therapybypro

[limirint]

I think that pacing is truly the most frustrating part of my writing process. I crave a slow burn!!!! But how slow should I make it? Should it even be burning yet? Maybe I should write an exposition about the matches first, that way I can lead into the flame— no don’t leave stick with me

[ahsokasleftbicep]

Name and Soul: Chapter 6

It's finally here! I am SO SO sorry for the delay. This weekend has been insane. But anyway, let's go.

@mqgriett @darkangel4121 @thelambandthewolffe @maulscrosshair @trash-dino-5000 @lightning-wolffe @killtherandomness @shadowwing1324 @sydnubabu @lafy-taffy @photowizard17

Crosshair x F! reader

Word Count: 2042

Warnings: SPOILERS for episode 6, Rampart being a *ahem* douchebag, super conflicted Crosshair, internal conflict, Tech being amazing, Wrecker kicking ass, there are a few curse words but nothing too bad, I think

“Y/N… Y/N!” Omega tugs on your hand.

You shake your head and look down at her. “Huh?... What?” The girl points at the makeshift target painted on the far wall.

“Good job, Omega! You’re getting there!” You ruffle her hair and she smiles. “How about you try again?”

Omega nods and readies herself with the Zygerrian bow. You look out the door and tune everything out. After you saw, well thought you saw him, you stood in the middle of the streets until someone bumped your shoulder. It couldn’t have been him. That’s impossible, he would be on Kamino. And he didn’t have any weapons besides his knife, he never brings only one weapon. And his eyes… It had to be him.

You refocus when Omega lets out a frustrated groan.

“But I’ve already hit the target three times.”

Echo rests his hand on her shoulder. “Out of 12. That’s luck, Omega, not skill.”

“He’s right.” You hop off the gambling table and nod at the target. “Soldiers need to be consistent and that comes with time.”

Omega tries again but misses, glaring at the Weequay and Ithorian. “I was doing better until those two showed up.”

Echo glances at you before looking back to Omega. “You have to learn to tune out distractions, which comes with practice.”

“Try again, Omega. You can do it.” You smiled at the girl and winced when she missed again.

“Not exactly a natural, is she.” Cid walks up and nudges Wrecker off of his seat. “Playtime’s over, I got a job for you.”

You all gather around the table, making yourselves comfortable. Omega reaches up to you and you pick her up so she can see.

“I assume you guys know what a tactical droid is?... They were the opera…”

“The operational brains of the Separatist military-” Tech butts in.

“Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba.” This is my briefing, Goggles.”

Tech steps back offended while you and Echo try to muffle your laughter. Tech elbows you with a small smile before refocusing on Cid’s briefing. This is going to be a fun mission.

--

He was tired. God, he was so tired. Crosshair lied on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Despite his exhaustion, he had been trying to go to sleep for hours.

Why did I run? Why did I leave her there? Why did you go in the first place, you should’ve killed her. I love her. She betrayed the Empire, tried to kill you. I tried to kill her first.

Crosshair sat up from his bed and removed his necklace. He turned the ring over in his hand, looking at the engraving. O'r gai bal runi…

Y/N… I’m sorry. Please, forgive me.

“CT-9904, report to my office immediately.”

….“Yes, sir.”

--

“We’re approaching the decommissioning site. We can land at the dockyard and go in on foot.” Tech turns his head to look back before landing the ship.

You put on your helmet and look down at Omega. “You ready kid?”

“Definitely!” The girl runs ahead before Hunter holds her shoulder. You all crouch behind a wall. You raise your brow at Tech and poke his shoulder.

“What’s with the police droids? Cid never mentioned those.”

The man rolls his eyes and looks at his vambrace. “They operate on a rotating quadrant scan. If we time it correctly, they have a blind spot.”

“That’s our way in then.”

“Precisely.”

When the time is right, you make your way to the site, going up a ladder.

“It’s okay, Wrecker. Don’t look down, just like Skako Minor.” You glance down at the man and he nods.

“You say that like it’s easy, Y/N.”

You all enter the facility and huddle together.

“Wrecker, cover us up top.”

“But being the lookout was Crosshair’s job.”

“That’s why Y/N is going with you.” Hunter nods at you.

“Sounds good to me… C’mon big guy, let's get up there.”

--

This really could be going better. You dodge a few shots from the police droids, firing something back.

“Wrecker, Y/N. Get to the main control panel.” Echo’s voice comes through the comms

You and the man run up but stop when you reach the panel… on the other side of a river of molten droid parts. Lovely. Crosshair would’ve loved this.

“Echo, we can’t reach the platform. Unless you want us to fall into a molten river.”

“It’s the only way to reboot the whole facility. Figure it out!”

Wrecker looks at you, “That’s easy for you to say.” The man paces erratically and grips his head.

“Wrecker, we need to hurry. You can do this.” You stop the man and hold his shoulders. “I’ll cover you.”

The man groans and mumbles to himself.

“Wrecker, what are you waiting for?”

“Wrecker, you need to hurry!” A blaster shot flies over your head, and more police droids surround you both.

Wrecker jumps to a claw and swings to the platform, hitting his head in the process.

“Wrecker! Get the system online, we’re running out of time!” Police droids gather together, converging on your position. The man flips the switch before collapsing.

“Wrecker!” You fire off a few rounds and use the claw to get to the platform. “C’mon Wrecker! We gotta get out of here!”

You grab Wreckers blaster and fire at the closer droids. “Dammit, Wrecker!”

“H-Hunter, Y/N… I’m stuck on the conveyor. I need help.”

“I’m surrounded by police droids and Wrecker is incapacitated at the moment. Hunter?”

“I’ll get Omega. Just get down here as soon as you can.”

You fire off more rounds, then kneel down. “Wrecker… Wrecker! You couldn’t have hit your head that hard. C’mon.” You push his shoulder.

More droids converge and you move around the platform. Wrecker mumbles but you can’t make out anything. Good soldiers follow orders.

--

Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers...good soldiers.

“CT-9904? A moment?” Rampart approached the grey-haired man, who placed a toothpick between his lips.

“Sir.”

“I believe we have gotten off on the wrong… foot.” Rampart stands, looking out the window. “You see, Private L/N and her skills will be very useful for my current project. I understand that your relationship with the soldier-”

Crosshair shoves the man against the window, holding the sharpened point of his toothpick at Rampart’s neck. “I am holding this right over your carotid artery. If I slip just enough, you will bleed out in minutes, possibly less. Now I don’t know who you think I was to that woman, but if you keep pushing it...” Crosshair presses his toothpick harder. “...then I suggest you watch your back.” Crosshair lets go of his collar and Rampart falls to the floor, gripping his neck. “Oh and Admiral. If you tell anyone about this, I’ll still have enough time to find you.” The sniper narrows his eyes and disappears down the hallway.

--

“Y/N, Wrecker, get down here now!”

“I’m working on it, Echo! Wrecker’s still-”

“We’re on our way.” The man grabs his weapon from you and nudges your shoulder.

“Oh, so glad you could join us! How was your beauty sleep?” You punch his shoulder. “We need to get to the others.”

The man walks up to a chain and crouches down. “You remember that mission on Tatooine?”

“How could I ever forget?” You smile and get up on Wrecker’s shoulders. “Let’s do some damage.”

Wrecker jumps down the chain, the two of you firing off. “Sorry, we took so long!”

“We got tired of you guys having all the fun!” Wrecker lands with you still on his shoulders. You hop off and start covering the rest of the group.

“Y/N!” Omega runs up next to you, a few smudges on her face.

“Omega! You got a little something on your cheek, nothing a rag and water can’t take care of.” You pat her on the head for a moment before returning more fire.

A moment later, old battle droids begin to stand up and fire on the police droids.

“Well, that’s new… I take it, that’s our cue to get the hell out of here.”

Tech runs next to you, “Yes, it is indeed.”

“Good shot, Omega!”

“Thank you! You and Echo were right about those distractions.”

“We’ve dealt with this our whole lives, you learn to forget about them over time.” You kneel behind her and provide cover. “Let’s get going… I’m starving.”

“You and me both!” Wrecker runs past you, knocking the remaining droids to the ground.

--

“Trace, right?”

“Yes! And you’re Y/N.” The girl smiles at you.

You place your hand on her shoulder. “Thank you for going back to Omega.”

“She’s a good kid… And a good shot.” Trace chuckles.

“Well, she’s getting there…”

“Y/N! Let’s go! I thought you were starving!” Omega sticks her head out of the ship, waving her arms.

“Okay, jeez. I’m coming!” You wave to the sisters and run to the ship, sitting in the cockpit. Omega comes up and tugs on your arm. “Y/N… Uhm, can you help me train for a bit?”

“Yeah sure, but no target practice. Let’s do strength instead! Then you need to rest, you’ve had a big day.”

“Okay! Now c’mon let’s go!” The girl grabs your hand and drags you to the back.

--

Crosshair stood in the shower, staring at his necklace. He hadn’t moved in minutes, just letting the water run down his body. He was thinking… about everything. Sleep is unknown to him, his brain won’t shut up. He won’t shut up.

You should’ve gone back for her. You should’ve killed her. I love her. No, you don’t. What do you know...You’re not me. I love Y/N, and I always will, I promised her. Ha, with what? That stupid necklace, that ring? You tried to kill her and you think she still loves you? You betrayed everything you promised. You don’t know Y/N like I do. She knows, they all do. She saw me that day, she knows that I’m still here. And she knows you’re here too. She’s not stupid. Oh, I’m sure. Just shut up and let me sleep, please. Hm, I’ll think about it. No, I don’t think I will.

--

“Y/N? Why are you up?” Tech walks into the cockpit, devoid of his eyewear.

“I- couldn’t sleep. Haven’t been since…”

“Since the day we left Kamino… Am I correct?”

“Yes… It’s so odd. It’s like I can feel him.”

“Crosshair?”

“Yes, it’s like I can feel his presence. Like when someone stands behind you, but you can feel them there before they speak. And I keep thinking I hear him, and I see things. Like nightmares...horrible nightmares.” Tears gather in your eyes and they fall down your cheeks. “I- I must be losing my mind, right?”

Tech places his hand on your shoulder and kneels in front of you. “Y/N, you are most definitely not going crazy. But what you’re experiencing does sound very strange. I know how much this… has affected you and I don’t- I don’t have all the answers. I do wish I did, but circumstances have prevented me from fully dedicating-”

“Tech, you’re rambling again.” You put your hand on his shoulder. “I know you are doing everything you can, and you have a great assistant.”

The man chuckles, “Apologies. Yes, Omega is a very nice assistant. She is quite intelligent.” Tech stands up and yawns, “I believe some sleep is necessary, for both of us.”

“I’ll go in a moment, I promise.”

“Very well, I would hate to drag you back.” Tech nods before heading back to his room.

You turn your head, looking out into hyperspace. Crosshair… I don’t know if you can hear me. I was looking at the stars… I miss you. Maybe you’re looking at the stars too if you can even see them, but I hope you are. They look so pretty tonight.

--

Crosshair turned his head to the window, looking through the clouds of Kamino. He finds a small opening in the clouds, revealing a dark, clear sky above. I found the stars… You’re right. They do look pretty….

I love you, Y/N.

… I love you, Crosshair.

[opalai-pixel-witch]

Hello, after almost a year :,D

I will tell you briefly how my life was

I did a job, I sent it and they liked it, but I had to correct it (which delayed me a lot), apart from doing other things, like a report where practically all the elements of the job are and a web page (I haven’t done one in a long time, so it was like starting from -10 :,)

Another thing that happened is I distanced myself a bit from the PP fandom, not because there was something wrong with it, but because there wasn’t official new material for a long time and I ended up looking at other things like Marvel, which practically releases daily material or, at less, monthly I got obsessed with the Watchers of Marvel (I don’t know why but I love them XD)

And I’ve been drawing them ever since together with a little music alien band called Area21 (I seem to like aliens and weird things ^^; )

And I’m writing to you from this Tumblr because I finally feel safe about the identity of this one (apart from the fact I was able to solve some problems it had ^^; ) And if I organize myself better, I’ll try to post all drawings I made of PP games ;)

The PP fandom came back to life, at least in the Discord, and the drawings are being published are prompting me to draw the characters again XD

I’m trying to draw them, but I still have my work and I have to do other things, and starting new things with this project is very hard for me :,D

By the way, I was surprised you mentioned the drawing style issue, I never considered I had a style, but it seems that I do XD

Ah! And I was looking at your drawings and it’s great to see your progress, especially in digital drawing, keep it up! :D

((I’ll be sending you other messages responding to the last ones I don’t answer you at the time, I hope I’m not bothering you 👉👈))

--------

Hello again!! It’s very lovely to hear from you (^^)/

I totally understand, real life has gotten busier for me too—long story short, contemporary math (and pretty much just math in general) is a nightmare =~=;;  Be sure to take care of yourself and not push yourself too hard!!

I can definitely understand that too ;v; I’ve recently gotten into the Jackbox fandom (as I’m sure you’ve noticed with the flood of Jackbox drawings I’ve made |D) and lately those two interests have been fighting for control of my brain :P I think the issue is fandoms can fall asleep sometimes, and then out of nowhere they can just wake up again, as the PP fandom has with the upcoming new game >o>

But even if we’re not active in something it doesn’t mean we love it any less ^_^

Also welcome to Tumblr!! I hope you have a good time here, this site can be kind of a mess at times :P It’s definitely been exciting to see the PP fandom up and running again, and I’m very much looking forward to their new game ^o^

I look forward to the art you make of them!! Just make sure to do things at your own pace and go easy on yourself ;v;

My apologies, I hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable saying that ^_^;; I just think that having a distinct art style is super cool and I thought I’d mention it

Thank you so much! ^o^ I’m really happy you like my digital stuff, I have to admit that I’ve been kinda addicted to doing tablet drawings lately |D

(You never have to worry about bothering me, I’m always glad to hear from you!!)

[authorialarcanist]

It Seems I'll Never Understand (Kagerou Project)

Genre: Angst

Rating: Mature

Pairing(s): Tateyama Ayano x Kisaragi Shintaro

Summary: "...Hey, Shintaro. Why'd you do it? I mean... You could have stayed out of it. It wasn't your fight."

In a world where Shintaro Kisaragi was the one who killed himself on that fateful august day two years prior, Ayano isn't sure what she can do with her life. Living in fear of the Snake of Clearing Eyes, all she can do is think back on the past, and wonder - why it was that her best friend took her place when she's sure he must have hated her, and when was it that it all went wrong.

Shinaya roleswap with a focus on making it work with as few changes to canon as possible.

---

It’s late - late enough that it’s gotten truly dark out. I’m walking along the road to my home, a boy next to me. The bridge we’re crossing seems to stretch out endlessly into the distance, illuminated only by the moon and the street-lamps we’re passing by.

I fiddle with my scarf absentmindedly as I steal a glance at his face. I’m so glad… I was finally able to become friends with him. Or, well… maybe ‘friends’ isn’t the right word just yet. To him, I’m sure I’m still just that stupid girl who made him tutor her for hours after class.

Still… I tell myself that this is the most important first step. Mm-hm. Now that I’ve introduced myself, I’m sure that we’ll be friends - real friends - in no time at all.

“You really saved my life! I never would’ve been able to finish that problem set on my own.” I grin weakly as my babbling inevitably turns to self-deprecation. Ah, well… after my terrible performance back there, trying to act cool for my new friend was a lost cause already. Well, if this was a manga, at least this might be the part where the aloof genius breaks character to reassure me that I can do it?

“Even with my help, it took you way too long…” He sighs. “Geez. I only came here to get my wallet, too. I must be really unlucky.”

—Yeah, right. I’ve only known this guy for a few hours now, but it’s pretty obvious that tender support isn’t his strong suit.

“I really am sorry…” I shrink a little under his criticism. “But! I promise, I won’t forget about today!”

“What are you saying? Didn’t you just say you forget things no matter how much you study?” Ow… I guess I did say that, but… he really has no faith in me at all, huh?

But he just doesn’t get it! Not quite panicking, I redouble my efforts to explain myself. “Today’s special! I’m going to try extra hard not to forget, so it’ll be okay!”

He hums in contemplation and stares away into the distance. And then—

—“Liar.”

I recoil from the sudden accusation. “Huh? What are you talking about?”

“You’ve broken your promise already, haven’t you? You can’t even remember my name.”

He picks up his pace, and though I try to follow, I can’t seem to move forward.

“Huh? Of course I can!”

“Really? Then why haven’t you said it?”

“Why are you so focused on that all of a sudden?”

“Say it, Ayano.”

“Stop it!”

“Say my name.”

“I— You’re—“ Tears spill from my eyes. I’m trying to say it. Why — why is this happening? Why couldn’t we just keep walking together, chatting about nothing important, like friends do?

“…Yeah. I thought so.” He stops walking, and for some reason, I freeze as well. I have no choice but to watch his back as he speaks. “I guess it’s not your fault, though. Sorry.” He shakes his head. “But… Try to remember, okay?”

He turns to face me again.

His eyes are red.

“If you can’t remember soon, then—“

——

Knock. Knock. Knock. Three hesitant raps on my door.

The sound wakes me from my dream. Already, it’s growing too hazy to remember. All I can say for certain is that hewas there.

He’s always there in my dreams. Maybe it’s some cruel balance for the fact that he’ll never be there again in real life.

“Ayano?”

At the sound of the voice calling for me, I turn over in my bed and bury my face in my pillow, trying not to make any sound to indicate that I’m awake.

“Ayano, please, I know you’re in there. I just want to talk.”

I don’t respond. My father is dead. That’s the best way to think of it. The safest way to think of it. Even when the snake lets him out, it’s only in the hopes of getting me to snap.

“Ayano, I’m sorry. I know I haven’t been the best father to you, since your mother died. But please, I just want to know what happened. What happened to Shuuya and Tsubomi and Kousuke. Why you won’t talk to me. Ayano, please.”

My hands clench against the pillow. I force myself to breathe. In. Out. In. Out.

“Ayano…”

In.

Out.

“…Just… think about it, okay? I’m here, if you’re ever ready to talk. Even if you need another two years, I’ll still be here.”

A lie. Dad won’t be here. Just the snake.

“…I love you.”

I stay silent, waiting until the sound of footsteps fades from my hearing. No matter how many times I go through this, it never gets any easier. But… I can’t talk to him.

Even if the snake wasn’t privy to his every thought, I can’t bring myself to speak with the man who sold my world.

“…Is… he gone?” A tinny voice whispers from my computer’s speaker.

I listen for a moment. When nothing happens, I nod. “Yeah.”

My computer monitor lights up as it exits sleep mode, and a girl in blue peeks out from her hiding place behind a browser window. “…I still don’t understand why you don’t leave here, Ayano-chan…”

I shake my head. “I… I just can’t. I’m sorry, Ene.” Ene… that’s what this girl calls herself. About a year ago, she popped out of an email and decided to stick around. She tried to put on this sassy, hyper front at first, but it fell apart pretty quickly.

I’m pretty sure I know who she really is, after all. And she knows I know. I just haven’t been cruel enough to push the topic.

It’s not like she has much of anywhere else to go, after all.

“…Okay. I get it.” She looks down at the taskbar and pokes her index fingers together. “Just… hang in there, okay, Ayano-chan? Do your best.”

“Like my best has ever mattered,” I mumble, and sit down at my computer chair. To be honest, my activities since dropping out of school two years ago have been nothing, nothing, and a heaping dessert of nothing. It’s not like I have any sort of online life to speak of, even. It’s just that… ultimately, there’s nothing else to do when I’m living under the same roof as my father. I can’t risk going outside at the wrong time and having to face him. At least he respects the boundaries of my room; and the snake finds it convenient to leave me a sanctuary under his supervision for as long as he doesn’t have any need of me.

“…So, um… Ayano-chan?” Ene glances up at me, a little shyly. “Can I ask about whether…”

Ah. That. I shake my head. “…I’m sorry. I’ve tried talking to him while my father was away, but Konoha really doesn’t seem to remember anything about us.” Konoha… the white-haired boy the Clearing Eyes took in really is just another reminder of my failures. Still, I know that’s not hisfault, and I can’t really blame Ene for being too scared to check up on him herself. Talking to him hurts badly enough for me, and I still hadn’t been quite as close to Haruka as she was. Honestly though, whenever I’d felt safe enough to slip out and check on him, Konoha had seemed pretty nonresponsive. Forget remembering me and Ene; he didn’t seem to remember anything, not even basic things like rain.

“I see…” Ene droops. This happens every time she brings up Konoha; as much as she’s tried to be around for me, I don’t have the first idea how to comfort her when this topic comes up.

Well, honestly, I don’t think I’m in a place to be comforting much of anyone. Back when I tried all those years ago, it only ended in pain.

In the end, I go with the tried and true method of pretending I didn’t see anything. When there’s nothing you can do, acknowledging the problem only ends in more tears, after all. I pass the day mindlessly browsing the web and making more paper cranes for the army that chokes every available surface in my room. Occasionally, I can’t help but fantasize about what things might be like if I had Paper-Animating Eyes. Sending an army of little origami birds to get revenge on the Clearing Eyes… it’d definitely be a more efficient way of getting a wish granted.

Ah well.

At least my father has work during the day and the snake has better things to do than waste time in this lonely house during the nighttime, so I’m able to check on Konoha and grab something from the kitchen for lunch on most days. That’s particularly important, because dinner can be much more spotty, depending on whether my father is in a “bury his problems in work” mood or a “try desperately to be present to make up for selling his soul to an evil snake” one. Well, okay, I really don’t know how much he’s able to retain about what the Clearing Eyes does when in control of his body, but if he really is oblivious about everything that might actually be worse.

Unfortunately he seems to be in a “try to atone” cycle right now, so I’m running off of a single meal when the knocks return once again.

“Ayano.”

Ene hides behind the browser window again, and I click off of the tab showing a video of a mongoose taking down a snake.

…What? Look, I have to deal with the spite somehow.

“I know you’re in there.”

I stay silent.

“I’ve got another mission for you, Ayano. You know the deal by now.”

I freeze. This isn’t dad.

“I trust I don’t need to spell it out for you?”

It’s the other one.

“I’m waiting.Or is this some pathetic attempt at rebellion? If so, I have to applaud. It’s the most pointless one yet.”

I finally find my voice. “I-I understand.”

“Heh. Good.” The snake chuckles. “Two children are coming to stay in this house soon. Your father’s sister-in-law, and some hanger-on. When they’re here, you’re going to be the model of a big sister, understand? Get them to trust you, and then make sure they’re in a certain place on August fifteenth.”

I shrink in on myself. Children? Please, no…

“I said, understand?You know what’ll happen to your family if you refuse…”

“N-no!” I shoot to my feet in panic. “No… I understand…”

“Good.” What should be my father’s voice drips with malice. “See? Wasn’t that easy? Goodbye, Ayano.” Saying the last two words in an odd sing-song voice, the snake leaves. I collapse back into my chair, hugging myself.

“A-ayano-chan…” Ene peeks back out from her hiding spot.

I turn to her with wide eyes.

“Ayano-chan, you don’t have to do this. Please, we can fight back. I’ll help you.”

…If only. But no, I know it’s hopeless.

I can’t fight the snake. All I can do is delay the inevitable.

I shake my head, and start disconnecting the speakers from my computer. If Ene tried to do something brave, and the Clearing Eyes found out…

“…Ayano, please…”

I pull the plug on my monitor. Ene may still have access to the inside of my computer, but the most she’ll be able to do in the house is open and close the CD drive.

“…sorry…” I whisper quietly to myself, even though I know she can’t hear me.

God, how did things turn out this way?

——

I have many precious memories, moments I’ve spent these past two years trying desperately not to forget. Reading storybooks at bedtime with my mom. Meeting my little siblings for the first time. The way my dad’s face used to look when he’d play with us, long before everything happened.

If you were to look through those treasured days, flipping from one to another as though they were files secreted away in a lockbox, one might still stand out from the rest. Perhaps it’s laminated, or hidden behind a false back. Not because it’s more precious than the others - I wouldn’t trade my family for anything - but because it’s unique nonetheless. A moment elevated in its rarity, and in the pain it brings me - not the dull ache of my mom’s face, nor the stabbing betrayal of my father’s failures and mine, but a gaping void of ‘what if’s.

The first time I ever got to see Shintaro smile.

It was during our second year of middle school, a couple months after the day I finally introduced myself. The last test I’d gotten back had been my lowest score yet, and with exams rushing to meet me, I was honestly in a panic.

But then, Shintaro’d spoken up. For the very first time, he gave me a totally unprompted offer to help me study.

“Thank you so much,” I’d sobbed. “I don’t know what I was gonna do…”

“Ugh, don’t be annoying about it!” He’d refused to meet my eyes as he grumbled. “I just know that if you failed your exams I’d somehow get dragged into helping you catch back up. It’s just easier to get this over with this early, alright?”

Whatever his stated reasons, I still felt like I’d been saved when he stuck around to help me pound the latest lessons into my skull. And I don’t know if we finished faster than usual, if something good had happened to him at home, or if his guard was just down that day for some other reason, but one way or another, he decided to stick around and chat for a bit afterwards.

I can still picture it clearly. That sunny classroom, me perched on my desk to bask in the light from the window, him leaning his chair back as we killed time… and the glint of light that drew my eye to the spine of a book just peeking out of his bag.

“Hm? Hey, Shintaro?”

“What?” He glanced lazily back at me.

I tilted my head to read what I could from the spine. It rung a bell; I’d overheard some of the other girls in our class talking about it from time to time. “Isn’t that ‘Let’s Fall In Love’?”

“HUH?” I winced at the sudden crash as Shintaro lost his balance and fell in a heap.

“Ah! Are you okay? I’m sorry!” I rushed to help him up, but he just scrambled back until he was pressed against the wall.

