#My second piece for him it’s more of a backstory snippet though

[devil-doll13]

Motorcycle Man

Tw: Angst, Depression, Implied Suicidal Thoughts

Proceed With Caution!

A little bit of backstory for Max here I once again got from scraps of another fic. (I like to recycle) He is fun and easy to write! I say as I write the angstiest shit…

Horror/Slasher Oc Writing For Maxwell “Max” Holt

Summary: Max remembers how he came to own his motorcycle

Dividers by firefly-graphics

The first time he saw her was in the junkyard.

At the time he was in a real bad place. Working a car crusher at minimum wage and barely enough to make a living, all he did was destroy cars and get drunk to forget who he was, what he was.

What had happened to him basically ruined his life. Plain and simple. The full moon’s tyrannical hold on him dominated his mind. Terror and shame kept him in chains, no one to run to. Those were dark days, and he felt thankful he barely remembered most of them.

(Some nights he didn’t know what was keeping him here. Down in a hole with no way out. Would anyone even miss him? He knew they wouldn’t…)

The one good time he had, the light in the darkness, was her. And it was her that saved him in the end.

The memory is vivid; it still feels fresh. Because it was raining heavily that day, and he was painfully sober. Still on the job. Crushing car after car. A monotonous, soul-destroying task. The kind that wreaks havoc on the mind, when you realise it’ll never end.

But then, in the midst of all the scrap metal, he came across this old vintage Harley Davidson. She was just sitting there abandoned in a filthy old pile of junk. All beaten up and broken down, just like him.

Max just wondered who in their right mind would throw out a beauty like that. Even in a state of disrepair, she was a majestic beast. Still had a nice coat of paint on and everything, (although back then it was orange) but someone had decided she had no value anymore. Something about that struck him as profoundly sad.

For some reason he got the idea in his head to take her in, save her from himself. He just couldn’t let her get crushed to oblivion with all the rest of em,’ so against all common sense Max brought her back home with him.

Maybe he was crazy to think he’d be able to afford her, but once he weaned himself off the nightly booze he found himself able to put all his funds into her repairs. He did those himself, too; memories of his childhood flooding back. Better times, when things weren’t so desolate, when he still believed people loved him.

It took a while, it really did. Time, patience, and effort. It wasn’t easy, but he got into a routine after a while. By day he destroyed, and by night he repaired. Max nursed her back to health, little by little, until she was well again.

The joy he felt when he finally got her engine running again was euphoric, it made his heart soar. That was the first time he’d felt happy; really, truly happy in a long time. She was back on the road, as ferocious a tigress as she ever was. He revved her up, and she roared like a lion.

At some point he’d found himself healing alongside her. Not completely; he’d never really get his old self back again. But with this achievement Max found the strength to actually hope for something better. To look forward, rather than down.

He quit his job. He hated it, anyway. He hated the town he was living in, too. He needed to get away, run free by himself. Up North, just anywhere out of that place.

His new Harley Davidson was a life saver, in the end. She ended up carrying him right out of that shithole he was living in and where he met Jack. And then Jack looked him in the eye and told him he wasn’t beyond saving, like he’d thought. He wasn’t a lost cause.

That realisation was a heavy one. He felt lost, really lost. He needed guidance to help properly navigate his situation. After years of clinging to a life raft, believing he was lost at sea, it was easy to feel like he’d be swallowed whole by the waves. Jack provided a bigger ship to take shelter on while he repaired his own.

In Downings he went from destroying cars to fixing them up. He had a real talent for it. And a real passion. No matter how beat up something came in, he wanted to do his best to get it back into shape again. It was always immensely satisfying to feel the success of his work. A reminder that nothing is unsalvageable.

Sometimes he still has bad days. His thoughts are nebulous, it’s difficult to stomach when all he can see is a monster in the mirror. Harder still when the moon’s eerie glow casts its light on him, and he loses all control. Against his will, he must obey its call.

On those days, or nights, he turns back to his trusty Harley Davidson. He goes out for a drive, lets the wind blow away his worries for a while. And sometimes, sometimes things are alright.

(Taglist: @rottent33th, @slaasherslut, @the-pinstriped-hood, @soupbabe, @goldrose-star, @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better, @solmints-messyocdiary)

[megafreak400]

Watching all of One Piece - The East Blue Saga

Well i've been trapped. You watch one introduction story about a cute reindeer doctor and suddenly you're locked in anime jail, unable to leave until you've traversed the entire grand line. I'm committed at this point though, so join me on my journey as I watch all of One Piece for the first time. Some background to start with. As alluded to the entire reason why I started this was I watched the Drum Island Arc on a whim before deciding to say fuck it and just watch the entire show. I haven't watched an anime series in like at least 5 years so why not start with this behemoth (this was decided before I watched Zombie Land Saga, but I blame a friend for that one.) Also note that i'm watching the Funimation dub of the original anime (not the live action also.) The plan is to write a blog post for every story saga. Is this the smartest way to break thing up? Eh maybe not but I'm going with it if it comes back to bite me oh well. So yes while I did watch Drum Island first, I won't give my thoughts on it until I finish the next saga. My plan is to break this down in four sections, though this may change in future blogs. The sections will be: 1. A talk about music I liked and OPs I liked 2. My general thoughts on the arcs (I will not recap what happens this blog assumes you know) 3. My thoughts on Major Characters or Characters I really really like. This saga will be a heavily focused on our main cast, but i'll make mention of guys that stood out or guys I hated as well for the supporting cast/villians during the arcs section 4. Overall thoughts on the saga.

Music

A great first opening for this show, catchy as heck and I think it fits the feel of the show perfectly. I do think maybe a rap may have been a better fit but this is still really good.

Sadly the second OP is just ok. It's not bad but I think the english version isn't nearly as good as what i've heard of the Japanese version, and even that just doesn't hit as well as We Are. I also think the weird 4 image thing the op does is kind of lame compared to unique animation and as far as I can tell that's how it was in japanese as well. As far as ED's go, none of them really stood out to me except one.

This song is just so catchy, even more so in the English version which just has more energy to it. I mostly like the starting section with the kid versions of the main cast running, it's so good and i love kid zoro just running super extra hard it's adorable. For background music, all of it is very good but by far the best background song is this one:

Specifically the first part. When these trumpets start blaring you know that someone is doing something cool or about ready to make a bad ass stand. It's also very catchy and powerful. On a similar note I also really enjoy Rubber Bazooka. You know Luffy (or sometimes buggy for no reason...Like seriously why did they use this theme for him in that one episode) is kicking some major ass and it's always a fun time.

And my last pick for my top 3 favorite songs is Mother Sea, a remix of We are that usually plays when the saddest backstory ever is happening. Always fits the scenes perfectly, doubly so since a lot of these scene have like a white fuzzy boarder of sorts to denote a flash back that for some reason when mixed with this song just gives a very sad nostalgic vibe that I appreciate.

One last honorable mention goes to the snippets of character themes that play midway during an episode when it goes to commercial. I know that there is a full song to these and these are just parts of that full orchestration but the parts they pick really fit the characters perfectly and it's always a delight to hear the song and be like "oh zoro's poster is gonna flutter on up." All of the music in this show is delightful and I can't wait to hear more.

Arcs

Ok It's time for the Meat and potatoes section. This is mostly what stuck out to me, so if I missed something you found cool i'm sorry. Romance Dawn Arc

A good start to the story, introducing us to the insanity that is Luffy. This is mostly just an introductory arc so I don't have a ton of specific reactions here that wouldn't be mentioned in Luffy and Zoro's overall character thoughts. For other characters Koby is a weenie but I do end up liking him and I love how Luffy inspires him. It is really wild that he ends up friends with a pirate despite wanting to join the marines (though honestly kid, 90 percent of the marines I've seen in this show suck, maybe don't.....or go find captain smoker), but I guess Luffy is just built different. Villains wise, most are kind of forgettable. Alivda is a whatever character here and Helmeppo is silly but kind of obnoxious. Morgan is horrible and starts the trend of the main villian of the arc being the biggest piece of shit, and usually even a bigger piece of shit compared to the guy from the last arc. One piece is in an arm race to find the worst characters for Luffy to beat up and I'm kind of all here for this. I guess the other thing to note is Shanks, who is shown in a flash back (though in the manga I know it's just the first chapter. I really like Shanks and I know we'll see more of him in the future. Just know I think he's really cool and I hope he doesn't end up being an asshole. But beyond that there isn't much else to say about this arc. I like the Nami shows up here doing her own thing but beyond that it's just a solid introduction arc without anything too crazy that stands out.

Orange Town Arc

Chouchou is best boy! The fake out of you thinking he got slaughters when actually he struck a blow was great I really hope we see him again in the future, though I doubt it since he's such a small character. Also the Mayor was really fun, respect to him marching off to fight Buggy. Stupid of him, but he had guts. Beyond that uh yea sorry I don't really care for Buggy. This arc is great because we get more Zoro and Luffy character building but Buggy and his crew are a bit of a snooze fest. Maybe it's the dub actor who sounds like he's going for Joker if he wasn't funny and also was barely evil but I guess most of the villains in this show are giant asshats who you want to see beat up. Buggy is just kind of an annoyance so far. He's a lot more annoying in later episodes, here he was fine but IDK the anime seems to love this man and he hasn't done anything to make me enjoy watching him. Chop Chop powers are fun, but he doesn't really do anything creative with them here. His lackeys also overstay their welcome. The fact that I remember Chouchou more than the guy he was fighting should be evidence of that. And acrobat guy shouting random attack names was funny but again just got old after a while. The more important part of this arc is Nami finally meeting Luffy an Zoro. I want it noted that it takes a while for me to like Nami, here she slightly got on my nerves mostly because she was being a bit silly about thinking she could trick Buggy, at least at the time. Also shout outs to Zoro just sleeping after a bad stab womb. Won't be the last time either, I love this dumb swordsman.

Syrup Village Arc

Ok this is the first Arc I really gelled with. Not that I wasn't enjoying the show before this, I was because I really like Zoro and Luffy. But this was the first arc where I thought the overall story and pacing kept me enthralled. Ussop really shines in this arc and while it's kind of his fault no one believes him he steps up and the battle that follows is incredible. Kaya is a sweetheart, though some of her actions in this arc are a little short sighted. Her going to Kuro just seemed like the wrong move, but i respect her guts. She is also part of the reason Ussop works in this arc because his tall tales are for her benefit and it's shown she really enjoys Ussop's company. Next up....how did Merry survive? I know this won't be the last time i ask this but seriously this dude should have died. I legit thought he was going to become their boat through some strange reincarnation, and I wasn't entirely wrong? Obligatory Zoro is so dumb and I love him for it. Nami pushing him down into the oil, ok sure dick move but the guy took like a half hour to realize he could just use his sword to climb up. I also find it absolutely hilarious that if he doesn't have a sword in his mouth he's like at half strength. The Black cat pirates are by far the best villains so far. Kuro is an absolute dick and even before the reveal I hated this man. This man was a wanted pirate who decided to hatch this insane scheme to take over this rich families fortune by 2 years of pretending to be their faithful butler and faking his death to get the marines off his tail. Just an absolutely over the top insane plan but it doesn't matter because he sells it just due to how cold and cunning he is. Unfortunately he stupidly decided to reveal his plan to merry for no reason before failing to kill him, so maybe dumber than you think (like most cats.) His crew is also a lot of fun, the back and forth of them wanting to cheer him with his old name and him getting mad at them is great, and them just switching to cheering for Luffy when he reveals he was going to kill them all is hilarious. Jango is also a lot of fun, his hypnotism add a lot of twists to this arc that I enjoyed. I've learned quickly that for a lot of these arcs they need something to prevent Luffy and Zoro from just winning right out the gate, so having Luffy be hypnotized here was not only hilarious it also gave Ussop a time to shine. Oh yea and shout outs to the ussop pirate gang, those kids were pretty cool in the end and respect to them for staying to fight against Jango. Overall best arc so far, it was a joy from start to end. Baratie Arc

This might be my favorite arc of this saga. I fucking love this insane restaurant everyone who works here is nuts and It's the best. There are so many good characters in this arc. Patty and Carne stand out from the chefs, but even the nameless background chefs are great. Zoro's bounty hunter friends are introduced here and I loves these weirdos and the fact that they stick around for so long. Zeff is the best dad, his backstory with Sanji is the saddest backstory ever and I really love his goodbye with Sanji. Also The idea of a kicking pirate is great and I love that he taught Sanji everything he knows. Also his interactions with Luffy are hilarious. Full not metal not alchemist is a giant weenie and a great way to introduce how nuts the fighting Chefs of the Baratie are. I assume we'll see him more in the future but glad he got what was coming to him. Gin is a great character and I love that we get a complex villain here. One piece needs a giant asshole for the crew to defeat but having a character who is technically on the other side but has good morals helps give a bit more complexity beyond just bad guy is bad. Mihawk comes way the fuck out of now where and I assume he'll be way more important later but he's a good way to show how insane what they'll find in the Grand Line will be. It's interesting because a lot of this arc feels like setting up for later arcs, with the stuff with Nami leaving leading directly to the next one or Zoro's fight here most likely leading to big things later down the line but it never feels like it's out of place. Don Krieg is a giant weenie and seeing him and his stupid armor taken down was very satisfying. This man also sucks because he's supposed to be one of the strongest pirates ever and he went to the grand line and instantly got his ass handed to him. He also has a punch able face. The setting to this arc is also very fun. The idea of a floating restaurant is just such a cool concept. It also makes for an interesting battle ground since neither party wants to destroy the terrain. Also Sanji. This is the last time Sanji gets to be not cringe for an entire arc (so far at least) I like sanji here a lot he's fantastic. I feel like fighting wise he doesn't really get to do much here (he honestly feels more normal here and less super strong compared to later fights) but his morals when it came to feeding people and his defending of his family and home and how he finally agrees to join Luffy's crew are all handled fantastically. Sadly though he has one glaringly bad character flaw, but i'll get to that later. Overall I just love the pacing of this arc. It flows perfectly. From them meeting the bounty hunters (which is hilarious by the way, don't pour lemon juice down a man's throat to cure scurvy at home kids) to them deciding they need a chef as the reason to go the restaurant in the first place. The from there the marine jerk causing Luffy to become a chore boy, and them being there leading to Gin escaping and bring back Krieg, it just feels all natural. And as mentioned with Nami leaving it also feels like it just flows well into the next arc. 10/10 best arc. Arlong Park Arc

Fuck

Ok......Let's try this again. FUUUUUUUUUUUUCKKKK This arc is apparently the arc to watch if you want to know if you'll like one piece and I get why. Also the arc that made me go "what the fuck how did 4 Kids dub this" before realizing the answer was "badly." There is some brutal stuff in this arc, and if you thought Kuro was an asshole, clearly you haven't met Arlong. Ok some minor things. Momoo is adorable and I love them. I feel so bad for them and I want to give them a hug. Granted the running joke of Luffy and Sanji not knowing what the heck animals are is really funny but leave my poor cow baby alone. Ok other small things uh............fuck everything in this arc isn't really small. Ok uh....Ussop he gets to be heroic for once, that was cool. Oh and the pinwheel guy and Nami's sister are fantastic I love them and them trying to save Luffy is hilarious and also Luffy is an idiot. alright uh where to start. Arlong is a fucking asshole. Fuck this guy the biggest piece of shit until the next piece of shit. IDK what the worst part about this guy is. The racism, what he did to nami's mom, what he did to the village, what he did to nami both in making her join his crew and giving her false hope before snatching it away. Take your pick, they're all good choices. Arlong is our first introduction to the fish man species and I really hope there are some good fish men later on (there are I know this) because pretty much everyone here (except one) are just awful. Arlong's defeat by Luffy is extremely cathartic. The entire scene in the map room and luffy's reaction...it's perfect. uh other fish man....honestly most of the other guys are whatever except Hatchan. Dude is hilarious and also very dumb. While I said Gin was great for being a good guy on the bad team, Hatchan is good for being a dumb guy on the bad team. From his first meeting to zoro to his entire fight with zoro seeing dumb vs dumb is a sight to behold. Ok i'll get to this more during nami's character section but Nami is a character who slowly gets better arc from arc with slow character building and moving her to this moment. This is her arc, and it's also when I was fully on liking her as a character. That scene, that fucking scene man. You know the one. It's just so good everything about her in this arc is done masterfully. How she fakes killing Ussop, the Tattoo she ends up getting after everything, her friendship with Luffy here. Nami is this arc and while I did enjoy the Baratie more, this arc hits on an emotional level with the saddest backstory ever told. Also obligatory Zoro is dumb. Did I mention I love him? Louge Town Arc

This arc is a fun time. It's a good breather arc, setting up the the transition to the grand line, introducing some new characters and reintroducing some old characters. I was not expecting to see alvida again, and though she basically acts like a different character, it's cool to see her return i guess. Buggy is here....yay? IDK maybe Buggy becomes amazing later on but he's more just used here to establish characters coming back and act as a way to make Luffy seem cool. The side stories in this arc are what i mostly enjoy though. Everything with Zoro in the sword shop was a fun time, and I can't wait to see more of this not the dead girl zoro knew in the future. Ussop's story with Daddy the Father (yes that's his name) is also fun. Any time Ussop isn't being annoying i'll always applaud. Some insane stuff happens near the end of this arc, like this weird man and the weird lighting but I'm assuming we'll learn more about that much later. And lastly, Smoker. We love Smoker. The first marine I like and IDK what his role in the story will be but i can't wait to see more of this man. Warship Island Arc

An anime only arc that....exists. This arc is fine, but honestly thinking back I really don't have much to say about this one. Eric is a stupid weenie and the entire arc is them going to the wrong place and having to back track. I do like Apis, she's a fun character, but the overall pace of the story just is kind of whatever. I do like that they work this arc into manga events like getting trapped in the calm belt or entering reverse mountain, and the main cast continues to be pretty fun in their interactions with each other but I kind of just want to get to the grand line already!

Episodes not in Arcs

Ok there are really only two things to mention here. 1. Gaimon is the best and I love his island with the weird animals. I assume he's not important but his episode is fun and the idea of this weird box man is hilarious. 2. Buggy's episodes suck. like the only episodes of the show i really didn't like. I don't like buggy as it is but he absolutely can't function as the protagonist. Small buggy dicking around is painful to watch but then they have a second episode with his crew and I just don't care. The lion is funny but other then that these episodes just felt like a waste of time.

Characters

OK I'm only going to cover the main guys here, in later sagas I main include more, we'll have to see. Monkey D Luffy

Luffy is an idiot. He's like so dumb but I kind of love him for it. Probably my second or third favorite character at this point, this man is Goku brained. That's not a bad thing mind you, but if you've watched original dragon ball, all the traits are here. A love for food (and a huge appetite,) loves to fight, gets insanely pissed if you hurt his friends, stupid strong, very very dumb and a has a good heart. Luffy is a simple character but honestly that's fine. Everyone else can get sad backstories and deep lore Luffy is fine just being this rubber wrecking ball. The fact that he actively doesn't want to know the backstories of his crew is both hilarious but also touching in a way, since it doesn't matter to him where they came from. He decided they were on his crew and his friends and that's just the way it is. East blue Luffy overall is a fun time and while him being nerfed at times due to stupidity is a bit, well stupid, it also makes it so he doesn't overstay his welcome. Him being dumb could be annoying but it's mostly paced well enough that it ends up just being funny and not overbearing.

Roronoa Zoro

I love Zoro. Man is stupid strong, stupid stupid and a good guy. Granted he's smarter than Luffy and I love it when he notices stuff and gets to show off a bit of his tactical no how. But the man also is very dumb in a lot of other ways and I love him for it. The fact that the only reason he's known as a pirate hunter is because he just beat up pirates trying to find his way back home because he got lost and he doesn't even realize he's known as this big bad bounty hunter is pretty incredible. It does suck that he gets wounded so much in east blue but if he didn't he would probably win all the fights with no struggle. And because of that we get to see how determined he is to be the best swords man. His fight with Mihawk after learning his back story is such a great moment and i really hope he becomes just that, the greatest swordsman. Nami

I like Nami a lot and I only keep liking her the more I watch. I do think it's a slow burn to liking her, she's not exactly the nicest character to the guys for the longest time, but a lot of that is her wearing a mask due to her past experiences. Once we get to Arlong park and realizing everything she's been through and how strong willed she is, it's understandable and from that point she also becomes a lot more approachable to the rest of the crew while still maintaining a bit of her trademark "you idiots" bite to her. I do wish she was a bit less money hungry at times but compared to other characters it's a minor flaw so far.

