#also wrote a small little scene that im hoping i can fit into a fic but if not then i might just write a 5+1 of theparty noticn steves crus | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dewykth · 4 years ago

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SWEET SEPTEMBER.

a @periminkle and @dewykth collaboration.

synopsis. for many, september symbolizes new beginnings. but for namjoon, this month never fails to send him back into the past. though this time, something seems different.

pairing. kim namjoon | female reader contains. fluff, angst, slice of life au, ballet instructor!reader, single dad!nj word count. 7.5k+ warnings. death mentions, mature audience

dae’s note. surprise !!! this fic is dedicated to my favourite virgo karla @guklvr !! happy birthday bae i hope you enjoy this lil thing me n vira whipped up for u!! (i stress wrote a lot of this ha.) also sry for lying & keeping you up but hopefully this makes u forgive me. but i hope ur day goes amazing ILYSM DUDE !!! <333 and a huge thank you to vira for hopping on board for this idea bc i cld not have done this without her !!! pls give her all the love !!!

vira’s note. KARLAAAA!!! i always gotta scream ur name it’s mandatory to start with a good scream ykno? bUT HAPPY BIRTHDAY GIRL 🥳 i already told u this too many times today but ILYSM !! like that full day without saying a single word to u felt so weird and i kept going into our chat and rereading our mssgs and wishing I was talking to u??? which is weird to admit?? but that literally how much i missed u idk how but im addicted to u so if you leave me I will literally die :))) aNYWAY have the bestestestest day ever and i hope u love the fic bc I ignored all my uni work to finish this !!! (also i feel reallyreallyreally bad about last night sO IM SORRY AGAIN BUT I HOPE THIS IS WORTH IT) 💖

Despite the papers carelessly stuffed into his leather briefcase, the dark coffee stain on his black slacks, and his unkempt locks resembling that of a bird’s nest, Namjoon’s become accustomed to the hectic nature of his mornings.

The kitchen table is practically buried under stacks of files, yet he brushes them aside to allow one corner of the glass surface to peek through. He plops the toddler in his arms onto a high chair before racing to the counter and sloppily pouring some honey nut cheerios into a small bowl, handing it off to his daughter.

“Daddy?” her voice squeaks, a patient smile stretching across her lips. Her brown strands are tied up into pigtails at the crown of her head with pink ribbons that flutter with the movement of her tiny head.

“Yes, angel?” He scurries around to their bedroom, peeling the stained fabric off his body and threading one leg through another pair of slacks fresh from the laundry.

With Namjoon’s focus pinned on checking off the mental to-do list in his head, he misses the gentle, reassuring smile that stretches across her rosy lips. The adoration for her father is clear in her gaze. “You forgot to pour the milk.”

At the reminder, he squawks and hops back to the kitchen on one foot as he maneuvers his other leg through the pant hole. Swinging the fridge door open, he grabs the carton and sloppily pours the milk into her bowl—white droplets leaping out with their newfound freedom and forming perfect domes on the glass tabletop.

Cleaning the mess falls to the bottom of his priorities at the moment, and so he speeds off to the bathroom to ensure that his appearance is presentable for work while Dasom reaches over to pluck a tissue from the box, swiping the milky beads away before diving into her breakfast. She shoves as many cheerios into her small mouth as she can, rushing because she refuses to finish her meal in the car with their wild driver behind the wheel.

Despite her mere four years of age, she knows from experience that a bowl of cereal and a shaky vehicle is a recipe for disaster.

Namjoon races over to his briefcase with most of his hair sleeked back, only the locks of his bangs hanging out to frame his forehead. As he slips his dark blazer on to complete his form-fitting suit, Dasom scoops the last few brown rings into her mouth and slurps the remainder of the liquid.

“Did you finish your milk?” he questions while cramming the edges of the loose leaves that peek past the seam of his briefcase, hurriedly zipping it up and turning to face her.

Dasom flips the edge of the bowl up to display its empty contents, gulping the last of her breakfast down her throat. As per routine, she scans her father for any inconsistencies in his attire, landing on his odd fitting bottoms.

“Daddy, your pants are on backwards.”

His eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, glancing down to affirm that the pockets at his sides are no longer at the front of his hips. Hastily, he shimmies out of his slacks once more and twists the fabric around to the proper orientation.

