfect for gatherings. He’s older than I remember, but my last time being here for any substantial time was nearly four years ago.

“Dad, c’mon,” the boy says with a sarcastic eye roll. He stands from the couch, his height towering mine by a few inches and his broad shoulders slumped forward happily. I wonder how tall he’d be if he stood to his full height. His voice is deep, not as deep as his father’s, but still an indicator of the family resemblance. Where his father is strong and sure, this boy is aloof and casual. Jacob Black. “She hasn’t been back in ages, she probably blocked your nasty attitude out of her memory.”

I bite back a smile, but Billy laughs and shoots Charlie a look that says, kids, am I right? I step forward and extend my hand to Jacob, who takes it gratefully in his own and gives a soft shake. His hand covers mine and is most definitely a few degrees warmer than I am. “Jacob Black, we used to make mud pies together.”

“Best in town,” Charlie adds in from the back of the room. I smile.

“No, no, I remember you guys,” I tell the Blacks. “It just took me a moment.” Charlies sits back down in his chair and motions for me to take a seat.

“Billy and Jake just stopped by,” my father explains. I sit beside Jacob on the couch, a cushion between us. But, even with the provided space and the lack of physical contact, I feel heat come off of him in waves like a radiator. I wonder if he’s sick. “Jake here is a mechanic.” A furious blush settles under the boy's brown skin as his mechanical skills are brought up, this is my first time hearing of his expertise. I remember his sisters being twins, both tall and beautiful with matching smiles. They were almost two years older than me, Jacob had followed closely behind and was only born in the same six months as me. Of course, now that I try to remember, the date falls short in my memory. It’s possible he has a career as a mechanic somewhere on the Reservation, but he mustn’t work in Forks. I hadn’t seen a single mechanics garage in town.

“No, no,” he looks between me and my father with an apologetic smile, “it’s just a hobby. Something for fun.” Billy tsks at his son, shaking his head in a way that makes me believe this conversation has occurred before.

“Hobbies can bring in money, hobbies can turn into jobs,” the older man says with a scolding tone. Jacob just shakes his head crookedly, not responding. Charlie takes this as his cue to interrupt the trajectory of the conversation, and I’m grateful. I haven’t spoken to these men in nearly four years, that last place I want to be is in the middle of a family feud.

“Well, now, there was a reason I brought up Jake’s skills,” Charlie interjects with a wave at the large boy next to me. “Bells, go take a look outside.” My fingers twitch anxiously in my lap at being thrust into the center of the conversation. I was hoping I could slide under the radar here, not end up in the middle of it.

It takes great restraint for me to get up from the couch and not stumble over my ankles in the act, my clumsiness reaches new heights when I’m being watched by a room of people. Even if there are only three people in the room. The window at the end of the room is open, the curtains pulled to the side, and when I reach it my gaze falls on a group of kids biking down the street with a rainbow of helmets. Apparently, the dark sky doesn’t scare them the way it does me.

They pedal quickly, little screams of delight just barely audible through the thick glass of the living room window. They pass the porch and disappear behind a large red truck parked out front of the house. I blink. It’s still there, rounded fenders and shiny door handles, long bed, ancient grill adorning the hood. It’s beautiful. “Is that your truck, Billy?” There’s a chorus of laughter behind me, the men’s baritones mixing and producing a flaming blush starting at my neck and creeping up into my face. I turn to look at them, my stomach clenching as I turn away from the beautiful vehicle. “What?”

“It’s yours, Bella,” Charlie tells me. The breath I was holding leaves my lungs through my gaping mouth, I struggle to close it and take an experimental inhale. “Bella?” I turn and look back out the window, the glorious truck still sits there staring at me from across the dark lawn. I can only imagine how beautiful it is in the sunlight.

“I- it’s mine?” I ask. Another series of laughs echo through and then footsteps come up beside me, Jacob stands looking out the window. “You made it?” I question, looking up at him.

His shoulders shake silently and his lips press together as he tries to compose himself, I’m not sure why he finds my comment so funny but it reignites my blush. “I fixed it up, yeah. But, don’t get too excited. The thing runs at sixty miles max, push her further than that and you’ll be walking home.”

We all go outside quickly, me leading the pack with an excited skip in my step. It’s a miracle I didn’t fall on my face or stumble over my words as I spoke my thoughts aloud. “It’s so pretty, I love it! Jake, I have no idea how you could make it look so perfect.” The truck sits against the curb, its red paint flaking in places around the tires, but even more perfect than I could have imagined.

The sky is a disturbing shade of grey, a fact that irritates me more outside than it did in the house. Why does the weather have to ruin such a perfectly good moment? But I spend the majority of my time on the vehicle, petting its sides carefully like I might damage it. Finally, seemingly having had enough of me quietly admiring the vehicle, Billy tells me to hop in and check it out on the inside.

Jacob produces a set of keys, no automatic locking mechanism, and twists it in the truck's door handle. He holds the door open for me, producing a hand to help me in. I take it gratefully, stepping up into the driver’s seat and letting myself sink into the seat. Jacob closes the door on me, but my thoughts are lost and focused only on how much I love this truck.

“So,” he says after opening the passenger door and climbing up next to me, “You ever driven a truck before?” I shake my head, fingers curving experimentally around the thin steering wheel. I can see myself now: driving down the empty highway, the sun blinding against the dry pavement, window down and hair blowing, radio blaring. It’s exactly what I needed, a way for me to get around without needing to borrow the cruiser (which, yes, is illegal) or have Charlie drive me around.

“I can give you lessons,” Jake offers, fingers clasped in his lap, drumming a tune against the opposite knuckles. “If not that’s cool, but she drives a little funny.” “She?” I ask, eyes leaving the steering wheel momentarily to watch his face. He notices, the serene expression dropping from his face and replaced with a quick upturn of his lips.

“Uh, yeah.” He palms the back of his neck roughly and seems almost apologetic. “I have a thing for cars, y’know, so naming them is kinda part of the deal.” I can barely make out a faint red tinge over his cheeks. “Wait, hold on,” I can’t contain the giggle that slips out but firmly press my lips together before trying again. I can only imagine the toothy smile I’m giving him, a girl all too excited over some old truck. Only, this is the perfect old truck. “What’s her name?”

“Betty,” he responds sheepishly, his hand still massaging the back of his neck. “But if you tell anybody that I’ll have to kill you.”

“That’s okay, Betty is our secret.”

And, just like that, I now have a secret with someone. Does this make us friends? Regardless of whatever it makes us, my heart sings happily from within my chest, excited to think that maybe Forks won’t be as lonesome as it’s been this past week. Maybe Jacob and I will become friends and bond over Betty and I won’t only have Charlie and school and books.

“Well, before you accept her turn the keys,” Jacob instructs. I oblige, setting the keys in the ignition and giving them a gentle twist. A roar of mechanical thunder envelopes us. I nearly leap out of my seat in surprise, the loud rumbling of the engine settling in my ears and blocking out all other noises. Jake says something but I can barely hear him from over the thunderous growl of Betty. I turn the keys back and the truck dies down with one last rumble. “She’s loud,” he says obviously.

“She’s perfect.”

Jacob hands me a spare set of keys after we get out, telling me that he’ll be back the day after tomorrow to give me my first driving lesson in the truck. Charlie was all too excited with that idea, even though I already have my license and know how to drive. In fact, other than illegally borrowing the cruiser with Charlie’s permission, I have never committed an illegal act involving a vehicle. If memory serves me correctly, Charlie has two speeding tickets from his youth.

But, I don’t argue against Jake's offer. In fact, I thank him profusely and promise to pay him for the lessons. “Bella,” he says in an exasperated way, as if we’ve known each other for years and I always say such supposedly outlandish things. “Why would you pay me for something I’m offering to you?”

We’ve stopped in front of the Blacks vehicle, a large brown and beige truck which seems to only be a decade newer than the red one. This isn’t saying much for the brown vehicle as the red one could be from the fifties. Billy is wheeling his way down the driveway with Charlie walking beside him, laughing emphatically at something his friend had said.

“That’s crazy,” I respond with a shake of my head. “That’s like me not paying you for the truck.”

“Yeah, I know.” I take pause at this, the words welling up inside my brain and the meaning lost to me for only a moment. Then, like finally finding the missing puzzle piece under the table, I understand what this means and the picture is clear.

“You- I- This truck isn’t free.” The words stutter out of me, the first two the beginnings of messages I abandoned immediately after starting them. This truck, though old, is not cheap, and neither is Jakes’s skill. I should pay him for labour if nothing else, but I know he doesn’t want to include that in the bill. He doesn't want to send me a bill.

“It’s a gift,” he states simply with a shrug of his wide shoulders. Billy pulls up beside me, slapping away Charlie's hand as he tries to adjust his chair for him.

“Careful, Swan,” the older Black warns with hostility. “I have more muscle in these arms than you do in your entire body. Touch the chair and you’ll get what’s coming to you.”

Jacob helps Billy into the passenger seat, folding up the wheelchair and securing it into the truck bed with quick hands. Charlie stands beside me, shooting fiery threats back and forth with his friend until Jacob climbs behind the wheel. “Storm coming through,” Jacob says with a wave towards the dark sky. “If you need any help with anything, tying stuff down or moving let me know.” Charlie thanks him for the offer and I lean in to thank him again for the truck and the lessons. I also assure him that the argument over billing is far from over and that he’ll get an earful the next time we meet.

The rest of the day is spent restlessly. I log into my online classes but my attention is continuously claimed by my truck in front of the house. The sun never shows itself, content with hiding behind the cloud coverage. I’m sitting in the living room when Charlie gets home for dinner, my book discarded on the couch somewhere beside me. I reach for it once I see his cruiser pull into the driveway, deciding it would be better to look busy than to look like I’m obsessing over my new means of transportation.

“Bella?” He calls, the door shutting behind him with a creak. At some point I’ll have to oil all the hinges in the house. It’s that or I go clinically insane from the constant noise.

“Yeah, just in here.”

He comes in bearing a brown bag with the Forks Diner logo written on the side. “I brought dinner, it’ll be on the stove.” I nod and thank him, telling him that we can eat together once he’s down and out of uniform. “Well, actually, I won’t be eating until a bit later.” His moustache twitches irritably and he disappears into the kitchen to drop the food off.

“Are you meeting with Billy?” I ask, knowing this isn’t the case. It must be an issue with work causing him to feel stressed. And when he comes back into the living room from the kitchen I’m able to see the tension holding his shoulders in place. “Did something happen at work?” “It’s nothing to worry about,” he assures me, but his words do anything but. So much for police chief being a boring job. “Just those new kids in town, the doctors children,” he waves a hand in the air as if trying to gather his thoughts. “Kicking up trouble in their first week here, something about racing.”

“Oh.” I pull my knees under me and turn to face him fully, my arms hanging over the back of the couch like a child.

“Anyways, no big deal I’m sure they’re just used to city life or something.” But, my fathers tone indicates that he most definitely does not believe his own words. In Charlie's books a bad apple is always a bad apple, and he’s probably dreading all the other trouble these kids will kick up. “I’ve just gotta go check-in with them, make sure it doesn’t happen again.” His hand moves towards my arm, as if to pat me goodbye but it stutters midair, falling back to his side awkwardly.

I pull my bottom lip into my mouth, biting on it as he mutters a goodbye and leaves through the front door without looking at me again. I wonder when this will get any easier.

Renee left Charlie a year into their young marriage, taking me away to live with her in Arizona. She had given me partial reasons over the years for her leaving, talking of them being too young, the weather too wet, how she wanted a life where she could be free from responsibilities. I’m not sure whether it dawned on her that a child constitutes a responsibility, but she took me to every yoga class and rarely left me with a babysitter.

My mother was never too keen on Forks, not that I fault her for it, the weather leaves much to be desired and there’s virtually nothing to do. But, because of her disliking I rarely visited my father, my first extended visit being when I was twelve and stayed the entire summer as Renee travelled with her then-boyfriend. I came back to a scrapbook of kissy photos and pressed leaves from her travels, all I had to show for my trip was a runny nose and a strong distaste for hamburgers. One can only eat so many burgers before the novelty wears off.

taglist: @musingsofvenus @maybesandohnos

#twilight #edward cullen #bella swan #jasper #the twilight saga #carlisle #twilight saga #smeyer #2008 #twilight renaissance #fanfic #jacob/Bella #Bella/Jacob #Jacob x Bella #Bella x Jacob #twilight fanfiction #twilight fanfic #mine

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justjessame · 4 years ago

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Starting Over Chapter 17

Now I know most people would think that hearing their best friend dangling a carrot of temptation like “did you go through ANYTHING in the shed” would have them rushing out with a flashlight to their backyard and unlocking the damn thing to see what might be waiting for them. Or at the very least, since it was starting to grow dark, a slightly less dramatic start might be the bedroom across the fucking hall from theirs?

Yeah, well, I’ve never really checked the “normal” box on any fucking form and coming back from where the fuck ever Thanos the big purple peckerhead snapped me off to didn’t change that personality trait. Sorry to disappoint.

If Connie was coming over to force me to face whatever was in my dad’s workshop and whatever else my parents left me, with Bryn in tow, I should probably make sure that I had something to keep her mini me occupied. After I grabbed a sandwich, some chips, and glass of tea I headed up to my room - where a stash of my childhood shit that I kept “just in case” lived and hoped I could find something that the three year old would find fascinating.

Morning dawned as they had since I returned. Gasping, shivery, but now with the addition of the murmurs from the television that I left on thanks to Bucky Barnes. My hand was reaching for my cell phone before I made the conscious decision to do it, and I sighed when I didn’t see a pineapple waiting for me. It was still early, so I took a beat to run through my mental checklist of what I’d put in place downstairs for Bryn.

I’d taken my copies of the princess movies downstairs along with a few dolls and some picture books that I’d loved. There was a tea set and a few stuffies and I hoped that she wouldn’t be too bored while her mommy was dealing with my bullshit.

While I was considering what I should make for lunch, or if I should toss together something for breakfast too, my phone chirped. It was still beside me on the bed, so I didn’t have to reach. Thinking it would be Connie, I lifted it up - I had never seen a phone number like it before, but there it was - my pineapple. I shook my head even as my smile grew. At least I knew he was alive. That was one good thing going for me today.

Connie called a few minutes later, telling me that she’d be over after she got Bryn cleaned up after breakfast - answering one of my questions right off the bat. I told her I’d hop in the shower and be waiting for them.

“Don’t make a fuss,” she warned me. “Bryn’s three, the fact that she’s never been to your house makes it like Disneyworld automatically.” I rolled my eyes. “I mean it, Brooke.”

“I know you do, Connie,” I agreed, sliding out of bed and moving to the closet to grab something to wear, but then I realized that I didn’t know what we were about to do. “Um, are we going to be digging into something dusty and gross?”

She snorted and when I didn’t react she went so silent I thought she hung up on me, but a check of the phone told me she was still there. “You’re joking?” I assured her I wasn’t. “What the fu -” she stopped and I waited while she apologized to Joey, apparently Bryn was picking up some “adult language” and sharing it with the other children at daycare and preschool - I snorted, like those kids didn’t already hear that shit at home. “What would your dad have in his workshop that we’d need to DIG, Brooke?” I could HEAR her eyes rolling. “Wear what you normally do, you fu -” I heard her groan and mutter to herself about politically correct nonsense. “Go shower, we’ll be there in about an hour.”

I had ice tea, soda, juice, and water, along with some of Bucky’s beer in the fridge, but I highly doubted that Connie would consent to letting Bryn partake in that. I was showered and dressed, and was taking stock of the kitchen while I waited for them to come. I had sandwich stuff on hand, along with some staples, and if all that failed there were enough takeout menus in the drawer to keep us fed.

The knock came at around the hour mark, and when I opened the door Bryn was staring up at me like she was seeing me for the very first time - again. She really did look around the house like it was an adventure, and I could see the “I told you so” building in Connie’s face.

Showing them the living room, where I’d set up the “play area”, you’d have thought Christmas came early. The tiny tot squealed and clapped her hands, then she was having a tea party with the dolls and stuffies after choosing the first princess movie to play while they partied. I supplied the “tea” -water, Connie insisted - promising I’d thank her during the cleanup, while filling a sippy cup with some juice for the hostess.

With Bryn occupied, I thought we’d get to work, but Connie shook her head and pulled me into the dining room, adjacent to the living room so we could keep an eye and ear on Bryn. With glasses of tea in front of us, she sighed and I got worried.

“When IT happened,” Connie was looking at her glass, finger tracing a drop of condensation as it dripped down the glass. “I started calling you immediately. As soon as the news hit, as soon as the first moment we knew SOMETHING was going on -” She looked up and I nodded, I figured she would have, along with Mom and Dad. “Your dad came home, he ran to your room because he knew you’d planned on staying in and being lazy.” Connie smiled, the memory of Dad making her sad, but also nostalgically happy.

I opened my mouth, but was at a loss for what to say. What could I say? It’s ok? I was Snapped into non-existence, but I’m here now, so we’re cool? I mean, we were, but clearly she wanted to tell me something.

“He ran in, seeing a thousand texts and calls from me, but it was what he FELT that got him.” I squinted at her, confused. She reached out and took my hand. “When I came over, since I couldn’t get in touch with you, he was with your mom and she was in pieces - falling apart because you weren’t here and everything that you’d take with you if you went out was still here, but he wasn’t. He was adamant, Brooke, absolutely adamant that you were coming back.” “He was hopeful, Connie, that’s all.” She shook her head and I sighed, but her hand squeezed mine.

“Your dad and mom were the MOST pragmatic people I’ve ever known, Brooke. Hell, everyone in this neighborhood agrees.” I knew what she meant, our family was the no nonsensical, straight to the point people. We didn’t do sugarcoating. “When Baxter got hit by the car when we were ten -” I rolled my eyes, her dog, a sweet darling of a mutt. “Everyone, including my brothers were telling me that he was gonna be fine, that he was gonna pull through and live to play fetch another day, but your dad took me aside and -”

“Told you that sometimes dogs don’t pull through, that sometimes they’re not strong enough, but not to worry because you took Baxter to the Feast of St. Francis and he was blessed and that meant that he’d be safe on the other side and waiting for you.” I remembered, vividly because I’d been just as sad and upset.

“Exactly. So when a man like your dad, Andrew Ashley, tells me that you and all the other people who disappeared into nothing are going to come back one day? I believe him.” She gave my hand another squeeze and I thought, ok now we can get to work, but she wasn’t done. “Your mom, she didn’t get there as fast.” She let my hand go and took a drink from her glass. “She avoided your room like you’ve been avoiding the shed and their bedroom.” She was smirking at the knowledge that she knew me so well. “When I found out I was pregnant, I wanted something of yours with me, Brooke.”

“That’s where it went,” I shook my head and she grinned at me. “I wondered, it’s hung in my window since I came home from that nightmare.”

“Since WE came home from that nightmare, you mean.” Connie’s smile was firmly locked in place. “I called up your mom and told her the news, asking for something to keep with me, and she finally went into your room.” I waited, wondering why it took crossing a threshold into a damn room for something to click into place? “And that was it, Alice Ashley came out just as convinced as your dad. She looked so much more at peace, Brooke. She went along with your dad, but knowing it for herself, it was like a weight came off of her.”

“So they just knew?” I didn’t get it, not even a little bit. “How?”

Connie shook her head. “No idea, but I do know this - when two of the most stocic and staid people in the community tell you that people will come back, you believe them. And I did.”

“What’s in the shed?” I wanted a head’s up. Some kind of hint, something to go on. “Why do you think it’s important for me to know now?”

“It’s important, dumbass,” she shot a look toward the living room and let out a relieved breath when she realized that Bryn hadn’t heard her slip. “Because what’s in the shed has been there since BEFORE you got Snapped into wherever, but we’re not going there first. We’re going upstairs.”

“Upstairs?” I was confused and only growing more so. “Why?”

Connie sighed, like she was sick of my shit already. “It’s time to show you that your parents knew you better than you know yourself, Brooke.”

Bryn’s tea party became a portable one. Upstairs to my room, where she got to play on the floor while the television played another princess movie. She was having fun, which made one of us.

My parents’ bedroom door loomed far larger than it really was - and it was firmly closed.

“Open it, Brooke.” Connie nudged me, and I bit my lip. “For God’s sake, it’s a door.”

“Yeah, it is.” I agreed, a door that I wasn’t really excited to open. What if Mom’s perfume lingered? What if Dad’s cologne does? What if nothing about them lingers? I took a deep breath and reached for the doorknob.

The room looked the same, but foreign. A hint of both of them seemed to lurk just out of reach, as if I could almost grasp it if I could find it, but where was it?

Their bed was still made up in the same sheets and bedding that Mom had picked months before I’d gone away. Her cosmetics were still lining the vanity table that Dad had created in his workshop, craftsmanship that could only happen by hand. A mirror she’d found and had re-done hung on the wall behind it. My reflection stared back at me, a sad mimicry of the woman she’d been.

Dad’s table still had his reading glasses, the pair he kept solely for reading before bed and the remote, the lamp tilted so he’d have the perfect lighting even if it would annoy Mom’s need for perfection. I wondered what book he read last, if he had it tucked in the drawer, but Connie’s voice cut through my reverie.

“See these?” She was staring at a set of photographs that my parents had framed and hung on their wall. They were black and white, and I knew them very well - I’d taken them. I nodded. “When you took that job that you were muddling through the commute every day?” I started to say something, but she snorted and kept talking. “Your dad had reprints of these made and did some research, he sent out feelers and found out that you have an eye. A talent, something that we ALL knew, including your dumb ass, but instead of taking that scholarship that you were offered to do something with your artistic talent, you went and -” She sighed. “He didn’t want you to settle, Brooke, neither of them did.”

“We couldn’t afford for me to play artist, Connie,” I owed them more than to play at photography. “Besides, these were just shots I took to -”

“To set up the cheap and old camera that our high school gave you to use for yearbook,” she nodded, “I know. And yet,” she walked to my parents’ closet and pulled out a huge fucking box. “This is ALL the presents for all the birthdays and holidays you missed, including the birthday that came right after the Snap. Come on, Brooke, let’s go have a party with Bryne.”

#bucky barnes/oc #the falcon and the winter soldier #alternate universe #fluff #slow burn #eventual smut

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katobobato · 5 years ago

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To Say Goodbye

➳ pairing: lee tamin x reader ➳ genre: angst, resurrection au, zombie au, a little fluff in there too ➳ warnings: body decay, blood and gore, witchcraft, death ➳ word count: 5158 ➳ rating: pg-15 ➳ prompt: It was halloween so if there was any time to try and resurrect your dead lover with an ancient incarnation, today was that day. ➳ event: halloween at kfn

It had been coming up for half a year since the incident. Almost half a year without him.

y/n had been coping well it seemed, at least, that's what she showed on the outside. She was composed and fearless, still in mourning but life carries on, even without him. On the inside, however, she was barely holding herself together, the threads of her soul slowly fraying and unwinding.