Ussop

Ussop is in a race for my least favorite main character in the East Blue and it sucks because I do like him. It's just while the lying in his arc was fine, when he starts to brag and lie during other arcs as a way to seem tougher or to take credit for others deeds, he just comes across as obnoxious. Because Usssop doesn't need to lie, he's pretty cool on his own. Him doing his marksman thing and generally being one of the smarter members of the crew is enough on it's own, you don't need to be freakishly strong dude. He took out a fishman on his own and it was legit hype but then he decides to lie to the town and tell them he did everything despite them clearly watching the whole fight against Arlong. I think Ussop will always be a character who is always really good or really annoying, but I hope he leans more to the good side the further on we get.

Sanji

Oh Sanji. Sanji, Sanji, Sanji. Sanji could be such a good character but he has one really annoying awful trait. He's horrible when it comes to women. Not only that but he's kind of an asshole to the rest of the crew during the every day travel, and only good when in battle. He was great during his arc mind you, but he always acts weird around Nami or any girl and just please dude. Men being weird about beautiful women is always a weird joke and while a lot of times it can kind of work, it just doesn't here. It's unfortunate because it kind of becomes Sanji's whole character or at the very least eclipses anything else good about him.

Final Thoughts

East blue overall is a fun saga to start our adventure. I think it establishes the world of One Piece well while leaving room for more insane characters and story elements the further in we get. It gives us our main cast (besides best boy Chopper) for a while and introduces all their back stories. A good mix of comedy and heartbreak i'm excited to watch more of this show and see how deep the rabbit hole goes.

[waywardsalt]

Holy shit I will talk about Linebeck for FREE

I did skim the PH manga to see if I could steal anything, and uhhh it certainly made some Choices. I didn't end up taking much, just a few cues for how I wanna characterize Link and a couple ideas for how I wanted to handle Linebeck's backstory.

I thought the flashback scene with Linebeck abandoning his crew to escape the ghost ship was an interesting concept. It didn't quite fit what I wanted, but it was close? I like the survivor's guilt angle, like maybe he joined up with a crew of people he admired and he let them down somehow.

It's fun to talk about Linebeck hell yeah

The ph manga does certainly make some Choices, that's for sure. The backstory they come up for Linebeck is... it's interesting, but as I'll probably go over when I actually talk about the things I disliked in it, not a great choice in the greater scheme of things.

It's a good concept though, even if it's one I don't use. One of my favorite things about Linebeck is the sheer lack of concrete information we're given about him, so his backstory can be whatever the hell you reasonably want it to be.

The survivor's guilt angle that the manga touches on is really good, though. The idea of him joining people he admires and ends up letting them down in some form is a cool concept to explore with Linebeck specifically, I think, and you can tie it back to the story of phantom hourglass decently well.

I think that with the way Linebeck is in phantom hourglass, you can do a lot of things with his backstory. I think you can whip up a lot of different interesting events that lead to Linebeck acting the way he does at the beginning of phantom hourglass.

I've pretty much got his entire backstory planned out for myself, (I'm considering writing it out as a fic but it does contain topics that I would need to be careful handling) and I don't really do anything similar to what the manga does, instead opting for a more mundane but still tumultuous backstory centering more on the ideas of social isolation and struggling with identity and stuff.

I can't tell since I know exactly what parts of my fics relate to this backstory and what part of that backstory is referenced, but I'm curious about what people might piece together just based on clues and implications I leave in my phantom hourglass oneshots.

I have a handful of backstories for him because I like to come up with aus, so he has a different backstory in every story, but it's fun to identify what parts of the backstory remain static or share the same themes despite the backstories being in genres ranging from futuristic sci-fi to modern times or even just vastly different Zelda-type settings.

The phantom hourglass manga, I think, is a questionable choice for reference on these characters, although Link is enough of a fluid character that all of his manga portrayals are fine. Manga Linebeck is not nearly as good as game Linebeck though lol. I'm still angry about losing the second half of the game. We lost his letter, which I consider to be a fantastic snippet of characterization for him.

Anyways, Linebeck backstories are interesting since there's pretty much nothing that canon suggests about him. I'm interested in whatever you decide on doing with him!

[littlemisspascal]

Death and an Angel part 13

Death!Din x Cupid F!Reader

Summary: Ahsoka takes Din on a journey through the past.

“You should know though, you might not like what you see.”

Din shakes his head, dismissing the warning. “What’s one more nightmare?”

Rating: T

Word Count: 5,958

Warnings: angst, swearing, character death (canonical, but with my own twist), made up planet name that is ridiculous, dialogue heavy, plot plot plot, backstory

Author Note: Good lord this is soooo late coming out. To anyone who sent me an encouraging message I am beyond grateful because I really needed the encouragement to finish this segment. I hope more than anything this segment gives more answers than it raises questions (although reading your theories is both awesome and entertaining so keep them coming too!)

Links to Part 1 and Part 12 and Part 14

Cross-posted on AO3.

Photo Inspiration:

“Who the fuck is Moff Gideon?”

Ahsoka looks at Din, her brow furrowed deeply. He’s seen the expression on her face enough times to recognize its meaning: this is the face she makes when she is about to reveal a message directly from the universe itself. As an Oracle, she is the only immortal who can glimpse details of the past, present, and future. She has a soft spot for mortals, sharing the few precious snippets the universe allows her to with them in the forms of riddles and vague prophecies that never fail to give Din a migraine with their crypticness when he hears them.

“Moff Gideon is a Seraph who grew discontent with his position amongst immortals,” she says at last.

“Is he the one responsible for keeping my soulmate from me?” he asks, voice as harsh and unforgiving as the environment surrounding them.

“He is responsible for many sins.”

“I don’t have time for your vague answers,” he growls, hands twisting into fists. “You tell me not to kill this Seraph, then in the next breath claim he’s a threat. I am not a mortal who will be entertained by riddles, Ahsoka. You summoned me here to talk, so start talking. Tell me what you know.”

The Oracle’s mouth purses into a thin line. Nearly a full minute passes before she speaks again. When she does, the calmness is no longer natural, but forced. “Telling you what I know would be impossible.”

“Ahsoka—”

“But,” she pitches her voice higher than his protest while narrowing her eyes disapprovingly, “I am capable of showing you. You should know though, you might not like what you see.”

Din shakes his head, dismissing the warning. “What’s one more nightmare?”

She reaches forward, pressing her index and middle fingers to the center of his visor. If not for his helmet, she’d be touching the space directly between his eyes and instinct tells him the positioning isn’t random.

“We’ll start at the beginning,” she says, but her voice has changed from its usual cadence. It is ancient and youthful, a harsh scream and a hushed whisper all at once.

Din has only the slightest of seconds to process this in addition to the way her facial markings start to glow and her eyes flash white before he finds himself standing in the midst of a crisis.

There is mass hysteria every direction he turns. People screaming in terror, pushing each other and tripping over those who have fallen in their haste to flee an unseen threat; whole buildings are crumbling, sending flaming debris and shards of glass raining down upon the streets as smoke billows into the sky. The edges of his field of view are blurred, like he’s looking at everything through someone’s glasses, and it creates an ache behind his eyeballs. Fuck, is this what it’s like for Ahsoka when she experiences visions?

‘You remember the Fall of Mandalore, don’t you, Death?’ Ahsoka’s voice resonates from deep inside his brain, as if she’s fused her consciousness with his.

His jaw tightens when he says, “Of course.”

‘Oh, look. There you are.’

Sure enough, when Din looks forward he sees himself moving swiftly through the crowd, unaffected by the chaos as he stoops to reap the soul of a woman who’s had her skull caved in by the stampede of frantic civilians. He wonders how many others can say they’ve had an out-of-body-experience such as what he’s dealing with right now: reliving a traumatic event all over again while observing himself the same way a stranger would from a distance.

“Why are you showing me this?”

‘Because it’s important,’ Ahsoka answers, and the image of her frowning face enters his mind unbiddenly. ‘The universe has a plethora of endings imagined for every civilization, but it is the individual choices of the community that act as stepping stones bringing them closer to a specific fate.’

“Mandalore was always meant to fall apart. It was just a matter of how, not when,” he surmises, voice devoid of emotion. His words are punctuated by another fiery blast from a nearby complex, followed by an ear-piercing wall of a terrified child.

‘Precisely. But the same cannot be said for an individual’s lifespan. There are consequences if someone perishes before their time has come. You should know that better than anyone.’ There is a hint of accusation thinly veiled in her tone that has his body tensing reflexively.

His location shifts, shapes and colors mixing together without warning before another scene gradually comes into focus. It’s a large chamber with sparse furnishings, but its beauty is tarnished by the copious amounts of glass littering the room as every single one of the ornately designed windows have been shattered from the force of the explosions outside. Din knows before he even lays eyes on the throne he’s inside the royal palace because he first sees the familiar face of his most trusted reaper standing next to a blond-haired woman. Both women have such strikingly similar facial features nobody who sees them side by side can have any doubt they are related.

Whereas Bo-Katan dons gray-and-blue armor with a jetpack strapped to her back and two blaster pistols holstered at her sides, her sister, Satine, wears a garnet colored dress with a gold belt wrapped around her slender waist. In this moment, the sisters differ from each other as much as night and day; one a military leader, the other a pacifistic duchess.

“You need someone here to protect you. We don’t know who or what we’re dealing with and it isn’t safe for you to be alone,” Bo-Katan argues, crossing her arms over her chest as if to intimidate her sister into submitting.

“Our people are scared and defenseless, Bo. They need your protection during this crisis more than I currently do,” Satine says, voice soft but firm in a way only those deeply involved in politics can master.

Bo-Katan glances out the broken windows at the burning city, stubborn loyalty to protect her sister warring with her duty to protect her people. “Then at least send a message to Obi-Wan to come here.”

Satine shakes her head. “Bo—”

“I know things are strained between you two right now—”

“That’s a glaring understatement.”

“—but he’s one of our best and most loyal guards. He’s proven more than a dozen times he’ll fight anyone who’s a threat to you.”

“I don’t need the reminder of what he’s done for me.”

Bo-Katan places a hand on the blonde’s shoulder and squeezes it when she says, “He’s the only one other than myself I trust to protect you if you were to encounter danger.”

“Just because I’m committed to peace does not mean I am incapable of looking after myself.” Satine reaches behind herself to detach a weapon that had been clipped to the back of her belt. She clicks a button on its hilt, emitting a white blade shining brightly like a beacon amongst the dark clouds of smoke tainting the air.

Din’s breath catches in his throat. “Is that…?”

‘The Lightsaber of Mandalore,’ Ahsoka confirms. ‘Made by the Armorer herself.’

The Armorer is deeply respected by both mortals and immortals alike. As the goddess of metalworking and blacksmiths, there is nothing she cannot forge and infuse with grand powers. However, she is exceedingly cautious about choosing who is a recipient of her creations.

Din is one such recipient, having been given his armor of pure beskar when the Armorer realized how dangerous his touch was to mortals. He remains eternally grateful for the gift not only because it prohibits unwanted physical contact, but also because it is invulnerable to damage or rust like other types of armor. Ahsoka’s dual sabers were also made in the Armorer’s forge, specifically designed for the Oracle’s grip alone and meant to protect her during her journeys throughout the galaxy, but in contrast to the white blade of the Lightsaber, the blades of Ahsoka’s weapons matched the same blue coloring as the stripes on her lekku and montrals.

According to the legends Din’s heard, the Armorer created the Lightsaber for the first ruler of Mandalore because she was impressed with their culture and strong military, and it was passed on to each new heir to the throne over the centuries. When wielded in battle, the Lightsaber made the user invincible against enemy attacks as it siphoned off energy from the souls of those it sliced through.

Throughout the long history of Mandalore, Satine was distinguished as the only ruler to avoid warfare as she sincerely believed negotiations and treaties could solve any problem quicker than bloodshed.

As such, Din isn’t surprised when Bo-Katan raises a judgmental eyebrow. “Did you forget who you’re talking to? I know you wouldn’t use the Lightsaber even to cut a piece of fruit.”

Satine sighs through her nose, sheathing the weapon once more. “Fine. I’ll contact Obi the second you’re gone.”

“You better.” Bo-Katan leans forward, pressing her forehead against her sister’s. A gesture of affection within their culture. “I’ll see you soon.”

And then she’s gone, flying out the nearby window and diving straight into the fray. As a mortal and as a reaper, the redhead is fearless in the face of danger. Some might consider the behavior reckless, but Din’s always been impressed by her dogged tenacity to achieve victory no matter the difficulty of her mission.

Din looks back at Satine. Now that she is alone in the room, she is able to freely express her distress at the unfolding situation, looking as if she’s aged ten years within the blink of an eye. She fiddles with the comlink around her wrist, seeming hesitant to call this Obi-Wan fellow like she agreed to.

‘They haven’t realized it, but they’re soulmates, ’ Ahsoka murmurs, low and melancholic. Hearing it makes Din’s chest constrict with unease. ‘They fought recently and parted ways upset with each other. Unfortunately, she dies before they can resolve their miscommunication.’

The next sequence of events play out startlingly quick, as if Ahsoka has chosen to suddenly jump forward in time. His eyes struggle to absorb the fleeting details—the doors to the throne room being blown open; a Seraph in black armor emerging from the smoke; his voice is unique, velvety and thorny at the same time, as he addresses the duchess by her full name Satine Kryze; Satine attempting to stall as she subtly taps at her comlink, only for the tactic to fail as the foe teleports closer, eliminating the space between them.

“You have something I want,” he tells her, seizing hold of her throat. “You may think you have some idea of what you have in your possession, but you do not.”

One of Satine’s hands claws at his face, attempting to gouge out his eyeballs with her nails, while the other reaches for the Lightsaber. Her fingertips brush against its metal hilt just as he throws her to the floor. The impact knocks the breath out of her lungs, eliciting a strangled gasp, and shards of glass dig into her exposed skin, dotting the pale flesh with beads of blood.

Gideon—Din doesn’t need Ahsoka’s input to know this, for who else could the Seraph be but him?—places the heel of his boot over Satine’s neck. He doesn’t apply pressure yet, but the action in itself has the duchess squirming with panic, hitting at his leg futilely. There is a red light on the comlink flashing insistently, indicating someone on the other end is speaking but they’ve been muted.

“Give me the asset I seek.”

Through clenched teeth, Satine wheezes, “It belongs to Mandalore.”

“I thought you might say that,” Gideon replies, feigning disappointment. “However, in case you haven’t noticed Duchess,” he gestures towards the windows, “Mandalore is dead. My accomplices have made sure of that.”

“You’re a coward for hiding behind others. You don’t deserve the Lightsaber.”

There is a sudden change in the atmosphere, air turning impossibly frigid and crisp.

“I deserve it more than anyone,” Gideon says, angry enough he is trembling. The Seraph’s stance shifts, and although Din has witnessed every type of brutal death imaginable, he flinches at the sound of Satine’s neck snapping beneath his heel.

Gideon rolls her lifeless body over and rips the Lightsaber off her belt, a satisfied smirk on his face. He disappears as quickly as he arrived, reward in hand, and an eerie silence envelops the room. It’s almost as if the palace itself is stunned by the loss of its ruler, struggling to make sense of the merciless act of violence.

Time skips forward again, showing a young bearded-man dressed in military armor clutching at Satine’s body, pressing his forehead against hers as he weeps. Over and over he keeps murmuring apologies for not being quicker, for failing to be there when she needed him, for never saying he loved her.

“How do you know Satine and Obi-Wan are soulmates if they never matched?” Din asks, feeling like he’s intruding on a private moment despite not actually being there.

He thinks of a similarly phrased question he’d asked his angel on their way to Sorgan what feels like entire lifetimes ago: how will I know it’s my soulmate? Her eloquent response remains embedded deep in his memory, safely stored away along with every other moment they’ve spent together. Longing twists like a knife in his side as he allows himself a second of weakness to look at the soulmate marking on his palm.

‘I saw the life they were going to share,’ Ahsoka tells him. ‘Satine Kryze was not meant to die here. She and Obi-Wan should have both survived the Fall of Mandalore, settling down happily with each other elsewhere in the galaxy. Gideon’s greed altered their destinies.’

The palace fades away to reveal a much older Obi-Wan, gray-haired and wrinkled. He’s in Mos Eisley; Din recognizes the crowded spaceport instantly having taken his ship there for repairs numerous times over the years.

‘The universe puts a lot of effort into making sure soulmates match with each other at a very precise moment. Even if the match is rejected, the individuals still had an important impact on each other’s lives. Timing is the most important factor for a soulmate pairing, and if it’s off then the universe will attempt to fix it.’

Obi-Wan stops to help a woman who’s accidentally dropped her shopping bag, contents spilling out onto the sandy ground. She thanks him as he offers her a polite smile, both of their attentions on each other’s faces and not their hands. More specifically: their marked hands. There is the barest brush of their fingertips as they reach for the same item before an invisible blast of energy erupts from their touch, splitting them apart and sending every person and thing surrounding them flying in all directions.

The shock on Obi-Wan’s face matches Din’s own beneath his helmet. He remembers his angel telling him after the failed match with Omera what happened on Sorgan wasn’t the first time an event like that occurred, but she hadn’t been privy to the details. Her superior had told her she wasn’t high enough ranking which Din had thought sounded like a load of bantha shit at the time.

“Ahsoka, what is the meaning of this?” Din asks the questions quietly, but there’s an audible coating of frustration that he knows she won’t miss. “Satine’s dead.”

‘You didn’t reap her soul,’ Ahsoka says. It’s said as a gentle reminder, but it nevertheless has Din feeling like the ground has disappeared beneath his feet as realization dawns.

“I...didn’t.”

A quiet sigh echoes through his head. ‘I forgot how ignorant you can be. You can’t reap a mortal soul that transforms into a new entity.’

“She’s a Cupid,” Din murmurs. Either that or a reaper, but he knows each of his reapers like the back of his hand and Satine isn’t nor has she ever been one. He shakes his head, thinking of Obi-Wan finding Satine’s body in the throne room. “That doesn’t make any sense. Obi-Wan clearly loved her.”

‘Rejection can sometimes stem from a misunderstanding. Satine’s last living encounter with Obi-Wan was him saying so long as he was part of the royal guard they had no future together. She perceived this as him denying he cared about her, not knowing he had made plans to retire in order to ask for her hand.’

In front of Din, Obi-Wan rubs at his soulmate marking while staring at the mess around him, lines of unease and confusion creasing his forehead.

‘You asked, what is the meaning of this moment?’ Ahsoka continues. ‘It’s one of the universe’s attempts to reconnect Obi-Wan and Satine so they experience their matching as they were intended to.’

“But they’re of different statuses,” he points out needlessly. “She’ll outlive him.”

‘Yes, but the matching of soulmates not only influences the lives of the pair, but the lives of other people as well in ways both obvious and invisible. Think of it as a ripple effect.’

“Did the universe’s attempt work?” Din wonders. “Were they ever reunited?”

‘When Satine awoke as a Cupid, it was a surprise to both her and Gideon. Rather than kill her a second time, the Seraph chose to inflict a worse fate. She became the first of her kind to have her memories erased. However, he’d never previously used his ability on another immortal before, resulting in him nearly wiping her entire mind clean. The universe is capable of many miracles, big and small, but every attempt of reuniting the pair failed. It remains the universe’s most profound regret which is ultimately the reason why the universe brought you to Trinomliaxeros without your armor so that history wouldn’t repeat itself.’

There is a strange, heavy feeling that suddenly inflates within the confines of Din’s chest like a balloon. It’s different from the rampant anger he can still detect simmering beneath the skin of his human façade. He tries to shake it off, focusing on his breathing and the desert heat emanating from the twin suns overhead, only to slowly realize that what he’s feeling is fear.

Within his memory he can recall just one other distinct moment in his existence where he felt this spine-chilling emotion, and that moment was experienced on Trinomliaxeros.

“What did you just say?” His voice sounds shaky even to his own ears, but he can’t find any energy within himself to care.

A long stretch of silence fills his head; it’s the fragile kind, too, preventing him from snapping at Ahsoka to answer lest she become angry at him and yank him out the vision entirely.

‘Twice the timing of a soulmate match has been disturbed. The first pair affected was Obi-Wan and Satine. And the second pair was...’

“Ahsoka,” he says when she hesitates to continue, but any additional words he can think of saying catch in the back of his throat.

‘The second pair was you and your angel.’ Another pause of silence, shorter but no less meaningful. ‘Only fifty years ago, she wasn’t an angel.’

This is what Din remembers from Trinomliaxeros: feeling a pull so forceful, impatient and unanticipated it drags him across the galaxy in his civilian clothes, arriving to find the planet engulfed in smoke, unable to see his hand in front of his face, even without his gloves on. Finding skeletal remains burnt to blackened crisps with the souls inside shaking and traumatized, practically leaping into his outstretched hand, knowing either the afterlife or damnation would be better destinations than lingering there even a second longer. Explosions in the distance, bursts of flames as intense and hot as the sun, greedily consuming everything in their radius.