Dasom hops off her chair, her bowl and wet kleenex in hand as she waddles over to the sink and waits for him to deposit the dirty dish into the sink and the sullied tissue into the trash. Although her short arms couldn’t reach over the countertop just yet, she’ll diligently drink every last drop of her milk in hopes of growing tall enough to take some of the load off of her father’s back.

He hoists Dasom up at the sight of the red car pulling up to the driveway, squeezing into the back seat. Namjoon doesn’t have to tell the driver to book it, as the calm man in front has learned to keep his foot pressed on the pedal. The car weaves through the morning traffic with concerning speed, snaking through the other vehicles littering the road as if they were no more than stationary pylons, simply there for practice.

Dasom remains on her father’s lap with his arms looped protectively around the seatbelt over her torso. She sinks into his embrace, fiddling around with his long, slender fingers as she watches the blurs of colour speeding past the window.

“Did you put your ballet shoes into your backpack, angel?” Namjoon loosens his grip on her, unhooking one hand to rummage through his own briefcase in order to confirm that he had indeed slid his laptop within the chaos inside. To keep her entertained, he playfully extends his digits out of her reach.

“Of course!” she chirps, a wide grin revealing the gaps between her teeth. The pads of her fingertips brush against his palm and tickle the sensitive skin there when she realizes that her arms lack the length required to latch onto his hand. “I can’t wait for class, we’ve got a new teacher coming in today!”

Humming absentmindedly, he sighs in relief at the sight of the silver device and packs the crumpled papers back in. “What happened to Ms. Kim?”

“She’s teaching the older class now.” The pout on her lips can be heard within the muffled lilt of her voice when she continues, “I asked her to stay until my birthday next week b-but she didn’t.”

Namjoon’s breath hitches at the reminder, but attempts to compose himself for his daughter’s sake. “It’s out of her control, angel, plus she’ll probably swing by anyway.”

His mind starts to fog up with the emotions he thought he buried last year–they swarm his every thought and nibble away at his sanity. He knows better than to believe that they would ever disappear. September will always be an insurmountable month for him.

“I might be a bit late to pick you up later, just sit tight and wait for Daddy, okay?”

She eagerly nods in response, noticing the dull red bricks of her school coming into view. “Okay, bye Daddy!”

Namjoon unlocks the seatbelt, wistfully watching his toddler bounce out of his arms and onto the asphalt below. No matter how many times he drops her off, it’s always difficult to be separated from her bright smile, but he reminds himself that it’s all for her; it makes things a little easier to bear.

“Have a good day at school.” He reciprocates her frantic waving through the window, craning his neck to watch her adorable form become smaller and smaller with the increased distance. Her full cheeks and crinkled eyes are engraved into the back of his mind.

Before long, Namjoon finds himself rushing into his office after an earful from his surly boss about everything from the late hour to the long list of meetings scheduled to all the work he’s got piled up. With his lips pursed and his head bowed, he somehow manages to make it past another lively morning.

Namjoon has a habit of overthinking. He figures it’s normal when you have a stressful job and a four year old full of energy to balance all by yourself. Not that overthinking about his daughter does him any good, because that is far from the reality. If anything, it just makes him, what you’d call, a bit... overprotective (over worrisome if you asked Jin). But it’s something he can’t really help. Even when she had just entered his life, so small and so blissfully unaware of the awful and evil things in the world, all he wanted to do was hold her in his arms and shield her from it all as long as he could.

Though he’s very aware of the fact that it won’t be much longer, that won’t stop him from going over every single little thing that could go wrong in the meantime.

So, of course, when Namjoon’s asshole of a boss makes him stay two hours over his shift, all Namjoon can think about is Dasom. Is she okay? Has she eaten anything? Did she drink enough water today? She’s always dehydrated after her classes too. He usually calls Ms. Kim to check up on her, but his calls went straight to voicemail, which definitely wasn’t helping his hectic mind. Perhaps something had happened to her?

Oh god, maybe someone broke in and had injured Dasom?

The doors are thrown open, the sound of the doorknob hitting the wall reverberating through the room. The receptionist wearing her usual polka-dot dress jumps in her seat, eyes lifting from the intense scene on her phone to the entrance of the building. An unsure smile stretches across her ruby red lips at the familiar figure, though a bit disheveled and breathless. But before the customary ‘hello’ can even form on her tongue, the figure is rushing past her, leaving only a gust of air in his wake. The papers on her desk fall to the ground, and she sighs.