She was heartbroken, lost in a monochrome world completely void of all colour, all alone yet surrounded by many. She had her family and friends, but that wasn't enough because she didn't have him.

When they'd started dating a couple of years prior to the incident, he was the first man to truly make her smile. They laughed together, they had fun together and most of all, they were happy. They had started out as friends long before that, back in high school actually, but only dared to push their relationship further once they reached adulthood.

To describe how deep in love they were, just before the time of his passing, would be a difficult task. Think of the deepest depths of the ocean, the gap between heaven and hell, the length of space between the Earth and the moon. Even then, it would not be enough. To say they were soulmates would almost be an understatement.

There will never be another like him, there will never be another Lee Taemin. No one, in this life or the next, would even compare to him. He was the stars in her night sky. He was the moon that pulled the tides. He was the force of gravity keeping her on the ground.

She couldn't live without him. At least, not without saying a proper goodbye.

And so, y/n found herself wandering the streets of New Orleans, the place she had grown to call home, a home she had shared with him. If you had seen her strolling through the streets you wouldn't think she was searching for anything in particular. Just a girl walking down the street, with no goal in mind.

But there was something on her mind, the reason fuelling her outing, she was going to find a witch that could contact the dead.

y/n was never one to really believe in the witchcraft and voodoo that was said to have found it's home in New Orleans but after moving here for herself, she could feel it. The way something magical would flow down the streets, in the air between the buildings. It was everywhere, like a presence you couldn't see. At times, it felt like a warm home, the smell of fresh flowers on a sunny day. At others it felt more like an ominous presence, a pair of eyes watching your every move from where they were lurking in the darkness.

The so-called magic of New Orleans, if it truly was real, had her wondering if it was good or rather the work of demons. Before losing her lover to the claws of death, she would have heeded the warnings she had seen on tv and read in books. Now, however, so distraught with grief, she no longer cared.

By the time she stopped walking, her feet had brought her to a little shop hidden in the corner of a crooked backstreet. It seemed as though a wandering soul would miss it, never even noticing it was there, but y/n had felt a pull to it from the moment she stepped foot outside of her apartment. A shop that picked the customers perhaps, rather than the customers choosing the shop.

The windows were tinted, making it difficult to see the dark interior beyond. A sign outside displayed the name 'Lucifer's Wing - Magic Supplies' in a fancy, golden text. It looked old, from the decaying wooden window frames to the rusted door knob.

Although y/n hadn't gotten her hopes up, she reached out for that rusty door handle and sucked in a deep breath before turning it and heading inside.

Her nose involuntarily scrunched up at the unusual smell that flooded into it. It wasn't a particularly bad smell, nor was it particularly pleasant. It was simply strong, a very strong fragrance of which she had never quite smelt before.

Not only was the smell weird, but so was the rest of the shop. Shelves filled with old books, jars full of all kinds of abnormalities, not to mention all the unusual objects that were littered about on pretty much every kind of surface. An ugly, red and green rug, that was more brown and faded from old age, sat on the floor in front of the counter.

"Just grind up the newt tail and mix it with the raven beak. You should see improvements by tomorrow."

Two normal-looking New Orleanians were at that counter, their shoes further dirtying the dusty rug beneath them. They didn't even glance at y/n as they left the shop, taking their small package out with them as they discussed things about their unusual instructions from the shopkeeper.

When y/n finally got a good look at the woman behind the counter, she wasn't particularly surprised by her appearance at all. Not when the shop itself looked so, well, peculiar. Her hair was long and crimped, frizzing out a little bit too much. Her makeup was heavy, layer upon layer of eyeliner paired with dark eyeshadow and matte lips. She looked, well, if y/n didn't know any better, she'd say she looked like a witch.

"Now, what can I do for you?" Her voice was hoarse as she tilted her head, examining y/n with a hazy gaze.

"A grimoire perhaps? Or maybe a simple hex bag?"

y/n stepped forwards, approaching the woman to ask of her what it was she had come for, "Can you speak to the dead?"

The woman hummed and placed a slender finger to her chin, "Who could the young girl miss so dearly? Her mother? Her father? A friend taken too soon? Or perhaps... a lost lover?"

y/n nodded, her words now suddenly stuck in her throat.

"How did they die?" The woman inquired, leaning forward with a sudden peak of interest.

With an almost shaky breath, y/n replied, "He was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"I'm going to need more to go on than that, pretty."

It hurt to think of it. It hurt to speak of it. It hurt to remember it.

"H- He went out one day and never came home. It was a robbery gone wrong. He tried to stop them and they shot him. They shot him to rob a fucking cash register."

Her emotion shot out like a whirlwind. You could hear the pain in her voice. How distraught she was to lose someone she loved for such a petty, pointless reason. Even she was surprised by her own words, she had sworn in front of a stranger. How rude. How unlike her.

"Please," Her voice was faint again, realising that she had lost her composure for but a moment, "I just want to say goodbye."

The shopkeeper smiled, although it was not a warming smile. Everything about it was cold, sinister even. As if she were amused by the tragedy that befell such a young couple.

"I can do you one better than that."

y/n watched as the woman turned around, rummaging through the shelves behind her as she searched for something. Something that, hopefully, was going to grant y/n that goodbye she wished for so dearly.

When she returned to the girl, the shopkeeper had an old parchment in hand. It looked ancient, so fragile that it would crumble away the moment she set it down. And yet, somehow, it remained intact.

"Take this. Speak the incantation over his grave at the witching hour on all hallows eve, when the veil between life and death is at it's thinnest. It will grant you what you wish for, maybe even more than that."

y/n took the paper, skimming her eyes over a language she only recognised as Latin before her eyes flickered back to the shopkeeper, "How much is it?"

"Free of charge, well, to me. You will pay your price when it is due, I only hope you will be prepared to pay it." The woman warned although y/n didn't take it as a serious threat.

"I'll pay whatever price, I just want to see him again. I just want to say goodbye." She held the parchment with great care and smiled, "Thank you."

With that, she was leaving the shop just as quickly as she had arrived. Taking a long, thoughtful stroll back to her apartment, their apartment.

Did she honestly think this incantation would work? No. Was she praying that she would be wrong? Yes.

It wouldn't work, there was no way it would, but she needed it to. Just a chance to say goodbye, that was all she wanted.

If only she knew what was to come.

y/n waited somewhat impatiently over the next few days but soon, all hallows eve was upon her. She had put a bowl of sweets outside, allowing any trick-or-treaters to help themselves as she would not be at home.

She knew she was going too early, she had to wait for the witching hour, after all. But she wanted to be with him. Just to sit with him for a while as she read the incantation over and over in her head to make sure that she would get it right when the time came.

Before long, the witching hour had arrived.

y/n stood up and placed a gentle hand on the tombstone. Her fingers ran over the engraving, 'Lee Taemin - Beloved Son and Cherished Friend'.

"It's now or never." y/n spoke to him, or perhaps herself, and took a couple of steps back.

With shaky hands, she held the parchment up in front of her and cleared her throat only to mutter under her breath, "Here goes."

"Hic en spiritum sed non incorpore evokare lemures de mortuis decretum espugnare de angelus balberith en inferno inremeablis."

Once she read the incantation, the wind seemed to blow, chilling her skin. She waited but nothing happened.

So, she read the incantation again and again as she prayed to see him one last time. All she wanted was to hear his voice, better yet to see his spirit before her. Just so that she could see him, hear him, one last time. Just to say goodbye.

But to no prevail.

"I knew it was fake. I was a fool to wish otherwise." y/n sighed, eyes already glassing over with tears.

In her hand, the parchment was crumpled to nothing, scattered pieces blowing off in the wind. It didn't work, it was never going to work. What was she thinking?

She fell to her knees, fingers digging into the soil that occupied the space over his grave, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I wasn't there. I'm sorry we didn't get a chance to say goodbye. I love you, I love you so much."

As her tears dripped down, wetting the Earth with her sorrow, she finally said goodbye. She would always love him, always.

It was with a heavy heart that she headed home, leaving behind the dream of seeing her lover again. She fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow, tears staining the soft fabric beneath her. Exhaustion had taken its toll on her. Exhaustion from hoping, believing too much in the unknown. Exhaustion from grief and being alone.

A few hours passed, night relieved by the early morning.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

y/n sat up, stretching her tired limbs as another knock sounded at the door. Leaving the warmth of her bed and submitting herself to the cold, she began to head for the door.

"Don't those kids know that the time for trick-or-treating is over?" She sighed, reaching out to open the door and tell them to go home.

When the door opened, her entire world stopped spinning. Or, perhaps, it began to spin so fast that she had grown dizzy and begun to see things that were not truly there.

Dark brown eyes. That fluffy, dirty blonde hair she loved to run her fingers through. Eyebrow slits he thought looked edgy, but she just found cute. Every single inch of his face was so familiar, so new, something she felt she hadn't seen in years but could have also been something had seen just yesterday.

"y/n... I- I didn't know where else to go."

The moment he spoke, confirming that he was truly there, she threw her arms around him. Tears rolled down her cheeks, tears much different than the ones that came before. It wasn't what she had expected, to be reunited with her lover like this, but he was alive. He was with her again and that was all that mattered.

When y/n finally released him, she stepped back to look at him once again.

Dirt. Lots of dirt, he was covered in it. It was matted between his hair, smudged across his cheek, wedged under his fingernails. Had he climbed out of his own grave? But his body wasn't broken, wasn't decomposed. It was as if he were as good as new.

"Let's get you in a bath." She smiled, gently taking his hand in her own as she led him inside.

Once the bath was run, steam warming the previously frosty room, she left him to it whilst she prepared some clothes of his that she just hadn't had the strength to throw away before.

He sat there, absentmindedly scrubbing the dirt off of him, thinking about so many things.

I'm dead. I died. Didn't I? So why am I here now? Why am I alive again? Am I really alive again?

He had so many questions but ultimately, he was just glad to be back home. Back with her. Back with y/n.

"So, what do you remember?" She asked, rubbing his hair loosely with a towel.

"I..." Taemin sighed, "I remember dying. I died and then there was nothing, plunged into eternal darkness. Until I woke up in- in front of my grave."

y/n looked at him softly, putting the towel down to cup her hand around his face, "I didn't know what to do without you. I didn't know how to go on. I didn't even get a chance to say goodbye. That was all I wanted. This... to have you back is more than I could have ever hoped for."

She was crying again before she realised it. A steady stream of salty tears wetting her cheeks once again.

Although hesitantly, he reached up to touch her, gentle fingers ghosting over her face. He wiped her tears away and took her hand in his, bringing it up to his lips for a tender kiss.

"How- How did you do this? How did you bring me back?"

He was so confused. He shouldn't be here, not that he didn't want to be. He wanted nothing more than to be by her side, to hold her in his arms, to kiss her softly and tell her everything was alright. But he didn't understand. He needed to understand.

"I found a shopkeeper... I think she was a witch. She gave me an old incantation and told me to read it over your grave at the witching hour on all hallows eve." y/n explained, her hand returning to his cheek, thumb stroking over it gently.

"It's Halloween? How long have I been gone for?"

She sighed and leaned forwards, resting her head against his shoulder, "Six months."

Instinctively, his hand went to her head, stroking it affectionately.

"I'm sorry," There was a pause as he leaned his head against her own, just wanting to be near her, "Sorry for leaving you."

y/n lifted her head, shaking it and looked at him with a smile, "Don't be. You're back now, that's what matters. It worked, the incantation actually worked."

The way his mouth curved so affectionately as he rubbed his head against her own slightly, much like a cat would to its owner, was so full of love. He may not have remembered anything of the afterlife, or perhaps there wasn't one to remember, but he felt as though he hadn't seen her for an eternity. He just wanted to treasure her, to love her, to hold her.

She reached for his hand, interlacing her fingers with his own.

"I love you," She said, "I love you so much."

He squeezed her hand as if to say; I'm here, I'm not leaving you again. With his other, he wiped the tears from her eyes, although soon the thumb that was drying her eyes was replaced by something else.

Each eye. He kissed under each eye, tasting the salty tears she had shed for him. He never wanted her to cry because of him again, he never wanted to leave her again.

Pulling her close to his chest, he nuzzled his head into the crook of her neck. It really was real, he really was back with her.

A part of her feared that he would be gone come sunrise. This was too good to be true. Was he really back for good? Was his soul truly intact? For now, she didn't care. She just needed him. She needed him almost as much as he needed her.

"I love you." She said again, pulling away to press a soft kiss to his lips.

"I love you too." His words were pure, romantic, gentle even. He was just glad to be back with her, back by her side.

They were soulmates, or maybe something more. Two souls, two hearts, two bodies, completely intertwined.

By the time morning came, he was still by her side. She smiled, hand smoothing over his chest as she looked up at him. His stomach raised and then, it fell. He was breathing, he was alive, he was with her once again. Not a spirit, not a monster, not a figment of her imagination, but flesh and blood.

He looked so peaceful, so angelic as he slept beside her. The sun crept in through the blinds, giving his features an almost golden glow. Maybe he was just that, an angel brought back to Earth in order to reunite with his lover once again. Maybe, if there was a God, they had sent him back to her.

Taemin's eyes soon fluttered open, his eyes rolling over the curves of her body that hid beneath the covers. He smiled and began to delicately run his fingers up and down her bare shoulder.

"Morning." His voice was groggy, full of sleep and love.

A warm smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, "I've missed this."

They spent all morning in bed, lying by each other's sides. Pillow talk and tangled legs.

By lunch, however, rumbling stomachs finally pulled them from their bed.

"Pancakes?" Taemin opened the fridge to collect the eggs and milk.

y/n was already looking in the cupboard, pulling out a bowl before searching the drawers for a whisk, "Already one step ahead."

Cooking was always an adventure when it came to the two of them, especially when it could easily get messy. Flour covered every surface, including their own hands and faces. They giggled, laughing together as they finally began flipping the pancakes.

Eating lunch was as fun as making it. Giggles and whispers of love as they smiled oh-so warmly at each other across the table.

By the time it began to grow dark outside, they were lying on the sofa watching a movie. It was one of their favourites, one they'd watched so many times together. y/n thought she'd never get to watch it with him again but here she was, lying in his arms, completely content as they quietly watched the movie.

Neither of them was truly paying attention to the film. Both of them were far too focused on each other. The way it felt to be so close, feeling the warmth of each other's body heat seep through the clothes that separated them. He loved this, the feeling of holding her in his arms again. She too was the happiest she'd ever been. She thought she'd lost him forever but they had been granted another chance. A miracle perhaps.

Or maybe... something a little more sinister.

A couple more days had passed and everything seemed well. They had been on a date in the park, his first time outside since coming back. The two of them had talked about how they would tell others that he was alive. How they'd explain it to everyone. He wanted to see his parents so dearly. Both knew that this might not be the best idea, however. They would freak out, they wouldn't understand. He had died, they all knew that. They, although distraught, had made peace with it. If he was to see them, he needed an explanation that didn't sound ridiculous or simply scare them away.

Their date had gone well. They had had fun together, walking around, taking in the fresh air. It was a good day. It was only when they returned home, later in the day, that Taemin began to feel that something was wrong.

"You okay?" y/n asked, noticing the way his eyes seemed somewhat sunken.

With a smile, he nodded, "Yeah, just tired."

It was a lie. A lie he almost believed himself. A lie he so desperately needed to believe was true because he didn't want something to be wrong. Instead of worrying about it, or worrying her about it, he hid it. He ignored it.

They bathed together that night. Both soaking in the bath until they went pruney. y/n rested her head against his chest, smiling as he softly ran the tips of his fingers along her arms.

"I've missed this. I've missed you." She sighed, taking his hand in her own.

He hummed against her hair, pressing a loving kiss against her head, "I missed you too."

He truly did miss her, even if he had no perception of how much time it had been since he last saw her before he died. Perhaps time simply wasn't a thing after death and that was why it had felt like so long but also only hours at the same time. Six months. She was without him for six months, and he was without her. For her, it was agonising. For him, well, he only noticed how much he missed her once he came back.

He held her close that night, smiling as she slept quietly in his arms, for he was beginning to feel as though he might lose her again. He knew she couldn't bear the thought of it happening all over again, watching helplessly as he was taken from her again but, as the sun set far below their feet, the cloudy night sky now overhead, he began to feel as though it was going to happen again. It was going to happen again and much sooner than they had wished for.

He kept that feeling, that knowing, from her for days. Everything was normal, even as his eyes began to look more sunken than usual. I'm just tired, he would tell her. She, like a fool, believed him.

It was his idea to try out a new recipe, a recipe his mother used to make for him. They had always liked to cook together, always treasured that time with each other. They were having fun, reading through the recipe on her phone. He stood behind her, head on her shoulder, hands holding hers as they mixed the ingredients in the wok.

Stir-fried Korean beef, a recipe from his home. He already knew how to make it but pretended not to so that he could learn again, with her. A meal to remember him by, a meal to enjoy. He didn't want to leave a sour taste in her mouth. He wanted to leave behind a pleasant taste, a lingering goodness that she could enjoy. If she liked the meal, that was.

"It's so good!" She grinned from ear to ear, devouring the delicious food they had created together.

He felt his lips curl upwards slightly, smiling so gently. It was a sad smile.

"You'll have to try out new things when I'm no longer around." It was a mumble, but she still heard it.

y/n dropped her food and tilted her head, confused, "What do you mean? You've only just come back, you're not going anywhere."

He avoided her eyes, watching them search his face as if trying to decipher what he was staying, and moulded his face into a reassuring smile, "So, after dinner, I was thinking we could go for a walk?"

She knew he was avoiding the question but didn't press on the matter. A part of her didn't want to know. She didn't want to know what he meant by that, what he was trying to say. Although, she couldn't stop the feeling of unease that had settled into the very core of her bones, shaking through her like waves of nausea.

A few more days passed and he left her during the night, droopy body heading for the bathroom. He turned the tap on, hoping the steady stream of water would ground him, and looked into the mirror. His face was pale, almost deathly so. Any rose he had in his cheeks seemed to have been painted over. His eyes were sunken, dark circles surrounding them. Dry skin, chapped lips, no colour. He looked like a walking corpse, or perhaps simply someone who was rather unwell.

y/n had noticed it. She hadn't said anything out of fear. If she acknowledged it, asked about it, she feared it would truly become real. Something was wrong, very wrong. Taemin knew it, y/n knew it. She was scared to ask, he was scared to tell her. He didn't want to see her in pain again, he couldn't watch it happen again.

Fingertips ran along his protruding cheekbone until it reached that dark skin under his eye. His nail looked black around the edges and, with a sleepy curiosity, he pulled at it with his other hand. It was such a light, delicate movement. And yet, the nail slipped so easily from his body, coming off with a trail of goo. A mix of blood and God knows what else.

He closed his eyes, focusing once again on the running water. It was calming, peaceful. The darkness that surrounded him, the lack of anything. It was pleasant, it was familiar. It was death.

Before he had realised it, he had already adapted to the life after death. It wasn't the same as life on Earth, it was different, empty. It wasn't, however, in any way bad. He couldn't remember much but he knew he felt at peace. He had made his peace with it, she had not. The living didn't know how to let go but the dead... the dead had already moved on.

She called him back. She forced him back. He wanted to see her, he was so glad that they had just a little more time together but that time was quickly running out. He only released it then, as he opened his eyes and looked down at his nail-less finger, tugging ever so gently on the limb until it broke free from his body and fell down into the sink. The stream of water fell down onto it, claiming it as death had already claimed him.

There was no pain and very little blood. He was already dead, he was never truly alive again. His time had passed and he had made peace with that. She hadn't, y/n hadn't.

"W-What's-"

She was in the doorway not long after feeling the chilling cold beside her in bed. She almost asked, she almost confirmed it. But, when she saw her lover, his body slowing starting to break down, it was too late. It was real.

"I can't stay much longer." Taemin sighed, finally understanding what was happening to him, to them.

He wasn't sad. He had had time to see her again, to say goodbye. That was what she wanted, wasn't it? A chance to say goodbye.

The witch had never said the incantation was permanent, nor had she ever said it would bring him back to life. He wasn't here to stay, he was here to help her move on. Truly a dead man walking.

y/n felt like she was suffocating, it was as if the whole world was crumbling down around her. It was raining, distorting the painting before her. He was alive, he was with her again. The painting had lied and now, those lies were washing away.

"Don't cry." He stepped forwards, wiping away the tears she hadn't even realised had started to fall.

Her world was crumbling. Her life, his life, fading away.

"It's okay, y/n. It's okay. I'm here, I'll always be here."

She couldn't listen, she didn't want to listen. She didn't want to hear this, to hear his goodbye. She wasn't ready... she'd only just gotten him back.

"I- I- I can't-" Her voice was strangled, hands balling into his shirt, "I can't lose you again." She held on tight, too afraid to let go, "I- I'll go with you, I'll die with you-"

He sighed and pulled her to his chest, feeling her warmth for one last time as he cradled her head in his hands, "You can't. You have to live on."

She cried harder, holding onto him even tighter than before.

"You don't need to worry. You must live in the present and remember me when I'm gone. Until the day comes when I must leave you again, treasure these last few days we have together but, when it's over, I need you to move on. Live a wonderful life, live a happy life. For me, for your friends, for your family. Fall in love again, have children and grandchildren. Teach them how to cook, make pancakes with them. Just... be happy."

He wasn't going to leave her that day. He might not even leave her the next, but the day was coming. The day he would have to leave again, to go back.

"I love you." He whispered into her hair, a memory she would treasure.

He loved her and she loved him. They always would, but time moves on, people move on, and she would too.

Tears streaked down her face, a steady stream mimicking the running tap, "I love you too... So much."

#halloweenatkfn #kpopficsnetwork #bangtanidx #btswriterscollective #lee taemin #taemin angst #taemin x reader #taemin x you

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veinsandknuckles · 4 years ago

Text

Long hard road, pt 2

So, this is a new part 2, making what used to be part 2 part 3. Makes total sense, right?

Vimes/f!Reader Slow burn AU where Vimes isn’t married. Will definitely become hard R down the line. Content warnings: none Read part 1 here, part 3 here One sunny day about two weeks after Stone’s arrival, you found him lurking in a shady corner of the courtyard, leaning against a crate with an amused expression on his face. Today you were shirking so you followed his gaze to see what he was seeing.

It was Conrad and one of the local boys, around thirteen or so, engaged in a mock battle with a stick each for a sword. They weren’t playing, either. Conrad stopped every other minute to give minute advice with an air of great authority. Stone nodded to you when you joined him. “He’s always fancied himself a bit of a strongman, I think,” you said by way of a greeting. Conrad did have endless stories about his adventures, and it was fun to keep track of the details he got wrong with each retelling. “He’s got the posture down, I’ll give him that.” It really was the kind of form you’d see in an instructional engraving; shoulders drawn back, chin in the air and his free hand behind his back. The boy caught him a blow on the outside of the thigh and Conrad loudly discounted it as unsportsmanlike. It was hard to tell if the kid was actually holding on to his every word, or just playing along for the excuse to beat a grown man and get away with it.