Out of the smoke and darkness, a survivor. A girl, covered in soot and sweat, colliding with his chest. The dead are calling out to him, pleading for him to reap them, to save them. Their voices swirl around his head, clawing at his brain and pounding against his skull. Shoving the girl aside, one foot in front of the other, letting his powers guide him to the next soul. Her voice cuts across the distance, a plasma bolt striking him in the back. We’re soulmates, she says.

His breath stills in his lungs. Fear spreads like a virus through his bloodstream, slipping beneath his defenses, turning him into a stranger within his own body. The declaration is a lie, an impossibility, a delusion. He has no match, hands unmarked, flesh poisonous and lethal. His words, too, are weapons themselves. Sharp, ruthless, desiring to wound her as she’s wounded him. You could never be my soulmate.

And then he’d left her.

This is what Din remembers. But, he thinks, squeezing his eyes shut so tightly it hurts, I’ve remembered everything all wrong.

Phantom hands gently press against the sides of his helmet, offering comfort without caring about the dried blood. He keeps his eyes shut, knowing it’s just a manifestation crafted by Ahsoka in his head. ‘Don’t blame yourself. This was the only viable outcome the universe could produce to ensure the bad timing would be remedied in the future,’ she says, but it does little to lessen the weight on his chest. ‘Your rejection saved her life. It granted you both a second chance of a first meeting.’

“How did—” Din struggles to string words together, to fucking breathe. “She—She knew. What we were. How…?”

The Oracle puts him out of his misery. ‘She found out the way all soulmates do: through touch.’

Din’s eyes fly open at that, and he has to blink a few times to bring everything into focus because there’s him and his angel right in front of him, frozen mid-collision. She’s grasping the sleeves of his coat to keep her balance, the palm of her marked hand touching his wrist. He stares at the point of contact for a moment, then barks out a laugh, hysterical and strangled sounding.

“That’s not possible.”

‘Soulmates can’t kill each other. She’s always been meant to withstand your touch.’

Din swallows thickly, staring at his angel’s face. He hates the question forming on his tongue, but it will haunt him the rest of his life if he doesn’t ask it. “In your visions, when I meet her at the right time, what happens?”

'You’re different by then, less broody and more accepting of the notion you could be loved. You have a soulmate marking,’ Ahsoka tells him. ‘You fall for her hard, even before your hands brush. You love her throughout the entirety of her lifetime.’

“And...when she dies?” The words taste like blood in his mouth.

‘Don’t torture yourself, Death. That timeline doesn’t exist anymore.’

For one brief, fleeting second Din is actually grateful Gideon altered their destinies. However, in the next, he’s trying not to let the fear gnawing at the back of his mind increase as it belatedly occurs to him that the universe is not as infallible as he’s always believed it was.

He wishes he could see Ahsoka, if only so he could glare at her directly. “Everything you’ve shown me has only further convinced me Gideon deserves death. Why have you asked me to promise not to kill him?”

'Do you remember what happens after this moment on Trinomliaxeros?’

Din frowns at the change of subject. “I continued to reap souls.”

'Yes. And then?’

He huffs a frustrated breath through his nose. This is Ahsoka, he thinks, at her most annoying. But, as much he loathes admitting it, this is also the most helpfully transparent she’s ever been. Today may be the only time she trusts him enough to share her visions. He owes it to her to be as open as she’s being with him.

That being said, he’s still wary of the memories he’s kept in the distant, shadowy corners of his mind being pulled into the spotlight. “Tell me we’re not gonna talk about the kid.”

‘We talked about the universe’s biggest regret. It’s only fair we talk about yours too.’ Ahsoka has found the crack in his armor he’s tried so long to conceal, peeling it open without remorse.

She doesn’t spare him time to argue. All he does is blink and he’s looking at his past self locked in a staring contest with a little green-skinned child who is propped up inside a floating, orb-shaped pram.

Of all the buildings and homes on the planet, only its temple had remained untouched by the destruction. Din didn’t know if it had been the structure’s own holy foundation keeping it standing or if it was the personal choice of the mastermind behind the attack, but he’d been drawn to it regardless, finding souls there to reap whose hosts had differed from other victims in that their throats had been slit. The walls of the temple were adorned with intricate murals depicting immortal figures and religious events of ancient history, but before he could observe the artwork closer, a quiet coo had stopped him in his tracks.

When he opened the pram, he hadn’t anticipated finding a baby of all creatures. When their eyes connected, every background noise abruptly ceased. Even the voices of the dead fell silent. Rather than rouse his suspicions, Din had felt only a sense of peace he usually only experienced in the midst of hyperspace travel where the stars were his voiceless companions.

An unspoken conversation transpired between the two of them, one Din still can’t translate into words all these years later, but it concluded with him knowing he would take the child with him.

Din had reached for him unthinkingly, the child lifting his arms up in eagerness to be held, but self-awareness kicked in right before contact and Din retracted his hands away so fast it startled the child into crying, brown eyes filling with tears. Panicked, he surveyed the room, looking for something to put an end to the wailing, before looking down at his own coat, experiencing a lightbulb moment.

“Alright, kid, it’s okay. You’re okay.” Watching his past self shrug off the coat, Din remembers it had been his favorite of his civilian clothes, well worth the cost for its soft fabric and length. He managed to successfully swaddle the child, ensuring his arms were safely tucked away to prevent him endangering his life, and Din exhaled a quiet breath of relief when the tears dried up almost immediately.

However, the ensuing silence wasn’t as peaceful as the previous one. Both past and present Din turn at the sound of distant shuffling echoing off the temple walls from another room.

“Ignore it,” Din tells his past self. “Just take the kid and leave.”

But his plea goes unheard and the past remains unchanged. Ahsoka is silent inside his head, either because she knows he won’t accept any more comforting words or because she thinks he’s undeserving of them for choosing to leave the child behind in his pram, closing it when he starts to whine again, so Din can go investigate the noise.

Din exhales a quiet breath, fingers twitching restlessly at his sides as he watches himself stalk through the temple halls, checking each room he comes across. It’s strange, seeing himself from this perspective. The distanced viewpoint allows Din to glimpse new details he hadn’t been capable of noticing back then.

Such as the reappearance of a familiar Seraph emerging from the shadows to stab him in the back.

Here’s one of the perks about being Death: he can’t be killed. That fact doesn’t mean there haven’t been attempts though. As Death, people sometimes look at his armor as a challenge. Like if they can fire a shot or throw a knife at just the right angle, it’ll wound him and allow them to live longer. Simply put, all those people are idiots.

When he looks like a regular, unintimidating civilian, he’s also been involved in violent predicaments where someone’s attempted to mug him or where he’s tried to save someone else from a similarly sticky situation.

Armor or no armor though, he’s always walked away from these encounters completely unscathed.

Well. With the sole exception of Trinomliaxeros where he was mostly unscathed.

It wasn’t the first time Din had been stabbed before. Usually knife wounds felt like a mild pinch. More irritating than painful, similar to a splinter stuck in one’s thumb. Once the weapon was removed, the damage healed within seconds, leaving behind no scar or proof he was ever attacked.

Usually, is the keyword to note here.

Ahsoka freezes time right when the blade of the Lightsaber is driven straight through the center of Din’s body, bone and flesh as easy to slice through as melted butter. His agonized expression—eyes screwed shut and lips open in a silent scream—would be comical if Din didn’t remember the exact emotions he was feeling in that moment.

Instead of a pinch, it’d felt as if thousands of invisible hands were pulling and scratching at him, attempting to strip apart his human exterior layer by layer—peeling off skin, scraping away muscle and bone marrow, seeking to reach the core of himself where his powers resided.

‘Looks like it hurts,’ Ahsoka says. The return of her naturally calm and neutral tone of voice seems almost cruel given the frozen, graphic display.

Din again wishes he could glare at her. “Is this funny to you?”

‘The transformation of the Lightsaber into the Darksaber is anything but funny.’

Lost in recollection, he failed to notice until now how the blade of the Lightsaber has changed in color from white to black. It’s the same inky hue that absorbs the brown in his eyes, that had dyed his veins during the execution of Hess.

‘The Armorer specifically instructed the Lightsaber only be used against enemies. As a neutral entity, you are, by definition, no one’s ally or adversary. By stabbing you, the saber became corrupted. It is a consequence Gideon still has yet to fully realize the monumental repercussions of.’

Time resumes, Din’s past self collapsing onto the floor, pressing a hand to the throbbing hole in his chest, attention too consumed by the franticness of his powers struggling to repair the trauma to notice Gideon lingering behind him. The Seraph’s stunned look of shock lasts barely ten seconds, morphing into one of deep contemplation as his gaze flicked between the weapon and Din, before he vanished.

When Din recovered enough to stand, he teleported back to the child’s location at once. He needs to get the little guy as far away from here as possible, somewhere peaceful and safe. His planning came to an abrupt halt upon finding the pram open and empty, his coat shredded and scattered about the floor in pieces.

“Gideon took him.” It isn’t a question.

‘Yes,’ she confirms. ‘The child was the intended target of this siege.’

“Why?”

‘He’s...very special.’ There is something about how her voice hitches when she says ‘special’ that has Din’s instincts prickling with alertness, but he holds his tongue. ‘Gideon considers him a tool he can take advantage of.’

The ugly, tight mass of anger swells inside of him and presses against his lungs, resulting in a low growl slipping out of his mouth. He curses his own ineptitude. If he’d paid more attention, hadn’t allowed himself to be wounded, he could have subdued Gideon and spared both his angel and the child from being captured.

“I warned you once upon a time, there would be consequences if you released your darkness,” Ahsoka says, her voice no longer emitting from inside his head. The vision fades back into reality the same sudden, jarring way one wakes up from dreaming. It takes all of Din’s self-restraint not to perform a full-body shake. “Your control is slipping as your rage increases. It’s making you not think clearly which is exactly what Gideon wants. That is the reason I am asking you to promise you will not kill him.”

Put like that, Din no longer thinks her request sounds quite so outlandish, even though he does still remain in the dark as to what consequences exactly will unfold. Ahsoka has remained stubbornly tight-lipped about the topic from their very first encounter, claiming the universe is adamant she can only share the details with one other person and it isn’t him.

“He deserves to die for all he’s done,” Din says quietly, but he’s self-aware to know his resistance is beginning to crumble.

“Between you and me, I think so, too,” she admits in the same low tone. Her ocean eyes are dark and stormy, reflecting her internal turmoil. “But rules are made for a reason and we would be fools to carelessly overlook the consequences of breaking them.”

The accusatory note from earlier has returned with a vengeance. He’s not surprised—of course the universe would utilize the Oracle to express its disapproval—but aggravation still thrums through his veins.

“Hess played a hand in my soulmate’s fate. He called her a whore.” Din’s upper lip twitches with the urge to snarl. “I don’t regret what I did to him.”

Ahsoka sighs. “I was afraid you’d say that. When you swore your creed, you promised the universe you’d only reap a soul when their host’s time has reached its destined end. By killing Hess, you not only broke a sacred rule, you also broke your creed.”

Din recoils, feeling like he’s been stabbed with the Lightsaber all over again.

“...What?” The anger is gone, extinguished by the weight of the revelation. Confusion and wariness are quick to fill the void. “What does that mean?”

She looks away then, but not quick enough to hide her troubled expression. “I...don’t know.”

He blinks, mind scrambling to understand the implications. “Isn’t that your purpose? To know everything?”

“For the very first time, the future’s unclear to me,” she murmurs, eyes briefly turning cloudy as if she’s trying to take a peek at the potential timelines right then and there. She shakes her head a beat later, frowning. “There are many choices left to be made, each one capable of influencing the fate of the galaxy. It is not possible at this time for me to predict our upcoming reality, let alone your consequences. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Din says, because it’s the truth and he doesn’t like seeing her crestfallen expression. Fuck, he might actually consider her a friend after all.

Whatever happens, he thinks to himself, it can’t be any worse to deal with than being separated from his soulmate. If he can survive this, he can survive anything.

“The last promise I made was broken.” He bites back a wince at the memory of his angel’s pinky promise. “But if making another one is the only way you’ll take me to my soulmate, then you have my word. I won’t kill him.”

A ghost of a smile pulls at her lips before she grabs hold of one of his vambraces. “Take me to your ship. I will guide you to her location.”

“You don’t trust me to go alone?” he asks, unsure whether to be amused or indignant.

“No,” Ahsoka replies bluntly.

Din huffs. “Fine.”

“I may not be able to see much at the moment, but I know it’s never wise to turn down support. You’re going to need us.”

“Us?”

“It’s Bo-Katan’s choice to make, but you and I both know she’s never been one to back down from a fight. Especially once she learns Gideon is her sister’s murderer.”

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[red-talisman]

Some random, unbetaed snippets set during the Siji Manor arc in which I'm trying to process my Feelings about these two and about Wen Kexing's backstory. Spoilers for eps...mid-20s onward, I think, show canon only. CW for loudly implied, past, severe child abuse.

.

Even though Zhou Zishu has never slept so deeply beside another person since his master was still alive, he's too well-trained to forget just how dangerous the person at his side, ironically, actually is.

Every so often (when Chengling says something especially innocent, when sunlight glances a particular way off a kitchen knife, when Zhou Zishu smiles unprompted) he'll see Wen Kexing's eyes widen and his face go strangely blank, like a performer caught in the middle of switching out masks behind the curtain. It's the blankness that Zhou Zishu recognizes from the moments when Wen Kexing casually sets aside his gentlemanly front and leaves corpses in his wake.

The second most horrifying thing about it is the fact that Zhou Zishu can't sense any change in his qi - no focused heaviness of killing intent, no ozone tang of impending violence like a lightning strike. It's not because of the Nails slowly destroying his senses, either, but rather that this means Wen Kexing is either constantly on the edge of violence or the violence has simply settled so deeply that it's indistinguishable from his resting qi state.

The most horrifying thing about it, though, is what that implies about the years in which his shidi had been taken from him.

.

"In a faraway land," Wen Kexing whispers to him one night across the landscape of blankets between them, "there was a little dog who was taken by a demon king. One day, the demon king put him a cage with the other dogs, some little and some less so, with no food. When all the dogs cried for something to fill their bellies, the demon king laughed and told them that they had all the food they needed right there in the cage with them. The next morning, only the little dog was still alive, and he wasn't hungry any more. When the little dog begged to be let out, the demon king laughed again and said there was no need for that when there was still plenty of food left."

Earlier that day, Chengling had asked Wen Kexing where he learned to cook so well when not even the aunties in his sect knew how to use spices to cover the taste of meat that was still edible but on the edge of turning sour.

Wen Kexing stares at Zhou Zishu in the dim light of a lantern left by the window, eyes wide but his face not blank at all. Zhou Zishu smiles like a cracked window and reaches over to push the hair out of his face, letting his palm rest kindly on a sharp cheekbone.

.

The first time that the casual intimacy between them turns heated and hands slide inside of clothing, Zhou Zishu has to take a moment to chase down and silence the ghosts in his own head. When he finally lets out a breath and meets Wen Kexing's gaze, he realizes that the distance between them has suddenly widened into an abyss that he can't see the bottom of.

Without knowing where the traps are hidden, Zhou Zishu casually lets his body tilt against Wen Kexing's in a way that puts Wen Kexing at a higher eye level and doesn't block the range of either of his hands. There's a tension in Wen Kexing's body that makes Zhou Zishu's instincts want to reach for a weapon rather than a belt.

"Don't think this will get you out of making breakfast in the morning," Zhou Zishu scolds into Wen Kexing's shoulder, his teeth a relatively safe handspan away from Wen Kexing's throat, as though nothing fundamental between them has changed. Nothing has, really.

It takes a few breaths, but eventually Wen Kexing's body relaxes with the same careful mindfulness. "Wah, A-Xu," he whines, sounding almost normal, "my A-Xu, so cruel!"

Zhou Zishu scoffs. "Only when you want me to be, you spoiled brat."

Instead of the dramatic wailing that he expects, there's a pause, and then Zhou Zishu feels Wen Kexing silently shove his face into the thick hair piled loosely on top on Zhou Zishu's head and his arms under the shamelessly disheveled top layer of his robe.

It should feel weird or even invasive; Zhou Zishu has never been in the habit of so much touch unless it was for a mission or getting an excess of yang energy taken care of as efficiently as business allowed. But it doesn't, and to his own surprise and mixed emotions, he finds himself relaxing - naturally, this time- into the curl of Wen Kexing's body.

("It was never about pleasure, before," Wen Kexing whispers to him when there's no moon or lantern to soften the darkness.

(Zhou Zishu...could respond in a lot of different ways to everything that isn't being said. But it's late, and the Nails are aching, and neither of them can change the past.

("I don't know much about that either, but we have time to figure it out," he sighs drowsily.)

.

A small bird startles Zhou Zishu after lunch in the west courtyard. His senses of smell and taste are the worst by far, but sometimes his hearing will dip unexpectedly and the only way he can hide it is through lip-reading and suppressing any outward reaction. But when he doesn't hear the rustle of tiny wings, the sudden dart of the bird across his slowly narrowing peripheral vision makes him twitch and drop his wine cup.

Without missing a beat, Wen Kexing picks up a shelled piece of walnut from his stash and flicks it at the bird. The bird drops to the ground, dead.

"Well," says Zhou Zishu, reaching for the wine pot, "I suppose we have part of our dinner decided, then."

Wen Kexing blinks at him, then at the bird. Zhou Zishu wonders if he had even intended to act.

"A-Xu," he says, something evaluative in his tone, "how could you be so reckless? What if it'd been an assassin's bird? Or a messenger between two of our many enemies?"

"Then living here on a remote mountain surrounded by trees and wildlife is suddenly going to get a lot more interesting," he replies dryly.

"Perhaps I'll make you a feather bed, sewn with the finest silks and stuffed with only the softest feathers of our enemies' spies." Wen Kexing leans forward on an elbow over the table. "Perhaps I'll make lanterns from our enemies' skullcaps and the fat of their flesh to light your way at night so that you'll never stumble again. I'll set their heads on spears around the walls to scare away the evil spirits from your dreams."

"Aiya, what kind of man do you think I am that you would offer such ridiculous things?" This isn't about 'things' at all, Zhou Zishu knows, and doesn't look away from the bloody claws being held out in challenge. "I have my first shidi and my first disciple in the home of our master. What need do I have for anything else? If you want such things, you can take them somewhere else and come back when you're ready to be sensible about what I need."

Wen Kexing watches Zhou Zishu reach out to pick up one of his hands, turning it over to bare the wrist. They both know that, like this, even with half his martial arts gone, Zhou Zishu could slice through tendon and bone, open up a primary vein, block several key acupoints that would damage his internal energy before Wen Kexing could stop him.

Instead, Wen Kexing smiles and presses his bare wrist more firmly against Zhou Zishu's fingers. "I suppose A-Xu is right," he says softly.

[ashsurixsachiki]

did some more questions regarding to the karou and jinx ship, they aren’t mine question but i found them on tumblr! i can’t find the original poster, if anybody know them please let me know so i can give credit! anyway- enjoy! 1. Who has the cutest tickle laugh? has to be Jinx's, and that's one of the supporting reasons why karou tickles him. But Jinx refuses to accept its him and says it's karou. basically, they both find eachothers laughter cute 2. Who is ticklish in unusual places and where would that be? karou is actually, and that's his ears. whispering in his ears sometimes makes him smile lightly and some people get so confused from that. it's embarrassing for him. however, jinx knows he's ticklish there and doesn't mind nibbling his ears and karou squeals. It annoys the hell out of karou-- 3. Who gets cheer-up tickles? you might think jinx because he's a bit moody at times, but it's karou actually. the guy has anger issues sometimes and he just gets so upset and irritated sometimes. [offtopic, but theres this character that plays a huge role in karou's backstory/development, i'll introduce him too later because uhhh he's cool but twisted as hell; he's broken a plate of karou's shin for fun if it gives you an idea of how he is---]  jinx tries to help him feel better and lightly tickles him just to make him a bit happy again, he doesn't really go for a full blow out tickle fight; he's pretty sure forcing happiness onto karou wouldn't make him feel any better 4. Who takes advantage of the other one getting their arms stuck while taking off their shirt? jinx jinx jinx jinx jinxjixnjixnxinjxjxjjjinjxixjxjxjjxjjxjxjjshuheuhs---- okay so, the first time karou didn't expect it, but after the first few times, there is no way he trusted jinx to help him- it would go like this: in middle of conversation "-so the essay is like due on this friday and i told mr. bizuka to-...gh-oh..." karou mutters "what's wrong? are you okay...?" jinx asks "i'm stuck... one second"  "....you're stuck...?" ".......y-" "do you want heeeelp~?" "jinx i swear to god-" "okay i'll help you!!" "JINX I- stohOHOP!!!" "heh heh heh~!" but yeah, that's a snippet!