“W-w-w-what are you talking about? I-I don’t, I mean, that’s not—“ Shintaro grabbed suddenly for his bag, but his hand missed its mark and sent the contents spilling out as it toppled over instead. The book landed face up, its cover proudly displaying a drawing of a boy and a girl standing together in a very shoujo-esque artstyle. Emblazoned above the picture was ‘Let’s Fall in Love ~ by Yumeno Sakiko.’

“Umm…”

“I mean! It’s Momo’s! Yeah! My little sister wouldn’t stop pestering me, so I picked up her copy for her, uh-huh! I definitely don’t read shoujo manga!” His stuttering picked up pace as he scrambled for excuses, and I couldn’t help it - some part of me kinda wanted to watch him squirm for a little longer.

So, I grinned slyly and searched my memory of my classmates’ conversations. “Uh-huh? You know, with how Mamiko and Oze were talking in the latest chapter, don’t you think there might be a chance they’ll—“

“THAT’S HERESY!” Shintaro slammed his hands down on the ground, and I winced at the sudden spike in volume. “Mamiko and Suzuki are meantto be together!” He clenched his fist and held it to his chest. “I can’t imagine how anyone would think otherwise after that moment in volume 7! And anyways, Oze and Waka may be having a fight right now, but everyone… knows…” He trailed off as my control failed me and I started to giggle. “…Fine. You caught me. Happy now?”

At the sight of him forcing down a pout and struggling to regain a serious expression, I laughed even harder.

“…So I like shoujo manga. Is it really that funny to you?”

“No, no! I’m sorry!” I did my best to get myself under control. “It’s not that, honestly. You just looked so earnest, and then you kept trying to hide it… If reading that sort of thing makes you happy, then I think that’s a goodthing! It’s actually kinda c—“ I suddenly realized what I was about to say, and blushed heavily. “—I mean, it’s kinda cool! Yeah! You shouldn’t worry what other people will think about your interests, you know?” Oh yeah, that was an absolutely stellarsave, Ayano. Absolutely nobody was gonna suspect that you almost called your classmate ‘cute’ without thinking. Aside from, I dunno, people with eyes.

Thankfully, all of that intelligence must have come out of Shintaro’s perceptiveness instead, because he let it pass without comment. “So…” Shintaro seemed to be looking anywhere in the room other than my face, which might have helped the whole ‘not noticing my face doing a bonfire impression’ thing. “Do… you also read it, then?”

“Huh?”

“Y, you know! ‘Let’s Fall in Love’!”

“A, ah! Right!” I snapped out of my thoughts. Right, let’s just pretend that slip never happened for now, and I can unpack whatever the heck it meant on my own time, when I won’t make my one school friend think I’m even more of a weirdo than he already does. “Ehehe… Not really, actually.” I scratched the back of my head and grinned sheepishly. “I was just parroting something I overheard. I’m more into the shounen stuff, you know? Hot-blooded super sentai fighting to save the world, and all that.”

“Really? But they’re so formulaic. You can see everything coming from a mile away. And how do those guys get through posing dressed like that and not die of embarrassment?”

Well, I couldn’t just sit there and take that. “What? Hold on a moment, like your mushy stuff is any better! Aren’t they all just ‘boy meets girl, cue nothing happening for the rest of their school lives’?”

“Wh— they are not!There’s nuanceand relationship growth and everything!” Woah. Shintaro was looking about the most fired up I’d ever seen him! At that thought, an idea clicked in my head.

“Hmm… Alright, then!” I grinned at him and gave a sharply enunciated chuckle, heh-heh-heh. “Why don’t you tell me more about this series, and if you manage to change my mind I’ll give reading it a try? And then, in return, you’ll watch an episode of Engine Sentai Go-Onger with me, and we’ll see how you feel about heroes after that!”

Shintaro rose to the challenge. “Fine! Come on then, I’ll teach you about why Yumeno-sensei is a master! I mean, her portrayal of Mamiko’s inner struggles alone touches the heart, even for a boy like me! There’s this moment in chapter 12 when she…” He lit up as he talked, gesturing wildly with the plot points. I’m a little ashamed to say that I actually stopped paying attention after a few moments, because my focus suddenly seemed drawn to his face. He was grinning - actually grinning, the first genuine smile I’d seen from him in, well, ever- as he opened up about his interest.

I can only remember thinking two things as we walked home that day.

The first was, ‘What a pretty smile.’

The second was, ‘…oh. Crap.’

…So, yeah. It looked like I maybe had a teeny little crush. That was okay! It was fine! It meant I was finally starting to grow up, right? Anyways, whatever Shintaro’s romance manga said, I was pretty sure that people were supposed to get a lot of those with time. They didn’t have to mean anything, or, y’know, gamble their only real non-family friendships on the chance that someone who was really smart and cute would still want to hang out with a dumb girl they barely tolerated helping out if she asked.

Not a problem! I’d just go about my life as normal, and it’d fade in time. Eventually, I’d probably look back on this day and laugh.

…And if in the meantime, I wanted to see him smiling like that again? Well, that could be my little secret.

——

Of course, let nobody accuse me of being a good planner. Obviously, the darn thing only seemed to get stronger with time. Wanting to see Shintaro smile because I wanted him to be happy slowly morphed into wanting to be the reasonhe was smiling like that. Hoping that maybe, if I could be the one to make this lonely boy smile, that’d mean I was actually worth somethingreally the hero I pretended to be.

Mom died, and I had to be the strength for the whole family as dad seemed like half his world had gone missing, but no matter how much I needed comfort of my own, I wasn’t ready to tell him.

We met Takane and Haruka, and one friend turned into three, but even though I’d only be gambling 33% instead of 100, I was still too scared to tell him.

And then I found out that dad had changed, what the thing in his body had planned for Haruka and Takane and my siblings, and suddenly my stupid little feelings didn’t seem so important. I had to research the read eyes, and I needed Shuuya to cover for me, and in the end I didn’t have the attention to spare for my friend my crush my…

…for Shintaro. Maybe that’s why I didn’t notice our growing distant. Why I didn’t notice things growing strained.

Why I didn’t notice that I really was just burdening him with my own expectations.

Didn’t notice until a hill at sunset, a hand snatched away, his back receding into the distance while I stood alone.

After that, I wondered about a lot of things. How much had been genuine, and how much really had just been putting up with me. How much of my motives had been pure, and how much had been that dark little thrill of seeing him down and feeling like I was still needed.

How cruel it must have been, to plan what I was planning and still try to hold onto his hand until the last minute.

So I didn’t try again. I delegated as much school time as I could to Shuuya (and carefully didn’t wonder why his face was growing more stressed, why his own time seemed to draw thin.) I withdrew further, and dedicated everything I had to my lonely mission. August fifteenth came all too soon at last, and I shoved my responsibilities onto Takane, told her to be honest with her feelings even as I swore that my own were better ignored. I wrapped my scarf around my neck, the colour of a hero, I steeled myself and turned to mount the stairs, and I was interrupted.

“Shuuya? What are you doing?” My little brother had arrived in front of me, hands on his knees as he gasped for breath.

“N, neechan, please!” Panting, Shuuya raised his eyes to meet mine. They glistened with tears. “You have to— you have to stop Shintaro-kun! He’s about to do something really stupid!”

“Huh?” I was taken aback. “What are you talking about?”

“He’s already gone to the roof! I couldn’t do anything! Neechan, please!”

“The roof?” I still didn’t understand, but I burst into a run anyways, leaving my brother behind. Why was Shintaro even here today, when he didn’t need summer school? Why did Shuuya know about it? What could he be doing on the roof, other than…?

He wasn’t involved. God, please, he wasn’t involved, why was he here?

I took the steps two at a time, ignoring the pain shooting through my lungs, and had no choice but to stop for breath and lean against the wall for a moment when I finally reached the door leading outside.

My father’s voice filtered in from outside. No - not my father. The thingwearing his skin. “Honestly, kid.” He sounded mildly exasperated, like my dad did whenever a student had turned in a particularly baffling answer on a quiz. “You think that you’re gonna be the big damn hero? You really think there’s a single thing you can do here to beat me?”

“No.” Shintaro, this time. “Honestly, it’s a stupid plan. Totally useless in every way. But hey.” A dark chuckle. “Objectively speaking, the life of a rotten boy like me is just worthless enough to make it worth trying.”

I’d finally caught my breath, but at that it caught in my throat. Did he mean—

I burst through the door, screaming, “Shintaro, NO!” The roof was empty except for two people. My father, standing on solid ground looking mildly vexed. And Shintaro, clad in that red jersey I’d said I liked, the color of a hero, sitting perched half-on the fence around the edge of the roof and half dangling over open air.

His eyes met mine, and no matter how hard I try I know I’ll never forget the way his face clouded over, the way his eyes darkened, or the words he said to me at that moment.

“…Oh.

“Ayano.

“The very last person I wanted to see.”

His final curse delivered, he leaned back. The world distorted around him, horrible discordant red tearing open fangs in the sky.

And he fell.

I must have screamed, but it’s a blur. I just know that by the time I came to, I’d fallen on my knees, and the thing that took my father was laughing.

Laughing.

“Ha! You kids never fail to surprise me, you know that? I never once would have expected that depressing little thing to get up off his ass and do something like this!” He paused. “Well okay, I guess I would, but the part where he tried to stand up to me was still new.”

Before I even knew what I was doing, I’d jumped to my feet and was tackling him. “SHUT UP!”

“Whoops!” Somehow, my father’s body stepped out of the way before I could react. I found myself impacting concrete and rolling on the roof, scrapes all over my body where I’d fallen. “Come on, brat. You’re a big girl now, you should be used to hearing swear words by now. Or wait, are you angry about the boy?”

With a wordless scream, I threw myself at him again, but this time he casually stuck out a leg and tripped me.

“You might still have time to save him, you know. Throw yourself off the roof after him, and maybe you could convince him to come on out and bring me that snake he stole.” He sneered. “Of course, it’d mean making this whole little sacrifice play all for nothing. And this guy” he tapped the side of my father’s head, “might even willingly help me kill the brat if you did! Oh, now thatdespair would be delicious to see.”

I swallowed the pain as my fists clenched, scraped raw though they were. “…Shut up. You… you’re just trying to convince me because you know your plan’s finished. You can’t gather the snakes now. There’s no… no more reason to kill Takane and Haruka, or the others.”

*snrk.* The monster covered his mouth with a hand.

“What’s supposed to be so funny?”

“Ha! Oh, I’m sorry. It’s just… you think this kid managed to save your friends? Please.” He rolled his eyes. “He was too late. They’re already dead.” He shrugged and continued in a sing-song voice. “And anyways, the boy was a goner already. You should be thankingme; this way, at least he has a chanceof living for another year or two.”

“W…what…?” I slumped, the fight draining from my veins. No. It couldn’t be. Takane and Haruka… they were gone, too?

My “father” walked up to me and rested a hand on my shoulder. To anyone watching, it might have just looked like a father comforting his daughter; but I could feel his fingers dig into my flesh in a vice grip. “Still, working this all back out from the top is going to be a pain. And that’s not even counting all of the cleanup I have to do! It’s one thing for those other two kids; I’d made preparations for them. But spinning the sudden disappearance of this brat, too? No, that’s far too much work.” He crouched down until he was level with me, a too-wide smile on his face. A shiver ran down my spine. “So, Ayano.I’m going to have you do me a little favor, alright? And before you consider trying to do something brave, consider just who it is that has your family’s life in his hands, hmm? Don’t say anything; just nod.” I nodded, stricken. Everything I’d planned had come to nothing in a few short minutes. “You’re going to find Shuuya for me, and you’re going to have him go make himself look like this guy -“ he waved vaguely at the empty edge of the roof - “’s body for me. A suicide should be easy enough to explain away. Especially when the victim was as gloomy-looking as this asshole here. Honestly, people’re gonna think it was a miracle he lasted as long as he did.” My fists clenched again at relentless slander, but there was nothing I could do. I was totally and utterly defeated. “You got it, Ayano? Do this, and I’ll let the people you care about live a little longer.” He chuckled. “…Well, what’s left of them, at least. Hahahaha!”

How could I have ever thought I could be a hero? All I’d managed to do was arrive too late to save either of the snake’s intended victims, and drag a bystander to his death in the process.

In the end, tears streaming down my face, all I could do was nod.

——

“Neechan!” Shuuya rushed up to me the minute I exited the school. He grabbed my hands - I didn’t resist - and gasped at the scrapes all over them. “What happened to you? Where’s Shintaro-kun?”

“Shintaro— He’s—“ My voice caught.

“Nee…chan…?” I could see the exact moment Shuuya caught on. His eyes widened and his face fell, all in one motion. “Dammit! And just when the guy starts to convince me he’s not all bad, he has to go and do something like this…” His hands tightened involuntarily around mine, but I couldn’t even find the energy to wince.

I spoke in a flat voice, forcing myself to put one word in front of the next. “Shuuya. There’s something very important I need you to do.”

“Huh? What is it?”

“You need to use your power to turn into Shintaro. Let somebody discover ‘his’ body, so there’ll be a record. If you don’t, then… then he’ll…” My voice caught again, but I forced myself to continue before Shuuya could ask any questions. “And then there’s one more thing you need to do. I need you to take Tsubomi and Kousuke, and go away. Go somewhere far away from here, and don’t— don’t tell me anything about where you’re going. You can’t contact me at all, okay? I can’t have any way to find out more about you.”

“W—what?”

“It’s the only way that you’re going to be safe. I… we can’t stop the Clearing Eyes. He can have you all killed in a moment.”

Shuuya must have been able to see the seriousness in my eyes, because he didn’t try to debate the point. “Okay, but… Why can’t you come with us? We can all run, that’ll be safer!”

I just shook my head. “…No. He… he’ll find me, somehow. He knew how to respond to everything that I tried. Anything I do… no matter what, I’m sure he’ll…” I hugged myself and started slowly walking towards the path home. It was clear to me now. I was nothing more than a puppet dancing on the Clearing Eyes’ strings.

“W-wait, Neechan! Come back!”

“Goodbye, Shuuya. Please don’t forget to do what I told you. Consider it… My final request as your sister.”

“NEECHAN!”

——

“…Hey, Shintaro. Why’d you do it?”

I lie on my back, staring at the empty ceiling as I talk to the air.

“I mean… You could have stayed out of it. It wasn’t your fight.”

The cranes crowding every surface above me seem to swirl and distort, like a heat haze.

My head keeps playing his final moments on repeat. Even as the happy days grow dimmer and dimmer, I can’t seem to forget his last words no matter how hard I try.

‘The very last person I wanted to see.’

“If… if you hated me so much, why didn’t you just let me be the one to jump? Why take my place?”

I wonder… if I’d been the one to jump that day, would he have been able to do what I couldn’t? I indulge in a brief fantasy of Shintaro, red jacket flapping behind him, standing tall with my siblings as they face down the Clearing Eyes together.

…Somehow, I just can’t see it. Sorry, Shintaro.

‘The life of a rotten boy like me is worthless’

“…Did you hate yourselfthat much? Were you so sick of life that you grabbed the first excuse you could find?”

…Maybe. But… somehow, as much as he tried to shut the world out, I can’t help but see Shintaro as someone who was brimming with life underneath it all. At the very least, whenever he talked about his sister, he didn’t seem like he’d want to leave her.

The thought of Momo-chan makes me wince. Another memory, this time of her crying and screaming at me when I’d tried to comfort her.

When I’d broken down and sobbed that it was all my fault.

I can’t blame her for hating me. To be honest, I wonder if it wasn’t what I was secretly hoping for.

Just another case where Ayano’s self-satisfaction came before actually doing her job.

My alarm clock rings. I’d set it instead of my phone, to make sure Ene couldn’t try and be a hero. (I can’t help but hope that she’s given up on me, and found her way to somebody who’ll be a better friend.) It means that the children…

…my victims…

…should be arriving soon.

I push myself to my feet. In the end, even blaming myself is just pointless self-satisfaction. I’ve made the choice to play this role; I made the decision that these two children were worth less than the family I know and care about.

It doesn’t take too long to get myself presentable. I choose an outfit that looks like its owner hasn’t been in hiding for the last two years, and glance at my scarf, hanging wrinkled and dusty on a hook.

My hands shake.

And I turn away without touching it. I don’t deserve to wear that color.

Not when red is the color of blood.

“Sorry, Shintaro. Guess you made the wrong trade, in the end. Even a genius like you makes mistakes, huh?”

With that snide remark, I turn my back on his sacrifice and walk out into the house.

…Still, a thought flits across my mind.

—Ah, I would have liked to see that smile, just one more time.

The doorbell rings. It’s time.

I hide my feelings behind a smile, painting it from ear to ear.

And I open the front door.

[wordsnstuff]

Guide To Plot Development

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Where To Start

Start with the zero draft. Honestly, the only thing you need to know about your story in order to complete a solid zero draft is the basic timeline of events and 2-3 main characters. Zero drafts don’t need to include any minor characters, backstory, world building, subplots, anything. They’re just a rough estimate of what your story is going to be and where it’s going to go. 

This way, you have something to work with when you do approach the task of maturing your story, which is a lot easier to do when you have already gotten the garbage ideas onto paper, seen them, realized they’re bad, clipped out the good parts, and developed a better understanding of your story’s trajectory. 

Placing The Climax

The climax is two things; the apex of built tension and the turning point of the conflict. Recognizing that as a definition makes pin-pointing the climax of your story much easier, especially if you’re the kind of person who likes to start with a solid premise and work forward from there, rather than build a sturdy skeleton and fill in the blanks as you write the first draft. If you’re still having trouble, the climax is usually one of, if not the most exciting parts of the plot, and that comes from anticipating a massive shift in the story. 

Outlining For Discovery Writers

I know a lot of people out there will read this article and question whether they can put it to use because they’re not an intense plotter who relies on outlines, character sheets, etc. A lot of writers prefer to let characters grow on their own and the conflict present itself naturally, which is less predictable but very exciting, especially when brand new ideas hit you out of nowhere. If you’re one of these people, fear not. An easy way to settle the slight nervousness that comes with diving straight into a blank page is to write down all of the basic or specific ideas you have in one spot where you can see it all and as you go along, refer to it for inspiration or answers when you hit a snag in your story’s flow. It’s not exactly an outline, but it’s a lead, and it’s worth doing. 

Balancing Planning With Pantsing

A lot of writers who decide to take their stories seriously and commit to finishing a large project make the mistake of thinking that means they have to plan like a professional (which, spoiler, most professionals don’t do). What happens in these cases is that writers plan so meticulously for so long that the story becomes... boring. We all get kind of tired of stories when they take up too much of our imagination, but getting tired of a story before even a word of it is written should be avoided. 

I have a personal rule that I never give myself more than 6 weeks to plan a story. That seems like a lot to most people, but I also zero draft all of my stories before I plan them, so I never start a first draft with a blank page. I suggest that if you frequently run into this issue, you try this method and between each serious draft, you give yourself at least a month of space from it in order to refresh your mind. 

What Comes After Drafting

Foreshadowing, symbolism, subplot integration, and micro-development. These are all examples of things that writers try to plan before their first crack at a draft and end up betraying their ability follow through with writing the story at all. When it comes to complicating the story, these elements all come into the picture much later, when the main plot, character profiles, and structure is solid and ready to be finalized in the interest of moving forward in the writing process. When you’re plotting, shove these things out of your mind. You can’t input symbolism into a story that doesn’t exist, and you can’t develop characters that haven’t been born. 

Common Struggles

– The common struggles section of my “guide to__” posts are general questions sent in by readers on the topic at hand. If you have a question that has not been addressed thus far, you’ll probably find the answer in this section. As always, you’re welcome to send other questions to my inbox if you don’t find the answer in this post. –

~ How do I correctly pace a story?... The pace should depend on the genre and point of view, as these things are the framework of every plot. Generally, anticipation should be a slow burn and the big moments should be snappy and explosive, rather than drawn out. The exposition, climax, and resolution should take up the least amount of time in your story, and the rising action should be the majority of the rest of it.

~ What needs to be in your beginning, middle and end?... The answer to this question is answered when you choose a definitive structure model to either follow or build off of. I have a whole post about it here: Plot Structures

~ How can I know if I’ve resolved my major conflict enough?... The resolution of your story should leave the reader feeling satisfied with the protagonist’s overcoming their obstacle, but still leave enough room to anticipate more to come. 

~ How should the plot close?... This is entirely up to you, but I would take into account the possibility of a sequel. If it’s 100% a standalone story, give it a clean ending and tie up the loose ends, pat yourself on the back for all of the clever foreshadowing everyone missed, and leave the protagonists and beloved secondary characters’ futures looking bright. 

~ How do you write a plot around a theme?... Most stories that have a central theme are born from answering a tough question. George Orwell’s 1984 asked “What would the world look like if totalitarianism ruled society?”. Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451 dealt with censorship and questioned whether bliss only belongs to the ignorant. Bottom line is, pick the theme you want to explore, and then ask yourself the tough questions. The story should be the process by which you find the answer. 

~ What is the best way to handle a large cast within a plot?... You have your main conflict and the plotline that surrounds it, and then you have various subplots, around 2-3 where you explore the world/characters further and immerse the reader in the stories. You can convince the reader to become invested in a large number of characters by making them heavily involved in the subplots. They should all touch the main plot considerably, but the bulk of their development should be in the subplot, and if you were to have 15 characters, you’d want around 3 subplots where 3-5 of them were important players. However, large casts that reader’s have trouble keeping up with is a problem that usually results from a writer’s inability to make cuts or combinations. Remember: the reader’s experience is the most important thing. It’s better to downsize your ideas than lose your readers altogether. 

Other Resources From My Blog That Help With This:

What Do You Do When You Over-Plan?

Resources For Plot Development

How To Write A Good Plot Twist

How To Foreshadow

Writing Long Stories Without Filler

Writing Stories About Your Own Experiences

Novel Planning 101

Tackling Subplots

Things A Reader Needs From A Story

How To Turn A Good Idea Into A Good Story

Planning A Scene

When To Stop Planning

How To Outline Outside Chapter Structure

Tips on Mapping Out A Series

Outlining By Chapter

How To Outline Effectively

Tips On Starting A Scene

How To Start A Novel

Character Driven vs. Plot Driven Stories

Plot Structures

Planning A Scene In A Story

Effective Ways Of Planning Chapters

Writing Meaningful Stories

Finding Your Own Writing Style

How To Write A Story Timeline

Making A Story Come Together

Tips on Planning A Series

Coming Up With Scene Ideas

General Resources For Plot Development

How To Engage The Reader

Coming Up With “Original” Ideas

Building Upon A Good Premise

Pacing Appropriately

–

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MY CURRENT WORK IN PROGRESS (Check it out, it’s pretty cool. At least I think it is.)

[summonerscenarios]

Hello I was wondering if it would be okay if you can write headcanons on how Hephaestus, Kurogane, and Takemaru would react to body swapping with reader and since they're all hard muscle how would they feel about having a soft chubby body. Sorry if this is a weird ask I just think this fanfic trope is funny. By the way I want to say that like your work. You have such a way with words it's actually really impressive on how you can capture a scene. I hope I can be that good! 😊

sdfgghgfd time for some fun shenanigans to spice things up lmao. Thank you so much for the kind words! it really means a lot to know that I do an okay job with these lil ideas that you all take the time to come up with~! And I’ve got all the faith in you hun, I hope your writing endeavors go well~!

--------

Hephaestus

Hephaestus’ reaction to swapping bodies with you is probably what any child’s reaction would be to getting tossed into their parents body. Pure panic. He’s suddenly incredibly conscious of everything that’s going on as soon as he wakes up, and once he catches sight of ‘his’ hands, the realization that he is in fact not in his body hits him like a freight train. His shout of surprise is what jolts you awake as well, and at the sight of Heph’s own body standing up and looking around about as confused as he is, he just about wants to faint right there and then.

You’re perplexed about the sudden change of events, more surprised than anything about how strong this different body feels. Heph’s incredibly muscular, you can feel as much in his arms never mind the rest of his body, but with how meek and reserved he can be sometimes it’s easy to forget, so being in his body now is a reminder of just how tempered his body is. The first words out of your mouth are about how cool this is, as your hands squeeze your arms and pat down your new chest, thoroughly entertained by the hard muscle that you’re greeted with as you survey all the little details that come with Hephaestus’ body. You don’t think poor Heph could make your bodys face look any redder than it already is as he tries in vain to silence the praises, stammering over his words each time you voice out another detail about his body that you’d never noticed before.

One of the first actions that Hephaestus takes once things have calmed down (and he’s got you to stop messing around), is instructing Talos to take care of you and stay by your side the whole time that you’ve swapped bodies. However, that order soon becomes conflicting once he realizes that while you may be in his body, he’s in yours, so he’s either asking Talos to choose whether to watch over your body or your consciousness when both need protecting. The solution is an easy one however - so long as the two of you stick together Talos can take care of both, right?

If he had his way, Heph’s more than happy to hole the three of you in his workshop away from everyone else until you’re able to switch back into the correct bodies. You, on the other hand, are already halfway out of the door and striding up the stairs eager to test out some of the things you can do in this body. The flames take some getting used to - you’ve figured out that they flare up and ease down in response to your emotions, so with how excitable you are as you dip from room to room, you two end up with more than a few close calls with the fire as he chases behind you.

The Crafters, needless to say, get quite a shock at how lively ‘Heph’ seems to be as they spot the commotion. You don’t think to tell them what’s happened, instead excitedly greeting them with pats to the back and shoulder squeezes as you go, leaving them all slack jawed and trying to wrap their heads over what’s just happened. Thankfully, Talos at least lets them know what’s happened, as Hephaestus is too preoccupied trying to convince you to slow down (and failing miserably while he’s at it because you’d be damned if you didn’t at least try and test these muscles out).