“Could you do better?”

Stone looked over at you with a suspicious frown. Then he shook his head. “You can’t bait me that easily.”

You nodded to the sword at his side. He never left the inn without it, and as plain as it was, it couldn’t be because he worried about it going missing. “So, what, you just carry that thing to impress the ladies?”

“Good grief.” But he must be in a good mood because then he smiled with a faraway look in his eye. “You know, I did try that for a time in my youth. When things grew desperate.”

“Did it work?”

“Nope.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure where that idea came from in the first place.” Conrad had backed the kid up against a wall with the point of the stick at his chest and looked a little too pleased about his victory. “In my experience, any excited talk between women about a big sword and the like is usually intended as a humorous metaphor.”

“You give men too much credit if you think we can tell the difference.” Stone still smiled, but you knew his words were a little too true for comfort. It was interesting that he could join in with this kind of talk so easily as long as it remained impersonal.

When Conrad turned his back to return to his starting position, the kid whacked him with his full strength across the leg. Conrad howled and nearly lost his balance. You couldn’t help laughing and the two knights in training finally discovered their audience. The boy bolted, Conrad scowled and limped off towards the kitchen, throwing the stick to the ground as he went.

“Show’s over,” said Stone and stood up straight. “Suppose I’d better get my own exercise in while there’s some daylight left.”

“Want some company?”

He sighed with an expression that was half amused, half irritated. “Do I have a choice?”

Of course he did, but if you said so he’d feel obligated to turn you down. He had to be able to tell himself he was being befriended against his will. After all, if he really wanted to avoid you, you knew he was more than capable of being impolite enough to say so. “What do you think?”

“Fine. A short walk, then.” Stone gestured for you to choose a direction and you headed out through the gates with him beside you, falling quickly into his leisurely pace.

The thaw had gotten an early start this year and everyone was fooled by it into hoping it would last, despite years of experience to the contrary. Every winter it was the same way - half a week of mild, sunny weather and not even the born locals could help thinking that this time it might be different, this time spring might arrive a month before it was due. Perhaps it was just human nature to talk big about expecting the worst and getting suckered despite of it.

Stone seemed a wonderful exception to this rule. There didn’t seem to be a silence thick enough to tempt him into speaking of the weather. He walked beside you, occupied with his own thoughts, completely at his ease.

“How long do you think you’ll be staying with us, mr Stone?”

He snorted. “Not a moment longer than I have to.”

The road you followed clung to the side of the mountain and bordered on the other side to dense pine forest growing from almost vertical ground. The little buildings of the inn huddled together on one of the wider plateaus and marked the edge of real vegetation before the path continued up towards the pass. You had just reached a bend in the road, a perfect vantage point to take in the stunning view of the mountain range to the side and the valleys below. On such a clear day, you could see the wide river even from here, snaking through the landscape like a silver inlay.

“How is it possible to tire of all this?”

Stone raised his eyebrows and regarded it dispassionately. “It’s just nature.”

You laughed. “I guess I can’t argue with that.”

“Since when are you so in love with the place? Thought you were bored to tears.”

“I’m not,” you conceded and tore yourself away from the view. “Just making the best of it.”

Stone took the lead now and followed the next trail leading in between the trees.

“Why not leave?”

“And go where? To do what?”

“I don’t know,” Stone shrugged. “You must want more than this, surely. You could settle down, start a family...” His ears caught up with his mouth and you saw him screw his eyes shut and shake his head.

Because of course the height of every woman’s ambition is a husband and children. You laughed and elbowed him in the side. “Mr Stone, are you offering to take me away from all of this?”

“Hah!” For once, he looked more amused than uncomfortable with the suggestion. “That’s me, walking model of fairy tale prince.”

“I’d say you’re more like the dangerous, good-for-nothing rogues that my mother should have warned me about. I’m sure you’ve left a few broken hearts in your wake.”

Stone snorted. “Right. You’ve really got me pegged.”

You bit your lip and kept watching him, but he was resolutely focused on the trail ahead. It didn’t seem like false modesty; he really did seem completely ignorant of his own charms. How could he not be, if he mistook every kind of flirtation for a joke?

Perhaps you weren’t his type. It happened. Not every man was ready to pounce on every opportunity that presented itself. Perhaps he didn’t want to pounce on anything in the first place.

But if that were the case, surely he would say so, instead of sarcastically playing along or pretending to misunderstand you. Whatever other obstacles may present themselves, the first and largest was that he wouldn’t believe you.

“Oh well,” you said. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.”

“No, I suppose I can’t,” he said, as if wishing he could. “But I can judge you for having poor taste.”

That was exactly the kind of comment you could hardly interpret as anything other than encouragement for you to continue.

“Are you asking to be complimented?”

Stone half turned towards you with a look of startled dread. “Absolutely not.”

Exasperated, you rolled your eyes and decided to drop it for the time being. “Fine. You pick a subject, then.”

For a moment, it seemed as if Stone couldn’t pull himself back together. The silence was thick and uncomfortable and you could have sworn you saw him, out of the corner of your eye, looking at you with some earnestness.

“Do you... er. Have you lived here long?”

“A few years.” The poor man really was ready to scrape the bottom of the barrel, but you felt like you owed him a little help in steering back into safer waters. “You’re from Ankh-Morpork, aren’t you?”

The little path forked up ahead and Stone chose the path that looped around to the other side of the inn. He really had explored his surroundings. “I suppose that’s not much of a secret.”

“The accent is pretty strong.”

“Huh.” He sniffed. “Your Morporkian is, er... it’s very good.”

“Thank you.”

“Must be from reading all those books.” He’d seen you read once, but apparently that was enough to set you down as a confirmed book worm.

For a while, you walked together in silence and slowly his ruffled feathers seemed to settle down. It was beautiful out here, every shadow in the snow a rich blue, every dapple of sunshine glowing peach and gold as the afternoon wore on. Your footfalls made a pleasant, hypnotising creaking sound with each step you took.

Before you could think it through, you asked a question that had been weighing on you for some time. “Is it safe for you to be here?”

There was a pause. “...for me or for you?”

Oh gods. “Either, I suppose.”

Stone thought this through. He looked very weary.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I suppose we’ll find out.”

You tried to smile. “I guess I wasn’t too far off with the ‘dangerous rogue’ thing, then.”

“Well, you knew that already.”

“Yeah... next time you should have a backstory and name picked out before you introduce yourself.”

“I’ll bear that in mind,” he replied drily.

Despite everything he’d said (and failed to say) and despite how incredibly intimidating he could be, it was impossible for you to view Stone as a threat. If he had tried to make himself likeable or if he’d tried harder to bullshit an excuse for being here in the first place, it would have been another thing altogether. He didn’t seem as if he wanted anyone to like him very much and that indifference was predictably irresistible.

He was just so... self-contained. He seemed perfectly content on his own and perfectly careless of his reputation. His attitude towards whatever danger he was in seemed to consist mostly of boredom, as if he was just waiting to get it over with and wasn’t all that invested in the outcome. In many ways, he was untouchable, and of course that only made you more desperate to try. It was also very difficult to believe he didn’t have to fight people off with a stick.

You should really know better. So far everything had gone his way, which meant he could afford to be a gentleman, but who knew what desperation could drive him to do? When his reality caught up with him, you might all be acceptable casualties - to him as well as to whoever, or whatever, was chasing him. Somehow, all these facts were trumped by a strong gut feeling in his favour and here you were, walking beside him feeling as safe as if you’d known him for years.

The inn was coming back into view. Stone was deep in thought, but when the climb to get back onto the road got a little steep, he scaled it ahead of you, turned and offered his hand to help pull you up.

It was big, rough and warm - you felt the heat of his skin even through your mittens - and yours seemed almost to disappear into his grip. With a slowly creeping flush you realised that your attraction to him had grown much quicker than you had intended it to. Soon, if he kept deflecting your advances, you might find yourself too shy to continue them or, if you were very careless, growing lovesick.

“Thank you,” you said as you stepped onto the road and he immediately let go. You worried that you might have sounded a little too breathless and sincere.

“Course.” Stone cleared his throat and walked briskly towards the stables. “And, er. Thank you for the company. Although,” and he shot you a glance, “it shouldn’t become a habit. Seems all people do round here is gossip.”

“Of course.” You couldn’t deny it even if you wanted to, but it was very sweet of him to care about your reputation. “We wouldn’t want anyone to think you were a loose man.”

The shadow of the house crossed your path and Stone immediately seemed more at ease when he stepped into it. You could sense that he wanted to be alone with his thoughts now and so you forced a little smile and waved him off. A curt nod, and then he slunk in among the buildings, off to do whatever mysterious things usually filled his time.

#sam vimes #sam vimes x you #sam vimes x reader #discworld fanfiction #sam vimes imagine #my fics

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ronninoir · 5 years ago

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Can I Steal You for a Second? CH8

Summary: Adrien is forced to participate in a new dating show, but becomes more excited when Ladybug says she’ll participate as her civilian self.

AKA: AU where Adrien doesn’t know Marinette, the superheroes are 22 and Gabriel is mean and ruthless but not Hawkmoth.

Read on AO3

Start from the beginning Chp 1 on AO3

Chapter 8

Getting ready for the second half of the date was a breeze. Marinette had been feeling so confident and beautiful earlier that it just carried on into the second half of the evening. She was brought food into a room where she was getting ready and had to stuff her face in between styling her hair and putting on her make-up. When Marinette thought of dates, she thought of going out to eat and chatting over a meal and possibly sharing a dessert and fighting with the boy over who was going to pay, but instead her first date with Adrien consisted of a fashion show, eating in her dressing room and sharing the boy with 8 other girls.

She was ready right as all of the other girls were and she had to admit, they all looked amazing. Marinette’s confidence began to ebb as the excitement of the fashion show died down and reality that she would have very little time to talk to Adrien set in. Getting to talk to him at all will be exciting, but she was still nervous. Alya briefed her on the low-down of group dates before she left and they usually involve fighting for time and any sort of drama that can ensue from putting so many girls in one place.

They arrived at a gorgeous hotel (not Chloe’s Father’s, thank goodness) not long after the loaded into the van. There, a meeting area in a wing of the hotel was set up for them. They would be allowed to sit and be pulled away to chat with Adrien one at a time. The main area they were sitting in was beautifully decorated and had a rose on a dish sitting on the table. The girls were told not to leave this area unless they were asked or needed to go to the bathroom, etc. They were all handed drinks, and Marinette got a glass of white wine since they wouldn’t let her drink water this early in the evening.

They waited for about 15 minutes for Adrien to walk in. Marinette sipped her wine while everyone else chatted about how the date had went and strategizing about what they were going to talk about with Adrien. Marinette wasn’t too worried. She had spent many hours just chatting with Adrien, only while he was Chat Noir. If the conversation ever came to a lull, she would be able to figure something out.

Marinette heard a gasp and looked up to see Adrien entering. He looked stunning in his tailored slacks and green button down that brought out the color of his eyes. Some of the girls giggled excitedly as he got closer and he smiled at them all.

“Hey ladies! Today was so much fun. I really enjoyed being a spectator on a runway, rather than a performer.” More giggles from the girls. “You guys did an amazing job and I was reminded of just how beautiful you all are. I can’t wait to talk with all of you tonight and dive in deeper with our relationships.” He paused and made eye contact with all of the girls before his eyes landed on Marinette. “Marinette, can I steal you for a second?”

Marinette couldn’t help the blush that spread on her face. “Of course,” She stood up and followed him from the group. She could feel their eyes on her as she walked, but honestly, she couldn’t bring herself to care much with Adrien by her side.

“How are you doing tonight?” He started, shooting Marinette a smile that made her heart flutter.

“It’s been pretty good so far. I will say I’m not a fan of eating in my dressing room, but I guess I’ll have to make do.” She gave a light laugh and Adrien joined in. It felt wonderful to hear him laugh, like a breath of fresh air after being underwater for a couple of minutes.

“Sadly, if you choose to stay you’ll have to get used to it.” Adrien had led her to a couch that was giving out the illusion of privacy. But nothing was actually private here with the cameras lurking around. Adrien had Marinette sit first, like the gentleman he was, then he sat next to her, making sure to sit what could be considered an appropriate distance. Marinette thought he was too far away. “At least you only have to do it once a week. Between modeling and this, I feel like I only eat my meals in dressing rooms.”

Marinette frowned at that. She’d heard Chat say that his home life wasn’t great. Once she had found out he was Adrien, she just assumed that he ate with Gabriel, his father just didn’t talk to him much over meals. The thought of her kitty eating meals alone all the time broke her heart. “Well then when this is all over, I’ll have to take you to a restaurant and show you how normal people eat meals,” Marinette said firmly.

Adrien’s eyes lit up. “You mean that?”

“Win or lose, I promise. Cross my heart.” She took her finger and crossed it over her heart, just to show that she was serious.

“Wow, thank you Marinette. That means so much to me.” He gave her hand a little squeeze and she intertwined her fingers with his. Their hands fit together so naturally and it sent electricity up Marinette’s arm. “I actually wanted to let you know how impressed I was with you today at the fashion show. Not only did you look amazing up there, but you handled losing very well. I don’t know if any of the other girls could have done what you did with such grace.” She blushed under his words as he continued, “Anyway, I wanted to thank you for your reaction. Awarding the winner could have gone really poorly and you helped it go really well.”

Marinette was beaming under his praise. She had channeled her inner Ladybug on the catwalk today, much preferring to be the designer watching from the sidelines than the actual model. She had been happy for Gabrielle, and in Marinette’s opinion, she wore the final dress better than she did for sure. She appreciated that Adrien noticed her even though she didn’t win, it meant that he saw her even through the crowd.

“That’s really kind of you, Adrien, but you don’t have to thank me for being nice. That’s something that everyone should do naturally.”

“If that were true, Ladybug and Chat Noir would be out of a job. There wouldn’t be anyone for Hawkmoth to akumatize.” He gave a soft chuckle before his face grew suddenly serious. “Speaking of that, I have a question for you.” Marinette nodded, and he continued, “Is there a particular reason that Chloe Bourgeois doesn’t like you?”

Marinette sighed. As much as she was expecting it, she was still hoping that this topic wouldn’t come up in her conversation with Adrien. She had decided that being honest was the best possible way to deal with this and hopefully making it go away.

“She went to school with me when I was younger. She was in my class for 7 years in a row and she became my bully. No matter what I did, she picked on me, made fun of me, and drew attention to my mistakes in front of everyone. It wasn’t until I got older that I started standing up to her. I could never figure out why, but she never apologized for it and I never confronted her for a reason. I was hoping that she would drop whatever problem she had with me when we left high school, but she just took to subtle comments on social media and casual digs when we passed each other in the street.” Adrien’s jaw was dropped and Marinette wanted to stop, but Adrien needed to know what she had said to her today. “She even brought some of that anger with her today. Right before the fashion show started, she pulled me aside, tore me down and told me that I wouldn’t ever be able to get you, as if you were some prize to be won.” Marinette scoffed and shook her head. Her Kitty was worth more than a trophy to her. When she made eye contact with Adrien, she gave him a small smile, “She is actually the reason I picked my evening gown dress. She had said that I could never pull off that dress, so I decided to prove her wrong.”

Adrien looked shocked and she wished she could say something to make this easier on him. He took her hands and looked at her so intensely, Marinette thought she would shrink, but she stood her ground. “Marinette, I am so so sorry for the way that Chloe treated you, today, in school and every day in between. She is one of my oldest friends and she has always been kind to me. I never realized that she wasn’t the kindest to the other people she interacted with.” He shook his head and he suddenly wouldn’t look at her in the eyes. “I saw the way she treated the employees at the hotel and I should have known that would translate to her classmates.”

“You never know everything about a person until you live a day in their shoes.” Marinette responded, placing her other hand on his shoulder. She yearned to touch his cheek, but she didn’t want to frighten him. “Don’t blame yourself.”

“You’re right,” He sighed, his eyes briefly meeting hers. When he looked back up at her, he had a sly smile on his lips that reminded her of something Chat would wear when he was going to do something crazy. She lowered her hand to her lap as he leaned in to whisper, “Well then I guess I have Chloe to thank for that jaw-dropping dress.”

Marinette’s blush returned once again and she ducked her head, trying to hide the color. His hand gently touched her chin and lifted her head towards him. She automatically leaned closer to him, craving more of his kisses, though she knew that he had to be the one to initiate it. When their lips did touch, she had to stop herself from sighing. She had been dreaming about doing this again since Sunday night. His lips were soft and gentle, not asking too much of her. When they broke apart, she smiled and rested her forehead on his.

“I really like you, Adrien,” She blurted out. The heat returned to her cheeks as his smile grew at her statement.

“I really like you too, Marinette. Thank you for everything today.” He leaned back and stood up, offering her a hand to stand with him. She took it gratefully and he shifted their hands to where his arm was wrapped around hers while still having his fingers entwined in hers. They started walking back to where the other girls were gathered.

“Thank you, Adrien, for everything. We should do it again sometime,” She shot him a bright smile and he laughed.

“We really should.”

----------------------------------------------------

The rest of the night was anticlimactic compared to her kiss with Adrien. She found out through the grapevine that he had ended up kissing Gabrielle, Camille, Hanna, and Juliette before the end of the night. At least she got to be the first one, but the thought of Adrien kissing 4 other girls tonight made her shiver. She had to keep reminding herself that this was exactly what she had signed up for, but it still sucked.

The only major drama that had come up involved Gabrielle. Pauline was upset at how much time Gabrielle got to spend with Adrien even though she had some time already after she won the fashion show earlier in the date. Gabrielle argued that she had barely spent any time with him after the show and that she needed to “mind her own business instead of sticking her nose into other’s relationship with Adrien.” Marinette had caught the end of the fight on her way back from the bathroom and was glad she had missed the majority of the shouting. Most of the other girls had scattered when the yelling started in order to avoid being dragged into this. Marinette found Hanna and Juliette hiding behind a wall right next to where the two girls were staring daggers at each other.

“I heard the yelling, are they almost done yet? Adrien should be giving away the group date rose soon and we can go home and sleeeeeep,” Marinette asked pitifully as she rested her head on Hanna’s shoulder. This elicited a giggle from both girls and Marinette smiled knowing that she had dissolved some of the tension the others had created.

“They should be.” Juliette replied while peeking around the corner. “I heard that the producers wanted to keep these emotions as high as possible for when Adrien gave out the group date rose to make it seem more heated on film.” Sure enough, as soon as Juliette had said that, a group of producers came around shuffling the girls into the main room with Gabrielle and Pauline, who were still very clearly mad, although a silence surrounded them.

Almost as soon as the other girls were seated on the couches, Adrien walked into the room. Marinette noticed that almost every single girl sat up straighter and their smiles became brighter when he walked in. Some of the smiles seemed more forced and fake than others, but Marinette couldn’t help but be bothered by how “showy” this whole part of the date felt.

Adrien inserted himself on the couch in between Valentine and Alice and addressed the girls as a group, “Thank you so much for tonight. It was so refreshing to be able to just talk to all of you with minimal distractions.” Marinette took that to mean that he had heard of the fight, but had decided not to do anything about it just yet. She was worried he would let this slide and would send the message that fighting and drama was okay within the house. That would only bring more problems. “The group date rose tonight is going to someone who was brutally honest with me and wasn’t afraid to hold anything back, even if it could stir up problems.” Adrien leaned across the table and grabbed the rose, and Marinette took a quick peek at his toned muscles as he stretched. Running around rooftops had done him good in the muscle department, just as Marinette was extra toned from her constant rooftop runs. Adrien sat back down with the rose and turned towards Marinette. “That being said, Marinette, will you accept this rose?”

Marinette blushed, once again, she just couldn’t catch a break with him tonight, as she gave a nod. He reached over and gave her a hug before sitting back down on the couch. He looked up at one of the producers, a question unspoken in his eyes.

The producer nodded and stepped forward. “Thank you, ladies, that was a wonderful take. Go ahead and take a quick moment to interview with our crew, 3 girls per camera, and then we’ll send you guys back to the mansion.”

Marinette stood up with the other girls and waited her turn to give Adrien a hug goodbye. He whispered a quick, “Thank you for your honesty, Marinette. It means so much to me,” before giving her a quick squeeze and moving onto the next girl. She snagged a camera crew, hoping to get the interview over with quickly so she could sleep.

“How did you feel going into the cocktail party tonight? Be sure to restate the question and pretend it’s the beginning of the night.”

“Coming into the cocktail party tonight, I am just excited to see Adrien again. I felt so confident and beautiful doing the fashion show that I feel like I’m coming in on such a high. I really hope that this amazing day continues with a good conversation with Adrien.”

“Great response. What did you think of Chloe Bourgeois coming up in your conversation with Adrien this evening?”

“I knew Adrien was going to ask about Chloe. From the moment we entered Gabriel and saw her, I knew I would have to tell Adrien about my relationship with her. It’s an important part of my history that I want him to know, especially since Chloe is a friend of his.”

“What do you think about being Adrien’s first kiss?”

Marinette broke her composure and blanched. How in the world did they know about the fact that she, as Ladybug, was Adrien’s first kiss? She decided to play dumb rather than incriminate herself further. “What do you mean?”

“You were Adrien’s first kiss on the show, and as far as the public knows, his first kiss ever. How does that make you feel? How was he?”

She sighed and let her whole body relax. These people didn’t know that she was Ladybug or know of the pair’s other kisses. She gave a gentle smile, which she hoped would come off as shy rather then conceited and began to lie, “I honestly didn’t know but I’m honored that he chose me to be the first.” That was true, she just felt that a couple of days ago. “And considering he hasn’t done much kissing before tonight, he was surprisingly wonderful at it.”

“How did finding out that he kissed 4 other girls tonight as well make you feel?”

“Finding out that Adrien had kissed 4 other girls tonight made my skin crawl. I just—” She paused, wondering how real she wanted to be with the camera. She decided to just be honest and hope that if it isn’t interesting enough they won’t put it in the show. “I hate that he’s dating the other girls as well. I know it’s part of the process, but I like Adrien enough to want to keep him for myself.”

One of the producers cleared his throat and whispered to the man behind the camera. “Sorry, Marinette, we are going to need you to redo that. Instead of saying the word “process” say “journey,” okay?” Marinette gave them a blank look to which they responded, “It’s a rule. We don’t call the show a ‘process’ because that makes it sound cynical. We call it a ‘journey’ so it sounds more optimistic.”

At that, she nodded obediently. “Can you remind me of what I said?”

“Yeah, it started with ‘I hate that he’s dating the other girls as well. I know it’s part of the journey, but I don’t want to share Adrien.’”

Marinette nodded and made the change they had asked of her. It was weird that she had to edit her own words, but she could try to remember to not say “process” and instead say “journey.” That way, she shouldn’t have to do that again.

----------------------------------------------------

Adrien collapsed onto his bed with an exasperated sigh.

“Who knew dating 9 girls at once could be so exhausting?” Adrien asked his pillow. Sadly, the only response he received was from Plagg.

