#all I can think of is things ending real quick if someone could access hell corospondense in wonderland
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Who would win;
Near god like world / universe destroying being, or 1 girl with the power to send anyone to hell if asked
#Hell Girl v Chaos go#like would he be beyond her limits or if the grudge is strong enough could she do it and kill him#hell girl#ffu#(I'm not looking for any serious response alright this is just a silly thought cause I'm watching hell girl again but like I mean)#all I can think of is things ending real quick if someone could access hell corospondense in wonderland#(hell isn't like it's own thing a world that can't be touched by chaos arguably anyway soooo)
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A bit late as always but I was tagged by the incredible @patolemus and the wonderful @gege-wondering-around to do a WIP-Whenever!
If you happen to be reading this, do yourself a favour and go and check out their WIPs! I am still reeling!
Disclaimer: This is still the Strange Small Town au but it's something i've written recently and its wildly unedited at the moment - and I'm dyslexic so please, please, please tell me if I have a dumb typo. I will not be embarassed - nothing can embarass me anymore, not after repeatedly mixing up tests and testes for my (bound and submitted) disseration!
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A book tucked high up on the shelf catches his eye – B. H. Lore
He doesn't know why this one in particular grabs his attention but he finds himself slipping it off the shelf before he can think twice.
What surprises him more than anything else, though, is how the book is entirely handwritten. He frowns, quick fingers leafing though, scanning page after page of elegant script and unbelievably detailed drawings of... monsters?
Honest to god, straight out of an arcane legend, monsters.
Stiles arches an eyebrow, hardly daring to believe that the first book he selected is an actual, real life, bestiary.
It looks genuine too, Stiles can see where the pen has dug into the paper, tiny blots of ink scattered from the ends of words. He can feel the indents, see the imperfections in the ink, the discolouration of time. The cover seems like leather, embossed with faded gold lettering. In short, this book is old as balls. And if it's not autentic well, it's one hell of an art project.
Stiles hmms to himself, teeth pursing his lips together as he turns this anomaly over in his mind.
This book looks like it's straight out of someone's private collection, so what is it doing on a publicly accessible library shelf?
His fingertips tingle, a shock of anticipation thrilling through him. He feels as if he might actually be getting somewhere now. Somehow he knows this book has the answers to his questions. Well, maybe not the ones about human combustion, but definitely the ones about red-eyed monsters lurking in the woods.
His hands still of their own accord, the book falling open to an ink sketch of a large, ancient tree and a chill shivers down his spine. He's never seen anything like it. The sheer detail is... breathtaking.
The drawing spans the entire width of the book, intricate roots twining down to fall off the edges and long branches stretching out like fingers. All along the limbs of the tree, there is writing, minute, cursive and arcane. He leans forward bringing the book closer, nose almost touching the page as he squints to make out what it says.
Sing over bones...
“Interesting choice."
Stiles jumps, startling to attention and nearly drops the book. He fumbles it, bouncing the book physically between his palms, his face screwed with the agony of trying to protect the delicate, leather bound tome from complete destruction.
The book falls open as his palm gets a grip on the back cover and Stiles watches with the kind of slow motion that only horror can bring as an entire ream of paper slips from the front and scatters like glass across the floor.
The world freezes as Stiles stares at the destruction around him before he slowly, ever so slowly, turns his head to look at the woman who's eyes are now blazing with a fury that could set fire to his entire soul.
“In my defence,” he starts before the red-headed Valkyrie can even open her mouth. “You startled me.”
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For next week, or whenever, always no pressure whatsoever tags are: @patolemus @gege-wondering-around @hellameyers and whoever else wants to share! As always thank you for reading and I hope nice things come your way!
#wip whenever#eventual sterek#teen wolf#teenwolf fanfic#wip#stiles stilinski#nice things for nice people#Just hit 20K!!! I'm happy because this is the longest thing i've written in years (non-academic category)#dumb stuff#thank you for the tags beautiful people! Cariad mawr!
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Book of Life in Good Omens
This was initially supposed to be part of my "Metatron's manipulation" series (link goes to Part 1 of currently 7), specifically the "alternative offers" post I'm currently working on (which will be Part 8). But I've decided it would work better as a separate thing. Allow me to run more freely in any direction my nasty little heart desires. So here you are.
It's hard not to speculate about the Book of Life, considering how many times it was mentioned this season, how big it is, and how nothing seems to come out of it yet. It's also hard to speculate about it, considering how little we know about it. But let's try.
Facts we have from the show
Right after Gabriel appears at Aziraphale's bookshop, Michael calls Beelzebub to inform them that if anyone is found helping Gabriel, Heaven is prepared to use Extreme Sanctions, aka. Book of Life.
When Beelzebub summons Crowley to Hell, they tell him that they heard anybody Heaven finds involved with Gabriel will be dealt with, meaning Extreme Sanctions.
Crowley doesn't initially believe it's a real thing, he insists it's just something they used to joke about to frighten the cherubs.
Beelzebub finally explains what it is: erasing from the Book of Life which equals erasing from existence - "they won't just be gone, they will never have existed".
After Gabriel and Beelzebub are gone, Michael threatens Aziraphale directly, insisting she is authorized to remove the name of anyone who helped Gabriel from the Book of Life.
Metatron shuts her down by saying she doesn't have the authority to do it.
They're... not very helpful. More gossip and hearsay than facts.
A quick look at Christian tradition
It has such a concept as a Book of Life, however, the titular Life is not literal but rather a commonly used metaphor for salvation. It also has a counterpart, the Book of Death. Having your name in the Book of Life simply means being destined for Heaven; having your name moved to the Book of Death equals being condemned to Hell. I've never once come across either of them mentioned in any other context than that of judging human beings (though admittedly, I haven't read that much on them).
So, not very helpful either, and it looks like Neil took only a name and made his own rules.
Possibly. Because we don't know any rules yet. We have no idea who can access and use it and when. We think we know that if you remove someone's name from the Book of Life you erase them completely from existence, but it might not even be true.
Honestly, I wouldn't be all that surprised if The Book of Life turned out to actually be a celestial boogeyman Crowley initially believed it to be. It wouldn't also be inconsistent with the original Good Omens spirit, where supposedly great things turned out to be insignificant and/or easily solved in the end.
But just for the fun of it, let's pull at what we have in Christian tradition and what we know from the show.
Combining the two
Extending the use of both the Book of Life and the Book of Death to supernatural entities is not much of a stretch. However, if this was the case, removing Aziraphale's name from the Book of Life would mean his Fall, not erasure from existence. In fact, this would be exactly how the Fall would happen - you remove an angel's name from the book of beings meant to be in Heaven and move it to the book of beings meant to be in Hell, and you get a demon.
It also explains how it could be done the other way - a demon's name could be removed from the Book of the Death, reentered into the Book of Life, and bam! fully angelic status restored. After all, we were made aware this season that Fall could be reversible.
Honestly, it would make a lot of sense to me.
In the Resurrectionists minisode Aziraphale tells Crowley: "I am good. You, I'm afraid, are evil. But people get a choice." If you were a little taken aback that Aziraphale says things like that at that point and found it somewhat jarring, that's because it kind of is. The line is taken directly from the original book, where it was explicitly stated that Aziraphale and Crowley only started developing free will on Earth, due to extended exposure to humans. It was part of their "going native" and what made them different. But in the show, it's quite clearly not the case.
When it comes to morality, angels and demons in the show are a lot like people. They're neither static nor quoy, at least not inherently so. They're fully capable of growth and change and making their own decisions, both good and bad. So IF we agree, that being assigned to either Heaven or Hell is a reflection of someone's moral status, and someone's moral status can change with their choices and actions, it's logical that there is a mechanism that technically allows them to be reassigned as many times as necessary.
It also makes sense that Heaven would block that mechanism after the Rebellion and the Fall, and insists that whatever side anyone is on, that's final. All that's left is to fight each other.
Is it show-canon compliant?
There's one major issue with that theory - nobody in the show seems to perceive the Book of Life this way. It's synonymous with literal life ie. existence. It's not tied to Fall in any way. There's no mention of the Book of Death.
How do I defend against it?
It's not that hard, really.
As I've pointed out already, nobody seems to really know what they are talking about. The Book of Life? It rings a bell, there was such a thing, although maybe it wasn't, maybe it was a joke... Nobody is a reliable source of information and I'm pretty sure that whatever we will learn about the Book of Life in season 3 will prove information from season 2 to be incomplete and misleading.
Of course that doesn't exactly support my theory, it's just not an obstacle it seems to be at first glance.
And just in case it wasn't clear, I'm not really trying to predict where the story will go, but rather speculate for the fun of it.
So, I merrily speculate several reasons why there are two books whose purpose is to decide who belongs in Heaven and who belongs in Hell, but everybody in season 2 believes there's one book whose purpose is to decide who exists.
Reason #1: The truth about two books was hidden by some higher-up in Heaven, possibly Metatron, to hide the inconvenient fact that all there is to being an angel or a demon is to be entered into an appropriate list. That can be edited. Unlimited amount of times.
Reason #2: The misinformation was created and spread by the Metatron specifically for this situation. He expected that whoever might meddle with the whole Gabriel affair would either be a demon, who you cannot exactly threaten with falling, or Aziraphale, who might not care enough for that to be effective.
Reason #3: Everyone's knowledge comes from before the Fall. So it's partly forgotten and partly censored, but above all, before the Fall, when everybody's names were in the Book of Life, they might simply have misunderstood the meaning of having your name removed from it, as it's never happened before.
Reason #4: Erasing someone's existence completely is in fact possible if you remove someone's name from one book and never enter it into the other.
(Please note that this generates a lot of questions on how exactly you move names between the two books if being in neither means you don't exist and never have. There would have to be some security measures to make sure people won't just disappear during transfer.)
Reason #5: Being erased from existence is a metaphor for the fundamental transformation you undergo when shifting from an angel to a demon (and possibly vice versa). Especially if you consider that a supernatural entity wouldn't probably just have their name moved, they'd most likely be entered under a new name. So they would be the same being but not the same person anymore.
Pick any combination of the above.
Who should fear the Book of Life?
The book is first mentioned when Michael tips Beelzebub that Heaven is prepared to use it against anyone found helping Gabriel. Beelzebub later conveys the message to Crowley, plus an extended explanation.
The key word here is anybody. If Gabriel was helped by both Aziraphale and Crowley, they were both risking punishment.
But Crowley acts as if only Aziraphale is in danger and indeed, when Michael brings it up again, in the finale, she only threatens Aziraphale and completely ignores Crowley.
Why?
Crowley can be easily explained by his continuous disregard for his own safety. But Michael? Why did she call Hell to warn Beelzebub how serious Heaven was about it if she wasn't ready to actually go through and punish a demon? Does she not realize how deeply Crowley was involved? Does she think Aziraphale did it on his own? Is she reluctant to actually administer the punishment that feels outside her jurisdiction? Or is she simply more focused on Aziraphale because he pissed her off?
If we assume my theory about the Books of Life & Death is correct, then Michael's threat was an empty one for a demon, whose name was no longer in the Book of Life anyway. But if we assume my theory is right, then none of them should be aware of that.
However.
If we assume my theory is true minus Reason #4 (the loophole that actually allows for someone to be permanently destroyed from existence), let's think about the theory that Metatron blackmailed Aziraphale into taking his offer by indirectly threatening Crowley's existence.
Aziraphale is unaware of how it all works. He picks on Metatron's threat and interprets it in accordance with how he believes the Book of Life works. He comes to the conclusion that if he doesn't obey, Crowley will be removed from existence. But Metatron actually means the metaphorical erasure I described as Reason #5. He means the destruction of Crowley's personality and most of his self. The trauma that would happen if Crowley underwent the transformation that is the result of being moved from one book to the other. At the same time, Metatron says that if Aziraphale becomes the Supreme Archangel, he could make Crowley an angel again. This would happen by removing a demon's name from the Book of Death and entering him, possibly under another name, into the Book of Life.
Yes, I have amused myself during the weekend by creating a theory in which the thing Metatron threatens Aziraphale with if he doesn't obey and the thing he promises as a reward if he does IS THE SAME EXACT THING.
Spread the news to all the angst-loving mostly canon-compliant fanfiction authors!
Removing things from existence
As a final point in this post that has long run away from me and I'm not sure has a point any longer, I'd like to remind you of something.
Mentioning the Book of Life in season 2 is not the first time that the concept of removing something from existence and making it so it would never have happened appears in Good Omens Universe.
Please remember Adam Young, the Antichrist, who faced Satan at the Tadfield Airbase and declared he was not his father and never had been. Reality listened to him and Satan disappeared. However, it didn't change the timeline, didn't erase the events that already happened, and didn't exactly strip Adam of his powers.
What does it mean?
No idea.
Thank you for your patience.
#good omens#good omens 2#good omens spoilers#good omens 2 spoilers#good omens meta#good omens unhinged meta#I just rolled with it
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10 Lessons from a transfemme gym rat
I’m the only trans person at my local gym. I sometimes worry that I stick out like, well, the only trans person in a room full of cisfolk. I’m taller than most of the men and broader than all the women; my face often darkened by stubble because I have electrolysis later that week and can't shave; and I have to wear loose fitting shorts rather than tight leggings so that I don't accidently cock slap someone when I’m on the elliptical.
I don’t see any trans fitness content on my feeds either, presumably because the algorithm is as confused about my gender as my parents are. It sort of understands that I am a woman but occasionally forgets, and is utterly dumfounded by the idea that trans people might doing something other than porn and JK Rowling discourse.
Since transition, I can now imagine a future where before there was only a grey expanse. I realised if I wanted to live that future, I needed to start taking better care of myself. So with Lady Ballers still fresh in the cultural consciousness, I stepped foot into a space that felt not only unwelcome, but actively hostile to my presence. Nearly six months on, here’s an incomplete list of what I've learned so far.
1. None actually gives a shit
What a fucking relief that was! I expected to be immediately clocked and then chased out the building by pitchfork wielding gigachads. But here’s the thing — a little seceret I try to remember while at the gym — literally no one cares or has any interest in me. People do not talk at the gym, they do not make eye contact, they do not smile. They lift weights in the corner or sweat on the treadmills. My presence as a trans person does not factor into their gains, or distract them from scrolling on their phone between sets. Even in my tiny ass local gym, I’m basically invisible.
2. Take up space
I know it feels hostile out there for trans people at the moment, but for the time being our right to take up space is enshrined by UK law. Cis people take up space all the time. It would never occur to them that they might be unwelcome somewhere, and even if it did that wouldn’t stop them. If you've ever been to a Pride, you know exactly what I mean.
We have the same right to access these facilities as any of those cis dudes full-stacking the chest press. Anti-trans campaigners are trying to exclude us from public life; don't do the work for them by refusing to participate. They will have to physically remove me if they want that, but I’ll be so jacked they won’t be able to. Which brings me to my next point…
3. Strength is power
If you’re transfeminine, physical strength is power. It is protection. Unless they hit the gym too, most people aren’t as strong as they think they are. Estrogen will prevent you from getting too girthy, but you’ll be surprised how quick you can build muscle with a regular routine. I’m stronger now than I’ve ever been, and I feel confident I could defend myself if necessary just by having that extra raw power on my side.
I get that plenty of transfemmes want to lean away from physical strength for a number of valid, dysphoria-related reasons. But don’t let it be because society tells you women have to be weak, or that you’re not a real woman because you're strong. That’s some misogynist bullshit. You can be whatever you want. To that end…
4. Fuck gender
Fuck it right into the bin. The world of physical fitness is incredibly gendered. It relentlessly reinforces the idea that men are supposed to be big and strong, and women are supposed to be thin with a juicy butt. Fuck that. I’m a non-binary transfemme. I want a juicy butt and to be jacked as hell. I want to be able to bodyslam a grown man and look good while doing it. Now more than three years into transition, I’ve left behind certain aspirations of unachievable femininity, but I’ve also never been hotter. I feel like myself in whole new ways. Confident, powerful, beautiful. I am the woman I always too afraid to be, and it fucking rules.
5. My relationship to my body has changed
I spent the last 33 years disconnected from the sack of meat that contains my unwilling consciousness. Even as transition progressed, I did not want to be a part of my body. But as I exercise, feel my muscles working and my heart pumping, I am connected to it. I am a part of it. There is something beautiful about that. All my life I avoided exercise because I couldn’t stand my physical form. But now I recognise that my body is my home, and I should care for it like I care for the rest of my world.
6. Exercise is actually good for you
Every smug prick that tells you that exercise is good for your mental health and general well being was, unfortunately, correct. I want more than nothing else to rot in my own filth, smoking weed and eating doritos until I die. But that leaves me feeling like literal shit, and the improvement I’ve noticed in mood, energy levels, sleep quality and general daily vibe cannot be ignored. I resent this truth, yet here we are.
Exercise has not “fixed” me or suddenly cured my lifelong depression. I’ve been more depressed in the last few months than I have since I started transition, but exercise was actually the one thing that kept me going. I almost had no choice on whether I went to the gym. It happened at times against my will, but it always improved my mood, even if I did just go right back to a RuneScape-induced fugue afterwards.
7. Setting the vibe
For whatever reason, gyms love to play Radio 1. I can only assume this is because whoever is in charge of the music was hired by Satan to ruin my day with inane chat and the musical equivalent of liquid diarrhoea. Before you call me a boomer, I was born hating all things popular and despite my best efforts I really can’t find a way to feel any differently about it.
So if you’re like me, which is to say very cool and refined, you need headphones to blast some raw punk for those weight sessions. I’m talking about Soft Play, Lambrini Girls, Be Your Own Pet, Amyl and the Sniffers. If you’re on the treadmill or elliptical you want an audiobook; something compelling, uncomplicated, and full of action. No mournful dyke lit. I’m sorry fans of Julia Armfield, but Our Wives Under the Sea isn’t going to cut it when you’re only 15 minutes into cardio and already want to die. For my money though, the best cardio option is to hop on a bike, get your Switch out and play Legend of Zelda. “Oh, but what if someone judges me for playing my Switch at the gym?” That person can eat shit. Also, they won't because as highlighted earlier, no one cares!
8. Leisure centres are your friends
Leisure centres, unlike private gyms, are funded with your taxes. They are the public libraries of getting jacked. Make use of those spaces. They are usually cheaper than the alternative and yes, they might be a bit grottier but they’re still pretty good. Don’t be afraid of the staff, they are there to help you.
Make sure to get an induction too. It should be free and will help familiarise you with the space and how the machines work. Do not wing it unless you wanna show up, cause a scene by hurting yourself and then get taken out on a stretcher. Most leisure centres will also offer to put together a workout plan, and some of the fancier ones will give you a full fitness MOT where you can learn about your bone density and shit. Not my gym, because it’s small and crap. But you probably have better facilities on your doorstep than I do within 20 miles.
9. The changing room question
You have the legal right to use the changing rooms that align with gender identity. Labour even recently dropped plans to rewrite the equality act, which would have removed that right. So for now, it's yours — use it. That said, if you’re really nervous about the changing rooms, contact the gym beforehand and ask what their facilities are like. Do they have changing booths? Or gender neutral spaces?
I rarely if ever change at the gym. I either get ready at home, or even change in my car sometimes like the lil gremlin I am. If that’s not an option, put on your gym clothes under your outfit for the day, and wear something simple like a jumpsuit so you can get changed with minmal fuss. If you absolutely need to change at the gym and aren’t comfortable or don’t feel safe using the changing rooms, use a disabled toilet. That might be controversial, but your safety and comfort matters. If people are going to give you shit, or if you don’t have access to the facilities you need to feel safe, claim space where you can. As long as you are respectful of others who need that space too.
10. Don’t get in your own way
This is where I will do the most projecting, but as someone who is both trans and autistic, I really thought going to the gym would be too fraught an experience for me to handle. I worried that I was going to get clocked, or ridiculed or harassed or merely perceived against my will.
But let me remind you: No one else cares. You are allowed to be there. You are entitled to these spaces. If someone gives you shit, whether that staff or users, report them to management. File a formal complaint. Make it clear what actions they take to make it right. Advocate for yourself. If that’s too overwhelming, ask a friend to help. Hell, drop me a line and I’ll put those bitches in their place for you.
Yes, it’s fucking exhausting having to fight for every inch of space, every moment of safety, but fuck the rest of the world. If they can’t handle our presence, that’s their problem. Soon you’ll be jacked as hell and able to throw them down a well if they give you any trouble.
#fitness#exercise#gymlife#gym#gymrat#trans joy#transgender#fuck gender#trans experience#trans fitness#health & fitness
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Thess vs Attrition
Thing I figured out about Warhammer: Total War III? That’s one for a day when I have literally nothing else to do. Definitely not for before-bed play. It’s definitely interesting from a tactical perspective, at least from what I could tell from the story campaign prologue thing (what little I played of it last night), but hooooboy do the combats take awhile. Kind of fun to watch once all the tactics are set up, but still. I think I’ll stick with things that are a little less ... epically large on work days.
On the subject of work days - Temp can go straight to hell. I did two fifteen-minute long monstrosities and about a dozen five-minute long messes today, and yet she still tries to just leave the seven- and eight-minute bits of dictation for me (or someone else, I guess, but given I’m the only other dedicated typist, it’s usually me) to get done. Well, tough luck on you, Temp; I remembered from yesterday about checking the length of my various dictations, and timed my day’s end so that your “Let’s just leave it sitting here and take advantage of [Thess’] tendency to actually take things in date order like we’re fucking supposed to” wasn’t going to pan out for you this time. If I can do the fifteen-minute monstrosities, you can break your apparent personal rule about not doing anything longer than three minutes unless forced. Or maybe not, because I guess I forced the issue. Or rather, common fucking sense did. It wasn’t a great pain day and I refused to push any harder than I already did to do the shit she doesn’t want to do.
I swear, I’m going to start keeping a collection of screenshots of exactly what the typing queue looks like after she’s done her little cherry-picking routine and send them to Scruffman to underline what she’s doing. The most I do in terms of taking things out of date order is, “Oh, there’s a few urgent reports; they’re short and there’s a lot of long ones here, so I’ll just nab those as well as the long bullshit so I can bash them out real quick and get them out of the way”. That or, “It’s nearly the end of my workday and I don’t have time to do the long-ass nightmares that Temp has left for me but there are a few urgents, so I’ll do those with my last ten minutes”.
I swear, it’s a war of attrition at this point. She keeps just doing whatever the hell she wants like she hopes I’ll just cave and go, “Oh, fine, since she really doesn’t want to do those, I guess I’ll have to”. While I admit I occasionally have the urge because this is just getting frustrating and stressful, mostly what she’s doing is giving me access to my spite-related energy reserves in the cause of thwarting her. I will do my share of the tough ones, obviously. They’re part of the job. And honestly, if she just came to me and said, “I really struggle with this one individual; can we work something out about this?”, we could figure something out so that the workload was divided more evenly in terms of the long annoying cases. But it isn’t that. I’ve asked twice. It’s just, “Oh, I don’t feel like I’m being productive if I’m not doing a whole lot of reports”. Which ... bitch, please. That’s her saying, “I don’t care if you look unproductive because you’re doing so few reports compared to me; as long as it’s not me looking unproductive or being inconvenienced in any way”.
I mean, seriously. I have tried everything. I’ve talked to her, I’ve given her my macros to make the long ones easier for her, everything. But she still avoids anything longer than three minutes like the plague and it’s Riverdancing on my last fucking nerve. And while I’ve talked to Scruffman about it, and he does believe me, I still feel like showing him proof in the form of screenshots when she’s really taking the piss would be beneficial. I want her to know that while I’m happy to take my share of the long and difficult cases, I won’t have them all dumped on me. The long and complicated ones are fucking painful for me. Literally. At least the shorter ones give me microbreaks; I can’t stop for a minute in the middle of a fifteen-minute long mastectomy report, especially not when it’s being dictated by someone who insists on dictating things out of order, makes corrections at the end of the report for something he said ten minutes ago, and sometimes gets careless and forgets whole sections of block key.
Sorry. It’s been a hard day and I’m frustrated and sore. Still, it’s a pretty day and I was able to have the windows open to let in the fresh spring air (albeit laden with pollen; everyone’s allergies have gone nuts this year, and mine are no exception), and my plants are flourishing. Later there will be leftover risotto, and there will be video games. Just ... not the really long drawn-out one.
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i think this is the start of something bigger. i had the silliest idea. i'm going to plan my whole life around a prank as an, albeit dumb, way to see a future for myself. This is the start of that prank.