5. How did they discover each other’s ticklishness? on jinx's part, you know how you just randomly poke your close friends or friends sometimes, well, no i don't know that because i don't do that [yet]--- but anyway, he just casually poked karou on the sides and karou let out a squeak. it was sudden but it clicked

let's just say karou nearly died of course karou was going to get jinx back so that explains his part of finding out if jinx is ticklish or not 6. Who can’t take tickle bites? either of them, it's a living hell for both of them but it has more of an impact on jinx because he's human and karou isn't. what karou can't take is raspberries because it jams up his system sometimes and it makes it tickle more 7. Who has to be tickle-forced out of bed in the morning? i've already answered this before but basically both of them, most of the time jinx 8. Who gives up in a tickle fight? jinx, it's jinx all the time, he's easy to break down so making him beg is a piece of cake a few times has karou gave up, otherwise, good luck with that! 9. Who is in danger of getting hurt when attacking the other? shjiuwhjjesje karou---- jinx has a reflex to flail and struggle like a madman when he's tickled  so karou has to be careful sometimes. though when jinx enters the stage of curling into a ball then karou is a-okay!! jinx only flails when his worst spots are attacked 10. Who always provokes the other into tickling them and how? okay so, i kinda decided that jinx likes being tickled and he's fine with people knowing it except he gets to the people he know will tease him relentlessly about it. but yeah, jinx likes provoking karou to tickle him in response like hiding his stuff and then when karou goes to ask "Hey, have you seen my [insert thing]" jinx would say "yeah :D!! i hid it :D!!! what are you gonna do about it?" at the first couple times, karou would bicker back and forth with the boy before just giving in what he wants but after those times he would sigh and say "let's get down to business then." it scared jinx the first time--- 

[silentdescant]

for dvd commentary fic thing:

”Auguste holds his elbow as he steps in. He’s strong and steady, unmoving when Laurent sways. The water laps at his calf at the sudden movement when he loses his footing. He feels drunk from the humid air and Auguste’s calm and focused attention.

Laurent gets his second foot in the tub and shivers.

“Sit,” Auguste tells him. He holds onto Laurent’s arms as he carefully lowers himself down.

Auguste slides to his knees beside the tub. He’s still dressed; Laurent doesn’t know why he expected Auguste to join him in the water. Stupid. Wishful thinking.”

from exhale, which is another of my bathub series but pretty dark... but that's what makes it fun, right? :D

(warning: I'm gonna talk about substance abuse and CSA and incest, basically everything that's in the ao3 tags)

OKAY SO, first of all, I just have to say that I love this fic a LOT, and it was kind of inspired by some conversations i've had with friends, and I just really like exploring this kind of aching, caring sadness.

In this fic, Laurent is kind of a mess, by which I mean he's struggling in a lot of ways. Alcohol, drugs, self-harm, suicidal ideation, he's got it all. This is snippet is pretty early on, and I'm actually going to include one more bit from even earlier, because I think it sets up a lot of where Laurent's at, mentally:

But he goes in when Auguste tells him to, and he stands patiently by the door, clutching his elbows against the chill. He lifts his arms obediently when Auguste pulls his shirt over his head. He steps out of his sweatpants when Auguste nudges his calves.

The room fills with steam surprisingly quickly. Or maybe it’s just that Laurent doesn’t feel the passage of time the right way.

He's thin and cold and quiet and still and wearing sweatpants that are nothing like the tightly structured kind of clothes that we might expect from him, and he doesn't move unless prompted. He does move where Auguste puts him, without complaint, with hardly any acknowledgement to what Auguste is guiding him to do. He's not following the passage of time well (which is a recurring thing in this fic), and we don't know whether that's just him being unfocused, or if there are any substances at work.

In my mind, it's less about any particular substance, and more about how some prolonged substance abuse has disconnected Laurent from reality. I think that would be his goal when using any drugs, is to disconnect from the here and now and let time flow past him without his awareness, because Laurent as a character has a mind that just won't shut up. I think this Laurent really needs it to shut up.

Okay, getting into the segment you specifically asked me about:

Auguste holds his elbow as he steps in. He’s strong and steady, unmoving when Laurent sways. The water laps at his calf at the sudden movement when he loses his footing. He feels drunk from the humid air and Auguste’s calm and focused attention.

Laurent gets his second foot in the tub and shivers.

This is not Auguste's first time picking up the pieces. He's the steadfast rock that Laurent keeps bashing against. He doesn't tolerate any shyness, he just does what needs to be done and expects Laurent to follow his instructions (which Laurent does).

“Sit,” Auguste tells him. He holds onto Laurent’s arms as he carefully lowers himself down.

I think, even though they're both adults, that they both feel like Laurent is a child in this moment. Like this feels like bathtime for a little boy with dirty knees, and Laurent needs help standing, needs help sitting, needs help with everything. I think they're both leaning into that. I don't think either of them enjoys it, though.

Auguste slides to his knees beside the tub. He’s still dressed; Laurent doesn’t know why he expected Auguste to join him in the water. Stupid. Wishful thinking.

So when I was writing this, I had a backstory for Laurent in my mind that's similar to canon, that he was abused by his uncle, but of course Auguste doesn't die, and it's a modern AU, and there's all these differences, so instead of Laurent growing up independent, he's kept under his uncle's thumb for longer. And because Auguste didn't die, Laurent developed inappropriate feelings for him too. In Laurent's mind, Auguste loves him the way his uncle loved him, and Auguste can fill the void that his uncle left, and Laurent needs his family--and this need includes a sexual relationship.

Auguste is separate from their uncle, though; he's got this big, fancy house with an ornate, marble bathroom, gold fixtures and a claw foot tub. He's successful and independent, and good. He cares in a way that is innocent, and Laurent doesn't know how to handle that.

If this fic continued, I think it would linger on this phase of unrequited feelings for quite a long time, Laurent pining for Auguste and spiraling further and further down when Auguste continues to not return his feelings. Auguste doesn't think it's appropriate or right, and he definitely doesn't want to take advantage of Laurent in his compromised state of addiction and depression.

There are a couple of moments in this fic that I really really love: the first is when Laurent slips underwater to wet his hair and contemplates staying there and drowning himself. It's an idle thought and his desire to do that almost entirely focuses on Auguste's reaction. What would Auguste do? Auguste leans over him, watches him. What would he do if Laurent never surfaced? Would he save him? I think part of Laurent's struggle is that he wants Auguste to save him, he's always wanted Auguste to save him, and now he's acting out in more and more dangerous ways so Auguste will reach for him and keep him close and force him to be safe. It's how Laurent understands Auguste's care and love for him.

And then when the time comes for Laurent to rinse his hair again, Auguste doesn't let the same situation happen, he preempts it because he knows the kind of thoughts that were passing through Laurent's mind. He's not angry about it, he hardly even reacts when Laurent stays under the first time, but he just calmly won't let it happen again.

The other moment I really love is when Laurent stands up so that Auguste can wash his lower half. Laurent can't even balance himself, and he holds onto Auguste's shoulders and gets him wet, and Auguste doesn't even care. And then this (sorry for pasting such a long snippet):

He’s impassive when he reaches between Laurent’s legs and rubs the sponge between his cheeks, and he’s careful and gentle and disappointingly clinical when he cleans Laurent’s cock and the curly hair that surrounds it.

Laurent exhales harshly as he looks down at himself, and at the top of his brother’s head. Auguste doesn’t deserve this.

“I’ll trim it for you,” Auguste says, guessing at the source of Laurent’s frustration. “Wait here.”

He doesn’t need Laurent’s acknowledgement or agreement; he fetches the scissors he uses on his beard without another word. Laurent is surprised he didn’t go for the electric razor, but he’s glad; even just imagining the noise reverberating around this tiled room makes him shudder.

Laurent is ashamed of how he looks, how he's managed to become so unkempt and dirty and disgusting; he wants his brother to touch him sexually but can't even be surprised when Auguste's touch remains clinical. And then for Auguste to understand without Laurent even speaking, and for him to use his own scissors, feels incredibly intimate.

There's the first layer of just trusting Auguste with sharp objects around his genitals, but then the added intimacy of these being Auguste's personal grooming tools, the scissors he uses on his face, and there's even the expectation of something impersonal and automatic like the electric razor, but Auguste chose this quiet intimacy instead, and it connects them that much more, and makes Laurent want him and appreciate him that much more.

Okay I lied, there's one more line I want to touch on:

“I want you to stay here with me. I picked out a room for you.”

“Just me?” Laurent asks.

Auguste breezes past that. “It’s right next to mine.”

Auguste is incredibly aware of how Laurent feels about him. He doesn't actively encourage it, but he never shames Laurent for it either. He's never seriously uncomfortable about it, and it's an unspoken thing that he simply understands and accepts about Laurent. He goes on to let Laurent sleep in his room with him because he understands what Laurent needs and he thinks he can give that comfort and closeness without crossing a line; it's a negotiation and a form of harm reduction: if Laurent stays with him, he's safe and recovering. If he pushes Laurent away, the situation will get worse and he might lose Laurent completely.

The fic ends on a hopeful note, and in my mind I see it becoming a more incestuous relationship, but it's still just sad as hell, and neither of them are really happy even though they've come to this agreement and they're relieved and showing each other love in the moment.

Ahhh I just love this fic a lot; I loved the process of writing it, and I love how it turned out. I wanted to try to be more reserved in explaining some of the backstory and leave it up to interpretation, and I think it worked pretty well in this case, especially from Laurent's unreliable and unfocused POV.

Thank you for this snippet, I definitely had a lot of feelings about the whole fic. lol <3

[sincerelyella]

RAMifications Chapter 7 -  Kiss Me

Book: The Royal Romance (AU)

Pairings: Liam x MC (Ella)

Song Inspiration: Kiss Me by Ed Sheeran

Characters belong to Pixelberry; MC Ella Brooks belongs to me

A/N: This entire idea came from @burnsoslow​ and her unBEARable series featuring her OTP Drake and Alyssa. This is Ella’s backstory and how she met the love of her life King Liam of Cordonia and became his queen.

Catch up here

Big thank you to my beta reader/snippet looker-overer (?)/my biggest cheerleader @burnsoslow - always catching little details that my mind overlooks.

Warnings: Some swearing; hinting of 🍐 or 🍋?

Words: 2002

“Lady Ella. Might I have a word?”

Ella wasn’t sure about the protocol for inviting the King inside her bedroom … but this was his palace after all. She nodded and stepped back, allowing him to walk past her as she shut the door.

“Hello again, Your Majesty,” Ella put one foot behind the other in an attempt to curtsy when Constantine waved his hand in the air.

“There’s no need for that, dear,” he studied Ella for another moment before speaking again. “How are you feeling about Liam?”

“Your Majesty?” What the hell does that mean?

Constantine blew out a breath. “Are you here for wealth? Fame? A title? Why are you here? Liam needs stability above all right now, Ella. You … joining in the middle of the social season, having not been in Cordonia long and knowing nothing of our traditions … that concerns me. We have suitors that have prepared their entire lives to be queen. This could be potentially dangerous should our enemies see this as a weakness!”

Ella grit her teeth and clenched her jaw in an effort to hide her irritation. What the fuck? “Sir, if I may speak freely?”

He nodded and gestured for her to go ahead.

“Why are you trying to intimidate me?” She spat out.

The King was taken aback at her tone and could only blink as a response. He hadn’t expected this very small woman to behave this way. Ella continued speaking, not even waiting for him to respond. “I may not have prepared my whole life to be a queen of an entire country, but I’ve spent a majority of my adult life studying. Studying diplomacy, trade, investment … how to recognize when someone is going into cardiac arrest and bringing them back to life,” she said the last few words louder than the rest, unable to hide her aggravation. “I have no doubt that these other ladies studied hard to be queen. But did they study how to be a wife? How to console someone when they lost everything they own? How to be compassionate towards people of a lower stature? The people need a Queen that understands them. Liam needs someone that can be a queen AND a wife. I’ve embraced your country, as well as your traditions.”

Constantine gave her a questioning look.

“I know I have because instead of just being with the man I want to be with … I have to parade around with four other women trying to win him.” Ella’s eyes met his, not backing down from his stare.

He was momentarily speechless. No one had ever spoken to him that way, ever. Except maybe his wife, but he hardly paid attention to her and her ramblings anyway. This young woman was fiery, and he wasn’t sure if he liked that or not. “I am not here to intimidate you, Ella,” he finally said slowly. “We will see how the rest of the season goes. I want what’s best for my country, that’s all.”

“What’s best for your country is a successor that has it all. If he’s happy AND can run a country with someone that loves him, then I don’t see the problem … sir.” She had forgotten that she was speaking to the king. He could have her gone and back to California in a hot second if he wanted to.

Constantine carefully took in her words and nodded. “Alright, Ella. We’ll see what happens. You have a good night.” He turned and let himself out of the room.

Ella walked over, locked the door and pressed her back up against it. My mouth might get me in some serious trouble here. She finally went to get ready for bed, slipped into the comforter and fell into a deep sleep.

**

Soft, constant knocks on the door woke up Ella the next morning.

“I’m coming … sheesh,” she mumbled, stumbling out of bed and tripped over her comforter that her foot was caught in. “Oh shit!” She shrieked as she hit the ground and the knocking stopped for a second.

“Ella?”

“Um, yes! Just a second!” Real smooth. Ella picked herself up off the ground, threw the stupid comforter on the bed and rushed to the door to open it.

There stood Liam, leaning on the door frame wearing a white polo shirt that outlined his chest and arm muscles perfectly. She roamed her eyes down further to take in the navy blue slacks and brown loafers. Ohmigod. It’s entirely too early to look that good. She inadvertently sucked her bottom lip into her mouth.

Liam cleared his throat and tried to hide a smile when he noticed she was staring. “Good morning, Lady Ella. I wanted to stop by and see you before I headed in to meetings today. May I come in?”

Ella blinked and quickly nodded. She moved aside so he could walk in the door and she closed it behind him. “Good morning, Your Highness. I’m sorry if I-” She was interrupted by Liam’s mouth on hers. Ella strained on the tips of her toes to meet him so she could kiss him back with fervor. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pushed her tongue into his mouth and he groaned in response.

He could hardly control himself. As soon as he saw her open the door wearing a tank top - she wasn’t wearing a bra, dear God - and the shortest Hello Kitty pajama shorts known to man, his cock jumped in his pants and his mouth watered. She looked like a goddess, with all her dark hair piled on top of her head, and her sleepy disposition; he was so tempted to just take her right then and there. It took all of the effort he could muster to pull away from those soft lips. “I’m sorry, I … really just came to say good morning,” he said in between breaths.

“Sure … you did,” Ella panted and laughed breathlessly.

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to see you much today,” he said sadly. “My father and I have meetings and things to take care of before we leave.” Liam gulped. “Remember, we have to be, somewhat secretive, just until the social season ends,” he gave her a guilty look. He still kept his arms around her, not wanting to let go just yet. “I’m so sorry about this.”

“It’s alright, I knew what all this entailed. And I know you have things to do today. I have some interview that Bertrand set up so … I’ll be doing that,” she smiled up at him.

“I … can text you though, right?” That sounded so pathetic.

Ella giggled. “You’re so cute. Of course you can.”

Their intimate moment was interrupted by loud knocks at the door. “Ellaaaaaaa! Wake up sleepy heeeeead!”

“That must be Maxwell,” Ella whispered and they laughed. Liam leaned down to kiss her one last time before releasing her.

The door flew open. “Good morning sunshine!” Maxwell bounced into the room and stopped short when he saw Liam. “Hey buddy!” He grinned wide at the both of them.

“Good morning Maxwell,” Liam chuckled. “I need to get going, I’ll see you two later.” He grabbed Ella’s hand and squeezed it before walking out into the hallway.

“He came to … visit you huuuuh?” Max wiggled his eyebrows at Ella and she blushed.

“He just came to say good morning, that’s all.”

“Mmmhmmm. Is that what you crazy kids call it these days?”

She rolled her eyes but ignored his question entirely. “Okay, so I’m assuming you’re here to take me to get breakfast?”

“You are correct! Breakfast, the boutique, and then I’m also supposed to prep you for the interview. Bertrand will be here later to prep you some more!”

“Alright, let me get dressed really quick.”

**

45 minutes later, Max and Ella were eating in the dining hall. “So, what are they going to be asking me anyway?”

Max bit off a piece of bacon. “There’s only one person coming from Trend, her name is Ana de Luca. She’s pretty cool actually, the royal family and the nobles trust her with their interviews. Sometimes she brings Donnie Brine with CBC, but I don’t think he’s coming. She will most likely ask you about where you came from, what you did there, how you met the prince, how you feel about the prince, what would set you apart from the other suitors … things like that.” He shoved another piece of bacon in his mouth and washed it down with some coffee.

“Did you guys want me to be truthful or do you have some script for me to follow?”

Maxwell shook his head. “No, no, no, there’s no script. I’m sure Bertrand will want you to say things about House Beaumont … but, just be yourself. They want to know about Ella! So tell them,” he smiled reassuringly at her and continued eating.

A few hours later, after spending an hour in the boutique with Maxwell throwing all kinds of dresses over the fitting room door, she finally found a dress she loved. A black chiffon midi length dress with purple flowers on the bottom, it had an A-line silhouette and short sleeves. It was elegant enough for a daytime interview with the press, and was also Maxwell and Bertrand approved.

Ella sat in her bedroom with Maxwell, listening to him chatter away next to her about his new awesome playlist that he made. She was feeling her stomach twist with nerves, her hands clasped in her lap and she could feel her palms getting sweaty. She heard footsteps come right outside her door and knew it was Bertrand. Ella took a big breath in and let it out slowly. “You ready, Ella?” Max took her hand and squeezed it. “You’re going to do great!”

They both stood and walked out into the hallway meeting Bertrand and a petite woman with blond hair. “Hello,” Ella smiled.

“Hello, Lady Ella I presume?”

“Yes, Ana, allow me to introduce Lady Ella of House Beaumont. Lady Ella, this is Ana de Luca from Trend Magazine.”

Ella and Ana shook hands. “It’s a pleasure, Lady Ella. We are all very curious to know more about you.”

“Wonderful to meet you, Ana. Where are we having this interview?”

“In one of the ballrooms, I’ve had the crew set up already. Follow me.”

The four headed towards one of the open ballrooms, smaller than the other one Ella had seen a week ago. As they rounded the corner, Ella spotted two women coming towards them. One with jet black hair and the other with flaming red hair. The woman with the dark hair just looked at Ella curiously, while the other woman gave her the death stare. As Ana, Bertrand and Maxwell walked into the ballroom, Ella looked back at both women. The redhead walked up to her and snickered. “Well, well, well, look what we have here.”

[greyias]

@shanfamilydrama​​ asked:

Also I'm 👀👀 for more Grey Dantooine backstory/headcanons, pretty please!

Ask and ye shall receive! So I have this document in my sprawling, semi-organized SWTOR Scrivener file titled “Highwind Family History” that I apparently created *checks date* in May of 2017. And it is somehow over 4400 words long. (I will spare everyone and not copy pasta the thing). But it is interesting how pieces of 6.3 do dovetail into many aspects of it!

So, in fic form, I’ve hinted at Grey’s backstory, and talked about aspects of it here and there, but the entire story hasn’t come out yet -- mostly because it comes as a reveal in the story introducing her brother Draike, as part of an explanation on why their relationship is so strained and antagonistic.

But the TL;DR version of it is:

Grey was born on Dantooine, the second of Davin Onasi and Vainas Highwind’s three children. She grew up in the small farming community of the Khoonda Plains, in the wide countryside where an abandoned Jedi Enclave always loomed on the horizon. In some ways, the ruins always called to her, tantalizing and mysterious, promising adventure.

From the moment Vainas told little Grey of the Force and her adventures as a Jedi during the Great Galactic War, the little girl decided she would become a Jedi. In the way that some children want to grow up to be firefighters, Grey dreamed of being a hero just like her mother, of venturing out into the galaxy and saving the day. Lightsabers sounded so cool, the Force so amazing, it had to be her destiny. Why be a farmer when you could wield a laser sword? 

Her mother taught her the basics of the Force, mostly boring meditation. She dutifully attended those lessons, in the hopes that one day her mother would teach her the more advanced things. And maybe she’d have her own lightsaber and go on adventures too!

And then one fateful day, she got her wish.

(or, as a small snippet from an extensively reworked piece I wrote a few years put it:)

Grey took another deep breath in, feeling the warmth and surety of the Force as she followed its pull towards the old ruins of the abandoned Jedi Enclave. It was technically against the rules to be here, she’d been told time and time again that the area was off limits — too ancient and dangerous to be explored unescorted. But just as many times that her mother had warned her away from the ruins, she’d also talked about the importance of listening to and obeying the will of the Force. And so if the Force knew everything, then maybe it knew when there was an exception to her mother’s rules. And today the Force was practically singing from the ruins, telling her to follow her mother’s impossibly tall Togruta Jedi friend. Every step she took, she could feel the deep voice of the universe beckoning her further. Humming on some inaudible frequency that today was finally the day.