“Why didn’t you address the fight the girls had?” Plagg asked, flying close to Adrien’s head. He shifted on the bed so he could see his kwami better.

“Why do you care?”

“Because not dealing with conflict quickly after it happens can cause more problems later on.” Plagg replied matter-of-factly.

“And you know this because....?”

“Listen here, kid. I’ve been around for thousands of years. I’ve seen a lot and I’ve dealt with a lot of petty problems. Why do you think that the 100 Years War got started? Over a small fight that was left to stew and grew into something big.”

“Wait, didn’t the English try to take over France? That doesn’t seem like a small thing.”

“That’s what the public knows of. It actually started because the French king didn’t think that the English were ruling their country correctly and he made a snide comment. It grew from there.”

“That’s not true,” Adrien countered, sitting up in his bed.

“Kid,” Plagg started, putting a paw up to stop Adrien from talking. “I know what I’m talking about. So, shut up and listen for a bit.” Adrien nodded to show his compliance. “You need to address this problem. Ask the girls why they were upset, get both sides of their stories, if you can explain what you saw/thought/heard. From there you need to calm both girls down and help them to find some sort of solution that both can accept.”

Adrien was speechless as Plagg flew away to his stash of Camembert. When he brought a piece back to the bed, Adrien didn’t even have it in him to shoo him away. He let the advice Plagg gave him swim around in his head. He knew that putting 22 girls to live with each other for a long amount of time was going to cause problems, he just didn’t know it would happen so soon. He needs to ready and next time, he can solve a fight like this quicker.

“Plagg?” The god gave a slight hum to show he was listening. “What can I do to fix the problem from tonight?”

Plagg swallowed his Camembert and then flew up to Adrien’s face. “You’re going to have to wait until the cocktail party on Saturday. Hopefully this will blow over, but if it comes up again, you have to address it.”

“Thank you, Plagg. I really appreciate that you care.” Adrien changed into his pajamas and began getting ready for bed.

“Anytime, kid. Someone’s got to be in your corner through all this.”

Soon Adrien heard Plagg’s snores and he ended up tossing and turning all night, thinking about what Plagg said and what other crazy things this show had in store for him.

----------------------------------------------------

The rest of the week was boring, and yet slightly entertaining. Because she had her date early in the week, she spent the rest of the week distracting herself before the cocktail party later on. She was required to attend the other two date card readings, which thankfully happened on the same day, just at different times. Lucie ended up with the one-on-one for this week. Everyone else would be going on a second group date, except Ines, Sophia and Lily, who were left dateless. Marinette spent some time comforting them, especially when Lila said something along the lines of, “He didn’t choose you because he doesn’t like you which means you’re going home.”

Once everyone was calm, Marinette entertained herself. Lucie was going on her date first, so most of the other girls were left in the house. Marinette was going to stay in her room and sketch in order to avoid all of the potential drama. However, Hanna found her and dragged her downstairs to the kitchen which was filled with laughing and happy-shouting. All of the girls had gathered and were receiving “cooking lessons” from Lila, who had claimed to be an amazing cook.

The kitchen was a mess and everyone was laughing at their lame attempts of whatever Lila was trying to get them to make. When Hanna walked in with Marinette, she announced, “Don’t worry guys! Marinette’s parents own a bakery! She can teach us how to make something!” The other girls applauded and made sounds of their general approval as she was pushed to the front of the group. Lila was not amused and sulked to the back of the room with her arms crossed over her chest, refusing to participate.

“Ooh! Can you teach us how to make macarons? I’ve always wanted to know how! Please?” One of the girls called out. Marinette couldn’t tell who had said it, but the other girls picked up her plea and Marinette was forced to agree.

2 hours later (the others were slow and messy learners, plus they had to clean up the kitchen from Lila’s cooking disaster) the girls were all munching on their own macarons and chatting with the others about how much fun that all was. Marinette was sitting with Ines and Marie when she had a realization. The girls were laughing about something Marie had did that ended up with her covered in flour head-to-toe. Of course, Marinette had multiple stories like that, and as she listened to their small group cackle about one she had shared, she realized that she didn’t hate these girls. If they were put in the same class at school or forced to meet in some other way besides this show, they would probably all be friends.

The thought made Marinette reevaluate how she had been spending her days. Sure, she needed to be able to escape in case an akuma came by, but how in the world could she survive her time in the mansion if she didn’t at least try to get along with the other girls?

For the rest of the week, she stayed in the main meeting area. She ended up playing Monopoly, Clue (which she was actually good at), Twister, and even swept the crowd during a game of Poker. She got her fingernails painted by Lily and her toes painted by Constance. She laughed and smiled and actually enjoyed herself. Before she knew it, Friday was here and the girls were chatting about the cocktail party and rose ceremony the next day. Lucie had walked away from her one-on-one with a rose, and Sasha got one from the second group date.

The tension in the mansion rose as the cocktail party grew closer. Marinette did laundry and cleaned both her bedroom and the bathroom she was assigned to distract herself. Finally, she settled into bed early and began writing a letter to Alya. If she could finish it before Sunday, she could deliver it to Alya’s window without her knowing.

As she was writing, Mathilde came into the room. Marinette had tried to have conversations with her, but she never seemed interested. She started to get ready for bed, but instead of taking off her make-up, she started to reapply.

“Hey, umm, Mathilde? Do you mind if I ask what you’re doing?” Marinette asked hesitantly from the bed.

“I’m obviously getting ready for bed.” Mathilde stated flatly.

“Then why are you putting more make-up on?”

Mathilde turned away from her make-up mirror and rolled her eyes at Marinette. “Well, tomorrow is a rose ceremony, and I want to make sure that I am ready for the cameras in the morning. This way, when I get woken up, I already look beautiful.” Marinette shrugged and let her be. She thought her reasoning was flawed, but decided to ignore it.

When Saturday morning came, Mathilde wasn’t the only one who had prepared themselves for an early morning. Multiple other girls had make-up on as Marinette watched them stumble out of bed. She tried to sleep late, but apparently, she was the only one in the house with that mindset. The overall noise of 21 girls moving and interacting and getting ready was too much for Marinette as she slipped out of bed and started getting ready.

The cocktail party wouldn’t start until 7 tonight, just like on the first night, but even before lunch the girls were getting ready. Marinette spent the morning in the main room like she had all week, but no one was in the mood to enjoy any sort of conversation. The only girls who were as calm as Marinette were Lucie and Sasha. Finally, Marinette couldn’t handle it. She snuck up to her room, locked the door with a note that said “Napping, will be awake by 4:30” for Mathilde, and transformed.

Marinette was very particular about not roaming Paris during the day time as Ladybug unless there was an akuma, but she had to break the rules today. She secretly hoped that Adrien as Chat Noir would show up as well, but after running around the city, taking pictures with fans, and even running into Alya and recording something for the Ladyblog, she saw no Chat. She went back to the mansion and gave Tikki a chance to recharge and unlocked the door right as 4:30 hit. She busied herself with getting ready as all of the other girls began to do the same.

When 7 o’clock came around, the girls were gathered in one of the couch areas, awaiting someone to appear and officially start the cocktail party. One of producers showed up and addressed the gathered group.

“Okay ladies, Adrien will be here in about 30 minutes. What we need from you now is kind of like a group discussion. I have some questions that I am going to have one girl ask the group, then you guys can take turns answering. If you have an answer, speak up so we can hear you and please be respectful while the others are talking.”

The group discussion was super boring. The girls talked about how their opinions on the dates were, what bothered them, how excited they are for time with Adrien tonight, etc. Marinette just wanted to get the whole thing over with.

Once the questions were finished and without warning, Adrien walked in the room. All of the girls squealed and awed and were just generally excited to see him.

“Hello, ladies.” Adrien walked in beaming, and the girls began standing as he got closer. He was smartly dressed in a fitted suit and maroon tie. He looked handsome, although Marinette knew she wouldn’t be spending much time with him since she already had a rose.

“You all look amazing tonight, I’m glad you’ve taken to the Gabriel wardrobe well.” He paused and a couple of girls giggled and played with their dresses, but most were giving their full attention to Adrien. “I don’t know about all of you, but I’ve had a pretty amazing week this week. I’m excited to see how all of our conversations go tonight, and I know not everyone here had a date, and for that I want to apologize. I can’t wait to talk to all of you tonight though, and I look forward to all of the conversations. So, cheers to tonight!” He raised a glass that had magically appeared in his hand and the girls all gave a little cheer.

Lily was the first one to swoop in as she grabbed Adrien’s arm and walked out of the room. Marinette had pretty much decided to stay out of the other girls’ way and to just let them talk. At the end, she was going to say hi, give him a hug, and let him be. But until then, she got to be bored.

Tikki was roaming the house, but kept an eye on Marinette just in case. When a producer’s phone started going off with an akuma alert, Tikki was the one to notice. She quickly found Marinette, who pretended to feel faint. Hanna and Juliette helped her to her room and told her to lay down until the rose ceremony so she didn’t faint on camera. She locked the door, and transformed for the second time that day.

Y’all this virus has us pumping some chapters out, expect chapter nine in the next couple days!

Let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list

@momor3202

@legendaryneckjudgestudent

@discoveringmiraculouswriters

@adrianarfox

@veroocasanova

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animeniacss · 5 years ago

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A Palette of Emotions - Artist!Taehyung x Teacher!Reader - Chapter 3 - Opportunities

Synopsis: Taehyung dreams of being a professional and famous artist one day, but finds that the sea of creativity can be lurking with blood hungry sharks, as well as bland, motionless starfish. Swimming through the sea of opportunities somehow washed him up onto the shore of Bright Star Preschool, as an art teacher. This wasn’t where he expected to be 4 years into his career, but anything to get his big break though, right?

Feat. BTS, TXT, ITZY, Jisoo (BlackPink), Taeyong (NCT)

Genre: Romance, Slow Burn, Love Triangle, Drama, School Setting, Working!AU,

Length: approx. 5k words

Chapter 3 - Opportunities

“…A preschool job?” Taehyung asked, looking up at his friend. Jimin had come straight over to his apartment from work, hurrying in and prying Taehyung away from a sketch that he was very invested in. Before Taehyung could even ask what Jimin was doing, he was given the piece of paper with all the information on it regarding the position.

“Yeah. My boss just gave me the information before I left. I think you should totally look into applying.” Jimin said, sitting beside his friend. “The pay is pretty good, and it’s not hard. You’re just doing art projects with a bunch of little kids.” Taehyung sighed, passing the paper back to his friend and running a hand through his hair.

“I don’t know, Jimin.” He said. “I’m not really good with kids.”

“What do you mean? You always get along great with your cousins.”

“Okay, then let me rephrase,” Taehyung said. “I’m not really good with kids who I can’t play wrestle and backflip onto the couch.” Jimin nodded, leaning back in the seat. “Besides, I’m trying to be a famous artist, not a school teacher.”

“But it’s a job until you become a famous artist,” Jimin assured. “Besides, it could be fun. You need a change in scenery.” Taehyung sighed, getting up and walking back to his desk, plopping himself in his seat. “I need a day or two to make some samples for the guy. Will you at least tell me you’ll think about it?” Taehyung, running a hand down his face, focused his eyes on Jimin. Jimin smiled at him, his eyes sparkling with the same whimsical aura that they always had, an aura that always assured Taehyung that things would smooth over in the long run. Taehyung had put a lot of his trust in Jimin since he decided to pursue art when they were in high school, waiting for the bus stop one early Monday morning as they dreaded the idea of being up so early for school. Taehyung groaned, knowing it was only a matter of time before he gave in to his best friend.

“Okay, okay, okay. I’ll think about it.” Taehyung finally said. Jimin grinned, getting up off the couch.

“Okay, awesome. I’ll let you know when the flyers are done and I’ll give you one so you can call them.” Taehyung nodded, swiveling around in his chair as he looked back at his sketches that were stopped halfway through. Jimin yawned a bit. “Do you mind if I stay here tonight? I’m too tired to drive all the way home.”

“I guess so,” Taehyung said. He heard footsteps heading towards his bedroom, and he looked over. “Why are you heading towards my room? There’s a perfectly good couch.” Jimin turned back around as he shrugged off his suit jacket, folding it over his shoulder as he loosened his tie.

“You’re going to be up all night with that light on and I’m not losing sleep because of your pencil scratching and constant grumblings-.”

“Artistic grumblings,” Taehyung said, grinning playfully. Jimin chuckled.

“…Artistic grumblings…either way, I’m not letting it keep me awake. When you’re done, come to kick me out on the couch. Unless you want to join me~.” He teased, and both of them laughed.

“I’ll probably crash right here,” Taehyung said, patting his desk. “Just like always.” Jimin smiled a bit. “Goodnight.” He said, before swiveling once again to face his desk. Jimin watched as he picked up a pencil and began to draw again. He stood for a moment, just staring, before finally heading into the bedroom. When Taehyung was alone in his living room, he leaned back in his seat, pulling out his phone and quickly being bombarded with tons of Instagram notifications. He had uploaded a picture about an hour ago, before he really got into his work, of the sketching that he planned to do all night. He opened the app up, wondering what his followers were saying about his brainstorming stage. The comments were not what he expected.

Oppa, post a picture of your face~! ^.^ I’m sure you’re looking extra handsome today.

Don’t work too hard, you don’t want to get rings under those beautiful eyes, Oppa~ <3

I’m not really a big art fan, but I just think you’re so handsome, Oppa, I’ll follow you always! uwu

There were almost 100 similar comments, only a handful of them curious about what he was creating in the picture. He continued to scroll, hoping that he would find just one of those handfuls so that he could work tonight with a smile on his face. Through the seas of appearance-based comments, he finally found one. One that had nothing to do with his appearance, but his work. @MissSunshine43 wrote:

How do you always find ways to get inspired? I’m jealous. >.<

Taehyung chuckled a bit, tapping the heart beside the message and allowing it to pop up in bright red. He had to admit, curiosity got the better of him, and he tapped onto the profile of MissSunshine43. The profile itself was not what he was expecting. The page was bright and colorful, and it looked like a school classroom. Pictures that contained children had their faces covered by cute emojis, and as he scrolled, he saw all the different things that this school did. Different themed days for holidays, different events involving parents, and different types of work students had completed. A small smile formed on his lips as he continued to scroll, more and more curious with every picture that he saw. He didn’t need to see the kid’s faces to know that he was having fun with whatever they were doing. When a new set of pictures loaded, he clicked on the one picture of a female face. She was sitting around 4 kids, on top of a big, white tarp. Her hair was in a messy ponytail, hints of colored paint showing in her locks. Her hands as well as the hands of the emoji-faced students around her were holding up hands that were coated in different colored finger paints. The teacher had spots of red paint on her cheeks, with a small smile stretched between them. Sliding to the next picture, Taehyung saw a completed picture that was decorated with colored swirls, hearts, handprints, and crudely scribbled names most likely written by the students. In the middle, it read: Thank you for another fun year! 2018-2019. The picture was nothing stunning, but it seemed to suit the class it was for. Taehyung read the caption underneath:

Finally got to crack open the paints this year! Our teacher did a good job again, yeah? OwO

Taehyung’s finger ran along his phone screen as he examined the photo for a few more minutes. He thought back to what Jimin told him about the preschool job that would soon be up for grabs. Sighing, he leaned back in his seat. He closed his eyes, his hand lazily tapping on his phone a few times, then blinked, lifting his phone back up to his view. The photo he had just been looking at, one that was around a year old, had a big red heart on the side of it. His eyes widened, and he quickly turned his phone off and slammed his phone down, leaning forward and running a hand through his hair.

“Aaaah, fuck, now I look like a stalker.” He grumbled to himself. Taehyung sat like that for a moment, running his hands through his hair multiple times. Despite the constant reminder that he was an actual idiot running through his mind, he looked back at his phone, which lit up again with the notification of an Instagram interaction covering the background he had of him and Jimin posing dramatically in suits for one of Jimin’s important business events. Simply flipping over the phone so the case was exposed, he sighed. “A preschool, hm?” he mumbled to himself.

-------------------------------

Two days later, you were sitting at your desk, eating some lunch with Hoseok. He was helping you prepare for when the students returned from lunch, as this week’s focus was on different people in a community. So far, they had learned about the jobs of police officers, firefighters, and medical staff such as doctors and nurses. Today would be focused on teachers, and next week, after introducing a few more community workers, the students would be able to dress up as their favorite, and they would have a big celebration day. You were most excited about that and had lined up a few people that you knew in each profession who were willing to come and talk to the students about their job and what it was like. Videos and stories could only do so much, which is what you had been doing, so having real people come in would be a treat that kids were looking forward to.

“I wonder what all the kids are going to choose to dress up as.” Hoseok hummed, looking at you. You glanced up, popping a piece of leftover chicken into your mouth that you had packed from yesterday’s dinner.

“I have a feeling I know what a few of them are going to be.” You said, smiling. “Which reminds me, I need to go put up that flyer on the bulletin board by the front door for the parents to see.” You got up, setting your boxed lunch down onto the table, and picking up the colorful flyer with clipart pictures of different community helpers that the students were learning about. Hoseok continued getting today’s teaching activity ready while you headed out to the bulletin board. It was already covered in work made by the kids, as well as notifications for parents on school events, local community events, and anything else that they may need to know. It was a pretty crowded board of stuff. “I should get rid of all of the old news, huh?” you hummed, pursing your lips. You scanned the cluttered board, picking off a few events that had since come to pass. You began reorganizing the board, making sure that it was visually pleasing to the average eye despite all that was being displayed was various pieces of colored paper with lots of sentences written in Black Comic Sans.

“Yoooohooo~.” You heard a voice calling and turned to see Seokjin approaching you. He was grinning as he waved a thin piece of paper in his hands. “Just the pretty lady that I wanted to see.”

“Hello, Mr. Kim.” You said, a bundle of old and crumpled papers now in your hands. “What’s that?”

“The job application for the new art teacher~.” Seokjin grinned. You felt yourself grimace slightly, but you tried to remain subtle about it. Unsure if it worked on your boss – it probably didn’t – you watched as he stepped close and showed you the colorful paper. The name Bright Star Preschool centered the page in bright pink letters and an eloquently simple font. All the information necessary was written on the flyer as well, placed so creatively inside a giant-sized palette as replacements for the colors that would normally be seen on one. A paintbrush sat beside the over-sized palette, and on the bottom of the flyer held a contact phone number. It didn’t seem like such a massively elaborate project, and yet, somehow, you could tell it was done by professionals. “Doesn’t it look great? Namjoon’s workers know what they’re doing.” Seokjin walked to the board, lifting up the stapler that was waiting for use on the floor. As he stapled the paper onto the board, a content grin remained on his handsome face. “I’m excited to start interviewing.”

“Yessir…” you said softly. Seokjin looked at you, patting your head gently.

“I’m going to upload the flyer to our social media accounts, and I’m sure we’ll start getting calls soon, so get your interview face ready because you’re going to be incredibly busy.”

“Yessir.” You said, nodding your head.

“And grow your vocabulary, okay?” he teased, patting your shoulder. You watched as he headed back to his office, his hands behind his back as he strolled down the colorful halls in absolute bliss. Suddenly, the man stopped in his tracks and turned to you. You could see the excitement radiating off of his entire body, and towards you. It was like he was trying to push that aura in your direction and have it absorbed into you, but unfortunately for him, it wouldn’t work. “Oh, this Friday night I want to get that dinner I keep promising you. Okay? You’re not allowed to say no.”

“Yes-.” Seokjin’s eyes widened a bit, and you smiled a bit. “I’ll be there.”

“That’s my girl.” Seokjin slapped his hands together. “Get back to work.” He waved you off before once again turning on his heel and heading down the hallway. You watched him for a moment before Hoseok stuck his head out of the classroom door.

“You almost done? We need to go get the kids soon.” He saw your hands were still full of crumpled up papers and he walked over to you, gently taking them from you. “Head inside and finish eating your lunch, okay? I’ll go throw these out.” He offered you a grin that you just had to return, it was so genuine.

“Alright.” You said. Hoseok turned to face the bulletin board, finishing what you started as you headed into the classroom. You plopped your body down on the chair, every muscle you didn’t even know you had tensed up finally relaxing into the comfort of the seat. Your eyes scanned the classroom, currently empty, though you could hear the scattered conversations of students as they went through their daily routines, talking to Hoseok, talking to each other, and even talking to themselves. You had no idea what they were saying or what they meant, but it was music to your ears just hearing the scattered little voices. As you leaned forward, you continued to eat the leftovers, though they had unfortunately gotten even colder than they were when you opened them up only 30 minutes before.

The idea that five days a week, right after the students returned from lunch, 30 minutes would be taken away from your time with the kids. You already gave up 45 minutes to Yoongi three days a week when he came down from his full-time job at the high school to provide the students with needed physical activity, but Yoongi was here way before you were, so it wasn’t a big adjustment. Hoseok had gotten his job as your teacher’s assistant right after you were hired, per your request. But this new art teacher was just something you didn’t want to deal with. What if they were stuck up? Didn’t flow well with the kids? They might not share the same work ethic as you did, how would you keep the peace between your time and theirs? These ideas ran through your mind, and you felt a headache coming on that was even bigger than the daily ones you found yourself getting simply by being in this profession. Your eyes wandered to the clock, and you stuffed one more bite into your mouth before closing your lunch and sticking it back into your work.

It was time to get the kids from lunch, and you were never one to be late.

As Seokjin heard the sound of chattering children returning from the cafeteria, he was just finishing with getting the flyers out onto social media. With the final click of a button, he leaned back in his seat. Ever since he had made the decision, he felt bad for the way it made you feel. However, he could sugar coat it all he wanted, if you were to distracted by the mundane arts and crafts, everyone suffers. Especially the children. He knew you would get over it in time, and he knew including you in the process would take a little, if any, tension off your shoulders. He saw you pass by through the square window in his door, your head turned as you kept a finger to your lips in hopes to encourage silence from the children as you passed by his office. A smile stayed on his face as his eyes fell back down to the flyer still plastered on his social media.

“That Jimin kid really did a good job.” He mumbled to himself. “Let’s see how long it takes for us to start getting some calls.” He hummed, leaned back in his seat and putting his hands behind his head.

-------------------------------

“You want me to call now!?” Taehyung shouted. His phone was resting in between his cheek and his shoulder since one of his hands was tightly gripping a piece of sketch paper while the other was lodged firmly in his pants pocket.

“Yeah!” Jimin said. “I’ve been following the school’s social media, and they just posted the flyers about an hour or so ago!”

“Shouldn’t I wait a few days or something before I call? I’ll look desperate, won’t I?”

“Taehyung, this is a job inquiry, not a first date.” Jimin groaned. Taehyung could hear his friend’s annoyance through the phone. “Just call and say you know me and that you heard about the job. Namjoon-Hyung said the guy is really nice and the school is great.”

“How would he know?”

“His son goes there,” Jimin responded simply.

“That’ll explain it.” Taehyung sighed. “Okay, okay. I’ll call now.” He said.