Kurogane

All things considered, Kurogane takes the whole body swap issue in stride - it’s actually kind of amusing just how readily he accepts that this has actually happened once he comes to and realizes that he’s looking at his own body through your eyes. Maybe it’s because of how chill he is about it that you don’t find yourself panicking either, at least not at first; however the panic does set in a little later once you realize that you don’t have much of an idea about how you’re even going to switch back with him. That worry gets put on the backburner for now, namely because you’re quickly swept up in Kurogane’s excitement over the current predicament - if you have to wait to fix this, then what’s the harm in testing out everything that swapping bodies entails!

The first thing on either of your agendas is figuring out exactly how much of you swapped with one another - is it just physical appearances? Or did your powers swap over too? Your rule and role? Can you summon your sacred artifact while in his body and vice versa? Can you still feel everything from your original body? It becomes a rather entertaining science project, one that all too quickly devolves from a serious question to fun tests that get progressively sillier whenever one of you comes up with a new one. 

The other Crafters are confused seeing the pair of you running around together, but that’s only because in your rush, neither you nor Kurogane filled them in on the fact that you had swapped bodies. The ensuing conversations as each of the Crafters come to the realization that something’s amiss is a mixed barrel of reactions. Some of them take it in stride (Amatsumara); others have got more than few questions about what the hell you two got into this time (Takemaru and Tvastar); and others give none-too subtle warnings for Kurogane to take absolute care of your body while he’s in it to make sure you’re safe(Heph). 

Just because the pair of you have swapped bodies doesn’t mean Kurogane gets out of his usual tasks - you find that out when Amatsumara’s clapping a hand onto ‘your’ shoulder and steering you off to join in on his and Kurogane’s training. On the bright side, being in Kurogane’s body, you’re able to keep up a lot better than you thought you would. Bad side? In your body, Kurogane fares a lot worse than you do. It turns out his endurance didn’t cross over into your body, and by the time the two of you are about halfway through he’s leaning on the nearest solid surface, panting up a storm and nearly keeled over trying to catch his breath. You try not to laugh at how his overeagerness got the best of him, gently patting ‘his’ back as you assure him that, hey, at least he knows what your body’s limits are now!

Kurogane really doesn’t mind swapping bodies with you, though the loss of muscles does prove to have a couple setbacks, more than he anticipated - but he’s nothing if not adaptable! And it’s actually rather fun for him to find workarounds to some of his usual solutions for things! Plus it makes him think outside of the box, which to Kurogane is always important. You’ve got similar feelings about everything going on; once the initial shock wears off, having all of the extra muscle proves to be way more fun than you’d thought it would be. The only real thing that you have to be mindful of when it comes to Kurogane’s body is his arm - you can still feel everything through it, but at the same time you can distinctly recognize that it feels different. Fortunately, any time the limb needs maintenance Kurogane’s nearby to take care of it; watching him leaning over his arm, tinkering away with expert skill even in the new body, gives you a new kind of respect for just how much work goes into all the details that go into his craft.

Takemaru

Switching bodies with Takemaru was definitely an experience. For one, there wasn’t any kind of grand flare about it - no blaring noise or warning signal to let you know that something was going to happen. Instead, it was just a sudden flash of light, and in the next second you were coming back to a body that most definitely wasn’t your own. You’d taken a couple seconds to look yourself over, feeling ‘your’ face and running your hands through your hair only to be greeted by horns - if it wasn’t the body that gave it away, the horns definitely confirmed that this was Takemaru’s body. You hear Takemaru shout in surprise when he comes to too, and you don’t know what’s weirder - hearing your own voice, or watching as your own body stood up in front of you, looking up at you with a dawning horror that suggested Tak’s far less used to these kinds of situations than you are.

Takemaru’s absolutely baffled, even more so by how relaxed you’re taking all of this in - the carefree smile and relaxed demeanor coming from his own body makes the whole thing even more bizarre, and for a hot second he has to just stand there and let his brain catch up on everything that’s happening. He paces the room, rubbing circles into ‘his’ temples to alleviate the headache that he can feel coming on just trying to wrap his head around what was going on. Occasionally he looks over at you, as though to make sure that you are in fact in his body and this isn’t just some wild dream that’s gotten out of hand, and when he sees you waving nonchalantly back at him each time, you can practically see the cogs in his head overworking all over again.

Being in a body of pure muscle is, in all honesty, an entertaining change. The physique definitely takes some getting used to, but to top it all off you had a lot of Takemaru’s physical powers as well, namely the pure strength that he’s got both from being an oni and from years of hard manual labor that comes with being a carpenter. You’re living for this honestly, and you’re eager to test out all of the cool things you can do while you can. Carrying increasingly heavy objects, seeing if Tak’s carpentry skill carries over (he’s got the memory in his fingertips, but you’ve found that it, unfortunately, doesn’t carry over) are just a few of the things that you try. The horns are the only real problem you have - with the shape of them, it’s easy to forget about them until you’re squeezing through a narrow gap or ducking under something, only to get yanked back because they’ve gotten snagged on something. (It’s like getting your sleeve or earphones caught on a door handle, except having your head tugged back over and over again gets really damn annoying after a while.)

With Takemaru on the other hand, it’s a learning curve that takes a little getting used to. Your physique is still strong and you’ve got more than a bit of energy that makes him wonder if this is why you’re so energetic, but even with your abilities and strengths you’ve still got human limits, and he feels like your body is a lot more fragile than his is now that he’s actually living in it. The softness though is what really catches his attention while you’ve switched bodies - when he brings a hand up to ‘his’ cheeks, the skin beneath his fingers is soft to the touch and it’s...a surprisingly nice change. The lack of solid muscle on your body compared to his own makes him acutely aware of just how soft and squishy humans can be, and he admittedly gets caught up in feeling this new body that Tak doesn’t quite realize exactly whose body he’s touching. 

At least not until he hears you clear your throat and stick him with a pointed look, brow raised as you watch the realization dawn on his expression - you have to admit it’s funny watching your own face turning beet red as Tak practically chokes trying to explain that he wasn’t up to anything - he was just curious, he swears! Needless to say, you get a significantly bigger kick out of the body swap than Takemaru does, and he’s more than a little relieved once the two of you are actually able to switch back into the right bodies.

[jenivi7]

First Lines Tagging Meme

I'M SO HAPPY TO BE TAGGED IN THIS TWICE!  Thank you @ink-flavored and @clyde-side !! (I almost just did this on my own too because I love babbling about my own fics...)

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line.

Now pinned and under a cut because it became a really long, really good introduction to me and my stories! 

Hello!

Unnecessary and overly wordy introduction/personal musings: I love opening lines so much. When I worked at a bookstore, I used to open books and hardcore judge them on their first lines. I had barely any free time to read at that point so if it didn’t grab me in the first line or two, I put it back. The first Harry Potter book is actually in my pile of really good openers. “Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.” (Subtle alliteration, HELLO??) So I'm super excited to see if my own first lines come even close to the standards that I apply to other people lol. MY OWN MONEY IS ON NO. I have the feeling that I'm so frantic trying to get the story down on paper before the good words disappear from my head that I'm not actually paying attention to the first line. BUT LET'S SEE, SHALL WE.

So just straight up going backwards, I've written and posted TWO BRAND NEW THINGS after being away from fandom almost entirely for 10+ years! They're drabble length but they're shiny and new! <3 (All available fics are linked!)

1. Tango:

She teaches them to dance so that they can dance with her but when Atem gets that mischievous smirk on his face and pulls Yugi into his arms, their bodies spark and the dance floor smolders at their heels.

(The fic is so short that this is a full 1/5 of it but actually, I think I crammed all the good stuff right into that first line. This already might be my favorite. Like it says there in the line itself, Puzzleshipping.)

2. No Betting:

Anzu sat at the kitchen table writing carefully calculated answers onto sticky notes before attaching them to a fourth-grade math worksheet.

(Peachshipping! This one doesn't pop off until about line five so here's the rest of that bit:)

She had the same arrangement with her spouse as most parents had. When the kids were good they were hers. When they were bad, they were his. And when they were winning at games because they picked up rules with uncanny speed and read their opponents with more insight than ought to be available to a child, they were definitely, definitely his.

3. If you wanted honesty that's all you had to say (working title):

When he realized that the figure sitting under the game shop display window and smoking wasn’t Ryou, the physical body response was as though it had discovered a coiled snake not two feet away.

(This one! It's a NEW half finished(?) WIP. I actually started this one before the drabbles but wanted to finish before posting it. Then it got out of hand, then work got out of hand, then I started a couple more projects and well. I keep putting words on it though and eventually there will be a Kleptoshipper that turns into Puzzle and Tender for your reading enjoyment. Also, fair warning - don't use song lyrics as a working title. Every time I look at the document I get the song stuck in my head.)

Now we have polished up reposts of old stories for their move to AO3, where I'll basically keep my master archive. Not full re-writes but I fixed a bunch of typos and awkward sentences and they're much stronger for it. Most of these are from a pairings contest way back when so LOTS of different pairings and lots of AUs!

4. Human:

It was like a bad noir, the thought crossed both of their minds.

(Scifi AU, Rivalshipping. That one's not bad for a first line. Actually no link at the time of writing cause the re-edit is going up in like, a half hour? an hour? a half day? It's my next project after finishing this, finishing up the edit and posting it on AO3. Now with link!)

5. Blood:

Fingers through midnight black hair, whispers in his ear, touches that sizzled along the skin, awakening nerves and senses. 

(Dungeonshipping, Pegasus x Otogi, vampires AU. Oh that’s a nice first line! <3)

6. Crazy for You:

The keys are too large and too heavy for the doctor more used to more modern facilities but she doesn't say anything, just follows the orderly as he pulls the large door open.

(Manipulashipping, Anzu x Marik, Psychward AU. Still one of my favorites from that era. Big bold warning though, THIS ONE CONTAINS NON-CON)

7. Finality:

“What are you doing here?”

“Saying goodbye.” Bakura’s translucent arms swept across the graveyard. “Is this not an appropriate place for it?”

(First two or so bits of dialogue as the first first is a generic question. You can tell this is one of the really old ones just by that but it's a sweet, sad little Tendershipper that still has a special place in my heart.)

8. Pieces of You:

Glitter caught the light, leaving shimmering trails in the air as it got everywhere.

(Glittershipping, Anzu x Kisara. Another one that's special to me. Kisara is my girl and my first writing muse. <3)

9. Cambodia:

“It was summer of fifty three...”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute, it can't have been fifty three. You might be that ancient but I'm not. It must have been sixty three.”

(Jiishipping. Yes. Sugoroku x Arthur. HEY, IT CAME UP IN THE RANDOM DRAW FOR THE SHIPPING CONTEST OK. And my writer's brain hasn't backed down from a challenge yet... Another one that takes 4 lines to pop off but it's a good start. Actually, here's the rest of the bit just because I cannot get enough of these two bickering:)

“What do you mean it must have been sixty three? You don't even know what story I'm trying to tell.”

“Am I in it?”

“What?”

“So you're deaf now as well as daft? AM I IN IT?”

“Of course you're in it, y'old coot. Don't know why I'd tell a story without you in it when both grandkids are sitting here.”

10. Coffee and Cigarettes:

"Cigarettes and coffee? That's not a very healthy lunch." 

Mana crossed her legs and took a refined sip of her own coffee even as her company was not. 

(Mischiefshipping, Mana x Thief King Bakura. Oh this one I'm actually sad that it doesn't immediately sparkle in the first line cause it's one of my absolute favorites of everything I've written. And I think it's the only time I've ever written Mana but I LOVED IT AND HER. Oh no! I lied, I've written her at least one other time though I don't think that one quite captures her sheer chaos energy like this one does.)

11. A Million Missed Chances:

Somewhere along the line, someone made a choice.

(This one. THIS ONE. I think this is by far the most epic idea I've tackled. I still don't know if the sheer scale of the thing came across in the actual fic but in my head it was massive and I remember pounding away at my teeny tiny laptop late at night because the whole thing hit me maybe a day or so before the story was due for the pairings contest. We only had a week to write each fic and my really good ideas never came to me before the very last minute. T.T Conquestshipping, Mai x Valon.)

12. A Fear of Falling:

She drove.

Like she always did when something bothered her.

(Oh the first chapter on this is also one of the really ancient ones. Like one of the very first things I wrote. That first chapter really shows its age and is a little shaky but the others are better and the last one is what fits into the chorological order here. Polarshipping, Jou x Mai. One of my very first ships. Probably THE first actually <3)

13. What Our Creators Make Us:

"Well, well." The match flared, scattering dark shadows until it was blown out and the only light that remained was the red glow from the cigarette end. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

(Psychoshipping, Marik x Spirit of the Ring Bakura. With a bit of Bronze, Angst and Tender in the follow up. Old but I'm ridiculously proud of it, hence it's place in the master archive. Ahaha you can tell how old it is though by how clever I think I am. I thought it was funny to make my audience figure out who was talking and not reveal the characters for a good fourth to third of the fic. Ahhhhhhh. Sorry about past me.)

14. A Revolution of the Spirit:

It wasn't fair.  It just wasn't.

That they were close was understandable (you don't get much closer than sharing headspace) but that even now, after deals were made with gods, endless arguments, compromises and the ultimate guilt trip that he had only been a teenager when he willingly sacrificed himself for all of humanity, things she had only half seen and only partly understood even though they had all been there to witness, that even now Atem continued to invade Yugi's personal space as though he belonged there got on her nerves.

(Woah Nelly! That third sentence should probably be three, four and five. Even if I just split it in half we'd continue the pattern of things popping off in the fourth line. I think that's one pattern that's emerging! A really good bit takes me about four lines to set up and deliver! Oh, the challenge was Revolutionshipping, Anzu x Atem, but the fic is actually Spiritshipping, Anzu x Yugi x Atem.)

So confession time, I haven't been out of fandom completely, I just hadn't written my own standalone stories in a very long time. There are a few (ok ok more than a few) long-running rps that @miss-moberg and I have been adding to on and off over the years. I can't resist throwing in a couple of these.

15. Cafe!

The door shut behind them with the soft click of the latch and the exhale of a breath long held.

(This opening line was from December of 2020 when we rebooted a very old Prideshipper and that is a damn good opening line if I do say so myself. I can definitely see the difference now between the newer works and the older ones. I've gotten better, she's matched me pace for pace and eventually something will be finished, I'll work up the courage to ask permission to post it and the whole internet will get to see how brilliant the two of us are together.)

16. Treasure Hunt!

"Ryou, I think you're going to regret letting me tag along on your adventuring this time."  Yugi didn't bother turning away from the airplane's tiny window to see if his seatmate was paying attention.  He was more thinking out loud with his friend playing the role of a convenient sounding board.  "Because I think this trip is the only thing I'm going to talk about ever again."

(One more from RP because it's got that fun, four line punch that we've discovered is a pattern for me! Opening entry is from 2017.)

Also, in truth, my count is a little off when I say I'd been out of fandom 10+ years. I've been away from YGO for that long but I did spend a brief stint in Homestuck where I read a ton of fanfic, flirted with a couple group RPs and even wrote a tiny bit. 9 years without writing a new fic isn't as impressive as saying ‘over a decade’ but it is a little more accurate.

17. What You Will:

In the land of fair Illyria, along a small, sandy stretch of its rocky shore, a ship has come to ruin and one lone woman lies still as death among broken wood.

(The beginning of a Homestuck/Twelfth Night crossover that I'm still determined to work more on someday. It's only got a single chapter but it's magic though now I'm concerned about not being able to recapture that. Not a bad first line though. The style is so different it took me reading it a couple times before going, oh yeeeeeah, that's pretty good!)

18. Relentless:

You pull him to the deck and then across it by the remains of his shirt. Let him say one last goodbye. His ship pillaged, his crew murdered, his hands bound behind his back and at your mercy.

Funny word, that. Mercy.

(The first line is pretty decent but there's that four line combo again! Five but I could basically fix that with a comma. Featuring the troll ancestors Mindfang and Dualscar because every time Hussey introduced new characters they were instantly my favorite.) 

19. Black:

There is dark and there is dark and there is dark and then there is black. She is black. Licorice and coal. She is hate and resentment and everything that tastes bitter, the kind of black that coats the tongue like oil, drips down the back of the throat and keeps going.

(Oh wow. Am I allowed to say that about my own work? A Terezi/Vriska drabble that I'm putting as much here as I think I can get away with because it's so good that it fucks me up a little going back and reading it.)

And here it gets tricky because I think the more recent of the old, old fics are in the Drabbles and Shorts collection on ff.net and I can't see a post date. So I'll just pick a good one to end on.

20. Two Princes:

It was inevitable as the rising of Ra's chariot after a long night, as the flooding of the river banks every spring, and Atem always knew that Yugi's kiss would be as warm and gentle as the evening breeze in the summer that brought relief from the scorching day. It was.

(How about the final honor going to more Puzzle/Blind? This probably has the strongest first line of its era. Actually I'm not sure when it was written. It was just hanging out in my writing folder and, thinking about it, I probably wrote it when I was fading from fandom the first time around but still trying to hang in there. No wait! That’s too sad, we can’t end on that! Lets add one more to the list for the sake of personal narrative!)

21. Linger:

The world doesn't need him anymore. It doesn't need his sword and it doesn't need his pen.

(A tiny Princess Tutu afterward that I wrote for myself. Nice one-two punch in the opener. Also it rounds out the personal story that accidentally developed here with a line later in the fic, "Words, however, never stray far from a good writer..." Like, wait, stop. Past me, how did you know T.T)

Did that take a sudden emotional turn for anyone else or was that just me. Can I offset that a little with an honorable mention? Let’s do that while I collect myself. Here’s one more.

Honorable mention: Ryou and the Thief

There was a storm gathering and too much magic in the air. Much more than occurred naturally and magic at this level was never a good thing.

(I can’t have a list of things I’ve written without having Ryou and the Thief on it. If you click on this one though, BEWARE, it’s old, it’s silly and it has a ton of explicit gay sex that… would be written very differently if we were handling it today I’m sure! This is the first RP @miss-moberg and I ever did together and our excuse to Gemship and Puzzleship turned into us running the boys through a whole adventure based on the Osiris myth. It’s the longest thing I’ve ever completed and I’d still consider it kind of my legacy.)

And that’s the last 21(+1!) stories that I’ve written! 

The clear winner of best first line for me is 15. Cafe! It’s short, elegant and manages to contain a whole mood even without the context of what’s going on and who’s involved. (Spoilers: It’s Seto and Mokuba making an AU escape from Gozoboro.) Close second is Tango, the most recent story. It’s neat to see just how much better I’ve gotten and also really cool to see that even if the first line itself doesn’t contain a punch, it’s usually because there’s a nice, strong idea being set up and delivered in the first four lines (or so). What a pleasant surprise!

AND WOW, this whole tag thing didn't need to be so long! Or personal! Seriously, if you get this tag from me the challenge is only to list the first lines to 20 stories and maybe try to draw one or two conclusions from them. You all thought I was joking when I said I loved talking about my own writing! But actually, I guess it’s fine like this as I ended up using it as a way to re-introduce myself. Like, "Hey, I used to live here a long time ago and oh my god I love what you've done with the place!" Rather than being someone who's just popped up out of nowhere a few weeks ago to creepily bother all your best of the best creators so....

^///^ Hello!

Thanks for letting me ramble!

Tags! I think I've seen most of the authors I follow do this already but on the off chance you haven't been tagged yet: @elexica (checked your blog to see if you'd already done the tag and saw that you're another person returning to writing fanfiction after 10+ years. Same! Hello!!), @danieco, @draconicmaw, @nedjemetsenen (has someone tagged you already?) and two shots in the dark, @miss-moberg and @edmondia (I'm so sorry you two. T.T Please feel free to block me forever.) And please, anyone else who wants to babble about their own writing! Do this, it was so much fun. <3

[can-youimagine]

not really “hamilton”,,,, but anywho, hi could you write a daveed fic where the reader is rafael’s older sister (like by a couple years) and she meets daveed through rafa, but rafa is all whiny over his sister getting w daveed.. but he eventually gives in because he’s happy that she’s happy and he gets to mess w daveed about “goin soft” and stuff?? thank u i love ur writing❤️

Sorry, this took so long! I had a blast writing this! Also, I’m not really sure if this is what you wanted. I am happy to rewrite it if you want!

“You know how you’re my incredibly successful sister, and I love you so much,” your brother says through the phone before you even have the time to say hello.

“What do you want?”

“Can I not just-”

“Nope,” you balance the phone between your ear and your shoulder as you unlock your car, “What do you want?”

“Look, my friend and I are in New York for a thing he’s working on. Can we just stay with you for a few days until one of us can rent a place?”

“Fine, whatever. When will you be here?”

“We’re outside your door. Thanks! I owe you!”

You roll your eyes. “I’ll add this to the list. I’ll be home in twenty.” You hang up the phone before he has a chance to ask for anything else. Of course, he moved to New York on a whim.

When you get to your apartment, you see two men sitting outside the building, waiting for someone, you, to let them in. When Rafael sees you, he jumps up. “(Y/N)! Thank you so much! It’ll only be a few days, I promise. A week, at most.”

You nod your head. “Take all the time you need.” You turn your attention to his friend. “Hi, I’m (Y/N). I’m sure if you can put up with Rafa, you can put up with me for a few days.”

He chuckles. “Daveed. Thank you so much. All of this is new last minute.”

As you make your way up to your apartment, Daveed explains his project, but you can’t bring yourself to listen. The way he talks about something he’s interested in is infectious, the way his eyes light up and how his lips curl into a soft smile.

“I’m sure (Y/N)’ll love it. She’s a huge nerd. Still working for the Frick?” Rafael asks, pulling you out of your Daveed-induced trance.

“No. I’m with the Natural History museum now. Although, if you bothered to look at the papers before you sat on them, you would have known that,” you respond, snatching the papers from the chair. Daveed laughs at the interaction before gathering papers from the couch. “I’ve got a couch in here and in my office that you can fight over. Bathroom’s in that door. That’s my room,” you explain, pointing into each of the rooms. “I was planning on leftovers for dinner, but I’m afraid I don’t have that much. There are some takeout menus around here somewhere, if you guys want to order something.”

“You’re paying?”

You raise an eyebrow at your brother. “You’re sleeping on the street?”

He smirks.

“Just pick something, will you.”

He quickly decides on something, not wanting to push his luck any further. While you wait for the food, you get to know Daveed a bit more. You both share the couch, Rafael having been banished to the floor when he made a comment about you being “as old as the artifacts you work with”.

Eventually, between the food and spending time with Daveed, you lose track of time. When you finally look at the clock, you jump off the couch. “Shit, I’ve got to go to work in, well, a few hours now.” You give each of them a hug. “I’m going to attempt to look presentable. You two should get some rest. Try not to break anything while I’m gone.”

“I would never,” Daveed exclaims in mock offense.

You laugh. “Your job is to keep him in check.”

You don’t bother to catch any sleep. Instead, you hop into the shower. Even though you aren’t near him anymore, you can’t stop thinking about Daveed. You had heard about him well before meeting him, but you didn’t pay much mind to it. You assumed that he was going to be just as annoying as your brother, but as soon as you met him, you couldn’t stop thinking about him.

As you step out of the shower, you hear a loud crash and a string of curses. “Do I want to know?” you ask, getting dressed.

“No!” they answer in unison.

You laugh. “Better be fixed when I come out.”

Luckily, by the time you are ready to leave, they seemed to have fixed whatever it is that they broke. “I’m gonna head out. See you later.” You move to hug both of them, but Rafael stops you. “Nuh-uh. We’ve exceeded our hug quota for the year.”

“Guess I’ll just have to get his hug,” Daveed says before wrapping his arms around you. You melt into his touch, forgetting about everything.

Until your brother clears his throat. “Aren’t you going to be late?”

You push yourself away, leave it to him to ruin your moment. “Yeah. I’ll be back around six. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Yeah, will do,” Daveed says, awkwardly stepping away from you. “See you later.”

You nod, grabbing your purse and heading out the door. Before it closes, you can just make out your brother hiss, “What the hell was that?”

You stay in the hall, listening to them.

“What was what?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“No, I don’t.”

“So, you have absolutely no interest in my sister?”

“I, well, I,” he stutters, trying to come up with an answer.

“That’s what I thought.”

You hear them move around, so you can’t hear what they are saying anymore. You can’t tell if that’s for better or worse. 

You don’t get any work done. You spend the entire day thinking about what you heard. Surely, you were just imagining things. There’s no way that he could have any interest in you. He was going to Broadway, and you were working in the back halls of a museum. “He’ll be gone in a week, and then you can stop thinking about him,” you mutter to yourself. 

“You’re back early,” Rafael says as you walk into your apartment.

“I don’t think I have to explain myself to you.” You set your purse on the table. “I went ahead and picked up dinner.” You busy yourself by putting the bag in the fridge. “Johnson was having a sale, so I figured that I could go ahead and pick something up. How’d the search go?”

“Horrible! Does anyone in this city ever leave?”

You laugh. “I think Macy down the hall is close to leaving and going back to Nebraska. You could check it out.”

“You really want to be living with me again?”

“I really just want you out of my place as quickly as possible.”

Suddenly, Rafa gets a devious smirk on his face. “You know what, you’re right. I’ll go down and check.” He quickly gets up and rushes out of your apartment, leaving you standing in the kitchen rather bewildered.

Not long after he leaves, Daveed comes out of your office. “Where did he take off to?”

You shake your head. “I have no idea.” You are suddenly aware of how small your apartment is, how close Daveed is. “I-uh-I got dinner. It’s in the fridge whenever you want it.” 

“You good?”

“Yeah, I, uh,” you respond, “yeah.”

He smiles, taking a step closer to you. “You’re a lot like your brother, y’ know.”