Also, sort of a way to write down my life. Hell yeah we survived 10/18/2023! 1:56AM EST. Make today worth remembering, me.
i went to class, called my dad, and had myself a bit of a meltdown actually punched my head a bit, ah meltdowns... doing calc homework. i really like the, "I walked so they can run." mindset, but people seem to have this, "So I am owed This From You" attitude added onto it which really rubs me the wrong way.
It's nice that tumblr remembers to write down the dates so I don't have to, but for easier data transferring purposes, I'll be putting the date in the post.
I'm not a writer. I'm just a thought translator. I really wonder what thought is. I'm gonna google that real quick. Omfg i'm right. We're just a bunch of fat sacks that talk with electricity better trying to figure out how to talk with other electricity better. I don't know if I've ever mentioned this before, but I think the next stage of evolution is via technology. Only the richest will survive. I wonder how we're going to push the Earth away from the sun as it expands. I'm predicting either humanity, or an entity other than humanity is able to comprehend this. I hope that it is, anyway, and not eaten.
Anyway, this is the start of my, "What it's like to live in 2020's" Journal, and you're getting close to the end of the story.
The only thing that'd top Covid19, Biden, Trump, and Obama, is nuclear world war. I hope for hope's sake that it will never come to that, however things do need to get worse before they can get better. Covid becoming endemic is certainly worse than before, but I believe it can get worse and that is why I'm gonna stop giving a shit about time well spent cuz it could all end tomorrow.
I'm also going to believe that it can get better though. I'm planning that with my partners. I'm making promises I have to keep. It has to get better eventually. It might not be for me today, but hopefully it got a little better for someone else in the world. I don't care that it never gets better for some people. I'm hoping I'm not one of 'em. If I am, this joke will be even more fucking funny omfg I can't wait. If I'm not, I'm gonna make sure others are one of the lucky ones as a way to show thanks. I never really looked towards the future before. Maybe the reason why we're fighting so hard is because we end up winning in the end? Maybe tomorrow will be a little better and evolve into a big change.
Maybe we solve the climate crises.
Maybe we solve the billionaire problem(public execution maybe? I joke, but you can't deny it's a problem that has to be solved within another 20 years).
Maybe we solve health problems(give people aids/make things accessible, not eugenics pls for the love of fuck don't take this the wrong way).
Maybe we'll be around to see it.
That's worth something, I think.
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So I have a lot of brainrots and stuff that I share with my brother but nobody else that I felt like sharing with you. One of them is what if creator!Reader subconsciously ends up sending like... gifts from our world to Teyvat. Like giving them a taste of the things the creator likes or is familiar with and are tailored to the characters who get them, so like Yun Jin, Xinyan, and Venti get access to an interdimensional radio that plays music from Earth, and Albedo gets like science textbooks, and tech that is too advanced for Teyvat and has media would be translated into book form, so cartoons become comics/manga so like Klee gets like a manga version of MLP:FiM and Beidou gets a novel series version of Pirates of the Caribbean... maybe Zhongli gets copies of myths and legends from earth history cause he seems like he'd like that...
Oh my god this is so cool, like, and this is kind of expanding on that in a different form, if reader just happened to look at an everyday object they owned and thought "Huh, you know I bet *insert character here* would find this interesting" then boom, it's transported directly to them (in three to five business days—)
So like the first few times it happens everyone is super confused, I mean, random stuff that they didn't even know existed is suddenly appearing in front of them
As soon as word gets out that your the one doing it, all hell is going to break loose, anything that makes its way from your world to their world is going to be seen as a blessed object, the receiver as someone who has gained your favor
So there's probably going to be ceremonies dedicated to this where everyone tries to get your attention so that you might think of them more (and therefore have a higher probability of you accidentally sending them something that reminds you of them)
Like characters that you would typically only see on character quest or specific storylines are going to be appearing more frequently outside of that, doing anything possible to get you to strike up a conversation so they can keep you there as long as possible
Characters that you already own are going to try their hardest to stay as a part of the main team, a suspicious increase in attack rates, sometimes it looks like the attacks don't even hit them, how suspicious
Suddenly these mostly meaningless things that you wouldn't even glance twice at in your own world become the most important object that person owns, it'll be treasured and displayed and shown off
Since everybody just assumes the more things a person has the more well liked they are, the characters which end up getting a lot from you are going to be both the object of adoration and jealousy, you've successfully placed a target on their backs—
Getting into more specifics, I think it would be so funny if you were reading a modern chemistry or just general science book for your class or job or even just a pass time, and then happened to think of Albedo, because that book would contain knowledge that is so far beyond what they currently know
What they could understand would probably completely blow their minds about the universe and elements and how all of that works
It'll probably be interpreted that you are the one who wrote that btw, you'll be hailed as an absolute genius (as if they didn't already think that), and also incredibly merciful for sharing your wisdom with the rest of them
That's stupid textbook would become the most read and studied book by all of the greatest minds in Teyvat
Of course it is still owned by Albedo, who is incredibly honoured that you would choose to share this with the world through him
And God forbid if you accidentally happened to think of Zhongli while reading a history book—
I could see that turning into a disaster real quick, I mean, everybody is going to learn about the fact that you live in a completely separate world with other people similar to you, and how that world is incredibly cruel and heartless—
It would strengthen their resolve to physically take you away from there
Of course, that does all hinge on the notion that Zhongli would let anybody else even touch that book, which is a little far fetched
I imagine mythology books would be a much safer bet, but there's always a chance that those could be taken as actual history books to so—
I could imagine Venti getting modern instruments, books of poetry perhaps, and I think the funniest would be some kind of iPod, or any other type of music storing device that runs on battery power
Because imagine it, they don't really have anything like that there, so it would take a bit of trial and error to even figure out what it is and how to use it, then he suddenly learns that it's used to play music (which is just so crazy to all of them), music that is completely unlike anything that they have ever heard or known to be possible, even for him with his self proclaimed knowing all music that has and will ever exist
And then the battery dies—
It's not like any of them know how to charge it or even that they have to, so then he assumes that he just broke the gift you gave him—
I want you to imagine what a distraught person looks like, now take that image and multiply it by 10 or so
Venti is going to feel so bad, you went through all this trouble to send him a specialized gift (which was better than anything you have ever sent anyone else in his eyes), and he breaks it
If you were there physically he would apologize for days on end, but since you aren't there physically, he has to simply use that energy apologizing to the statute of you and praying that you'll forgive him
If he gets another gift after that he'll feel better about the whole thing, taking that as a sign of your forgiveness
(Venti would also accidentally be given a lot of wine by me because I just think about him everytime I see bottles anywhere)
Childe would probably be most likely to get various types of weaponry, I'm basing a lot of this soley off of what items cause me to think of these characters btw, but he would really take great pride and whatever you gave him, even if it was like stupid little trinkets (Childe with a tiny bow key chain that he puts on his actual bow let's go—)
I really want Thoma to get a dog stuffed animal, because I think that would be incredibly cute
I think the kids getting things would be absolutely adorable, especially if it was kind of unorthodox things
Like Qiqi now has a large pile of coconuts and coconut shaped toys, because every time you see one you can't help but think of her
Klee would get cute comics and probably a large amount of various toys that are red, she would hoard them all in her room and refused to give them up for anything
It's just such a fun idea, and really personalized too since everyone has different associations for characters and objects, thank you for sharing <3
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What is your writing advice for young people who want to write fanfiction and original stories in the near future?
If this is just Way Too Much, skip to the end (#16). My most important piece of advice is there. I also happen to think #5 is pretty good.
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1) Literally just write. Write whatever you want, and do a lot of it.
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2) You don’t have to post everything. In fact you don’t have to post anything. You can, don’t get me wrong, but it can be intimidating to sit down and think “I will now write something that other people will see and read and judge with their eyeballs.” Because that’s probably gonna lead to nerves and writer's block. Just write down the ideas that you have, the things you want to write, whatever’s in your brain that you want to explore and expand upon and make into something. And then if you want to, share it. Or don’t share it. I have plenty of half-baked ideas and documents and random story chapters and shit hidden away on my Google Drive that will never see the light of day, for a whole number of reasons. I wanted to write it but it wasn’t ~Spicy~ enough to warrant posting, or it’s only like an eighth of a good idea, or it’s like one scene with no story around it, or it’s just something incredibly self-indulgent I just wanted to write for my own enjoyment.
Point being, don’t write for other people. Don’t write so that other people can read it; write what you want, write for yourself, and then if you want to share it, do.
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3) You can pretty much ignore any and all of these for fanfiction. In fact, you can ignore pretty much any rules or guidelines you want for fanfiction. Fanfic is a sandbox. You don’t have to be a “professional writer” to post fic. No one expects you to be Stephen King or Margaret Atwood. Fanfic is just for playing in a fandom and having fun. If you wanna write a 50 chapter slow burn with very little plot aside from the OTP slowly getting to know each other, and no real stakes or central conflict, I guarantee people would read that. Really, fanfiction is the Old West of writing: lawless, wild, unpredictable, and free.
However, here are the rules you must follow:
-Separate your paragraphs. (I’m sure you know this already, but I’m gonna say it anyway just in case.) Do not post one big block of text. Make a paragraph break when someone new is talking, when the characters are in a new place, when a new event occurs that changes the scene, when a chunk of time has passed, and when there’s a major change in subject.
-I know it’s obvious, but... grammar, punctuation, and capitalization. They exist to make writing easy for readers to read, and more people will read your stuff if they don’t have to stop and try to figure out what you meant.
-Use tags and labels, as is possible with whatever site you’re using. Especially if you include possibly triggering content in your story. Again, I know it’s obvious, but it’s common courtesy. Bonus: tagging the themes and content of your story helps readers find it and read it :)
-If possible, limit the use of all-caps and exclamation marks / question marks. 99% of the time, one ! or one ? will do. If you overload the page with a lot of all-caps and long rows of exclamation marks or question marks, it hampers readability.
... That’s literally all I can think of. And, like I said, it’s all pretty basic stuff. You were probably rolling your eyes like, “Uh, yeah, Gwen, I know.” But that’s literally it. You can pretty much do whatever you want in fanfic.
That being said, here’s my advice for both fanfiction and original work...
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4) A quick and dirty rule for coming up with a plot, starting a story, keeping up pacing, or maintaining tension: figure out what dreams, desires, and goals are nearest and dearest to your main character’s heart (see #16). Then set up the main conflict to be directly in opposition to that goal. It doesn’t have to be in a tangible way, though it could be. But, if your main character wants more than anything to reach the ships on the southern coast of your world and sail to a new life, make sure the main conflict immediately prevents them from doing that - in fact, make sure to send them north. If your main character just wants to keep their loved ones safe, kidnap the loved ones. If your main character just wants to date their best-friend-turned-crush, make sure they think they have no chance - or, make them cocky about it, and make sure it makes Person B determined not to ever like them. You get it. Figure out what your character most wants, and then keep them from having that. Boom - your conflict now ties in with your character's motivation. It's like instant yeast for plots.
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5) If you’re anything like me, you want your first draft to be Good, despite all that advice about how the first draft doesn’t have to be good and it’s just to get words on the page, yadda yadda. And if you’re somewhat of a perfectionist (like myself), it’s easy to get stuck looking at a blank page because you don’t have The Perfect Words, and you want what you write to be Good the first time.
Here’s how I cheat that:
Instead of trying to write a Good First Draft from a blank page, hit the enter key a few times, skip a little down on the page, change your ink to red (or blue, or whatever - just something immediately identifiable as Not Black) and just thought vomit. Write whatever the hell you’re thinking, exactly as you think it. Don’t worry about it being readable, don’t worry about narrative flow for now, don’t worry about covering all the details, don’t worry about anything except either a) getting all the details of your idea out onto the page, whether that’s a lot or whether it’s just a sentence or two, or b) if you don’t have an idea yet, finding your way there.
Because this method is also very good for finding your way to ideas when you’re stuck in writer’s block.
Because of how human brains work, getting this stuff out onto the page - in all its messy, stream-of-consciousness glory - will likely spark more thoughts. As you write your original idea about the scene, it’ll likely spark more ideas. Creation begets creation. If you just start thought-vomiting your ideas onto the page, chances are you’ll think of more things as you go, and you’ll start filling out description or dialogue or tone or action or whatever, and pretty soon the scene starts writing itself.
Not sure where you’re going with the scene or which ideas you wanna use? Use a lot of ambivalent language in your “thought-vomit draft.” My pre-writing notes are chock-full of the words “maybe,” “perhaps,” and the phrases, “At some point...” and “...or something like that.” In this way, I don’t tie myself down to one idea; it’s just an idea, and I’m keeping it on the page in case I use it, but I might chuck it in the trash or change it or whatever.
And then, once your ideas for the scene (or story, or chapter, or whatever) are on the page, then go back to the top and start translating them into a “real” first draft. Use black ink, and start copy-pasting chunks of the thought-vomit up into the top part of the document and translating them into Draft 1. Separate out paragraphs where paragraph breaks should be. Add the correct punctuation and whatnot. Change ��describe the lobby here - include potted plants, fancy carpet, blood stain, etc.” into an actual description of the lobby. Flesh it out, or condense, or whatever it needs. And if you’re still stuck, change back to red ink and ramble some more until you find a path that feels right, then plug that in. This keeps you from looking at a blank page, and it allows you to generate a kind of Draft 0.5, somewhere between a plan and a first draft.
You don’t have to use every idea. Like I said, jot down whatever comes to mind, put a “maybe” before or after it, and keep working. If the idea grabs you and you wanna keep expanding on it and exploring it, cool. If you just wanna jot it down so you don’t forget it and then move on, also cool. Red-ink draft / “thought-vomit draft” is your time to jump around in the timeline, add or finesse details at whatever point your brain moves to, etc. Don’t try to do it exactly in story order, because you will get tangential thoughts and ideas, and you will not remember to write them down five pages later when you finally get to taking notes on that scene. Trust me. On that note...
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6) Write everything down the moment you think of it. Seriously.
“I’ll remember it when I get around to writing that scene in a couple days / weeks / months (/years).”
You won’t.
Write it down.
Phone, journal, google docs - hell, my family regularly laughs at me for grabbing a napkin during dinner and scribbling thoughts down alongside pasta sauce stains.
And then, once you have it written down somewhere...
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7) Consolidate your writing ideas in one place.
Maybe this isn’t really your style, and that’s totally chill.
Buuuut, if you’re Type-A like me - or if you tend to be somewhat unorganized and you know you’ll lose track of your writing notes if they’re scattered across multiple notebooks, journals, napkins, phone notes, etc. - having one consolidated document of notes is a life saver. I keep mine on Google Docs so I can access it, add to it, and look through it for inspiration anywhere at any time. When I have one of those Shower Thoughts that I jot down on my phone or on a napkin during dinner, I set myself a reminder on my phone to type it up in my Story Ideas document later.
(Or, if the idea I had was for a story of mine that I’ve already started planning / drafting / whatever, I put it in the document for that story instead of the Big Random Story Ideas doc. You get it.)
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8) Have other ways to collect and save writing ideas, besides just writing stuff down. If you like Pinterest, make pinterest boards of your characters or stories or settings or whatever. If you’re big into playlists, make a playlist for your character / setting / story / etc. Or both. Or something else. I’m not good at drawing, but maybe you are, and maybe you like to draw your ideas. Whatever form it takes, having another way to save ideas and think about your stories is invaluable.
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9) Some writers can just start writing with no idea where the story is going, and they just kind of figure it out as they go. I envy those writers. And I do that sometimes for fanfiction, where the stakes are somewhat lower and the audience is reading more for scene-to-scene enjoyment (and to see their OTP kiss) than for a Driving And Compelling Narrative.
But here’s the thing: especially if you’re just kind of starting out, writing without some sort of plan is really, really hard, and will likely lead you into a slow, meandering narrative that will likely frustrate you.
Even if you think you’re someone that just can’t write with a plan (and again, I have the highest respect for pansters out there - I don’t know how you do it, you crazy bastards, but you keep doing you) - even if you think “I can’t work with plans, they’re too prescriptive, I just want to write and see what happens -”
Try at least making the most skeletal of plans.
Even if you have no clue what 90% of the story is, yet. That’s fine. But you need to have some idea of what you’re building to, even if that’s nothing more specific than a feeling, or a turning point for your character. Even if your entire plan for everything beyond Chapter 1 is, “At some point, Charlie needs to realize that Ed was lying to her.”
This is where those Draft 0.5 notes come in handy. Because, more than likely, working on your current scene that way will spark ideas for later scenes, which you can put down at the bottom of the document and save for when they become relevant. In my experience, the line between planning ahead and making a Draft 0.5 is exceptionally thin. One can quickly turn into the other.
If you’re really, really resistant to the idea of planning ahead, that’s okay. It’s not everybody’s style. But for the love of all that is holy, write down your ideas for future scenes, even if you’re a person that doesn’t like to plan and writes only in story order, because you will not remember that idea once you get to that scene.
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10) You don’t have to write in order.
Here’s the thing: I’m a person that can only do my Draft 1 in story order (meaning, chronological order). I just have to be in that flow; I need to write in story order for me to best channel where the character is at from scene to scene, both narratively and emotionally.
But my Thought Vomit Draft is another thing entirely. By using the brain hack of putting my notes in red (or another color, it doesn’t matter) and going down to the bottom of the document / page and taking notes there, and then integrating them into whatever plan I have, and then translating them into Draft 1 once I get there in the story - by doing that, I can get my good ideas onto the page (and expound upon them and let my muse carry me and ride that momentum while I’m in the moment of inspiration) without writing out of order.
Maybe that’s just me. But if you’re a person who really prefers to write in story order, that could be hugely helpful to you. It is to me.
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11) Emotion and motivation will do more for your story than technicalities of plot.
If your characters really care about something, and their journey through the (shaky or weak) plot is emotionally engaging, it will be a much more compelling story than a story with a “perfect” plot and unrelatable or unmotivated characters.
If your characters care about what they’re doing, and it means something to them, and their goals and actions are driven by dreams or fears or emotions that are integral to who they are, your audience will care too. If you have a perfectly crafted plot that hits all the right beats and has high stakes and fast pacing and drama - but your characters don’t connect with what’s happening in a way that’s deeply meaningful or emotional for them? You’re gonna have a hard time engaging readers.
When in doubt, prioritize character emotion and motivation over plot. Emotion is what drives story.
This power is highly exploitable. (Just look at pulp novels and shitty but entertaining movies.) You can even use it to glaze over plot holes or reinvigorate a limp narrative. Use it that way sparingly, though. It’s a band-aid, not a surgery.
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12) Evil villains are hard to write - mostly because there are very few truly evil people in the world. (There are a few. Billionaires and several big name politicians come to mind.) But by and large, there aren’t that many evil people. There are plenty of bad people, but bad people have some good in them, somewhere in there. Trying to write an evil villain is hard, because they often turn very cartoony.
Here’s a tip: it’s much easier to write antagonists who aren’t evil. Even if they’re bad people. Of course, there’s no reason you can’t write a villain that’s just truly evil - a serial killer, or an abuser, or a billionaire, or someone who legit just wants to hurt people or blow up the earth or stay in control of an oppressed population, or whatever. But chances are, it’s gonna be really hard to make them feel real, and even harder to create a plot around them that doesn’t feel forced or contrived.
Instead, try writing an antagonist / villain whose motivations and goals directly clash with your protagonist’s - but not because they want to take over the world or see people suffer. Write an antagonist who’s chaotic good, but whose perception of the situation is completely opposite from your hero’s. Write an antagonist whose only desire is to save people, and who will do anything to achieve that goal - anything. Write an antagonist who believes in the letter of the law, and will hinder and oppose the hero’s methods even if they agree with the hero’s motivation. Write an antagonist who got in way over their head and did some things they regret, and now they don’t know how to get out, and they’re doing their best but whatever they set in motion is too powerful for them to stop now.
Write villains who are human. Write a killer who thought they were doing the right thing by taking their victim out of the equation, who vomits at the sight of the body and sobs over the grave they dig. Write a government leader who truly believes she’s doing what’s best for her people in the long-term, even if it might hurt them in the short term, and is willing to endure the hatred and belligerence of the masses if it means securing what she thinks is a better future for her people. Write a teenage bully that thinks they’re the one being picked on by the world, and they’re just fighting back, standing their ground. Write a scientist who will break any code of ethics and hurt anyone he needs to - in order to bring back his baby sister from the grave, because he promised her he’d protect her and he failed. Write an antagonist who is selfish and self-centered and capricious - because in order to survive they had to look out for Number One, and that habit ain’t about to break anytime soon.
Write villains who aren’t even villains. Write antagonists who oppose the hero because of moral differences. Write antagonists who are trying to do the right thing. Write antagonists who treat the heroes with kindness and dignity and respect and gentleness.
They don’t have to be good. They don’t have to be Misunderstood Sweethearts who “deserve” a redemption arc. They can be cruel and nasty and dismissive and callous and violent and etc. etc.
Just hesitate before you make them Evil-with-a-capital-E. Because evil is hard to write, and honestly, boring to read. Flawed human beings with goals and motivations that directly oppose the main characters’ are much easier to write and much more interesting to read.
Ask why. Why is your villain trying to take over the world? What does that even mean? Are they trying to create a Star-Trek-like post-capitalism utopia, but they know that won’t happen in a million lifetimes, so they’re trying to do it by force? Are they actually super in favor of human rights, but they got very impatient waiting for the world to do anything about poverty and war, so they decided to take it into their own hands? Are they determined to fix the world - no matter the cost? Are they terrified and overwhelmed, but committed to see it through to the end? Or - maybe they’re just doing it on a dare. Maybe they don’t really give a shit about world domination, they were just a mediocre rich white guy who decided to fuck around and find out, and now he’s kind of curious how far he can take this thing. And now he’s kind of an internationally-wanted criminal, so he’s kind of stuck living on his hidden private island in his multi-billion dollar secret base, strapping lasers to sharks’ heads for the hell of it. Gross, selfish, uncaring, and dangerous? For sure. Evil? Depends on your definition. See, now we’re getting somewhere.
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13) It’s tempting to let the plot control the characters. It’s easy to drop your characters into a situation and see how they react. But here’s the thing: that doesn’t drive plot. In fact, it bogs down pacing. Instead, try to build you plot off of your characters’ actions and decisions. Let your character build their own situation. Not to say it should go they way they wanted it to go; in fact, usually, their grand plans should go to hell very quickly. But having the characters take action and make decisions, and letting the plot develop based on that, is much easier to make compelling than making a rigid series of events and then trying to herd your characters into them.
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14) Having trouble justifying a character’s actions? Consider having them make the opposite decision, or having them approach the situation in a different way. For example: you need your character to go meet the bad guy, for plot reasons, even though there’s no way it’s not a trap. If the character goes, readers are gonna be groaning with their head in their hands, because c’mon man, that was really fucking stupid. But he’s gotta go, because the plot needs that. Two ways you might handle this: a) He knows it’s probably a trap. He decides not to go. The plot conspires to get him near the villain anyway. Or, b) He knows it’s a trap. But he needs to go, for (insert reasons here). So, he approaches it in an unexpected way. He brings backup, recruiting a side character we met earlier in the story. Or he arrives on the back of a dragon, because ain’t nobody gonna fuck with a dude on a dragon. Or he goes - early, and ambushes the villain. It may work, it may not. He may get himself kidnapped anyway. But it moves the plot along without having Stupid Hero Syndrome.
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15) This is a legit piece of advice: if all of this sounds overwhelming, literally just ignore it and write what you want. For real. Writing should be fun, and every single writer operates differently. If you’re sitting here like “I’m getting stressed just reading this,” just flip me a good-natured bird and get on with your life. I promise I won’t take it personally. Same goes for literally any other writing advice you see. Lots of rules and guidelines can very quickly make anything thoroughly un-fun. Just write. If you’re passionate about it and you do it for long enough, you’ll start figuring out the tips and tricks on your own.
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16) Here’s the best piece of advice I can give you: know your characters. More importantly, know what’s important to them. Build their personality and decisions off of that, and build your plot off of their decisions.
I see a lot of character building sheets that ask a shit-ton of questions like “What’s their most prized possession?” “Do they like their family?” “What’s their favorite food?”
And while these are good questions, my problem with this type of character building is that if you start there, with the little stuff, you’re building on nothing. IMO, to make a truly strong character (not strong like Inner Strength, strong like effective), you need a strong foundation.