Namjoon is prepared to fight the (fictional) person who thinks breaking into a toddler ballet class is a good idea, but the scene in front of him once he pushes past the doors of the studio is one he is wholly unprepared for.

He sees Dasom first, and the relief that fills his body is indescribable. It’s far from the usual sight he’s greeted with when he picks her up late. She’s not sitting on one of the chairs in the far corner of the room. His heart doesn’t feel heavy, which comes with seeing his daughter so glum. This time it’s her laughter that greets him, not one provoked by him but by the figure standing in the middle of the room with her.

Dasom doesn’t seem to be aware of the presence of her dad yet, but the figure twirling her around turns, and her eyes land on Namjoon.

The reaction is immediate. The carefree smile that had been on your face slips off, a look of embarrassment and surprise overcoming your features. Namjoon only catches a glimpse, and somehow finds himself wishing that won’t be the last time he sees it. You let go of Dasom’s hand, quickly making your way to the stereo on the other side of the room. And that’s when-

“Daddy!”

Dasom wastes no time running into her father’s open arms, and Namjoon suddenly can’t remember why he was so worried in the first place. “Hi, angel.” he says, just loud enough for her to hear. She pulls back. “I’m so sorry for getting here so late. I promise i won’t do it again.”

But of course, Dasom holds nothing but forgiveness in her heart for her hard-working father. She does love teasing him, though. “Don't say sorry to me, say sorry to her.” she giggles, pointing behind her and Namjoon furrows his brow until he remembers they’re not the only ones in the room.

His eyes immediately move to where you stand awkwardly near the stereo, eyes moving around the room as if you hadn’t been watching the whole exchange. Namjoon sighs, realizing he definitely can’t avoid talking to you now. He stands straight, holding onto Dasom’s hand as he makes his way over to you. You only seem to grow more nervous as he nears, and Namjoon distantly recalls Jin telling him he came off as intimidating to most people. Something about his ‘beefy’ arms, in his own words. (“And that stupid and unfairly attractive face!”) He goes for a smile because it's not like he can control his physique.

“Hi, I’m so sorry about…”

Namjoon stops.

Maybe it was the overwhelming distress before, or the really shitty lighting of the studio, but he hadn’t realized how pretty you were before. But now he’s standing right in front of you and he can’t seem to form a coherent thought. Pretty can’t be the right word. He realizes how creepy he probably looks, running in here like a madman and then downright staring at the (very beautiful) woman who looked after his daughter? Not cool, man.

You clear your throat, before extending a hand to him. “Hi, I’m ____, the new ballet instructor.”

Your voice sounds just like honey.

Namjoon stares at your hand dumbly, before the sound of Dasom snickering (very discreetly) behind him snaps him out of it. But instead of introducing himself, or apologizing, or just taking your fucking hand, he says-

“What happened to Ms. Kim?”

He mentally face-palms.

Not. Cool. Man.

Your face falls, and Namjoon has never wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole more than he does now. “Uh, she’s instructing the teen class now.” you chuckle awkwardly, dropping your hand.

“Oh-”

“Daaaad,” Dasom's voice sounds annoyed, and perhaps it’s a bit silly of Namjoon to feel like he’s being scolded, but that is exactly how he feels right now. “I told you this. In the morning. Remember?”

He doesn’t. “Ah, right of course,” Namjoon scratches the back of his neck. It wasn’t like he meant to forget, he had just been too busy thinking about the other things every September would bring. “Sorry, I’m Kim Namjoon. Dasom’s dad.”

This time he offers his hand, and he thanks the skies above that you don’t seem to hate him because you fit your hand against his. Warm, like honey. How long had it been since he last made a fool of himself in front of a pretty girl?

Too long.

“I’m terribly sorry for arriving so late it’s just that my boss, who’s a huge-” Namjoon glances at Dasom, who is now in her own world, singing some song she learned in school, “jerk, decided to assign these reports last minute and the printer would just not work and then traffic hour-”

Your hand comes up to cover your mouth, but Namjoon can see the amusement bubbling in your eyes. He flushes a deep red, eyes falling to the floor, realizing he started ranting.