“Awesome! Call me back right after; I want to know how it goes! I’ll text you the number.” Jimin was quick to hang up the phone before Taehyung could even open his mouth to say goodbye. Glancing down at the phone, it wasn’t long before he saw a notification pop up, Jiminie as well as a phone number written in the little blurb. He stared at the phone for a moment, lips strung together in an extremely tight straight line. He knew the minute he did this; there was absolutely no going back. He would have to go in for an interview, at the very least. At the very most, he had to work as a preschool teacher for god knows how long. As he paced the back of his couch, he stared at the phone number, occasionally having to tap the phone with his thumb to ensure the screen would not go dark. As he paced, he thought back to the Instagram account he had come across recently. He thought about the smiling woman with the colorful paint all over her, and the students that he knew were smiling behind the emojis that covered their identities.

Was it going to be like that when he went? If so, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Taehyung sighed, pressing the phone number link as the screen went black. When a faint ringing tone was heard, Taehyung placed the phone to his ear. He chewed on his bottom lip, reluctantly halting his pacing and instead resorting to just slightly bouncing in one place. Finally, after what felt like forever, a voice spoke on the other side.

“Bright Star Preschool, this is President Kim Seokjin speaking.” The voice hummed. Taehyung froze for a moment. He couldn’t remember the last time he did this, having to act professionally. Well, he did, but the resulted in a shattered champagne glass and hundreds of eyes staring at him in shock and fear. “…Hello?” The voice hummed, and Taehyung blinked, realizing that he must have just barely been breathing.

“Y-yes, hi. Uhm, well. I heard from my friend that your school was looking for an…art teacher?” Taehyung bit his lip, scratching his mess of black hair. “He was the one who made the flyers for you.”

“Aaaaaaah, Park Jimin! Yes, he’s so talented!” Seokjin said. “I’m so glad you’re interested, you’re the first call we’ve gotten since I just put the flyers up a few hours ago.” Seokjin was silent for a moment. “Listen, Mr. Kim. Our school day is just about finishing up for today. I don’t want to inconvenience you with asking you to come to the school right away, so will you be able to come in for an interview sometime next week? You’ll be meeting the main teacher in the classroom as well.”

“Next week? Taehyung asked. “Sure. I can do that.”

“Great!” Seokjin cheered. “Do me a favor, please. Give me your email and I’ll send over a form for you to fill out and send back to me. Just put what days work best for you and I’ll get back to you.”

“O-okay…” This was all happening so fast, but next thing Taehyung knew, he was reading out his business email to the man across the phone. Seokjin laughed a bit.

“Awesome, I’ll send it over right now. Thanks for calling, I’m so excited to meet you.”

“Me too, Sir. Have a good day.” He said. Seokjin was first to hang up, allowing for a dead dial tone to ring through Taehyung’s ears. He sat down on his couch, laying his head back on the couch. “What days work best for me? I’m unemployed, all days work best for me.” He mumbled to himself. Before he had to sit and think of his busy schedule, he called Jimin back. It only rang for a second before Jimin picked up.

“What happened?” Jimin asked.

“I have an interview next week,” Taehyung said.

---------------------------------------------

“Bye, Mr. Hobi! Bye, Teacher!” Yuna cheered, waving to you as she walked hand-in-hand with her mother. You and Hoseok waved to the little girl as she clung to her mother, eyes wide as she talked about the fun day she had. A smile formed on your face, watching the eyes of the mother. She looked happy knowing that her daughter had completed yet another good day at school. Kids were being picked up left and right, a sea of loud goodbyes coming from all different angles. You smiled, waving them off as the children exited the preschool. It had been a long day of teaching about teachers, which is a lot harder than it sounds when you’re surrounded by kids who kept giggling at the fact that the same word was said twice in one sentence over and over again.

As the final handful of kids began to left, you were left with just one. Kai, also known as Hyuka by his friends. The youngest boy in the class with a big personality. He sat on one of the steps, his hands clutching his backpack as he kicked his legs. H didn’t seem to be bothered by the fact that he was the last student in school, as Hoseok almost immediately crouched down with him and began talking to him about his excitement for next week’s party. Kai grinned as she shared the fireman costume that his father was planning to buy for him just for the occasion.

“Dad said I have to use it for Halloween too, but that’s okay. Dad has lots of parties.”

“That sounds so fun.” Hoseok grinned. “What do you do at those parties?” As the boys talked, your eyes wandered to the bulletin that Hoseok had finished reorganizing. The colored papers were placed in a way that was much more visually appealing to the eye than the cluttered mess that was there before. Looking closer, you saw BRIGHT STAR PRESCHOOL along with a painter’s set of supplies sitting right in the middle of the board, being the first to take the attention of anyone that looked there. You walked over while Hoseok was occupied, hoping to take it down and place it somewhere on the board. Suddenly, you heard Kai shriek.

“Daddy!” When you turned over, you saw Hoseok stand up and wave to the man that squatted down to lift Kai into his arms. As he stood up, you saw Kai fix his father’s glasses, which had gotten slightly crooked from the impact. Kim Namjoon. “Daddy I want to tell you about my day!”

“During dinner, okay?” he smiled. “I want to hear all about it.” Namjoon’s dragon-shaped eyes fell in your direction, and you felt your cheeks heat up just slightly. Those eyes, especially when behind those thick-rimmed glasses, always knew how to make you just slightly flustered. Namjoon set his son down. “Talk with Mr. Hobi for a minute while I talk to your teacher.” He said, patting his son on the head. Next thing you know, this six-foot-tall man was walking in your direction, hands stuffed in his suit pockets. A small smile formed on his face. “Sorry, I’m late. Jungkook called, said he couldn’t’ babysit tonight.”

“No worries.” You assured. “He was only here alone for less than ten minutes.” You offered him a kind smile. “I’m sure he’s excited to tell you about the past few days. He’s been talking to me about you every chance he gets.” Namjoon chuckled a bit, scratching his head sheepishly.

“I know, I know. But my workload is definitely lighter, so I’ll be picking him up myself again.” Namjoon shifted a bit, letting out a shaky sigh. “So, you’ll be seeing a lot more of me.” You noticed Namjoon’s piercing dragon eyes turn round and soft, as a small, yet genuine smile formed on his face. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.” You said gently. “I’m sure Kai would love that.” Namjoon chuckled a bit. A moment of awkward silence washed over you, and out of the corner of your eye, you could see Hoseok giving you a glance. When your eyes met, he offered you a playful thumbs up, before quickly turning back to Kai, who was still chatting on as if Hoseok never turned away from him. When you looked back to Namjoon, he was also staring right at you. You had to admit, it made you even more flustered to have all these men staring at you.

“I…had a lot of fun at that art show last weekend.” He said gently. “Did you?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, I did. Thank you for inviting me.” He smiled down at you, and you had to reach up and play with the tips of your hair, needing for your hands to do something other than just lay dormant at your sides.

“Of course. I hope you’ll let me invite you to more places in the future.” He said happily. You sighed softly, looking at him.

“Namjoon, I don’t want my boss to make you feel like you have to-.”

“He’s not,” Namjoon assured. “I genuinely mean that I want to take you out again.” You couldn’t help but smile a bit at that. “Only if you want to, of course.”

“I’ll…think about it. These next few weeks are going to be hectic planning for the rest of the community week and the party and everything.” Namjoon simply nodded in understanding. You felt the beginnings of another awkward silence falling over the both of you again, and your eyes wandered to the bulletin board behind you. Namjoon’s gaze followed yours, most likely hoping that whatever he would lay his eyes on would lead to even more conversational topics with you. He motioned to the flyer sitting dead center of the board.

“Seokjin-Hyung hasn’t stopped talking about the art teacher job he’s opened up.” He said, looking down at you. While he expected to see yet another smile form on your face at the idea of a new coworker, instead he was met with a slight frown on your face. “You don’t look too happy.”

“It’s not that. It’s…just a long story.” You admitted, your hand continuing to comb through your locks. Namjoon nodded.

“Maybe you can tell me over dinner?” he asked, tilting his head curiously. You looked up at him, chuckling a bit in amusement, and Namjoon followed suit.

“That was smooth. But like I said, I’ll keep you updated. Now, take your son home.” You motioned to the little boy, who was now looking in his father’s direction much like how Hoseok was still staring in yours. “I think he’s getting impatient.”

“Right…” Namjoon hummed, not wanting to end the conversation though he knew he eventually had to. “I’ll call you.” He looked at you. You offered a forced smile, nodding.

“Get home safe.” You said simply, nodding your head. You watched as Namjoon returned to his son’s side, scooping him up into his arms as the boy squealed in delight. Kai waved to you and Hoseok, saying a giddy goodbye as Namjoon headed out of the preschool gates and to the car that was parked outside on the street. You rested against the wall, crossing your arms as you watched Namjoon get his child situated into the backseat. As he opened the driver’s side of the door, he turned to offer you one last kind glance, before slipping into his car and driving off.

“Did he ask you out again?” Hoseok asked, standing beside you. When he saw you nod, he simply sighed. “Aaaah, what did you say?”

“Don’t be jealous, Hobi.” You teased, turning on your heel and heading back into the classroom to gather your things.

“I’m not jealous!” Hoseok pouted, following quick behind you. “I’m just curious.”

“Don’t be. I don’t intend to do anything with him. His son is my student, I don’t want him to be overwhelmed if his dad and his teacher started dating out of nowhere, it’s not appropriate.”

“He won’t be your student forever.” Hoseok pointed out, grabbing his bag. You glared at him, and Hoseok could only smile. “I’m just saying.”

“Well, don’t just say it, then.” You said simply. Collecting your things, you headed out of the room and to Seokjin’s office to confirm with him that you were ready to leave for the day. Hoseok hurried behind you, calling out multiple apologies to you as you pretended you couldn’t hear them, despite only being a few steps ahead of him. As you walked down the hallway, your eyes fell towards a window that exposed the street outside the school, where Namjoon’s car had just been moments ago. You sighed, quickening your pace to the office.

You had no time for love, even if you wanted to. You needed to worry about this new art teacher that was going to ruin everything you had worked so hard to perfect all these years.

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comicteaparty · 5 years ago

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March 7th-March 13th, 2020 Creator Babble Archive

The archive for the Creator Babble chat that occurred from March 7th, 2020 to March 13th, 2020. The chat focused on the following question:

What is your overall marketing/promotion strategy for your webcomic?

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

I don't know if this counts as a strategy, but these are some of the things I do to promote my comic or my work in general. 1. Most important from what I've noticed (which I have been failing at due to stress and self-doubt lately) is to post updates to your comic frequently and consistently. It seems somewhat silly that simply putting your work out there is the best way to grow an audience, but it really is. Newly posted chapters frequently get shown on more pages and thus detected by the algorithms and potential readers. It also helps to establish trust with current and returning readers. 2. Participating in art/comic events, forums, and other comicking communities (such as this one). In a way, this isn't really marketing directly, but it is good to build connections with other creators! 3. Conventions! I actually have gotten a several new readers/followers from attending cons. It's also nice just to talk to people, get your name out there locally, and to make a little bit of money while at it. 4. Social media promotion. Tbh, this hasn't been super helpful to me, but more eyes is always a win in my book. I try to post almost every day, even if it isn't art or comic related. Having some kind of social media presence at all, even if it's small, shows people that you are working hard to connect to others. Also finding the right hashtags definitely helps with visibility.

kayotics

Overall, my strategy for marketing is to be authentic and just keep plugging my stuff. People will come if they like it. I work as a marketer for my day job, so I know what I COULD do, but I really don’t do that much since a whole marketing plan would take a lot more time than I have available to me. Some of the stuff I do otherwise: - regular updates. This ones pretty important for retaining viewers I already have. Any good marketing strategy is thinking about retaining people, not just getting new ones - self promo: this usually is on top webcomics or on social media. I get a LOT of traffic from top webcomics, and I get a good handful of people from social media. - conventions, like mentioned before, can be a great way to get people’s eyes on your stuff. I have a postcard that I hand out to people if they come by or they purchase something. - the thing I don’t do enough is post more art outside of the comic, or even just little previews. If I were dedicated to marketing, I’d be sharing sketches or illustrations on social media to grow my audience.

DanitheCarutor

Ah you know, I don't really have much of a strategy. At some point I promoted as much as I could on Twitter, adding my comic to those share/promo thread, getting in on relevant hashtag events, participating on WebComic Chat (whenever I remembered to). I've done a little promotion on forums, but there is really only so much you can do since only so many people hang out there and if your work is super niche like mine, they will pretty much avoid your promos at all cost. Lmao Other than those I don't really do much, at some point I attempted to use Instagram but the site/app is very stingy about offsite links. I also started a Facebook page, although if you don't have the money to boost your promos and don't usually have a lot going on with your comic outside of weekly updates, it won't get a whole lot of attention. I've also tried to be more active, but I'm not a good conversationalist, and I tend to be kind of a thread/conversation/mood killer so I try to avoid talking outside of Q&A prompts like this.

eli [a winged tale]

Same Dani, I used Instagram for a while too and I just don’t think the platform is a good fit for my vertical scroll comic (see exhibit 1) Twitter is a mixed bag as well and I think unless you have a solid following already, it’s hard to gain traction. What really helped was being on Webtoon’s staff pick for a couple days. I’m not sure how Tapas picked up but it’s reassuring that there’s a couple of followers gained every week when I posted regularly. So it really does sound like the first step is to have a steady update schedule (working on the buffer! Got a month’s work down today). It’s just challenging because while I could upload one page a week but on the vertical scroll sites it seems like a longer episode (6-7 pages) is valued more as a solid update. Love hearing everyone’s thoughts and hope to learn from y’all! (edited)

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

Consistency and con attendance were big ones for me, but something I learned worked well (and was really fun to do) was creating really fun, really dumb, non-canon bits of art every now and then. Following meme prompts or funny ideas from other people. If your comic can afford some humor being thrown its way, making people laugh is a great way to get some attention. No one needs to know the details of your story - they just need to relate to the characters/humor somehow. I had more than one person come across my dumb, meme-y ancillary art and go “Welp, I want to read your comic now.”

eli [a winged tale]

Memes to the rescue! What has been your favourite to do? And which one has surprised you in its relatability/popularity?

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

Two shots of vodka.

Also that terrible sweater meme. Everyone is required to do the terrible sweater meme. People eat it up.

eli [a winged tale]

Too good

Ahh I can’t wait till I can actually write silly adult characters

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Now that you mention it, the nice thing about the terrible sweater meme is it works with a WIDE variety of comics.

eli [a winged tale]

I would love to do a meme with y’all

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

"Came for the story, staying for the sick memes"

Spring-heeled Jack

I try to post updates every friday when my new pages go up on Patreon. And then I make my big post when my tapas and website update at the end of the month. Between all that, I have little flyers that I carry with me and if I'm ever in a shop that has a little self promotion section, I plan on tacking up a flyer. I do conventions, and this will be my first convention season while actively making a comic, so flyers will be handed out then as well.

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

My comic isnt very comedy-heavy, and even for the funny scenes, my sense of humor isn't compatible with most people's. So a lot of the memes out there just don't work. But terrible sweater meme doesn't have to be hilarious. It can be just cute, or even weird.

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

For me, uh lmao. I sometimes make some funny strip panels and it was received well even though it's not polished for my liking lmao

Spring-heeled Jack

Keii, I feel you. I'm not good with comedy and my comic isn't meant to be funny, either, so I don't know how well a comedy meme will help me.

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

overall, I try to be honest with just self promo and asking when I have a chance "Hey pls check out my comic lol"

eli [a winged tale]

Or maybe just something relatable? Seen a couple caption this on tumblr

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

I think instead of memes, what I'm gonna do is my characters cosplaying more well known characters from works that have some tonal similarities with my own. This isn't just for advertising purposes; it's something I've been wanting to do for a long time for myself. But I'm realizing it can serve some of the same purposes that memes do.

Spring-heeled Jack

That's extremely cute!

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Keyword being "SOME" Tonal similarities... Some of them aren't very similar but have a couple of parallels, etc.

Spring-heeled Jack

Oh for sure. Even if you could find that 'perfect match', it might not be a great cosplay for them, and give too much away

Are "draw the squad" prompts still a thing? I love those

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

The One White Dude and the Tiger Dude in my comic will definitely cosplay Calvin and Hobbes at some point.

Spring-heeled Jack

LOL

omg please, Keii

eli [a winged tale]

YES

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

Yeah, not every comic will have super memeable humor - but whatever you can do to break down that wall between you and a potential reader and go “Hey! Look at this. Is this relatable? Do you get the reference? Etc” Is a very good bet

Also yes squad memes are PERFECT

You can boil down your comic’s relationships so simply.

Spring-heeled Jack

I have four couples in my comic so those "ship dynamic" posts might be fun

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

What are squad memes?

eli [a winged tale]

I also need to be educated about squad I mean all the memes

Spring-heeled Jack

OH MAN!! They are fun as heck. You can find templates and it's a very simple character design in the template, but the poses are super silly. And then you just draw your characters in place of those simple figures(edited)

If you google "Draw the squad" you will find a bunch

renieplayerone

Oh! Ill have to try that! These squad bases look fun!

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

I still have one of those I need to finish Back when I first started sharing my work, I was surprised and delighted at how quickly people shoved it through a meme filter.

Maybe that’s another thing! If marketing opportunities present themselves as a surprise, try running with them and see where they take you Within reason, of course. Never feel forced to follow anything that people respond to in a particular way. Just take it into account and see how you feel about it.

renieplayerone

(Im here to lurk on this week's question, i have no strategy and need ideas haha)

eli [a winged tale]

Omg draw the squad looks

too many to choose

mariah (rainy day dreams)

I love draw the squad poses so much TuT I wish I had more time to draw within more of them. I think I always get a little dishearten about making memes because I feel like I need to make my jokes full illustrations but I never have time for much extra content beyond ballpoint pen sketches :T

Mei

Honestly I don't have a marketing or promotion strategy for my webcomic. I make updates every week, and I post it on my twitter and kinda plug it there. I'm actually god awful at trying to make people read my comic because I'm a little bit nervous about it, to be honest. So I just sort of leave it there and see if people find it, half the time. That being said, I tried to promote it pretty hard at conventions last year. But that didn't go as well as I'd hoped. I'm hoping to make flyers with QR codes so that people can scan it, and it'll take them to the landing page/tapas for the comic. That might be a bit easier than getting them to just search the title, plus having a flyer is a nice bit of promotion if I get the opportunity?! Making memes and drawing characters in different clothes or in squad things sounds like super fun tho and I might look into that in the future

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

It's nice to hear everyone talk about this topic. TBH I had completely stopped promoting my comic because I got too scared of backlash, being a disappointment, etc. (Initially I'd attracted a number of people who weren't actually my target audience, and that led to some less than ideal results.) But some time last year, it occurred to me that 1) I'm making this comic for my reader self (or my "hypothetical taste twin" as I like to call it)... which means 2) I only have to appeal to people like me. So I started asking myself, "What would I have to say/do to get me to read this comic?" and that made it significantly less intimidating. I haven't actually started doing self promo (though I did start plugging my updates on Twitter at least). But most future self promo I do will be based on that ^ question.

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

(oh god, I was just checking out the latest update for one of the Korean webcomics I read, and the new episode is about a hikikomori... who says "I want to change, but I can't step outside because... maybe there isn't a single person out there who will understand me." THAT WAS ME but with comic promo. Well, I'm getting better and I also hope this character will, too, though knowing this comic his chances aren't so great lol...)

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

I hope that wasn't too awkward to share! Tl;dr I really think the "what would I have to say/do to get ME to check out my comic" is a good approach for anyone else feeling intimidated about doing self promos.

In the same vein, but on the opposite side of the coin: I'm curious to know, what were some things that got YOU to read someone else's comic?

Some of my own answers to that aren't very relevant to what we can do for our own comics: e.g. I'm Korean and when Naver has a new comic in their pro comic lineup, I may check it out. I'm also a member of SpiderForest and I check out the applicants' comics during the app season. Stuff like that aren't really good promo options that we can take. But things that may be relevant: - 'Evocative scenery shot that doesn't show the face/ doesn't focus on the face.' MY WEAKNESS. That kinda pictures feel subtle and kind of lonely to me, even if it's a group shot. And I like stories with those vibes. -Promo includes an evocative quote. Could be from the comic itself, or from something else like a classical literature or whatever. The creator of Ark (https://www.arkcomic.com/) does this sometimes and even though I'm already following Ark, those promos get my attention.

eli [a winged tale]

Definitely the art promo now that I think of it! Merch, posters, banners etc. If the art intrigues me, I definitely take a look at the site/blurb/first chapter

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

I wonder if we can semi-workshop promo art at some point? Not really intensive like "change xyz" because that's not always feasible with art, but just impression feedback like, "this pictures gives me these vibes, and makes me expect this kinda story"

I would be curious to see everyone's even if we don't workshop

eli [a winged tale]

YES

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

Yesssss

chalcara [Nyx+Nyssa]

Yes please. I don‘t promo besides update notices simply because I have no clue to start.

Mei

Sometimes I get really attracted by the style of the story? I immediately started reading Wolfsbane because the art was cool and different from a lot of whta I'd seen on Webtoon up until that point. And then the story was perfect for me. What keii said about writing for yourself is right. Patrick Ness once said you should write the stories your younger self would have loved to pick up on a shelf

and I think that's a pretty evocative thing. At the end of the day, you should be enjoying what you're writing (hopefully). And if you enjoy it and you're having fun making it, that can rub off on the people reading it, or you find the people who like that similar vein of story?

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

(It's also 100% legit to write stories for your current self )

Mei

(oh yes 100% that's what i'm doing HEHE)

Tolkein wrote LOTR because he was like

in love with worldbuilding

was there a market for such a strange type of novel at the time? No. Definitely not. Did he write it anyway? YEAH HE DID

Deo101 [Millennium]

I really wanna do an art workshop yes.

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Aight, anyone who wants an impression feedback from me, post your promo art in #art_help

Warning, my impressions may be totally off lol

Deo101 [Millennium]

Also I don't do much marketing. Mostly I try to get in with communities and learn about making comics, I just want to improve my craft. All I really do is make my updated every week, and share whatever art Ive made on my Twitter or whatever

Okay! I think I only have my cover on my phone, but on my computer I also have my banners and icon. So I'll share all those in a bit when I'm at my computer

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

(off topic but I'm sick, and when I'm sick or very tired I constantly misread words. I read "my banners" as "my bananas" and I was very confused for a couple seconds.)

Deo101 [Millennium]

My bananers

Feather J. Fern

I am terrible at marketing my own work, but I am very good at marketing other people's work. I use the "you would like it for this reason" to grab people. Unfortunately I can't do it for my comic because I am bad at seeing the good in my own work oof. I am getting better at it though.

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

That's a really good way to do it!

And I can relate. My own hangup is a little different, but it can be extremely difficult to be brave for sure, whether in front of other people, or just in front of your own brain that constantly judges you.