Her adventure as a Jedi was about to begin.

The Togruta Jedi mentioned here is Thyos Dae, and Vainas’s former Padawan. You see, Thyos came to Dantooine because of an Ancient Artifact McGuffin I hadn’t quite figured out, and had meant to beat a Sith and his followers there to remove said McGuffin from the Enclave. However, he gets sidetracked almost as soon as he lands, meeting up with his old Master (whom he thinks of like an older sister) in the marketplace. Vainas invites Thyos to stay with them since they live close enough to the ruins to give him a home base of sorts.

And so over the next few days, he divides his time between the ruins, and catching up with Vainas and bonding with her family. Until one of those days at the ruins, he finds he’s been followed by a curious little girl who is not as good at hiding as she thinks she is. Being a responsible adult, he resigns himself to escorting little Grey back, but on the way, something... feels wrong. So wrong, at one point, Grey stops heeding his advice and starts running.

And by the time they get back to the Highwind homestead, the house is ablaze--and the yard is littered with bodies. Of Davin. Of Vainas. And several felled attackers.

While he was away, that (currently unnamed) Sith had finally tracked down where the mysterious Togruta from the marketplace was staying, thinking that said McGuffin Artifact might be there. There were individuals strong in the Force inside, so to them it made sense to attack first, and ask questions later.

Curiously, the two Highwind boys are nowhere to be found -- and the search for them becomes Thyos’s personal mission. As well as taking care of the now orphaned Force sensitive child who is desperately shaking her mother’s body in an attempt to wake her.

Thyos, of course, feels responsible for all of the children. He feels that this is his fault, that he led his adversary here -- and he spends the rest of his life trying to do his best to parent all three of them in Vainas’s stead. 

Grey takes away a different lesson, though. She’d disobeyed her mother -- and in doing so was robbed of seeing her again, of ever getting to say goodbye. She had ignored the rules, and somehow, this is what happened when someone broke the rules. If she never disobeyed again, if she followed every single rule, then maybe no one she loved would ever die again. If she became the perfect Jedi, if she focused every bit of herself on that, then she could make it up to her mother.

And maybe if she was good enough... one day the Force would bring them back together. Because there is no death, there only is the Force. Or so she was told. And so she would tell herself every time she recited the Jedi Code.

This is of course, just the rationalizations of a traumatized child who has just lost her entire world. Trying to make sense of what is ultimately a senseless act. Outside of herself, no one would begin to blame her for something that is obviously completely out of her control. And so she creates this perfect ideal of a Jedi in her mind, a child’s idea of a hero that she never really shakes, even as an adult. It may not be who the Jedi really are--and she may rationalize anything to the contrary of this fragile world view. 

(Granted, the events at the end of Chapter 2 do a pretty good job of shattering that on their own. But I mean, at that point she’s COMMITTED.)

WHICH... brings us to 6.3! And with all of the above in mind, why this dialogue exchange unexpectedly punched me right in the feels.

Like I know it’s not the exact same, but as I was going through that scene, all I could think of was that Grey was not thinking about the events of KOTOR 1 or 2, but her first attempted, ill-fated trip to the ruins. (Something that she might have been thinking about the entire time, but trying to push to the back of her mind.) She thinks of the strange pull the Enclave had on her as a child, she thinks of the pain and suffering, the senseless deaths that were connected to this place.

Not the lives ended by an orbital bombardment, but the lives of two people she misses very much, even to this day.

And yet... she continues to walk further into the ruins, and closer to the darkness that Malgus has unleashed inside. Because she’s still not convinced she’s done enough, still hasn’t measured up against that childish ideal quite enough to make her mother proud.

[pinballwitxh]

to be human - imagine - obi-wan kenobi

summary: hidden from the jedi temple and it’s codes obi-wan kenobi ponders over the mental state of his padawan in the apartment of his lover, anakin’s half-sister.  they watch the sunrise together and share the pains they have, fearing anakin is giving into his anger. . .

warnings: light nsfw, waking up in the nude with some sweet caresses and kisses, nothing too saucy, BASICALLY FLUFFY AND CONCERNED OBI-WAN

a/n: i have FINALLY gotten to writing for my favorite jedi of all time, OBI-WAN KENOBI!  since i started writing fanfiction at the tender age of 12 (maybe idk it has been a LONG time) i have wanted to write a story with him.  so since i procrastinate and am so bad at updating stories i figured i can post snippets of the story i always wanted to write in forms of imagines!  maybe in time i can piece them together for a story but for now, enjoy this little piece i have written.

also a little backstory on the female character: she is anakin’s half-sister.  she does have midichlorians but about half the amount of her brother and that of a normal jedi.  so the Force is not as strong in her but it does make her very intuitive of everything around her and of the people she loves!

The sun had yet to appear past the skyline of the ever-buzzing Coruscant.  Stars were beginning to disappear and the faintest bit of blue began to creep over the darkness.  

Obi-Wan was perched up at the end of her bed, covered only by thin sheets.  With a wave of his hand he propped the window open, allowing the very early, brisk morning breeze to send shivers over his body.  It was always refreshing, though.

His thumb and forefinger were pressed together over the hair above his lip, repeating the same nervous motion over and over again.  He shook his head when he realized he was doing it again. He really needed to conceal his anxieties better.  Thinking about Anakin always raised his anxiety, though.

Anakin had been acting strange as of late and it sent ripples of disturbance in the Force.  He could feel it every so often, occurring more as time went on.  There was so much pent up anger, sadness, frustration, and perhaps a twinge of fear in the young Jedi. 

It pained Obi-Wan to no end that something was wrong with his Padawan, his brother, and that he wouldn’t talk to him about it.  

Why didn’t Anakin trust him?

“Why is it so cold?”

Obi-Wan jumped, “I opened the window, darling.  I’ll close-”

“No, you can keep it open.  I know you like fresh air when something’s heavy on your mind.” she sat up slowly and pulled the covers up over her bare chest, “So tell me, what’s got you pulling on your mustache now?”

He chuckled, “What else would?”

She sighed and hung her head with a sheepish smile, “He’s always been trouble, you know?”

Obi-Wan looked back towards the window, inhaling the fresh air, “More than lately, it seems.”

“I may not have the midichlorian numbers of a Jedi but I know when something is wrong with my brother and I’ve felt it too, Obi-Wan.” she placed a warm hand on his freckled shoulder.

He did not reply and kept his gaze on the brightening horizon outside of her window.  His brow furrowed in more thought and she moved closer to him, her hand traveling over his chest. He loved when she rubbed circles on his skin, it relaxed him.  She leaned her head on his shoulder and watched the sky lighten with him.

“Tell me what you’re thinking, please don’t shut me out like Ani does.” she whispered.

Obi-Wan looked down at her and kissed her forehead gently, “I don’t want to trouble you with my thoughts of your brother.”

“Whatever you’re thinking, I’m probably thinking too.  He is my brother, after all.  I know him as well as you do, Obi-Wan.”

He nodded thoughtfully before turning to watch the window again.  It took him a moment to gather his thoughts, what did he want to say?  What did he want to tell her?  

Obi-Wan held great fears for Anakin; he always had.  There were doubts that he did not share with anyone, not even Master Yoda.  

“Tell me everything, please.” she whispered shakily.

He took a deep breath, “I fear the Dark Side has a grip on Anakin that I cannot pull him from.”

She sat back on her haunches and pulled her knees to her chest, ready to listen.

“When he’s not out on missions he’s distracted and I can feel it.  It’s as if there’s a shadow that follows him, always behind him and encroaching on him,” 

He breathed a sigh of relief at having finally said it.

“The Council fears Palpatine has dark intentions for the Republic but Anakin disagrees.  He practically refused to relay information on him to the Council!” he shook his head, “I’ve never understood why he adores the Chancellor the way he does,” he whispered.

She nodded her head, “I told Anakin from the very beginning to be weary of him, politicians have never been my favorite.”

Obi-Wan smiled, “I believe that’s one of the reasons I took an interest in you in the first place.”

She shoved him playfully, “Politicians make you nervous, admit it.”

“Palpatine doesn’t make me nervous,” he paused, “He makes me suspicious and. . .angry.”

She uncurled her legs and sat next to him at the edge of her rickety bed, “You fear he’s taking Anakin from you, don’t you?”

“I have no attachment to-”

“He’s your Padawan, Obi-Wan!  Of course you fear it, I can sense that much.” she rolled her eyes, “How can the Jedi not believe in attachments?  Do you not see that you love Anakin as your own kin?  You are a human, Obi-Wan.  And to watch him believe Palpatine’s lies hurts you like it would anyone else.”

Obi-Wan shut his eyes, “It does more than that!” he shouted, pounding his fist on the mattress.

“Of course I love him, I’ve practically raised the boy and this is the thanks I get in return? After everything he’s been through, this is what he chooses? He’s supposed to be the Chosen One! I’ve taught him all that I can and it seems it wasn’t enough. . .it infuriates me that I can’t stop what’s coming!”

She sat back with her head hung low.  It brought tears to her eyes to see the man she loved in clear pain.  It brought tears to her eyes to finally know that Anakin was hiding things from her, just as she had suspected.  The men that had her heart were hurting in very different ways and she felt helpless.

Obi-Wan ran a hand over his face in frustration.  He was fighting hard to contain his emotions as the outburst he had was not normal for him.  His entire life he was taught to contain his emotions and by now he was an excellent actor.  

When he turned to look at his lover he could feel the walls beginning to crumble quickly.  

Her face was buried in her arms and her shoulders jerked every few seconds.  He knew she was trying to hide her tears from him, fearful that it made him uncomfortable. 

She was not bound to a Code, she should not have to hide her emotions from him or from anyone.  

He turned to face her and took her wrists in his calloused hands.  Slowly he pulled her arms apart and forced her to look at him.  His heart shattered at the tear tracks all over her face and the redness that took over her cheeks.  The color in her eyes stood out against the red and shone with the tears in them.

Gently he pushed the hair away from her face and smoothed it down before placing his hands on her cheeks, “You’re right, I do love Anakin as my own.  I would do anything to take away his suffering,”

She nodded, “I know you would,”

“From the moment I took him as my Padawan I swore to the Council, and to you, that I would protect him.  I will not break that promise, my dear.” he whispered before placing a soft kiss on her lips.

She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, nuzzling into his warm skin.  He could feel the chill of her tears on his shoulders, pulling her tighter to him as she began to sob quietly.   

“Look at the sun, darling,” he whispered.

She pulled away with a sniffle and followed his gaze outside the open window.  Obi-Wan moved behind her and pulled her tight to his chest, the warmth of her skin felt comforting against him.  

She leaned back into him and pulled his arms over her middle, the sheets pulled around them.  Obi-Wan’s chin settled in the crook of her neck as her intertwined his fingers with her smaller ones.  He closed his eyes and concentrated on the Force, finding it easier to connect with it when she was near him.  

She followed the rise and fall of his chest with her own breathing, the tears finally coming to a stop as she felt peace settle over them.

Finally the sun began to creep over the horizon, the sky-high buildings of Coruscant beginning to fade into mere silhouettes.

[strangergrove]

× VOL 001 × 04.19.2020 ×

TUMBLR | @bambixxblue AO3 | moonlight_xx

× these hearts adore (every other beat, the other one beats for) ×

WORD COUNT: 10,569

CHAPTERS: 2/?

My Tumblr prompt fics all in one place. Some pining, some angst, but usually always a damn happy ending.

1. peach, curve of an ear, coffee grounds, veined hands, thunder

2. ways to say 'i love you' - 'i brought you an umbrella.'

The writing in this is so exquisite. It feels like cracking open a favourite book on a rainy Sunday morning, when the rest of the world is still asleep. It's comforting and poetic and incredibly heartwarming.

The first chapter takes us along on a sweet little vacation to California, a last hurrah of sorts, before the kids head off to college. It's sweet and peach-soaked and you can feel the ocean breeze against your skin with every passing word. It's the exact brand of happiness our boys deserve.

The second part is an achingly beautiful redemption for Billy. He learns how to let his wounds heal, learns how to let others in, learns how to trust and love. His initial interactions when he meets Steve are so precious and it shows how complex of a person he is, the softness beneath his concrete shell. I will devour any update to this amazing collection.

× the light of day shows me how ×

WORD COUNT: 39,173

CHAPTERS: 7/7

And from Robin, a single picture: the official cast list.

ROMEO MONTAGUE...BILLY HARGROVE

JULIET “JULIAN” CAPULET...STEVE HARRINGTON

Ah, fuck.

(or, Steve and Billy are in ballet school. They're cast in LGBT+ Romeo and Juliet. Featuring mutual pining, angst to fluff, and an Ancient Slavic demon cult. It gets weird.)

This is such a fun read. The spattering of background into the story really carves out the characters so well, choreographing the story in such a way that you fall into their lives without realizing it. You sit down to watch Steve practice his role for Julian and suddenly find yourself wondering if that small stutter you just saw has anything to do with any number of little details you know of his past. You see Billy storm across the studio floor and know that he’s trying to bury something that keeps resurfacing, but he refuses to let anyone help him.

It’s wonderful watching the way the boys play off of each other, pushing one another to better themselves in both their dance and their personal lives. Watching Steve fumble with his newfound and confusing feelings is sweet, hopeful, just waiting, waiting for it to tip over the edge, for the boys to fall into the space they’ve always belong: by each other’s side.

I’ve never done ballet, only watched it here and there in movies and shows, but I fell in love with this story, the way their dances are described, their movements. So if you’ve never been that into ballet, don’t let that deter you from reading this story. It’s so much more than just ballet.

× friends should sleep in other beds ×

WORD COUNT: 13,517

CHAPTERS: 2/2

It isn’t easy being in love with your best friend.

It especially isn’t easy being in love with your best friend if he’s the practical-Godfather of your university.

(or, 'I won't let anyone hurt you; you're safe with me' prompt fill where Steve thinks his love is one-sided but it absolutely isn't. Feat. loving girlfriends and Hawaiian vacations.)

This story is beyond achingly stunning. It’s all whirlwinds and longing and the white-knuckle deathgrip of trying to hold onto something you’re convinced is going to slip away. The deep, binding relationship between Billy and Steve is beautiful and heartbreaking and hopeful at the same time. Both characters have obvious trenches of emotional trauma they’ve had to trudge through to get where they are, trenches they’re still slowly crawling their ways out of.

The words are so wonderfully crafted that I felt the sway and break of Steve’s emotions at the same time he did. I felt the longing, the sorrow, the sputtering flame of hope that just refuses to gutter and die. I want to say I wanted more of this story, but I don’t know if my heart could have handled it. No, it was the perfect length, detailing the long harrowing journey of love and friendship, of finding family that doesn’t come from blood, of holding desperately onto things that are worth the bruises they leave on your fingers.

TUMBLR | @cameorabbit AO3 | CaffeinatedBunny

× Life Is Sweet ×

WORD COUNT: 8,676

CHAPTERS: 4/4

Snapshots of domestic bliss, between loving boyfriends.

(This story will be marked as complete but I will be adding chapters as the muses come to me or when I need a break from some of my larger wip)

This wonderful little collection offers us a sweet insight into the boys' relationship. We get small glimpses into the boys' pasts that add layers to the stories. We get to see little snippets of Steve's relationship with his mother and grandmother. We get to see Billy's insecurities. 

Each story has it’s own little theme, if you will, from baking Christmas cookies to battling insecurities in their relationship. Each story gives us a little more, brings us a little deeper into these boys’ lives, adds that next layer to them that has you coming back to see how they’ve developed. I'm looking forward to any future additions to this collection.

× When I run out of road (You bring me Home) ×

WORD COUNT: 5,316

CHAPTERS: 1/1

The road back to Hawkins Indiana is long and tedious with neither of them really wanting to reach their destination; so to distract them both Billy has a plan to make it as pleasurable for both of them as he can.

Uffda. This was a fun read. Now, before I dive into the review, just a heads up: this is a PWP with dom/sub. And apologies in advance for my inability to be eloquent about smut.

The dynamic between the two was a joy to read. Steve's mannerisms as a baby and the way Billy handles him as his Daddy was fantastic. It's not heavy dom/sub here, but you can tell they've had this relationship for a while. They're both comfortable in their roles and both know exactly what they're doing, and how to get a rise out of each other. But between the power play and the drops of backstory, there's actually some beautiful writing here, too. There were a few lines that I found myself rereading just because they sounded beautiful.

Also, I just have to say... The way Billy handles his own cock... Why do I love that so much? Just little things, too, like tapping it against the steering wheel while he's teasing Steve.

× I'll Keep you Mine ×

WORD COUNT: 3,926

CHAPTERS: 1/1

Billy's forged a kingdom and took an empty throne, and he'll burn anyone and anything that tries to take it from him.

(My Dudes this whole story is pretty much the Grumpy Possessive one claims the Sunshine One - Literally. And I ain't even mad.)

Here we get a gorgeously written tale that spins the events of the Upside Down in a different light. I don't want to spoil what that is, as it's not explicitly stated in the summary or tags, so you'll have to read to find out! This idea could easily be fleshed out into a much longer piece, but there's also something about just getting a small taste of an idea that is very enjoyable.

There is this persistent sense of danger beneath all the beautiful imagery. It's in the pacing of the story, in the way Billy needs to claim Steve. We get enough of a taste of this otherness to want more, to want to see exactly how everything unfolds.

TUMBLR | @wickedlydevious AO3 | wickedlydevious

× Weak Hands, Weak Lungs, Strong Heart ×

SERIES: Strong Heart

WORD COUNT: 2,771

CHAPTERS: 1/1

After the events at Starcourt Mall, Billy is recovering in the hospital and bored out of his mind. The only bright spots are when Max comes to visit.

And then Steve Harrington starts visiting too and that's even better.

There is a very beautiful light and warmth throughout this story. Billy's character feels so accurate, and the way he deals with being in the hospital and everything that entails is exquisitely portrayed here. What Billy has to deal with in the wake of the Mind Flayer grates against his entire personality, but it forces him to step outside of his comfort zone, outside of himself, and relearn how to interact with people, namely Steve.

The thing I loved most about this story is that we get to see these different facets of Billy, facets that maybe even he didn't really know were there, ones he never allowed himself to show because of his father. Still recovering, still being dependent on other people forces these different aspects of him into the world, and it's beautiful. It creates this very special sort of relationship between Billy and Steve that is just so pure and heart warming. I'll definitely be coming back to this when I need a spark of joy.

× Weak Backbone, Strong Convictions ×

SERIES: Strong Heart

WORD COUNT: 3,212

CHAPTERS: 1/1

After the events at Starcourt Mall, Steve starts bringing Max to visit Billy at the hospital.

And then Steve starts visiting on his own.

The sweetness continues with the second part of the Strong Heart series. The events of the first part are retold, but this time through Steve's POV. I've always loved the idea of telling the same events from different perspectives and this did not disappoint. The events may be the same, but you feel them differently than when they were told through Billy's perspective. Though the tone of the previous installation is ultimately uplifting, it's clear Billy is struggling. This part, however, is overflowing with hope, which only adds to the already beautiful feeling of the last piece. Don't think that because you already know the events that will take place because you read the last part that you shouldn't read this one. It's beautiful and moving and there are moments added that would be a shame to miss out on. I really hope this series continues, because it is wonderfully uplifting, but it stands strong all the same, just as it is.

× T(h)ree Mistakes ×

WORD COUNT: 4,559

CHAPTERS: 1/1

It’s their first Christmas in their own apartment and Steve reluctantly tasks Billy with getting the tree.

Mistakes are made.

This is a great read for the holidays. Billy's tree-getting adventures brought back so many memories of going to the tree farm down the road from our house as a kid and making a day of trying to find a tree that didn't look like trash and wouldn't break the bank. The feel of the story is cozy and sweet, like a warm and sleepy holiday morning. The kids, now teens, make a short but fun appearance that really makes this story feel like it's about found family. 

This story is like coming home, rounding up all of your best friends you haven’t seen in ages, and making a night of the holidays. It’s sipping eggnog, the lights turned down low, and listening to the sweet croon of gentle music somewhere in the house. This story is comfort and happiness and love. Now I want some hot apple cider...

QUESTIONS? VISIT THE FAQ

FIND ALL VOLUMES HERE

[crystaljins]

Take a chance. | 02

Characters: Jungkook x Reader

Word count: 7.3K

Synopsis:   You should have known the second your business partner asked you to plan his best friend’s wedding as a favour that it was going to be nothing but trouble. Especially when it turns out he’s in love with said best friend. And dying of a deadly disease because of it.