“It’s okay. Really.”

When he looks back up, there’s a smile on your face. Not like the one before, this one was more reserved, but genuine, reassuring. And just like that, he’s sure you don’t hate him.

Namjoon’s not sure he likes this feeling though.

“Straighten your arms out, girls!” you belt over the classical music that floods the studio’s walls, scanning your army of toddlers in tutus whose arms immediately tense at your command. Making your way through the row, you poke and prod everywhere from their shoulders to their ankles. “Arch your back more, Somin.”

Their muscles violently tremble in response to the strenuous routine you’ve introduced, facial features scrunched in concentration and a resolute will to uphold their positions despite the hyperextension of their limbs. A mix of pity and pride swells in your chest at their effort. “Keep your chins up, the annual recital is only a couple of days away.”

Cheers erupt throughout the small room, disrupting the focus and spoiling their perfect form, yet you refuse to quiet excitement because of the renewed vigour buzzing throughout the room. The next hour depletes all of their built-up energy with demi-piles, pirouettes and sautés.

A glance at the analog clock in the corner informs you of the five minutes remaining before the end of class, so you pause the speakers and instruct the girls to stretch themselves out as they wait for their guardians to trickle in. They collectively sigh in relief before dropping to the floor like flies.

You snort at their dramatics with an amused smile playing at your lips. “I said to stretch, not to lay down and nap.”

“Can’t we nap and stretch at the same time?”

Strolling over to the source of the voice, you cluck your tongue at her limp form sprawled across the wooden floor and cross your arms, struggling to keep your giggles from breaking your angered facade. “And how do you suppose we do that, little Miss Dasom?”

She flashes her toothless grin up at you. “Like this!” With one leg bent over the other and her hands looping around to hold her twisted limbs to her torso, she shuts her eyes and exaggerates her snores.

At this point, it’s nearly impossible to withhold your snickers, and the rest of the class joins in your laughter. You pick up on Dasom’s tinkling giggles between each of her heavy breaths. The lighthearted jokes continue as kids are signed out with bright grins on each of their faces.

You wait for the rest of the toddlers to file out one by one, waving goodbye and checking them off your list until, as usual, Dasom is the only toddler left. Her tiny feet still clad in her faded ballet shoes waddle up to you, tugging on your blouse.

“Your pirouette was a bit wobbly today, do you want to go over—”

“‘M tired,” she interrupts, slouching her shoulders with an adorable frown marring her lips. Her exhaustion is justified, since the routine is rather exhausting, and with their recital right around the corner, you worked them to the bone today.

The odd timing of the switch between you and Ms. Kim left you with a little under a week to tweak and perfect their current choreography. A sloppy routine is not the way you want to present your skills to their parents for the first time, thus you were stricter with the kids than normal.

Your sympathy wins out, and so you gather Dasom’s lithe figure into your arms as you head to the closest wall. With your back supported, you spread out your legs and place her in your lap.

“My birthday is this Thursday.”

“Mhm,” you hum, bobbing your head to signal for her to continue her train of thought.

Her back faces you, but when her head tips down to stare at her hands, you know she’s contemplating her words carefully. Rather than encouraging her to speak freely, you wait for her to feel comfortable enough to reveal her thoughts; and surely enough, her shell cracks open just enough for you to peep through. “Do you wanna come?”

“I would be honoured.” A giddy smile splits across your lips. “Is Daddy picking you up again today?”

She flips around in your hold, wrapping her arms around your waist and snuggling her head to your chest. Her words are muffled into the fabric of your thin shirt, but her tone indicates her affirmation.

Suddenly self-conscious of your heartbeat—that Dasom can definitely hear with her ear pressed up against you—picking up pace at the mention of her father, you suppress your thoughts with a guilty conscience. You internally chide yourself for harbouring feelings for the charming, taken, man, defying arguably one of the most important fundamental rules of becoming an instructor.

Do not develop silly crushes on your student’s parents.

“Ms. ____?” her faint question snaps you out of your reverie, attention brought back to the present moment. While preoccupied, your hand took on a mind of its own, gingerly patting the space between the little girl’s shoulder blades at a slow rhythm.

She gazes up at you when you halt your rhythmic movements, sharp eyes boring into yours. “Are you gonna ask Daddy to come see me dance?”