You place your hand over your heart. “Why, I am offended! I-”

“You talk a lot when you’re nervous.”

“I’m not nervous.”

He places his hand on the wall behind you, effectively trapping you. “You’re not?”

“N-nope,” you choke out.

“So, you wouldn’t be nervous at all, if I kissed you right now.”

You feel your breath catch in your throat. You have to be dreaming, right? He seriously can’t be asking to kiss you right now. “No.”

“Good,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss you. You are no longer dreaming. Every part of your body that he touches feels like it’s on fire. As he pulls away, you collapse into him. “Still nervous?”

You shake your head. “Never was.”

He rolls his eyes. “Sure.”

By the time Rafa returns from wherever he ran off to, you and Daveed and curled up on the couch, talking over whatever mindless show you had put on. “Really, on my couch?”

“You always know how to ruin a moment,” you say, tossing a pillow in his direction. 

In a true younger brother fashion, Rafael settles between the two of you on the couch. “So, what are we watching?”

You and Daveed share a look before getting off the couch. “You are watching Superstore.” You pull Daveed into your room with much protest from your brother. When you hear the TV shut off and your brother start pacing, you sigh. “I should go talk to him, shouldn’t I?”

“Probably,” Daveed answers, making now attempt to let you up.

“Alright.” You push him off of you. “I’ll be back.” When you walk out of your room, you see Rafa pacing the room.

“Done so soon?”

“What has gotten into you?”

He stands, looking out the window with his back facing you. “I’m fine.”

“Oh, yeah, brooding and grumbling is definitely fine.” You stand next to him. “Talk to me.”

“I don’t want you dating him.”

“So, you left to check on an apartment that isn’t on the market yet?”

“I just... I thought that this would make both of you happy. I-and you can’t repeat this to anyone-love both of you, and I want you both to be happy, but when I saw you together... I guess I just got worried that you would leave me behind. Like when you-”

“Moved to New York?”

He looks down. “Yeah.”

“I did move here to get away from you,” you admit. “We both tell stories, and you do it much better than me.” He opens his mouth to protest, but you cut him off. “Look, this is the one compliment that I’m going to give you, so take it. I know that you wouldn’t write like you do if I were still home. You don’t want to make me look bad.”

“Shh, don’t tell anyone.”

You shake your head. “And, I was right. Look, I’d never leave you behind to hurt you, just to help you.”

“How do you know if something’s going to hurt me?”

“The same way I knew that playing with the Christmas ornaments was a bad idea. It’s hurt me before.”

“You’re sure that being with Diggs is a good idea?”

“You seem to trust him.”

“He’s a good guy. Though, I never thought that I would ever get to see him this soft. He spent the entire day talking about you.’

You smile. “We good?”

He pulls you into a hug. “We good.”

“What happened to the hug quota?” you tease.

“I didn’t see you last year. You owe me this one.”

“I heard there was hugging going on out here,” a familiar voice interjects.

You both open your arms to him. “Get in here, D!”

“I also thought I heard you say that you love me.”

“I was in an emotional place, don’t judge me.”

“I hope you’re not as hardheaded as him,” Daveed says to you.

“It’s in our blood,” you and your brother answer in unison. 

[mcwriting]

call me, beep me

In which I wrote a Kim Possible AU :)

Ship: Tom Holland x Reader

Word Count: 3865 

Warnings: literally none lol it’s all fun and fluff

#

“Toooom!” you exclaimed in a loud cry. He had clumsily knocked over part of your science fair project, a diorama of the solar system. His misstep caused Pluto to pop off the wire and dented Neptune a little.

“Oh my gosh, y/n, I’m so sorry, let me get that-” he started to reach down and grab the littlest planet at the same time as you, causing both of your heads to bump together.

You each jumped back again, exclaiming “ow!” and rubbing your temples simultaneously.

Things had been off between you and your childhood best friend lately. 

You’d been attached at the hip since preschool, and though you had your ups and downs, had always stayed friends. You were partners in (fighting) crime, but now it was like you were out of sync and couldn’t figure out why. 

“It’s okay, Tom. Seriously. I can fix it myself. You need to work on your project anyways, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. If it makes you feel any better, most people don’t even consider Pluto a planet anymore, so I kinda did you a favor.”

“You take that back! Pluto is so a planet!”

As you both laughed it off, a familiar four-toned beep came from your pocket.

“What’s the sitch, Jacob?” you asked into the phone, where your friend could be seen sitting at his computer.

“Hey, y/n. I was checking out Dr. Gyllenhaal’s purchase history lately, and well... tell me if this sounds fishy: 200 pounds of cherry flavored jello mix. That might not sound too bad except that he’s at the villain convention and just snatched the last 30 liters of mind-control juice. The first person you look at after ingesting some can control what you do unless you can reverse it. Oh, and he invited you and everyone else in town to a cookout at the park tomorrow.”

“Well, definitely doesn’t sound like any regular cookout. I’ll check things out. Give me location on the convention and we’ll head over,” you responded, annoyed that you needed to take a pause on your project that was due the next morning.

“I’m gonna ask him why he chose cherry. I mean, really. All the flavors in the world and you pick cherry!?” Tom said incredulously. You rolled your eyes in amusement and grabbed his arm.

“Come on, jello boy. Let’s go.”

#

The year’s convention was the place to be.

The villain counsel had gotten together and gotten a spot at the biggest venue in Rio, and everyone had been able to share conquests and victories along the beach.

Which is where Dr. Gyllenhaal was happily sipping on his frozen drink in the sun as his henchwoman, Daisy, lounged nearby.

“So you really think jello is the way to go, huh? Not a mixer at the club? It’d be a lot more fun that way,” she trailed.

“Y/n y/l/n and that... that... buffoon of hers are in high school. They cannot go to clubs. But jello! I mean who doesn’t love jello!?”

“Well... me for one. And cherry, really? Cherry? Couldn’t have at least gone for strawberry?”

“Cherry is the best flavor and you know it! Now let me enjoy my drink in peace before we head back to the lair.”

“Better sip quickly. I think that’s her and her little friend on the parasail that just disconnected from the boat,” Daisy said nonchalantly, sunglasses pulled down to see you gliding towards the beach.

“WHAT!?”

He threw the drink aside and sat up quickly.

You and your parachute were floating down gracefully as Tom was struggling. His naked mole rat, Tessa, was desperately trying to detangle him but to no avail, so he decided to bail, dropping into the ocean with a large splash. 

You couldn’t help but shake your head as you detached and landed on the beach, doing a somersault to break your fall. 

“Miss y/l/n, nice of you to arrive,” Dr. Gyllenhaal sneered as you stood. You were about to answer when Tom was clumsily thrown onto the sand by the crashing tide. 

“And you brought your little boyfriend, too.”

You looked down in surprise at Tom, who gave you the same deer-in-the-headlights look.

“We’re not- I mean he isn’t-”

“Y/n and I would never- What are you-” 

You both stammered. 

“Oh how cute. They’re blushing.” Daisy teased. “Now, time to kick your butt.”

With that you ensued in typical hand-to-hand combat along the beach, using your tumbling skills to narrowly avoid Daisy’s glowing fists along with other beach obstacles. 

“Where’s the juice!? I know you have it!” you exclaimed between handsprings.

“Isn’t that a funny question. You know I have some right here but-” Gyllenhaal pulled out a flask with the liquid to gloat, but tripped, the lid popping off and liquid beginning to splash out. “Oops!”

It was heading towards both you and Tom, so you turned to say, “Don’t let it get in your mouth!”

Some splashed onto yours and Tom’s faces. He cringed and ran towards the ocean.

“Tom what are you-” you couldn’t finish the thought, because as you were watching, a drop fell from your lips onto your tongue.

Suddenly, you felt inclined to do whatever Tom said. He was washing his face off with the salt water when you turned back around to look at your nemesis.

"Ooh let’s see if this works. Okay y/n. Tell me I’m pretty,” Gyllenhaal said, looking at you expectantly. You furrowed your brows. 

“Hmm. Maybe it needs to be an action. Y/n, go get me another piña colada.”

“What do you think I am, your slave?” you retorted sarcastically. His jaw dropped. 

“But I- I bought so much... WHY ISN’T IT WORKING?” he cried out.

Tom appeared next to you again.

“Hey y/n could you tell me if my hair’s messed up?”

You looked at him and without a thought answered.

“Oh yeah it’s parted weird. Lemme fix that.” You reached out and flopped a strand over. 

Dr. Gyllenhaal had a startling revelation.

“Oh no. Oh my gosh. YOU.YOU BUMBLING IDIOT. You’re the one who has the power to control y/n now? Oh dear. Daisy, we need to go at once!”

With that they sped off on a scooter, getting away once again. 

“What was he talking about? Oh hey, my shoe’s untied. Could you get that?” he asked. Usually it was a joke between you that you’d never tie his shoes, but immediately you were knelt down double knotting his laces.

You stood up, confused at what had overcome you, but quickly realization washed over your face.

“You...” you whispered. “I drank the juice, and now you get to control me until we can figure out a remedy...”

“What? No way, y/n. That’s crazy talk. If I had the power to control you, I’d tell you to eat an avocado and you’d actually do it.”

Ugh. Avocados.

One of your least favorite foods. They disgusted you, but without second thought you ran to find one, ravenously peeling off the skin with your bare hands and eating the soft fruit inside.

Tom looked at you in shock and horror.

“OH MY GOSH I”M CONTROLLING YOUR MIND!” he exclaimed, hands thrown upward onto his head. He started pacing and muttering to himself nervously.

You quickly finished the avocado, tossing the skin and pit aside. You wiped your mouth and immediately you were disgusted with yourself, the taste still lingering in your mouth.

“Ugh. That’s what I was trying to tell you!”

“Well call Jacob and figure out how to undo it!”

Immediately you pulled out your phone and rang him up, explaining the situation.

“... and it would really be nice if Tom could get me some water,” you muttered after telling Jacob what had happened.

“Why don’t you get it yourself?” Tom asked, prompting you to run to the nearest snack shack and grab yourself a water. You drank it in annoyance as Tom looked at you sheepishly.

“Well... here’s the problem... so far there’s no known antidote, y/n. Sorry. I’ll see if I can figure it out though,” Jacob explained. You groaned.

“Yeah, okay. Keep me in the loop. And while I’ve got you, could you send us a ride home?” 

“Sure thing, y/n. I’ll be in touch,” Jacob added, screen going black as he ended the call.

“Welp, y/n. This is going to be fun, right?” Tom asked enthusiastically.

“Sure. Fun.”

#

You were quickly putting together Tom’s baking soda volcano as he lounged nearby on your bed. He’d used his new power to get you to finish his project for him.

“As soon as we figure out the cure, I’m so gonna pummel you,” you said as you painted red drips around the rim and sides.

“Maybe it’s best that we don’t find that cure...” Tom started, until you shot him a glare. “Kidding! Kidding. Seriously though, y/n, I’ll repay you for doing this. It’s just, we all know you’re the smart one in this pairing.”

You perked up and looked at him funny as you continued to work.

“Pairing?”

“Well, yeah sure. I mean I couldn’t say couple, and well... I couldn’t think of a better word. Friendship doesn’t sound right either.”

You turned around, cheeks warm.

“What do you mean by that?” you asked quietly.

“We’re more than just friends, y/n. Everyone knows that. We’ve been at each other’s sides for forever. I just feel like only calling us friends doesn’t really encapsulate our relationship.”

“Oh... yeah. I see,” you said, a couple nervous chuckles leaving your breath as you moved on from painting lava to gluing fake trees around the volcano.

“What do you see it as, y/n?”

You felt the urgency to answer truthfully but wasn’t really sure how to. Like you’d said before, it was complicated.

“Well I... I don’t know. You’re my best friend, Tom. I’m not really sure what else to say.”

Tom looked down at Tessa, who was asleep in his hand. 

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, of course. I mean, that’s probably how anyone else would describe it...” he trailed. You felt yourself deflate in the same way Tom did, but you’d been honest.

You kind of had to be, after all. 

After a few minutes of rare silence between you two, Tom spoke up again.

“Hey y/n? You don’t have to keep working on that. It looks incredible as it is and I owe you a million for it.” You stopped what you were doing and leaned away from the project. 

“You know, I think I’m gonna head home. Tessa’s pretty much konked out and I’m pretty exhausted, too. It’s probably best that you finish up your work and hit the hay after I leave.”

You knew his statement wasn’t supposed to be a command, but now you’d be doing just that as soon as he was out the door.

He got up to leave, stuffing the sleepy mole rat into his pocket where she often hid and you stood from your place on the floor. 

“I’ll get all this stuff in the morning when I come to pick you up, okay?” Tom said. You nodded, a slight, lopsided grin on your lips.

You both stood awkwardly for a second before you leaned in, giving him a hug like you often did when parting ways. His arms engulfed you.

“Good night, y/n.”

“Night, Tom.”

With that you parted and he was out the door. As soon as you heard the front door shut, you were back to fixing your solar system.

#

As you got ready in the morning, thoughts about the prior night came bubbling up.

You hadn’t really had much thought about it before, because you’d been “ordered” to do your school project and go to bed, not leaving much time for reflection.

Are we just best friends? Are we not? I mean we aren’t a couple but we’ve got more going on than the average best friend, right? Am I just saying this because we fight crime unlike everyone else? Do I like-

You were snapped out of your thoughts when your  younger twin brothers called up, signaling that Tom was at the door. A few moments later he appeared at your bedroom.

“Mornin’ y/n,” he said, chipper as ever. It seemed that he was going to put the previous night’s events behind him. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah, just a second. I forgot to take your project to my car before you got here.”

“Oh I can get mine,” Tom offered, stuffing a tri-fold under his arm and picking up the volcano with his hands.

“You- you’re not gonna make me do it?” you asked.

“What? Nah. I’m actively trying to not mind control you today. I feel bad about doing it.” 

“It’s going to happen eventually, you know. But come on. I don’t want to be late to the science fair.”

#

Yours and Tom’s displays were next to each other in the gym and for the most part, everything was going well. 

He’d slipped up a couple of times in the mind control department, but they were simple questions, so no one really picked up on it.

As you were preparing for the fair to start, you rolled your eyes as your co-caption on the cheer squad (and high school enemy) Zendaya walked up.

“Oh my gosh, y/n. What’s this? A solar system? That’s it?”

“I mean my dad’s a rocket scientist. And did you forget the fact that I’ve been to space? Maybe if you read my poster you’d understand that my project is about more than just some floating space balls.”

“Ugh. Whatever. Mine’s gonna win either way,” she bragged, earning another eye roll.

“Yeah we’ll see about that,” you grumbled. 

She flicked her hair and turned on her heel, headed back to her area. You huffed at her annoying arrogance.

“Don’t worry about it, y/n. You’ve got this,” Tom encouraged. Suddenly all tension left you.

Maybe this mind control stuff isn’t always bad. At least not when you’ve got the best kind of cheerleader by your side.

You looked at Tom with a soft smile. He was paying attention to Tessa, so he couldn’t see the way you were studying him. 

Over the years, you’d seen more of Tom than practically anyone else had, but yet you still found yourself trying to memorize every little mark and freckle on his face. You analyzed each curl of his hair. The way his lashes fluttered when he blinked.

You snapped out of it when he looked back up at you.

“You okay, y/n?” he asked.

“What? Oh, yeah. Just got distracted for a second. That’s all.”

Before he could press you further, your phone beeped. 

“Hey Jacob. Any updates?” 

“Well... I have an update, but it’s not necessarily the best news. There aren’t any known antidotes for the juice yet. I even emailed the seller under a fake name and he couldn’t give me a good answer. I got my hands on a little and will send some to the lab. Hang tight. Oh, and good luck with your project.”

You said some parting words and hung up.

“Well great. We’re no closer to solving this and we have to figure out a way to get everyone in town to not eat the stupid jello unless we can find a cure. This is shaping up to be just the best.”

“Hey. It’s okay. Just focus on presenting your project for now and beating Zendaya, okay? You can definitely do that.”

And once again, you felt yourself succumb to his words as the judging began.

#

“See. I told you you could do it,” Tom said excitedly as you carried a large trophy home.

“I had a feeling I would anyways, but I was kind of under order to win, so there was no way I’d take anything less than first.”

“Yeah, yeah. That’s my girl,” Tom said offhandedly, taking a second to realize the implications of what he may have said. “And- and by my girl I don’t mean my girl I mean you’re just my best... um.. you know...”

“Tom. It’s okay. I get it. We don’t need to start this again right now. Now we need to focus on stopping Gyllenhaal and finding a cure. Plus, I need to change into a cute outfit for the cookout.”

# 

Hours of brainstorming and you were still no closer to finding a solution, but most of town was now gathered at the park feasting on hot dogs, hamburgers, and all the chips and potato salad they could handle. 

The jello had yet to make an appearance on tables, and there was no sign of Dr. Gyllenhaal or Daisy as you and Tom approached the families chowing down and having fun. 

You couldn’t, however, ignore the large curtained stage on one side of the park.

After hanging out with Tom and some other friends, the curtain suddenly opened, revealing your nemesis on the stage, microphone in hand.

“Good evening, friends. I’m your friendly neighborhood Dr. Gyllenhaal, and tonight I’m going to be your musical entertainment. But first! We want everyone to feast on the finest dessert, so jello for everyone!” he exclaimed.

You stomach dropped.

“Tom we gotta act fast. You help stop people from eating the jello and I’m going to try to get him off stage.”

As you split up, you got another beep on your phone.

“Hurry, Jacob. I don’t have much time.” 

“Okay, okay. I think I just solved your problem. You remember that movie Ella Enchanted?”

“Uh, yeah. I don’t see the correlation.”

“Well remember when at the end, the only way Ella breaks her curse is by talking to herself in the mirror..?”

“Oh my gosh you’re a genius. If the first person you look at is yourself, then you’re still in control! Anyway you can hook us up with some mirrors?”

“Already on it. But first, you need to test it on yourself just to make sure. I think Gyllenhaal has some extra juice hidden behind the stage if you can get your hands on it.”

“On my way. Thanks, Jake. You’re a lifesaver.”

You sprinted towards the stage, now in a different pursuit than before. You darted around the side, looking around to see if there were any bottles you could grab a quick swig from.

“Oh no you don’t,” a voice called from behind you. Daisy.

“Look, I just want some of the juice for myself alright? Nothing else.”

Yet.

“Oh we’ve got a good girl gone bad, huh? I don’t buy that sister.”

She lunged at you and once again you were in typical combat, flipping around and swinging off stage rigs, trying to get to the lone bottle of juice that was resting in the bed of a truck.

After a couple minutes, you were able to outsmart Daisy and grab the bottle. You pulled a compact from your pocket and looked straight into the mirror.

“This better work,” you muttered, tossing back some of the liquid and looking into the eyes of your reflection.

You didn’t feel any different, so you swung up onto the stage and knocked Gyllenhaal over, searching the crowd for Tom as you tried to trap the mad scientist.

“Tom! Tom tell me to do something!” you cried out upon seeing him. He was furiously rushing between tables trying to prevent people from eating the jello.

“What? Like what? I don’t want to ruin the mission!”

“Just say whatever! Hurry!”

“Okay fine! Eat another avocado!”

Dr. Gyllenhaal looked up at you expectantly, but you had no desire to find the green fruit, not even a twinge. Instead, you continued what you were doing before.

Dr. Gyllenhaal, on the other hand, paled. 

“Oh dear,” he whispered nervously, realizing you had found a solution to the problem he had created.

“Daisy get the helicopter! Hurry!” he cried out, slipping from your grip and running away like he always did. 

You let him go to focus on helping anyone who had eaten the jello, those of which Tom was trying to round up so you could help them.

After getting everyone cured, Jacob had called the lab he was working with to get the jello and dispose of it properly, allowing them to run more tests, too, now that they knew the cure.

You stood aside, arms crossed in satisfaction, as Tom approached.

“So you’re you again? Nothing I say can affect you?”

“Well I wouldn’t put it that way, but I’m definitely not eating any avocados or tying your shoelaces in the near future.”

He gave a chuckle and you started slowly walking home from the park.

“Hey, um, now that you’re cured and everything, I’m really sorry about last night. I accidentally put you in a weird position and I get it if you’re mad at me. I’m okay just calling us friends and ending it there if that’s what you want,” Tom said. 

You thought for a few moments about his proposal.

“You know, I was technically being honest last night, but my answer has changed since then.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well... These past couple of weeks, things have felt really...”

“Weird? Off?” he interjected.

“Exactly! We’ve been so out of sync and I couldn’t figure out why! But after last night I realized that it’s because we aren’t simply friends. And I don’t know where you stand on this, but... I think I have feelings for you? And if you want to stay just friends I understand, but I just hate when we aren’t honest with each other.”

“Wait. You do?”

“Yeah. I really do.”

You braced yourself for him to shoot you down and put you back in the friend zone, but his reply surprised you.

“I guess now is the perfect time to tell you that I’ve had feelings for you for... well... ever.”

Now it was your turn to be shocked.

“You have!?”

“Well, yeah. Of course. You’re strong, smart, and beautiful. You kick butt like nobody’s business and above all, put up with me every day. You’re like the most incredible person ever. How could I not be into you?”

You felt yourself blushing as you approached your front porch.

“You’re amazing, Tom. You know that?” he jokingly waved you off, but then you were standing quietly.

“Sooo... monthly movie marathon tomorrow at my place? I’ll provide the snackage,” Tom offered, reminding you of your scheduled hangout. You looked down at the ground with a smile, then back up again, nodding.

Usually this was the part where you’d say goodnight and maybe hug, but this time you took it a step further.

You reached up and kissed him on the lips. It was only for a second, but both of you were stunned upon pulling back.

“I know I usually tell you not to bring anything to movie day, but could you please bring some more of those with you?” Tom joked once he snapped out of it.

“Oh my gosh,” you replied in amusement, giving him a light shove. “Goodnight, Tom.”

“Night, y/n.”

And with that, the man you realized you’d loved for years turned around and made his leave.

#

A/N: yooooo I actually really loved this. I really tried to fit the KP vibes but sorry if anything felt off. There’s just not much as iconic as the og Kim and Ron, ya know?

Anyways thanks for reading and as always please feel free to send an ask or message anytime!

Send a message or ask if you’d like to be added to my permanent or series taglists so I can verify you’ve been added!

Tag list: @readheadwriter, @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @agentnataliahofferson, @spider-babe,  

[okskz]

The Real Truth.

Mia + Stray Kids

mia finally tells the rest of the group about her future plans and in the end mia finds out how chan truly feels with her doing activities outside of stray kids.

hope you guys enjoy! please feel free to leave some feedback because it is always appreciated!

[9th Member of Stray Kids]

Mia took a deep breath as she paced around in her room. In a couple of seconds she was going to go out in the living room and tell the rest of her members about her plans with Elsy. She didn’t know exactly how she was going to tell them and also how the others would react. Mia wanted them to know the news as soon as possible.

In the end, all she wanted was their full support because all of this was new to her.

“Okay.” Mia breathed out, coming out of her room and entering the living room.

Changbin and Felix were in the kitchen cooking while Minho and Hyunjin were sat on the table. Mia took one glance at them and they noticed she looked nervous. The both of them knew what Mia was going to do, so they each gave her a thumbs up in approval.

It slightly made her feel at ease, knowing that right now two of them were showing support in her. Without wasting another second, Mia began talking to catch their attention. “Um, can I talk to all of you?”

“What is it?” Changbin questioned as he walked closer to the girl.

They had all gathered in the living room, giving Mia their full attention as she stood in front of them. She bit her lip just a little as she tried gathering her thoughts. “I’m just gonna go out and say it. I am going to participate in a girl project the contains Elsy and I.”

Silence filled the room as all boys stared at Mia. Hyunjin and Minho were the only ones who were smiling, already knowing the news.

Chan was the first to say something as he looked at the girl confused. “You’re doing a what?”

“A girl project. With Elsy and I.” Mia said again.

“What does that it even mean, what exactly are you doing?”

“It’s going to be us making a song together and we’re going to promote it... together.”

Jisung looked at Chan then back at Mia. “Will it just be a song you’re doing?”

Mia shook her head, causing Chan to lift an eyebrow. He glanced at Changbin and made a face expression, signaling if he knew anything about this. Changbin was quick to shrug his shoulders as he shook his head no as well.

“No, well the song will be the title track-“

“Title track?” Chan questioned. “As in there’s more to this?”

“Yes.” Mia nodded. “There’s going to be an album and music video involved.”

Almost everyone’s eyes turned wide. “So you’re basically re-debuting, except with Elsy as a duo?” Changbin questioned.

“Basically, yeah.” Mia said softly. She brought her eyes to Chan, who was facing the other way, not even looking at Mia. Although she couldn’t see it, she could already telling he wasn’t taking the news so well.

“Listen, I’m not asking for much and I’ve been debating back and forth on how to tell you guys this because I was scared on how you guys would take it, but all I’m asking for is for your support.” Mia said. “This is all new to me and I’ve never done things without you guys but yeah, that’s just all I want-“

“How long have you known about this?” Chan then spoke up again.

“Um, around the first week of promotion.”

Chan’s eyes narrowed at Mia as he furrowed his eyebrows. “And you decide to tell us this now?”

“Well yeah, because at the time I didn’t know whether I wanted to do it or not-“

“And went ahead and decided yes, without talking to us?”

Changbin began hearing the way Chan’s tone in voice was changing in every word he spoke, causing Mia to become nervous. “Hey, tone it down will you?”

Chan simply ignored him and continued to stare at Mia. “I talked to Hyunjin and Minho about it-“

“And it didn’t cross your mind to talk to us as well?”

“Yes, of course, but I was nervous on how you guys would react which is why I went to them first. And I wanted to tell you guys when everything was settled for this project.”

“So you can’t get out of it?”