Hanahaki!au

Notes: The first three parts of this fic went through at least three different drafts. I changed the approach and character features so many times that this story isn’t even recognisable from the initial draft. But, once I added ma boi Kim Seokjin, this story finally hit a place that I felt I could happily write. 

Warnings: Angst. Graphic depictions of vomiting. Mentions of illness and death.

Masterlist

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

“Thank you for meeting with me today.” The man says as he slides into his seat. He’s wearing dark sunglasses that obscure most of his face and a black bucket hat is pulled low over his brows. Perhaps he is trying to be inconspicuous, but the large trench coat and obvious attempt to conceal his identity just make him seem more suspicious. Not only that, the price tags hanging off his outfit clearly show that he’d only just bought them.

“What are you doing, Jin? Why’d you call me out here?” Seri hisses. She pauses to smile warmly at the waiter who hands her an ice latte topped with perhaps more whipped cream than is strictly necessary before turning back to her obnoxious co-worker. “Why are you dressed… like that?”

“So that I don’t attract attention to myself. Obviously.” Jin scolds. He leans forward to sniff suspiciously at his milkshake before reaching into a pocket in his trench coat and pulling out a large swirly straw. It’s infuriatingly childish. He glances side to side before placing it in his glass and taking a long sip.

“I’m going home.” Seri snaps, making to get up, but an arm shoots out and holds her in place.

“I’m sorry! I’ll be serious.” He promises, even as he takes another sip from the milkshake through the ridiculous straw. He does remove his sunglasses, though. “This is a matter that concerns not just you and me, but Jungkook and our… beloved… boss.” He begins to tear up at the final person on the list, and dabs awkwardly at the corner of his eyes. “We have to help her.”

“Help her what?” Seri questions, attention grabbed. Where her boss is involved, she is all ears. After all, you had given her a job when she’d been unemployed and desperate. And she’s determined to pay that back by being the best employee she could possibly be.

“Help her with her illness.” He confesses gravely. Seri’s eyes go wide as her mind scans through the long list of illnesses her beloved boss could possibly be suffering from. “She’s suffering from Hanahaki.”

The deathly silence that follows is testament to how much both workers care for their boss. The colour drains from Seri’s face while Jin looks down and another tear trails down his face.

“How… how can you be sure?” Seri breathes. Jin shakes his head gravely.

“Do you remember a couple of weeks ago when I lost that bet and had to take garbage out for a week?” Jin asks. Seri nods contemplatively as she remembers the event in question.

“You bet you could down 2 L of milk in one go but ended up spraying it out your nose all over Jungkook’s desk.” She recalls. He nods gravely.

“Well, I kind of tripped when I was getting close to the garbage and the whole garbage bag split open.” He explains. He pauses mid-explanation to take another unnecessarily long sip of his milkshake, one that has Seri twitching in dread and anticipation as she waits for him to finish his story. “And there were these red rose petals everywhere.”

Seri nods, but then frowns.

“But what does that have to do with (Y/N)? We sometimes get petals in or bouquets as samples for future decorations and two weeks ago she was doing that red themed wedding.” Seri points out. Jin nods solemnly.

“Well that’s why I didn’t think anything of it at the time. It wasn’t until yesterday, when (Y/N) brought up Hanahaki and was super shifty and blatantly lying about why it was on her mind that I got suspicious.” Jin admits. “So that night I went home and rang her brother, because he’s actually a doctor who specialises in treating Hanahaki. Just to ask some questions, but he was surprised and thought that maybe someone from our office was suffering from it, because (Y/N) had rung him too,asking about it right before me.”

“That is very suspicious.” Seri admits, and the evidence is starting to stack up. But there’s one vital piece of information she needs to believe Jin. “But who is she in love with, that doesn’t love her back? And how can we help her?”

Jin smiles widely and leans back in his chair.

“I was hoping you’d ask me that, dear, sweet, naïve Seri.” He tells her warmly, and all traces of his earlier tears have vanished from his face. “It’s none other than our resident space cadet, Jeon Jungkook.” He announces with all the dramatic flair of an actor presenting Best Picture at the Oscars. Seri grimaces.

“Jungkook?” She questions incredulously. Up until that point, Jin’s theory had sounded plausible but now it just sounds ridiculous. “You think she’s in love with Jungkook? The same guy I caught trying to sneak in a new printer without her noticing last week because he spilt banana milk on the old one?”

Jin nods, as if it is the most logical and reasonable conclusion to draw in the world.

“Well, not to be presumptuous, but yes. Can you think of anyone else? Also, haven’t you always been suspicious of the fact that they literally built a business from the ground up together and yet there’s nothing there?” Jin points out. Seri seems surprised.

“Why would starting a business together mean there has to be something romantic between them?” She responds. Jin looks mildly astonished before understanding sets in his expression.

“Ah, I forgot you’ve only been here a couple of months. Yes, Jungkook and (Y/N) started this business together. It was probably like… five years ago? They’d been running for about two years when that video of that wedding she organised went viral and then they hired me to handle the extra clientele that came in, so that sounds about right.” Jin says, launching into an explanation. “But their whole story is fresh out of a romcom- (Y/N) met him after her fiancée dumped her for dropping out of some sort of prestigious uni degree or something at some bar and he had some sad backstory as well that I can’t remember and encouraged her to follow her dreams. And then he ran into her again and helped her get her first client and then after two years of struggling to make ends meet that video went viral and here we are today, successful and happy. How can there be nothing after all of that?” He explains. Seri wrinkles her nose- despite her short amount of time working at this firm, she knows enough of the story to know Jin is butchering the story a lot.

What had actually happened, was that you taken a year off law school when your mother’s health had started to decline. Your brother had been forced to financially support the two of you by working ludicrous hours while you cared for her physical needs. Your fiancée, unable to cope with the emotional strain such an event had put on the relationship, coupled with the lack of time that came with caring for a sick relative, had left you. In the end, you had wound up working at a bar and unable to bring yourself to go back to law school after your mother passed away. The very same bar that Jungkook happened to frequent. After confiding in the sad, unemployed drunk boy you thought wasn’t listening over a period of time about your heartbreak and your desire to go into wedding planning instead of law school, it turned out he had been listening. Not only that, but he had a proposal for you- he, a business major, and you, a wedding planner, could start a business together. That way you wouldn’t have to go back to law school, and he would no longer be unemployed and nearly homeless. At least, that’s what she’d been able to glean from snippets of conversation she’s had with the both of you over the past couple of months.

Still, even though his story is still warped the original point still stands: Jungkook is clearly someone who matters to you, a lot. Yes, it was the video that went viral that made your business successful but you wouldn’t have even started this business without Jungkook. Jin makes a compelling argument- the coincidental timing of your chosen conversation topic the day before, and Jin happening to find the rose petals… it is all very shifty. Even Seri has to admit that.

But Jin isn’t done, and his next piece of evidence is perhaps the nail in the coffin.

“And she asked me this morning to start preparing a job ad for a new assistant. She said Jeon Jungkook is officially taking leave as of today- that’s why he didn’t show up and why we were flat out all day.” Jin points out urgently. “And I left my wallet in my car this morning and just so happened to be ducking down to get it, when I saw Jungkook’s car pulling out of the building. Which means he came in to work today! And when I watched the CCTV footage to check-“

“Woah, woah, woah, Jin!” Seri cuts him off in protest. “We aren’t criminal detectives! You can’t just watch CCTV footage of your boss because you want to-“

“That’s not important. What’s important is they had some sort of fight this morning and clearly, it’s because (Y/N) is in love with Jungkook, is dying of Hanahaki and we need to make Jungkook fall for her or we could lose our jobs. And the nicest boss anyone has ever had.” He exclaims, almost out of breath from his rant. Seri blinks. She wants to disagree. She really does. She wants to write Jin off as crazy and perhaps report him to you.

But… what if he’s right? What if you’re dying because your airheaded assistant doesn’t reciprocate your feelings? If he’s right, then they have to help you! She bites her lip contemplatively.

“Why can’t she just get treatment? We could sit her down and encourage her to see a doctor- isn’t her brother a leading specialist in the disease?” Seri points out. Jin shoots her a look like she’s just made the stupidest suggestion in the world.

“Don’t you know what treatment involves? It makes you forget the person who gave you Hanahaki forever. If she forgot Jungkook how can they run this business together?” He cries out. Seri is pretty sure she read something somewhere, back when she was researching the disease for herself that said that the ‘forget your love’ aspect of Hanahaki is just an urbanised myth and only the most severe cases of Hanahaki that have gone untreated for years require such dramatic action, and even those have been able to be successfully treated with just therapy in certain patients, but Jin sounds so convinced and sure of his words that it makes her doubt herself.

“What... what would you have us do?” She asks, rather than contradict what he just said. She cringes as she says the words because she knows she may regret this strongly depending on what Jin asks.

He merely grins.

“I’m glad you asked, dear Seri, because I already have a mastermind plan in place…”

++

“Yes, I understand that you want all black for your decorations,” You say, desperately clinging on to your patience. “But black roses aren’t really a thing. If you just agreed to the black baccara roses-“

“They’re still red.” Your client on the other end of the phone sniffs. “I want black.”

“Then having them painted is your best option.” You retort. “I told you I’d do my best to give you the wedding of your dreams but I’m not a miracle worker- you can’t grow black roses!”

“Please? It’s really important to us.” He begs. You dig your fingers into the bridge of your nose and sigh.

“I’ll see if I can speak to some plant breeders and see if we can get something closer to black.” You say with a sigh. “That’s the best I can do.”

You don’t hear whatever he says because you are distracted by the presence of Jungkook leaning awkwardly against the door to your apartment. When he spots you, his whole face lights up and he straightens. You wince as he waves enthusiastically. He’s not in his usual crumpled suit- instead he’s wearing an oversized hoodie and a pair of trackpants and he hasn’t even attempted to tame his wild mop of hair. Oddly, he looks amazing in the casual, comfortable look he’s going for.

“You’re here!” He greets. You watch him cautiously like he is a furious bull that may charge at any moment.

“It’s my apartment. Where else would I go?” You point out. “Shouldn’t you be at home resting?”

He nods sheepishly.

“Well… I did take the day off.” He admits. “But I thought you might have had a long day without me, what with no one to replace the vital work that I do, so I brought some supplies.”

You stiffen. You have had a long day, and that is to be expected when you force your business partner to take an unplanned leave.  To be honest, you aren’t even sure what half of Jungkook’s duties are. You’ve just always done your thing, talking to clients, make plans, connecting with people, and then at the end you’d have money in your bank account. Jungkook has always handled your marketing and connecting clients and managing appointments while keeping the office running smoothly. Without him, you’d had to answer phones, contact the accountant and fill out complex paperwork between and in the middle of appointments with. Seokjin and Seri had done their best to share the load but even they’d felt the strain by the end of the day.

“I’m not changing my mind, if that’s why you’re here.” You sniff, stepping passed him to unlock the door. He presses in close and follows you into your apartment even though he is not welcome. He looks around curiously as soon as he steps passed the threshold of your home.

“This is a really lovely place.” He compliments sincerely- it should be surprising that this is the first time he’s ever step foot in your apartment considering the fact that you’ve been running a business with him for five years now. Even Seri, who has only been working with you for a couple of months, has visited your home before. But before this whole wedding debacle, Jungkook had always refused. He sidles past you and sets a plastic bag up on the countertop in your kitchen. He glances back at you before rummaging inside. “I realised I have no idea what you like to eat, so I read that interview you did with that bridal magazine a few months ago.” He says, and then he pulls out a block of chocolate, some grapes and a bottle of wine. You squint suspiciously at them.

“Jungkook…” You say slowly, about to ask him to leave your home and take the food with them. Yes, they were all guilty pleasures of yours, but you weren’t about to give him false hope that you would rescind your decision. “I’m not going to plan the wedding.” Is what you say instead.

He ignores you, turning to a cupboard and pulling out two wine glasses. He sets them on the counter and immediately begins pouring out the wine. Then he leans against the countertop beside you and sighs heavily, as if the weight of the world is on his shoulders.

“Why?” He finally asks. He takes a long sip of his own glass, sliding yours toward you. Hesitantly, you accept and settle into a stool next to the counter. “It’s not going to stop the wedding. It’s not going to cure me. And I’ll still be involved in the wedding whether you plan it or not. What do you think you’re achieving by refusing?”

You stare down at the ruby liquid in the glass- your distorted reflection glares back. He’s right. You’re not achieving anything. You’re just sticking your head in the sand and pretending Jungkook’s situation isn’t happening until it magically fixes itself. But that’s all you really can do, right? You can’t force him to get treatment and you can’t make his best friend love him back. These are all doubts that plague you, but if you are anything, it is stubborn. Your blood runs hot with anger at the way he’s trying to pressure you into something you’ve already decided not to do.

“Why are you so desperate for me to plan this wedding anyway?” You question, hopping off the stool and edging closer until he is pressed against the kitchen counter. At this proximity you can count each of his individual lashes and feel the way his breath has become shallower and hesitant. It’s out of anger that you press closer. You’re trying to intimidate him into backing off and leaving you to deal with the consequences of your decision in peace. His eyes flash at the challenge though.

“Why are you so determined to refuse?” He retorts. “Up until the engagement party, you were all for planning this wedding! What, suddenly things get a teensy bit more complicated and you’re out?”

“Finding out my business partner is dying from a curable illness is not a “teensy bit more complicated”, Jungkook!” You cry, the volume of your voice escalating. Any louder and your neighbours will probably call the cops on you. “Why aren’t you taking this seriously?”

“I am taking this seriously!” Jungkook shouts. It’s the first time in all the years that you’ve known him that you’ve ever seen him lose his temper. His whole face goes bright red and the tendons in his neck strain with the force of his shout. “That’s all I’ve been doing! Every, single, damn day, all I can think about is how hard this is! You think I want to be sick? You think I want to be here, begging my boss to plan the wedding for the girl that I love? Why do you have to fight me at every single step- why can’t you just do me this one favour? All I’m asking you to do is to plan a wedding for a friend and turn a blind eye when you see I’m having a hard time- is that so hard to do?”

“Yes.” You breathe, and your eyes have watered and filled with tears at his words. “I don’t want to have to watch your heart break.” You finally admit. Because that’s the real reason. You can’t stop the fast approaching train-wreck that Jungkook has managed to lock himself into. But you sure as hell don’t have to watch it happen. “I don’t want to watch you slowly die.”

Your admission is met with silence and when you shoot a glance at Jungkook, he’s staring at you like you’ve grown a third eye. Abruptly he breaks eye contact and his shoulders hunch.

“Let me come back to work.” He says in a small voice. “I know you think you’re helping me, but you’re just leaving me at home alone with nothing to dwell on but the fact that I’m ill and…” His voice cracks. “That she…” He whirls around so that he’s no longer facing you and is unable to finish his sentence. He changes the subject. “Wow, I didn’t know my boss was so heartless,” He tries to joke, his tone falsely light, but his voice is still slightly shaky. “5 years together and you give me the axe just because I’m a little sick.” He shakes his head and makes a “tsk” sound. “Success has really changed you, (Y/N).”

You recognise now, that his attempt to joke around is his way of hiding, so you aren’t offended. Instead, getting slowly to your feet, you pack everything into the bag he brought with him and walk around the kitchen counter so that you’re facing him. He winces and looks towards the ceiling, perhaps to conceal the way his eyes are wet with tears and red-rimmed. Gently, you take his hand and place the handles of the plastic bag in it, wrapping his fingers around them.

“Jungkook.” You say softly. “I’m not doing this because I thought this would easy or because I don’t like you or because I think your job is replaceable or because I’m trying to punish you. I’m not doing it to make your life difficult. You’re sick, Jungkook, and sick people need rest.”

He stares at you with bewildered, pleading eyes. It is an exact repeat of earlier that morning when you had told him to take time off.

“There are other wedding planners.” You tell him gently. “She’ll live even if I don’t plan it for her.”

He stares down at the bag in his hand.

“But what if I… if she really wants you to do it?” He asks, even as he lets you guide him gently out the door. You don’t notice his slip.

“Well sometimes we don’t always get what we want Jungkook. But as your boss it’s my job to make sure you get what you need. And what you need is some time off.” You say. He seems to register he’s fighting a losing battle as the door swings shut- his hand flies out before you can fully close it.

“What would it take?” He pleads. “Hypothetically. If you could have anything in the world, what would it take for you to do this?”

You grimace.

“For you not to be sick.”

++

For all your bravado over forcing Jungkook to take leave, it really does make your life infinitely harder. Jungkook is a scatter-brain prone to double booking appointments and breaking expensive electronics, but his job really is irreplaceable- he hasn’t just been an assistant, or receptionist. His job was never as simple as answering phones and calling in the technician when he broke the printer yet again. He also managed the entire business side of things- from organising how much clients would pay for your services, to drafting contracts with them, to the entire marketing side of things, it had always been him to deal with that sort of thing. And it had been stupid and arrogant of you to think you could handle your regular duties on top of his. In your head, you had planned to look for a temporary replacement to work for maybe a year while Jungkook sorted himself out, but you barely have time for your own job, let alone searching for a replacement and training them up on top of managing Jungkook’s duties in the mean time. You’ve really screwed yourself over with such a hasty decision.

Your employees are quick to vocally and aggressively remind you of what a mistake it is to have put Jungkook on leave.

“My keyboard still doesn’t work.” Jin sniffs at you in the kitchenette, repeatedly dunking a bag of chamomile tea aggressively into a mug of boiling water. “I thought you said you were looking into fixing that! I can’t type anything and I’ve had two brides organising a wedding and a mother organising a first birthday party call me in tears because I didn’t answer their emails.”

“Well, you didn’t have to spill orange juice on it now, did you?” You almost snarl- you find your temper becoming shorter and shorter the more stressed and tired you are. It’s getting to the point that you’re hardly getting any sleep at night because you’re essentially doing two full time jobs at once. Jin’s eyebrows fly up, seeming to sense that you’re on the verge of snapping at him, and holds two hands up in a gesture of surrender.

“I’m sorry- It was an accident. But it’s really very urgent.” He tells you, and he sounds apologetic enough that you take a deep breath to release the tension built up in your shoulders and neck.

“I know. I’m sorry for getting short with you- I am trying to sort it out. I just have a lot on my plate at the moment.” You admit, and you feel on the verge of tears. Jin’s expression softens at your wobbly tone and he comes to stand next to you, resting against the kitchenette counter.

“Maybe we should give Jungkook a call.” He suggests gently. You tense, about to scold him for such a suggestion, but he holds up a firm hand. “I don’t know what happened or why you put him on leave, but you’re really struggling. If he does need the leave, then at least keep him around until you find a proper replacement- doing two jobs at once like this isn’t sustainable.” He points out. You wince because if it weren’t for your own stubbornness, you probably would have done as much. But you can’t- your pride won’t let you. You’ve decided that Jungkook needs leave and so he’s getting leave. Even if it kills you in the process.

Jin isn’t the only one- later in the week Seri knocks on your door. She strides in without waiting for an answer and leans in close so the two clients across from you don’t hear what she says.

“I just got a call from the bank- apparently there was an issue with billing that florist we contracted. I took down their number for you to ring them when you’re done with your client.” She informs you, flicking a gaze at the two clients before you.

Her interruption, though bearing bad news, is welcome- she’s interrupted two clients on the verge of screeching at you in rage. There was a mix-up with the venue bookings that you forgot to sort out between the flurry of phone calls you’ve been heckled with all day and they are not pleased. You’re barely holding back frustrated tears while Seri watches on, uncertain how to handle the situation. You take a deep breath, summoning all the professionalism you can access and smile at her.

“I will have that sorted after I deal with these two clie-“ You begin, but they cut you off.

“Don’t bother!” The one on the right, a woman in her late thirties’, snarls. She’s clinging to her fiancé’s arm like a hole might open up beneath her and demons appear to drag her to the depths of hell if she lets go. “We came here because we’ve heard so many good things about your service, but clearly it was all just good marketing- we won’t be coming back.”

She gets abruptly to her feet and storms off, dragging her balding fiancé with her. You take a shaky breath and squeeze your eyes shut, willing the tears not to come.

“Perhaps… I should call Jungkook? He’s really good with this kind of thing.” Seri suggests, and it’s so not the suggestion you need right now.

“Don’t.” You say. “My afternoon appointment just cancelled as you just saw- I’m free to speak with the bank right now.”

Your week carries on like that. You’re at your wits end by the time Friday comes around. You’ve promised yourself that you won’t do anything related to work for the entire afternoon. You’re going to ignore all the deadlines. Your business won’t crumble just because you took a Friday afternoon off, after all. At least that’s what you tell yourself as you take on your final task of the day- carrying a heavy box of fragile but expensive glasses that a client ordered in for clients to drink out of during their reception. You stagger as evenly as you can into the elevator and that’s when it happens- your heel snaps. It’s not a particularly high heel- just high enough that your ankle twists beneath you as it gives. You cry out, bracing yourself to crash to the floor and for the delicate goods you are carrying to shatter.