The edges of your lips flip up in what you hope to be an encouraging smile as you nod your head. Subconsciously, you begin to stress over another encounter with Namjoon, formulating a script to hopefully avoid the stiff, tense atmosphere that lingered throughout all your previous interactions.

“Daddy’s always really busy,” she slurs, drowsiness coating her words and weighing down on her lids. Grumbling under her breath about her numb legs, Dasom crawls onto the floor beside you with her head resting on your thigh. “He’s always working hard for me.”

Your eyes soften at the fetal position she’s taken up on the ground; not only was Dasom lucky to have such a dedicated father, but Namjoon was also blessed with a caring daughter. “You don’t think he can make it?”

“It’s okay,” she whispers and you have to crane your ears to listen. You stroke the strands littering her forehead, gingerly caressing the crown of her head. “It’s okay if Daddy can’t come. I know him, he’s trying to do it all because Mommy’s not with us anymore, but it’s okay. I still love him even if I can’t see him lots.”

A knot forms between your eyebrows, a bittersweet ache forming within the creases of your heart. The painful constriction of your chest ebbs and flows with your shallow breaths that can’t seem to make it past your throat. You bite your lip to subdue the plentiful liquid gathering at your waterline.

No more than a croak escapes your lips before the door to the studio flies open, meeting the adjacent wall with a bang!

“I’m so sorry, my meeting ran late and I couldn’t—” the rest of his speech gets stuck in his windpipe at the sight of you, eyes rimmed red and sniffling, with Dasom, ostensibly dead asleep, on your thigh. “Did she…?”

You blink away your incoming tears, although your dignity has been completely thrown out the window, seeing as he believes that his four-year-old kid made a grown woman, who just so happens to be her ballet teacher, bawl her eyes out.

As you go to gently shake Dasom awake, she sluggishly lifts her head off of your lap and starts to scale your torso like a koala on a tree. Your confusion is vocalized through the high-pitched hum in your throat, but your efforts to pry off her limbs, tightly wound around the small of your waist, are futile.

“Uh, Dasom? It’s time to go home now, angel.” Despite his firm words, Namjoon’s tone is unsure and shaky; he can feel cold sweat build up in the lines of his palms. He knows his daughter, and she can be periodically stubborn and insistent the way children are at her age, thus even as you come to stand, she’s stuck to you like glue. “Would you, uh, did you need a ride?”

You mimic the sheepish smile on his face, hoping the flaming blush you feel on your cheeks isn’t as visible as it seems. “Sure.”

With Dasom latched onto you, both of you make your way to the red car outside after you lock up the studio. Namjoon courteously opens the car door for you, what with your arms supporting his clingy toddler; although, with the brute force he uses, you worry for the state of the hinges. Thankfully, they stay intact and he’s able to slip into the backseat after you.

Before an awkward silence can settle, you clear your throat and prepare to ask him about his day, but you’re interjected by Namjoon’s sudden stammering, “D-driving’s such a hassle for me so Jin drives us everywhere. Jin knows how to drive though, so, don’t worry.” He finishes with a deep chuckle that dies off nearly as quickly as it began. Oh, that’s unexpected.

“You don’t to drive yourself?” Rather than being processed in your brain and logically thought through, the question immediately enters your mouth without any prior scanning for dumbass-content. You instantly regret it, feeling as though it’s much too invasive. “You don’t have to answer that, I—”

The hearty laughter that meets your ears is “No, I do. Sometimes. But its easier raising this one like this.” His tone turns sweet at the mention of Dasom as he reaches over to pat her head, and you’re overcome with an intense desire to prod more into his personal life. Why does he have to work so much? Which shirt in his closet is his favourite? How does he like his eggs in the morning?

“I’m not sure if you already knew about the annual recital on Saturday, but Dasom’s been practicing really hard for weeks and the kids are all really talented, so it would definitely be worth your time...”

As he’s gazing at his daughter, galaxies of devotion and longing swirl within his cocoa irises. The cool light of the moon shines through the windows of the car, illuminating his sharp jawline and strong brows. You’re absolutely mesmerized by the sight in front of you. “You must be really busy, huh?”

“More than I’d like to be.”

You rip your entranced gaze away from Namjoon, willing yourself to steady your frantic breaths.