Feather J. Fern

Yeah I was talking about a friend's comic and then the person I was talking to was like "Don't you write comics" and I was like "ahfoofjw yeah but don't look at them"

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

I was thinking a lot about the whole "it's like [well known work] meets [another well known work]" approach that was discussed earlier. And I think that could be relevant here. Like, think of something that has either influenced your comic significantly, or just happens to have some core similarities. How would you market that thing? Could you market your own thing using a similar approach -- since there are similarities?

I'd thought of a really good example to compare HoK to. Then I got sad because the said example is extremely obscure outside of Korea. But now I'm like, hey, people don't have to KNOW that work. I can do this differently. I can talk about HoK the way I could talk about it.

('it' as in the other work that's obscure outside of Korea)

Feather J. Fern

I do think that's a good fast shortcut but I don't like using it becuase the shortcut sometimes makes people angry when they don't get what they like out of those two things

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

That's why I said to NOT actually bring up the comparison work

Don't name it

Just list the traits that are shared in common

Feather J. Fern

Oh sorry

I miss read

(And my name changed colours all the sudden?)

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

It's a confusing topic, so no worries

It means you leveled up

Feather J. Fern

OWO!

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Say you want to compare your work to... I dunno, DBZ, because it's got super strong aliens duking it out barehanded, blasting ki-like energy attacks, etc. Don't name DBZ. Talk about your work the way you'd talk about your favorite aspects of DBZ. "My comic has super strong aliens duking it out hand-to-hand! YEEEAH!"

OH MY GOD I NEED TO DO THIS NOW.

Feather J. Fern

Yeah! That's what I would do. (But it also helps for me that my comic has no hard reference points) but for my new comic, people are gonna compare it to Zach Bell, and Angelic Layer i think

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

I'm gonna write up some drafts that I will revise and tweet at a later time

Feather J. Fern

So I jsut got to you know, not promo it as such XD

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

I want to do this too for a quick pitch

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Do it (shop talk or story help maybe?)

I'm writing a vomit draft for mine

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Yee

Feather J. Fern

I think I will do it for Story help

(Also so I can help flesh out my new project lol lol)

eli [a winged tale]

Kei I might be suuuuper off since I read only the beginning but I sort of thought inuyasha but Korea and handsome boys

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

Sometimes you don't even realize your story can be marketed as "blah meets blah" until much later down the line - I've only started realizing the number of existing properties I've absorbed unintentionally into my comic. It's not how I'd market it on a serious front, but to a friend for story help, heck yes.

But a lot of people on Twitter seem to do that strategy for PitMAD and it works great for them, so... shrug

I guess it still belongs in a "pitch arsenal," as it were

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Yeah, the one "blah" I just thought of is something I hadn't realized for all these years. But it makes so much sense now that I look at it.

eli [a winged tale]

See that’s where I got confused but I think this is what I’m gonna aim to do: - pitch to readers: inspiration but this awesome unique thing in the comic - pitch to other comic makers: the Logline - pitch to agents: comparison works if requested and longer pitch depending on their format - pitch to family: just read it plzthanksbye

renieplayerone

or alternative pitch to family: Please dear god never read this

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

That's me

Oof... Writing the 'promote your comic by talking about the traits it shares with Another Person's Work,' I made myself cry, and that is definitely a sign I'm on the right track.

eli [a winged tale]

Right track is good!

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

It took me years to even think of an 'other more popular work' comparison for Children of Shadow. XD But at the same time, it's really different from the works I compare it to, so it's hard to say 'Read this if you like X or X because it has a few similarities in theme and tone, but is still very much its own thing'.

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Yeah which is why I'm not even gonna namedrop my X.

I'm just straight up gonna talk about 'My comic has [this trait]' (and X shares that trait, but no one needs to know for the purpose of that pitch)

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

To answer the weekly question... I really don't have a marketing strategy. Marketing is my achilles heel, so I generally just throw pages up and hope someone sees them. I don't really understand social media nor do I have the energy to sink tonnes of time into it, which seems to be one of the biggest requirements for being picked up by algorithms. So my marketing strategy is just.., keep making comics and talking to other creators and hope for the best

eli [a winged tale]

I think that’s still solid Capn

Ultimately you need a product to promote

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

It's something that helps me, because while I can talk about my favorite works done by others, I feel stuck when trying to do the same with my own. So it's basically telling my brain, 'hey, you already know how to do it with other stories. Do the same thing with your own.'

eli [a winged tale]

So true Kei

renieplayerone

thats my strategy too. best case you market it great, worst case you've made a new friend so win win :3

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

My incredibly low numbers after 14 years of making webcomics beg to differ but... maybe someday I can hire someone to help me market.

eli [a winged tale]

I’m using the comic platforms rather than my own site so... sort of relying on their algorithms. I imagine it can be harder if you just post on your own website?

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Sometimes the platforms don't help much if their audience isn't into the type of comics you make

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

I post on both my own website and on platforms, but the algorithms for WT and Tapas don’t seem to like me, haha.(edited)

renieplayerone

yeah same

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

One of my top favorite webcomics got a front page feature on Tapas once, but it wasn't the kind of a story that gets a lot of traction there, so it still didn't get very popular. And that was in no way a measure of its quality. It is an excellent comic, just not a good fit for that particular place.

renieplayerone

I get far more views on my site, but I get way more engagement on Tapas and WT

I actually treat those two mirrors AS marketing for the main site(edited)

eli [a winged tale]

Exactly renie! Good perspective!

I never know what different platforms tailor to...

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Yeah, what Keiiii said. I make dark fantasy comics and both WT and Tapas favour romance, especially comics geared towards a female audience and drawn anime style. My comics aren’t particularly feminine and romance isn’t much of a focus, so they’re just not what that demographic is into.

eli [a winged tale]

I’ve been trying to remember how I came across my favourite comics and usually it’s through the art (interesting characters, unique dynamic style that I enjoy) and the first chapter holding promise (able to see what the character wants/will have to change into)

Romance has always been the best seller in the story world I think

Oh and most recently hiveworks and other web publishers have great recommendations too per genre

And comic conventions are always fun to meet creators. Sometimes If I feel I jive with someone I’m an instant fan

renieplayerone

I absolutely need to get better at having confidence enough to make friends at conventions x_x

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

I have noticed my audience grow a bit since joining Spiderforest. They’ve helped me get a bit better at promotion, though marketing just isn’t my talent, lol.

renieplayerone

im always terrified haha

eli [a winged tale]

It’s a big step for sure renie! It took me like... three years going to VanCAF as an attendee before actually exhibiting and making friends(edited)

Mei

I know i'm late but i personally detest the 'this book is X meets Y!!', even though I get why people do it. I just wish they'd describe it to me like what if I'd never read either of those books......

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

I would really love to get out to cons, they sound like a great opportunity for connecting with other creators. One of these years I’ll be able to get to one!(edited)

Deo101 [Millennium]

yeah im usually kinda like "okay, well are you doing anything new or are you just doing those things :/"

renieplayerone

I exhibit with the Boston Comics Roundtable and I still havent gotten the courage XD

Mei

yeah, cons are really fun even to attend or to make friends! I find it really tough though, I'm so intimidated;;

yeah Deo... same... it's like

sure, I could pitch a story as two things. Like I don't know "The Walking Dead meets Shaun of the Dead" which is semi redundant anyway

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

I only use it to give people a framework for the kinds of tones and themes they can expect from my work when I have to keep my explanation short and sweet.

renieplayerone

they should have badges that say "Hi i want to make friends but you are all so awesome its intimidating be kind"

Mei

or you know... use those words to just describe the story? It may be a personal preference, some agents LOVE comparisons

Yes renie, yes!

i'd love a badge like that like

pls talk to me i'm scare

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Sometimes a few words can’t fully describe a story as well as saying: ‘It’s a little bit like X meets X but if you add [insert unique thing your story does]’

Mei

I personally find that it depends a bit too much on people having read those books or stories before. BUT if you're pitching to an agent, they've usually read those books

so then they get a sense or vibe of like, what the genre is

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

It’s all down to preference, really. Your own and the person you’re pitching to. If you don’t want to use comparisons to describe your own work, that’s valid, but try not to dismiss people who do.

Mei

so I get it, I just don't like it personally xD I think a lot of the times it takes away from your own voice and story

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

That too is part of the reason why I'm not namedropping the works

Just having my self-promo self learn from my 'promo other people's stuff' self

Mei

yeah for sure, it adds that level of excitement to your own work that you'd give to others?

eli [a winged tale]

I think a cool exercise might be to check out someone’s work here and see how you would promote it

It’s always good to see from someone else’s perspective

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

yessssss, all of my friends have been much better at promoting than I am

mostly because they have no shame regarding it but they also just... know what sounds cool

Mei

Oh i'm very good at promoting my friends' work

I sold his DnD book to a kpop stan who doesn't like DnD and doesn't play, and it was a crowning achievement

eli [a winged tale]

Like for yours I’d probably say... Manta Ray princess finds herself very much dead but is given a second chance to revive her friends and save her kingdom... just need to find someone very much living and very much not afraid of the seaghosts they have become

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

SOLID

though now I imagine Phaedra as a Manta Ray in a dress which is... not entirely untrue

eli [a winged tale]

LOL omg I haven’t even thought of that! Just thought manta Princess is a hook

Mei

Me, pointing at Cheth "I mean look at him, LOOK AT HIM and tell me you don't want to read this"

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

I guess for my work I market it from four potential angles: 1) The princess is cool and has a sword, 2) The villain is the best character, 3) The environments ain't bad, and 4) THERE'S A DOG

again, you gotta know who you're talking to and what they already like

eli [a winged tale]

In a world where a fallen god became trapped in the sea, a dead princess is given a second chance to fight for her life with a mysterious sea-bitten boy and undo the sea ghost curse that plagues the world.

Dammit I repeated world

Mei

hey... the environments are GREAT

eli [a winged tale]

Yeah Lady your environment shots are

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

ok I do try BUT BACK TO MARKETING

The number of times I see someone marketing their comic with very epic-sounding descriptors or broad generalizations... then that one day where they're finally like "oh, I have a character who turns into a hamster at nighttime" and people are like 'I'M SOLD'

And then they go ".... THAT'S WHAT YOU ALL WANTED???"

often it's those little weird details that get people interested

Deo101 [Millennium]

I wanna read about the were hamster please

Mei

sometimes I think the simplest and maybe slightly silly lines are what grabs people?

when things sound TOO epic i feel a bit intimidated

eli [a winged tale]

takes notes

Mei

but if someone were to sell me a big adventure epic as "it's hamsters and they fight the forces of evil" i'd read it

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

god yes

"Four small creatures band together to defeat a great darkness overwhelming their homeland."

No.

"Hamsters fight evil."

YES

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

I.... I have no idea how to snappily describe my comics. XD

eli [a winged tale]

Same... I got to kids with wings for hair then my brain short circuits

Mei

i'd say it's the way you'd tell the story to a close friend

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

The best I came up with was 'Teenagers with supernatural powers team up with woodland critters to defeat monsters' but it sounds more adventure-y and doesn't really get at the fact that it's a dark story with horror elements and everyone's mentally ill.

Mei

like they come up to you and go "what's your comic about" "oh you know, my stupid comic's about mutant hamsters that take over the world" or something

(don't call your comics stupid none of your comics are stupid they are great)

Deo101 [Millennium]

"plant man and his goth boyfriend babysitting a ton of bozos" would probably be mine then

Mei

BEAUTIFUL

i'm sold

Deo101 [Millennium]

ghsakgjhgkhkgahgk my target audience...

Mei

i do think tho like this form of comedic one-lining may not work for something dark?

Unless you go "Spooky horror about cats that become humans at night!"

would need experimentation

eli [a winged tale]

It’s a balance I think.

Kids stranded on an island with weapons explore the darkness in human nature - Lord of the Flies

Mei

ooh yeah that's a good one!

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

A space explorer stranded on a foreign planet must join forces with the indigenous population and save his ship before his life support runs out.

Alternately

Small man goes to war with small carrot people

Pikmin

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

@Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios) I wonder if one could describe CoS the way how people might describe Evangelion, but with magical powers instead of mechs.

Teens, monsters, mental illnesses

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Probably. Though I've never seen Evangelion, but those three words work very well.

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

The relationship dynamics are way different, but yeah, those three things...

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Also add trauma and cute lil animals and you have Children of Shadow. XD

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Evangelion also has trauma (though I don't know if you'd like it; this isn't a rec, just a promo discussion!) and it was refreshing to see at the time

A teen trying to fight huge monsters, even if he was doing it inside an equally huge mech, could lead to traumatizing experiences, and it was the first time I saw that seriously explored

Hmm, so I guess "teens, talking animals, monsters, mental illnesses feat. trauma" ?

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

I don't know if it's similar at all, but that description reminds me strongly of Eureka 7. Wow, was that series intense,

🌈ERROR404 🌈

I really liked how the end happened - it was a nice solution to the lack of budget issue and told the story of his psyche reall well

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Though Eureka 7 was intense in a good way. I found the ending kind of unsatisfying, but admittedly I find the endings of 90% of animes unsatisfying (probably a cultural clash). But I enjoy them for the journey more than the ending.

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

I haven't watched Eureka 7, but the storyboard artist (one of the storyboard artists maybe?) for that anime is one of my favorite artists.

DanitheCarutor

Ah, a little late, but regarding the snappy promos I'm in the same boat as Cap'n with not knowing how to make one. At least one that would be ridiculous and totally not fitting the darker themes. I agree with all the people who have a generally hard time coming up with a pitch for their work, while having an easier time promoting other people's comics. Honestly my comic can be super boring to people who don't like pretentious, non-fantastical, angsty, character study types of stories. So it's really hard to think of a way to make it sound interesting without spoiling anything. Man! That thing when people come up to you, asking what your comic is about! Me: "Oh! Ah, it's uh, kinda sad and it has uh mental illness" -trails off with uncomfortable laughter- Them: Oh cool. -has a look of complete disinterest- Someone was actually extremely enthusiastic about the vague description of my comic, which somehow made me a mix of uncomfortable and excited.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I saw the conversation about blurbs and I just thought of one for a comic I'm working on! "An ecologist and a bird have a conversation about ethics"

I haven't started the comic yet so please send your critiques(edited)

and first impressions

(of the blurb)

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

"Angsty character study with a heavy dose of mental illness" <--- Could this descriptor work? @DanitheCarutor

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

kei said exactly what I was just typing

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Great minds

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

oh, i just realized i've read dani's comic

I think your description is fine?

The artsy, angsty comics I follow all have kind of short, tongue in cheek descriptions

it's hard to capture the tone of an emotional comic in one sentence so they either joke about it or make it intentionally misleading

for example Drop Out's description is something like "two friends go on a road trip" and Fritz Fargo's description is "a human dumpster fire in the 90s"

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

The dumpster fire one is insta-effective

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Dani, maybe make your description shorter if anything?

Something like, "An emotionally stunted alcoholic attempts to make amends"

and then follow it up with kei's line about it being an angsty character study

RebelVampire

Im not gonna stop the convo cause it is on topic. However, i do want to remind ppl these #creator_babble chats are permanently archived. So thats something to keep in mind if youre gonna workshop.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I asked before in this discord about making my own blurb better. The main critique I got was that I included too many things that I thought were interesting and unique that a new reader probably wouldn't care about. Like how the mc's powers work. But though it's unique and important to the story, it's not going to be a main reason someone reads the comic. I revised the blurb to remove extraneous info and make the tone of the comic more apparent, and I think now I didn't lose anything and made it more concise.

I think maybe agtahr could also be summarized a bit more succinctly

DanitheCarutor

Yup, you did once upon a time but said you stopped reading it a while ago. (which is totally fine, the reason is understandable.) The mix of yours and Keii's descriptions do sound a lot better than mine. Lol Thank you Fish and @keii’ii (Heart of Keol)! I've noticed people really like the word 'angst' when you describe heavy stuff. At least when I was a teenager everyone found it appealing. I'll tinker with it a bit and use Drop_Out and Fritz Fargo as a reference. Anyways, I'm going to stop talking now, don't want to bog down the main topic.

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

That's a good point; 'the best things about this story' and 'things that should go in its blurb' have an overlap, but they aren't always the same.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Yeah, I did but I'll probably pick it up again eventually. I remember enjoying it. If you do want to keep talking, we can move to shop talk?

mirandalorian

babbling I have the first three episodes of my webtoon ready to post tomorrow and I’m really excited and feel kinda proud that I made it this far...even though it’s not very far. It’s far for me without posting immediately end babbling

Feather J. Fern

I forgot to ask, but if people are tabling at cons, do you guys have promo stuff at your con tables for your comics?

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Mostly a business card, but yes

carcarchu

i never did but my table partner one year had free postcards she gave out with purchase / to passerbys with her comic info and an illustration on it

kayotics

I always keep free postcards to advertise my comic on the table right next to my business cards.

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

Yep, the free postcards did wonders for me last year. They disappeared quickly!

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

Buisness cards and postcards~

Feather J. Fern

Seems like Business and Postcards are the way to go.

Mei

business cards!!

i might be making flyers/postcards for my comic next time though! :D

sagaholmgaard

I haven't done much to promote my comic but I've gotten some good ideas reading through this, thanks! I currently plug my updates in twitter and instagram with a cool/fun panel from the new page. I do also share WIPS and try to engage through my instagram stories (Asking things like, 'what type of benders would the Reclaim squad be in an avatar au' and making doodles for the answers), but that only reaches those who follow my IG. its good fun tho. I've done memes with the characters a few times but I didn't get much attention, LOL. But it's fun so maybe worth trying again

Spring-heeled Jack

Today I went into a locally owned comic shop and went to the guy that owns it and said "I'm a local artist and I'm writing a comic. Could I give you some small flyers to let people take?" And he said yes, and then asked if I have any physical copies. I don't yet but told him I'll bring some by when I have them. He then let me know he carries other local artists! Something cool to think about if you have a local comic shop.

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

ooo that's good to know

I droped off my zines at my local comic shop but maybe I'll drop flyers of my webcomic too lmaooo

Spring-heeled Jack

I also just ordered a business card carrier so I can tote some around with ease. I carry my flyers in my sketchbook. You should totally ask, it never hurts! Carry a few extra just in case you find yourself in a new area and find another cafe or comic shop.

I ran mine off on my at home printer on some nice quality but regular weight paper. I might need to get some more professionally done.

Erin Ptah (BICP | Leif & Thorn)

I keep a handful of business cards in my wallet -- that way, any time someone says "hey, that looks cool, what are you drawing?" they get a card with the title and URL. Slowly but steadily burns through the supply.

DanitheCarutor

Seeing if my local book shops will carry copies of my comic when I print them eventually is something I'm kind of excited about! My town is hardcore into supporting local artists and writers, so that'll be something neat to try out. Although I'm a little nervous that the rating might be a little too mature for what the vendors want on their shelves.

I know of using postcards to advertise, but never heard of fliers. Maybe I'll give that a try.(edited)

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

I use double sided business cards, so on one side, it showcases some of my art, and the other side has contact info, a link to my comic website, and a QR code. It's been pretty helpful so far at conventions.

Nutty (Court of Roses)

You guys have all these sophisticated answers to this and my answer is just "scream on every social media platform I can reach and every person I meet about my comic."

Though I may not scream at people irl,,,

snuffysam (Super Galaxy Knights)

Let's see... I have a twitter where I repost my comic pages, and a couple mirrors that help reach different audiences. I've also carried around business cards that have my comic's URL on it. One fun strategy I've used is doing review-exchange things, in an I-critique-your-comic-if-you-critique-mine way (with the assumption that most people who read all the way through Super Galaxy Knights end up liking it). Though, that isn't really viable anymore now that the comic is 600+ pages, cuz nobody would ever agree to that trade lol. And... that's pretty much it? Though, I should note that my goal with Super Galaxy Knights isn't to make the most popular comic I can so that I can make a living off ads or patreon or print sales or whatever. If I ever do manage to make money off the comic, it'll be in "spinoff tech" (basically, video games or other media based off it). (it's the reason why a bunch of early Starstuff Stories fleshed out the abilities of the characters they focused on) I would like people to read the story because I think people would like the story, but it's not like my future depends on its popularity.

Holmeaa - working on WAYFINDERS

We (me and Q) are gonna (hopefully) tabeling at cons this year! I thought about doing free non permenant tattoos with our comic things. Also we have beautiful zines of the first chapter to sell. but a free postcard is also good

Desnik

promotional strategies...ah...the biggest thing I did for my first webcomic, RAWR! Dinosaur Friends, was simply update on a general platform (tumblr), using a consistent schedule and the same tags every time. That allowed some of the bigger biology/humor/critter blogs on tumblr to find me and I got a lot of people reading from their generous reblogs. I found some more niche crossover from sci-comm blog comments and dinosaur toy collector forums, because sometimes I'd have a comic that would coincide with paleontology news. It was mainly about finding my niche and bringing my stuff to that niche. To those struggling with finding readers, I would recommend distilling the contents of your comic and then reaching out to people who buy/read things like your comic. I've definitely made friends from general 'webcomic' forums and discords, but in terms of building a readership it's all about finding the niche and catering to it in a human way

In general I highly recommend shopping around for stuff like hobby blogs/forums/groups/discords that have some relation to the content of your webcomic. Those people DO want new content related to their hobby, but they don't really deal well with salesy pitches. Just be human and also a nerd for that hobby, too (nerdy enough to make webcomics about it)

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Yeah, it's like fan comic for an existing IP with an existing fandom, except it's a fan comic of a 'thing' rather than an IP (e.g. you make a pirate comic? Great! Nobody owns pirates, but there are lots of pirate fans out there!).

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

The very first customer I had at the first con I tabled at, came over and said "I like ghosts! I like the ocean! I'll take it!" And wrote me later saying it was exactly what they were looking for.

And honestly it's all because I make sure every cover has something spooky and something watery, and the genres are in the title I make it very easy for people to understand what it might be like.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

omg the genres are in the title

that's genius

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

Definitely not planned But it helps so much!

I think if authors have a rule on certain symbols/motifs they MUST make sure come across on covers/posters/etc, that can be a good marketing strategy. With some wiggle room, of course.

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

I... I feel like I can barely even describe what my comic is, which makes it so hard to market. 'Do you like comics with cute animals and eldritch horrors and angsty teens that have superpowers and hidden religious symbolism everywhere?!? Then my comic is for you!' What even is that demographic, because I sure don't know.(edited)

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

@Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios) If you take away the cute animals part, that actually sounds like stuff a lot of teens are into/ a lot of people were into when they were teens. And most people love cute animals, so adding that to the mix, in theory, shouldn't reduce the accessibility too much. Buuuuut CoS has its unique flavor that's decidedly different from all the "angsty teens, eldritch horrors, religious symbolism" stuff I consumed when I was younger. I don't know how to describe that flavor, nor how to utilize it for marketing. But yeah, maybe some food for thought?