“No.” Mia shook her head. “Why would I even do that? We already had a meeting for all of this.”

“You already had a meeting?” Chan asked standing up. “So all this time while we’ve been promoting, you’ve been planning on something else aside from us?”

“N-no.” Mia stuttered. “Well, kind of, but we’re barely on the beginning of planning. Which is why I wanted to tell you guys now instead of keeping it a-“

“Secret.” Chan finished Mia’s sentence, crossing his arms. “You didn’t want to keep it a secret.”

The whole room became silent as Mia looked down at her feet. This was exactly what she had feared happening.

“That’s enough.” Changbin said, standing up as well. “I don’t get how you can act like that towards your own member.”

“I just find it odd how she promised no more secrets but when ahead and hid this one.”

“I wasn’t hiding anything!” Mia snapped. “I only kept this for myself for a little while because I know how you tend to get! Which is exactly what you’re doing right now!”

Minho sighed. “Here we go again.” He whispered to Hyunjin.

“Can we talk about this, in private?” Chan asked. The last thing he wanted was to cause a scene in front of the members.

“Fine.”

Chan was the first to move, walking until he was in his room.

“If it makes you feel any better, we’re definitely going to support you.” Jeongin smiled, trying to cheer Mia up. The rest of the group agreed with him.

“Thanks guys.” Mia softly smiled. She took one glance at Changbin, who smiled back at her, before walking into Chan’s room.

“Alright Bang, what is it that you want to talk about?”

“I just don’t know how to feel about this, I mean how do you expect me to support you when you’re still keeping secrets.”

Mia glared at Chan, her eyes were beginning to get teary as she got more irritated by him. “I was not keeping secrets, Chan! And honestly the only secret I have kept from you is Changbin and I dating! You’re acting as if I’m this horrible person that’s constantly lying. Which is exactly why I didn’t even come to you in the first place because I know how you get!”

“I just.” Chan sighed. “I just don’t want you to go through with this.”

Mia closed her eyes shut as a few tears slipped. She was both angry and upset. “Why?” She choked up. “Why can’t you just be happy for me? I’m actually really excited about this project and I want your support, Chan. Why do you have to act like this?”

“I... don’t know.”

“No, you do know!” Mia began talking louder again. “You constantly attack me when it comes to this type of stuff and I want to know why!”

Chan became silent which made Mia get more irritated by the second. “Why, Chan?!”

“Because I know you don’t need us!”

Mia was taken back by his sudden outburst, causing her to move back a bit. She furrowed her eyebrows. “What is that supposed to mean? Of course I need you guys, you guys are my team.”

Chan sighed, sitting on his bed and patted for Mia to take a sit next to him. He knew Mia had every right to know how he truly feels.

“Truth is, the reason why I get like this is because I know you don’t need us. You’re a very talented person who can literally do it all. With us, or if you were in another group or solo artist, you always shine because there’s just something special about you.” He swallowed. “Remember when I asked you to be in the group?”

Mia nodded. “Yeah, you looked like a stalker when you were peaking through the window before you asked me.”

The two let out a small laugh. “Beside the point.” Chan sighed as he gathered what he wanted to say. “I know you were a bit hesitant when saying yes to me which made me do everything I could to make you comfortable when joining the team because I didn’t want you and still don’t want you to have any regrets about your decision. Because I know you basically threw being in Itzy down the drain.

“Chan.” Mia spoke softly as more tears began to spill down her face. “I don’t have any regrets, I love being with you guys. You guys are literally everything to me and I couldn’t imagine my life without any of you in it. Saying yes to you was the best decision I ever made.”

The older boy let out a deep breath after hearing Mia’s words. “God, I feel horrible. I did it again.”

“I guess I’m just really insecure about this because what if you end up liking this more than when being with us? I don’t want you to leave us, you are so important to this group that we would be incomplete without you. I remember telling the others we were missing something and thank god I found you.”

“You loser, I’m not going anywhere. You guys are stuck with me forever.” Mia laughed, she went in for a side hug. “The second you put me in this group I made a commitment and have always tried to prove myself that I was worthy enough to be here.”

Now it was Chan who was taken back from Mia’s words. “You’ll always be worthy enough, Mia.”

Mia let out a sigh. “I don’t want to argue anymore, I hate when we do this. It’s pointless.”

“Me either. I will say we have gotten better at actually talking it out.”

“We have.” Mia smiled.

There was a comfortable silence between the two as they continued to hug each other before Chan spoke up again. “How did this project even come about?”

“It was Elsy’s idea. Jyp offered her a solo project but gave him the idea of us two working together instead and he loved the idea.”

Chan swallowed hard. “It was her idea?”

“Mhm.” Mia hummed.

“Hm, how great.” Chan said, slowly growing irritated.

Mia didn’t seem to notice the way Chan had said it sarcastically. “You should talk to her.” Mia said. “She misses you.”

“Yeah, I think I will.”

[happymetalgirl]

Album Chronology - Death

The whole ranking-albums-from-worst-to-best has been done to death to the point of staleness at this point, but mostly due to the format, at least to me. I’ve read so many damn worst-to-best lists at this point that they’re all kind of predictable even when they’re seemingly trying to force some kind of novelty or surprise factor by putting a fan-favorite or highly revered album really low in a ranked list. It’s all gotten pretty dry at this point, plus, to me, I can’t help but see a little bit of futility in compiling lists for active artists whose next release will render such a list so quickly obsolete. I honestly had the idea of doing something tier-related to make it less rigid a year or so ago, but lo and behold, tier-list videos are the newest horse getting beaten to death. So rather than jumping around an artist’s catalog and tossing in some spicy hot takes, I figured why not take the chronological approach and trace the story of the artist’s creative trajectory, and not spoil the #1 spot by revealing the #2 spot.

So why do these kinds of lists? Also, why Death?

I make this little chronology to offer my insight into Death’s discography partly for the reason so many others have made similar rankings: to appreciate Death’s music and the huge legacy Chuck Schuldiner left through it. But I also make this because I do think my perspective on Death is a somewhat unique one, at least among Death fans. Chuck Schuldiner was an incredibly talented musician and a beloved figure within the world of metal, and that aspect of his legacy has undoubtedly been enhanced by the untimeliness and unfairness of his passing. The guy certainly had a strong presence on the stage and a certain charisma off of it, and his cherishing of animals surely resonates with me as well. Death was also hardly my first death metal band, so I do think that gives me a bit less of a nostalgic perspective on their legacy. I still enjoy a lot of the same things about Death that most fans do, and at the end of this list, it might not really end up being all that shocking or controversial, just a slightly tempered version of what most fans would make. I’m pretty long-winded, so I’ll cut the intro and get into the music: Death.

1987 - Scream Bloody Gore

I have to reinforce my position right from the get-go about having a more measured view of the band’s catalog because the spicy takes come right out of the gate with Death’s debut album, Scream Bloody Gore. The sour really isn’t all that sour and it comes with a little bit of sweet right afterward too: I think this is Death’s worst album. But that just means it only gets better from here, and I do still really like it. It’s a classic in its own right that started Death on a more solid footing than the average debut project in very new territory at the time and I again do genuinely still like it a lot; I own it, along with the rest of the band’s catalog, on vinyl. But it is, as I mentioned, a first step into new territory, and rather naturally primordial, which indeed has its own appeal in the context of the era it came from and for which it deserves tremendous appreciation. There is indeed a lot to appreciate here. I love the persistence of the bass line in the title track, the hooks of songs like “Zombie Ritual” and “Baptized in Blood”, and the amped up Slayer-inspired extremification of thrash metal that would only snowball further as the band and the genre they helped pioneer progressed. But the primary role Scream Bloody Gore served was to lay the groundwork for Death to expand upon in that early era that would itself later become the groundwork for their more ambitious progressive tilt during the second half of their career. I’ll throw it out right here just to get it outbid then way, it’s not exactly a hot take, but some Death fans are partial the other way; it’s probably already evident, but I prefer the band’s second era from Human to Perseverance. Personally I think bands like Morbid Angel and Cannibal Corspe were more suited to this primal gory form of early death metal, and I think Death would have wound up being seen as merely a pretty good band in a tier below those guys if they had stuck with what they were doing with their debut and the two albums that followed for the rest of their career. Again, Scream Bloody Gore is by no means a bad album, or even a rough start, kind of a Kill ‘em All sort of debut that laid solid foundations and allowed for greatness to follow but indeed stands well enough on its own.

7/10

1988 - Leprosy

The band’s sophomore release just a year later showed immediate signs of improvement. The trimmed track list with more meticulously groomed songs (and a greater density of sick riffs) produced several live staples for the band, like the title track, “Left to Die”, and especially the ever-traditional concert-closer “Pull the Plug”. But there was more than just better riffs and more focus on perfecting the songs here. The production on Leprosy was clearer than the band’s debut the year before, and the writing was generally more sophisticated too, incorporating a bit more flashy technicality that would soon escalate to an echelon that would end up characterizing their sound more comprehensively. Soon-to-be vestigial characteristics of the debut album still remained: tons of wailing Slayer-sequence guitar solos, thrashy blast beats, the focus of palm-muted tremolo riffing, and more fantastical, brutal lyricism. But Leprosy presented these more mid-brow elements in a more impressive arrangement than its predecessor.

8/10

1990 - Spiritual Healing

My personal favorite of the band’s grittier first half of their career, Spiritual Healing was really just a more consistent continuation (to my ears at least) of the refined early death metal sound of Leprosy. The band were starting to develop a more signature style of riffing, as well as soloing that they would take with them into their next four albums. By now most of the gory detail was taking the backseat to Schuldiner’s psychological analysis of certain “Defensive Personalities”, parasitic religious manipulation by televangelists, and prenatal cocaine exposure. The more high-mindedness of Spiritual Healing also ushered in another ramp up in the band’s technicality that made the progression into the heady technical death metal of Human a rather natural one. The band’s last album in their so-called “traditional” or “brutal” or “classic” death metal era played around a lot more with the dynamic range of the genre and it really ran the gamut of what Death had done up to that point within that style of death metal and beyond, the title track being my personal favorite example of this ability the band had to contort the genre to fit their more expansive needs while keeping everything in the confines of death metal. It’s my favorite song on the album and of this era of Death’s career. At this point, Death had pretty robustly demonstrated their ability with the genre in its more primitive form, and evolved it along the way quite a lot at that, to the point where they really had nothing more they had to say with the style, an impressive feat after three albums. Sure they could have probably spun their tires in the mud for a few more albums (knowing now that Chuck Schuldiner sadly only had a little more than a decade left), but the direction this album had the band heading in was pretty apparent. The only question was if the band would take the leap into the upper echelons of technicality and explore the new frontier that they were headed toward. Thankfully for us, the band had plenty of ambition left in them. As for the last album of their first half of their career, it’s hard to find many complaints with, and one that capped off this era of Death in complimentary fashion.

9/10

1991 - Human

After reaching their peak with bruntly aggessive death metal, Death’s fourth album began a second act for the band, one that sought to elevate their style to a more progressive form of death metal. It was a change that was pretty strongly indicated by the direction the band had been heading in and the step up in technicality on Spiritual Healing. Human takes the solos and the fast-paced guitar passages and bass lines to new extremes that the genre had never seen before, and the lyrical shift to more heady, cerebral, existential themes fit well with the significantly increased musical complexity that the album introduced. The technically dazzling yet infectious riffing of “Together as One” and “Flattening of Emotions”, the still-tasty hooks of the former and “Suicide Machine”, and the tasty percussive rhythm of “Lack of Comprehension” made those songs live staples. The band were still kind of finding their footing with the compositional aspects of this new realm, but the grounding in the aggression of their previous work with the voyage into the techy unknown was a good thing to start with and a good way to explore some new sonic territory while safely tethered to what was effective for them previously that produced some pretty impressive results.

8/10

1993 - Individual Thought Patterns

Carrying forward the ambition for significantly increased technicality that began with Human on to their fifth album, Death were still getting the hang of things with Individual Thought Patterns, which isn’t all to surprising or something to impugn the band for given the difficulty mode that had selected to play the creative game on, and the band still made some significant improvements with the integration of the hyperspeed technicality into their sound. Even more than the subsequent Symbolic, Individual Thought Patterns made the technicality so much more of a focus where, to me, this was Death’s first bonafide technical death album. Human was definitely pretty technical, but on Individual Thought Patterns, Death cut the cord and let themselves float off into the dizzying cosmos of instrumental technicality and tailored their compositional practices to fit that need. If there was any contingent of fans struggling to keep up with Death’s progression or hoping for a scale-back to the more brutish early albums, they were left behind with Individual Thought Patterns, save perhaps for the consolation of more traditionally groovy closing track, “The Philosopher”, but rampant speed-fests like “Overactive Imagination” and odd-timed melodic groovers like “Trapped in a Corner” quickly became fan favorites. If there’s one thing Individual Thought Patterns lacked, it was balance, but that wasn’t going to be a problem for very long...

8/10

1995 - Symbolic

Ah, Symbolic, there’s not gonna be any surprising bucking of the trend or “bold” underrating here. In a catalog that so many fans regard as perfect, Symbolic stands out as the most common fan favorite, and for good reason. The album synthesized everything that had made Death such a force to be reckoned with in the death metal world. Weaving together the early era’s delicious primal grooves, the elevated technicality that had become a solidified facet of the band’s style, and their newly blossoming progressive inclinations, Symbolic remains the band’s most comprehensively representative and accomplished work, the best place for any newcomer to the legendary act to start, and the best album in their acclaimed discography. The song-writing is tight and interesting from start to finish, seasoned with both tasty riffs and captivating displays of technicality that enhanced the songs rather than the players’ appetites for indulgence, and kept consistently interesting with frequent tasteful dynamic shifts and surprising twists and turns. I would undoubtedly go on forever if I were to detail the brilliance of every song on here, the majestic melodies and winding structure of “Crystal Mountain”, the catchy commentary on mass surveillance of “1,000 Eyes”, the invigorating double-bass of “Misanthrope”, and the iconic riffing of the opening title track. Instead I’ll quickly highlight two songs that seem to go unnoticed that I find particularly beautiful for the unexpected compositional moves Death makes on them. The first is the song, “Without Judgement”, which abruptly drops its techdeath winding to hypnotize with a gorgeous and emotive melodic solo that seems rather uncharacteristic for Death that I just love, and the second is the closing track, “Perennial Quest”. It’s the longest song in the band’s discography up to this point, only to be just marginally eclipsed by “Flesh and the Power It Holds” on the subsequent album, and it embarks on a similarly proggy and melodic odessey to that of “Crystal Mountain”, but it’s the somber and mournful electric/acoustic outro that would soon become all too tragic for Death fans to listen to that concludes the album on such a heartfelt note in such beautifully fitting fashion. There’s no other moment like it in Death’s catalog, and it’s always a solemn, conclusive reminder of just how much light Chuck Schuldiner and Death brought to this world and how lucky we are to have albums like this. I’ll end my sentimental bit here and conclude by briefly summing up my thoughts on the album. Symbolic is Death’s magnum opus and a masterpiece among masterpieces that captures nearly everything that makes Death and death metal appealing and that had made the genre so predominant for decades since, and beyond being their best, to me, it is a perfect album.

10/10

1998 - The Sound of Perseverance

Death’s final album seemed to set them on yet another new musical course after the second run through the steady improvement over the course of a three-album cycle. The longest album of the band’s seven and including the longest songs in their catalog on average, The Sound of Perseverance took Death on quite the progressive joyride, and surprisingly (to me at least) it kind of split and confused some fans who had just gotten used to the band’s digestible technicality on Symbolic. Granted, I was just a little baby bitch boy when this came out, but personally I don’t see why this was such a shock to the system for so many fans (apparently), the band had always been pretty ambitious and this was a pretty logical next step for them to expand their continually expanding sound. The structures on the band’s seventh album are less conventional and more packed with extensive technical passages, and the band do pull out a good few more surprises than they ever did in any album previously, like the acoustic/electric guitar-solo instrumental “Voice of the Soul”. But The Sound of Perseverance is by no means any kind of contrived over-indulgence in ideas grander than what the band could accomplish or frothy wank-fest. The band was already developing a bit of a progressive bend in the previous three-album arc and they simply took it to the next level the same way they did with their instrumental technicality on Human. And fans did indeed vibe with plenty of songs on The Sound of Perseverance, with the impressively vocally high soaring “Spirit Crusher”, the angular and unpredictable “Scavenger of Human Sorrow, and even the lengthy, and indeed structurally confounding, prog-techdeath monolith “Flesh and the Power It Holds” making their way into the band’s setlists on their last tours. And of course the album ends on the well-earned, fun, high-octane cover of Judas Priest’s “Painkiller”, which finds Schuldiner incredibly nailing the songs high melody with his high-pitched death shrieking style (and finishing with never-before-heard clean vocals). For the reputation it has for eschewing balance for high-minded progness, The Sound of Perseverance is by no means a hard pivot from or unrecognizable from Symbolic. Its bold expounding upon aspects of their sound that already seemed pretty evolved while remaining musically engaging and not sacrificing what made their previous work appealing, and sheer magnitude and impressiveness of the band’s third venture into new territory again do sometimes make me question whether I like it more than Symbolic. While it did seem to pave the way for another new mind-blowing era of Death that death took away from us, The Sound of Perseverance has become a glorious and aptly titled swan song and a testament to the band’s and Schuldiner’s relentless ambition and, indeed, genius. Eternal cheers to Chuck and to Death.

9/10

And that’s it, eleven years and seven albums that continually revolutionized death metal and paved the way for so much of what we hear today. Anyone reading this of course probably knows most of all of this, but it’s still astonishing to think about how much Death did for the genre in such a relatively short time, and, for me at least, even having already been a pretty big fan of Death, listening to these albums from Scream Bloody Gore to The Sound of Perseverance, it reminded me more viscerally of the quality of the music and respected legacy of the band that I have always intellectually acknowledged and agreed with, which I figured I’d share here. If, somehow, you’ve come across this and you’re not into Death or death metal but you’re open to it and interested, you’re in for a treat. Put on Symbolic and just enjoy the trip down the rabbit hole.

[malmuses]

Hello Mal, how are you doing? I hope things have gotten better for you on the real life side of things. I'm going through some rough times too, so at least the company is good! I wanted to start by saying that your fics have single handedly gotten me through the most turbulent transition period of my life. I'm almost completely finished with your works on AO3 and your storytelling... *many many many chef kisses*. You are easily one of my favorite writers. I love your writing style, ...1/2

...2/2 your characterization, and how well thought out each story is. Each fic is like a decadent treat for my brain. I was curious, as a fellow writer, what your writing process is like. I've tried a few different methods but was wondering what works best for you! I hope the rest of your 2020 is full of peace and love. Also, I apologize in advance for the spam of comments you are about to receive on AO3. I finally have enough spoons for it!

I’m pasting these into one so I can put the answer in one place! (Tumblr is so awkward sometimes.) Sorry to hear you’ve been going through rough times too! There’s a lot of it going around this year, so I think we have plenty of company. In fact, I think the whole world just needs to lower its expectations and standards this year. Woke up? There’s the first gold star of the day. It's only up from here. I’m so glad that you’ve been enjoying my stories and so flattered that you say they’ve helped you so much...*insert feelings gif* I always tell myself when I write something: It’s okay if not everyone likes it. It’s okay if some people hate it. Nothing is for everyone. I just want one person to *love it*. Then I’m totally at peace. Now, if that person is just me? If I’m the only one that loves it? That’s also cool. Each story comes from a different place. My long-winded point, though, was that you basically just validated the existence of my entire catalog of fics so far, so thank you xD Your question about my writing process though - I’m happy to answer. But of course, first, I have to insert the usual disclaimer that as with most creative endeavors, there is no ‘right’ way to do it. I’m sure you know that, but sometimes I think people underestimate the depth of that truth. Each person has their own unique way of doing things. The struggle is sometimes finding the particular way, or combination of ways, that work for you. There’s definitely no harm in sharing what works for me though, in case anyone else can take anything from it. I’m someone who writes multiple things at once. Some people can’t do this or don’t want to, which I totally understand. For me, this is how I (mostly) avoid any kind of writers' block. If I’m stuck somewhere, I switch projects for a day or two. I do usually still have one main project I’m working on, but I usually have at least three others, often at various stages of the writing process. This keeps me in more of a flow state so I keep going with things, and allows me to write every day. It’s a habit. Now, I’m not saying breaks are bad, and everyone should write every day. I just find that for me, breaks should be deliberate. They should be true, chosen breaks, not because I just...drifted into one.

As you can probably tell from all that, I’m very much a planner and outliner. I outline...a lot. I’d be happy to talk more about my particular outlining process on Tumblr someday if anyone wanted. But, basically, I start with a general idea, then break it down into different story beats, so I can see if there’s something missing or too much of one thing. Then I fill in the gaps, then start breaking each overall ‘part’ of the plot into scenes, etc. Chapters come last. In terms of numbers (I get asked this one a lot), it does not matter how long your chapters are. What matters is that the chapter length feels right for the pacing of the fic, in my opinion, and I really think that is something that just comes with practice and knowing your own writing. Shitty advice maybe, but just the truth as I see it. A lot of it comes down to practice and finding what works for you.

Once I have an outline, I generally write linearly. Some people can jump around a lot. That’s a bit of a last resort for me if I’m stuck on something, or alternately if a scene steams into my head fully formed I will write it...with the understanding that I will probably have to change chunks of it when I reach it. It’s just the way it goes.

Now, when I say I outline in detail (there are literal spreadsheets)  that doesn’t mean that I magically only write exactly what’s in the outline and I stick to it. An outline can be a guide, not a rule. Sometimes stories take you places, and generally, I find it's better to listen to what the story wants. If my story starts going somewhere else or introduces something I don’t expect, I often revisit my outline and think, “Okay, how can I work in this new thing so that it follows the plotlines and arcs I already have? Am I adding to what I have or just distracting from it?” Most often those answers are obvious to me, but sometimes it’s good to ask someone else. A friend, a trusted beta. (I could talk a whole lot about betas and how that works for me, too, in addition to outlining).

I pretty much zero draft my fics. By that, I mean that I will start writing, and I won’t go back and do very much editing until the end. I will, each writing session, go back and read what I wrote the day before. Get into the zone. And sure, I’ll fix something if it jumps out at me - but that isn’t the purpose at that point, and most things won’t jump out, because it's too fresh. My brain knows what I meant, so it autocorrects for me. 

Leading into editing, it’s a two-step process for me. Once my zero draft is finished, I go back to the beginning and go through. This is where most of my developmental editing happens. (Another thing that probably needs more detail...different types of editing.) Once I’ve done that (usually during that pass, I’ve added words) I then put the fic aside. For as long as possible. At least a month, if I can swing that. (Bang deadlines sometimes cause issues if it's a fic for a bang, but I try). 

Once that time has passed, I can come back to it with fresh eyes. I’ll see the mistakes much more easily, then. This is where more intensive line edits happen, where SPAG happens, where I insert anything I made note of during my first pass if I needed to foreshadow anything more, that kind of thing. 

For a WIP, I do these edits chapter by chapter as it posts. For a Bang fic, obvious I have to do it all in one go. Due to the way I write, if you see me start posting a fic -- that fic is already finished, or in rarer instances (for work that was more time-sensitive) partway through the second draft or so. Oneshots are a little different (and I’ve had some oneshots that turned into chaptered fics of their own accord) in that they are just shorter and less intensive and often only have one main plot thread, so they’re a lot easier to do. I can get one drafted, edited and posted within a few days usually, depending on length.

How much do I write? Depends on the day. I have a high-stress finance job, two kids, and write a mixture of original fiction and fanfic stuff. So sometimes it's more than others. Bad day? Maybe 1,000 words. Good, average day? 3-6k. High pressure? Well, last year's DCBB I wrote in just under three days. It was 25k at that point. I have no tips for speed beyond learning to type fast, LOL!

Okay. I’ve probably bored you, and anyone else who had to scroll past all this, to tears. This is way too long. But even so, more specific questions, I’m happy to answer.

Good luck! Best advice? Just write. Write. Write. "Write a million words, then throw them away” is a changeable quote attributed to several authors but all it comes down to is...practice. Find your own vice and way of doing it. In a million words time, you will be a different writer than you are now, guaranteed.

Mal <3

[explodingcrenelation]

I'm sitting by an open window and the air is cool and soft, and smells of damp earth. The sky is brightly overcast. The toads are singing their high-pitched ethereal trills, and songbirds are whistling and chattering to each other. New leaves are sprouting on the bare trees in a haze of red, yellow, and bright green. Flowers are bursting everywhere—daffodils, tulips, trillium—and pink petals are raining down from the apple tree. It's a very soft and good kind of day. One where I'd love nothing more than to curl up in a blanket and read, enjoying the beauty of spring all around.

I guess I'm in the mood to do a bit of a personal update, so here goes. Get to know the blogger a lil bit for those of you who may be new around here. Some difficult stuff, some good stuff. Content warnings in the tags. Here we go.

First the hard stuff. Some of you may or may not know, a couple of years ago my dad died suddenly from a massive heart attack. I was present when he collapsed and gave him CPR as directed by 911 until the paramedics arrived. Dad made it to the hospital and they got his heart going again, but he didn't wake up after they stabilized him. We took him off life support a few days later when it became evident he wasn't coming back. He passed relatively quickly, but not easily, and it felt to me like I watched him die twice—once when he collapsed, and once at the hospital.

I've been seeing a therapist since then to deal with the trauma memories. Trauma, for those of you who aren't real sure how to define it, is usually an event characterized by "too much, too fast" plus some element of "something was 'supposed' to happen that didn't." In the case of my dad, for example, saving his life was put in my hands and I was totally unprepared for it (both physically and mentally)—I tried my hardest and I believed I should have been able to save him, but he died anyway.