The remainder of the ride still drips with awkward tension, although with a definite lighter tone than before. Jin pulls up to your apartment with your direction and you dislodge a sleepy Dasom from your torso, which is much easier now that her limbs have gone slack with sleep. Handing her off to Namjoon, who practically engulfs her tiny form with his broad chest, you rush out of the vehicle with a quick, “See you!”

You slam the door closed before he can say anything, racing into the comfort of your home with your heart in your throat.

The last thing you had expected to do on a Thursday evening was to go to a birthday dinner. Thursdays are your days off, your in-days. The ones you spend lounging on your couch with a face mask and some wine. And yet, here you are.

When you received a text this morning, the last person you had expected it to be was Namjoon. Much less Namjoon asking you to come over for Dasom’s birthday. You weren’t going to say yes, hell, you had thought of downright ignoring it. It was weird, wasn’t it? But Dasom had quickly carved a toddler-shaped hole into your heart. Truly, you had said yes before the message was even typed out.

And so now you stare at the tall apartment building in front of you, definitely feeling more nervous than before. You knew that Namjoon had to be well-off to afford a weekday chauffeur, but damn did you not expect him to be this well-off.

It seemed today was the day to expect absolutely anything.

You enter the opulent building, signing in at the front desk before entering the large, mirrored elevator. The beating of your heart picks up the more floors you pass, and you can’t help but fidget with your appearance. Namjoon had said it would only be you three, which you guessed was supposed to calm your nerves but really, it did anything but that. The mere thought of eating dinner with Namjoon was nerve-wracking. But now you were about to eat dinner and enter his home; you had no fucking clue what you were getting yourself into.

The doors slide open, and you step into the hallway. A single door could be seen at the end of the hallway, so you quickly make your way over. You stop right in front, taking a deep breath in before pushing the doorbell. A beat, a crash, another beat, then-

The door swings open, and your breath catches in your throat.

Namjoon looks heavenly as always, but seeing him in clothes other than his usual black slacks makes your heart do a cartwheel. God, this is dangerous.

“Ms. ____!”

Before Namjoon can form a hello, Dasom is running past him and wrapping her small arms around your legs. “You came! See daddy! I told you she’d come.” her tongue pokes out of her mouth, aimed straight at her father and you stifle a laugh.

“Did he think I wouldn’t?” you ask, eyebrow arched as you glance at Namjoon, who seems to have a permanent pink hue on his face.

“He said you wouldn’t!”

“Oh, really? What else did he say?”

“He said I had to help him clean either way!”

“Alright, Dasom. That’s enough.” He says firmly, clearing his throat and trying to act as unaffected as possible. His eyes shift to meet yours. “Why don’t you come inside?”

As much as this day really sucked for Namjoon, today had been… different. Not all too much. Of course, getting up was the hardest part, but he had decided to make Dasom her favourite breakfast meal instead of her usual cereal. He had also made sure to get her all the toys she had been wanting, and planned their day out to do Dasom’s favourite things. Namjoon just wanted this day to be special for her. That was all he cared about.

But when Dasom had asked him to invite you, he had hesitated.

Dasom had never spent her birthdays with anyone else but Namjoon. Not that it was intentional, but Namjoon liked to have this day just for the both of them. Because that’s how it’s always been. He didn’t know what it was about you that made his daughter talk about you all the time. Or why she wanted to spend a birthday with you. But how could he deny her? And so, the text was sent.

And now, as Namjoon puts away the dishes while you sit on his couch, he realizes he hadn’t thought of her today. Not as much as the years before. Dinner had been so... nice. It felt nice to have someone else around. Namjoon loves Dasom, but he hadn’t realized how distant he had gotten from everything that had once seemed to be the centre of his life.

Namjoon closes the dishwasher, exiting the kitchen and making his way to the living room. He places the two glasses on the table before pouring the dark red liquid.

“I hope you like Merlot.”

“Oh, please. Anything’s fine.”

You take the wine glass, sending him a thank you before taking a drink. “So,” you lean back, “remind me how to play this again.”

“Ms.____ I told you. You have to take a block without knocking the tower over,” Dasom shows you by pushing a middle wooden block out, “then you have to place it on top, like this.'' She places the same block on top of the tower.

“Ah, right! I just need to make sure if I want to win.”