Here are the things you must know about your character:
a) What are their greatest fears / deepest insecurities? And I don’t mean “wasps” or “heights.” I mean the deep shit. I mean fears like “living a meaningless life,” or “turning out just like their parents,” or “that no one will ever love them,” or “being powerless.” You may say, “But they’re really scared of wasps! They fall into a wasp nest when they were little and got stung so much they almost died!” Great! That’s a fantastic bit of backstory. They should absolutely be afraid of wasps, and that should absolutely be an impediment later in the story. But dig deeper. What about that event actually scarred them? Was it the helplessness? Stumbling around, swatting at the air, not being able to do a single thing to stop what was happening to them? Was it that they were alone, and no matter how loud they screamed, no one was coming? Was it the bodily horror of feeling themself turn into an inhuman creature as they swelled up from the stings, unable to move their fingers or face normally anymore?
And don’t forget insecurities, because those factor in, too. Are they deeply insecure about their identity? Do they believe, deep down, that they’re ugly? Did they grow up poor and they’ve always been really touchy about that? Why? Dig deep. Figure out what really, really bothers them.
b) What are their hopes and dreams? What do they truly want out of life? What do they consider the most valuable to their experience here in this thing called life? Is it the freedom to forge their own path and be independent? Is it the approval of their family or peers? Is it a home? Is it knowledge, or understanding? Spiritual fulfillment? Is it deeply important to them that they contribute to their community, or protect those they love? What do they need in order to feel truly and deeply fulfilled in life?
Figure out those two things (each one encompasses several things, btw, you don’t have to stop at just one for each), and then use that to inform how they behave and the types of decisions they make within the story.
It also informs character behavior and personality.
Let’s say we have a character who’s afraid of helplessness. They’re probably gonna be the person that always wants to do something, try something, no matter how hopeless the situation seems. They’d despise just sitting and waiting, probably, because it makes them feel powerless. They might even be the person that makes rash decisions and acts impulsively and puts themself in danger unnecessarily, because in their mind it’s better than being at the mercy of fate. This is one way you could use a character’s personality to inform their decisions, which in turn helps to inform plot.
Or, let’s say we have a character whose greatest fear is being left behind or forgotten. We may have a chatterbox on our hands. They might be obnoxious. They might love the spotlight, constantly vying for attention no matter the situation, because deep down they’re so afraid that they’d be forgotten otherwise. Or, it may go the opposite way. They may be so afraid of people leaving them that they’re terrified of bothering people. They don’t want to do anything that could annoy people, anything that might give people a reason to leave them. They might be exceedingly polite, quiet, accommodating. A push-over, really.
These are two nearly opposite types of personalities, both stemming from the same core fear/insecurity. You can go a lot of different ways with it. But if you build on that strong foundation, you’ll have a strong character, and a stronger plot.
Likewise, the structure of your story can and should inform the design of these character traits. If you need your characters to team up near the end, it may be impactful if you give your main character a deep fear of commitment, an insecurity about being unwanted or left behind, and make them highly value independence and freedom. That could make their team-up for the final battle very meaningful. Conversely, you can use your character’s deepest fears and desires to help design the plot. Is your character deeply insecure about voicing their opinions or taking a stand, because of trauma they faced in the past? Make them face that. Build that into the climactic third act. Give them the big inspirational speech where they stand up and talk about what they believe to be important, what they think the group should do. And then design that character arc to run through the story, giving you more handholds and stepping stones, more pieces of foundation on which to design the plot.
In this way, character should inform story as much as story informs character. It’s a feedback loop.
Bonus: if you build your character and your plot off of each other in this way, it automatically starts to build in the foundations of that emotional investment I mentioned earlier. If your character’s decisions are based on what they most want and do not want in life, you basically have your character motivation and stakes pre-built.
Note: you need to know these things about your villain, too.
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I’m genuinely sorry about the length of this, lmao. But you did ask.
Best of luck!
Edit: I forgot an important one:
17) Start when the scene starts and end when the scene ends.
What do I mean by that?
If your notes say “Danny asks Nicole out after school and majorly flubs it,” start the scene when Danny approaches Nicole after school. Better yet, cold-open the scene on “I was wondering if, you know, you’d wanna. You know. Hang out some time?”
Don’t start that morning when Danny goes to school, unless you’re gonna cover the school day in like one or two sentences. Don’t spend whole paragraphs going through the school day, unless it’s to cover other plot points first (in which case apply these same guidelines there), or if the paragraphs are there for a specific reason, like to illustrate how stressed he is and how it seems like every little thing is going wrong. Even then, trim the fat as much as possible. Expounding and describing everything Moment-to-moment is for the meat of the scenes, not the leading-up-to and coming-away-from.
Here’s my rule of thumb: study how and when movies cut from scene to scene. Movies have exceptionally strict, limited time for storytelling; they’re excellent examples of starting a scene when the plot point starts and ending when it’s over. If you can’t picture a movie showing everything you showed, start the scene later and end it earlier.
#asks#anon#writing advice#writing tips#writing#fanfic writing#fanfiction#character creation#plot development#character development#my advice#original writing
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Goodbyes- Bakugou Katsuki
Bakugou x f!reader (ft. Katsumi, yours and Katsuki’s daughter )
Warnings: Angst, Cursing, Bad Father-Daughter relationship, slight SLIGHT SLIGHT (like 0.00000000000001%) fluff, intense kiss cuz Katsuki’s a SLUT
Summary: Years have passed and even so, Bakugou never gave up on you. You or Katsumi. You were both his family. His girls. He needed the both of you. And he will do everything in his power to bring you both back to him, but his now 16 year old daughter doesn’t plan on making it easy for him.
BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST
Pt.1 Pt.2
11 years have passed since you left Katsuki that day. That horrid day. After leaving the house of hell, you went to Mina’s place to see your daughter. You saw her, happy, with her uncles and aunt. Her world was about to change and so you had to give her every ounce of happiness she could possibly get. You decided it would be best for both of you to stay in the welcoming home a little longer.
While continuing Katsumi’s play date, Mina had suggested you and Katsumi stay with her and Kirishima, but you declined. You knew it would be too easy for Katsuki to find you both and you knew he wouldn’t stop trying if he knew you were both at such easy access. And so, after hours and hours of Katsumi having the time of her life, it was time to bring her to her new home. For the time being at least.
After you left the happy couple’s house, you and Katsumi stayed in a hotel for the time being. It was a very nice place. Plenty of other kids for Katsumi to get along with, luxury rooms, and a pool! You both had stayed there for about a month until you found a gorgeous little house where you and Katsumi could call home. Not only was it spacious, luxurious, and all around amazing, if was far, far away from the previous home your shared with your soon-to-be ex husband.
You both had finally moved in, but that was the least of your problems. Like you told Katsuki, you allowed him to be a part of your daughter’s life. You allowed him to take care of her for 2 weeks, and then it was your turn. 2 weeks would pass and it would be his turn once again. You never allowed Katsuki to know where you both where. You kept your information very hidden and made sure your young daughter wasn’t capable of telling her father the new address whenever she was in his custody. You also never allowed Katsuki to pick Katsumi up. You always dropped her off, but never in a vehicle of your own. Can’t risk having him look up and track down your license plate. And if you couldn’t drop her off, you’d have Kirishima or Mina do it.
As time went on Katsumi continued to ask what was going on. Why was her life suddenly so different? She had asked Katsuki before, but he always told her it was a conversation she should have with her mom. When she asked you, you just smiled at her and told her “Things are changing right now, so it’ll just be me and you for a bit. But a Mommy-Daughter play date sounds fun doesn’t it? And it’ll last for a long time~” you said, hinting at what could possibly be the end of Katsumi and Katsuki’s relationship.
Thankfully, Katsumi liked the sound of that. Even though she was a daddy’s girl, she loved her mommy just as much! Of course her head would constantly be filled with thoughts of Katsuki but what can you do? You can’t bring her back to the cheater. Not permanently at least. You just...can’t.
Katsumi wasn’t the only one who was constantly thinking about family. Katsuki also had his face in every screen, every device, every piece of paper that might be able to help him find you. After you left him, he fell into a deep depression. He lost his two girls and it drove him mad. Even though he got to see Katsumi every 2 weeks, he knew that soon, she’d be old enough to be allowed to know what had happened. He was constantly on the lookout for you and where you could possibly be staying and with his friends refusing to help him, he concluded that for this job, he was on his own. He didn’t care. He had to find you again. He was going to bring his family back together.
—
A few years had passed. 6 to be exact. Katsumi was now 11 and she had questions. Why does life have to be like this? How long will the family be separated? Will we ever be together again? Due to all the confusion, Katsumi began to lash out constantly. It was like she was a mini version of her father. She needed answers. She needed to be led out of the dark. She needed to know. And it was time you told her. And boy, did you tell her something.
“Katsumi...your father left..because of me. I’m sorry. I was a horrible wife..and he just couldn’t take it anymore. It was understandable as to why he left..so..don’t be mad at him. Okay?” Y/N told her daughter.
Yup. You lied to her. You lied to your Katsumi but you had your reasons. A girl should think well of her father. Especially when that girl considered her father to be her best friend. So no, you didn’t tell Katsumi that the real reason you were separated was because her father cheated on you. You just couldn’t. Not when you knew Katsuki held the most important relationship in his daughter’s heart.
The relationship between a father and daughter is something irreplaceable. Something special. You couldn’t ruin it for her. So you were okay with her being mad at you, for her blaming you. As long as she was satisfied with her father-daughter “relationship,” that was good enough for you.
However, even though you put the blame on yourself, it didn’t stop Katsumi from being mad at her father too. He should’ve stayed. He should’ve tried to work things out. You both were her parents! You couldn’t even at least try to stay together for the sake of her? After finding out the “truth,” Katsumi did indeed grow resentment towards her dad. You were right in the end, and she no longer wanted to see him. That was fine with you. She could hate him, but as long as she didn’t know he was truly a scum, then that was settling as well.
Anger and fury resided in Katsumi. It bubbled up inside her and for the first 3 years in her teenage life, she was a child straight out of hell. Constantly in trouble, constantly taking out her anger on the world. You couldn’t blame her though, it was Katsuki’s fault she was like this. And you soon realized it was your fault since you lied to her too. Even so, you still didn’t tell her the truth. You opted to allowing Katsumi to express herself but with you and you only.
Katsumi was a good child at heart, but she was just lost in the dark. So when her mother allowed her to take her anger out on her, Katsumi did NOT lay a fist on her mother. Instead, she broke down. She broke down hard. Like she’s been broken all along.
“Was I not a good enough reason for him to stay?!” She sobbed out in anger as tears flowed down her face. You held your daughter as she cried and tore down all her walls she spent years building up. “I understand if your relationship was tough..but I hoped that maybe he would’ve came back to try for me at least. How could he just run away?! I just want my parents together. I just want to be considered! I’m not like other kids! I don’t have a family!!”
“I’m sorry, Katsumi.” You would whisper into her hair as she balled her eyes out. You didn’t expect your rebellious and strong child to be so..torn. You knew she was broken and you tried to help however you could but you never expected a meltdown. You were glad it happened though. After that day, followed a few more breakdowns. It was like Katsumi was opening the gates to allow everything to be bare just for her mother to see.
Her mother. Someone she now fully and completely trusts. Someone she loves. She allowed her mother to see all her cracks and damaged pieces. And thank god she did because now your mother-daughter relationship was better than ever. Katsumi replaced the thoughts of her father with happy memories of you. Instead of her father, her mother became her keeper, her guardian, her protector, her hero.
—
You smile as you look back on the journey you and your daughter traveled on. A happy family of 3, to a sad and confused duo, to a timid and raging two, to finally a content and happy mother and daughter. It’s been one hell of a ride for you, but if it meant reaching Katsumi’s happiness, then you’d happily do it all again.
“G’morning mom!” Katsumi happily said as she walked into the kitchen.
“There’s the beautiful birthday girl!” You happily said as you turned to your 16 year old daughter. Katsumi was no longer harmful towards others. Your once brutal and ruthless bully of a daughter became a sweet, sassy, and fun teenage girl. She was happy now. The sadness and anger finally left...at least, that’s what you thought. And that’s what she thought too. But the inner Katsumi was still in shambles...just..nobody knew that. Not even herself.
Katsumi was quick to jump onto you and give you a hug. She loved you. You became her best friend, her rock. Her protector and hero. It was always you two against the world and Katsumi wouldn’t have it any other way. “Not to be ‘self absorbed’ or anything, but are we doing anything special today?”
“Welll~ I know we haven’t seen them in a few months but I pulled some strings and so! Uncle Kiri, Uncle Denki, Uncle Sero, and of course Auntie Mina will be coming over to celebrate your 16th birthday!” You said with enthusiasm. You watched as your daughter’s jaw drop in happiness as tears of joy began to fill her eyes.
“Seriously?!” She asked with excitement and watched as you nodded your head. She jumped onto you once more and squeezed you tight. “Mom, that’s amazing! Thank you!”
You smiled as your daughter beamed with happiness. It’s been awhile since the Bakusquad (minus Bakugou) came to see Katsumi. Everytime they left their homes, Bakugou grew suspicious and assumed they were seeing Katsumi (and you of course), and even though he was right, he couldn’t know that. So to keep your location hidden from Katsuki, they had to stop seeing you and Katsumi for some time. After a few months, they decided it was perfect for them to pop up again on her 16th birthday, a very special time in a young girl’s life.
“Anything for you Sweetie! C’mon, I made your birthday breakfast and then we can get ready for the day. They’ll be here very soon!” You said to your daughter. She nodded and you both took your seats at the island, enjoying the delicious meal.
Growing up, Katsumi did indeed have friends, but they were more like school friends. She only talked to them in an educational environment but outside of school, her best friend was her mother. She was all she needed. Her friends were her aunt and uncles and that’s why she was more than happy to spend her 16th birthday with just them.
—
Katsuki looked at the date. His heart stung in pain as he stared down at the calendar.
“Katsumi’s birthday.....happy birthday Baby Bear.” He said in a broken voice. The same broken voice he had that day you left him. The same broken voice he’s had ever since you left him.
It’s been 11 years since you left. It’s been 5 since Katsumi decided she no longer wanted anything to do with him. Katsuki felt like he lost everything and in a way, he did. Even so, he kept the house the same in hopes that one day you’d return.
Over a decade has passed and Katsuki still holds hope that maybe..maybe if he prays long and hard enough..if he remains hopeful..his world will go back to normal.
Katsuki was so lost in thought that he didn’t even realize his own friends were possibly going to visit you and Katsumi. It wasn’t until he heard his phone ding and looked to see a notification from Denki to the Bakusquad group chat. Denki must’ve realized he texted the wrong chat room because he never sent another text. Coming to that conclusion, Bakugou assumed something was going on and so he got ready to make a quick trip to his best friend’s house to get in the know. This was a stretch considering they never told him anything about you, which he’ll agree is deserved, but regardless he won’t stop trying.
He got ready and once he was done he was right out the door. As he pulled up to the house he noticed not only Kirishima and Mina, he saw Sero and Kaminari. Something was definitely up. He pulled over to the side and just watched. He saw the 4 friends talking and laughing and finally, he saw the gifts. That’s what gave it away. He watched as the friends packed gifts into their cars and once he saw Kirishima bring a cake, that was all the confirmation Katsuki needed. They were going to see you. They knew where you were.
Katsuki stayed hidden as he followed his friends on the road. He stayed a few cars behind and took on a slow pace. Thankfully, they never noticed him. As the ash blonde drove he couldn’t help but feel a little stinging in his chest and butterflies in his belly. He was so excited to see you..see his daughter..his family.
The drive felt like forever and it probably was. Katsuki looked at his location on the map and it was then that he really saw how far you had moved. It hurt his heart realizing how much you really didn’t want to see him but the fact that he was going to reunite with you soon was overcoming any negative thoughts or feelings. Eventually, his friends ahead of him had arrived and of course, Katsuki followed. The blonde parked a little ways off from the house and waited. He figured that seeing him would cause some shock throughout the home. Katsuki didn’t expect you or Katsumi to be happy to see him but he didn’t care. He’s willing to go through whatever to bring you both back. So, instead of going in right away, he allowed you and Katsumi to enjoy yourselves for some time before he went in and crashed the place.
—
“Happy birthday to you~”
“Blow out the candles, sweetie!” You said while holding the cake. Katsumi smiled, took a tiny breath, and took out the small flames. You all clapped for the now 16 year old girl and you placed the cake down. Playful banter and happy talks were discussed all around as you began to cut the cake and pass around slices.
“I can’t believe our little Katsumi’s all grown up!” Kaminari sobbed into Sero’s shoulder. The slender man made a face of disgust as slobber got all over him and pushed the electric blonde off.
“We’re so happy we got to see you today, kid.” Sero said to the smiling little lady.
“I’m really glad I got to see you guys too! You really made this birthday something special. I love you guys! Especially you, Mom. Thanks for everything.” Katsumi said as she walked to you and wrapped her arms around you.
“I’d give the whole world for you Katsumi. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy. Your smile s’all I’ll need.” You said while rubbing soft circles onto her back. You released the hug as chatter grew again.
On the outside, Bakugou was pressed with his back against the door. He was lucky it was pretty late, so no one would take notice of the pro hero snooping on some “random” house. As Bakugou listened in on the party inside, he teared up at the sound of the singing. What you all didn’t know was that on the other side of the door, Bakugou was also singing and wishing his daughter a happy birthday. Although it was Katsumi’s day, Bakugou took her wish, and begged for his family back.
He stayed outside the door for awhile but the sound of his name made his ears perk. “So..how are things with Bakugou?”
—
You rolled your eyes at Mina’s question. “C’mon. Seriously? Like I’d know.” You laughed a little.
“Y/N, I’m being serious. Katsumi’s 16 now. She hasn’t seen Bakugou in 5 years. Don’t you think it’s a little tough on both of them?” Your pink friend asked. You soften your eyes a bit as you looked towards your hands
“....Of course I do, Mina. Katsumi has always been a daddy’s girl.” You said while looking towards your daughter, who was laughing with her uncles. “She loves him...and so do I. But it was her choice to not see him. ....She thinks I don’t know it, but I’m well aware of just how bad Katsuki’s absence is hurting her. She puts up a strong facade, but I’m her mother and I can see through it. She misses him but she’s too hurt by what happened.”
“But still, what about Bakugou? I know what he did was horrible-“
“Extremely.”
“Right. But he’s still my friend. He tells us everything. He’s so broken by what happened and I’m not saying you should forgive him but if Katsumi misses her dad as much as Bakugou misses the both of you, maybe she should consider seeing him again.” Mina mentioned. You couldn’t believe yourself but you honestly began to consider it.
Back with Katsuki, his eyes widened a bit. A small smiled grew on his face and tiny tears of joy filled his eyes. He made a reminder to thank Mina for her recommendation for you. If you agreed to it, he might get his Baby Bear back. ..He might get you back too. However, a sudden voice made his hopes shaky.
—
“No, she shouldn’t.”
You and Mina both looked behind you to see your daughter standing there. You both held shocked expressions as you watched her.
“..Katsumi..you don’t ever think of seeing him again?” You asked as her expression grew a mix of hurt and anger.
“No! Not after what he did to you! What he did to us.” She said. You kicked yourself as you and Mina were reminded of the lie you told your daughter. He did hurt the two of you...just not in the way that she thinks. “If he was lucky, and his reasons were good enough, then maybe, maybe I’d forgive him. And maybe I’d go back to seeing him. But he’s gone and he’s not coming back.”
—
On the other side of the door, Katsuki grew hurt by the memories of what he did. After hearing his daughter’s words, he had enough and finally worked up the courage to knock on the door.
—
“-he’s not coming back.”
*knock* *knock* *knock*
The 3 of you looked to the door and were shocked at the new guest. Nobody else was scheduled to come. Who could it be? You watched as Kirishima went to open it and took notice of his surprised face. He said a few quiet words, nodded, and then took a few steps away from the door. He looked towards you and your daughter and you felt the whole world stop as you all looked to the man in front of you who had just stepped in.
“....Hey.”
“.....Katsuki.” You said with small tears in your eyes. You looked towards your daughter to see a sad and hurt expression on her face as her jaw slightly dropped.
“...Dad.”
—
“So.....you’re back.” You said with a broken and bittersweet voice as you stepped to him. You crossed your arms as a way to hold yourself in comfort and to put on a strong front in front of Katsuki. Only problem was, he was the man you loved and who loved you. You’ve been together since you both were babies. He knows how you truly feel.
Bakugou chuckled a bit as he put his hands in his pockets and stepped towards you. “Thank you, Y/N.”
“For what?” You quickly and sternly asked.
“For keeping my secret. You think my dumbass friends wouldn’t tell me what you did?” He began before he was interrupted.
“Hey! At least these dumbasses know it ain’t cool to crash a party!” The electric dunce said as he took another bite of cake.
“Denki!” The rest of the Bakusquad (minus Bakugou) shouted. Bakugou shook his head with a small laugh before continuing.
“Thank you for protecting Katsumi from me. You never once sold me out.” He explained with sad eyes and a hurt smiled. You used your arms to console yourself as you rubbed your sides for warmth. A warmth that only Katsuki could ever help you feel.
“Yeah well...a girl should think well of her father.” You said as you stepped to the side and you both turned to face Katsumi. She held her hands together by the fingers before dropping them and walking to her dad.
“Hi Katsumi.” Katsuki said with a loving, cracked voice. You all watched as Katsumi took small breath before speaking.
“...W-Why are you here? And what do you mean Mom never sold you out? What are you guys talking about?” She asked with her teary eyes.
“..I can answer all of those questions if you talk to me. In private, I’d prefer.” Bakugou said. Katsumi shook her head no before taking a few steps back.
“I don’t want to go anywhere with you.” She said.
“Katsumi,” the said girl looked to her mother who called for her. “You should talk to him.”
“What?” The Bakusquad said.
“What?” Katsumi said.
“What?” Bakugou said.
“There’s some things that you need to know.” You turned to Bakugou as you said this part. “Some things that only you can tell her. That you should tell her. .....You both can talk on the patio.”
“Mom, I don’t want to-“
“I’m not asking, Katsumi. I’m telling you. Go talk to your father. There’s something that you should know.” You sternly said to your daughter. She only stared at you for a minute before looking towards Bakugou and walking to the patio. Bakugou looked towards you and saw you nod your head for approval to follow her. Before he left he pulled you in for a hug. As much as you wanted to hate it, you couldn’t. His scent engulfed you and his warmth finally reached you after so many years. You missed him and your mind and body were quick to give in. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he held onto you by your waist. He embraced all of you and melted into your soft touch that he so dearly missed.
“Thank you, Y/N......I love you.” He whispered into your neck only for you to hear. You nodded, but he knew you still felt the same way when you squeezed him tighter. He smiled at that, and you both finally released each other before he walked to his daughter who was waiting outside.
He opened the back door to find his daughter waiting at the outdoor table. He took a seat across from her and just smiled. She’s really here. In front of him. He finally got to see not only the love of his life but his precious little girl as well.
“...It’s so good to see you, Baby Bear....you’ve grown so much.” He softly said to her. She looked up with sad, angry eyes as she glared at him.
“....Why are you here, dad?” She said in a hurt tone. Bakugou held a shaky smile as she said that word. Dad. Granted, it was no longer daddy but it was something. He loved it either way. He needed to hear it.
“A lot of reasons. To wish my daughter a happy 16th...to apologize..and explain..to see my daughter..my family-“
“We’re not your family. You left us. You don’t leave family.” Katsumi sternly interrupted.
“Right...‘I left you guys.’ ......Baby Bear-“
“Don’t call me that.”
Ouch. That hurt Katsuki’s heart. Broke it even more than it already was. “...There’s something I have to tell you. Something your mother didn’t. Something she lied to you about..to protect me.”
“What the hell are you talking about? Mom is perfect! And amazing! She would never lie to anyone especially me!” Katsumi pointed out as she raised her voice at her father.
“She really is perfect and amazing...and I was dumb enough to lose her. Katsumi...I know your mom told you that I left you both..but in reality...She..left me.” Bakugou said. It felt like lead fell onto his body as he watched his daughter fall into confusion.
“N-No...no you’re lying!” Katsumi said as she stood up and slammed her hands on the table. Katsuki didn’t flinch as he expected this reaction. “She wouldn’t! She wouldn’t tear apart our family..she..she wouldn’t do that...to..to me.” She said as her voice progressively got softer with each word. “Quit lying and just admit that you left us! That you put me and Mom through hell!” Her voice rose once more. “Was I not enough for you to stay?! What did I do that was wrong?! I thought we were the perfect family! I thought...we were happy. Was I not a good enough reason to stay? You couldn’t even try for me? For your daughter? You didn’t even take my feelings into consideration when you left. You didn’t even think about me, Dad.”