Therapy started with EMDR (eye movement desensitization and reprocessing), which is hard to explain because therapists don't know exactly why it works, only that it does. It involves eye movement and vibration signaling on different sides of the body while revisiting traumatic memories. It's worth a search if you're interested in learning more. (And a side note, this is definitely the kind of therapy they should have shown Bucky receiving. This is exactly the kind of treatment he would have needed, and I'm high key considering writing it into a fic.) EMDR doesn't make trauma memories go away, but it does help to soften them (put them into past tense instead of present tense) and help your brain learn how to cope when they inevitably pop up.

Anyway, for me, EMDR graduated into talk therapy and then virtual sessions, getting further and further apart until I felt ready to strike off on my own. I finished up my sessions this month. Trauma wasn't the only reason I was seeing a therapist, but I went about as far with this particular therapist as I could since her focus was primarily trauma and grief. If I seek out another therapist in the future, it will be for issues surrounding more generalized depression, anxiety, and coping with queer identity.

Now that I've made that step, I'm feeling optimistic but also very tentative. Kind of like the cast has come off, but I still have to learn how to walk again. The wounds are still tender—especially since my dad's death isn't the only thing I've been trying to cope with over the last few years. I won't detail everything, because it's way too much. Suffice it to say I've felt so broken and stripped down to the bone for so long, and all of it exacerbated by our shared trauma and isolation caused by the pandemic.

So, yeah, it's a little bit scary being out here on my own after I've been used to the support of a therapist. The thing is I'm not all better simply because my therapist and I both agreed we've gotten as much out of our sessions as we could. I'm still going to have to work diligently to keep growing and to try to... process the things that are holding me back from, at the most basic level, properly expressing myself to others and taking care of myself. Beyond those basic goals, I want to keep growing and keep getting better so I can live more fully. If I can.

But I've learned that I need to take baby steps. Break things up into minuscule tasks. Do things that may be challenging, but are good for me, a little at a time. I'm trying to read more, chapter by chapter. Having a no-pressure book group with my friends has really helped on that front. I also rejoined OBOD (the Order of Bards, Ovates, and Druids)—which I started working with idk maybe seven years ago and then dropped when I first started really struggling with my health. My OBOD tutor is aware of my situation, supportive, and is totally okay with me working at my own pace—which I really need, since it's taken me about three months just to revisit the first three lessons. It's hard for me to get myself into the meditative, contemplative, spiritual, and creative space OBOD deals with, but once I'm there I can feel how much it feeds my soul. I'm also looking into doing volunteer work with a nearby nature preserve, once I have both my vaccinations and the organization starts accepting in-person volunteer work again.

So. I'm trying. And I'm trying to let that trying be enough.

I'm also trying to learn how to... cultivate my time better. To cut back on things that don't feed my wellbeing (like doom scrolling), and give myself more time for what I love, like reading, writing, drawing, and communicating with friends. The trick being to break up that time into manageable chunks. Because if I give myself a whole day of "writing time," for example, then I get overwhelmed. I need smaller, more clearly-defined goals I can achieve without totally exhausting myself every time I sit down to a task.

Nowhere to Go But Home is one of my creative projects I really, really want to get back to—for myself, not just for the people who want to know how the story ends. It's at the top of my list, and it's never really left my mind for the years it's been sitting idle, but there's just enough of it left to be truly daunting. It's not a small task, and it's one I'm going to have to undertake, like, one bite-sized piece at a time.

I made up a to-do list for the story earlier this year. And it includes some shiny long-term goals like formatting it into a free e-book for anyone who wants to download a copy. And today I feel like it's time to revisit the to-do list and start trying to set it into motion. I still can't make any promises about end-dates, but maybe if I start small—with tiny little weekly goals/updates, maybe?—I hope that'll be enough to get me going. The same way it's worked for my book club reading and for OBOD.

Anyway, it's on my radar. I'm circling it. And I believe returning to that story in particular—and some other stories I've had percolating—will be part of my long-term healing journey. I'm a bit scared, a bit tentative, still a bit raw, but I'm excited to try, and to see where the road takes me.

[nightwingshero]

Stay on the Path Chapter 1

Guys, I have to say, that I’ve been having so much fun with my AU’s, really. And I know I’ve taken it pretty easy here lately with my writing because it was honestly such a struggle for me. And while I’m still working on those AU’s....I am proud to announce that it’s here. That’s right, I’ve finally gotten around to finishing the first chapter to Wren’s canon! I have so many uncompleted chapters to this, but I’m so happy to be finally posting it!

A quick thank you to @xbaebsae and @chazz-anova for sticking with me and encouraging me to keep going with this. Honestly, without you two, this would still be a WIP. So, thank you!!!

This wasn’t how I imagined my first week to go. Hope County was small. Smaller than what I was used to. I hadn’t really settled in yet, I just showed up at the station eager to jump into an easy day of training. It didn’t faze me that Hudson barely acknowledged me or that Pratt was overly excited to show me the ropes. I just wanted to put my head down and do right; to make up for the “wasted time” I spent in college. That is, according to what my father believed. His dream was to have a son who would follow in the legacy of joining the military. Unfortunately for him, none of those things happened.

When I had arrived at the jail earlier today, my black hair was in a half-assed ponytail out of convenience. I had the sleeves of my uniform rolled up, but I had the first button or two unbuttoned. I didn’t do well with uniforms. Another reason why the military would never work for me. But when I walked in and began to get settled for the day, a U.S. Marshal had stormed in with a warrant talking about “the Seed family”. I honestly didn’t understand what the hell he was talking about. I mean, I had heard the name, but I kept to myself most of the time. I didn’t get out much and we hadn’t really been on patrol since I started. The Sheriff ushered him into his office as Nancy chatted us up over donuts and coffee. They had stayed in there for hours while Nancy asked me questions about my life, and she was beginning to become a friendly face.

But that conversation with the Marshal is what led me to the helicopter I was flying in tonight. I wasn’t the epitome of a perfect cop. In fact, this whole thing was new to me. I had experience shooting guns, sure. My father wouldn’t let that slip, so I started young. But I was new to the law enforcement career. It wasn’t my dream job, but it was something I could do if it meant doing what was right, if it meant setting my life right. So, I had went to the academy. The problem was that I knew people saw right through it, which was probably why the U.S Marshal, Burke, kept throwing me looks. I honestly couldn’t help it. That was my father, not me. It made me nervous that I was taking down a such a big operation, knowing that I had little to no experience in this field, other than the classes and little training I had to do in order to even get the position. I knew how to shoot a gun, my father taught me some survival skills, but that was it. The ramblings of a mad, bitter man didn’t do me much good here.

I just continued to look at my reflection in the window, my blue-green eyes stared back at me in wonder as I took in the beautiful landscape of Hope County from this height. I huffed and began watching the video that ended up bringing Cameron Burke here in the first place. It opened nicely with interviews with a pretty woman in a bar, a Father in a church, and a guy sitting on the couch. If you asked me, he looked like a rejected member of a rock band. It was a welcome of Montana at first, and then it began to speak of a cult, but before I could really get into it, the signal cutting in and out after it showed this “Joseph Seed” gauging someone’s eyes out with his bare hands. My stomach flipped uneasily, and I frowned as the signal went completely dead.

“Hey, Blake. Blake! You’re wasting your time. No signal out here.” Whitehorse called as I looked up at him and I caught the judging eyes of the Marshal before he went back to looking over his warrant.

“We’re crossing over the Henbane now.” Pratt informed us over the radio as I looked back out the window only to see a huge statue of a man with a beard and a man bun. I didn’t know how the hell I missed that when I was coming in, but all I could do now was stare at it. This guy has been busy.

“Oh fuck. There he is.” Hudson said with pure contempt in her voice.

“Crazy motherfucker.” Pratt commented back.

“Jesus….” The Marshall breathed.

“We’re in Peggie country.” I didn’t understand what Hudson meant by calling them Peggies, but her tone gave me chills. I knew that I heard a lot of people from around the town use it, I just never thought to ask. I thought it was a Montana thing. The Marshall ignored her and looked at Sheriff Earl Whitehorse.

“How much longer?”

“Just long enough for you to change your mind,” he turned his head to Burke. “so, we can turn this bird around.” I became more tense. I still didn’t truly understand what was really going on. Sure, I’ve heard some talk about the Seed family, but I honestly never paid attention to it. Everyone always had something to say about someone, so I always stuck to myself and I’ve lived that way for years. I didn’t know how long I was going to be out here, anyways. But they were just a religious family with followers, right? They couldn’t be that dangerous, could they? The video definitely suggested otherwise.

“You want me to ignore a federal warrant, Sheriff?” He asked icily. I raised my brows in surprise at his tone towards Whitehorse.

“No, sir. I want you to understand the reality of this situation.” He shifted and looked him straight in the eye. “Joseph Seed is not a man to be fucked with.” A chill ran down my spine at the weight of his words before he continued. “We’ve had run ins with him before and they haven’t always gone our way. Sometimes…just sometimes it’s best to leave well enough alone.”

“Yeah, well, we have laws for a reason. And Joseph Seed is going to learn that.” With that, he tucked the warrant away and looked out the window. It almost reminded me of a small child throwing a fit. Sheriff had an almost defeated look on his face before looking over his shoulder.

“Pratt, open up a call with dispatch.”

“10-4.”

“Whitehorse to dispatch, over.”

“Go ahead, Earl.” Nancy responded immediately.

“We’re approaching the compound, Nancy. Over.” My heart leaped when I realized we were close. I began to wish that I had stayed behind with Nancy. She brought in cookies earlier and anything would have been better than this situation.

“Roger, Sheriff. Still planning on going through with this? Over.”

“We are—unfortunately—still trying to talk sense into our friend, the Marshal. Over.”

“Alright. Lucky I’m not there. If you get into any trouble, you just let me know. Over.” I couldn’t help but smile at her response.

“10-4. Over and out.” It went silent until Pratt turned to Hudson.

“Maybe we should have brought Nancy along instead of the Probie. These Peggies wouldn’t fuck with her.”

“Pratt.” Hudson scolded. I rolled my eyes as I glanced back out the window. I didn’t need reminding how new I was to this; my nerves did that for me. The Marshal turned back to Whitehorse with a bit of a frown.

“Why do they keep calling them Peggies?”

“The Project of Eden’s Gate. P.E.G. Peggie. It’s what the locals call them. They started out harmless a few years back, but now they’re armed to the teeth. They’re looking for a fight.”

“…are you scared, Sheriff?” Burke asked incredulously. I studied the Sheriff out of the corner of my eye, waiting to hear his response, but none came.

“We’re here. Compounds just below.” Pratt said and I looked to see a decent sized church and some building surrounding it as we lowered.

“Oh, my Jesus.” Burke groaned as he studied our new surroundings.

“Damn.” I breathed out in shock at the sheer size on the compound.

“Oh man, this is a bad idea.” Hudson commented to herself.

“Last chance, Marshal.” Burke sighed for a second before replying.

“We’re going in.” I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until that very moment. My heart sank at Burke’s words. I had a bad feeling about this, and I didn’t want to be here. Anxiety clawed at my insides.

“Set ‘er down.” Whitehorse ordered and I wanted nothing more than to beg him to change his mind.

“Roger that.” The helicopter began to descend all the way down and I could see people armed with assault rifles and someone with a flamethrower that was burning a pile of wood. My uneasy feeling intensified. I knew we were on private property, so technically speaking, that was legal for them to do. I didn’t know what was on the Marshal’s warrant, but that definitely couldn’t be it. They were in their rights. As the helicopter landed, Whitehorse called out to Nancy.

“Dispatch, are you still there?”

“Yeah, go ahead, Sheriff.”

“If you don’t hear from us in 15 minutes, send in everyone. Send in the goddam National Guard if you have to. Over.” The blood in my veins went cold. What the fuck did I get myself into?

“Yes sir, Sheriff. I’ll be praying for you.” We took our headsets off and Whitehorse turned to us.

“Now listen up. Three rules. Stick close. Keep your guns in your holsters. And let me do the talking. Got it?”

“Got it.” Burke replied. But I wasn’t so confident. Everything was screaming for me to stay in the helicopter. I wasn’t welcome here; I could feel that, and I hadn’t even stepped out of the copter.

“Blake?” he called. I looked at him and gave him a quick nod, not trusting my voice. “Alright everyone, stay sharp. Let’s go.” I followed their lead as we stepped out of the helicopter, even though everything in me was screaming not to. Hudson, Burke, and Whitehorse began to make their way forward. “They’ll be in the church. Stay close.” I begrudgingly began to follow behind them. They were walking at a faster pace than I was, and to be honest, I lagged a little behind out of reluctance. All the people were glaring at me and they had way bigger guns than I did. I was allowed to feel a little nervous.

“Eyes open, these folks spook easily.” Whitehorse called from over his shoulder. Hudson slowed and began to walk alongside me.

“Blake, on me. Stay loose, huh?” she said, giving me a quick look. I guess it was obvious I was that nervous. I tried my best to hide it, but my heart was pounding. It wasn’t exactly comforting to have people with assault rifles glare at you. I just gave her a quick nod in response. Apparently, it was the only way I knew how to communicate right now.

“We didn’t do anything wrong!”

“What the hell are they doing here?” Voices rang out from the people as confusion turned to anger. If Hudson hadn’t been there, I probably would have tucked tail. This wasn’t something I was used to. Sure, I could hold my own. But I came here for a fresh start. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy being in law enforcement, but I felt like things had escalated quickly for me. I wasn’t about to pick a fight with someone that carried a damn flamethrower when all I had was a service pistol. I would do anything in that moment to trade with Hudson so I could have the shotgun.

“Be calm. Stay calm everyone. Just go about your business. This doesn’t concern you.” Whitehorse said as he continued to walk confidently through the gate.

“Sheriff, I don’t like this.” Hudson chimed in, saying exactly what I had been thinking. I was new, but Hudson wasn’t, and even she was picking up on it.

“Everything is fine, Hudson. Everything is just fine.” He reassured her. It didn’t feel fine, and I desperately wanted to believe him, but I wasn’t even sure if he believed himself.

“Jesus Christ, you’re wearing badges, aren’t you?” Burke spoke out condescendingly. I frowned and felt the strong urge to punch him. He spoke a lot like my father and that wasn’t something I really wanted to listen to. This badge meant nothing. It was a piece of metal. It was person that held that weight, not the badge, and people saw through that. Especially for those who didn’t care much for authority in the first place.

“Yeah, but they don’t respect badges much out here.” Hudson shot back, confirming my fears. I couldn’t help but smile just a bit at her sharp tongue. Subtle, but sharp. Maybe one day, we could actually be friends. Maybe.

“They’ll respect a nine-millimeter.” I looked at his back with disgust. I was liking this Marshal less and less by the second. I was tempted to ask him if he knew my father, and if not, they would make a great miserable pair. There was always some sort of power play, and I had a feeling that the Marshal enjoyed that badge a little bit more than he should and for the wrong reasons.

“Not every problem can be solved by a bullet, Marshal.” I spoke out. Hudson raised a brow at me as Burke shot me a glare which I returned. Hearing a clank behind me, I look over my shoulder to find them closing the gate behind us. I swallowed with another twist in my gut. That couldn’t be a good sign, and I had the heavy feeling of our fates being sealed along with it.

We finally came to a stop right in front of the church and I could hear them singing Amazing Grace. Curiosity began to outweigh the uneasiness I had felt. Burke must have been feeling eager as he was quick to just grab the door handle, but Whitehorse stopped him before he had a chance to open it.

“Whoa Marshal. Now we do this, we do it my way. Quietly. Calmly. You got it?” he asked as Burke let go of the door.

“Fine.” He huffed. The Sheriff turned to Hudson and me.

“Hudson, on the door. Watch our backs. Don’t let any of these people get in. Blake—on me.” I was only partially excited and that was just from the curiosity, which I knew was dangerous. It was my flaw. My curiosity always got the better of me, and I have been put in some bad situations because of it. The more logical side of me wished I could have stayed outside with Hudson and her shotgun. “And you,” he turned to Burke “just try not to do anything stupid.” I caught my laugh, but I couldn’t hide the smirk that bled through. Hudson turned and nudged me with her shoulder, and I could see the laughter in her eyes. I had a feeling we were going to get along. Friends, indeed.

“Relax, Sheriff. You’re about to get your name in the paper.” The Marshal replied as he put his hand on Whitehorse’s shoulder. It became very clear as to what drove Burke: Glory. Sheriff gave him grim look and turned to the door. Hudson took a step towards me, gaining my attention again.

“You’ll be fine.” She assured me quietly.

“Thanks.” I whispered back as I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. I couldn’t let my feelings get the better of me, no matter how unnerving they were. Whitehorse finally opened the door and you could see how old the church was. The singing came to an end, and I could make out the pews with a few people and a man standing on a platform in front. Light poured out of the window, giving him a glow that definitely seemed holy. Above us were dozens of empty bird cages, lightly swaying. Some had candles in them, while the others were dark and empty, all of them giving off a haunting beauty. They were strangely similar to the cage tattooed on the inside of my forearm. Too familiar. A shiver ran down my spine as I caught myself from tracing over it.    

“Something is coming.” His voice rang through the church, bringing me out of my daze. “You can feel it, can’t you? That we are creeping toward the edge…and there will be a reckoning.” The hair on the back of my neck stood on end as the faceless figure turned to us once the door shut behind me. He continued as we slowly made our way forward. “That’s why we started the Project. Because we know what happens next.” His voice rose an octave. “They will come. They will take from us.” Burke looked at Earl and he raised his hand in a calming manner. “Take our guns. Take our freedom…take our faith.” My heart leapt a bit as everyone in the pews began to stand as we passed them. I could see the tv monitors now that had scripture and the logo for their Project. This was Eden’s Gate. I became more nervous as I could feel the anger from their followers for our intrusion. I wanted to run and hide from their eyes. “We will not let them.”

“Sheriff, c’mon—” I wanted to scream at him, to tell him to shut up and not say another word. Abrasiveness was all Burke knew, and the last thing we need was for him to light a match in the powder keg this situation had turned into.

“Just hold on, Marshal.” Whitehorse warned.

“We will not let their greed, or their immorality, or their depravity hurt us anymore.” We were finally close up enough to see a man with no shirt standing above everyone else. He wore yellow aviators and his long hair was in a bun. His beard wasn’t the longest, but it wasn’t short either. His jeans were worn, and his chest was covered in tattoos and scars. Out of the corner of my eye, there were people standing to the side, but I could only just take in this man: Joseph Seed.

“Sheriff…” Burke’s rang like a warning, my eyes only darting to his back briefly.

“There will be no more suffering….”

“Do not pull that trigger. Remain calm.” Whitehorse responded to him lowly.

“No. Fuck this.” Burke whipped out the warrant and faced Joseph Seed head on. I inhaled sharply through my nose and moved forward to grab Burke, my fight or flight response urging me to pull him back like the idiot he was. Whitehorse quickly placed his hand on my arm, stopping me. I glanced at the Sheriff, catching his eye in confusion. I couldn’t put a name on the look he gave me, but I knew what he was trying to tell me. Burke’s idiot decision would remain his, not mine. I took a slight step back as my attention moved back to the Marshal.

“Joseph Seed! I have a warrant for your arrest on the suspicion of kidnapping with the intent of harm!” I furrowed my brow and looked at him. What? My heart was racing, but the blood drained from my face. I was supposed to keep my composure. It’s one of the things that they teach you. But I couldn’t help my face contorting in disbelief. On suspicion. We had barged into a dangerous situation with a warrant due to suspicion. I clenched my teeth in frustration at the Marshal for believing he knew better than the Sheriff. “Now, I want you to step forward and keep your hands where I can see them.” I held my breath as I kept my eyes on Joseph, waiting to see what he would do or how he would respond. He lifted his hands and regarded us.

“There they are…the Locusts in our garden…you see, they’ve come for me.” As he spoke, all of the people in the pews began to make their way in front and around us, protecting their Father from the threat we had become. “They’ve come to take me away from you. They’ve come to destroy all that we built!” The crowd became rowdier and more aggressive. I began to feel panicked and overwhelmed, the claws of my claustrophobia wrapping around my throat, but Burke and Whitehorse held their ground.

“Alright, now. Put your guns down. Put your guns down!” Burke responded as he reached for his gun. Whitehorse and I took a step back as I watched the Marshal in horror.

“Dude, what are you—?” I called out as my hand brushed my holster, but the Sheriff put his hands up in defense, cutting me off as he addressed the mob and Burke.

“Now hold on, do not touch that service weapon and stand down! Stand down! Everyone, calm down!” Whitehorse raised his voice to try and get through the yelling and protests of the people in front of us, but it went unnoticed. Joseph stepped down, his hands finding the shoulders of some of his men, and everyone began to quiet as they turned to him.

“We knew this moment would come. We have prepared for it. Go. Go…” And just like that, they turned and began to walk out of the church as a man began to come up from behind Joseph Seed. I watched, as he walked across the platform, with another man finding his way next to Joseph. I frowned as the two men looked each other, giving a quick exchange I couldn’t quite hear, but one of the people shoulder-checked me on his way past us, pulling my attention only briefly. “God will not let them take me.” I frowned as I watched them leave, curiosity biting in the back of my mind. With just a touch on a shoulder, he had completely defused the situation.

“I saw when the Lamb opened the First Seal,” Joseph’s voice had me turning my head back to him. His hands were raised up over his head as he spoke, but he wasn’t alone. Along with the two men was a young woman with light dirty blond hair and a white dress that now stood to his left. I kept my focus on Joseph, the others “as it were the noise of thunder, one of the four beasts say, come and see…”

“Step forward.” Burke sneered. Joseph dropped his hands and looked at the Marshal, allowing me a better view of the people that moved to support The Father. The man to his right had his arms crossed over his chest, legs spread as he stood firm. I knew immediately to be wary of him. Just size alone, he would be someone rough to go up against. The girl just stood there at ease, her green eyes light and scanning me with a soft smile on her face. She swayed, making her white dress move at the slightest movement. Then my eyes finally landed on the other man.

He looked younger than the other men, and I wondered if they were actually brothers. I couldn’t make out a lot from the distance, but he had dark hair and a well-manicured beard. He wore a trench coat and had a pair of blue sunglasses on his head. His eyes caught with mine as his brother eyed us, sizing us up. This guy seemed to have his hands behind his back, his head tilting back a bit, the lines of his chest flexing as more skin is revealed through his unbuttoned shirt, and a smug look on his face, completely at ease with no care in the world, and I couldn’t help but stare at him. But his smirk widened as he licked his lips, and then it occurred to me. He knew I was staring. I chided myself and I forced my eyes away as Joseph continued.

“…and I saw,” he pointed his finger in Burke’s face and I pursed my lips to keep myself from smirking. “and behold it was a white horse,” he looked at the Sheriff, before turning to me directly. I inhaled sharply at the unexpected attention. “And Hell followed with him.” A chill went down my spine as he refused to break eye contact with me. The heaviness of his words felt like it weighed down my soul. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. He then raised his hands and I stepped closer to him, unsure of what I was actually going to do. I broke eye contact only to find another pair of deep, dark blue ones staring at me with curiosity, smirk completely gone. I didn’t know what it was, I couldn’t really explain it, but the pull was there. He shifted a bit, his hands coming in front of him briefly as adjusted his coat, a quick roll of his shoulders that brought my attention back to his chest. I wanted to run up and…I don’t know. I felt like I was bare, that he could see right through me, and I didn’t know if that terrified or excited me.

“Blake,” Burke’s voice pulled me back to reality and I looked at him. “cuff this son of a bitch.” I frowned at his crass wording and glared while jutting my chin out, remembering how he pretty much fucked the entire situation. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the red head shift on his feet, throwing a glance at his other brother. Burke returned my glare tenfold, and I turned back to Joseph, not wanting to get into any more trouble I may have already been in. I hesitated, and as subtly as I could, I threw a look at the man in the trench coat again. I didn’t know why I was hesitating, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

“God will not let you take me.” Joseph said confidently and I looked back at him. Something twinkled in his eyes, and I wasn’t sure as to what it was, it seemed there was a knowing intelligence that told me that perhaps I wasn’t as subtle as I thought.  But his eyes were on me, too and so were everyone else’s. The last thing I wanted was for the red-haired soldier to come at me. He looked like he was ready to take on the world. I would probably weigh nothing to him. Fear danced across my neck, creating goosebumps in its wake.  

“Blake! Put the cuffs on him!” Burke snapped, making me cringe. I took a calming breath before I looked back at Joseph. I was conflicted. I didn’t want things to get violent and I had a very bad feeling that they wouldn’t just let us take him, the sting of my shoulder still there. I just wanted to keep the peace.

“Put down your guns. Take your friends. Walk away.” Joseph said calmly, soothingly. I bit my lip, it was so easy to fall into his voice, to second guess everything. It did sound tempting, to just walk away and go against Burke. I could. We could. We could walk out of here like nothing ever happened. “God is watching. And he will judge you for what you do in this moment.”

“Come on, Rookie…” Burke groaned as I looked over to the Sheriff, irritated at the nickname. We both didn’t want this, right? He didn’t want things to escalate any more than I did. Would he really let us walk out of here? I continued to study the Sheriff, searching for some sort of indication. Anything. He had a look of reluctance and he clenched his jaw. I had a feeling that this was going to have to be my decision and I bit of frustration whispered in the back of my mind. “God damn it Blake, seriously? What are you doing? Asking your dad for permission?” I flinched slightly at his word choice, but I kept my focus on Whitehorse, not taking the bait. The man in the trench coat scoffed as he shifted, my eyes following his movement only briefly.

“Sheriff?” I asked, and even I could hear the doubt and uncertainty in my voice. Earl sighed in response.