“You can’t! I’m the best!”

“Oh really? And what about you?” you turn, brow raised and eyes playful.

“Pshh,” he scoffs, leaning forward. “Who do you think she takes after?”

He doesn’t think he’s ever lost a game so quickly.

Namjoon watches as you close Dasom’s door quietly from the hallway before you make your way back to the family room. “She’s out like a light. I guess all that tower building got to her.”

Namjoon snorts. He feels oddly disappointed as he watches you gather your things to go. Was it weird that he wanted you to stay? “Do you need me to get you a ride? I can call Jin to drive you home.”

“No, it’s fine! Really! I already ordered an Uber anyway.” You grab your coat near the door. Before Namjoon can unlock the door, you touch his shoulder. “Listen, thank you for inviting me today. I know you probably wanted to spend this day together instead, but I... “ you inhale, because you aren’t sure of what you want to actually say “thank you.”

Would it be weird to say how much better you made today? Probably. “You don’t… have to thank me. I think I should be the one doing the thanking. I really wanted this day to be special for Dasom and you… you definitely helped. So, thank you.”

The door opens, and the light of the hallway fills his dim flat. “Guess we’re even then.” you smile before turning, making your way to the elevator. Namjoon shuts the door once the sight of you is gone, but the smile on his face remains

“Guess we are.” he whispers wistfully

Perhaps stopping at a flower vendor when you’re already running late was a bad idea, but Namjoon wasn’t thinking about time. He had seen the bouquet of flowers and imagined the huge smile that would stretch across Dasom’s face, and that was all he needed to swerve into the left lane.

Now, though, as he anxiously watches the cars in front of him move a foot forward after thirty minutes, he’s sure he should have just left the fucking flowers alone.

Namjoon doesn’t know how long he’s been shifting his eyes from the traffic to the watch ticking around his wrist, but by a miracle, the cars start moving. Slowly, then he’s speeding down the highway, praying to the skies above he’ll make it in time. Even if he arrives in the midst of the dance, he can’t miss this recital. He won’t.

He sighs in relief when he sees the familiar glass building, though it’s cut short when he sees the parking lot. No available place in sight. Fuck. Namjoon is sure he looks insane right now, swerving around the parking lot in search for an empty spot, or really just any fucking spot that looks like it could fit his monster of a car.

Then the clouds seem to open up, and right near the entrance is a vacant spot. Namjoon swears his mouth almost waters at the sight. Quickly speeding around the lot, he parks, but not before flipping off the angry parent who tries to beat him to it. Namjoon exits his car, quickly grabbing his coat and the large bouquets of flowers from the backseat. He runs to the entrance, practically throwing the shriveled paper at the ticket clerk.

Namjoon slows as he nears the theatre doors, taking a deep breath before calmly opening it. He had completely forgotten to book seats in advance, so he’s not surprised to see the velvet seats filled to the brim. When he looks to the stage, he’s relieved to see that there’s still time until Dasom comes on.

Now, Namjoon knows he’s not the most… balanced person. It’s common knowledge that he trips over his feet and knocks things over sometimes. (Oh, but definitely more than the average person.) Now, if you were to ask Namjoon if he pays attention to his surroundings, he'd say yes.

But if you were to ask Namjoon what he tripped over, he wouldn’t know. It doesn’t matter, because now there’s a furious mother with a horrendous bob cut glaring at him, and what he thinks to be a broken camcorder on the floor. The only thing he can manage is an awkward smile and an even more awkward apology. Namjoon offers to give her the cost for repairs, hell, even offers to buy her a new one. The woman snatches the bills from his hands but she doesn’t go back to minding her business like he thought she would. No, instead she starts to argue with him, in the middle of her child’s recital, no less!

Namjoon can’t do anything but stare at her as she blabbers on about how horrible he is for throwing her camcorder on the floor. (Not like it had much life left, that thing looked like it was from 2007.) She’s damn near spitting on his face, and causing other parents to turn around and glare at them. As if it was his fault. Who knew she had such an attachment to the damn thing!

A hand lands on his shoulder, and for a second he’s sure it’s security ready to escort him out of the building. But when he turns, he’s surprised to see it’s you. Like an angel had ascended from the clouds to save Namjoon from the wrath of a ballet mom. And just like that, you’re leading him away, taking a seat two rows before the stage. Namjoon’s eyes widen at the sight of the empty seat beside you.