Bakugou couldn’t believe it. Your lie was supposed to protect Katsumi, but instead it installed all these insecurities she now has. His friends had told him Katsumi was finally happy..but he guessed she hid all her thoughts..just like he would. She really was his daughter. “Katsumi...it wasn’t like that.”
“You’re lying!!!” Katsumi screamed to herself as tear drops began to fall.
“Katsumi! It’s been 11 years since your mother left me and 5 since I got to see you!” He said with a hurt voice. “Do you honestly think I would wait this long, spend years to find your new home, and come all the way out here just to lie to you?” He watched as his daughter’s face fell as she realized he wasn’t lying. He watched as her faith in her mother deteriorated. He couldn’t let that happen. “Don’t be mad at her though. Be mad at me. She had every reason to leave.”
“..What did you do?” She asked unbothered. She doesn’t care about anything anymore. She doesn’t think she could get any more hurt. Her best friend and mother lied to her about something so crucial. What could possibly make it worse? Katsuki felt his heart beat all around his body. He grew nervous and his palms grew sweatier than usual.
“...I-..Katsumi..*sigh* ...I’m so sorry, Baby Bear.” He slightly sobbed. Katsumi now grew interested. She couldn’t remember much but from what she could, she doesn’t think she ever saw her father cry. Even in the worst situations, he never broke. He always put up a strong front for the world. For her.
“Dad?...” she asked as she sat up in her chair.
“....Katsumi...your mom left me..because I cheated on her.”
There it was. The truth was finally revealed to Katsumi. Plain and simple. Her E/C eyes popped as angry tears filled them. Hurt. Betrayal. Fury. All those emotions she abandoned years ago all came rushing back through her. She began to shake as her breath grew heavy. Bakugou apologized over and over with his head down. Katsumi felt her palms grow hot as they began to spark. Out of anger, she screamed and hit her father with an explosion. The same explosions she got from him.
She watched as her father flew back a few feet and cringed in slight pain. Her blast wasn’t intended to hurt him completely but was more meant to keep him at a distance. She watched as Bakugou got up from the floor and faced her again. Her tears fell heavy as a shadow casted over her eyes. Screw the distance. She ran to him and began punching his chest with everything she had. Thanks to his training, and Katsumi’s distraught state, Katsuki felt little to no pain. He could only look down in heart break as he watched his daughter become a mess due to his actions.
“H-How could you?!” She said as she continued to hit him. “How could you do that to us?! TO MOM! TO ME!” She said and finally looked to her father, showing him her tears, cherry red rose, and puffy eyes. “DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU PUT US THROUGH?! Do you have any idea what kind of hell Mom went through?! Mom doesn’t know it but I saw her face! I saw the tear streaks in the mornings, her red, swollen eyes! I saw her sadness behind her happy cover! And not to mention what I did to her! My family broke and I became a little terror. I caused Mom hell. ALL BECAUSE OF YOU, DAD! YOU WANNA KNOW WHAT I WENT THROUGH?! I had to leave my home! I had to move away from my friends! My family! I HAD TO LOSE MY FAMILY! I HAD TO LOSE YOU!!”
Inside the house, the group of friends could hear everything. All the yelling, the shouting. The anger and pain. Y/N had rivers flowing down her face as she covered her sobs with her hand. Her friends settled around her and comforted her through this horrible time. Outside, Bakugou’s face went into a slight shock at his daughter’s last sentence. “W-What?”
“I had to lose you, Dad! You think I don’t remember? You were my best friend. My idol and hero. To me, it never got better than you. ...But you did this? You betrayed Mom. You betrayed me. I love you, Dad, I still do...but I guess you never loved me or Mom.” Katsumi said as she looked down again.
“Katsumi that’s not true. I love both of you with my entire being-“
“So then why’d you do it?” His daughter asked with her voice, laced with pain.
“I was drunk and made a stupid mistake. It’s a day I completely regret because it was the day I tore apart my family and lost everything.” Bakugou said.
“Tch, you didn’t lose anything at all! You still have the house, the money, the fame, the fans. You’re still a pro, you still have everything!” Katsumi shouted.
“I don’t have you or your mother.” Silence grew at the beginning of his confession. “Like I said, you both are my entire being. Yes, I love my job and I’m grateful for everything I’ve earned and accomplished but I’d give it all up in a heartbeat if it meant I’d get to bring you and your mother back home to me. I don’t care about anything else other than the two of you. You haven’t seen me in the past 5 years and in the last 11 years when you did see me when you came over, you never saw my broken side. You never saw how distraught I was. You never saw the hell I went through because I don’t have the two of you, at home, with me.”
Bakugou stepped to his daughter and wrapped his arms around her to hold her. She allowed him to do so and began to silently cry in his chest. She refused to hold him back as her head was still in a cloud of confusion. Does she forgive him? Go back to seeing him? Try to bring her family back together? What to do, what to do.
“I’m sorry for everything I put you through Katsumi. Both you and your mother. I ruined our family and it’s something I’ve regretted for over a decade. But I won’t let you both go. I will do everything in my power to bring our family back together so we can be happy again. And I’m starting here, by telling you the truth.” Bakugou explained. Silence grew once more and Katsumi had finally made her decision.
“Well I suggest you stop trying..’cuz you’re never bringing us back.” Katsumi said as she pushed her father off of her and narrowed her eyes at him. Bakugou stared at his daughter with wide eyes.
“What?” He asked with an exasperated voice.
“You committed the ultimate betrayal. You broke Mom’s heart, betrayed me and her, and broke this family apart. You ruined us. We’ve finally picked ourselves back up and I don’t think we should let the guy who wrecked our world come back into it. ...I’m glad you came and told me the truth..thank you for that..hope you get home safe.” Bakugou was hurt but he understood where she was coming from. He watched as his daughter began to walk away but he wanted to keep her around as long as he could. He knew this probably would be the last time he would get to see her for awhile.
“I’m sorry!” He said with a sob. He watched Katsumi flinch to his sudden booming voice and turn to him. Bakugou looked at his daughter with teary eyes. “You..you turned out great. You’re the best daughter I could ever ask for. Your Mother did a great job at raising you...I just wish I could say the same.”
As Katsumi took in his words, she could feel a heavy weight fly off of her chest. “.....Woah.”
“What?” Bakugou asked.
“...F-For so long, I’ve been mad at the world. For a period of time, I was mad at mom. But for the past 11 years, I always thought I wasn’t good enough. I thought I was a problem..and I was so broken and mad,” Katsumi looked up to her father with tears at the ends of her eyes and a tiny smile. “I-...I’m not mad anymore...thanks to you.”
Katsumi ran back to her dad and wrapped her arms around him. Bakugou was shocked but felt the tears build up again. He wrapped his arms around her and held his daughter tight for as long as she would allow. Time passed and it was clear the both of them were trying to hold onto this father-daughter moment for as long as they could, but Katsumi knew it was time to let go. Before releasing her hold on her father, she allowed herself to say her farewells.
“Goodbye Daddy....I love you.” Was all she said before pulling away from her dad and walking back into the house. Bakugou watched her go and dropped his head as he allowed himself to cry in peace.
When Katsumi entered the house, she was quick to break down again and sob. She ran to her mother who immediately wrapped her arms around her sad daughter. They both held onto each other as Katsumi said her apologies.
“I’m so sorry Mom! There was a time where I blamed you and none of this was your fault. I’m so sorry!” She sobbed and you pulled her back so you could face her.
“It’s okay, Katsumi, it’s okay,” you whispered. “Don’t apologize for anything. None of this was your fault, okay?” Katsumi only nodded as you pulled her in for another hug. The Bakusquad offered to take her back up to her room so she could settle down and you nodded as you allowed your daughter to head to the comfort of her room. The Bakusquad went to help her cheer up and they of course brought the comedic genius, Kaminari, with them.
“Nothing brings more joy in sad times than a goofy uncle!” Kaminari said as the 4 of them walked up the stairs.
“I could name so many more things, Denki. Trust me.” Mina said as she walked along side him. You chuckled at their conversation as they walked up the stairs but soon, your attention was directed to the opening back door. Katsuki walked in with a sad expression but gave a happy glance once he saw you. He walked towards you and you gave him a sad smile.
“So...I guess now she knows.” You said to break the silence.
“Um...yeah..she knows.” Bakugou said as he looked towards the ground. “......Y/N..I’m so sorry,” he said looking back at you. “If I could go back in time and stop myself I would. Because then I would still have my family. My daughter....you. I’d still have you and Katsumi and we’d still be in the same house with another kid a few years younger than Katsumi and then maybe we’d have another on accident because everyone knows I can’t keep my hands to myself when it comes to you,” he joked sadly. You laughed at his fantasy and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have similar thoughts.
“Yeah..just...maybe if things were different.” You said with your sad smile. Bakugou slowly went in to grab your hand and you allowed him as he moved in closer to you.
“I’m sorry, Teddy Bear-“
“Stop saying ‘sorry’ Katsuki,” you said as you threw your head back with your small smile still plastered on. You faced him again before speaking. “I know you’re sorry. But..there’s nothing that’s gonna change with it. Maybe it’s time for you to move on. Time for both of us to move on.”
Bakugou shook his head at the idea. “No. I know myself. I know I’ll never be able to let you both go. I’ll never be able to move on, even if I wanted to. But I am able to respect your wishes. If Katsumi doesn’t want to see me anymore....then I’ll give her what she wants.”
“I’m sorry, Katsuki.” You said in regards to your daughter.
“S’not your fault Teddy Bear. It’s mine, obviously. Just what happens when you’re an idiot.” He said, degrading himself. You giggled at his comment and went in to wrap your arms around his neck.
“Yeah..but you’re always gonna be my idiot.” You said into his neck. Bakugou held you tight and took in your intoxicating scent. He took the time to memorize the warmth you had, the way you smelt, the way you felt. How amazing it was to hold you in his arms. He drilled it all into his mind so he would never forget.
“I’m glad. ....I love you Y/N.” He said into your soft hair.
“......I love you too Katsuki.” You replied back with all the love you could give. You both pulled away to face each other but felt something immediately draw you back in. You pressed against each other closer than before as your lips slowly came in contact.
This was something Bakugou also drilled in. The way you tasted. Your sweet strawberry lips were something he would never forget. Something he could never resist. The kiss slowly grew more passionate and intense as Bakugou bit down on your bottom lip, releasing a very quiet moan from you. Quickly, he slipped his tongue in and you allowed it as you succumbed to him. The kiss was strong and Bakugou began to push you against a wall but when his hands traveled to the hill of your ass, gave it a squeeze, and you released another moan, you decided it was enough.
You pushed on Bakugou’s chest and kept him back a bit. He looked down at you in confusion but when he saw your small smile and little head shake he understood. He smiled down at you with sad eyes as he nodded. His hands returned to your waist and pulled you in for a final hug that you happily returned. He pulled away but not before giving you a sweet peck on your forehead. He finally stepped away from you and walked to the door. You followed him as you escorted him to the exit and with his hand on the knob, he opened it as he looked at you with the same sad smile that mirrored your own.
“Bye Y/N.” He said on the other side of the entrance.
“Bye Katsuki.” You said with your hand on the door. While he pulled on the knob, you lightly shut the door.
You both placed your backs on your own sides of the door and released a breath you both didn’t know you were holding. A heavy feeling finally hopped off your chests as you both looked up. You both knew that you weren’t letting each other go. That’d be impossible and you knew it. It was more of you both accepting the new reality. You loved each other, wholeheartedly and entirely, but this would have to be the end of your story together.
You’re not letting go...this is just goodbye.
#bakugo x reader#bakugou fanfiction#bakugou katsuki#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou imagine#bakugou x y/n#bnha#bnha bakugo katsuki#mha#bakugou fluff#bakugou smut#katsuki bakugou smut#bakugou katsuki smut#katsuki smut#katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugou angst#katsuki bakugou#bakugo angst#bakugou angst#bakugou katsuki angst#katsuki angst#mha bakugo x reader#mha bakugo katsuki#mha bakugou#bnha bakugou#my hero academia bakugou#my hero academia#bnha bakugo x reader
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Mine
Summary: Y/N has always wished to meet her soulmate and have the ability to see colours. When it happened, she wasn’t expecting it to be HYDRA’s famous assassin and boy, she was in real trouble now Pairing: The Winter Soldier!Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 2.2K Warnings: Violence, The Winter Soldier acting possessive A/N: Originally, I didn’t fully like how this went but here it is! Inspired by a tiktok I saw and I was like ‘Let’s show The Winter Soldier some love’. I also don’t think anyone has done this before so here it is! Edited and checked by @thebestdecoder . Please comment on how it is! Thank you for reading :D
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In the world Y/N lives in, soulmates exist. As lovely and fairytale-like it sounds, there is a catch. Until you meet your soulmate, everyone sees black and white. Y/N was a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, one well trusted by Fury. She wished every day that she might run into her soulmate on the streets or that someone she knew was her other half. For years, nothing. Still black and white. Y/N was on the verge of giving up but Steve and Natasha were constantly with her, reminding her that her other half will come. Little did Y/N know that that time would be sooner than later.
Right now, S.H.I.E.L.D. was compromised by HYDRA. Steve and Natasha were hunting down one of HYDRA’s agents for information with the help of Sam and Y/N.
The highway was filled with cars, Sam driving towards a safe house far away from HYDRA’s eyes. “HYDRA doesn’t like leaks,” Sitwell stated obviously.
“Then why don’t you try sticking a cork in it?” Sam commented. Natasha peered over Steve’s shoulder. “Insight’s launching in 16 hours. We’re cutting it a little bit close here,” “I know. We’ll use him to bypass the DNA scans and access the helicarriers directly,” Steve planned. Y/N’s eyes widen. “Are you crazy? That’s suicidal! There’s no way we’ll survive. It’s us against HYDRA’s army,” Sitwell leaned forward. “Exact-,” A loud thud dented the roof of the car slightly, The team looked up, only for Sitwell to be dragged out by a metal arm and thrown onto the oncoming side of the freeway. “Shit!” Y/N cursed. Natasha immediately moved onto Steve’s lap, pulling his head down. Y/N stayed low as gunshots pierced the car’s roof. “Who the hell is on the roof?!” Y/N screamed in fear. “If I knew the answer to that, I would tell,” Steve grabbed the gearshift and pulled it back, causing the car to screech to a halt.
The heavy figure was thrown forward by the sudden stop, rolling on the tar, and skidded to a halt with his metal arm. Y/N gasped, eyes widening at the menacing man. Perhaps it was much scarier to witness all this through a black and white perspective. It made Y/N’s heart race and mind question her decision of following the team on this mission.
(gif credits to the owner)
The Winter Soldier stood up, covered eyes looking in the team’s direction and Y/N could have sworn she felt eyes on her specifically. Could it be..No! Definitely not. That would be insane.
Y/N snapped out of her thoughts when she was lunged forward by a sudden impact behind. An armored truck had slammed against the boot of the car and pushed the vehicle forward towards the direction of The Winter Soldier. Sam struggled to control the car as the vehicle got closer to the assassin. The assassin jumped on the car, punching through the windshield, and effortlessly pulled the steering out. “Shit!” Sam cursed. Natasha grabbed the gun off the floor and shot the roof. The Soldier jumped to the armoured truck.
With no steering, the car was practically driving towards its doom. The truck slammed into the back of the vehicle again, causing the car to drive towards the partition beam. Steve grabbed Sam and Sam grabbed Y/N. “Hang on!” Steve slammed the door with his shield, narrowly escaping the flipping car as they skidded on the road. Y/N received the most impact, knocked out cold the second her head slammed onto the tar. “Y/N!” Steve screamed and that was the last thing Y/N heard before blacking out.
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Y/N felt hands on her. “Y/N! Y/N wake up!” The voice was merely an echo or at least it sounded like one. Slowly, Y/N came to be. A soft moan escaped her lips, moving a hand to the side of her head. “Sam..? What happened?” Sam sighed in relief. “All sorts of shit is happening, Y/N. Right now, Steve and Natasha need our help. Can you fight?” He helped Y/N up, the woman nodded. She shook her head slightly, forcing the blur from the vision, and looked around. Gunshots were fired below the freeway and Y/N gasped. “Sam, you cover us from above. I’ll get down there,” Y/N rappelled down, pulling her knife out. She moved quietly, using the stranded vehicles for cover, and got closer to The Soldier.
The Soldier’s eyes scanned the area for Natasha, hands gripping his assault rifle. In the distance, he heard a call for help and proceeded to investigate. Y/N followed from behind quietly, watching his movements. An explosion nearby caused Y/N to flinch a little but she was quick to recover. “Hey!” She called out. Y/N jumped on the car, running over to The Soldier, and slammed a foot to his rifle. She grabbed him, wrapping her legs around his neck, and got his neck in a chokehold. Y/N was winning, forcing her arm to dig deeper into his neck. However, she was so very wrong. The Soldier stepped back, slamming Y/N against a car. This caused her to loosen her grip, just enough for The Soldier to grab Y/N off his back and throw her to another vehicle. The air was knocked out of Y/N upon impact. Her back was hurting and she was gasping for air. The Soldier picked up his gun, aiming to Y/N when a disc etched to his metal arm, and electrocuted The Soldier. He grunted, taken aback by the attack. “Y/N!” Natasha called out, grabbing Y/N off the car and led her away from the Soldier, who had broken free from the disabling attack. The Soldier flexed his metal arm, swinging it over to ensure it was still functioning.
Y/N and Natasha ran away from The Soldier, urging the crowd to get to safety. A single gunshot rang out and Natasha yelped in pain. “Nat!” Y/N gasped, holding onto Natasha and leaned her against the side of the car. Y/N struggled to see the blood. Fuck! Why did everything have to be black and white? “Put pressure on that,” Y/N instructed quickly before peeking out from the side of the car. Her eyes widened in horror, The Winter Soldier had his gun trained on her. “No!” Y/N screamed, covering her eyes to await the impact. But it didn’t come at all. When Y/N’s eyes fluttered open once more, The Winter Soldier was going head to head with Captain America in a tough fight.
“Nat? Nat? Come on, we have to get you away from here,” Y/N carefully picked Nat up, heaving her arm over her shoulder and led the injured assassin away from the fight. Y/N kept on glancing at the duo and could see that Steve was struggling to slow the assassin down. ‘Shit! I have to do something’ Y/N thought, setting Natasha down by a truck. “I’ve got to help Steve. Stay put, alright?” Nat let out a shaky breath, nodding. She grabbed Y/N’s wrist before the agent could leave. “Be careful, Y/N,” The agent nodded, running towards the two.
“Steve!” Y/N called out. The Winter Soldier had Steve pinned against a van, a knife dragging over so quickly by the blonde’s head. “Get away from him!” Y/N grabbed The Soldier, forcing the assassin’s attention on her.
The Soldier did not hold back, Y/N narrowly dodging his punches. Each punch she landed on him seemed like it didn’t do anything and that scared the woman a lot. The Soldier pinned Y/N to the floor, his metal arm raised and about to lay the final blow when Steve pulled him off the woman. Y/N let out a shuddered sigh, standing up and watched as Steve ripped the mask off The Winter Soldier’s face.
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The Soldier caught himself, cool air pierced his now exposed face. As he turned to face his enemy, colors burst from his vision. He...He was finally seeing colors? His piercing blue eyes landed on Steve and Y/N, specifically, Y/N.
Y/N’s jaw slacked as her own vision burst with colors. She gasped, a hand on Steve’s arm for support as overwhelming emotions took over her. ‘N-No...It can’t be!’ Y/N’s mind screamed. She parted her lips, a question on the tipping end of her tongue when Steve cut her off. “Bucky?”
The Soldier’s eyes moved on from Y/N’s shaking figure to Steve.
“Who the hell is Bucky?” The Soldier stepped forward, moving in Y/N’s direction. Right now, he didn’t care about Steve or the situation. He cared about his soulmate. There was a light pull The Soldier felt and Y/N felt it too. Her eyes never left the assassin, taking a small step towards him.
“Soulmate,” The Soldier called out darkly. Steve’s eyes widened, looking down at Y/N who looked like she was ready to run into the arms of his seemingly dead-now-alive best friend. “Y/N, no!” Steve grabbed Y/N, pulling her back.
A grenade whizzed past Steve’s form, blowing up between both parties. Y/N was pushed away from the impact, coughing heavily as the smoke entered her lungs. The Soldier had a new task: to get to his soulmate. “Soulmate!” The Soldier called out, walking through the smoke and fire like it didn’t affect him at all. Y/N gasped, The Soldier turned his head to the sound of the gasp. “There you are,” Y/N’s eyes widen, moving away from The Soldier. “Hey!” Sam yelled, slamming his foot against the assassin’s towering form. His body flew but he caught himself easily. Sam made another flyby. Thank god for Sam! Y/N scrambled to her feet, running from the situation. “Soulmate!” The Soldier screamed out, anger and something else laced his tone. He sprinted in her direction but was stopped by Steve and Sam, leading another fight to break out.
The Winter Soldier was motivated and when he was motivated, nothing could stop him from getting what he wants.
Y/N had light tears in her eyes, spotting Natasha in the distance and ran to her. “Nat, Nat, this can’t be happening!” Y/N panted, tears threatening to spill. Natasha held Y/N’s shoulder with her good hand, forcing the woman to look at her. “What happened? Y/N, calm down and tell me what happened,” The redhead urged, guiding the hysterical woman to sit down.
“He...He’s my soulmate! Nat, the enemy! I-I heard Steve say his name. Bucky...He’s my soulmate!” Natasha was taken aback by Y/N’s words. Their enemy was her soulmate? Y/N sobbed, Natasha wrapped an arm around her head and hugged her. “It’s okay. Hey, trust me, it’s going to be okay,” Natasha comforted softly.
After years of trying to find her soulmate, Y/N had found hers. But at what cost? Him being the enemy. Despite that fact, Y/N was glad she could see colors now. Everything was so vibrant and so beautiful. It never occurred to Y/N how bright and lively the world was. She felt happiness as she studied her colored surroundings, seemingly forgetting about the situation.
Until a loud scream pierced the air.
Y/N gasped, snapping out of her temporary trance and looked over the hood of the car. Sam was on the floor, unconscious and Steve was on his knees in a chokehold. “Y/N! Run! RUN!” Steve strained out, struggling to break free out of The Soldier’s strong hold.
Y/N watched in horror as Steve passed out by Sam. The Soldier stood slowly, raising his head to face the woman.
“Mine,” The Soldier stalked slowly towards the woman, like a wolf ready to strike its prey. Natasha grabbed Y/N’s hand.
“Get out of here! I’ll try to stop him!” Natasha stood, running to The Soldier in an attempt to try and slow him down but her efforts were futile as The Soldier simply knocked her out like she was nothing.”Nat!” Y/N screamed, backing away as The Soldier had his eyes on the woman immediately. “No..No!” Y/N took off and ran, sirens in the distance were fast approaching.
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Y/N felt like she had been running forever, finally slowing down when she turned to an alley. She panted hard, a hand on her chest as she did her best to calm her racing heart down. A tall figure quietly approached Y/N, a cool hand covered her mouth. The Soldier leaned in, breath hot as he spoke. “I found you,” Y/N screamed, struggling against The Soldier’s grip on her even though, clearly, it was useless to do so. “You’re my soulmate, princess and you’re not getting away that easily from me,” The Soldier growled, landing a blow on the side of her head.
The last thing Y/N knew before the darkness swallowed her was hearing his voice.
“Mine.”
#bucky barnes x reader#sebastian stan#fatws bucky#bucky fic#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x y/n#bucky barns x y/n#bucky barns x you#bucky barns fanfiction#bucky barns imagine
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Spy Games [Chapter 1] : More Than It Seems
Characters: Twice Momo, Male Reader
4579 words
Authors Note: This is literally the first fiction writing I have done since I was a little kid writing stories about a town full of hamburgers. I was inspired to try my hand at writing by the plethora of amazing kpop smut writers out there right now, but by @lockefanfic, @nsfwtwicecatcher, @nsfwflint, and @ggidolsmuts in particular. If there are any similarities between my writing and theirs, please forgive me as I’ve spent more hours than I’d care to admit “researching” their work.
One thing that amazes me is how the hell everyone cranks out thousands of words with such frequency, as this post isn’t even 5k and it took forever to write. I can’t begin to explain how much respect I have for all the authors out there who can write so much and maintain such high levels of quality.