“We came here for a reason, Deputy.” He replied, his eyes full of defeat as his eyes fell from mine. My shoulders caved a bit at his response, but before I could do or say anything else, Burke had elbowed me out of the way, and I stumbled to the side from being taken off guard. Joseph frowned as his siblings shifted a bit.

“Fuck this. I’ll do it my goddamn self.”

I shot him a glare, my anger momentarily pumping through my veins. The urge to mouth off to him was strong, but I held my tongue, even though his actions were uncalled for and aggressive. I took another breath as I tried to shove my retort back down my throat. Now was definitely not the time for me to run my mouth, it would only make things worse, and like it or not, he was still a superior of sorts.

“Easy, Marshal.” Whitehorse responded quickly but remaining calm. I dared a glance at the Sheriff in shock, not expecting him to defend me. I exhaled shakily as I turned, watching as Burke looked ready to blow and I bit my lip. Burke sneered as he roughly pulled Joseph forward and tightly cuffed one of his wrists. I winced at the click, but Joseph didn’t even flinch or make a sound. I took a step forward with a frown.

“You know that’s too tight.” I said lowly, but my voice echoed through the quiet church. I could feel Burke glaring at me, but I didn’t really care. I just wanted this to be over. I could feel the Seed family drilling holes into me with their piercing blue eyes.

“Who cares?” Burke sneered at me. I looked down as I fought back the tears of anger that were threatening to humiliate me in front of my superiors and our audience.

“If this is how you’re going do it, then step aside, Marshal. Deputy Blake, cuff him properly.” Whitehorse asserted. Burke’s face twisted as he took a step away from Joseph and I took a calculated step forward, my eyes watching his every move. I didn’t trust Burke, badge or not. I turned to Joseph and began to redo the cuffs, making sure they weren’t cutting off his circulation. I looked up to catch his intense stare.

“Sometimes…the best thing to do is to walk away.” He whispered to me and my heart stopped as the blood drained from my face. I opened my mouth, but I didn’t know what to say. Not that Burke really gave me an option to.

“Jesus Christ. Let’s just fucking go.” He muttered and the Sheriff sighed. I put a gloved hand on Joseph’s shoulder, prepared to walk him out.

“You have the right to remain silent,” Burke groaned out his frustration and I expected him to stop me, but he didn’t. He knew we couldn’t just arrest people without reading them their rights. “anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you?”

“Yes.” Joseph replied softly.

“Let’s go.” Whitehorse turned, and began to make his way to the church doors with Burke beside him.

“Drag him if you have to.” Marshal called over his shoulder tauntingly.

“Dick.” I replied quietly to myself without thinking. A cough and a light giggle were the responses I got behind me as Joseph shot me a look from the corner of his eye. I chided myself and began to follow the two men while gently escorting the brother. Burke and Whitehorse opened the doors, and there seemed to be a start of an uproar. Hudson looked over at us in panic.

“We gotta get the fuck outta here.” She said as a truck of men pulled up with guns.

“Marshal take point. On the right.” The Sheriff ordered as I saw that the path we had taken before was closed off and sealed.

“On it.” I was honestly shocked that he took an order easily, but it was probably due to the fact that he had what he wanted, and to him, that was all that mattered.

“Stay on the path, Blake.” Whitehorse called out over his shoulder as I began to take everything in. People were starting to get more and more stirred out. Yelling out and asking about us taking “The Father”.  Amazing Grace began to play loudly, and dogs were barking viciously. Once or twice I got spooked, thinking that someone was going to grab me.

“Keep up, Rookie.” Hudson called out nervously. People began to pull out their guns.

“Stand back, I’m a Federal Marshal!” Burke yelled, but that didn’t stop them. They began to swarm us, and my pace quickened. Burke and Whitehorse then pulled out their service pistols in defense as we got closer the copter. Burke shot two warning shots into the air and Hudson and I rushed quickly to the bird. Hudson jumped on and ushered me forward, helping me situate Joseph. Pratt was freaking out in the pilot seat while Whitehorse and Burke were on my tail. We finally were able to get in after Joseph was taken care of, but someone grabbed Burke and he tried shaking them off. His followers began to climb on the helicopter. I looked around, panicked and in awe. I’ve never seen anything like this. Burke ended up shooting the guy in the head, and we both began to hastily buckle ourselves in. I gagged, cutting off the scream in my throat, at the sight of the blood and gore as my hands shook, and I could feel myself slipping into a full panic attack. My hand covered my mouth to keep myself from either puking or crying out as Whitehorse was trying to call Nancy from the front, but she wouldn’t answer. Joseph just sat there calmly with his head back and sang Amazing Grace. We couldn’t shake them off, even in the air, and then a man jumped up into the wings and blood splattered all over the windshield. My stomach lurched as alarms began to blare. We began to spin out of control, and I began to hyperventilate with the panic attack getting worse, but Joseph just kept singing.

“Brace for impact—" I couldn’t hear the rest of it as we hit the ground, everything turning black, and Joseph’s voice was still singing in my ears.

The smell of smoke was the first thing that caught my attention. Then it was Nancy’s voice over the radio that made me open my eyes. My body hurt, my head pounded, and my vision was a bit blurry. Across from me, Burke hung unconscious, which explained why my head felt the way it did.

“…This is Nancy, is everything okay? Over.” I looked to my side to see Hudson in a state that was no better than mine, but when I looked for the Sheriff, he was nowhere in sight. A headpiece just hung there, swinging back and forth. “Please, are you there? Are you there? Are you there, Sheriff?” I began to panic as I noticed that the seat Joseph occupied was now empty. Where was he? My heart started to pound, and I let out a whimper as I looked around. “Deputy Hudson, if you’re there, please pick up.”

“Amazing Grace…how sweet the sound.” Ice filled my veins and I began to desperately reach for the headset.

“Deputy Pratt, are you there? Are you there?” I almost cried when my fingers wrapped around it, and I pulled it to my face. A hand stopped mine, making me gasp in shock as Joseph Seed continued to sing.

“That saved…”

“Earl? Please, come in.”

“A wretch…like me...” he finished as he studied me. Tears were streaming down my face at this point, both from the smoke and the absolute terror I felt. Joseph only had a broken nose and a few bruises on his face and his yellow tinted glasses had made it through with on a crack in one of the lenses. I was too in shock to say a word.

“Are you there? Is somebody there? Please.” Nancy was becoming more frantic and my heart broke for her. Any words I was prepared to say choked in my throat as he leaned in closer, his eyes big and bright as the bore into mine.

“I told you that God wouldn’t let you take me.” He whispered and I exhaled shakily.

“Please…I need to know what’s going on.” Nancy pleaded as she began to cry. I wanted to scream and yell, to tell her that I was alive and to send for help. Send anyone. But Joseph reached for the headset and pulled the mic to his face while staring at me.

“Dispatch…”

“Oh, my God…” Nancy breathed a sigh of relief and I frowned.

“Everything is just fine over here. No need to call anyone.” There was a split second as I held my breath, waiting for Nancy to respond.

“Yes, Father. Praise be to you.” My heart sank at her words as I realized what that meant. She tipped them off. She was a part of it. A dry sob raked through my body in disbelief and heartbreak. Joseph leaned in closer as he let go of the headset.

“No one is coming to save you.” He whispered and another sob raked through me with new tears as the empty feeling of helplessness buried itself in the pit of my stomach. A car pulled up, gaining his attention and I watched as he left the helicopter. They rejoiced at the sight of their Father and he stood on the hood of the car to address the four men that stood before him.

“The First Seal has been broken. The Collapse is upon us. And we will take what we need. And preserve what we have.” I watched as Hudson and Burke stirred awake, coughing from the smoke. A sense of relief filled me. I wasn’t alone. “And we will kill all those that stand in our way!” I caught Hudson’s eye as Joseph focused his attention on us. “And these. The harbingers of doom will see the truth.”

“We gotta get outta here...we gotta get outta here.” Burke murmured, but I wasn’t paying attention to him. I was watching Hudson, making sure she was okay. I could see Joseph addressing his flock as she processed our situation.

“Begin the reaping!” Joseph yelled with his hands spread out to the sky.

“We gotta get out of here!” Burke said urgently and I watched as Hudson began to pull and struggle at the seatbelt. I turned and began to do the same as they approached Hudson and began to tug her out.

“NO!” I tried to yell as I reached for her, but it came out as a mere croak. We clasped hands briefly, before our grip was easily broken by the men dragging her. I tried pulling on her pants leg, but she was just out of reach. “Hudson!”

“Get the fuck off me! Pratt! Pratt!” she screamed, and I realized that they were taking him, too. They kicked as they fought against their captors.

“Jesus Christ, we got to get the fuck out of here!” The men turned back to us, but before they could reach in, the flames surged forward, blocking us from them momentarily. Burke dropped down and I felt a tiny bit of hope bloom in my chest.

“Help me out!” I cried at him as he took a second to collect himself.

“Let them burn. This is God’s will.  This is their punishment.” Before I could say a word, Burke took off running out of the bird and I watched in disbelief. He was leaving me behind. That little snake was leaving me to die. I began to struggle even more as panic made it hard to breathe, pulling at the buckle, begging and praying for it to come loose. I needed to run. I didn’t want to die like this. I wished more than anything that I could go back in time. I should have listened. I should have listened.

Sometimes it’s better to just walk away.

The buckle finally gave, dropping me on the roof. I winced in pain at the impact on my side. It was hot and hard to breath. Stray strands of hair clung to my face from the sweat and tears as I coughed a bit before getting to my knees and facing towards the woods. I had to run for it. I got to my feet as they finally caught on that we were free.

“Oh, whoa, whoa. Oh, hey! They’re getting away!” one of them yelled and I took a run for it. The sound of gunfire and bullets whizzing past me drove me to run faster than I ever have in my life. I dodged trees, branches, and logs as I made my way through unknown territory. I looked behind me briefly to see if anyone had followed, causing me to trip forward and hit the ground hard. I was shaking and my limbs felt like jelly. I was dizzy from the blood rushing to and from my head, and I vomited from the turning of my stomach. I steeled my resolve and stood again. I had to keep going. If I stayed there, I was going to either get caught or killed. Maybe both, if Joseph’s words rang true. All I could do was keep stumbling forward as I wiped my mouth on the back of my gloved hand.

It was super dark out, but the moon was bright enough to allow me to at least see my surroundings. I could see a cabin on my left, and I ducked down to avoid being spotted. I don’t know what had happened, but my pistol was gone. I was unarmed and definitely in over my head. I could hear them shouting in the distance, hunting us down. My radio came alive, making me jump clean out of my skin.

“Hello…? Anyone hearing me? Hello? It’s Burke…Hello?” I had a mix of emotions as his voice came through. Relief that he had made it out alive but pissed off that he had left me behind. I also didn’t want to be out here alone, so knowing that he was out here too made me feel just a bit better. “I think I lost them. I see a…a trailer nearby. It’s next to a long bridge. I’m gonna try and get inside…if anyone’s still out there…Listen, if anyone is still alive, meet me there.”

I breathed a sigh of relief as I spotted the bridge through the trees. He wasn’t far. I picked up my pace as best as I could and made my way to the steep incline, my muscles protesting in agony. Once I reached the top, I bent over to catch my breath. I almost cried in relief at the sight on the trailer once I started to walk over the bridge, but I honestly didn’t think I had any tears left. Exhaustion threatened to seep in, but I forced myself to keep going. I jogged lightly the closer I got, the trailer door a beacon of safety. I pushed it open and turned just as Burke yelled and grabbed my neck. I screamed in response as I tried to push him away. His eyes widened in realization and his grip loosened.

“Jesus Christ, Blake. I’m sorry…I thought they got you. Come on.” He stumbled back and motioned for me to follow him through another door. “Check the room.” He pointed to a bedroom on our right and as I looked in, I could see pictures and posters all over the walls. Pictures of the Father and Eden’s Gate. As I turned to take in the rest of the house, I realized how much of a mess it was. Burke was sneaking around, like some sort of burglar and had it been any other scenario, I would have laughed. He turned to me, pale and panting. The ashen tint on his face showed just how freaked out he was, which wasn’t reassuring in the slightest.

“Oh Jesus! I had no idea.” And I just stared at him. No idea? I wanted to yell, to scream at him that Whitehorse had warned him, but I didn’t really have the energy to do so, the panic attack and adrenaline slowly starting to wear off. Whitehorse told him that we shouldn’t do it, but Burke wanted the glory. His pride was more important. He turned to the wall of framed pictures and pointed. “Fuck!” He approached the wall as I finally caught sight of what he was looking at. It looked like a family photo that was professionally done, but Burke yanked it off the wall before I could get a closer look and looked me in the eye. “We’re putting this whole family away. All of ‘em. Fucking lunatics!”

He threw the frame down in anger and stomped away. I took a step closer to the table to actually get a look of the photo. Joseph sat in a chair in the middle, back straight with no emotion whatsoever. The girl sat on the floor to his right, with her arm on his leg. The red-haired brother stood behind Joseph with a red sniper rifle in his hands, and I couldn’t help but praise myself for not doing anything too stupid in the church. I couldn’t say the same about the Marshal though. Lastly, the youngest brother leaned against the back of Joseph’s chair with a book in his hand.

“We’re going to get out of this, Rookie. First things first, we gotta arm ourselves.”

“What’s the plan?” I finally asked as I looked back up at him and followed. I didn’t want to follow him, deep down, but I didn’t have a choice. I was way over my head, and I knew I couldn’t get out of this alone. He picked up a rifle and shoved it in my hands before grabbing the pistol for himself. I followed him as he approached a window and crouched down.

“Alright, here’s what we’re going to do.” He blew on the ammo cartridge before slapping it into the butt of his pistol before holstering it. “There’s a road out there. We’re gonna take it, and head Northeast. It’s probably only a few hours back to Missoula. And then,” he turned and grabbed my shoulder. I bit my tongue from biting his head off for daring to touch me. “we’re gonna come back here with the damn National Guard. And we’re gonna take out the rest of these—"

He was cut off by a couple of voices outside the trailer. I frowned. How did they find us so quickly? My eyes widened as it dawned on me. They took Hudson and Pratt, which meant they probably had their radios, too. If I had heard Burke’s message, then they had as well. I clenched my jaw in frustration. I wanted to strangle the Marshal for his constant stupidity, him and that joke of a warrant. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. I looked at Burke with a twist of my mouth. “You idiot—"

“They came around this way!”

“Check inside the trailer!”

“Shh!” Burke whispered lowly as he motioned towards the other window. I gave a quick nod before I began my way over.

“They’re in there!” someone yelled as a rock was thrown through the window. I covered my face as glass exploded, landing on the carpet. I looked out to see a bunch of men running around, taking cover, and shooting at us with their own rifles. Great. Way to get your feet wet, Wren. Burke quickly ran to the other window on my side and began to return fire. To say the least, I was fucking terrified. I have done a lot of shit in my life, but I had never done this.

Aiming out the window, I tried to only land wounding shots instead of kill shots. I wasn’t prepared to take a life. I put my head down, made it through the academy, did everything I had to in order to get my life back on track. To get away from the shitty past. This wasn’t something I had asked for. The AR was digging into my shoulder, and I wondered briefly if I was holding it incorrectly. Burke cursed under his breath before jumping out through the window. As I returned fire, a stray bullet hit a red metal canister, causing an explosion that blew people off their feet.

I took advantage and followed Burke, trying to stay close enough to keep both of us protected. As much as I couldn’t stand him, I knew we were better off sticking together. The rush and panic were back, my heart pounding hard in my chest. Burke dashed, yelling me to cover him, as he ran towards a white truck.”

“Cover you with what?!” I shrieked, paranoid that he was going to take off without me, so I run towards the truck after him.

He was cursing, trying to get the thing started, throwing me an incredulous look as I yanked open the passenger door. “I told you to cover me!” he hissed.

“And give you a chance to leave me again?” I snapped, throwing him a look, finally losing my patience and giving into the fear that was pumping in my veins…I wasn’t keeping my mouth shut anymore, not after the shit he kept pulling. “Not likely.”

He grumbled something about not doing it again with a half-assed apology, but I wasn’t paying attention. I was watching the next wave of cultists running towards us, clinging tightly to the gun in my hands. With a victorious yell, the truck started just as a bullet ricocheted off the door next to my head. I quickly ducked in the cab of the truck as he slammed on the gas.

“Up ahead, watch it!” Burke yelled and I looked up to see two of them shooting at us, but Burke just pressed the gas harder. “Hold on!”

He rammed the truck into the chain-link gates, tearing it down as the yelling and gunshots faded behind us. I was drenched in sweat, my breathing quick. “Holy fuck.” I breathed out, one hand gripping on the door handle and the other cradling my rifle.

“You ok?” Burke asked, throwing me a glance. I gave a quick nod before his attention went back to the road. “Nice work back there. I’d be dead if it weren’t for you. We gotta get back…but we gotta be smart. We don’t know who we can trust…fucking Nancy.”

“Fucking Nancy.” I echoed with malice. I hadn’t gotten super close with Nancy, but her betrayal still stung. She was so nice, praising and talking about the niece she was so damn proud of all the time. She welcomed me into that station with open arms.

“Oh no…oh no, they got the roads blocked.”

“They what?” My eyes widened as I took in the amass of trucks and concrete blocks. I could see barbed wire and stop signs in the back of a few. The cultists turned to us, and opened fire. “Oh shit!”

“Shoot!!” Burke shouted at me, and I pulled the rifle up, aiming out of the window. Of all the things I expected from a small town, this definitely wasn’t one of them. I wanted to cry, curl up in a ball, and set on the floorboard of the truck. I was done with this shit, but I tried my best to defend us as Burke drove like a damn madman.

“For the Father!” A man shouted as two white trucks showed up out of nowhere, shooting at us.

“Behind us, keep them off us!” Burke yelled.

The panic was starting to spread again, from the yelling and the gunfire, it was just all too much. And then I see a burst of red on a windshield, the white truck swerving and hitting the other. But all I could think of was the blood. I killed someone...I just fucking killed someone! My chest pulled painfully as my eyes swam with tears.

“Jesus Christ, we can’t get around it! Hold on, we gotta get off the main road.” Burke jerks the truck roughly, knocking me back from the window and my thoughts. I gasped as he ran through a fence, pieces of metal and wood flying. “They keep coming, Blake! Get back out there!”

“How about you focus on not getting us killed?” I snapped as he flew off a hill, the truck slamming against the ground.

“Could say the same to you!” he retorted. “There’s a case of dynamite in the back of the truck, use it!”

“What?!”

He didn’t answer as I popped my head back out, eyeing the back to see an open wooden box. The sticks of dynamite were everywhere, strewn around from all the momentum, so I could only reach a few without falling. Burke swerved, and I gripped the truck tighter, praying to whatever higher being there was that I wouldn’t die like this.

The shooting continued as I, finally, made it securely back into the somewhat-safe interior of the truck. Reaching into my back pocket, I pull out a metal litter as my hands shook violently, flipping the top and lighting one of the sticks to throw. I wouldn’t normally condone this kind of thing, and nor have I ever done this, but my instinct to survive was above everything else. My body was just reacting, and my mind was still miles behind, with that red stained truck.

I would never claim to have the best aim in the world, but trying to throw something out of a moving vehicle, hanging out of the window, with a bulky rifle against you…well, it wasn’t the best. Most that I threw went off too late or landed too far away. Burke’s curses joined the choir of gunfire and the shocks on the old truck as it rumbled along. Then it was joined by an odd sound that I didn’t recognize.

“John’s here!” Someone yelled.

Who the fuck was John?!

“Is that a fucking plane? Don’t tell me they got fucking air support!” Burke yelled, slamming his hand against the wheel.

My face twisted in confusion as I tried to adjust my rifle, but I froze, eyes wide, as I saw what Burke was screaming about. I didn’t know much about planes, and I would never pretend to, but the black one I saw was gorgeous. Or at least, from what I saw of it before it started shooting at us, coming a little too close for my comfort. Quickly flipping off the plane, I went back to fending off Peggies in trucks and ATVs, people shooting us from the side of the road. The plane made another round, Burke doing what he could to avoid getting us killed.

“Motherfucking psychopaths!!” Burke screamed as he drove straight towards a roadblock. “Motherfucking Peggies!!”

“Burke, we’re not going to make that!” I yelled over the chaos. The truck was already trashed, I wasn’t sure how much it could take, but it wasn’t just that. It was the fact he was going to crash us into a fucking roadblock. I tried hard to keep the flashbacks at bay, fear overcoming the adrenaline.

We hit it head on with a huge bang, but somehow, we were still going. Burke straightened out, slamming the gas again to speed back up as we approached a bridge. Relief and hope dared to spread in my chest until a truck cut in front of us, laying down heavy fire. What the fuck was wrong with this county?!

“You’ve gotta be kidding me?!” he roared beside me.

“Is that…what is that?!” I screamed. “A mounted machine gun?”

He was about to answer until the color drained from his face. “Oh no—”

I turned just in time to see a glimpse of the plane and the explosion quickly after. I screamed as the Marshal jerked the wheel, launching us right into a free fall. My heart stopped and my breathing was caught in my throat as we nosedived towards the river. Flashes of memories buried deep flew in my mind: broken glass, the deployed airbag, the pain, the blood…

Gasping quickly, the truck landed hard in the water, the cab filling quickly through the open window. I’m too shocked to move at first as I watch Burke shoot out the windshield with his pistol. He moves forward, and I reach out to grab him in desperation, but he’s already swimming away. I clench my teeth in rage as I finally free myself from the seat belt.

I’m running out of air as I swim up, breaching the surface with a loud gasp, trying to breathe in as much as my lungs can handle. It’s a struggle, but I make my way to the riverbank, my muscles screaming. I whimper as I crawl, my body finally giving out from under me, and I collapse, rolling on my back. My focus is in and out as I fight to stay awake. The adrenaline, the panic, everything has left me numb and cold, pushed way past my limits.

“Let me go!!! I’m a federal Marshal—”

Burke’s words are cut off with the sound of him getting hit with something a distance away and I scoff. Fucker deserved that. “This one needs a little faith…look along the banks, there was another one. We need to take them to the Father.”

I groan as an older man came into view. My vision was too blurry to make out any features and I cough then take another deep breath. I don’t have the energy to say a word to this man, let alone fight him when he starts to drag me away. The last thing I see before my vision goes black is the starry night, wondering where the plane went.

[lovemesomesurveys]

a foxandforest original © august 2021

When was the last time you did something that you’ve never done before? What was it? Hmm. It’s been awhile since I’ve done something out of my norm; I can’t think of something at the moment. My life is very routine.

Are there any slogans or mantras meant to motivate employees on display at your place of work? --

Has your favorite actor ever been stuck to a project you dreaded watching (e.g., stuck on a bad TV show for years)? Nah. Alexander Skarsgard does good stuff.

When you are in a group do you more often find yourself wishing people would ask you more or fewer questions? I don’t want to be asked a ton of questions or have the focus on me, but I also want to feel included, ya know? I don’t exactly want to be ignored.

Now that you are an adult, which situations make you feel most like a grown up? Which situations make you feel like you’re still a child? Ha, don’t let my age fool you into thinking I’m a “grown up.” It kinda trips me out that I’m 32 and considered an adult. I feel like I’m behind in life and stunted in some ways because of some of my experiences. I don’t know, it’s just weird. I’ve seen a quote that says something about looking for an adult and realizing you are one, ha. Anywaaay, um I guess the whole having to pay bills and try to be responsible is grown up stuff I do. As for feeling like a child, I have to be dependent on others, especially this past year, I get moody and whiney, I’m stubborn, kinda innocent-like, I still enjoy some things from my childhood like TV shows and movies... stuff like that.

Pretend you work at a bookstore. Which books are your 4 “staff picks” that will go on a shelf for customers to see? What little blurb will you write about each book as to why you chose it? So, I’ve been obsessed with the authors AJ Rivers, Willow Rose, Mary Stone, and now Elle Gray, so I’d pick a book from each of them. It’d be hard, though, because Willow and Mary have a few different series and I’ve been enjoying them all. 

When you were a child did you wish you were named something else? What sort of fantasy life did you imagine for yourself if you’d only had this other better name? Nah, I was fine with my name and don’t think I really gave it much thought. It was just my name and that was it. If you have been working remotely or have ever taken a class or participated in a project remotely, have you noticed any significant differences between remote work and in-person work? What would be your ideal working setting? Some classes I definitely did better in-person than online and others were more convenient online and worked out fine. It really depended on the subject. Like math, for instance, I could not do online. I’ve always struggled with math and needed the in-person lecture and help. I also struggled with some online courses because a lot of them were set up so everything was just due at the end and you work at your own pace, which could be nice, but I need structure and deadlines otherwise I put things off and it piles up all at the end. So yeah, it really just depends.

Are you a plant person? How do you feel about the trend of owning many, many houseplants? Not at all. 

What is something you do that makes you feel alive? Something you do that causes “flow,” or for you to lose track of time and other distractions? Haven’t felt that in a long time. I feel like a robot or like I’m on autopilot just going through each day doing the same things day in and day out. Rinse, dry, repeat.

Do you feel like you act differently among people/peers you’d like to impress? For better or worse, what are some traits of yours that tend to come out when you’re trying to seem likable? I try to be easy going and go with the flow, I guess. I keep things light. I try to keep the focus on them and less on me and not get into anything serious. 

What are three things/interests you are currently into right now? >> Guild Wars 2 (again), the show Reservation Dogs, SaltFactory videos.

What are you sick of hearing about? Hmm.

What was the last small thing that really inspired you, that jumpstarted you to create or gave you a great idea? >> Yeah, I'm still waiting for that. <<< Ha, same.