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

I've used short phrases that are sort of representative to describe my comic. Examples include "consensual mind control" "a guy whose ideal life is not being entirely alive" "friendship" and "anticlimactic conversations"

I have no idea how effective any of those are

someone tell me pls

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

As someone who just started reading your comic last night I think consensual mind control is a really cool descriptor. I haven't heard that too much before.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

that makes me happy

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

@keii’ii (Heart of Keol) Heh, I'm not sure what that unique flavour is, either, but it might have something to do with me avoiding the typical 'chosen one' structure that most teen fantasy literature has. The characters are all (except Fawna) a part of the hidden world already rather than discovering it, and everyone's pretty much running around like chickens with their heads cut off rather than having any power over their situation (which is kind of a huge part of the theme of the comic). It's definitely different than the typical urban fantasy, so it's been really hard to find which audience that appeals to. From what I've gathered based on the people who comment on my website, it's mostly academics in college or beyond, for whatever reason. XD

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Honestly I think for almost all comics their first pages were what convinced me to keep reading. Even with Phantomarine I was ambivalent about the description but then I saw the first page, and though, yeah, I'm into this.

Maybe my own comic can be the same way

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

Exactly the same with me and your comic - I was also all about that first page It's a powerful thing! I think for anyone about to delve into a comic - which is, by nature, a very visual thing - it's going to be that visual that ultimately pushes them over the edge.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

maybe my description should just be ascii art of my main character O-O | -(edited)

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

^ It's why I tinkered with the first page of HoK soooo many times even after it went live. But it wasn't enough; it still gave off the wrong impression as to what kind of a story one should expect. Finally, more than a year after I started posting it, I redid like 1/4 to 1/3 of chapter one from scratch. Even though it will never be perfect, I can live with it now. chapter 2 on the other hand... It's an imperfect intro to the right story, rather than an intro (good or not) to the wrong story.

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

To be honest, my intro probably doesn't hit the right notes to explain what my comic is about, which may be part of my problem. It starts out seeming more like an anthropomorphic fantasy than a dark urban fantasy / horror story. That's just something I think I'm going to have to live with, because I'm tired of reworking old pages (I already do it far too much). I think my best solution is drawing a new cover that showcases the tone and subject matter better than the one I'm using now.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

oh god, you reminded me of the 3 cover pages I spent hours on only to later scrap. Then my current cover page I did in one hour after it came to me at 4am(edited)

and it was perfect

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

and my page redoings were after the reboot.

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Cap, I don't know how representative it is of the story but I looked up the Ashes cover page and it's very impressive

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Yeah, I already redrew my intro once.... and this is the third iteration of this comic. And I'm currently redrawing the first two chapters of my other comic. I'm so sick to death of starting over. -_-

@Eightfish (Puppeteer) Oh, thank you!! I like to go all-out on covers, heh.

Kabocha

Promotion... ... is that a thing you can eat? ... A few things I've tried is business cards -- tweeting about it -- posting about it on dA... I try to stay away from services like Tapas and Webtoon because I'm not formatted for those sorts of things, and I fear I'll probably just frustrate myself. It's a delicate balance right now between remaining happy with my work and getting it seen, but overall, I guess I'm not too stressed about it since it's not a source of income for me... I just... like making comics. I've also done conventions -- Conventions are fun, don't get me wrong, but nowadays they're a really low return on interest for many shows for original stuff (except slice of life and "oh no I did a bad" types of zines -- people seem to really enjoy things like that since it's often pretty easy to relate to). They feel like they used to be easier for selling original work, but the market's gotten rougher because there's so much competition and only so many dollars. if I ever print, I'm probably going to have to lean on some marketing-savvy friends for help... Hopefully things haven't changed too much by then. I think the tool that's worked best for me in the past few years has been doing guest comics here and there, as well as using topwebcomics, oddly enough. TWC was pretty good for referrals when I started doing comics way back in 2006~2007...

sagaholmgaard

Since the topic is about promotion... Do yall know if there are any twitter hashtag events for webcomic creators? My friends in the indie game industry have certain hashtags that people can post in during specific times every week - do we have anything similar?

Kabocha

#Webcomicchat!

https://webcomicchat.com/for-creators You may also find this page helpful

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

#webcomicchat is great because you get to talk shop while talking about your own work! It's not just "look at my comic"

sagaholmgaard

Ahh!! Thank you!

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

I know some people do #WebcomicWednesday - not sure how official it is, but it gets some attention!

sagaholmgaard

I'll check that one out as well!

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

There's also #comicartistsunite too

chalcara [Nyx+Nyssa]

webcomicchat always looked like fun, but I definitively am on the wrong side of the globe for the times it's going on

mirandalorian

Promotion is difficult. I always feel like I'm being too pushy, even for something that's free. I also feel like I built up a following that had nothing to do with comics or art and so when I switched directions to head that way, i don't get the response I would like. Reading all the thoughts here has been really helpful tho. Just got to put them into practice

Feather J. Fern

I think my current attempt for promotion is at least being more willing to promote. I have to force my fear of "I shouldn't tell people because it's not as good as (blank)" and just shove my comic into a spotlight

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

If anyone is worried about bothering people, putting variety into your promotions will make things more palatable for people for sure. I have one person on my timeline spamming the same exact post over and over again, almost daily, and it doesn't seem to be doing them any favors There's no need for a promotion every day. The people I see that do a more-obvious promotion tweet, like, weekly, or every two weeks, seem to get good results from that Sometimes less is more

mirandalorian

I need to get to that point Feathery. And ya, daily is a bit extreme imo. But I have to figure out the good balance

Feather J. Fern

Even weekly I don't do it because I feel like I am spamming and I feel awkward

Oh! Speaking of promotions, one way I found I got my comic promoted was by doing guest comics for other people! I got lots of viewers after each guest comic I did

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Yeah, for social media promo, e.g. on Twitter, you want to make your actual tweets have value -- not just things being linked off the tweets. (This is where gag-a-day kinda comics have an advantage, because each strip has entertainment value and you can just post the whole strip in a tweet.) Obviously this doesn't apply to every promo tweet; so like, weekly promo tweet that's solely about the links, as mentioned by others, is fine. But yeah, aside from those, you wanna make your promo tweets fun to read.

Feather J. Fern

Also cameos! Cameos are a great promo

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Not gonna lie, I am lowkey paranoid about doing cameos. Someone I know had to remove their cameo of someone else's character, because that other person objected to their character being in the print version of the comic.

chalcara [Nyx+Nyssa]

Uff

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

oh rip

Feather J. Fern

Oh man, that's rough.

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

I'll never even print HoK but I can still imagine someone being all "NOPE, I CHANGED MY MIND" at a later time

Feather J. Fern

I am planning to do some cameos for other people, not that Go Figure will ever be in print but I can see that problem. I think what I would say is that if you want a cameo you have to be 100% certain

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Might be a good idea to have a very simple agreement thing you can have them sign

Feather J. Fern

Yeah I was going to have a written consent form

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

"I agree to let you do a cameo of my character, and to not be a jerk about it at a later time. Signed"

Feather J. Fern

Signed and dated by both parties XD

Tantz Aerine (Without Moonlight)

There's also the broad hashtags like #webcomics and even things more geared to genres like #drama and #fantasy and so on. Doing art memes helps sometimes, too.

mirandalorian

What do you think the best hashtags to use are? Is webcomics too saturdated?

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

I'm not sure about the best hashtags, but my biggest thing about hashtags on Twitter : don't use a bunch of hashtags in a single tweet!

For broad hashtags like #webcomics or #fantasy, I gotta wonder if anyone's actually checking those out...

mariah (rainy day dreams)

Yeah, I usually tag my update posts with #webcomic and my comic's name, but honestly I have no idea if #webcomic has ever helped out my post ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

mirandalorian

Ya, I typically keep it to two or less, but i always wonder if webcomic is actually useful lol

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

takes note to use something more specific than #webcomic in my next update tweet

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

I think it may potentially be useful as a label for someone who's just found you on that platform, and is not sure what you're promoting. But beyond that...

Tantz Aerine (Without Moonlight)

I usually use #historicalfiction and #webcomic. Not sure which one helps more, but well, there it is.

mirandalorian

Ya, I should use the genre tag too.

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Do people even search genre tags for that matter lol (a bit pessimistic, but still a genuine question)

like, I'll be the first to admit, I don't hashtag search to look for new comics to read. I don't think I ever hashtag search ANYTHING, unless it's like..... a very active trend that I am interested in (e.g. an upcoming video game that I'm looking forward to)

Tantz Aerine (Without Moonlight)

Well, the tags are popular enough to be suggested by twitter so I'd think some use them, probably likeminded folk.

mariah (rainy day dreams)

Same keii. I mostly use hashtags to look for fan art, exclusively on Instagram.

Tantz Aerine (Without Moonlight)

There's also a trend of "art sharing" tweets. I have found a couple of artists and webcomics through that kind of event, but again, the turnover isn't anything to write home about.

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

I wonder if readers make use of the search more than us creators do?

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

I doubt it, Lee

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

I never use it as a reader, at any rate, though I don't know if others are like that.

mariah (rainy day dreams)

Though, actually that's not true, I have used hashtags to look at more things being posted within art events. So inktober, mermay, hourly comic day, etc.

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

But art event hashtags are useful, because -- like I mentioned before -- those tweets provide entertainment value without anyone having to click on offsite links. e.g. the #StartToFinish tag that's hot right now.

mariah (rainy day dreams)

I have followed new artists from those tags though and then checked out their off-site stuff. It's definitely a more round about way than someone specifically looking for comics to read via hashtag

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

From my limited observation, when people are looking for comics to read, they tend to ask for recs rather than do hashtag search?

"Anyone know of some good magical girl webcomics?" etc

which is a bit of a bummer for us creators, because that is completely outside of our control. Nothing we can do about it.

Tantz Aerine (Without Moonlight)

here's the popularity for the #webcomics tag

So SOME people use it.

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

@Tantz Aerine (Without Moonlight) I'm gonna guess it's mostly creators using them to promote, rather than readers using them to search.

Tantz Aerine (Without Moonlight)

Also it seems to be peak in popularity in the USA

@keii’ii (Heart of Keol) the graph implies interaction, really.

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

What counts as interaction?

Tantz Aerine (Without Moonlight)

tweeting it and searching it

what I'm saying is we can't know.

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

I don’t so much in Twitter, but I personally DO search hashtags on Insta to find new art.

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

It's true, we can't know. I just personally can't imagine anyone searching for #webcomics to find stuff to read

mariah (rainy day dreams)

Insta is definitely hashtag game city.

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Yeah, IG is a different beast

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Comics don’t generally gel so well with Insta’s format, though, so I’m usually seeking art and not comics.

Tantz Aerine (Without Moonlight)

just to be safe, occasionally use it

To be honest, I'm probably more likely to find and become a fan of webcomics here on this server than any social media

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Yeah, I wouldn't say "don't use #webcomics" -- use it if you have no other, more specific tags to put. But on Twitter, you don't want too many hashtags, so if you got more specific ones... use those instead!

Tantz Aerine (Without Moonlight)

I feel somewhat self conscious in getting an instagram. But I'll get one most likely.

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

It might be a good idea to switch up your tags regularly? Choose two or three from a relevant list each update and see if any of those tweets get a noticeable boost in engagement.

Tantz Aerine (Without Moonlight)

Yeah that sounds a good strategy

speaking of, any other creators into historical webcomics?

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

I don't seek them out, but there's some that I read.

Tantz Aerine (Without Moonlight)

yours is touching upon the historical keii with the joseon-style elements.

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

It's definitely not historical but yeah, got the aesthetics going for it!

Tantz Aerine (Without Moonlight)

Yeah!

I must admit, I'm a bit starved for like-minded creators. I mean people that create historical webcomics. I know and follow a few but that's not nearly enough.

(if I'm babbling too much for creator babble please tell me!)

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Babbling is fine! But this might be better for #general or possibly shop talk as it's not related to this week's topic?

Tantz Aerine (Without Moonlight)

oh sorry, there's a specific topic here too?

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Yeah, all the channels under CTP Activities have a... topic thingie that changes weekly

Tantz Aerine (Without Moonlight)

okay got it. I'll take it there. Sorry :/

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

Don't be sorry, be glad to chat about this stuff in another channel

chalcara [Nyx+Nyssa]

With insta please be mindful that if you‘ll always post with the same hashtags, their algorythmn likely will assume you‘re a bot.

mirandalorian

Oh really?

I definitely did not know that.

chalcara [Nyx+Nyssa]

Yup, it‘s a big annoyance. At least it was that way half a year ago, how is the algorythm now? Nobody knows.

I kinda hate insta, but it‘s the platform with the most interactions for me, although I don‘t know if it goes beyound liking my panel cutout.

chalcara [Nyx+Nyssa]

Instagram does it‘s darnest to lock the user into theor own ecosystem.

mariah (rainy day dreams)

Yeah, hard same. I definitely get the most likes there, but I get very few referrals from insta.

chalcara [Nyx+Nyssa]

Funnily, the only social media where I KNOW I got at least one reader from is pillowfort and their teeny-tiny webcomic comunity!

mariah (rainy day dreams)

I keep wanting to hop over there, but also starting a new social media sounds exhausting TuT one day.

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

I need to start using PF

chalcara [Nyx+Nyssa]

It‘s pretty chill, reminds me of the hey-day of livejournal, with great filtering - more intended to create many small communities than one giant pot like twitter.

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

I don’t think any platform’s algorithms like me. I get very low engagement no matter where I post. I’m just not good at figuring out what these platforms pick up.(edited)

chalcara [Nyx+Nyssa]

I still have three invites left for this week.

Tantz Aerine (Without Moonlight)

Does cross promotion work for you guys at all?

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

A little bit? But I think my comics are a hard sell, so I generally don’t get a lot of referrals when I cross-promote with other creators.

chalcara [Nyx+Nyssa]

It‘s how I found this community; but otherwise, nope.

Tantz Aerine (Without Moonlight)

Now I need to check out your comics Lee. I'm intrigued!

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Haha, if you want to! If they’re not your cup of tea that’s a-okay.

mariah (rainy day dreams)

I still have three invites left for this week.

@chalcara [Nyx+Nyssa] if you don't have plans for those invites, I would definitely take one and follow you first

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

About the hashtag thing on Twitter..... I have found the hashtags #webtoon #webtooncanvas and #celebrateCANVASday to be particularly useful for those of us publishing on Webtoon Canvas. I have gained a few new readers from this, and the official Webtoon Canvas page often retweets when these hashtags are used.

mariah (rainy day dreams)

That's good to know. I'm planning to start mirroring on Webtoon so I'll have to be sure to remember to use those tags.

keii’ii (Heart of Keol)

I need to fix my series on WT first. But I'll give those hashtags a try once that's been done

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

I tried using webtoon hashtags a few times, but their page never retweeted me. It seems either random, or there’s some hidden requirement for getting a rt.

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

i use the tag sometimes but I found it more responsive if you have a vertical scrolling format comic

then they're more likely to respond to you

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

Oh, yeah.... I use a traditional page format.

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

same rip

Cap’n Lee (Flowerlark Studios)

I do combine all my pages into long episodes at the ends of chapters, so it’s kinda scrolling, but they’re just traditional pages stacked on top of each other, lol. WT definitely doesn’t like that, but I don’t have the time to reformat hundreds of pages.

Feather J. Fern

Also promo thought, I randomly joined people's streams before and then got hooked on their comics after seeing them draw on twitch or something like that

Pistashi

I struggle a bit with promo stuff, because I get too self-conscious about self-promoting and I'm the type of person that ends up doing too much of it or none of it

at the moment I'm working on making a press kit and sharing it with some blogs and networks about comics

but still, what I usually do is join groups and try to talk with people that works with art and comics

this is kind of more inclined to networking and meeting new people to talk about what we like than promoting my work to potential readers

nothing wrong with that, but looking with a more critical eye I still have a lot to learn about building an audience and reaching people who could become future readers

chalcara [Nyx+Nyssa]

I wonder HOW much a large social media following is worth. Insta‘s shown me that it isn‘t necessarily translating into readers.

carcarchu

in my experience followings on different platforms are non-transferable. same goes with having a large following on your comic itself, doesn't necessarily mean having a lot of followers on your art accounts. that's why they say "don't build your sandcastle in someone else's sandbox"

Pistashi

that makes a lot of sense

kayotics

If you’re building your following around your own content (original art, comic updates, etc) then the likelihood that the following is transferable is higher, but it’s still not 100%. You’re competing with everything else on their timeline too.

RebelVampire

i think a thing to consider with webcomics especially when it comes to social media is that a good portion of people who follow comic creators on social media are other comic creators, not people who are just readers. and the good majority of comic creators do not have a lot of time to read other webcomics. While there are certainly exceptions, I see those very few and far in between. So the conversion rates for social media right now are super low until the dynamic of the communities on the platforms changes.

kayotics

I’d agree with that, but also having a social media presence has definitely opened up some doors to being seen by other creators, many of whom are professionals. It’s good for networking, might not be the best for gaining and retaining readers.

RebelVampire

Oh yeah for sure. My point was about conversion factor

its factor in networking is a whole other matter entirely

and is indespensible

kayotics

One thing that I didn’t mention for myself is that networking has helped a LOT with getting new readers. Word of mouth, is always the best way to advertise, and other webcomic people giving you a plug can see some really strong results

#ctparchive #comics #webcomics #indie comics #comic chat #comic discussion #comic tea party #ctp #creator interview #comic creator interview #creator babble

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princessamericachavez · 7 years ago

Text

Long distance

(this got so long i’m so sorry in advance for anyone on mobile if the read more doesn’t work)

Everything seems better once Fjord makes up his mind. Having something to do, an actual goal to seek rather than just sit around and wait for answers, helps ease the nervous energy that’s been boiling inside him ever since they left the Iron Shepherds behind. Without a moment to spare, he packs his things up and hits the road, feeling high in spirits and with a purpose for the first time in weeks.

It’s only after several hours moving that a voice in his head —quite literally— reminds of a little detail he forgot:

Fjord! Are you okay? We can’t find you. Where are you? Can you reply? Make noises if you’re in trouble! Or let us know because

“Shit.” Jester sounds panicked and about to start crying. “Jes, I’m so sorry. I forgot to tell you. I’m going away for a few days. I’m fine. I promise.”

It feels odd, like he’s talking to himself, especially when his words are only received by the road’s silence. He worries maybe he did it wrong and she didn’t get the answer. Shit, how is he going to let them know he’s alright? He should’ve let a letter or something.

Thankfully, Jester’s voice returns to his head. This time it sounds smaller, still a little shaky:

Oh. Okay. Well. You’re coming back, though, right?

Fjord feels his heart break a little at Jester’s hesitation.

“Of course, Jester. I promise. It’s just going to be a few days. There’s something I need to do. Then I’ll be back.”

He gets no answer this time. He waits for it, but it doesn’t come. His stomach turns with guilt —a feeling he’s grown familiar with the past months— and he fights off the impulse to turn his horse around and head back to Zadash. He can’t do that. Not now that he has a goal. With a heavy sigh, he pushes on, hopes the others will understand.

The thing about traveling alone is that it’s nerve-wrecking. There’s no one to keep watch if you want to sleep, so Fjord barely closes his eyes through the night, listening carefully for any cracking branch or whispered word in the dark. In the back of his head, he keeps waiting for the Iron Shepherds to show up again, even knowing they are death. He’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.

That’s why when a loud voice wakes him up in the morning, his first instinct is to summon the falchion out and wave it around at thin air:

Hi, Fjord! How are you? Are you okay? Because you are traveling alone and that can be very dangerous and I just wanted to make

“Jeez, Jester! You scared the hell out of me!” Fjord groans, feeling his heart beating frantically in his chest. “I’m fine. Also didn’t get that last part.”

Oops! Sorry. I forgot. Okay okay that’s good. We are just hanging around and shopping here. We miss you.

Fjord sighs and shakes his head. “Yeah. Miss you too,” he huffs, standing up. He does not regret missing their shopping trip, it’s never been his favorite thing anyway. This is better, even as he’s sleep deprived and exhausted. This is good.

The third day, he gets up at dawn after another sleepless night, and hits the road early. Jester’s voice catches up to him when he’s already moving along.

Hey Fjord! Are you still okay? Maybe you shouldn’t be traveling on your own for so long you know because the roads can be very

“I’m fine, Jester,” he rolls his eyes, even if she can’t see him. “Don’t worry about me.”

Alright. But how will you let me know if you have a problem? Can you cast message too? We should really come up with a

He can hear the panic raising in her voice as the sentence moves on.

“Jes,” he sighs. “I’m alright. Really. I can take care of myself.”

As he should’ve done all along. As he should’ve been doing when they were taken. If he hadn’t forgotten how to look after himself, maybe none of this would have happened.

Well… okay if you say so! Just in case I’m gonna keep checking in with you, okay?

Relieved that no one can see him, Fjord smiles softly.

“Yeah, okay. Thank you, Jester.”

He can watch out for himself, but there’s something nice about having someone else that cares. It’s an unfamiliar feeling.

It catches him by surprise the next morning, as he’s having breakfast at the inn he spent the night at.

You know, it’s a Little boring around here right now. Beau and Caleb went on a monk retreat and Nott has been working on something

“A monk retreat?”

Jester’s voice is so familiar, and it sounds so close, that his still half-asleep brain for an instant thinks she’s sitting by his side. He does a double take on the empty chair next to him when he remembers she’s not.

Yes! Well something like that. I think Caleb wanted to see the library and Beau is probably doing cool monk stuff, you know? Like kicking

“Well, that’s interesting. I’m sure they’re both learning quite a bit. It’s a good way to spend our down time.”

Yeah it’s nice, I guess, but I miss them and you’re gonne too and that kinda sucks.

The shortness of that last message catches Fjord off guard. He frowns to himself, wishes he could see Jester’s face right now to figure out whether she’s alright with half of the party being away. She keeps telling them she’s used to being on her own, but he doesn’t think she particularly likes it.

“It’s alright,” he says, “I’m sure the time’ll pass by before y’all even notice.”

He gets no answer, and it leaves him feeling a little uneasy for the remainder of the day.

Hey Fjord! Just wanted to say good night and make sure that you are okay. Everything is still boring here but Caduceus and I were

He nearly falls off his horse when Jester’s enthusiastic voice rings in his head like a bell, and begs to whatever god is listening that Jester doesn’t get to hear the startled high-pitched sound that leaves his throat.

“Jester,” he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Word limit.”

Oh, sorry. Nott and Caduceus and I were thinking of going shopping tomorrow again. We wanna get some diamonds, you know? Just in case we

“That sounds like a good idea,” Fjord nods. “It’ll be good to have them as back up. Just in case. Good thinking, Jester.”

He gets no new message, so he sighs and pushes on. His search so far has lead nowhere, so it’s good that at least his friends are doing other useful things in their down time. It’s very good, actually. He should be happy about it. Instead, an uneasy feeling knots inside his chest. He should be doing more. Why does it feel like he’s just wasting his time again? Floating around aimlessly?