As a new writer, I welcome any and all feedback! Feel free to drop me a line if you have any critiques, or if you just want to chat!
***
“Coming up on the target now.”
“Roger that, remember the office is on the top floor. Let us know when you’re inside. And remember, no elevators...” teases your handler, Choa.
“Thanks for the reminder,” you reply sarcastically.
You survey the skyscraper against the night sky--it would be impressive if it weren’t one of a hundred just like it downtown Seoul--and wonder what you had done to deserve getting the short end of the stick. Of course, you knew there was a reason to avoid the elevators: they sat directly in front of the building’s concierge and the cameras in the lobby, while the stairwell lay in a remote part of the first floor. The logic behind your impending hike didn’t make the reality any less abhorrent.
“Meanwhile, Seolhyun gets to infiltrate an organization in the Caymans. Just my fucking luck.” you grumble to yourself.
“Oh, stop whining, you big baby,” says Choa, reminding you to keep your thoughts to yourself.
You sneak past the lobby and towards the back of the floor you find the entrance to the stairwell in a poorly lit area.
“Beginning my climb.” you report, shaking out your legs as you prepare to go up.
“Sir, I-I’m getting some interference over comms,” chimes in the timid voice of the girl you knew to be your newest team member, Yoo Jeongyeon. “It could just be local chatter, but I want to make sure it’s not someone trying to listen in.”
“Probably nothing to worry about, but we’ll let you know if there’s anything you need to worry about.” Choa assures you.
As you climb up the stairs, you wonder why anyone would want to listen in on this particular mission. This was a run-of-the-mill operation to investigate money laundering at an accounting firm. You’d infiltrated foreign governments, broken into and bugged the offices of billionaire CEOs, and tailed enemy agents. You could understand people wanting to hear those comms, but this? Either someone wanted something to listen to as a sleep aid, or this mission was more interesting than it looked.
A tip had come in through one of the new girls at the Intel Desk reporting that there was some fishy activity related to organized crime going on at the accounting firm. This was routine and you’d gone on dozens of similar recon missions before: break in, find suspicious intel, get out. But if someone wanted so badly to hear what was going on, the new girl may have stumbled onto something worthy of a promotion. Hayoung, you think her name was. Her chestnut, shoulder-length hair along with her well-endowed physique reminded you of a young mother, but her mature beauty belied her young age. You had caught yourself more than a few times fantasizing about her in your off hours…
You stop mid-way in the stairwell, scolding yourself for losing focus. Too often over the course of the last year you found yourself fantasizing about the women in your life. Sure, before the incident with Eunha you had sexual thoughts about your coworkers--you were surrounded by beautiful women, after all. But recently you noticed that your life was increasingly preoccupied with sex: both in your thoughts and the real-life exploits you carried out.
Much longer than a few minutes later, you reach the 63rd floor out of breath and sweating, wishing more than ever that it was you and not Seolhyun lounging on the beach. You take a moment to compose yourself before peeking out into the office floor to see if the coast is clear.
“We may have a problem, boss. Jeongyeon looked into the comms disturbance and someone much more sophisticated than the average joe is definitely trying to tap in,” Choa says. “Jeongyeon’s kicking their ass right now blocking their access, but there’s only so much she can do alone. Eventually we’re going to lose control of this channel.”
“Dammit. I knew something was off with this op,” you grumble. “If they want to listen in to whatever I find, it must be important. We’ll go dark. Recon says this should be a quick in and out anyways. I’ll tag you once I’m out.”
“Be careful. Signal us if anything goes wrong. Just don’t do anything stupid.” replies Choa.
“What do you think they pay me all this money for?” you tease, wanting to put her nerves at ease. “See you on the other side. Over and out.”
You could hear the concern in her voice. Even though keeping you safe was part of her job, you knew she cared about you. You also knew as well as she did that anything could go wrong even in the five minutes it would take you to break in, especially when it appeared that someone knew exactly what you were doing.
You switch off your comms link and head out the door and into the office.
It looked exactly as you expected--rows and rows of non-descript cubicles, with a princely office lined with glass walls occupying the far corner. Jeongyeon had retrieved the floor plan by hacking into the building’s security database earlier in the week, and you knew after her effort tonight in detecting and fending off the comms interference that Choa would want you to acknowledge the work the new girl had been putting in. She certainly was more skilled than the five previous team members you’d fired after Eunha, but you found it difficult to bring yourself to praise her. The Ops Officer position she occupied was a sore point for you, after all.
You deftly pick the lock on the corner office door and immediately sit down in front of the terminal on the desk, logging in with the security bypass Jeongyeon drew up.
Again your thoughts drift to Eunha. Eunha was your longtime Ops Officer--highly skilled, you trusted her more than anyone. It also helped that she was your fiance. It made you sad to think about her; about what could have been, what should have been. Over the past year, you were constantly reminded of her absence by the utter incompetence of her replacements. You suppose it was nice that at the very least, Jeongyeon didn’t give you many opportunities to bemoan her performance in the same way--to remind you of Eunha.
You shake your head, compelling yourself to rise out of your funk and get on with the mission.
As you scroll through files, you stop on one with a familiar signature. Reading its contents, your eyes open wider--suddenly you understand why someone would be interested to listen in to your communications. You quickly save the file to your flash drive and stand up to leave, only to be startled by a figure in the doorway.
“Care to tell me what’s on that?” comes a familiar voice from the darkness that you knew to be Hirai Momo’s. Momo was an agent for a foreign espionage agency--you had as friendly a rivalry as you could have when working for different governments.
“What was the point of trying to hack our comms if you were just going to show up and ask me that?”
“I had no intention of coming until you decided to ghost your girlfriends,” teases Momo. “Besides, I like showing you how much better I am at sneaking around.”
Momo flicks on the light and she comes into focus. The Japanese government made a good decision when they hired her, you think. She was built for the job of a seductive spy. Her perfectly toned legs had a lovely sheen all the way up to her short skirt, while her cleavage suggested that her tits were ready to burst out of her tight, patterned blouse. Where most of your attention was drawn, however, was her lustrous blue hair, which fell to her shoulders.
“I may actually need your help with this, once you see what’s on it,” you say, nodding your head at the flash drive.
“Oh, so you’re willing to give it to me? I thought I was going to have to fuck you for it,” she says sarcastically. You knew behind the humor was more than a nugget of truth, though. Sex had been the primary vehicle for information trading with Momo over the years. You decide to test your reading of the situation.
“Just because I need your help doesn’t mean I’m giving it for free…”
Momo brings her thumb to her mouth and bites gently as she ponders your not-so-subtle proposition. She takes her turn to look you up and down, making you feel more than a little self conscious in her gaze of judgment. After so many years in the dangerous world of espionage, there were only a handful women who could make you feel so small. Then again, Momo was no regular girl.
Once she’s satisfied she has properly appraised your worth, Momo lets go of her thumb and straightens her blouse.
“Fine,” she says matter-of-factly, “let’s get to it,” unbuttoning her blouse as she walks towards you.
You are surprised by the lack of fight she put up, but you thought it best to keep that to yourself. Her tone reminds you of a business meeting--that is, if you hadn’t seen her pull her top off as she approached you. She sits in your lap on the chair, wrapping her arms around your neck as you meet her lips for a kiss. Momo’s mouth was familiar to you, introduced to you many times throughout your career. It seemed like every time you ran across her you had sex. One thing you adored about your relationship with her was that it was absolutely without strings attached. You fucked for work, but just because it was part of the job didn’t mean you both didn’t enjoy it.
Momo, however, was loath to admit the pleasure she got out of her liaisons with you. Call it pride, call it being professional, whatever--Momo refused to act like sex with you was anything other than work, no different than working in a spreadsheet.
You feel her reach down to your pants, quickly unbuttoning them as she sinks to her knees in front of you. You smirk--her eagerness to please you betrayed her air of ambivalence.
Momo wastes no time getting down to business. You are certain the Japanese trained her very well in tender foreplay, but it seems she doesn’t care much for subtlety at the moment. Instead, she utilizes a more direct method to extract your pleasure--one that must have required its own fair share of training--as she spits on your cock before immediately forcing it as deeply in her mouth as she can take it. One, two, three bobs is all it takes for her to reach the base of your cock, her nose buried in your pelvis.
“Fuuuck me, that’s good,” you groan as you hold her head in place for several seconds, and Momo replies in turn with a cough that spits a healthy serving of saliva on to your cock. You release your grip on the back of her head to give her a chance to breathe, but she surprises you when she simply continues to work her mouth on your increasingly saliva-drenched cock, swirling her tongue around your base. Most of the other women you had slept with in recent months would be gasping for air by now, but Momo’s demeanor was cool, calm, and collected. Almost as if she was reading your mind, Momo paused her slurping and pulled her mouth off your shaft--but not forgetting to continue stroking it with achingly deft corkscrew motions.
“What’s the matter? Girls in your department not able to take care of your cock like a real woman?” Momo clicks her tongue and grins. “I’ve told you for years, you’d never be treated so poorly if you came to work for a professional outfit like ours.”
“Shut up and suck my cock.”
Momo shrugs, and gets back to the task at hand. Slobbering even more as she takes you into your mouth again, you pause to thank your lucky stars that you had a job that paid you in part to fuck women like Momo. You gaze upon her face, which has become just as messy as your cock. Momo’s sloppy blowjob has not only left liberal amounts of spit on your cock, but on her face as well--with strands of her blue hair plastered to her cheeks. Even though you thought it impossible, you feel your cock get harder at the sight of Momo’s messy face.
For several minutes, Momo continues inhaling your cock as you find yourself nearing the point of no return, you yank Momo’s head off your throbbing cock in order to prolong your session. A bit too forcefully, it seems, as Momo falls over onto her side.
“What the fuck!” yelps Momo as she picks herself back up, glaring at you. “I suck your cock and you thank me by throwing me on the ground?
“I didn’t mean to, I’m just not ready to cum yet. We both know you would’ve ignored me if I had asked you to stop.”
“I guess you’re right about that,” Momo replies sheepishly. You knew from previous run-ins with her that she loved nothing more than swallowing cum. Even though you had just denied her that favor, you were already thinking about how to make it up to her in a few minutes.
“How about I repay your kindness? Get up on the table and let me eat you.”
“Let’s skip the pleasantries. I’ll get up on the table, but you’re going to fuck me.”
“Someone’s eager to see what’s in this thumb drive,” you tease, inadvertently reminding yourself that this was a transactional liaison. You suspected that Momo’s interest in you extended beyond her desire for the information at hand, and part of you yearned to take her outside of the confines of work. You’re skeptical such a day would ever come, however, given how ambitious Momo was.
You knew her story--she applied for a job in the Japanese spy agency several years ago, making it all the way through the process before being cut at the very end. She ended up receiving an offer shortly after one of the other finalists died in a ‘training accident’, but Momo lived with a chip on her shoulder ever since. She lived and worked with a pathological drive to prove the agency wrong in their original decision to cut her. Already the youngest lead operative in her country’s history, she had an eye on the directorship and seemed destined for it. So, you supposed, it was nice to be able to fuck her before she became famous.
Momo hops on up on the desk, hiking up her skirt to reveal a delicious-looking blue thong that matches her hair. She looks behind towards you with lust heavy in her eyes as she pulls her thong to the side, revealing her glistening pussy--already dripping, you noted.
“I don’t have all night.”
More than happy to oblige, you line your painfully throbbing cock up with her pussy and you can feel the warmth radiating from it. You take a second to appreciate Momo’s incredible physique as your hands graze downward from her upper back, to her hips, and finally to her ass. As you rub it, you cannot help but appreciate how sublimely taut it is.
“Jeeze, you act like this is the first time you’ve seen a woman naked,” Momo jabs, interrupting your reverie.
You are starting to get annoyed with Momo’s demeanor. It was nothing new, really--she always carried an air of superiority--but it nonetheless grates on your nerves to see her be so dismissive. You are mature enough to understand that at least a part of this aggravation had to do with the fact that you knew Momo slept with plenty of men for work. Not so mature, however, to be able to stifle the primal urge deep inside of you that wanted Momo to see you as the best of all her lovers. More than ever, it seemed that sexual vanity mattered a great deal to your self-confidence.
With a renewed sense of purpose and your cock in hand, you enter Momo slowly with a long stroke until you fill her to the hilt. In unison with your initial insertion, Momo lets out a whine that crescendos as you bottom out.
As you begin to thrust in and out Momo settles in and widens her stance ever so little, which has the added benefit of allowing you to go even deeper into her warm, wet pussy. Momo was not a girl of surprises. Her face was gorgeous, capable of angelic beauty and fiery lust. Her body reflected the many hours she spent in the gym with ample breasts, insanely tight abs, and a toned ass to match. Her pussy feels exactly as sublime as her beautiful face and incredible body suggested. The perfect combination for a woman who used her body to seduce and take advantage of brainless men. You decide to push out your mind the realization that at this very moment, you are in fact one of those men.
You wanted to make sure Momo felt each and every drive into her hot flesh. Momo continued to moan quietly, each breath punctuated with a new thrust and the sound of your skin meeting hers.
“Looks like someone’s gotten real quiet all of a sudden,” you say, noticing her haughty attitude had subsided as pleasure took you both over.
“Oh, get over yourself,” Momo says, looking back at you with rekindled determination in her eyes, “you’re no better than half the guys I’ve been with. I’m here for the file, not for whatever you call this.” She cooly turns her head to face front again, leaving you seething.
Your twinge of annoyance was now a bubbling boil.
You slow down before withdrawing your cock from her warmth--Momo lets out the faintest whine of disappointment, betraying her dissatisfied front.
Just as Momo turns her head again to complain, you quickly slam your cock deep inside her. Momo yelps, and you notice her eyes bulge as you move your hips in a circular motion with your cock filled to the hilt, scraping deep inside her pussy. After several seconds of this you grab a makeshift ponytail out of her hair and yank backwards, causing her to gasp and arch her back instinctively. As much as she bothered you with her air of indifference, you had to admit that the image in front of you was the stuff of dreams.
Taking advantage of the highly erotic sight before you and the increased leverage offered by your grasp of her hair, you began to truly fuck her with quick and powerful strokes.
“Take it, Momo,” you grunted, beads of sweat beginning to form on your forehead.
Momo said nothing, emitting only breathless gasps from her open mouth. You noticed that their intensity was gradually increasing, so you increased the speed of your shaft penetrating her young, sinful body. You knew she was enjoying this, but you wouldn’t be satisfied until you broke her facade. You wanted her to lose herself to you.
You speed up even more, and the volume of your skin slapping together increases as her pussy drips wetter and wetter, mixing with your leaking precum. You are slamming your cock into her now, and Momo has to grab on to the table to steady herself. Slowly but surely her pretense was crumbling.
“You want it, don’t you Momo? You want more?”
“Fuck yeah,” Momo gasps hoarsely, struggling to speak with her hair being pulled, “Give it to me...o-oh...fuck, give it to me!”
Satisfied that she had succumbed to her pleasure, you relax your grip on her hair slightly and lean over to growl in her ear.
“I’ll give it to you. I’m gonna make sure you remember this, make sure every time you’re with another man you wish it was me.”
Momo acknowledges your promise with a deep groan, giving you great pleasure as you resumed fucking her gorgeous body.
Your eyes drift downward to her glorious ass, now shining with sweat and jiggling violently with each crash of your cock inside her. Inspired by the sight, you release her hair and put one hand on her hip and begin striking her ass with your other. Momo shrieks in surprise, but quickly looks back at you with lidded eyes while biting her lip to tell you she wanted more.
Again you oblige, and it was quickly becoming clear that lust and pleasure were staging a coup of Momo’s senses. She’s making lots of noise, but nothing intelligible. Nothing but guttural moans interspersed with high-pitched squeals. You continue spanking her ass, alternating cheeks--noticing a deep pink beginning to form on both. She’d most likely be dealing with soreness for several days after this, you think.
“You wanna cum, Momo? Cum for me, I know you want to.”
“Mmmmm...Ah, ah, AH! Unggghh,” comes Momo’s response.
“Come on Momo, fucking cum baby...cum all over this cock,” you shout, sincerely hoping there was no one working in an adjacent floor to hear.
“FUUUUCK!” Momo screams eloquently, suddenly dropping her head as her body begins convulsing. You knew what to expect having slept with her before, but you are nonetheless surprised to see how completely overtaken her body was by pleasure. Her upper body jerks spastically as her legs tremble with your cock plunged deep inside her pussy, all the while letting out a high-pitched whine that turns into a soft whimper. Just a few minutes before she was defiant and happy to throw insults at you...now she was a mewling, writhing mess incapable of speaking. The dark, primal part of you is satisfied by her tacit recognition of your talent.
After a short while, Momo begins to compose herself and lifts her upper body from the table. You take it as a sign to slowly resume taking your cock in and out of her. You decide to give her now glowing pink ass a rest and caress her back, tracing long lines with your nails.
“Mmmmm, that feels good,” Momo says, her eyes still closed, “you fuck me so good.”
You slowly begin ramping up the pace, rolling your hips with each stroke. You want to make sure your cock pleases every inch of Momo’s pussy, and make sure it craves you when she’s alone at night.
After several minutes of this tender, softer version of lovemaking, Momo comes back to her senses. She arches her back again and turns her head to gaze in your eyes as you continue to take her. She begins to move her ass back and forth on your cock in unison with your own strokes.
“Oh my god, you feel so good in my fucking pussy! Every...fucking...stroke!” Momo gasps, the final words punctuated by the force of her majestic ass crashing against your cock.
“You’re a bad girl, Momo,” you tease, “you like being taken and shown who’s boss, don’t you? You like me grabbing your hair and slapping your ass?”
“Yes!” she gasps, “Yes I love it! Mmmmm...I want you to fuck me until you cum. Fuck me until you cum!”
There was no command in the world easier to follow.
Satisfied that you had fulfilled your vain, immature desire to see her acknowledge your skill as a lover, you now focus yourself on extracting pleasure from the young woman beneath you. You settle into a pace with rough strokes, fiercely pounding her over and over. Your pleasure rises with each thrust, aided not only by the mindblowing caress of her pussy, but by the incredible sight of Momo on all fours before you moaning with each strike of your cock inside her.
“Fuck Momo...I don’t think I have much longer, I’m gonna fucking cum so hard!”
“Yes,” comes the response from Momo, “Yes, yes! Fucking cum baby, I want your cum so bad!”
A few more thrusts and you can feel the point of no return coming. For a brief moment you contemplate cumming inside Momo, to truly claim her. You quickly reconsider, wanting to give her what she truly wanted--to swallow your load.
And so, you quickly withdraw your cock from Momo’s now sopping wet pussy and she instinctively turns around and drops to her knees on the floor. Stroking your cock with great fervor, her mouth wide open begging for what was to come.
“Please give me your cum, please, please! I want it...I need it! Cum for me!”
Your head tilts backward as a long groan escapes your lips. Your cum explodes from your shaft, shooting long, thick ropes of semen into her mouth and onto her cheeks and nose. Over and over, your cum splashes on her beautiful face until you finally reach the end of your orgasm, panting and exhausted. Momo’s face is a pornographic picture of lust, her eyes rolled back in pleasure as she swallows the mass of cum you deposited in her mouth.
“I fucking love your cum,” Momo says as she wipes the remaining cum off her face with her finger and promptly brings it to her tongue before swallowing it down as well.
“I’m glad we were both able to get what we wanted,” you say, struggling to catch your breath.
“Speaking of getting what I wanted…” Momo says, nodding her head to the part of the floor where the USB drive now sits, evidently thrown from the table during the session that had just taken place.
“Right,” you say, suddenly remembering you’re here for work, “make a copy and let’s get out of here.”
“Great,” says Momo, still on the floor with a satisfied smile of content on her face, “Hey, I meant what I said about having you join our team. As much shit as I give you, we could really use someone with your talent.”
“Thanks, but I think I’m better off staying put. Don’t think the Korean government would let me live if I tried defecting.”
“Probably true,” says Momo as she begins picking up her clothes, “Never hurts to ask, though.”
***
A few minutes later, you and Momo had both gotten dressed and copied the file onto a drive for her. Momo disappeared into an adjoining hallway and you set off to traverse the stairwell again. As you prepare yourself for the descent, you also steel yourself for the repercussions of giving the intel to a foreign spy agency. With the information you saw in the file, you knew the Japanese would have to be looped in sooner or later. If it was going to happen eventually, you thought it made the most sense to entrust that intel to the agent on the other side you knew would make sure things got done correctly. As logical as it seemed to you, however, you knew it wouldn’t be taken well back at the office.
You click on your comms link, now knowing there’s nothing to fear.
“Hey Choa, I’m on my way back to the rendezvous.”
“Oh thank god! That took forever, I was about to call for a tac team!” Choa sighs with audible relief, “I take it you got everything you needed?”
“Got more than I needed, actually,” you say, nervous about Choa’s reaction to what you say next, “Listen, there’s one small thing you should know...”
“You did WHAT?!”
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What 2020 has taught me
1. Those things that seem like content for sci fi or pure fiction are actually things that can happen. To the entire world. Like a pandemic. And to you. Like a seizure.
2. Everyone is sad. Everyone is struggling. In different ways and in different measures. Makes no one special. But you still get to feel sad for yourself and be compassionate towards others. But it's also okay to draw boundaries because you're everyone too. Remember, not special? You're sad and trying to deal with it too.
3. Every job you have will not add value to your life. It will not teach you new things or give you people you'll want to stay in touch with. Sometimes some jobs will only be a season of your life. Even if the season lasts for over a year. It's okay.
4. You know how you thought picking a college and picking a major and picking your first job and picking a specific industry were all the career decisions you had to make? Yeah, no. It's never a one time thing. You could have a job as a marketing strategist for two years and then want nothing to do with it. And then you'll have to make another decision and work towards it. So I'd like to call it moves. It's like chess. You always have to make a move. And it always has to be strategic, yes. But the truth is in your 20s it probably won't. Even if you try. And as long as you're trying, you'll be fine.
5. You may have different sorts of friends like the one you only talk to about kdrama with or the one you met when you went book shopping alone and the friendship is all about books really. That's normal. But irrespective of why and how you became friends with them, if you consider them a friend then there has to be this basic sense of care, respect and empathy for each other. I don't care what people want to say. If you're faced with the worst trauma of your life, the least your friends can do is check up on you regularly. On text. And if they don't even do that then guess what? They aren't friends. They are acquaintances. Social media and quick promises make everyone seem like your friend. But they are not. They are just nice people who will be nice to you for specific periods and then wander away like you are a speck of dust floating in their journey.
6. You speak a lot and write and you express yourself and you’re emotionally mature but oh my god. You still hold in so much. You’ve known that at a subconscious level and over the last year people - experts - have told you that. You have also realized that you make your pain and sadness about pettier things because dealing with them, admitting about them, sharing that with your friends, is easier. You do that so that you don’t have to deal with the real stuff. Because it’s so damn painful. And you don’t know how to do it. Yet. Acknowledging is the first step anyway right? I know you’re confused about how exactly to let go of all this pain and sadness and feel lighter, and you know that talking to people really isn’t the solution, but I also know you’re smart enough to figure it out.
7. Talking about being smart...you know you’re different than others. Better. Special. Smarter. None of these are the right words. And you never voiced this out until this year because you knew it would make you come across as narcissistic. Some would say it’s because you’re an INFJ. But my mother once said that this may be the first time we are consciously living life but our souls are old and so our instinct and the things we know but can’t explain are because this isn’t the first time for our souls. The connections we feel with certain people, the reason we are so different from our siblings who grew up in the exact same environment with the exact same opportunities, our sense of right and wrong...it’s all because our souls learn and grow with each time and that’s why we are who we are. I think that’s probably how I can explain what I have always felt. That I am living in a different universe than everybody but I have to pretend to be in this one and dumb my emotions and thoughts down. Maybe that’s because my soul has lived through thousands of years while most around me are living their 100th life. Or maybe I’m just narcissistic, who knows?
8. You shift between talking in first person and second person but that’s because that’s how you think in your head and talk to yourself and live your life. You ask yourself things and you accuse yourself of things and you apologize to yourself and you comfort yourself. I think that seeps into your writing and the changing of the voices.
9. You always genuinely thought that you’d not be afraid of dying. And then what happened this October proved you shockingly wrong. I know it’s not so much being afraid of dying but the unbearable pain of knowing what that would mean to your family. So you have to be more prudent and less reckless with your life and the choices you make.