Only, it never comes. As you crumple to the ground, the weight of the box abruptly vanishes from your arms. Instead it is just you that hits the floor of the elevator with a pained grunt. Confused, you look up to find someone has grabbed the box from your arms before it could hit the floor with you and shatter all the contents inside.

“Are you ok?” Jungkook cries, gently setting down the box and crouching down before you. You’re so shocked that you are speechless. His large glasses are slightly lopsided on his face and he’s wearing a t shirt with a pair of ripped jeans. He’s not wearing the business attire that is required of all your employees- instead he’s dressed casually, like he didn’t plan on coming into the office today.

“W-what are you doing here?” You finally find your voice as he helps you to your feet. You wince as you attempt to press your weight into the foot with the broken heel and crumple back down- no doubt you sprained it on your way down. Jungkook’s eyes are wide with concern.

“Jin called me in for something urgent-“ He explains but he’s too distracted by your injury to provide the full story. “Did you hurt yourself?” He questions. You glance down at your leg- you move your ankle and wince when you find it too painful to rotate.

“Probably just a sprain.” You explain and he nods.

“I’ll help you, then,” He says quickly. “There’s a first aid kit in my office- or there was, if you haven’t cleaned it out yet.”

“Thank you.” You say quietly. “I haven’t touched your things. But you really shouldn’t be here-“

Your words are interrupted by the sudden flashing of the light in the elevator and a screeching noise.

The elevator is stuck.

++

“That’s your mastermind plan to help (Y/N)? Trapping them in an elevator together?” Seri sniffs, as she realises what Jin has done, watching Jungkook and her boss through the small security camera. They remain crouched down, close to the ground and she can’t see their expressions. “What if they get hurt?”

“Clearly you’ve never watched any kind of romcom ever, Seri.” Jin tuts. “This is a basic strategy- and this is just us getting started! Phase one! We just need to force them into the same space and hopefully the confined space will lead to them opening up! Besides, don’t act so surprised- there’s much more work we have to do than this before Jungkook-”

“Why did you agree to this?” She interrupts, directing her question to the elevator technician who has unscrewed the control panel and is fidgeting with the wires. He pauses, resting a hand on his chin as he contemplates the answer.

“For love.” He answers fondly. “But also, Seokjin here paid me $50 if I made sure they were trapped in an elevator together for the next twenty minutes.”

Seri whirls on Jin, the expression on her face utterly despairing.

“What… what else do you have planned?” She asks incredulously, pale and concerned for the wellbeing of not only her boss, but Jungkook as well. Jin considers her question for a moment, before shrugging.

“It’s a surprise.” He answers with a grin.

++

“How’s your ankle?” Jungkook asks awkwardly. For the past five minutes after ringing for help with the emergency button and being assured that the elevator technician was already working on it, the two of you had been sitting in a deathly silence. With Jungkook’s help, you had manoeuvred so that you now lean against the wall of the elevator, your sprained ankle stretched out in front of you. Your broken, useless heels are discarded in the corner. Your eyes are shut so that you don’t have to acknowledge his presence and can feign sleeping.

“The same as it was 5 minutes ago.” You answer, without opening your eyes. “Swollen. Painful. Will probably be better in a few days.”

You hear a tapping sound and know that Jungkook is probably bouncing his knee up and down. He has a lot of restless energy and a lot of pens have been dismantled at his desk from his fidgeting and a lot of office chairs have met their end because he’s constantly rocking back and forth. It’s a good indicator for when he’s about to strike up conversation- the noise stops, and he inhales like he’s formulating a question.

“How’s the office been?” He asks. “Without me? Is everyone coping alright?”

Not really. But you’re not about to tell him that.

“They’re fine. The others are urging me to find a replacement and I’m sure we’ll find one soon.” You say. Your sentences are clipped, and your tone isn’t unfriendly, but it isn’t exactly warm either. You’re trying to discourage conversation because if Jungkook inquires more into how your week played out, you may burst into tears. The last thing you want is for him to know what a hard time you are having without him.

He starts to whistle tunelessly, and the sound is annoying, but you don’t want to talk to him. At least he’s stopped asking you questions.

For about thirty seconds.

“What was in the box?” He asks. You open one eye to peer at him. He’s sitting cross-legged in front of you with his back slouched. He picks absently at his worn shoelaces on his crappy, frayed sneakers.

“Glasses. For a wedding I’m planning.” You say. He perks up at the mention of your business.

“Is this the couple who met at the Venetian Glass Blowing Factory?” He asks cheerfully. “I thought you didn’t have time to plan their wedding. How did you squeeze them in?”

You tense- you rang them up and offered your services since a lot of clients have cancelled on you this week following your subpar performance.

“I’ve had a few slots in my schedule clear up.” You admit through gritted teeth. Jungkook looks confused but then his eyes go round when he realises what you mean.

“Oh… that bad, huh?” He asks. He winces. “Not that I’m implying you’re bad! I just didn’t think people would cancel so quickly when-”

“When what, Jungkook?” You snap, patience lost. “When I’m essentially working two jobs? When I’ve been yelled at 32 times this week? When I’ve been getting approximately 4 hours sleep every night trying to organise all these events in between doing your job?”

“Well I didn’t ask to be on leave!” He retorts defensively. His eyebrows furrow together and his lips purse in a slight pout. “You’re the one who insisted I was unfit to work.”

“I know.” You snarl, and to your mortification, frustrated tears fill your eyes and blur your view of him. “I know I made you take leave! I know that everyone wants you back and this office is going insane without you!”

Jungkook’s jaw drops at your outburst but doesn’t interrupt as you continue your rant.

“I know your job is important and that it was going to be hard without you, but I was doing it for you! I wasn’t trying to fire you or spite you or punish you for being sick! I was only trying to help.” You’re full on sobbing now, but you’re so exhausted and emotional and the repressed emotions you’ve been pushing back for the past week are all bursting forth. “Is that so bad? Is it so terrible that I just wanted to look after my business partner? Why am I getting punished for doing the right thing?” You’re in full hysterics as Jungkook starts to panic, realising that he has no idea how to comfort you or calm you down.

“D-don’t cry!” He protests but it’s too late- it’s like a dam has been broken. All the stress, all the misery, all the overtime work has combined, and you feel like there’s an angry tornado of lava where your heart should be. “I know you were trying to help, and I’m really grateful for that- please don’t cry!”

He edges closer to you and doesn’t know what to do with his hands, so he settles for resting them awkwardly on your shoulders. You stare up at him with teary eyes. You’re not a pretty crier by any definition- your eyes have gone puffy and your nose is running and were it any other situation he would have laughed at you. But he has at least enough sensitivity to know laughing at you now would be kicking you when you’re down. Instead he offers you an awkward smile, one that is little more than his cheeks raising and him baring his teeth in an almost-snarl.

You’re so confused at his peculiar expression that you actually stop sobbing. You squint at him for a moment, before a tear-y laugh breaks through your lips.

“What are you doing?” You ask, taking the lapse in your hysterics as an opportunity to wipe away the tears running down your cheeks. His expression softens.

“I’m smiling at you.” He explains. You snort incredulously.

“You look like you’re in pain.” You say. He chuckles awkwardly.

“Hey! I’m trying to make you feel better!” He protests jokingly, relieved that you’re at least no longer crying. You frown.

“By showing me what face you make when you’re constipated?” You suggest and he actually laughs.

“I mean, since that’s what stopped you crying, I’ll take it.” He volunteers. He takes his hands off your shoulders and slumps next to you, being mindful of your injured leg. “Hey.”

You turn to look at him.

“Hi.” You answer. His expression is warm and gentle as he volunteers his next words.

“I never thanked you.” He admits. “For caring so much. Enough to keep it a secret.” He confesses. “And for putting me on leave. I know… I know you were trying to help, and it feels good to know that you’ve got my back like that. So, thank you. So much.”

At his words, an odd, warm sensation blooms in your chest. This whole week all you’ve felt is stressed and guilty, questioning your decision and worrying about Jungkook’s health. But Jungkook’s gratitude is liberating- you feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. He turns so that he’s staring straight into your eyes.

“And I know that you were only trying to help, and I’m really thankful for that but…” He trails away awkwardly and glances downwards. “But it wasn’t your call to make.” He admits. “I know you mean well, but it’s my decision on whether to get treatment, or whether to keep working, or whether or not to be involved with this wedding. You shouldn’t have taken that choice from me.”  

The truth of his words hits you like a bag of bricks and leaves you momentarily speechless. Because he has a point- even acting with his best interests in mind, he’s your co-worker. Not your friend or your family or your lover. He’s your equal business partner, capable of making adult decisions for himself. And by forcing him to go on leave, you took that choice away from him.

“As for the wedding… I won’t force you to do it or keep pestering you about it. I should have stopped when you first said no and respected that. That was wrong of me.” He says. “To be honest, I kept visiting you because I thought I could convince you. I didn’t even care how you were doing or whether you were coping- I just made all these excuses to see you so that I could convince you. And I realise now that’s a really awful way to be. You’re not just my boss or a machine that churns out people’s dream weddings. You’re a person who cares a lot about everyone she meets and I’m sorry for not recognising that.” He tells you. His cheeks are tinted slightly pink at his heartfelt confession, and your own cheeks burn too for some reason.

“The truth is… the truth is that Minah doesn’t want you to plan her wedding this much. Yeah, she liked that video of that wedding you did, but if I’d told her you said no, she would have just found someone else. It was me that was being insistent because I wanted someone on my side. You saw how I almost exposed myself at her engagement party… I felt like bringing another wedding planner into the mix is just one more person I have to hide from.” He slumps against the elevator wall and you take notice of the dark circles under his eyes, of his pale skin and his gaunt face… He’s lost even more weight since you made him take leave- earlier he was skinny but still looked healthy. Now he looks ashy and uncomfortable. At this rate he will wither away into nothing but skin and bones. Your heart aches for him again. “But when you found me… when you helped me and you didn’t tell anyone… I felt like I wasn’t alone for the first time in nearly a year. For the first time since Minah started dating Taehyung, probably. And I liked that feeling- I liked the idea of someone like you having my back. Someone who was strong and so determined that she literally built a business from the ground up, and you always call me your partner but really it was all you. And this whole thing with Minah has been so… hard. I thought… ‘maybe I could do it if she had my back.’” He squeezes his eyes shut and you notice the way a tear trickles down his cheek. His glasses nearly hide it but you’re watching him so carefully that you pick up on it.

“I’ll do it.” You don’t even realise you’ve said the words until he’s staring at you with wide, shocked eyes.

“What?” He asks. “Say that again?”

You blink, startled by your own compliance, but then you steel your gaze and make your decision.

“My brother’s a doctor who specialises in Hanahaki.” You say. “He said that if the doctors have already recommended hypnotherapy then conservative treatment probably can’t do much but it may slow the progression.” You explain. Jungkook is still staring at your with confused, round eyes. “If you promise to meet with him at least once a week for some conservative treatment and then you book in for proper treatment once the wedding is over… I’ll do it. I’ll plan her wedding.”

Jungkook’s whole face lights up and he grabs one of your hands, clasping it between your hands. His hands dwarf your own and you feel like he may break your bones with how tightly he is holding you.

“Really? You’d do that?” He asks, and the breathless excitement and relief in his voice almost makes it worth the stress that will no doubt come with agreeing.

“For you.” You clarify. “And only if you get treatment. If Namjoon tells me you’ve missed even one session, then I’m cancelling on her.” You warn. You look away awkwardly. “And I guess… if it means that much to you… you can come back to work. But you have to promise me that if you’re not feeling well you let me know, ok?”

“Deal!” Jungkook cries joyously, throwing his arms around you neck and pulling you in for a bone-crushing hug. “Thank you so much (Y/N)!  This really means so much to me. Thank you.”

And it is in that moment, with Jungkook squeezing you tightly to him like you’ll get up and sprint away if he lets go, that the elevator door starts up again like it was just waiting for the two of you to come to an agreement.

And if it’s suspicious that Jin and Seri are both anxiously waiting by the elevator doors on the fifth floor when they eventually slide open and release you, then neither you nor Jungkook notice it.

You’re both too distracted by the work you have ahead of you.

[kogo-dogo]

I looked at your favorite character top 5 thing and there's the one character you said was your ''problematic fave''. And I've heard of that game before because I saw somebody play it on Youtube once, I think the second one, and I was just curious about the character. Torque?? Because it seems like such a bad game and he didn't seem to have much personality but you seem very attacked so I was wondering if maybe it was worth looking into the series or something. I like old games.

I am so sorry that I said a week ago I’d answer this, Anon. I have so many thoughts about this probably-actually-one-dimensional character because I’ve had sixteen years to pick apart every scrap of info that exists about him. And overanalysis of fictional men is, at this point, my primary hobby.

First of all… eh. I won’t say to definitively not look into the series, but I would encourage you not look into the series. It’s one of those things that’s aged like an open bottle of two-buck chuck and I can tell you right now that it wouldn’t be as palatable in 2020 as it was in 2004. As much as I love Prison is Hell (the first game) and as much as I get what they were trying to do, they messed a lot of things up and it wouldn’t translate well to modern times. This is especially true for Ties That Bind. Oh my god, do NOT play Ties That Bind if you’re easily offended.

It’s fascinating to pick apart, though, even if it seems extremely basic on the surface level, and part of the reason I like Torque so much is because he’s a very interesting character to crack open and inspect. I know he probably Isn’t That Deep, but he’s interesting, figuring him out is a puzzle because of the way storytelling is carried out, and if he’d been handled better, would probably still be remembered beyond “quiet dude in a game Youtubers occasionally play on Halloween.” He’s really an unfortunate casualty of that era of gaming. It’s surprising he was handled with any dignity at all.

Spoilers are to follow, but it’s for the best. Now you don’t have to play the game.

First, a disclaimer: The Suffering games do work on a morality system, where you can get good or bad endings based on how you treat other people. The game is heavily designed to favor the good ending, and most people I’ve spoken to have agreed the good endings are likely canonical considering how much you’d miss while playing neutral/evil. So, we’re going with the “Good Aligned Torque is Canon” angle.

Okay. Now.

- Who is Torque? 

This guy.

Torque is, in essence, what happens when you take every tired trope of a horror movie villain and flip it around on its head. He’s a severely mentally ill inmate convicted of murder (while it’s never outright stated what mental illnesses he has, it’s pretty obviously a mixture of DID and schizophrenia), he never speaks (at least not in the present; he does have scant dialogue in flashbacks in the second game; it amounts to maybe eight words total), and he is… freakishly strong. Beyond that, there’s very heavy evidence that he’s somehow supernaturally inclined. 

The difference is that, instead of being presented as the villain, he’s the hero. He’s not just the hero, he’s basically one of the very few competent people in the games. Nobody treats him any different than they would anyone else, the game doesn’t go out of its way to underline that he’s some kind of “monster,” and even when the most monstrous of his alters presents itself (The Creature, who we’ll discuss later), people are just kind of like, “Oh, well that was different” and then move on with their lives.

He is a character who could very easily take the place of Jason Voorhees, and instead of being given a machete and told to kill everyone he comes across, he’s given a fire ax and a voice in his head that tells him to take care to think about how much other people are struggling and that maybe, being that he is probably stronger than them, he should put forth the effort to get them someplace safe. 

- Okay, but, like… WHO is he? Character-wise?

If you want his backstory, it’s actually one of the best parts about him and one of the few things that Ties That Bind expands upon correctly. To summarize, he’s a victim of the state that fell through the cracks, pieced his life back together, and then ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

To be more long-winded: He was a troubled child with psychiatric problems who lost both of his parents in a car accident. With no living relatives beyond his parents, he was placed into the Garvey Children’s Home, where the conditions were less than ideal. A mixture of strain, trauma, loneliness, and desperation prompted his brain to divide up into three: himself, Blackmore, and The Creature. Then, left to navigate life and his own mental health on his own, he ended up falling in with some very bad crowds.

He became a drug dealer. He got in a lot of altercations. He was in and out of prison. This only stopped when he met his wife and became a family man, and began to consciously put forth the effort to right himself. He had two sons, had everything under control… and then ended up in prison again when the guy he used to work for on the streets hired a man to come pay him a visit at his friend’s bar and press every last one of his buttons until he snapped. He wound up in prison, his wife divorced him, and everyone assumed he’d end up back to his old tricks.

Except… he didn’t go back to being a drug dealer. He got a job at a gym instead. He stayed on the right track. He started reconciling with his ex-wife who, right before the events of the first game, moved back in with him. 

This didn’t sit well with the men Torque used to run with, especially not the guy he used to work for… so a hit was ordered on him and his family. He wasn’t home when it was carried out. He walked in, found his wife and kids dead, and passed out in his apartment from the shock, where the police found him after receiving a tip.

He was bloody. He was disoriented. He was known to be a repeat offender. They pinned the whole thing on him and, after a very unfair trial, he was sentenced to death.

The first day he arrives in prison--located on scenic Carnate Island--the ground opens up and monsters begin sweeping over the land. Convenient.

- Wait, this bitch has alters?

Yeah. This… isn’t really a part of the game that’s handled well, but it’s interesting. There’s a lot of weirdness going on with Torque (remember that supernatural bend I mentioned?), and one of the two is… well, I’m not sure he’s an alter at all.

First, there’s Torque himself who is just a short-tempered, easily frustrated, but generally reasonable guy who really just wanted to keep his head above water. Secondly, there’s The Creature, a defense mechanism and literal monster that is incapable of communication and rears its head whenever he feels threatened. Physically threatened, generally, which resulted in The Creature being a bit violent. Torque has a pretty extensive arrest record and most of his arrests seem to revolve around “punched a guy at an inopportune time.”

Blackmore is more complicated, because he isn’t really clear. You see, there’s a snippet of dialogue in the second game and a lot of environmental storytelling that indicates that Torque is supernaturally gifted somehow (something he likely inherited from his mother), and that some of his mental illnesses are actually paranormal interference. Blackmore is the biggest gray area, because while he is presented as an alter, he… very much defies that. 

He’s presented as a presence that Torque experiences externally and that only he can see (not really uncommon; Torque hallucinates pretty frequently throughout the game), but he also seems to be aware and consciously trying to control Torque. When that fails, he settles for trying to find a way to take over Torque’s body permanently. He’s capable of actually getting in physical altercations with Torque, but at the same time can hijack his body to do things he wouldn’t normally be able to do. He honestly smacks more of something Torque is possessed by instead of something his brain came up with itself, made all the more obvious by the fact that the final battle in the second game is literally Torque and Blackmore beating the everloving hell out of each other after Torque consciously realizes that nobody can perceive Blackmore but him.

But at the same time, that guy that Torque worked for that ordered the hit on his family? That’s Blackmore. There’s a lot of talk about how nobody has ever seen Blackmore (indicating he only communicated via writing or phone or what have you), and it’s all… very, very stupid. It’s one of those things in TTB that made me throw up my hands and go, “Well, sure. Okay. Let’s just do that, then. That makes perfect sense thanks.”

(I do not like most of Ties That Bind.)

- Okay, so he’s supernatural somehow?

Mm-hm. Again, it’s never explicitly stated, but heavily implied through some dialogue from my second favorite character in the game (DR. Q.L. KILLJOY, MOTHERFUCKER) and just the way the story plays out. 

Carnate Island erupts with a bad case of monsters the second Torque sets foot on the island. A prologue you unlock after you beat the game once reveals that Torque actually hallucinated the first game’s end boss before he even saw it, indicating he has some precognitive abilities. The sentient spirits of both games know who Torque is and take a special interest in him, and plenty make allusions that they’re “more alike” than he thinks. Blackmore is very clearly paranormal in origin and seems to even be able to command the monsters in some way. 

Hell, Dr. Killjoy even implies at the end of the first game that Torque is somehow making all of this happen and, only by tackling the root of his problems, can he make everything stop.

While there’s never been an active fandom for this game, I used to associate with a small group of fans, and there was actually a lot of discussion/disagreements about whether Torque actually had any form of psychosis or if maybe he had latent psychic abilities he couldn’t control. Seeing things all the time, causing things to accidentally happen that nobody would believe; it’d be easy to be chalked up with a disorder when there’s no way to know or prove what you’re experiencing is Real Shit.

- Why do you hate Ties That Bind so much?

Because of the way it improperly handles a bunch of mental health stuff that the first game wisely didn’t actually touch on much beyond acknowledging the fact that This Guy Are Sick.

Prison is Hell makes it very evident that Torque has psychiatric problems but never dwells on it overmuch. There’s even an entire chapter of the game that takes place in an old asylum with an early 1900s alienist ghost (DR. KILLJOY) trying to diagnose and “treat” Torque, and it still is mostly hinged on the horrors of old-timey treatment of mentally ill patients than anything about Torque. That and Dr. Killjoy’s misguided good intent (that dude deserves a whole essay of his own, to be honest).