Fjord reaches the empire’s border by the end of the sixth day, tired and frustrated and in a terrible mood. He got no answers. All this traveling, and he got no damn answers about Sabien or Bandran or whatever keeps lurking in the shadows in his dreams. He’s like an aimless ship, just floating around. Ever since he started this trip, ever since leaving Port Damali, what’s it even been for?

He stares at the gates with a scowl, wanting to damn the day he crossed them in the first place.

He could go now, just leave and risk the road on his own. He could just go home and deal with whatever the hell is going on on his own, as he’s always done.

That’s when a familiar voice reaches him, quieter than usual, almost hesitant:

Hey Fjord! How is your trip going? I really miss you. You are… you are going to come back right? Because I wouldn’t want to

Whatever darkness was taking over his mood relents instantaneously. He can’t leave just like that. He has friends, now. Friends who risked their lives to save him when they had no obligation to. Friends who are waiting for him to return. Friends who worry about him like no one ever has before.

“Hey, Jester,” he says gently, as he turns his horse around and heads back into town. “S’all good, but I miss y’all too. Don’t worry. I’ll be back soon. I promised, remember?”

He doesn’t get a reply, but for an instant he’d swear he can feel Jester smile from afar.

Seven days of non-stop travel are exhausting as hell. Fjord reaches Trostenwald as the sun goes down and all but collapses in the same inn where they all met months ago. He tries his best not to get swept in by melancholy and guilt as he looks at the tables they all shared for the first time, instead choosing to call it an early night and hit the sack to avoid his thoughts turning grimmer than they already are.

He’s nearly asleep when Jester’s voice rings in his mind.

Hey Fjord. Are you still alive? Also, good night!

He should be annoyed by being awoken when he could finally rest, but instead Jester’s message startles a laugh out of him. It’s shortness, however, leaves him longing for a little more. Jester’s messages are the most he’s been talking the past few days (when not trying to extract information out of someone)

“Hey, Jester. Yeah, guess I am. Tired as hell, though. How about you? What’s everybody been up to while I’m gone? Bet you’re having fun with all the shopping and-”

Oh! I’m very very good!

Fjord blinks, startled. He forgot about the word limit.

You know, Beau and Caleb came back today and it was nice being all- well not all, we missed you

He feels his heart swell with warmth, in a way it hasn’t ever before, imagining his friends all sitting together. Maybe not here, where they started, but far away somewhere, laughing and drinking and surviving together. Molly’d be delighted.

“Damn, I wish I was there right now. I’ll be back soon, though. The road isn’t the same without you. I’m in Trostenwald right now, actually.”

Oh, that’s so nice! We had some fun in Trostenwald, right? Aside from the crazy killer toad and all that? We met our friends!

“Yeah, we did,” Fjord smiles at the memory. “That was nice. Not that- uh, not that traveling with you wasn’t nice enough, but you know- it was also very nice.”

Oh Fjord!

He feels his face burn at the way she swoons, and is grateful she’s not here to see it.

I really loved our alone-time too, you know! We could do more of that, if you want. I’d totally like to

“Yeah, uh, right. Hum. Right. We can talk about that later. Or not. We’ll see. Uh. Good night, Jester.”

Damn, he’d forgotten how quickly she can get under his skin. Twenty-five word limit and she’s still making him feel like a blushing child.

Fjord did I tell you about the axe that Pumat Sol is making for me? It’s gonna be so cool!

“Uh,” Fjord blinks distractedly at the in-keeper he was in the middle of a conversation with. “Sorry. One moment.” He turns around and walks outside, where others will not think he’s just talking to himself. “No, Jester,” he finally sighs, “you didn’t. But, look- I’m in the middle of something right now, maybe you can tell me later.”

Well it’s just gonna do extra damage. I wanted one that would make people dance but it was too expensive and he said instead he

“That sounds very interesting,” he says, distractedly, “you can tell me more about it when I get back. Gotta go, now, though.”

He gets no answer. With a heavy sigh, he shakes his head, recomposes his expression and walks back into the inn with a smile.

Oh my god, Fjord! We had so much fun today! We went to the Platinum Dragon temple and then we sneaked in in disguise and

“Why did you go to the Plati-”

So we are in there and then they come back with a bunch of crowns guards and they started chasing us so I tried to

Shit.

Fjord pulls at the reigns of his horse to a complete halt, feeling his heart skip a bit when Jester mentions getting in trouble with crowns guards.

“Jester!” He groans, cursing the fact that the damn word limit won’t let him hear the rest of the sentence and she’ll probably not even notice until-

Charmed all three of them and convinced them I wasn’t me and then I made a lot of mirror images and ran away and they

“Wait. Jester. Stop. Okay? Stop. Is everyone alright? What happened? Did you guys get caught?”

Fjord, weren’t you listening to me? Of course we didn’t! We are very good at this. We got away and technically nobody got hurt, technically.

“Technically? Jester, seriously, I know you get a kick out of this stuff, but you gotta be careful. I’m not around to bail you out right now, and gods know Beau and Caleb aren’t the best at dealing with Crowns Guards and what if Nott had gotten caught? Or someone had been hurt? Why would you do this when I’m not around to help?”

Fjord realizes he went well over the word limit half way through ranting, but he doesn’t stop. If anything, he’s glad Jester doesn’t get to hear all of his worry and guilt and how much it’s weighting on him at the moment that he wasn’t there to look after her and Nott when they got in trouble.

He should’ve been there. Why did he even left?

He waits for an answer for a long while before it hits him that Jester must have ran out of spells after four sendings. Dammit.

He wakes up to Jester’s message early in the morning as the sun is rising in the sky.

Hi Fjord! Just checking in. We are all still here just… hanging out.

It’s short and half-hearted and it makes Fjord’s stomach twist, but the ghost of worry and anger that’d weighed on him yesterday still lingers enough for him to remain stoic.

“That’s good, Jester. All good in this end.”

He gets no answer. His tent feels suddenly colder, too quiet for the chaos and fun he’s grown used to the past several weeks. With a heavy sigh, he stands up and begins picking his things up. He wants to get to Zadash as soon as possible.

Fjord doesn’t hear from Jester today.

He expects another early morning message as he picks up his camp, but no voice breaks through his thoughts before he hits the road.

He catches himself expecting to hear from her as he treks through the roads of the empire, missing the constant chatter that’d filled their early days together as they made their way through the Menagerie Coast, but the woods are silent and lonelier than ever.

By the time night falls, the uneasiness in his stomach has turned into a knot so heavy that, for a moment, he thinks maybe he can finally feel the eyeball that’s supposedly inside him but no, it’s no magical rock what’s making his guts twist painfully as he sets up camp, it’s the absolute silence that’s filled his day.

He tosses and turns in his sleeping sack for hours, fighting sleep off in hopes that the message will eventually arrive, until sleep knocks him out in the early hours of the morning.

His dreams are as uneasy as his vigil.

Oh my god!

Jester’s voice wakes him up, loud and clear, and he all but jumps to his feet —tripping on his sack, mainly— summoning his falchion as his heart beats full speed and his veins fill with determination.

Fjord, hi! How are you? I totally fell asleep yesterday and I forgot to message you but I didn’t forget you we

Relief hits him like a ton of bricks. Fjord’s body goes boneless as he drops back on the tent’s floor, trying to catch his breath.

“Hi, Jester,” he groans with resignation. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. Didn’t really notice,” he lies, and immediately regrets it. “Well, kinda did expect you to call, but it’s fine. Really. Everything okay?”

Oh yeah, we’re all good. Actually, yesterday was a lot of fun because we all went together to this very cool bar and then we

Still recovering, Fjord sits on the floor and waits, knowing she’ll eventually realize she needs to recast the spell.

And it was so funny you should’ve seen it! Beau couldn’t stop laughing and Caleb kept trying to read even if he couldn’t see much

Even though he doesn’t know most of the story, the joy in Jester’s voice as she tells it makes him laugh.

You would’ve really really loved it! I wish you’d been here!

“I wish I’d been there too,” Fjord admits with a smile. “I’m just about two days worth of travel away, now. So I’ll see y’all soon.”

He gets no answer, but that’s okay. Just one more night and he’ll be back with his friends.

This time, he’s expecting Jester’s voice (he never knows when it’ll come but he’s always ready). He smiles as it comes in with it’s familiar sweet as candy tone.

I didn’t tell you the other day but I saw the Traveler and he’s cool and we are good again and he still likes me

There’s a lot to unpack there. Fjord frowns a little as he thinks it through. He still has a hard time understanding Jester’s relationship to her deity, and even harder believing that a god would show up just like that to have a conversation with someone... but it’s the last part that catches his attention.

“Of course he likes you, Jess. You said he’s your best friend, isn’t he? What made you think he didn’t?”

Well I thought he hadn’t come to help us in the dungeon but he did we just couldn’t see him and then he said he

Fjord scowls again. He’s not sure how he feels about Jester’s god having been there the whole time. Better? Worse? Angry? Bitter? He wants to ask why he didn’t do anything, but it feels like it’d be out of place.

“That’s interesting. You did mention he’s probably invisible most of the time,” he offers. “I’m glad y’all are good again.”

We are also going to put together a reunion of other Traveler followers next year and it’s gonna be so much fun, Fjord! I can’t

“Oh, damn,” Fjord laughs as he jumps off his horse and hands it over to the stable boy of the inn, “I’m not sure Zadash could handle more than one of you at a time. You’re quite an agent of chaos, Jester.”

I know! That’s what he said, too! Jester sounds delighted. Imagine all the fun things we could do if we all got together!

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Fjord chuckles, as he walks through the door. “Can’t wait to hear all about it. Why don’t you come down stairs and tell me more?”

Fjord swears he can hear Jester’s distant delighted squeal three floor above as she gets his message. It’s weird, to hear her with his ears rather than his mind. A good kind of weird.

Waiting for the impending storm of a tiefling to arrive, he orders a glass of whiskey and a glass of milk and joins Beau and Caleb at their table. They greet him with a genuine smile and ask how his solo trip went.

“Oh, you know, it wasn’t so bad. I had some pretty good company.”

#this is so long holy shit #i'll post it to ao3 tomorow or smth #this got waaaaay out of hand #fjorester #fjord #jester lavorre #critical role #cr spoilers #sofia's nonsense #critter fic #critter fanfic #i apologize in advance to mobile users

246 notes · View notes

gimmesumsuga · 7 years ago

Text

Sweeter than Sweet (8)

Pairing: Jimin x reader + others as the story progresses

Warnings: None to note.

Word count: 2.7K

Previous / Next

Moodboard by @yminie <3

Jimin’s suggestion to further explore the house proves too tempting of an option to ignore, regardless of how tired you might be. It's probably a good idea for you to try and adopt a nocturnal schedule, anyway, if that’s the way everyone else operates. You wander back down the corridor first, taking the time to look at all the lovely paintings hanging on the walls. Someone certainly seems to have good taste, although you can’t hazard a guess as to the resident whom the artist might be. Yoongi, perhaps? Peeping inside the door that leads to the kitchen you find it sitting silent and empty, so you leave it behind and continue down the corridor until you come to a grand entrance hall. The main staircase, a dark mahogany coloured wood, dominates the centre of the room, the balconies of which overlook the entrance before branching off to the rooms of the second floor. The floors are a shining, polished wood, and once again you find yourself glad that your bare feet allow you to move almost silently through the house. Suddenly the sound of laughter catches your attention, echoing out into the hall from a door that stands ajar. You head over cautiously - trying to ensure that you’re not about to come unexpectedly face-to-face with Namjoon any time soon - and peering through the gap in the door. You see a large living room with several couches that surround a TV on which colourful images are flashing, and on further inspection you spot both Taehyung and Hobi sat on the floor with their legs crossed and wide smiles on their faces as they play video games. Jin’s watching, laughing along as the boys tease each other when either of them loses, and Jungkook is sat on the couch nearby with his knees drawn up to his chest and what looks like a sketchpad in front of him, concentrating hard. You can’t believe how normal they look – like a standard group of friends just hanging out together and having fun. Watching them you’d never suspect there was anything more secret or sinister going on behind the scenes. Part of you is tempted to go inside and join them – they do certainly look like they’re having fun – but they’re being so loud, talking to each other excitedly in Korean, that it feels a little overwhelming. You head in a different route, taking the corridor that leads in the opposite direction to Jimin’s room, and as the sound of laughter fades into the distance, another sound replaces it. You can hear soft, gentle music coming from ahead and you follow it curiously. It’s a piano, you realise, playing a slow lament full of feeling, though you’re unable to tell if it’s a record or someone playing themselves. Eventually you come to the door from which the music is coming, and now you’re able to tell that it is indeed someone playing the piano; you can hear the soft press of the keys as each note plays. Slowly, you push open the door, trying not to disturb whomever is inside.

Yoongi is sat at the piano, fingers moving in perfect synchronicity as he smoothly plays the melody. He keeps flawless pace and rhythm even though he has his eyes closed, his body swaying slightly, and as you watch him play, leaning against the doorframe, you find yourself entranced by the sight and sound. He plays so very beautifully; you’re in awe. The song slowly fades to an end and Yoongi’s long fingers leave the keys, pushing the roll of his shirt sleeves back up to his elbows. “You don’t have to just lurk in the doorway,” Yoongi says loudly, startling you out of your reverie. You feel your cheeks go pink, glancing down at the floor, but even though you’re embarrassed to be caught loitering you still take the cue to enter. His eyes open as he turns his head to look at you and you notice them widen marginally, running from top to bottom as he takes you in. Must he always look at you so intensely?

When you lean on the piano with a smile Yoongi looks away, smiling sardonically.

“Jimin’s dressed you up like some kind of forbidden fruit,” he chuckles. Was that a compliment? You feel your cheeks redden even more, whatever it may be, so you choose to gloss over it, changing the subject. “You play beautifully,” you tell him with genuine enthusiasm. “Thank you.” He plays a note or two one-handedly, peering down at the keys. “I’ve had a lot of time to practice. Do you play?” You shake your head with regret. “I had a few lessons as a child… I was never very good at it.” Yoongi shifts over on the piano stool and pats the fabric next to him, inviting you to come sit, and after a moment’s hesitation you do. “I wish I’d tried harder; I love music.” You prod tunelessly at a couple of keys, trying to ignore the feeling of Yoongi’s eyes on you. “I’d be happy to teach you a little, if you like.” You look up with an eager smile. “Yes, please, I’d really like that.” Yoongi nods thoughtfully and then turns to the keys, shifting to get comfortable, hip knocking into yours. “Watch,” he instructs, slowly playing a C-scale for you to copy, each delicate finger crossing over the next and back again. His hands are mesmerisingly graceful, and you’re so caught up just watching them that for a second you don’t even realise he’s stopped playing. Clearing your throat, you attempt to copy what he showed you, and though you manage to play the notes you can't ignore how much clumsier your hand looks than his, how clunky you sound in comparison. “Not bad.” You feel like Yoongi is being over-generous but thank him anyway, blushing down at your lap. “Again.” Over and over you practice the scale, and once you’ve successfully mastered the notes Yoongi starts to count over you as you play, helping you to keep rhythm. You’re feeling pretty pleased with your progress until Yoongi tries to get your left hand playing as well as your right, - it gets far too complicated then, fingers tripping over one another in their haste.

He laughs as you growl with frustration, knocking his shoulder against yours. “It’s just your first try,” he assure as you go again, the notes becoming sloppier with the more exasperated you become. “Easy for you to say,” you moan, “You’ve got all eternity to practice.” Yoongi chuckles softly at your frustration, bobbing his head in a nod. “Good point.” You feel him watching as you carry on, determined to get it right at least once before you call it a day - or night, rather. “I hope Jimin wasn’t too hard on you,” he says after a few minutes more. You stop playing, looking up from the keys and to his face instead, admiring his profile. Everything about him is so angular; his eyes, his jaw. And yet, despite this, Yoongi manages to look somehow soft, black bangs dangling into his eyes, dainty earrings dangling from ear. “Not as hard as Namjoon was on him,” you reply, picturing Jimin’s wounded face in your mind and realising that the ache you’re feeling in your gut is there because you miss him - even after this short amount of time. “They’ve been in worse fights, believe me,” Yoongi smirks, starting to play a simple, lively melody with one hand. “Not you?” He laughs breathily again, shaking his head. “I might be moody bastard, but I don’t have a temper like Jimin.” “You don’t seem moody to me,” you blurt out. You can see how people might think that of him, granted. Yoongi’s default expression - unless he’s smiling or laughing - looks pretty miserable. His aloof air he gives off doesn't really help either. Yoongi abruptly halts what he’s playing, smiling down at the piano keys. “Don’t let his temper fool you, Jimin’s the softest of us all.” He continues the tune he was playing, fingers practically dancing.

You wonder if what Yoongi says is true; is Jimin really so sweet? You’ve certainly seen his temper in action, and you’ve no doubt that he can be dominating - forceful - but soft? Perhaps you just don’t know him well enough yet to see that side of him. You chew on the inside of your mouth thoughtfully, hoping you will do soon, when Yoongi abruptly stops playing again. “Sorry, you’re the one supposed to be practising.” “No, please, you play. I think I’ve had enough for today.” “Alright,” he concedes, starting to play with both hands again, his foot pressing against the pedals at the piano’s base. “We should probably be more sociable - go and join the others.” “Ugh,” you jest, scrunching up your nose in distaste, “I guess you’re right.” Yoongi smiles gummily, holding back a chuckle. “Perhaps just one more song?” You and Yoongi do go and join the rest of the group eventually. Jin is considerate as always, checking, as Yoongi had done, that you’re alright after the earlier events whilst Jungkook exchanges shy smiles with you from the sofa opposite. After much persuasion, you agree to have a turn at the racing game they’re been playing - despite never having been much of a gamer - and much to Hobi’s amusement (and Taehyung’s frustration) you seem to have been blessed with plentiful beginner’s luck. Though, can you call it beginner’s luck when you seem to beating each and every one of them several times over? In the end Taehyung snatches the controller back, inspecting it suspiciously as you laugh at his absolute dismay. You’re more than happy to let them have the game back, to be honest. Good at it or not, it’s not really your thing. You’re just tucking into a pizza that Jin had presented you with when Jimin finally gets home. He comes trudging into the living room looking weary, his normally neat grey hair in disarray and... is that blood on his shirt?! “Aigo! Don’t sit there!” Jin cries just as Jimin slumps into an armchair, stains on the fabric be damned. Jin ‘tssks’ brusquely but Jimin gives him a withering side-eye, clearly not in the mood to be lectured. “You have trouble?” Taehyung asks as he pauses the game, momentarily distracted from his reign of victory over Hoseok. “You look like shit,” Yoongi comments dryly, his headphones still on but obviously not too loud. Perhaps these guys have been desensitised to blood – you guess they must be – because you seem to be the only one that can’t stop staring at the dinner-plate sized bloodstain right in the centre of Jimin’s t-shirt. “There were more of them than I expected.” Jimin pushes his bangs back and then stretches his neck, leaning it from side to side. How does he make that look so good? “Nothing I couldn't handle.” No one says anything more, turning back to their respective activities whilst you’re the one left gawping at the rest of them like they’ve lost their minds. How is everyone so casual about this?! “Jimin… what exactly was it that Namjoon asked you to do?” you ask, unable to stow your curiosity any longer. Jimin looks at you for the first time since he came in, and when his eyes flick down to the collar still sitting on your neck you see the corner of his mouth twitch into a smile, like the sight of it pleases him. He’s about to open his mouth to explain when suddenly Jungkook speaks up from your side. “Should we be telling her? What if Namjoon-“ “She’s going to find out sooner or later, and I’d prefer to come from me,” Jimin replies and after a moment longer of hesitation Jungkook nods resignedly, turning back to his sketchpad. You look around the room at each of them, nervous churning in your stomach in anticipation of what he’s about to tell you.

What kind of secret could they have that they’re more bothered about telling you than the one they already possess?

“We’re hired assassins,” Jimin tells you bluntly, leaning forward in his seat with his hands clasped together, watching you closely to gauge your response. Your eyes widen slightly, blinking once, twice, three times without speaking. Ok, so now that’s two different ways in which they kill people. How… reassuring. “That’s how we live as we do,” he continues to explain, obviously referring to the opulent surroundings in which you, “It suits what we are, this kind of-” “Jimin’s the best,” Taehyung interrupts enthusiastically with his square little smile. You attempt to return it, noticing the way Jimin seems to puff up with pride at the compliment. “It provides an outlet for our violent natures, and the opportunity to feed.” Jimin waits for a reply, pursing his lips together, but you’re struggling to find the right words to say. After almost a full minute passes Jimin begins to frown, leaning forward even more and asking softly, “Are you ok?” “Yeah,” you hastily, your head shaking the opposite answer. It’s not exactly what you were expecting to hear but... “Who… um… what kind of mark do you have?” ‘Marks’ - that’s what they call their targets, right? “Namjoon takes the contracts and directs us; we never know all the details,” Jimin admits, relaxing back a little now you don’t look as though you might bolt and run. “It’s never anyone that’d be missed,” Hobi pipes up, but to be honest that doesn’t make you feel much better. “It’s usually one gang hiring us to take out a rival members of another gang. Drug dealers, criminals that have escaped justice and families wanting revenge… that kind of thing,” Jimin adds, and ok, that does help a little bit. At least they sound like bad people rather than those who are innocent. “I guess it’s better than feeding on randoms,” you admit and Hobi has the good graces to glance at the floor, shifting uncomfortably whilst Jimin’s head tilts to the side, hands clenching together in his lap. “I understand if this is hard to swallow. You can still leave… Say the word and one of us will drive you home. We won’t bother you again.” “No!” you answer quickly, loudly, and you swear you see Yoongi smirk out of the corner of your eye. That’s the last thing you want. It’s not like this really changes anything; you’ve known from the start that Jimin is a killer by nature. Now you just know he has other motivations save food alone, and whether that’s better or worse you’re really not sure - all you’re certain of is not wanting to leave.

Jimin straightens up in the armchair, running his hand through his hair as he goes, face cracking into a sweet, genuine smile that has your heart fluttering in your chest. He seems pleased that you don’t want to leave, and that makes you happy in turn. “Good.” You stare back at each other with little smiles, and when Jimin looks at you this way it makes it hard to remember anyone else is in the room; a fact that the others quickly pick up on - all but Taehyung, of course. He calls your name, offering a controller back to you. “Wanna play?” “I’m good Taehyung, thanks,” you reply, your grin widening as Jimin’s does, still not taking your eyes off one another. “Ok, I think I’m gonna get gone…” Yoongi murmurs, standing from the sofa with earbuds still firmly in place and leaving without another word. “The sun’s almost up, and I could do with some rest. Are you coming?” Jimin asks, rising from his chair, and without even having to think about it you get up to follow. Jimin places his hand around the back of your neck, just above the collar, squeezing gently as if to reassure himself that it’s actually there and then letting go again with a contented exhale. “Goodnight, guys,” you say to the others and you get a chorus of goodnights in reply, laughing when Jin blows you a kiss from across the room. As you fall into step with Jimin you’re smiling like a goon, happier than you’ve felt in years.

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