10. Regret is not something that plagued you but this year the realisation and pain of giving away your favourite books from your own personal collection to people you care about as a show of affection and them turning out to be ass holes or losers has hit you so hard. So, yes. No more of that shit. I really fucking want my copy of The Perks Of Being A Wallflower back. UGH. With the childhood picture of me inside it!
11. Sleeping at 5 am in the morning stops being fun or romanticised when you realise just how much harm it does to your body and mind. Literally every single disease and disorder can be traced back to a shitty fucking sleep schedule. It’s not just the hours you sleep but also the quality of sleep and the time you sleep at. So yes sleeping for 8 hours is healthy but not if that 8 hours is from 5 am to 12 pm. ‘Not a morning person’ is just another construct of capitalism and you don’t realise how many industries profit from having you believe that and staying up late or all night. Entertainment. Food. Alcohol. Pharma. Biologically and naturally you are a bloody morning person. And you don’t need 3 cups of coffee to begin your day or your phone notifications to get you to open your eyes and brain to wake up.
12. Sometimes you really have to stop taking people so seriously. I know the idea of treating people as casual friends or entertainment makes you want to fight that concept but you know what? Some people like Pineapple are ever only going to be good for that. No matter how much they ‘grow and change’. So keep them in the background for whenever you want some entertainment or drama. But please don’t clear up your busy schedule to meet them or send them gifts on their birthday.
13. If you don’t have the fruit juice or green juice within half an hour of making it then you are losing out on its most optimum health benefits. Or when you remove the white stringy stuff from oranges. That’s where all the actual nutrients are.
14. I am privileged and so are most of the people I interact with. The global pandemic has been hell for a lot of people around the world. Health wise. Financially. Losing people they care about. But I was blessed enough to be safe at home and have a job that I could smoothly do from home and not have a pay cut or 4-hour long Zoom meetings. So honestly when my friends tell me 2020 has been bad I have to stop and ask them why? Yes, the crippling uncertainty and anxiety is not something that can be undermined. But most people I know had very great positive life-changing milestones this year like moving away to another country for college or taking their first solo trip or getting married. So I have to ask them. Because I am not going to agree that everybody’s 2020 and pandemic narrative is the same.
15. Money gets spent really quickly. When I left my job earlier this year because of personal issues, I thought I had enough savings to last me a year. Full disclosure - I mean to last my personal expenses because I live with my parents. But it didn’t even last me 3 months. And so to use money wisely and buy things that provide utility than instant gratification is something to follow. Also buying one pair of really expensive but quality shoes is better than buying 5 pairs of affordable but low quality shoes that will have a very short life and force you to buy more. I know that higher price doesn’t always mean better quality but sometimes it does. And as an adult now I want to do the whole quality > quantity thing even with things and not just people.
16. Everyone in their 20s went through a crisis of what they should do with their lives and their careers and it’s not unique to the 21st century and the challenges of today. Whether it was Vincent Van Gogh in the 19th century or Sylvia Plath in the 20th, every single person, as brilliant as them went through the torture of making these decisions and living with their consequences. You may think I picked wrong examples for they both killed themselves but you know what? They were the people who really want to live more than anyone. They knew what life meant. And maybe if mental health help was more accessible back then their lives would be longer and more peaceful.
17. Telling people everything is overrated. You don’t have to talk about every single thing that’s on your mind or that’s going on in your life. The good and the bad and the mediocre. You have to be mindful about how much of yourself you’re giving away.
18. Re-watch Suits when people at work feel intimidating because the confidence + negotiation tactics that they show can actually work irl cos at the end of the day no matter in what position you’re dealing with people who have emotions and fears and insecurities and desires. You understand how to leverage that nobody can get the better of you.
19. You belong to yourself. No matter how much you love someone or how much they have done for you or how much you owe them - you belong to yourself. You can’t live your life for someone else. Everyone belongs to themselves first. No relationship, no promise, no circumstance should make you feel like you have to give up your life and make it all about them. If and when the time comes to die for them, go ahead. Take a bullet. Donate that kidney. Write them in your will. But live your life for yourself. And let them live theirs.
20. Twenty three was a challenging year. When it started you claimed the age 23 sounds boring and insignificant. Guess it proved you wrong. It hurt so much now. But that only means you’ll look back on it later and see how it added so much wisdom and resilience to your being. It doesn’t mean that it makes all the bad things that happened to you okay. Or that you should be grateful to them. Fuck no. It means that you should be kinder to yourself because at the end of the day, your mind and body find it in themselves to deal with whatever is thrown their way. They have your back. It’s time you learn to sit straight.
#what i learned in 2020#poeticstories#writerscreed#poetryportal#inkstay#writtenconsiderations#flowerais#wnq writers#shareaquote#note to self#things to learn#things to remember#writers on tumblr#poets on tumblr#words to live by#books and libraries#self realisation#self reflection#year end reflection#year end review#end of the year#new year new me#New Year Resolutions#Career choices#vincent van gogh#sylvia plath#2020#creatingnikki
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Lila Rossi: I’d Say She’s a Good Villain, but Then I’d Be Lying (300 Follower Special)
Deception and cunning are easily two of the most important traits an antagonist could have. It shows that even if they don't have the strength to overcome obstacles, their wit is more than enough. This kind of trait is why characters like Lex Luthor, David Xanatos, and Princess Azula are so beloved, simply because of how intelligent they can be as villains and pose a real threat to the heroes.
It's clear that the Miraculous Ladybug writers want Lila to be seen as this, but the writing seriously fails to back that claim up.
Easily one of the most controversial characters in Miraculous Ladybug is Lila, mainly for the writing surrounding her. But there was a time where she was actually more of an ambiguous character, mainly for the lack of screentime she had until Season 3. But unfortunately, the more appearances she's had have painted a very poor portrait of an antagonist.
Lila's Tragic and Sympathetic Motivation for Hating Ladybug
Lila's first appearance was at the tail end of Season 1, “Volpina”. She was a new transfer student from Italy, and quickly made friends with a lot of her classmates for the lies she told, including being friends with Ladybug (which Alya blindly believed without doing any research like any excellent journalist). But because of how close she was getting to Adrien, Marinette, in a rare act of selfishness, transforms into Ladybug just to chew out Lila for lying about knowing her, humiliating her in front of Adrien. And this is the only motivation we get for what Lila does afterwards.
I'm not saying that it's wrong for Lila to get upset at Ladybug for doing this, and I like the moment of weakness Marinette has, but this is literally the only explanation we get for Lila deciding to side with Hawkmoth, a literal terrorist. As much as I hated the way the arc turned out, I could still understand Chloe siding with Hawkmoth, as it was clear that Hawkmoth was manipulating her and taking advantage of her ego. Lila? Ladybug's mean to her one time, and that inspires her to conspire with a complete stranger who brainwashes people to attack the city, which endangers innocent people and causes God knows how much in collateral damage if not for Miraculous Ladybug fixing everything.
I just don't get how a single negative interaction with someone is enough to conspire with a literal supervillain. Even in Season 3, when Marinette and Lila truly became enemies, it was because she risked exposing all the lies she told, which could damage her reputation. Sure, it's petty, but it makes sense for Lila to want to keep up the illusion. If she was simply an antagonist to Marinette in her civilian life like Chloe was before “Miracle Queen” , I'd be fine with that, but the writers clearly want her to be seen as on the same level of evil as Hawkmoth. I'll get into why that doesn't work later on.
Why Lila is an Excellent Liar
In my Master Fu analysis, I had pointed out that despite all the flaws he had, the narrative insisted on portraying him as an incredibly wise mentor. The same problem applies for Lila as well. We're supposed to see Lila as an expert manipulator and liar, but her lies are insultingly obvious. She always claims to be friends with celebrities and does all these awesome things, and in an age where we can have almost any question answered thanks to the internet, nobody ever stops to question her.
It's even more frustrating when you hear Lila talk about saving Jagged Stone's cat, when Jagged Stone is established to be very fond of Marinette (evidentially more than his own daughter), and nobody ever points that out. I think if Lila's lies were more stories about her travels around the world than outright lies about real people, it could have worked. It'd still be hard to believe, but it's something.
But this is a problem with writing shows aimed at children. As much as we hate writers who need to spell out things to kids, sometimes, they just don't understand some of the media they consume. Seriously, I never got this joke in SpongeBob as a kid, and I can't believe Nickelodeon actually approved this.
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So the dilemma when writing a show with children in mind is finding that sweet spot between assuming your audience can figure it out, but not being too vague in your details. It's even harder when you need to find a way to convey the fact that someone is lying without being too obvious. Unfortunately, the show clearly fails to do that
Okay, this is going to sound like an incredibly weird thing to cite, and I only know about it because I used to know someone who was a huge fan of the franchise, but the movie Monster High: Friday Night Frights does a better job of subtly explaining to the audience that a character is lying. Please, just hear me out.
The movie follows the main characters competing in their high school's roller derby for the season after everyone on the usual team gets injured, and the championship match is against another school whose team tends to cheat to win matches. How they manage to do this without getting caught is anyone's guess. While the main characters are practicing, their coach, Clawd, notices a spy for the enemy team taking video of them to study their moves. In response, he calls over one of the athletes, Operetta, to chew her out for her showboating attitude. In reality, he's alerting her to the spy. Only using facial expressions, he clues her, and by extension, the audience, in on the fact that they know what the opposing team is trying to do.
This soon leads to Operetta pretending to tell the enemy team about their secret plan for the championship match, which was really an attempt to outsmart them to gain the advantage in the final stretch. The brilliance of this is how the audience is informed of this with no dialogue, and there's no scene afterwards spelling it out for those who don't get it. It manages to convey deception without being too obvious that Clawd and Operetta are being deceitful.
I think if there were more subtle hints to show the audience Lila was lying, she would be seen in a better light. As it is, Lila's lies are just pathetic, and it's ridiculous that everyone believes her. Which leads me to...
Lila, the Master Manipulator
I once read a Star Trek: Voyager fanfic that poked fun at the series by claiming that the reason a lot of the dumber episodes like “Threshold” and “Twisted” happened was because one of the crew members was an alien who unintentionally produced mood altering pheromones, with Captain Janeway actually realizing they were all high because of said pheromones, while two of the unaffected crew members were wondering what the hell they were doing before they found out the cause. Why do I bring this up? Sometimes, it feels like Lila is an unintentional parallel to the alien in that story.
Like so many characters, it's clear the show desperately wants the audience to view Lila in a certain way, but her actions do very little to actually back up that claim. When she's not using lies to tell stories about so many famous people she knows like her uncle who works for Nintendo, Lila is using strategies to manipulate everyone that are so obviously deceptive, the Thermians could pick up on them. Everyone and their mother knows how ridiculous a lot of what Lila does in episodes like “Chameleon” and “Ladybug” are, and I've talked about them before, so I'll try to be quick.
First off, as someone who had access to accommodations through high school and has had assistance in college so far, there is no way in hell that Ms. Bustier should take Lila's tinnitus at face value in “Chameleon”. If a student has a disability that could interfere with the education process, physical or developmental, not only does the school have to evaluate their performance, and determine if they're eligible for an Individualized Education Program, or IEP, but her teachers would have to be notified in the first place. As her primary educator, Ms. Bustier would be part of the team to oversee Lila's IEP and determine what accommodations she needs to help her learn better with her tinnitus and arthritis. But because the writers don't know what Google is, they just ignore it, assume that Lila can just say she has a disability, and have everyone believe it. Even when Eric Cartman pretended to be disabled to compete in the Special Olympics, he put in more effort to look the part, even if he looked like a caricature.
Then there's the fact that that in “Chameleon”, everyone just believes Lila when she says Marinette stole her grandmother's necklace when not only is said necklace from the Agreste line of jewelry, but Alya, who is Rena Rouge, can't pick up on the fact that it's a fake. All she does to justify these lies is come up with a sob story about how nobody believes her, yet nobody ever tries to defend Marinette except Alya one time, and it was after she got expelled.
Or what about in “Oni-Chan”, where Lila thinks having Kagami kill Ladybug while claiming she'll back away from Adrien is a good idea? Let's say Oni-Chan does kill Ladybug or at least take away her Miraculous, what then? We know Lila wouldn't go through with this promise, and as soon as Kagami sees her harassing Adrien, she'll be ripe for akumatization again. Overall, not a great plan.
And yet somehow, this last example is what made her worthy enough to become one of Hawkmoth's most trusted agents. I'm just going to say it: Lila is not a good fit for the power of illusion. Whenever she's Volpina or Chameleon, she always goes out of her way to make a big show instead of being subtle with her deceptions. “Chameleon” is the worst offender, as even though Lila gets the power to shapeshift into someone else, instead of being discreet and cornering people into kissing them and gaining their appearance, she just runs around to get Ladybug's attention instead of being subtle. Even Felix had the bright idea to pretend to be Adrien to catch Ladybug off guard. How do you lose to something that happened in “Felix”?
Despite all of these screw-ups, we're still supposed to see her as this master of deception worthy of allying with Hawkmoth in both his supervillain and civilian form, when really, she's a terrible liar on the schoolyard and on the battlefield.
Why Lila is an Important Character
In the grand scheme of things, Lila just isn't as important of a character that the show loves to parade her around as. She's nothing more than a plot device used to raise the stakes in an episode, given how much reality seems to bend over just to accommodate for her lies. Even when the show alludes to her being part of bigger things, like her deal with Adrien, or her rivalry with Marinette, they don't even go anywhere.
She just feels pointless when you remember Astruc's brilliant idea to force Chloe into being the final Akuma for the season while Lila isn't even mentioned once. She only really makes appearances whenever the writers feel like it, which is why it’s hard to take her seriously. Why should I take this character seriously as a threat if the writers refuse to take her seriously as a threat? Why build Lila up as a big threat and not give her a major role in the finale? Why even include her in the show in the first place when you could show Chloe being more manipulative to fill in the plots Lila plays a big part in?
As of the time I am writing this analysis, four episodes of Season 4 have aired, three of them have been about lies or deception, and Lila hasn't been mentioned at all. It honestly seems like she won't appear unless the writers need a easy way to drive up the conflict, so they can justify it by saying that Lila's “superpower” of lying is more powerful than the common sense of everyone else.
I'm sorry this post was shorter than the last one, but compared to Master Fu, there's not that much to say about Lila that I haven't already said. Even the show barely gives her any attention, so it's hard for me to really find a lot to talk about.
#immaturity of thomas astruc#iota#thomas astruc#thomas astruc salt#miraculous ladybug#miraculous ladybug salt#lila rossi#volpina#marinette dupain cheng#ladybug#adrien agreste#cat noir#chat noir#gabriel agreste#hawkmoth#hawk moth#shadowmoth#shadow moth#alya cesaire#rena rouge#kagami tsurugi#ryuuko#ryuko#riposte#oni chan#onichan#caline bustier#zombizou
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Tiny Riot
Pairing: Sky x reader
Requests: I was wondering if you could do a soulmate imagine for Sky? Anonymous And Could you please make an angst/fluff Sky x Reader imagine? Anonymous And A cute sky imagine where him and the reader cuddle. Anonymous
You share a unique tattoo with whoever is your soulmate. Of course, this means people drawing their own “tattoo” on to match the person of their dreams. You try to excuse them by thinking of the desperation some people must feel to find their one true love. You have the pleasure of knowing exactly who your soulmate is because you saw his tattoo on the first day of school when he stretched after a workout and his shirt slid up to reveal the anchor on his lower hip. It’s just that you think he’s sort of a jerk so you refuse to act on it. You won’t fall prey to this idea that the universe decides who you can and cannot love. So, you date. You date everyone you can find who’s willing to test your theory that you can create love without caring about a silly tattoo but no feelings develop.
“This is not working,” you tell yet another guy that’s been your test subject for the past two weeks. You don’t want to admit that perhaps the tattoo could be a real thing because that means you end up with Sky. The obnoxious specialist who cares way too much about his hair and not enough about how to treat people. You see him date Stella who most definitely is not his soulmate but apparently, neither of them cares.
“I thought things were going pretty good,” he smirks trying to pull you in and as a result bringing you back to the present. You push him away trying not to care about the hurt in his eyes.
“I said we’re done.” You get up and leave feeling the frustration hitting you once again. Why is it so hard to find someone that isn’t meant to be your soulmate? It’s a rhetorical question by the way. All around you people are showing their tattoos to random people in the hopes of finding the one they’re supposed to love for the rest of their lives while your anchor is hidden under three layers of foundation. Four months pass before you slip up. You’re during a speed round of fighting in the ring. Two people in the ring, one punch sends you to the back of the line to wait your turn. If you block, the fight continues. You’re a sweaty mess after an hour and you don’t think twice about wiping your forehead with your wrist. The foundation comes right off leaving your tattoo exposed. It’s not fair that you’ve gotten yours in the most obvious place.
“Would you look at that? Ready to lose?” Someone somewhere in the universe is playing a cruel joke on you. Sky is standing opposite you puffing up his chest after Stella cheered him on. There’s no way in hell you’re losing to him - all worry concerning your tattoo forgotten. The bell goes off and you successfully block every punch he throws at you.
“Give me a real challenge,” you say deliberately provoking him to rush his punch allowing you easy access to the ribs.
“Hey, what is that?” He doesn’t care about losing anymore but you’re standing completely still from pure shock. How could you be so careless? Months of work thrown into the bin because you just had to win.
“Nothing,” you say hiding your hand behind your back.
“Is that an anchor?” he insists stepping towards you.
“No. It’s a clover. Totally not the same thing.” You rush inside hoping you’ll be able to lose him in the sea of students flooding out from the classrooms. You’ll be damned if you fall into the trap of believing the idiotic notion that sharing a tattoo means you must love each other. Eventually, he does find you though.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he says sitting down next to you. You’re not even going to try and run. You’ve been running all day trying to avoid him and still, he seemed to be everywhere you went.
“And now you found me.” You rub your tattoo - a habit you’ve picked up lately as a sign of your nervousness.
“I guess we share a tattoo.” You feel the cool air send a shiver down your spine.
“I guess we do. But I’m not going to date you for that reason.”
“You don’t even know me.” And I don’t want to. Though you can’t make yourself say that. It’s like your mind is purposely trying to keep you from hurting him.
“How about this? Give me 1 hour and if I haven’t convinced you that I’m actually a decent human being then I’ll never bother you again.” You’re saying yes before you even have a chance to think about it. You don’t consider Stella who’s probably pretty upset about this turn of events or the fact that you’ve sworn not to give him the time of day. Apparently, you’re not thinking with your brain anymore. Three hours pass before you notice the time.
“I should go inside.” You don’t move though. You want to deny the truth but he actually seems like a nice guy. It’s crazy how different your perspective can be depending on the situation. Watching him with his friends, he seems like a cocky idiot but with you he’s so different. He’s down to earth, calm and the best part is he’s not trying to impress you with crazy stories of his heroic acts or anything. He’s just Sky who likes to talk about music and once in a while mention a few books that really resonated with him.
“You know what I’ve always wanted to do?” he asks completely disregarding what you just said. You shake your head no waiting for him to explain.
“I’ve always wanted to sleep under the open sky.”
“Are you crazy? We’ll freeze to death.” It’s probably a bit of an exaggeration but you’ll definitely freeze. He opens his jacket and looks at you.
“It’s pretty warm if you stay close.” You’re screaming to run far away and ignore just how good he looks right now, but your body isn’t listening. Instead, you cuddle up with him wrapping the jacket tightly around you. That night you stay awake talking about everything and nothing wrapped up in each other’s arms. By sunrise, you know you won’t be able to go back to avoiding him. Your riot has failed.
“Why did you ignore me at first?” Sky asks and you can’t help but laugh.
“I wanted to prove that we weren’t bound by who the universe thought we belonged to. I’m my own person.”
“You can be your own person and still be meant for someone. One doesn’t exclude the other,” Sky reasons and regrettably, you have to agree.
“How do you feel about me now?” he asks. You don’t bother responding instead just leaning in and doing what you’ve been wanting to do for the past few hours. He’s taken by surprise but once he catches up, he’s quick to deepen the kiss.
“I guess pretty good,” he chuckles once you break apart. You can’t hide the smile on your face even if you wanted to. He gently traces the shape of your anchor which has an oddly relaxing effect on you.
“So, you believe in soulmates now? I convinced you?” he asks with a smile.
“You definitely made a good argument for your case.”
#sky x reader#sky blurb#sky imagine#sky gif#sky#winx sky#fate the winx saga#fate the winx club#fate winx club#winx club#winx saga#fate winx#fate#ftws imagine#ftws blurb#ftws#soulmate!au
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Jay is from the show Red Widow and unfortunately he's not really known 😅 At first I wanted to ask for Jack but I had no idea of the details for the story... Maybe he had to leave reader because of his job, but he loves her too much and decides to come back and find out that she is pregnant (a baby girl) I know, it's not original but i can't imagine anything else for this charming cowboy 🥺
Whole (Jack Daniels x Fem!reader)
Notes: Idk why I struggled so hard to write this fic but here she is in all her glory........yay. Not as smutty as per usual to prove I’m not a total whore but here ya go
Summary: after your life is threatened unbeknownst to you, whiskey takes it upon himself to protect you the only way he thinks he can––by leaving you. but what his cowboy brain doesn’t for see, is that he’s doing both of you more damage than good especially after a happy little accident.
warnings: brief description of smut and aftercare (like the La Croix of smut but still no minors), ANGSTTTTTTT, rOUGH, unplanned pregnancy, a slap, and a happy ending
Jack should have known the first time he wasn’t meant to have this kind of happiness—the kind where one could always have someone to return home to at the end of the day. No, he couldn’t have it with his late wife and he couldn’t have it with you either.
The human trafficker had somehow gotten access to personal statesmen information, because he had found out about you. Had your name. Had shown him pictures of you. Had shown that men were waiting at your doorstep if Jack didn’t back down now.
Thankfully, they were able to stop the man before it came to any of that—but it broke something in Jack. He couldn’t have another woman he loves die like his wife. He didn’t know if he could handle it. You didn’t even know about Jack’s real job, all you knew was that he was the CEO of a distillery and you never asked questions about that. Maybe it was easier keeping it like that, as Jack realized the only way to keep you safe was to leave you.
He had picked a night, picked a place to head out to after it was all over, and planned out the note. He had made love to you one last time before leaving—slowly savoring the way your skin felt pressed against him and the way it felt to have your walls drag against him when he thrusted, and finally stilled deep inside you. He made sure to take care of you before he left, clean with all sore muscles rubbed out and well hydrated—comfortable as you could be. You fell asleep so easily it somehow made Jack more guilty for what he thought was the right thing. He stayed longer than he should have after he wrote the note and got dressed, bag packed by the door, just staring at you, attempting to memorize the sound of your soft noises as you slept and the way your naked body looked covered by the sheets and pale moonlight. It was the most beautiful scene he had ever seen and wanted it to be the clearest memory he had of you. Tears sprung in his eyes, thinking that this is the only thing he will ever have of love—memories. He kissed your forehead one last time before walking out of your life forever.
*****************************
Jack hasn’t felt alive since, the toll of leaving you behind eating at him more than he ever thought it could. He’s changed in a way and everyone knows it—they see the way he moves or speaks now and know something has changed. He just goes through the motions of living with no actual life in his eyes to prove he is alive. He throws himself into his work working through cases and bad guys more efficiently than ever, but it doesn’t distract him from losing you—not when he lies awake at night crying and missing you.
Everyone around him changes too—Tequila doesn’t tease him anymore and walks around him like they’re threading through a room full of broken glass. Ginger does more medical evaluations—ones that are less to do with physical health and more to do with mental health. Most of all—champ acts different, “son—“
Jack pauses from exiting the debriefing room after giving Champ a status report and picking up another case, “I’m wondering if you should take a few days off from wo—“
“No,” Jack says curt and without a single space for bargaining. Champ is stiff when Jack looks at him, “I know you're wallowing over that girl.”
“I did what I had to do and I’m going to continue doing it.” Jack reminds him, staying steadfast in his decision. Champ shakes his head, “and it’s tearing you apart—statesmen get threats like that all the time Whiskey and they don’t go deserting their relatives or loved ones—“
“Well they're not me,” Jack states his stare is cold as he looks down at Champagne, “I can’t lose another person like that again.”
“You’ve lost her by leaving her,” his words cut through him and he knows it’s the truth, but it’s not something stubborn ol Jack is willing to withstand. Jack turns to leave again, “I’ll be off on the case.”
*****************************
You can’t help but pick up one of the sandwiches from the various food carts before they go out. It’s too tempting after standing for hours on your feet with a six month old pregnancy belly on your front—one you’re rubbing as you enjoy the taste of the mozzarella, pesto, and tomato together. The father of your child disappeared before you could even tell him—fitting considering you never grew up with a father in your house. So it has just been you and your baby girl, and well your best friend and business partner that was walking towards you now, joking “are the sandwiches up to your standards?”