Instead of hammering it home that he has Issues and deciding to talk too much about Issues, it just treats Torque like a human being. Your main goal is getting off the island and saving stragglers along the way, all of which react to Torque just the same way they would to anyone. COs will either be authoritative or condescending. Fellow inmates will be suspicious but more likely to work with him. Everyone is always gracious for his help, and nobody makes any odd remarks about anything weird he does (barring when The Creature shows up; then, they just remark on, “DUDE HOW IN THE FUCK?” because you find out, later on, that all they see is Torque getting in fist fights with things twice his size and winning).

Torque is just Torque. He just do what Torque do.

Ties That Bind then goes barreling into a bunch of tired tropes and tries to make a convoluted twist ending, and then there’s the whole matter of the secret underground organization that wants to capture Torque and have been working with Blackmore and you end up fighting a helicopter and some SWAT-looking motherfuckers and… they try so much harder to be edgy and gritty and it’s really fucking stupid.

The only good things you get out of it are some further snippets into Torque’s backstory (appreciated), the return of Dr. Q.L. Killjoy (always welcome), and a set of monsters known as Gorgers (they make purr-gle sounds when they eat and I love them).

Oh, and Consuela. She is mentioned in the first game and actually shows up in the second, and I can respect any woman who gets captured by an evil paramilitary organization and, immediately upon being rescued, takes the biggest gun she can find, looks you dead in the eye, and says, “I’m going to steal a fucking boat, drive it straight into a warzone, and rescue my goddamn husband. You with me or not?”

She is literally some female parallel to Torque and my headcanon is they are bros.

- Anything else?

Yeah. The soundtrack for the game is pretty awesome and ended up inspiring some other music in a couple of other video games of the time (Mortal Kombat: Armageddon immediately comes to mind). They actually rigged up some pretty cool contraptions to make unique sounds and ambience using shit like scrap metal and garbage, and the results are pretty fucking cool.

Favorites of mine are the boss themes for Hermes, and Dr. Killjoy, with Dr. Killjoy’s being my absolute favorite of all of them. The main theme of the game is pretty great, too, and is probably the most iconic of all of the songs on the OST. I’ve even heard it used in stuff where I doubt people knew what the hell The Suffering was, lol.

[delaneyr-p]

Tinums’ Last Day

The orange sun sat lazily in the sky and the autumn trees trembled from the chilly breeze. This is my peace. “Tinum!” My mother called out to me, but something was off. Jumping down from my branch I sprint towards the little hole in the hill where we hide from sight. Slowing myself I sneak up to the crack in our door. “You should’ve known we’d find you.”

   The booming voice seemed to smack my face upon easing it to the gap. Hesitantly peering into the small dugout revealed three men, of which I could tell two were Hunsmer like me. This man was tall with black scales and a thick head of feathers, he wrestled with my mother before pinning her to the ground. He had a tattoo running from his temple to somewhere under his shirt and the scales around it looked scarred as if someone had pulled them out. He looked remorseful but remained to hold my mother to the ground with bruising force.

   “Go look for the boy Arlu.” The angry voice spat at another Hunsmer. The one barking orders had to be Altismer. He had those nasty long earlobes, and his skin was the trademarked Altismer grey-ish yellow. He was obviously the head honcho.

   The door slams open and I fall on my face, startling everyone. My mother wastes no time though, biting down on the hand of her attacker causing him to shriek. His hands flew to catch himself as my mother threw him off “Run Tinum!” She screeched as she lunged for the Altismer man, who had jumped towards me. Scrambling to my feet, and narrowly avoiding the grabbing hands of the second Hunsmer, I turned tail and ran. Frigid air whipped me as I sprinted towards the Illantu. My only hope of escape would be to jump into its craggy entrance and hope I don’t get torn apart. No, I have to make it.

   “Get back here you fucking mutt!” Wincing at the closeness of the voice, my clawed foot caught a tree root and I slipped headfirst down the sand into the Illantu. My skin screams as swords of rock tear scales from my body and the water pounding against the inner walls of the Illantu smacks me around with malice. “Damn it all!” Was the last thing I heard before my thoughts were consumed by not drowning in the massive river. The river tumbles me as I struggle to figure out which way is up and which is down. My mind reaches out to memories of what my mother told me to do if this happened, something I never thought I’d have to do. With the last little bit of my strength, I manage to force myself upright and grab some air, the river starts to slow as it turns one last time into a lake.

   Paddling my way to the..Shore? I’m not sure what it would be called underground. I struggle to pull my battered body from the lake and I spot a pair of tall yellow eyes? Watching me from the shadows, my body freezes.There are monsters mother told me had lived down here, but are they real? As an odd, floaty tightness starts to rise, my stomach falls into itself. I’m panicking, wounded, and exhausted. Before my mind gets any further, a dozen little Jugri flitter around the corner.

   They seemed to dance to me and continued their dance around me, sparkly little pieces of dust stuck to my wounds as they fell. I’d forgotten how badly they hurt, suddenly little prickles of numbness shot through me. It seemed to be coming from the Jurgis’ dust, but it got stronger. I tried to wave them away, but they just giggled and continued their dance. “Stop it, I don’t want to play.” As I was distracted trying to swat away the noisy little things I missed seeing the person coming my way.

   “Gotcha you little shit!” My shriek is cut short as my attacker forces me to the ground, digging his knee into my back with malice. “You should’ve just stayed, maybe we would’ve let the girl live too.” Smirking he flipped me over after placing heavy metal cuffs on my wrists, the Jurgi’s giggled and floated away from me. They settled onto his shoulders and stuck their tongues out at me “What do you-?” The man smirked as he busied himself with some kind of bottle “I killed her.” My heart stopped and raced at the same time, the world started to spin and give way to black. My mother was dead and it was my fault.  “She bit my slave and caused other damages, if you had just come quietly that wouldn't've happened.” The man kept speaking after that but my mind was nowhere near reality. I couldn't feel my body anymore, though the striking numbness from before became sharper. I squeezed my eyes, little rivers began to form on my face. They wash away dirt and sand from the tumble, blood from the sharp rocks, but not the guilt I felt. And they never would.

Hey everybody! I really hope you enjoyed this little snippet from Tinums' backstory. There will of course be more in the future and I look forward to seeing what you guys think! Please leave a comment, subscribe to the blog, and like the story if you enjoyed it. It would mean a whole lot to me! Thank you!

P.s. I am already working on the next story. It will be based around Himne, She is an Altismer thief who is fighting to live in the Capitol.

[beerecordings]

How do we recognize ableist content like that? I've never been in situations like that, so something that look pretty harmless to me could be in fact quite shitty. I don't want to share stuff like that and be unaware of it, how do I learn?

well thank you for asking!!! but the first thing I’d like to do is make it clear that while I do trust myself to recognize many common ableist errors/choices, I do not pretend to be an authority on this issue any more than anyone else who’s done some research, talked with other people, and worked to recognize things. I need help sometimes too! Also I’d like to reiterate that I am able-bodied and people with disabilities are free to correct me.

The second thing to notice is that SOMETIMES these things are context-dependent. For instance, while I usually gag to see Jameson made into like the son of somebody the same age as him, if you’re actually writing an au where Jameson and maybe another character or two are actually children to another character, that can be pretty cute!!! In that case an adult is not being infantilized and he is not made into a child because of his disability - he’s being made into a child because he’s a literal four-year-old and that’s the premise of the story (and he still can’t talk). Alternatively, maybe Jameson needs extra attention and love and protection from older brothers after a traumatic event - but at some point, that Jameson should begin to regain his independence, should still experience a wide range of emotions, and should not be condescended to about his emotions or ability to function alone. However, please be careful with this… don’t use context to make excuses if you’re actually pulling ableist shit.

I think that list I gave in the post I made is a good (but not comprehensive!) starting point for some of the things to look for that are offensive to people with disabilities (some of these are specific to mutism). Let’s take another deeper look at these points:

Before reblogging something with Jameson in it, for instance, ask yourself - does this infantilize the character?

Is Jameson unable to function alone in society beyond the reasonable limitations we would expect of a person with a disability? Is Jameson babied to a ridiculous degree by the other egos? Does Jameson only experience basic emotions? Does Jameson ever stand up for himself or display “unpleasant” and unromanticized emotions such as anger, desire to isolate, desire for violence, ugly grief and sorrow, etc? Disabled adults are still ADULTS. Don’t treat them like little kids!!! If you want to portray Jameson’s trauma reactions - and you should!! he’s been through a lot!! - make sure this is more complex than just reducing him to a sweet needy baby who needs a hand to hold twenty-four seven. He should have ugly reactions too and be more complex than sad sometimes because he’s disabled and needs more attention. Otherwise you are infantilizing his mutism and romanticizing his trauma.

Does this erase Jameson’s disability completely or partially?

I have had people tell me it’s okay to erase Jameson’s disability because “they just wanted him to have a cute British accent.” I have had people to tell me to “chill out” because it “isn’t a big deal” that people erase his disability. I’ve heard people say “I couldn’t really get into Jameson for some reason, he just wasn’t my favorite character - so I decided to make him my own and give him new powers and let him talk and now I like him a lot!”

FUCK OFF M8

DON’T WRITE HIM IF YOU AREN’T WILLING TO INCORPORATE HIS DISABILITY AND YOU HATE DISABLED CHARACTERS. WHY ARE SOME OF U LIKE THIS. HOW DARE YOU qUITE FRANKLY

DO NOT SUPPORT CONTENT WITH A SPEAKING JAMESON UNLESS ANTI IS ABOUT TO SHOW UP AND CUT THAT BOY’S THROAT OR MAYBE IT’S AN AU WHERE SOMEBODY ELSE HAS THE DISABILITY BUT I’M NOT A HUNDRED PERCENT SURE ABOUT THAT ONE -

When you erase Jameson’s disability, you are telling every disabled person who might come across your writing that there is something wrong with being disabled and that they need to be fixed, as well as warping your own perception of the disabled people you will meet in your life. Do not use magic spells to erase Jameson’s inability to vocalize. Do not just decide you prefer a vocalizing Jamie.

Is this a respectful and accurate representation of a character who cannot vocalize?

If you are not disabled, you probably should not write pieces deeply exploring his relationship with his disability, because you just can’t do it right. I’m tired of seeing people write like ten thousand words of whump about how sad Jamie is about being disabled and how he longs desperately to just be normal like everyone else!! If only he didn’t have to sign!!! And he never seems to make any progress at accepting himself, he never seems to have any righteous anger at the people who treat him like shit, he always seems to let himself be comforted by other people telling him how to perceive himself instead of coming to terms with it with the help of both others and his own internal development. Incorporate his disability, and yes, it’s okay if it upsets him that other people react poorly to his inability to vocalize sometimes, but avoid stories which focus on him dealing with his disability exclusively if you are not disabled. If his disability is the only thing that ever makes him sad or makes him experience a negative emotion, you have fucked up again and you are using his disability for whump points like an asshole instead of seeing him holistically. I get upset sometimes because I see people will get prompts about JJ and it will be like… “job interview!” so they write one where Jameson gets turned down for a job because of a disability or it will be like “mourn!” and it’s about how he mourns his lost voice and “spell!” is about Marvin trying to fix him and just….. I guess it’s okay to write that stuff every now and then, but it’s a BIG RED FLAG if someone takes every single prompt or thought about JJ and makes it about him being sad about his disability.

Is this a respectful and accurate representation of sign language?

Please be aware that Jameson speaks BSL, not ASL! I think most people mess that one up just because they don’t know, not because they’re ableist, so it’s great to spread awareness! If you are writing something about Jamie, though, you really should know. You should also try to learn a little about the way people sign and just do some research! Also, when writing Jameson, be aware of the signing. If he is in another room than Jackie, then remember that Jackie can’t “hear” him. You just forgot he couldn’t talk! Double-check your work or ask someone to beta and this one is avoided easily. Be open to someone pointing out “actually, Jameson couldn’t do that, he was downstairs!” and work to accommodate him.

If I were unable to vocalize, would I be offended by this representation?

Many of us have disabilities of our own. Think about the things that bother you and how they apply to mutism or even other disabilities like Chase’s depression. One thing that always helps me (though I am not in a wheelchair!) is comparing this to people in wheelchairs. Would it be okay for me to write a fic where a person had their legs magically fixed after a lifetime of not being able to walk and then everybody liked them better and they finally found purpose? Would it be okay for me to write ten snippets in a row about how sad they are they can’t walk? Would it be okay for me to just decide they can walk now because I’m annoyed when I have to write in their wheelchair? Is it okay for me to say that they can’t wheel themselves around or that they use magic to move at all times and would not be able to move at all if someone were not pushing them or they lost their magic? Is it okay for everyone to treat the person like a helpless baby because they can’t walk? Honestly, I think we know more than we think if we take a moment to critically examine. Trust your gut.

Does this contain common problems in portrayal of characters with disabilities/mutism such as derision or lamentation towards sign language, making the character defined entirely by their disability (always a cheerful character except when reminded of their disability, for example), having other characters explain things about their disability to them, or treating the character as childish, needy, and unable to function in society because of their disability?

Pretty self-explanatory, but well worth repeating.

Do not show derision towards sign language (though a villain might, if it was clear that they are the villain and doing something wrong!). We have already discussed the complexities of lamentation and I suggest that you avoid that as well, especially if you are going to make his character flat. If you are not disabled, you really can’t portray it well, and it’s ableist to focus so much on the disability that you do not give the character any other complexity. Do not make the disability the “tragic backstory” of the character’s life. Complexity is important because it means you are seeing the person as more than their disability! You should know things about the character other than “they are happy and sweet and sugary and never get angry or make mistakes!! except sometimes… they are sad because they can’t talk uwuw poor baby” you look that shit in the eyes and you tell it to fuck off, you hear me? It’s great to have a sweet, nice, sugary baby brother Jameson as long as he is more complex than that, with real independence and abilities of his own and complex emotions and character! His disability should not be his one weak spot or his tragic backstory or some shit!

ALSO DO NOT DO NOT DO NOT REFER TO JAMESON AS “THE MUTE.”

like dude even “the mute man” is pretty fucking shifty because why do you feel the need to define him by that??? but definitely not “the mute moved down the hallway” i will block you on sight and you will deserve it that is SO offensive would you call a person who can’t walk “the cripple???”

Don’t have a speaking character explain things about disabilities to characters with disabilities. Speaking characters should not be condescending towards the character about much of anything, really, or else you’re infantilizing - if you need someone to explain things, obviously that’s okay, but do it in a way that recognizes that this is a mature and independent adult.

The character with a disability should be able to function in society past the limitations that are to be expected. No, Jameson isn’t going to magically start talking, but if he wants to go on a walk alone, he can. Let him do things like writing or texting. Don’t be afraid to give him a cool job and awesome hobbies. Let him have independence. If you can’t imagine JJ living on his own because he can’t speak, you’re doing it wrong. Look for signs that Jameson is capable of things other than making tea and kissing his brothers good night.

It’s okay to have a Jameson with a slightly childish personality, and I love it when he’s a sweet boy! But there should be more to him than that. I’m just going to say it - you know when Jameson is being treated like a baby. You know the difference between infantilization and a nice friendly man with sweet cute hobbies and interests. You can see it. Trust yourself. Don’t buy it when you see it and if you’re writing him, make sure there is complexity instead of just sugar-sweet with a sugar-sweet filling. He’s an adult. Remember that and remember that it’s harmful to pretend otherwise.

Geez, that was a rant and a half. Again, I am not the perfect authority. But there are some tips.

Does that help at all?

Feel free to add on to that if you have seen specific things in the fandom that I might not have seen or you have a disability and have experience with being discriminated against.

[echo-bleu]

I love your writing! So i was wondering what kind of process you use from idea to posting. Im super interested because some wing it..while others have outlines and very methodical ways to bring their work to life.

Thank you!!!

My process feels a little different for every fic, but I’ll try to walk you through it. I’ll take our hands clasped so tight as the example, because it’s perhaps the most representative (my other long WIPs are both fusions, so it was a little different). Under a cut because it got long.

I’m not a huge plotter. I wouldn’t say I’m a pantser exactly, because I tend to write non-linearly so I can’t quite just let the story go unchecked, but @eveningspirit tried to make me get into complicated planning methods and it failed spectacularly (sorry, love, I’m joking). I’m a perfectionist, but I’m really not methodical, even though I feel the appeal of it, it just doesn’t work when I try to do detailed outlines.

[violence and child abuse] The first idea I had for Hands was Jesse Manes really injuring Alex that day in the shed. It’s been on my mind ever since I first watched 1x06, but I didn’t have any solid ideas. It cropped up in setting fire to our insides (for fun) and at least a couple of my Whumptober fics, where Alex recounts Jesse beating him up and breaking bones. When I had the idea of taking his canonically choking Alex further, I realized that it was very similar to @aewriting‘s fic I Know Nothing Stays the Same. I don’t know how much of that was inspiration and how much was just parallel thinking (great minds, right?). As it may be apparent in my fics, I write disabled characters. A lot. And I write whump. So having Alex be disabled from what his father did wasn’t much of a reach from there. To give you a timeline, that was around when season 2 started, so mid-March-ish.

The second part of that idea, that tied up with it: one thing I wanted to write, and still do, is a fic where Alex and Michael have both stopped playing music completely since that day, and later use music to heal and get together. So, coupling the two ideas together: Alex loses his voice and Michael the use of his hand means they both lose their music. This thing they loved.

It evolved quite a bit from there, of course. Alex can’t sing anymore, but he also hasn’t stopped making music. I spent a while researching choking injuries (my search history is wild) and the possible consequences, how it could evolve over ten years, etc. From there, I wanted Michael to be completely unaware of it. Since Alex was in the hospital/in treatment for a long time and thus couldn’t leave Roswell, Michael had to leave. I gave him the life I think he could have had if Rosa hadn’t died, and thus didn’t kill Rosa. Michael being autistic is a headcanon/idea (it’s not a headcanon per say because I don’t think he is in canon, but there were possible indications) that I’ve had for a while too, so this was my chance to fit it in, as I love writing autistic characters.

When I get to this point, my process is to write down everything I can think of (on any scale: general plot points, backstories, details, pieces of dialogue) in no order whatsoever in a new file. Then I slide into @eveningspirit‘s DMs and talk her head off. I think she liked this particular idea :) She asked some pertinent questions, which got me to think about things like what happened to Jesse, whether Noah was there and good or bad, and so on. Putting these together, I (we, really) came up with more backstory ideas that I won’t go into because they’re spoilers ;)

I came up with the music therapy idea, and Rosa as the therapist, and off I went to write the first chapter. It came together pretty fast, and honestly easily. I talked to some other friends on Discord who helped me come up with a song for the first chapter. The second chapter was a little harder, but most of it was backstory, and I had it down. @eveningspirit (again ;D) looked through the first chapter and said she liked it, so I went ahead and posted it (in early April). Then things slowed down to a halt. I wasn’t in a great mental state and couldn’t write much, though I never stopped thinking, and 2x06 rolled around which threw me off for a while. The other thing is, I still didn’t have any real sense of a plot. I’m really good at coming up with backstories and not at all with plot, lol. I posted the second chapter at some point without really making progress on the third. The third chapter has a therapy scene that was hard to write (I want to thank @usbournejez and @brightloveee for checking it for me). But I kept thinking about it all, often in the morning while I shower and have breakfast. Usually I come up with plot points or lines of dialogue and often I’ve forgotten them by the time I can get behind my computer. But I write them down when I can. That’s how my writing becomes non-linear, since one of the first things I wrote will end up in, like, chapter 15. It’s just snippet, but they give me a sense of where I’m going.

When I get stuck, I just repeat the same steps. Go to @eveningspirit. Figure plot out. Write. Get stuck. Go to es again. Check with my friends whether you can see if someone is only on FaceTime. Research chronic lung infections some more. Write more. Try to write an entire Skype call without revealing who is on the other end. (Literally what I did last night and tonight). Something like Alex talking with Kate Long in chapter 4 just popped out of my screen and was completely unplanned. Other things are planned that won’t happen for a while. But I don’t have any real sense of, say, how many chapters there will be to this story. I know more or less where it ends. I know of two major events to come. I have pages of backstory and worldbuilding. I have maybe a quarter of chapter 5 written.

Planning for a story like setting fire to our insides (for fun) was very different, because I knew from the start that it was going to be non-linear. So I just started by randomly writing scenes I thought about. I did this for months before I really figured out how to frame it with Isobel going into Alex’s mind. This story had no plan whatsoever, and when I started posting, all I had were half a dozen random scenes and an ending. I have about the same for the sequel, so far :)

I hope this kind of answered your question! It’s ridiculously long, I guess I’m just in an oversharing mood tonight.