Do you travel well or poorly? Do you know anyone who always seems to get sick and very exhausted and unwell during travel? I can get irritable and moody if it’s a long trip and I do get exhausted quite easily. My health situation can make things difficult as well, especially my current situation. I really try not to make it difficult, though, and put a damper on things. I try to be easygoing and go with the flow and want the people I’m with to have a good time. I keep a lot to myself and just keep marching forward, but yeah it can definitely be hard for me. All that be said, I still like to travel. 

What are some things that you enjoy but you have no practical use for in your own life (e.g., baby clothes for a non-parent or school supplies for a non-student)? Do you still browse these items at stores? >> School supplies is definitely one, I love looking at the Back-To-School stock come August. <<< Yeah, I’m the same way. That’s the only thing I miss about being student, ha. It was so fun picking out new clothes and supplies. I felt so productive, too.

Do you wish that you had more followers on any platform? Do you even pay attention to how many likes/comments/followers you have? Nah, that stuff doesn’t matter to me.

How much joy do you derive from celebrity/political schadenfreude? Do you think there’s a point when enjoying watching successful people topple goes too far? I admit celebrity gossip and entertainment can be, well, entertaining, and it can take the focus off your own stuff for a bit, but it can also get to be ridiculous and just too much. Plus, these are real people, with real feelings, so they go through hardships and hurt, too, and I think some people forget that. The worst part is it’s being blasted all over to the world and everyone is scrutinizing and judging. I used to keep up with that kind of stuff and was really into it, but as I’ve gotten older I’ve started to lose interest and don’t find it as entertaining anymore.

Is there anything, such as a mantra, quote, or thought in general that you seem to tell yourself every single day - even if it's random and meaningless? No.

[aethelflaedladyofmercia]

The Whole Truth - 5

(As promised - some answers this time, as well as angst, and fluff, and a bit of sap. It’s a long one, so get comfy, here or on AO3. Enjoy!)

Thursday

Aziraphale paced the shop, wringing his hands.

What on Earth had he been thinking yesterday? With any of it?

Crowley would think he’d gone mad. Probably already did.

Had he actually touched Crowley’s arm during dinner? Repeatedly? Let their knees brush together under the table? Ordered a shared dessert? His stomach hurt to think of it.

Not that the cake hadn’t been lovely, but he’d insisted on feeding Crowley a bite and, oh –

He pressed his hands to his mouth, wanting to remember every moment, wanting to forget entirely.

What if Gabriel had come to check-in? He’d said Friday, but it was always a possibility, always. He would have caught them, sharing a table, laughing over cups of coffee about humans they’d known through the ages, leaning close, so very close. Or walking back to the Bentley, hands brushing against each other, smiling like…

He picked up the telephone for the third time this morning, desperately dialing Crowley’s flat. He needed to tell the demon not to come. Needed any excuse to keep him away, or he…he didn’t know what he’d do.

But again, the line rang, and rang, and the foolish machine picked up, asking him to leave a message. He waited for the tone, then snapped, “Crowley. It’s me again. Do not come. Don’t – you need to stay as far from me as possible. I can’t—”

The roar of an engine, the muffled sound of Queen, and he looked up just in time to see the long black car stopping in front of his door.

A moment later, Crowley stepped out, another bag from the bakery. And…were those flowers?

It was worse than he expected. Aziraphale backed away in horror.

“Angel?” Crowley called through the door. Was it too late? Could he hide in the back room? “My hands are full, could you…?”

This shouldn’t be hard. Open the door. Tell him you don’t want to see him today. Don’t accept the lovely flowers. Don’t thank him for the pastries. And whatever you do, don’t pull him through the door, slam him against the wall and –

Oh dear.

He opened the door a crack. “Crowley. I. Oh, did you…change your hair?”

Crowley tossed his head, and now all his hair was loose and free, gleaming in the sun, and of course one strand got caught across his face and Aziraphale wanted to tug it free, to set it in place, to run his fingers all through that dazzling mass of red until—

“Just a bit. Thought I could use a change. Do you like it?”

“I do, I really do.” He slapped his hand over his mouth.

Crowley smiled, and it wasn’t sarcastic, it was genuine and heartbreaking. “Good. I – I thought you might. I, um, I got you these.”

Aziraphale’s eyes fell on the white-and-yellow bouquet. “Daisies? Oh, I adore daisies. So bright and warm…”

“Yeah, I know. And they, um, remind me of you.” Crowley shuffled his feet, still on the doorstep. “I thought, if we’re going to be poring over that book for two more days, might as well brighten the place up a bit.”

“I.” Send him away. “I thought.” Send him away right now. “I don’t believe I…invited you.”

If the smile had been heartbreaking, the way it fell nearly destroyed Aziraphale on the spot.

“You. Aziraphale. You never invite me, I just…come.”

“I know.” He tried to keep his face straight, his resolve firm. “And that’s…that’s very much the problem, isn’t it? You just show up whenever you wish, unannounced, regardless of how I feel, or what I’m doing or – or who might be visiting!”

“Is someone there now?” Was Crowley even aware of the way his whole body tensed when he worried, coiled, preparing to spring into action? He wasn’t a fighter – he always preferred to flee and hide – but somehow any time his mouth pressed into that line of resolve, Aziraphale just felt safe. “Do you need me to cause a distraction? Just say the word.”

It was the perfect out. Tell Crowley Gabriel was here, that he had it under control.

“No. I’m alone.”

“Then what’s the problem? I told you last night I’d swing by as early as I could. Yes, I should have called first, but it’s not that big a deal, is it?” He moved as if to step through the door, though Aziraphale still stood in the way.

“Yes, it is!” Aziraphale pushed the door almost completely shut, so he could see nothing but Crowley, and the flowers. “It is very much a ‘big deal.’ You never think about these things, Crowley, and I have to worry on my own. You never change. What would you have done if Gabriel were here? Hmm? Do you even remember the time you almost walked straight into him, or did you conveniently forget that as well?”

“Of course, I remember.” Crowley’s voice was a low growl. “But you just said he’s not, so it does not matter.” He took a step back at least. “What’s he going to do, anyway? Put a bad comment on your quarter-century review?”

“He might! He might do a lot worse than that! Do you think anything like this—” he gestured between them “—this has ever happened before?”

“I don’t know, Angel. What is this? Tell me that!” But under the anger there was a note of desperation, and Aziraphale had to gnash his teeth to keep from saying something that would make the situation worse.

“Crowley,” he finally managed, sounding half-strangled even to his own ears. “I don’t want you to come in.” There was a strained silence, broken only by the crinkle of the paper around the flowers.

“Angel. Just tell me—”

“No, Crowley. Don’t ask me any more questions.” He was terrified of what answers he might give. “Just leave. Go – go far away, and do not contact me until I ask you to.”

“Fine.” The bundle of daisies tumbled to the step. “Fine.” Crowley strode back to the Bentley faster than Aziraphale had ever seen him move. “And don’t think I’ll be standing next to the phone when you call. I have better things to do with my time than wait for you.”

“I doubt that!”

But he was gone.

Aziraphale let the door drift open, as the flowers scattered and blew away in the wind.

--

He glanced up from the book, blinking blearily at the light. It must be afternoon by now.

Aziraphale didn’t remember much after the fight with Crowley – he rarely did, not for the serious fights – and the cup of ice-cold tea and stack of notes four centimeters thick were the only real indicators that time had passed at all.

He folded his arms across the book, leaning against them, breathing in the spicy smell. Tried not to think about how much he missed Crowley’s jokes and snide comments, the way he would bend over Aziraphale’s shoulder to look at the page, breath warm on his cheek.

“Don’t think about that. He wasn’t helping.” He scolded himself. But, really, for all his notes, he’d contributed as much to this translation as Crowley. Aziraphale was getting nowhere, and he only had another day.

What would Crowley do, if he were here?

Terrible question. Better to ask what Gabriel would do, or one of the Scribes of Heaven. They would surely have some wonderful idea for a new angle to attack the text from that would force it to reveal its secrets, and not a moment too soon.

But Crowley would suggest going for a walk. Feeding the ducks. Getting something to eat.

It took ten minutes of searching to find a satchel, just the right size for the book. He slid the heavy tome inside and headed out.

--

“Seven, huh?” Eliza smiled, sliding the last tiropita into the customer’s bag. “Guess you like these.”

“Oh, yes, they’ve been my favorite mid-afternoon snack for the last two millennia.” The customer – she recognized him as the old man from the bookshop down the street, the one that was never open – seemed startled by his own joke. “Only they’ve been rather out of fashion in this part of the world until recently, so it’s nice to have them available again.”

“Right,” she smiled, punching the order into the till. “Well, I hope they’re as good as you remember.”

“Oh, the modern recipe doesn’t use nearly enough honey, but I find I enjoy them nonetheless.”

Weird bloke, she thought, fighting to keep her customer-service-smile in place. Probably harmless, though. “Going for a walk?”

“Yes, I’ve been rather caught up in a project, but I’ve made no progress on my translation for several days. I’m hoping a change of scenery will help.”

“Oh, translation, huh?” she showed him the total, and he handed her a few notes. “I’m taking German this year. Supposed to help with the grad program I want. What’s yours?”

“It’s a text of no known language that foils every attempt at decipherment,” he said as she counted out the change. “Furthermore, there is a curse upon it which could destroy half of London if tampered with.”

“Yeah.” She handed over the coins and bag, trying to make sense of that one. “My sister said the same thing about her Latin class, but she’s always been a bit mad.” Eliza glanced out at the sunny street, wishing her shift would end already. “Enjoy the weather.”

“I hardly think that possible, as I had a terrible fight with a very dear friend this morning, and I don’t believe he will talk to me again for quite some time. I would much rather it were raining, to suit my mood, but the nearest storm clouds are over France. Summoning them now will almost certainly have unforeseen consequences to the regional climate. Good day.”

He backed out of the shop and hurried up the street. Definitely weird. “Can I help who’s next?”

--

Up and down the streets of Soho he walked, unable to stop himself from talking.

Waiting for the light to change, he told a family how the Trojan War wasn’t entirely his fault, but things had gotten rather out of hand. “I never should have let him tell me the apple would make a good prank. My word, did everyone take it so seriously.”

Wandering past the duck pond, he explained to a confused group of students that, had he really known who Dante was, he never would have given the job to Crowley. “I just thought, poor chap needs a vacation, he’d had a terrible century, might as well spend a few weeks in Italy, all he has to do is go drinking with a poet and cheer him up a bit. And, frankly, if my orders were just a bit less Ineffable maybe I would have seen this coming!”

Sitting on a bench with an older couple, he tried to describe the outfits he and Crowley had worn in that church in 1941, though the couple seemed confused and kept interrupting to ask questions about the flowers or guests. “No, there weren’t any guests, just these awful people I thought I knew. But Crowley arrived and got me away from there, oh it was really something. Dancing all down the aisle.”

Leaning against the wall outside a bar, he pleaded with every passerby: “I wasn’t really thinking, I just – they didn’t have any way to protect themselves, it was going to be dark, and raining, and the lions. So, I handed over my sword. I didn’t mean to disobey. I didn’t mean to, I just – it was the right thing to do, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it?”

He didn’t pay attention to where he walked. But it was no surprise at all when he found himself in Mayfair, staring at a long black Bentley and a tall, modern block of flats.

--

His fist pounded on the door. “Crowley? Crowley, please.” Aziraphale knocked again. “Crowley, I just – I need to talk to you, please, I know you’re here.”

The door opened so suddenly, he nearly toppled in. Crowley scowled at him, blocking the entrance, hair slicked back once again. “Oh. Aziraphale. I don’t remember inviting you.”

“I know. I know, please, I – I need your help.”

“Oh, now you need my help? Is that how it’s going to be? I just sit around waiting until you need me—”

“Crowley, this is serious! Will you just listen?”

The demon leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms. “Go on then.”

“In…in the hallway?”

“Yes, in the hallway. Seems fitting.”

Aziraphale nodded, watching his own hands twist and wring against each other. “I deserve this, of course. After the frightful way I treated you, and not just this morning. So many times over the years—”

“Oh, spare me the passive-aggressive speech,” Crowley groaned. “Just tell me what’s wrong.”

“I am, Crowley. This is what’s wrong. The – the curse. It’s started to affect me, quite – quite frightfully.”

He glanced up, just in time to see Crowley swallow. “Are you dying?” His voice was painfully neutral.

“No, nothing like that.” Yes, it was easier to address this whole conversation to his shoes. “I just…can’t seem to stop talking.”

“Well. It’s a terrible curse, but I’m sure you’ll survive somehow. If you’ll excuse me, Golden Girls is coming on—”

“It isn’t just that, Crowley, I can’t – I can’t lie.” Icy silence. “I’m compelled not just to speak, but to say the truth, the absolute truth. I’m finding it nearly impossible to conceal anything at all.”

He waited for the door to slam in his face.

“Get in, you idiot.”

Head jerking up, Aziraphale found that Crowley had stepped aside and opened the door wide. Nodding his thanks – knowing if he tried to voice them out loud, he’d say something he truly regretted – Aziraphale entered the flat.

--

He looked around in every direction, trying to avoid Crowley’s gaze. The demon was still tense, still leaning against the wall with arms crossed. “I say, this is the exact opposite of cozy,” Aziraphale commented cheerfully. “You seem to be missing nearly all your furniture. The walls are very white, aren’t they?”

“It’s called minimalism,” Crowley grunted. “You should try it.”

“Oh, is this the modern style of decorating?” There was a black sofa facing a television, a broad plain desk, the top of it a thin plate of glass, and an oddly shaped chair. A few pieces of sculpture were scattered around, though they didn’t seem to fit the general look of the place.

“It was. Bored with it now. Maybe go retro next, I don’t know.”

“Ah.” Aziraphale bit his tongue. He pulled off the satchel holding his book, placed it on the floor next to the sofa, trying to find something polite to say. He failed. “Only, it seems a very strange color choice, as it makes your whole flat rather look like—”

“Don’t say it,” Crowley snarled, pushing off from the wall.

“I can’t help it! I told you, I can’t seem to stop talking. Half of Soho now knows things about me I’ve never said before, and I just…I can’t stop.”

“Really?” he stalked forward. “So, if I asked you a question right now, you wouldn’t be able to lie, or avoid the subject or any of those other things you do?”

“Crowley, your expression right now does not at all make me feel safe.” He stepped back and closed his eyes. “But I suppose…yes, that’s fair. You can ask.”

“Oh, thank you for the invitation. Tell me, did you lie when you said you like having me around?”

“No, I…I think it had already begun to affect me.”

“Interesting.” Crowley’s voice was coming closer, but Aziraphale kept his eyes firmly shut. “Then you lied when you told me you wanted me to leave this morning?”

“No, of course not. I was quite incapable by then.” He stumbled back another step. “I knew letting you in the shop would be disastrous – not that I was fully aware what was going on – so it seemed the best thing was—”

“The best thing was to get rid of the demon, not to tell me that something was wrong? Bless it, Aziraphale, even when you tell the truth, you’re so – so twisted!”

“I didn’t – I don’t—” He stepped back and collided with the table; nowhere else to go. Aziraphale’s eyes fluttered open, and Crowley stood so close, towering over him, teeth bared, and the angel trembled like a mouse before a serpent. “It’s not that I like deceiving you, Crowley. I don’t. But I’m not – I don’t feel safe without them. My lies. I feel…exposed…naked…” He closed his eyes again. The words cut deep wounds across his heart.

“So, that’s why you didn’t trust me this morning? You don’t feel safe around me? What, do you think I’m going to take advantage of this? That I’m going to hurt you?”

“Of course not! I’m not afraid of you I’m—” He struggled to hold on to the one secret he had left. “Crowley, if I can’t break this curse by tomorrow, I’ll – I won’t be able to stop myself from telling Gabriel—”

“Telling him what?”

“That I love you!” The words tore through Aziraphale’s last layer of defense, shredding him, leaving him open to the world. He sobbed, leaning against the desk behind him, practically sitting on it as his legs gave way. “I love you, Crowley,” he repeated, much quieter. “You’re my best…you’re my only friend. And I love you so very dearly. And I can’t…can’t ever let anyone know…not even you...”

He heard something click onto the table beside him, and looked up to see Crowley, glasses gone, eyes brighter and wetter than Aziraphale had ever seen them. “There. Now we’re both naked,” he said softly.

“I’m…I’m sure this comes as – as something of a shock…”

Crowley chuckled. “What, that? I’ve known for centuries. Millennia, Angel. I just…I didn’t think you knew.” His hand slid up and cupped Aziraphale’s cheek, and the angel leaned against it, drawing on Crowley’s warmth and strength.

“I…I hid it, even from myself, for so long. I never let myself acknowledge…but, no, I’ve known since…the church. The bomb. Couldn’t really deny it after that.”

“And you know I…I feel the same.” His serpent eyes almost blinked. “That I have…for so long.”

“I hoped so?” Aziraphale’s voice was tight, straining. In Crowley’s movies, these conversations didn’t hurt. They were always full of laughter and smiles. Instead, Aziraphale felt torn to shreds, he felt raw, and he saw the same pain reflected in Crowley’s eyes. “I worried, every time I lied, that this would be the last straw, the thing that sent you away for good.”

“I’m not going to leave—”

“Sometimes I wished it would be. That you would just – just go. Because it would be…so much easier…”

“They would punish you, if they knew,” Crowley said slowly. “Hurt you. Make you Fall.”

“I don’t care about that.” Aziraphale felt the first tear slide down his cheek. “It’s not – I don’t lie, and hide, and shut you out to protect myself. They would destroy you, Crowley. And I would rather die than…than see you hurt…”

Suddenly, Crowley’s arms were around him, pulling him into a surprisingly strong embrace, one hand cradling the back of his head. “Oh, you stupid, stupid Angel. Don’t worry about me.”

“One of us has to.” Aziraphale pressed his face into the curve of Crowley’s neck, felt his arms slide across Crowley’s back. Pushed himself fully onto the desk so he could wrap his legs around Crowley’s, pull him close, keep him safe. “I will protect you, my dear Crowley. I will. Anything to keep you safe.”

“Aziraphale. I don’t – I just want you to trust me. Talk to me. Let me help you." The angel shook his head, burrowing deeper into Crowley's embrace. "We can keep each other safe. You don’t have to do everything on your own.”

“I…I don’t…I don’t want to be alone,” Aziraphale managed.

“You never will be. Let me be there for you.”

“Crowl—” he tried, but all that he managed was a throttled squeak. He nodded, face still buried in Crowley’s shoulder, and let himself be entwined - engulfed - absorbed in that love.

“Aziraphale,” his demon whispered after a moment. “I want to kiss you.”

“I…want you to…” Crowley’s hands cradled his face again, pulling him back until their eyes met, and oh, that look on Crowley’s face now hurt even more than the sappy, hopeful smile this morning. “But you can’t,” Aziraphale ground out, despite his raw throat, his heart straining to burst free.

“Why not?” He leaned closer, until Aziraphale could feel his warm breath.

“Because…my dearest…if you kiss me, I’m never going to stop.” Crowley chuckled. “No, I mean it. I love you. So much. Every moment that I’m not kissing you is a lie. It’s why I’ve been so blasted affectionate the last few days. I need - I’m compelled - to express my love. To say it. To show you, and it hurts to stop.”

“I can stop us.”

“We can’t risk it. I can’t. Not when it’s your life at stake.”

“That’s my choice.” The lips were so close, he could practically taste them already. If he just leaned forward the tiniest bit…

“Please,” Aziraphale begged. “Don’t.”

The hands holding Aziraphale’s face tightened – and tipped his head down, pressing his forehead against Crowley’s. “Alright, Angel. Anything you want.”

Aziraphale tried to find his breath again. He didn’t think his heart would ever stop hammering.

“And we will find a solution to this, Aziraphale. I’m not going to lose you now.”

“I don’t think you’re going to have much choice in the matter. I will betray us both. By tomorrow I won’t be able to resist telling everyone I’m madly in love with a gorgeous, kind, wonderful demon, whose soul sings like the sweetest music, whose heart burns with the passion of the stars, and – oh, there I go again.”

Crowley growled, playfully. “I’m not any of those things.”

“Well, I hardly could have lied, could I? So, it must be true.” Aziraphale sighed. His heart and head ached, he just wanted to sit here leaning against Crowley forever, but there were things to take care of. He let go, allowed Crowley to step away. “I’ve had no luck with the book at all.”

Crowley pressed his lips into a line. “I…I told you I asked around Hell. Not one word about this raid.”

“Well, it’s entirely possible they’re keeping it from you.” Aziraphale stood, stretching. “No offence, darling, but you’re not exactly a high-ranked demon. According to Gabriel, your side was quite soundly defeated. Perhaps they’re covering it up.”

“Yeah, maybe, but,” Crowley backed away, pressing a hand against his hair, smoothing non-existent fly-aways back into place. “Even then, they’d never keep it a secret for long. Any time one of the lords of Hell weakens, the others swarm like…like…some sort of…blood-thirsty insects…”

“Sharks.”

“Sharks aren’t insects,” Crowley reminded him.

“No, but they do swarm. Quite ravenously. You remember that film we saw.”

“I don’t think Deep Blue Sea is a documentary.” Crowley frowned, but without his glasses, Aziraphale could see how his eyes danced. “Anyway. Maybe someone low-ranked was trying to organize a coup but…doesn’t feel right.”

“Perhaps it was some sort of ruse,” Aziraphale considered. “Pretending to lose in order to get the book captured. That would mean,” he realized with alarm, “the text itself is false, entirely untranslatable. Just a way to lure a researcher in, while the curse takes effect. But who could it be intended for?” He began to pace, struggling to focus through the whirl of emotions. “It might make sense for the target to be one of the Archangels, but they don’t do their own research. And how did the demons plan to capture the angel, once the curse was fully developed?”

Crowley cleared his throat. “I, uh, I have an idea, but I…need to be sure first. I need to see the book.”

Aziraphale picked up the bag, but hesitated. “Gabriel told me not to let anyone touch it. I gave him my word.” His fingers brushed down the leather spine. “What if…being touched by a demon sets it off?”

“It won’t,” Crowley soothed, but didn’t reach for the book. “I know how to handle cursed objects. Do it all the time for Hell. And if I’m right…” He glanced down at the bag. “I’ll be careful, I swear.”

The book felt heavy in Aziraphale’s hands – heavier than any book had a right to – heavy enough to drag them both to destruction.

“I trust you, Crowley.” He held it out, letting the bag fall to the floor. “But. Be careful.”

The moment Crowley touched it, his golden eyes went wide. He quickly placed it on the desk, wiping his hand on his shirt. “Well, that’s…” He glanced at Aziraphale. “I’ll know by morning. Why don’t you get some rest? When was the last time you slept?”

“1941. The ride back from the church, remember?”

Aziraphale never slept, usually. But sometimes, on particularly thrilling days, days fraught with too many emotions, his mind would buzz, overstimulated, until it felt numb. Then, he would lie down and drift away, and wake in the morning feeling himself again.

He’d felt that edge of over-exhaustion as they walked out of the church fifty-eight years ago, terrified by the newly recognized emotion that had bubbled under the surface for so long. Crowley had brushed a finger across his forehead and invited him to sleep, and he’d dozed off in the passenger seat of the Bentley, feeling warm and protected in ways he’d never known, not in all the long eternities of his existence. He woke the next morning on the shop sofa, bag of books resting on the floor beside him.

He felt it again now, that exhaustion, and knew it would only get worse the longer he fought it.

“Come on. This time you can use a bed.” Crowley put an arm over his shoulders and steered him, past a room full of vibrant green plants, and into another as empty as the first. A single bed pressed into a corner, white duvet and black pillows; a plant in a white pot on a black bedside table. That was all.

“Honestly, Crowley, this is where you sleep? It’s so infernally drab I can’t imagine how you manage.” He sat on the edge of the bed, pulling his shoes off.

“Eh, it’s fine. All bedrooms look the same with your eyes closed.”

When Aziraphale was comfortable under the thick duvet, Crowley sat on the edge of the bed, fingers brushing his forehead as they had in 1941. “Sleep, and dream of—”

“I’ll dream of you,” Aziraphale said. “Damned honesty curse. I always do, though.”

“Well, then.” Crowley leaned forward and pressed his lips to Aziraphale’s hairline, just for a fraction of a second. “Too much?”

“No, dear. Never.”

--

Crowley stood beside the bed in the dark.

He’d found his answer just before midnight. He knew who Aziraphale’s enemy was. A solution had already started to form in his mind, but it was a terrible thought.

Would Aziraphale believe him? Would he agree to what needed to be done?

Could Crowley go through with it?

No choice, he reminded himself. Aziraphale needs you. It was all he ever needed to steel his resolve.

“Angel.” He reached out and gently shook Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Time to wake up.”

“Crowley. C’m to bed.”

His heart rattled in his chest like a busted engine. “No, Aziraphale, we need—”

“Need you.” One eye opened just enough to reveal a gleam of blue. “Just…few hours. Let me have that. Please.”

Crowley wasn’t in the business of denying Aziraphale anything.

He lay down on top of the duvet, curled on his side to watch Aziraphale sleep. “Like this?”

The angel struggled a moment, until his arm came free, groping weakly in Crowley’s direction. “Can’t find you.”

“I’m coming.” Crowley wiggled closer, turning around until his back was pressed as close to Aziraphale as he could get it. The angel’s arm looped around, crossing his chest, pulling him closer, until his breath brushed warm on the back of Crowley’s neck. Until their hearts beat together. “How’s that?”

“Love you,” Aziraphale whispered. “Safe…” but soon he was asleep again.

Not long after, Crowley drifted off, into the best night’s sleep he’d ever had.

--

Aziraphale woke the next morning with Crowley in his arms.

He held Crowley and cried, quietly, his heart overflowing with love.

--

(Alright! One more long chapter to come, and it’s going to be another emotional rollercoaster. Look for it on AO3 or comment “tag” so I’ll tag you here!) @black-velvet-roses-tea @witchingwhovian