“I needed something to eat after four hours of standing and being pregnant Travis,” you contest, taking another big bite. He shrugs with some sort of understanding, looking over the trays of food with you and approving them before they go off. Travis randomly starts, “I don’t think we should try to have this client again.”
You turn, finishing your sandwich with an eyebrow raise, “why? Did someone from the company say something to you—“
“Not that—although I was worried when the CEO invited his childhood priest—” he notes sending off the last tray, “I get bad vibes from the company itself.”
You think about it for a moment agreeing that something was fishy about the way a family-owned soap company was able to afford such a lavish event—something was a little off. You nod, “maybe not—I don’t want to get too close to a company that's a front. I doubt they would want us back because they’ve fired every event planner they’ve had before and the CEO’s wife already complained that the flower garnishes weren’t the correct shade of maroon.”
“We just have to finish the job then and we’ll be scott free” Travis mutters checking his watch, “just a couple hours left—what could go wrong?”
As though you were in a badly made comedy, right as Travis says that you hear clatter and gunshots come from the main event area, “......I spoke too soon didn’t I?”
*********************
Vincent Marsulio had tried to make a run for it once he realized his plans to run a million dollar drug business had gone to shit—I mean a soap company as a front? Really? Jack had dodged gunfire, tequila and the new agent rum covering him—allowing him to use his lasso to drag Vincent into Statesmen custody.
The scene was under control now—with agents and Ginger’s crime scene investigators gathering follow up information and evidence. Jack was just there to make sure the scene stayed secure and that no witnesses ran off that were revealed to be involved. Scanning the crowds of those being interviewed is when he saw you.
He should have known you were here—he should have seen your touches in the flower displays, the food selections, the drapery, and the table cloths. You were a party planner, he should have made note of that. You’re the same as the images in his mind—the memories that flash through his mind whenever he gets a flicker of your perfume or hears a laugh that sounds like yours. The only thing that's changed about you is your stomach—there's a sizable baby bump there, and he mumbles to himself “no…”
It had been seven months—seven months since he left you. It had to be his. He left you pregnant. As though you heard the gears turning in his head you turn and make eye contact with him—freezing in your place. He has to talk to you now, but you make efforts to move away, running towards a stairwell to get away from him as he shouts your name.
************
Despite being seven months pregnant you make a good chase, ducking down the stairwell and moving as fast as your swollen ankles will carry you while he shouts for you behind you. You can’t see him right now, he left, he doesn’t deserve this. Your condition must somewhat get the best of you as you end up stumbling on a landing—slowing down enough for him to catch up. You knew it was futile after all he ran faster than you even when you weren’t pregnant.
He grabs your wrist before you can go any farther, pulling you towards his body—only for you to wack a big slap to the side of his face, “how dare you—you asshole.”
“You're pregnant?” He asks quick as hell, and you frown still jabbing hits at him, “Why else am I so fucking big dickhead.”
He pulls you closer in an effort to restrain you from hitting him and from running away at any point, “is it mine?”
You had been avoiding looking at his face the entire portion of the ordeal—not wanting to see the face of the man that abandoned you. But you end up looking anyway and feel the tears spring up in your eyes. Despite the fact he left you you still feel love for him in your heart. You can’t lie to him, “it is.”
“Sugar, I’m—“ he breathes out, struck in the moment by every error he’s made in the past few months knowing he should have stayed, “I’m so sorry, please let me explain why I did what I did.”
You don’t respond just letting him speak at his own will as he settles you two down to sit on the steps of the stair. Jack tells you about his job, his wife, and the scare he had that just accumulated to him feeling like he had to leave to keep you safe. You had known about his late wife but none of the details about the affair and understood just why he was so afraid—but he still acted like an idiot. Head in hands, “why did you keep everything hidden from me Jack, I mean you lied to me about your job––no wonder I was able to find you after I found out, I was stuck looking for Jack Daniels brewery CEO instead of Jack Daniels statesmen.”
You got him there, “I should have––everyone told me I should have told you.” Silence emanates between the two of you, “I know sorry doesn’t make up for all I did––I don’t know if I can ever make up for what I did, but give me a chance because I want to be there for you and the kid–I love you sweet pea.”
Tears spring from your eyes, “I love you too Jack, we’ll figure it out I promise.”
Jack pulls you into his arms whispering what sounds like a thousand thank you’s for you and the girl in your belly, “it’s a girl you know.”
“A girl…” Jack trails off with a smile gleaming on his face and some unspoken joy in his eyes, that shifts into something of deep regret, “I was almost like him I don’t ever wanna be like him”
“You won’t.” you state firm and jack pulls away to cup your face and wipe away the errant tears still streaming down your face, “can I kiss you darling?”
“Please,” and with that the lips you have missed meld on to yours. After months, both alone and apart, both you and Jack feel a sense of security that everything will be alright––that your little family is finally whole.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I’m sorry that its bad....
taglist:
@poenariuniverse @harleyamidala @yespolkadotkitty @storiesofthefandomlovers @babybelou @legally-a-bastard @computeringturtle @clydesducktape @sixties-loser @buckysalefty @april-14-blog @prettylittlegoldfish @softpedropascal
#agent whiskey#agent whiskey x reader#agent whiskey x fem!reader#kingsmen#kingsmen universe#kingsmen golden circle#ginger ale#tequila#jack daniels#jack daniels x reader#jack daniels x female reader#agent whiskey x female reader#jack daniels x fem!reader#champagne#agent tequila#agent champagne#screams of anguish#smut#angst#fluff#happy ending#fanfiction#fanfic#Fic#Pedro Pascal#pedro nation#pedro balmaceda#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal character x reader#pedro pascal characters
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Your writing is always so amazing! There are so many of the bingo prompts that I would love to see what you do with, but I'll narrow it down. Could you please try stalking with Nyx? You write him so well, and as my current favorite character, I love seeing him put through the wringer. Thanks! <3
Why hello there! This is all your fault. Have 9k words of Stalking <3
Feat: Love confessions, soft moments and protective friends
Stalking
Fandom: Final Fantasy XV
Characters: Nyx Ulric, Cor Leonis, Libertus Ostium, Crowe Altius, Titus Drautos
Whumpee: Nyx Ulric (some Cor Leonis)
Word Count: 9190 (a.k.a HUGE)
Warnings: Gun violence, creepy stalker
Can be read on AO3 here
--
The date night was a success. This time it had been Nyx’s turn to choose the place, so he had taken Cor to Yama-chan’s. The food there was quite tame compared to the usual Galahdian foods so even Cor had survived that. It had been a fun and relaxing evening, one that was unfortunately coming to a close now.
“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,'' Nyx said, pressing a quick kiss to Cor’s cheek before getting out of the car. He wished they didn’t have to call it a night just yet but they both had to show up at work early in the morning. Nyx especially had gotten his own share of reprimands for coming in late or with a wrinkled uniform in the past, and he was dangerously close to the point of getting himself assigned on gate duty. Again.
One side of Cor’s lips twitched into a smile. “You’re not going to invite me in?”
“You know damn well we won’t be getting any sleep tonight if I do that.” Nyx huffed a laugh as he leaned in through the open window. Not that he would mind. “Besides, I think we should save some mystique for the relationship...don’t you?”
Cor snorted and twisted in his seat so Nyx could see just how unimpressed he was. “You just don’t want me to see what a mess your piece of shit apartment is.”
“Maybe, maybe not. Mystique, remember?” Nyx said as he stepped away from the car. “And your car stands out. It won’t be here in the morning if you leave it unattended.”
Cor made a face. “You need to move into a better neighborhood.”
Nyx shrugged. “I like it here.”
Cor gave him a dubious look but didn’t comment on it. “If you’re not inviting me in… I’ll be back to pick you up in the morning. Around seven?”
Nyx smiled at him. He had tried telling Cor he would take the subway, it was free for Glaives in uniform after all, but there was no changing Cor’s mind when he had decided to do something. ”Sounds good.”
They exchanged a few more words but then Cor was off. The smile stayed on Nyx’s lips as he made his way inside. It had been a really good night. There was so much more to Cor than he had ever thought. He made him feel good in a way no one else did. Gods, Nyx was really falling for him hard, there was no doubt about it.
Nyx hummed an old Galahdian song under his breath as he unlocked his door and stepped inside. He tossed his keys onto his desk and was in the process of taking off his jacket when he saw the giant letters on the wall above his bed.
He’s not good enough for you
Nyx’s blood ran cold. In a flash of blue there was a kukri in his hand. His apartment was small, there were few places for someone to hide in there. A quick sweep of the place revealed nothing. No items out of place — which was a minor miracle considering how frequent that had been in the past weeks — and no intruders.
“What the fuck?” Nyx walked over to the… message. The paint was still fresh and left a dark smudge on his finger when touched it. It couldn’t have been made that long ago, not with the way the smell was strong in the air as well. Nyx ran a hand through his hair and swore. There was definitely something shady going on.
The door had been locked. No one should have been able to get in, not unless they already had a key. Libertus was the only one with a copy of his key and Nyx knew he wouldn’t do something like this, none of his friends would. Somehow someone had gotten into his apartment though, possibly multiple times.
Nyx sat down heavily on the edge of the bed and pulled out his phone. He chose the first number on the speed dial and waited.
The line crackled to life a few moments later with the disgruntled voice of his best friend. “Nyx? What the hell are you calling me at this time for, you know we got an early shift tomorrow!”
“Sorry, big guy, but this is kind of important.” Nyx said, bouncing his leg up and down restlessly. ”You have the key to my apartment?”
There was a pause on the other end, followed by a huff from Libertus.“Don’t tell me you lost your key again.”
Nyx snorted with laughter despite the situation. Of course Libertus was never going to let him forget that one. ”No, not this time. I just need to know if you still have the key.”
“Why? What’s going on Nyx?” Libertus’ voice changed, a hint of confusion mixed with suspicion seeping into it. Nyx’s lips twitched up a tiny bit. Libertus had always had an ability, a sixth sense of some sort, to tell when something wasn’t right with him.
“You know how I told you about how my stuff keeps disappearing and all that?” Nyx asked as his gaze flickered back to the message. Just the sight of it made his skin crawl.
“Yeah?”
“I just came home and someone’s left a message on my wall,” Nyx said.
“Left a message… Nyx what’s going on?” Libertus asked, alarmed.
Nyx ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. He really hoped this was someone playing an idiotic prank on him and nothing more. “I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking you about the key. Do you still have it?”
“Yeah, I have the key,” Libertus told him and a moment later Nyx heard a door slam shut in the background. “I’ll be there in five, don’t do anything stupid.”
Then he hung up.
Nyx tossed his phone to the side and buried his head into his hands. This was messed up.
Libertus arrived exactly five minutes later, bursting through the door without bothering to knock. Nyx would’ve rolled his eyes if he hadn’t already been on edge because of the whole thing. He dropped his hands and watched as Libertus kicked off his shoes and eyed the apartment with a frown.
“What the fuck?” Libertus hissed as he saw the message. Nyx could see the exact moment he slipped into the ‘protective older brother’ mode with the way his shoulders tensed and eyes narrowed. “And you have no idea who could’ve done this?”
Nyx shook his head. “I locked the door before I left. You’re the only other person with a key.”
“Shit. There were no signs of forced entry?” Libertus asked and turned to look at him. “And what about your landlord? They should have a key.”
“My landlady is a sweet 80-year-old woman, she would never do anything like this.” Nyx snorted but grew serious fast. “Whoever got in here had to have a key though.”
Libertus sat down next to him, the bed creaking under them. “You think this has something to do with your stuff going missing?”
Nyx shrugged. “It would explain it. If someone has gotten access to my apartment, they could’ve easily taken my stuff too.”
“But why? Why would someone do that — this? It makes no sense.” Libertus made a disgruntled sound.
Nyx flopped onto his back and groaned. “I don’t know.”
Neither of them said anything for a while. Nyx didn’t know what he was going to do. The cops wouldn’t be any help. There was no real evidence of a break-in and, well, the cops weren’t exactly all that interested in what went down in the refugee district. That meant he would have to figure it out himself. Libertus and Crowe would most likely help, maybe even a few other glaives if he asked. Cor, too, possibly but Nyx didn’t want to bring that kind of pressure on their thing when they had only known each other for a few months.
“You can’t stay here.” Libertus said a few minutes later, breaking the silence.
“Lib,” Nyx began as he craned his head to look at his friend.
Libertus threw his hands in the air and growled. “Nyx, you’ve got to be kidding me! There’s someone out there with a key to your apartment — someone that has been coming here for gods know how long and you want to stay?”
“I don’t exactly have anywhere else to go to,” Nyx remarked and shifted to lie on his side, pointedly not looking at the message on the wall.
“Garulashit! You can always stay with me and you know it,” Libertus told him and nudged his leg as a mischievous smile spread over his lips. “And you’ve been getting all cozy with the Marshal too, I’m sure he’d be more than happy to have you over.”
“Shut up!” Nyx grumbled and made a half-hearted attempt to shove Libertus off the bed. Libertus just laughed and moved out of his reach.
“Speaking of which. You told him, right?” Libertus asked a moment later, making Nyx’s eyes narrow.
“Told him what?”
“Don’t play dumb with me.” Libertus’ eyes narrowed right back. “You can’t seriously be thinking about not telling him! He has a right to know about the message.”
Nyx huffed and turned his attention to the poster on the ceiling. “I was going to tell him…”
It wasn’t a lie. He was going to tell Cor... at some point. He just needed to figure out how to do that first. It didn’t seem right to just text or call the man and inform him that oh yeah, while we were out on that date, someone broke into my apartment and wrote a creepy message on my wall about how they don’t think you’re good enough for me. Ugh.
“Sure you were.” Libertus didn’t believe a word he said. Not that Nyx blamed him, he probably wouldn’t have believed himself either. “Either you tell him or I will.”
“Lib!” Nyx yelped and sat up. Libertus looked every bit unimpressed as he stared Nyx down. Nyx crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. “Fine! I’ll tell him tomorrow after work. Happy?”
“Ecstatic.” Libertus said dryly.
“I hate you.”
“Love you too.” Libertus replied and grabbed Nyx’s arm to pull him up. “You’re staying the night at my place, grab your coat.”
“Lib!” Nyx didn’t whine. He did not.
Libertus ended up winning the ensuing staring contest and a couple of minutes later Nyx was somewhat reluctantly putting on shoes. He supposed he could stay at Libertus’ place for one night. It just wasn’t something he wanted to make a habit of.
“Alright, let’s go,” Libertus said and basically shoved Nyx out of the door as soon as he had grabbed his coat. “Just so you know, I’m blaming you when I’m falling asleep during my shift tomorrow.”
---
It took some creative measures but Nyx managed to escape from Libertus the following morning so he could catch a ride with Cor as promised. He went back to his place to grab his uniform — he had a feeling Drautos wouldn’t be too impressed by him showing up in his date attire — and was greeted by the lovely message on his wall. He had hoped it had been some bizarre nightmare but of course that wasn’t the case.
Nyx sighed. He would have to talk to his landlady about changing the locks at some point. The wall would need a new layer of paint too which meant he would have to make a stop at a hardware store after his shift. Wonderful. Nyx muttered a curse under his breath as he tossed his jacket over his shoulder and headed back out again, just in time to see Cor arrive.
“Morning,” Nyx greeted the man with a tiny, barely there smile as he sat down on the passenger seat. He still didn’t know what he was going to tell Cor or when. Libertus would go through with his threat to tell Cor if he didn’t do it himself and that would be a disaster Nyx wanted to avoid at all cost. But how was he supposed to tell Cor? He didn’t even know who was behind the whole thing or why.
“You look like you didn’t get much sleep,” Cor noted with a slight frown as he pulled back into traffic.
“Yeah, well that’s because I didn’t.” Nyx said. It was true, he hadn’t gotten more than a few hours of sleep. He had spent most of the night trying to figure out who would do something like this but he had no idea. His friends might have been absolute menaces at times but they wouldn’t be stupid enough to paint on his wall. Not even Tredd would do anything like that. Then there was the whole thing with the key and there being only three copies that very few people had access to. It was a whole shitshow. “You don’t need to worry about it.”
Cor made a thoughtful noise and a moment later he was pulling over again. He shifted the car onto park and turned in his seat to look at Nyx. “You know you can tell me if there’s something bothering you, right?”
“I- Yeah, I know,” Nyx sighed. He averted Cor’s probing gaze and chose to look out of the windshield instead. Cor was smart. It would be for the best if Nyx just told him now but just the idea made him nervous.He had no idea how Cor would react. There was an irrational fear lurking in the dark corner of his mind, trying its best to convince him that Cor would somehow think Nyx was crazy or too much trouble and leave him over this.
Even if that was the case, Nyx couldn’t keep it from him. Libertus had been right when he had said Cor had the right to know. The message had clearly been about Cor, and as such he deserved to know. The person behind the message could go after him, and he needed to be prepared if that happened.
“Listen, something happened last night,” Nyx hesitated, licking his lips as he tried to figure out what to say. “There was a message on my wall when I got home. Freshly painted. I think it’s connected to my stuff going missing.”
“What did it say?” Cor asked. There was something akin to concern in his voice. “Nyx?”
“It, uh, it said ‘He’s not good enough for you’.”
Cor was silent for a moment, and it gave Nyx the perfect amount of time to regret telling him. It had been a mistake. He should’ve just stayed quiet and-
“Well, fuck.”
Nyx laughed, taken aback by Cor’s response. Of all the things he had expected, that was not one of them. “That’s all you have to say?”
Cor did not look amused as he looked at Nyx. “Did you stay there last night?”
“No, Libertus had me stay with him.” Nyx shook his head. He felt like he should say something more but he didn’t know what.
“Good, I don’t want you to go back there alone before this is solved,” Cor told him firmly. “With your permission, I’d like to get a few of my trusted people on this. They’ll be careful and keep it under wraps, I promise.”
“Cor-” Nyx shifted uneasily. He wasn’t sure how to respond. It made his heart flutter, glad to see that Cor cared about him enough to do all that for him. At the same time, he worried it was too much. He didn’t want to burden Cor with any of this, especially not when he would essentially put more work on his plate if he assigned people to find the mystery person. “You don’t-”
“You can stay with me.”
Nyx blinked. “What?”
“Stay with me,” Cor repeated, his eyes carefully tracking Nyx’s reaction. “At my place.”
“I can’t just leave like that, there are people in Little Galahd that need me,” Nyx shook his head with a sigh. He reached for Cor’s hand and intertwined their fingers. Staying with Cor sounded wonderful if he was being honest but he couldn’t. Not like this. “I’ll be fine, I promise. Besides, I could take care of it if the person tried something.”
“Nyx,” Cor drawled.
Nyx felt his heart stop. There was something about the way that Cor had said it that made him look up. He didn’t know how to interpret the expression on Cor’s face. It was slightly unnerving.
“Your apartment isn’t safe. The situation has already escalated, what happens when the person decides they’ve been hiding in the shadows long enough? I don’t want to see you get hurt. Stay with me,” Cor said.
Nyx ran his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes. “And what if they don’t find the person? I can’t just stay with you forever, I need to-”
“Why not?”
It was a simple question but all words died in Nyx’s throat when he tried to respond. He looked at Cor. The man had sounded sincere, even with his question, as if there would be no problem if he stayed for a long time.
“Nyx, I love you.” Cor said.
Nyx blinked. His brain stopped responding. The world screeched to a halt. Nyx couldn’t think, couldn’t remember how to breathe. Had Cor really just said that?
“You-… you what?” Nyx asked, his voice a few octaves higher than normal as his brain tried to catch up. “You- you do?”
Cor’s brow knit together. His expression was a mix of concern and amusement as he looked at Nyx and squeezed his hand. “I do. I love you Nyx Ulric, and I want you to stay with me. At least until the person is caught.”
Nyx ducked his head as a faint blush crept up his neck. His heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest from the whirlwind of emotions that he was feeling. He brought Cor’s hand to his lips.
“I- I love you too,” he admitted.
Cor tugged Nyx closer and pressed a kiss on his temple. “Stay with me?”
Nyx closed his eyes and smiled. He couldn’t say no to Cor, not after he had broken out the L-word. Cor, the little shit that he was, had to have known that. “You can be awfully convincing when you want to… I’ll stay with you.”
Cor gave a satisfied smile as he sat back. “Good. We can grab your things later today after work.”
“Yeah, okay.” Nyx sighed and reluctantly let go of Cor’s hand when the man got ready to pull back into the traffic. This was the last thing he had expected to come out of the conversation but he couldn’t be happier with the way it had gone. He felt all warm inside. Happy.
That feeling just about vanished when he got to work ten minutes late and came face to face with a pissed off Drautos.
“How nice of you to grace us with your presence, Glaive Ulric,” Drautos said as Nyx got into the line with the other Glaives.
“Sorry, Sir. Won’t happen again, Sir,” Nyx replied. He could see Crowe and Libertus sending questioning looks his way but they would have to wait until later. If he was still alive after Drautos had chewed him out that was.
“No, it won’t,” Drautos agreed. “You’re all dismissed. Ulric, you’re with me.”
Nyx ignored the whispers and snickering around the room as he jogged to catch up to Drautos. “Sir? I was assigned to the East Gate today.”
“Not anymore,” Drautos told him as they walked down the hallway towards the training rooms. “Today we’re introducing the new recruits to hand-to-hand and magic combat. You get to be my assistant.”
Nyx grimaced. The position of Drautos’ assistant was a rare gift to those that were on his shit list. In other words, it was just another punishment and Nyx was going to get dropped into the mat until he was one giant bruise. “Right.”
Drautos glanced at him from the corner of his eye. “You have a problem with this, Ulric?”
“No, Sir, none at all,” Nyx was quick to say. He just couldn’t stop pissing off Drautos, could he? If only Crowe was here to smack some sense into him, he could really use that.
“Good,” Drautos said as they entered the training room. “This should be fun.”
Nyx was wise enough not to respond.
---
Nyx groaned as Crowe put her tray down on the table with an unnecessary amount of aggression. He had his arms folded on the smooth surface, head propped on top of them as he tried to nap. He was sore and exhausted. He had heard one of the recruits joke about his bruises having bruises after Drautos’ demonstrations and that’s exactly how it felt like.
“What’s up with him?” Crowe asked. as she sat down and poked him in the arm. Nyx considered glaring at her but he figured that would be a waste of energy and he needed every last drop of it to survive the rest of the day as Drautos’ plaything. Libertus could be his spokesperson for the time being.
“He’s been playing Drautos’ training dummy the whole morning,” Libertus said with a hint of amusement in his voice. Nyx grumbled something incoherent under his breath and buried his head deeper into his arms. His friends would take any chance they could to enjoy his misfortune.
“Ah, that explains it,” Crowe snorted. There was a clink of utensils as she dug into her lunch. “That’s what you get for being late.”
“Why were you late anyway?” Libertus asked before Nyx could say anything.
“Ooh, do you think he and the Marshal did the deed before coming in…?”
“Crowe!” Nyx exclaimed and reached out to shove her. “Why do you have to be like this?”
Crowe just cackled. “He lives!”
“Just let me sleep,” Nyx muttered and put his head down again.
They didn’t. Of course they didn’t.
“Why were you late then?” Crowe asked as she continued to wolf down her food.
Nyx sat back in his chair with a sigh. He snatched an apple from Crowe’s tray and nearly got stabbed with a fork for his troubles. Crowe’s eyes narrowed dangerously but Nyx was too tired to care and stuck out his tongue at her. If he was going to miss his nap for this, he deserved some compensation for it, even if that was in the form of an apple.
“I’m assuming Libertus couldn’t keep his mouth shut about what happened last night?”
Libertus made an indignant voice and Nyx gave him a smug smile.
“Of course he told me about your mystery Stalker,” Crowe scoffed. “I think most glaives know about it by now.”
“So did you tell Leonis?” Libertus asked but the quick change of subject didn’t go unnoticed by Nyx and he narrowed his eyes. Libertus just gave him an innocent look.
Nyx rolled his eyes and took a bite out of his apple. “I did.”
“Yeah? And what did the Marshal say to that?” Crowe asked, her lunch forgotten as she leaned towards Nyx.
“Asked me to stay with him.” Nyx shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. He didn’t need these two to know about the exact details of that conversation. They would never let him live it down if they found out he had completely frozen when Cor had first confessed. “Said he would have a few of his guys investigate.”
“They’re so disgustingly in love,” Crowe cackled and shook her head.
Nyx looked at Crowe incredulously. “What? Where did you draw that conclusion from? I just said he would have someone look into this.”
“Exactly. You don’t see the Marshal doing that just for anyone,” Crowe pointed out smugly. “Don’t try to deny it, you’re in love.”
“Shut up,” Nyx groaned, tempted to throw the apple at her. The only thing that stopped him was the knowledge that she would absolutely obliterate him if he were to try. He didn’t think he would even be fast enough to warp away.
“Hah! I knew it!”
“I hate you both.”
“Hey, what did I do?” Libertus exclaimed. To his credit, he had actually been quiet for most of the conversation while Crowe had been the bigger menace.
“You love us,” Crowe said with a highly unimpressed look as she finally turned her attention back onto her tray and stabbed a piece of broccoli with a fork. “So are you going to be staying with him then?”
Nyx shrugged. “I guess? I did tell him I would.”
Crowe grinned widely, her eyes shining in a way that Nyx knew meant nothing good. She looked at Libertus. “Fifty bucks says they’re officially living together by the end of the month.”
“You’re on.” Libertus didn’t even hesitate before responding.
“Hey!” Nyx threw his hands in the air as he looked between the two. “I’m right here!”
“You wanted to nap, didn’t you?” Crowe asked him pointedly and made a dismissive motion with her hand. “Go back to napping.”
Nyx’s eyes narrowed. “Rude.”
“You know you want to,” Crowe said before glancing at the clock on the wall. “You’ve got ten minutes. If I were you, I would use that time well.”
Nyx muttered something unflattering under his breath. Ten minutes was way too little time for a nap. He had no idea how he was supposed to survive the rest of the day. Groaning, Nyx pushed away from the table and stood up. “I need coffee. A lot of it.”
His two loving friends just laughed at his misery.
---
Somehow, Nyx was still alive when his shift ended. His body was all kinds of stiff and sore and a glance in the mirror showed bruises of varying shapes and sizes decorating his skin. A hot shower helped ease the worst of the tension that had built in his shoulders before he dried himself off and changed into the sweats he kept in his locker.
Libertus gave him an amused look from where he was rummaging through his own locker. “Rough day?”
“Shut up.” Nyx threw a sock at him, only to regret it immediately when he realized he would need to walk across the room to get it back. He leaned against the lockers and groaned. Libertus chuckled but he seemed to take pity on him as he bent down to grab the sock.
“Rumor has it that our dear Captain is going to head outside the Wall tomorrow to check on some stuff so you should be safe for a while,” he said as he brought the sock back to Nyx.
“Yay,” Nyx muttered in response as he took the sock from Libertus and put it on. He didn’t want to think how that could mean there would be a deployment waiting for them somewhere in the near future. Stupid war.
“So are you going to Leonis’ place tonight then?” Libertus asked. Nyx lifted his head and squinted at him. There was something in his voice that made him think Crowe was somehow behind this.
“Yeah, we’ll go pick up a few things from my place when he gets off,” Nyx told him and leaned forward to tie his boots. He should probably get a pair of sneakers to keep in his locker as well, just so he could put on something other than his sweaty boots after a long day of work. Not that he really had many pairs of shoes to begin with — especially since one pair had mysteriously disappeared a couple of weeks back alongside some other clothes.
Libertus nodded as he turned around to walk back to his locker. “Doesn’t he live in some upscale neighborhood? Security should be better than at your shithole at least.”
“He does not live in an upscale neighborhood,” Nyx rolled his eyes, “And you’re one to talk! Your place is just as much a shithole as mine.”
“At least my apartment isn’t the size of a broom closet,” Libertus shot back pointedly as he closed his locker. To his credit, his place was actually larger and didn’t look as much of a disaster as Nyx’s did. Libertus’ phone pinged with a message and Nyx watched him pull the device from his pocket with a frown. There was a heavy sigh and then the phone was back in his pocket. “It’s my uncle. He’s having some trouble at the bar, asked me to go over.”
Nyx nodded in understanding. “Go, call me if you need an extra hand.”
“I won’t,” Libertus replied with a knowing smirk. A moment later he was gone from the room.
Nyx shook his head with a smile as he reached for his own phone. He lifted it to his ear after choosing Cor’s number on the speed dial. Exactly three rings later the call was picked up.
“Cor Leonis speaking,” came a gruff response.
Nyx snorted and leaned forward to prop his elbows onto his knees. “Didn’t even bother to check the caller ID?”
There was a pause on the other end, followed by a heavy sigh. Nyx’s smile faltered a bit. “Sorry, Nyx. I’ve been incredibly busy this whole afternoon and I don’t think I can pull away just yet. There was an incident earlier today and I need to clear a few things up before I can leave.”
“It’s fine,” Nyx reassured him. Cor sounded just as tired as he felt. “I can go and wait for you at my-”
Cor cut him off with a firm ‘no’ before he could even finish. “I don’t want you to go there by yourself. Is there someone you could stay with until I’m done here?”
Nyx sighed. “It’s not a big deal, I’ll just go in and grab a few things before coming right back to the Citadel. It’s safe.”
“It’s not safe,” Cor told him. “Nyx, we have no guarantee that the person won’t be there. Promise you won’t go there on your own?”
Nyx pressed his lips into a thin line, half tempted to whine. He didn’t though. Cor was just trying to look out for him. He could understand that. Taking a deep breath, Nyx closed his eyes. “I guess I could ask Crowe to come with me.”
“Good.” The relief was audible in Cor’s voice. “I’ll be done in an hour, tops. I’ll call you then?”
“Yeah,” Nyx said as a tiny smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He hesitated slightly before adding, “...I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Nyx sat still for a few more minutes after the call ended, deep in thought. Cor was the best thing that had happened to him in a long time. There had been times when he had thought he would never find anyone to spend his life with. Not many were willing to get together with someone who had a dangerous profession like he did. But then he had met Cor. Cor was everything he could have ever hoped for and more. Nyx was never going to let go of him.
When he finally got to his feet, Nyx shot Crowe a message, asking about her whereabouts as he left the locker room. He ended up finding her in the hallway outside of the mess hall before she could even respond.
“Crowe!” Nyx called out and waved at her.
“I thought you would’ve left with your dear boyfriend by now,” Crowe said with a chuckle as she walked up to meet him.
“Yeah, well, he’s working late,” Nyx told her with a sigh. “Which is why I came looking for you.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah,” Nyx nodded. Then he saw a smile forming on her lips and started wondering if he should’ve waited for Cor after all. Crowe would without a doubt find some way to make fun of him over this. He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “So, uh, I was thinking about going over to my place to grab some things but Cor doesn’t want me to go alone.”
“So you thought you would ask me?” Crowe asked with a dangerous twinkle to her eyes.
Nyx groaned. He knew this had been a bad idea. He should’ve just trusted his instincts. “Libertus had to go help out his uncle and you’re the only other person available.”
“Except I’m not available,” Crowe replied and motioned at the uniform she was still wearing. “Drautos has me pulling a double… and I would like to stay off his shit list if possible.”
“Oh,” was the only thing Nyx could think to say. Well, that made his plan a bit harder.
Crowe snorted. “I have to say, I’m surprised you, Mr. Independent, are actually listening to someone. You’re not scared of this stalker guy, are you?”
“Of course I’m not,” Nyx huffed, crossing his arms defensively. “Cor just doesn’t want me to go alone and I’m trying to be considerate.”
“Right,” Crowe cackled and gave him a playful shove. “Maybe I need to get to know him better since he seems to be the only person you listen to.”
“Don’t you have work to do?” Nyx asked her in an attempt to change the subject.
“I do,” Crowe said with a wide grin. She patted him on the arm. “Try not to do anything stupid, okay?”
“When do I ever?” Nyx smirked and waved goodbye to her as they went their separate ways.
Now Nyx had two options — he could either wait for Cor to get off work or he could save them both time by going to his place and picking up his stuff by himself. He had made a promise to Cor, though, and he would hate to break it. He didn’t want to lose Cor’s trust, not when they were still building it too.
On the other hand, they were both tired. Nyx had heard it in Cor’s voice. He could make the evening easier on them both and just get one thing off their list. Besides, it wasn’t like the stalker, as Crowe had kindly dubbed the person, had shown any signs of aggression towards him. He had never run into the person before, so what were the chances of that happening now? And he was a trained soldier, one of the best. He could take care of himself if there was trouble.
Nyx snuck out of the Citadel quickly, and it really did feel like he was sneaking off without permission. In a way, that was exactly what he was doing. Cor would understand though. Nyx hoped at least. He hailed a cab and twenty minutes later he was standing on the street outside of his apartment. A guilty feeling had crept up on him during the drive. Crowe would make a joke about how he was whipped but maybe she wouldn’t be that far off. Nyx didn’t want to betray Cor’s trust like this.
Cursing under his breath, Nyx took out his phone and called Cor. All he got was a busy signal. Great.
Nyx sighed and opened their text messages. A text message would be better than nothing, right? ‘Hey. I tried to call you but you were busy. I just got to my place. Alone. I’m sorry but I’ll be back in 30.’
With the message sent, Nyx pocketed his phone and headed inside. He would grab some clothes, maybe his guitar. His pictures too, he didn’t want to take the chance that the stalker would do something to them if they snuck in. In and out in ten minutes. Nyx’s lips pressed into a thin line as he pulled his keys from the armiger to unlock the door.
The apartment was dark as he entered, and he felt his way along the wall until his hands hit the light switch. As soon as the lights flickered on, his gaze was on the figure standing next to his desk. The figure, a man slightly smaller than Nyx, turned on his heels and looked at him with an unsettling smile. In his hand, was the picture of Selena and him. Nyx tensed.
“Close the door, would you?” the man asked, perfectly casual as if there was nothing wrong with the situation.
Nyx frowned, and against better judgement, closed the door behind him. There was something familiar about the man, something that made Nyx think he should know him from somewhere.
The man put the picture down — much to Nyx’s relief — and turned to lean against the desk.
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
Nyx said nothing at first as he thought. The man held himself in a manner that indicated a military background. He had an accent, somewhat similar to what Nyx had heard near the border of Galahd. The man had no other signs that would make him Galahdian but Nyx knew many people who chose not to braid their hair or wear beads and traditional clothing. Galahdian background would point towards the man being or having been a part of the Kingsglaive, as they weren’t as easily accepted in the Guard.
The man shifted, pushing away from the desk to stand straight. As he did so, Nyx caught a glimpse of a scar running across his neck, one that sparked recognition in him. Liero Malum. He had saved the man on a deployment a few months back when he had gotten cornered by a bunch of demons. It had been a really close call for the both of them, but especially for Liero who had nearly bled out after a particularly nasty hit.
Nyx swallowed hard. He had only seen the man a couple of times since, nearly forgotten about him too.
Liero clearly hadn’t forgotten about him.
“Is that- Is that my shirt?” Nyx asked, voice uncertain as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer as he noticed a familiar band t-shirt peeking under Liero’s coat. A sick feeling started forming in his stomach.
Liero smiled even wider and reached down to feel the hem of the t-shirt with one hand. “It’s so soft, you know, and smells so much like you. You hadn’t used it in a while so I thought I would borrow it.”
Nyx suppressed a shiver. Something about Liero was off. He put his hands out in a placating gesture as he spoke. “Listen, uh… Liero. That’s your name, right? You need to stop doing this. You can’t break into people’s houses and damage their property.”
“You don’t understand, Nyx! I’m just trying to protect you!” Liero shouted. His expression twisted into dark fury as he pulled a gun from his armiger in a flash of blue.
“Liero, put the gun down.” Nyx twitched at the outburst but forced himself to stand still as Liero pointed the gun at him. He had to defuse the situation, fast. If Liero pulled the trigger, the bullet could easily go through the wall to the neighboring apartments that housed families with young children.
“Move away from the door!” Liero snapped at him, waving the gun around. He was clearly unstable and in no state to be handling a firearm. Nyx clenched his jaw but did as told, careful to telegraph his moves to avoid any incidents. As he moved, Liero continued ranting, “Why don't you understand! They want to separate us! They want to take you from me!”
Nyx stopped when he was next to the foot of the bed and looked at Liero. The man was delusional, dangerously so.
A plan slowly forming in Nyx’s head. It would be risky but if he could just reach into his pocket, he could alert someone. He wouldn’t be able to do that with Liero keeping such a close eye on him, not if he didn’t want to get shot. Another option was to fight, try to disarm the man but it carried even more risks. Nyx didn’t want to take the chance some innocent person would get hurt if the gun went off.
Nyx sighed, his voice calm as he spoke, “Liero, you need to put that gun down. You don’t want to accidentally hurt someone.”
“Who says it’d be an accident?” Liero asked, his eyes narrowing as he walked closer. “Nyx, don’t you see it? You can’t go with the Marshal! He’s not the right person for you! This — us — is meant to be!”
A shiver went down Nyx’s spine. “Can we just take a moment and-”
“He’s not even from Galahd, he doesn’t understand!” Liero exclaimed. “Are you willing to abandon your heritage, your roots, for someone like him?”
“It isn’t like that. He’s-”
“Don’t tell me what it is and isn’t!” Liero surged forward and slammed Nyx against the wall. A startled gasp burst from Nyx’s lips. As delusional as Liero was, he was still strong and used his whole body weight to pin him there. Nyx grimaced, one of his arms was trapped between his back and the wall, essentially useless. He curled his fingers into a fist and struck out with his free hand but Liero caught it before he could make contact.
“I didn’t want it to come to this but they clearly have you fooled! I can’t let you ruin your- our life like this!” Liero told him and shook his head. “You brought this down on yourself but I will make everything right again.”
“You’re delusional.” Nyx hissed as summoned a flame into the hand Liero was holding.
Liero released Nyx with a pained cry. Nyx used the situation to his advantage and wrenched himself away from him. He managed two steps before something hard crashed down on the back of his head. A strangled noise slipped from his lips as he struck the ground and his head bounced off the unforgiving surface. Dazed, he couldn’t move fast enough before Liero was on him again, manhandling him onto his stomach.
“Stop squirming!” A heavy weight settled over his back as Liero straddled him. Nyx bucked under him, his fight or flight instincts kicking in but it did little to help. Hands caught his wrists and wrested them behind his back. He gasped a sharp, pained noise.
“Liero-”
“This is for your own good!” Liero insisted with a snarl. He snapped a pair of cuffs around Nyx’s wrists, tightening them to the point where they bit into his skin.
Nyx pressed his forehead against the floor, eyes closed. He cursed at himself for being so stupid, for not listening to Cor. His head hurt, as did his whole body. If he wasn’t already worn out from Drautos’ treatment, maybe he wouldn’t have gone down so easily. “Liero, think about what you’re doing.”
“I have. I’m doing this for you.”
“You’re not,” Nyx said, tugging at his wrists futilely. “Let me go. I don’t want any of this.”
“That’s because they’ve brainwashed you. You’ll thank me later.”
Nyx opened his mouth to retort but a knock on the door distracted him. His heart felt like it skipped a beat and he craned his neck to look at the door as a familiar voice called out, “Nyx, are you in here?”
Liero clamped a hand over Nyx’s mouth. “Stay quiet! He’ll be gone soon.”
“Cor!” Nyx shouted into the handgag. The sound was muffled, not even close to being loud enough to reach the door. Desperation filled him as Liero cursed and lifted his gun to point at the door. He tried to squirm, struggled to get free but it was all futile. He had to warn Cor.
Cor knocked again. “Nyx?”
Liero cocked the gun.
Nyx’s heart stopped. He shook his head to dislodge the hand, wrenching his head to the side as hard as he could and bit down on Liero’s hand. Liero cried out and yanked his hand away but Nyx paid little attention to him.
“Cor, watch out he’s-”
A gunshot rang out, and the bullet penetrated the door.
“No! Cor!” Nyx shouted. The smell of ozone filled the air as magic surged inside him, the crackle of lightning magic building. Liero swore. Fingers sunk into Nyx’s hair, gripping tightly before slamming his head against the floor harshly. A strangled cry ripped out of his throat and he slumped down and his vision greyed around the edges.
“I told you I’m not letting them separate us!” Liero growled as his hand pressed down between his shoulder blades to keep him down. “Stop fighting this!”
Nyx made a pained noise. His whole body felt sluggish, too slow to respond as he tried to struggle. He couldn’t give up. Cor could have been shot, he could be bleeding out on the other side of the door. Nyx had to help him. He called out again but Liero stuffed a cloth into his mouth.
“Be quiet!”
Right then the door busted open. Liero startled, his gunhand twitching dangerously but fortunately it didn’t go off. Nyx turned his head and his breath caught in his throat as he saw Cor standing in the doorway with a gun in his hand. He was alive. He hadn’t been shot.
“Step away from him!” Cor ordered, his voice dark in a way Nyx had never heard. He held the gun steady and his expression was one of pure determination, a steep contrast to the frenzied Liero.
“He’s not yours!” Liero shouted. “You’re not the right person for him!”
“I’m not going to repeat myself. Put your gun down and step away from him!”
Liero let out a snarl and Nyx felt him tense up above him. He tried to warn Cor but then Liero was off him in a crackle of magic. There was a grunt of pain as Liero crashed into Cor. Nyx yelled into the gag, struggling to turn onto his side and get up to help. He didn’t know how much he could do with his hands cuffed behind him but he couldn’t not do anything. This was all his fault, he didn’t want Cor to get hurt because of him and his stupidity.
Cor and Liero continued to grapple with each other, Cor’s moves sharp and those of a trained soldier. Liero was growing more desperate and frantic as the fight went on. Nyx managed to get onto his side but just that left him feeling dizzy. He saw Cor take a nasty punch to the face and flinched as he staggered back. He shouted at Liero to stop but it came out muffled.
Cor recovered fast, though, and caught Liero’s hand when he tried to throw another punch. He used the man’s own momentum to twist him around and put him into a chokehold. Liero let out an enraged yell and thrust his elbow into Cor’s ribs. Cor grunted. They staggered back a few steps but Cor didn’t let go.
Ten seconds later he lowered unconscious Liero to the floor and summoned a pair of zipties out of the armiger.
Nyx tried to say Cor’s name but the gag muffled it almost entirely. Cor still heard him, his gaze flicking over to him. His expression softened, even as his eyes shone with worry. “Hang on, Nyx, I’ll be right there, I just need to tie him up.”
Nyx nodded and dropped his head down as guilt and exhaustion set in. Cor could have been seriously injured or worse because of him — because he had been stupid and underestimated the situation. It all could have been avoided if he had just listened to Cor and his friends.
“Nyx?” Nyx startled, eyes flying open — when he had closed them? — to see Cor on one knee next to him. His gaze instantly flickered to the side where Liero was, bound and gagged in the corner. The man was still unconscious but most likely wouldn’t stay that way for long. Nyx twitched when he felt fingers on his face, tugging the gag out. He made a face and coughed weakly.
“It’s okay, I got you,” Cor reassured him, hand on his shoulder. “Just breathe. We need to get you out of those cuffs.”
Nyx looked at Cor, wanting to say so many things but somehow unable to get a word out. “Cor-... Wait, are you- you’re bleeding!”
There was a wet, dark patch on the sleeve of Cor’s jacket. Nyx chest tightened with worry. The gunshot. It hadn’t missed.
“It’s just a graze, I’ll be fine,” Cor told him with the slight shake of a head. He cupped the side of Nyx’s face with his hand, his thumb caressing his cheek. “And so are you. Do you think you can sit up so we can get those cuffs off?”
Nyx frowned but nodded after a moment. Cor carefully maneuvered around him, hands on both of Nyx’s shoulders as he helped him sit up against the bed. Nyx groaned. His head did not like the change in position.
“Just breathe,” Cor reminded him once again as he reached down to take the cuffs off. “He hit you in the head?”
Nyx sighed and slumped against the bed. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.”
“We can talk about that later. Let’s focus on getting out of here first, okay?” Cor told him as he got one of Nyx’s hands free.
“Okay,” Nyx replied quietly. He brought his hand to his face but Cor gently made him put it down before he could touch anything. “Wha-”
“You have a wound on the side of your head, I don’t want you touching it,” Cor said, calm but stern to get the point across. He released Nyx’s other hand too before throwing the cuffs and the key into his armiger. “He hit you?”
Nyx nodded. He was feeling downright miserable and the last thing he wanted to do was lie to Cor again. “He hit me in the back of the head with something hard, the gun maybe. Slammed my head against the floor too.”
Cor’s expression turned grim, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Okay. Any nausea, light sensitivity, the usual concussion symptoms?”
“Just hurts,” Nyx shook his head. Instant regret. “...and a little dizzy.”
“Okay, we’re going to the hospital,” Cor decided. His voice left no room for objections, not that Nyx really had the energy to do so in the first place. This was his mess, he could listen to Cor for once.
“You’ll get checked out too?” he asked. Cor looked at him, eyes sharp and assessing as they roamed over Nyx’s features. A minute later he nodded. Nyx was surprised, having half expected him to just brush it off. It made him relax a bit, to know Cor would have his injuries looked at as well.
Then his gaze flickered over to Liero. The man was awake now but he seemed unnervingly calm as he stared at the two of them. Nyx forced himself to tear his eyes away and look back at Cor. “What about him?”
“My people will take care of him, don’t worry about it,” Cor said without any hesitation. He glanced in Liero’s direction as well and his expression darkened minutely before he turned back to Nyx. “Think you can stand?”
“Yeah,” Nyx said. There was no way he was going to let himself be carried out. He was going to listen to Cor but he still had his stubborn streak and that meant he would walk out of there on his own two feet one way or another.
Cor didn’t fight him on that. He just nodded and slung one of Nyx’s arms over his shoulders to help him up.
“Shiva…” Nyx groaned as the world tilted around him. He screwed his eyes shut and leaned on Cor a little more.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you,” Cor promised him as he wrapped his other arm around Nyx’s middle for additional support. “Let’s just take it slow.”
Nyx swallowed hard and welcomed the added support without any complaints as they slowly made their way outside. Cor helped him into the passenger seat and gave him a clean handkerchief to use on the head wound. Cor had to stand outside for a moment or two longer as a new car pulled up and some people got out to talk with Cor. Based on their Crownsguard fatigues, Nyx assumed they were the people Cor had talked about.
A few minutes later Cor got into the car and they headed to the hospital.
---
It was nearly midnight by the time Cor and Nyx got out of the hospital, and closer to an hour later when they got to Cor’s place. Nyx had gotten stitches to his head, and had a concussion and some spectacular bruising to go with it. It wasn’t the worst concussion he had ever sustained, but coupled with the exhaustion and events of the day still left him feeling lightheaded and miserable.
“Here,” Cor said as he helped Nyx sit down onto the bed and out of his shoes. It made Nyx feel guilty, the way Cor was so caring and gentle with him even after the stunt he had just pulled hours ago, the way he had broken his trust.
“Thanks,” Nyx sighed as he lay down. Cor’s bed was so much softer than his own, he felt like he could just sink into it. Closing his eyes, he reluctantly shuffled out of his jacket and pushed it over the edge of the bed to the floor. Cor chuckled, most likely at him, before the bed dipped as the man joined him.
“Have the painkillers kicked in yet?” Cor asked. Nyx cracked his eyes open when Cor tugged him to his side with surprising ease and pressed a kiss to his temple.
“Yeah.” Nyx nodded, all but melting into Cor’s arms. “This isn’t hurting your arm, is it?”
“It’s not, I can barely even feel it,” Cor reassured him. He had gotten stitches to his arm but it was nothing serious. A few days without any life-threatening situations and he would be as good as new. “You’re the one that got more banged up.”
Nyx exhaled slowly. His gaze flickered up to look at Cor. “How did you get there so fast? To my place?”
Cor’s hand snaked down to intertwine fingers with Nyx as he sighed. “Someone saw you leaving the Citadel on your own. It wasn’t hard to figure out what your plan was.”
“Sorry.”
Cor shook his head and leaned over Nyx to kiss the bandage on his forehead. “It’s in the past now. Don’t worry about it.”
“You’re too good for me,” Nyx muttered. He pulled Cor down so he could kiss him on the lips. It was short and sweet and left him longing for more.
“You’re perfect for me,” Cor corrected. He tugged Nyx closer and made sure they were both covered by the duvet. “Get some rest. We can talk more in the morning.”
“I love you,” Nyx told him. He leaned his head against Cor’s shoulder and let out a pleased hum when the man ran his fingers through his hair gently.
“I love you too.”
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