It’s that feeling again, and Namjoon’s palms start to get sweaty as he takes a seat. “Jesus, thank you for that,” he whispers, relishing your quiet laughter that follows.

“Of course. She was probably a blink away from going full-blown Karen on you.” you tease.

“Oh, and that wasn’t?”

“Oh, Joon, you haven’t seen how angry ballet moms can get.” you both laugh, huddled together as if you’re sharing a special secret. It seems so natural. As if this is where he’s supposed to be. So much that Namjoon almost doesn’t catch the nickname, but how could he miss it when you say it just like she used to?

The stage lights darken, and Namjoon is grateful for the excuse to look elsewhere. He’s sure if he would have stared at you for just a bit longer, he would have done something completely and utterly stupid. “This is her.” you whisper, and Namjoon buries the thought away.

A blue hue shines across the stage before the soft melody begins to play, filling the room with the sounds of strings and keys. One by one, tiny swans begin to come into view, prancing around the stage. Namjoon catches sight of Dasom, looking adorable in her white tutu and he can’t help the proud smile that makes its way onto his face. He watches with adoration as she does her pirouettes, and maybe there’s some water overflowing in his eyes as they finish their dance, bowing towards the audience.

You both stand, clapping and cheering the loudest, uncaring of the stares from the snobby rich parents because you’re both too damn proud of Dasom to care. For a moment, Namjoon pretends that it’s different, simpler. That it’s not only his child on stage but yours. Ours. He thinks he likes the sound of that too much.

Once the show ends, you lead Namjoon backstage where the buzz of dozens of girls talking fills the air. You tell him that you need to check in on the other kids and disappear through a hallway. He spots Dasom quickly, or rather, she spots him.

“Daddy! You came!”

Namjoon lifts Dasom with his free arm, twirling her around before placing a big kiss on her forehead. Her giggles fill him with delight, and he doesn’t care that his cheeks hurt from how hard he’s been smiling. “Of course I came, angel. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He places her on the ground before he grabs the bouquet of sunflowers from his other arm. The sight of her favourite flower makes Dasom jump with joy. She takes the flowers, and Namjoon silently coos at how much smaller they make her look. Then she spots the other bouquet of flowers in his arm. She scrunches her brows together, about to ask who those are for before her eyes catch something behind Namjoon.

“Ms. ____!”

“Dasom!”

Dasom jumps into your arms, and you laugh at her enthusiasm. “You did so well! I’m so proud of that pirouette!” You twirl her around once her feet hit the ground, smiling as you watch her stumble slightly. Namjoon can’t help but smile too.

“Look what daddy got me, Ms. ____! Look!” Dasom lifts the flowers up, almost shoving them into your face.

“Wow, these are very beautiful, Dasom!”

“Look! He got you some too!” she giggles, and you look at her confusedly then at Namjoon. He sighs, looking pointedly at Dasom despite the cherry hue making its way across his cheeks. She giggles once again before running to her friends. “Dasom!” but it's futile.

If it weren’t for the consistent chatter, Namjoon’s sure there would be an agonizing silence to fill the space between you. You walk closer to him, looking down at your shoes bashfully. “Ah, these-” he takes the bouquet from his arm, “these are for you.”

You looked surprised to say the least. Eyes wide and glassy, your mouth falling ajar. “Wow, uh, really?” you ask, glancing up from the bouquet. He nods shyly.

Listen, he had only planned to buy Dasom her favourite flowers. But then he caught sight of these beautiful yellow roses, tips painted a light amber orange. Somehow they reminded him of you. And the way you had left him with his heart feeling lighter for the first time in years the other night. Maybe it was a way of saying thank you. He’ll admit, he didn’t think it all the way through, but the way you’re smiling at him right now makes him think it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.

There’s a moment where it seems to just be you and him, despite the tons of parents and children running around. He’s only focused on you, and the way your eyes drop to his lips, if only for a millisecond. Namjoon wants to say it. God, he wants to say it so badly. “Listen I… I’ve been meaning to ask you,” his voice fades away as his eyes catch yours. Hopeful. Beautiful. Glimmering.

Just like hers.

“Do you, uh, need a ride home?”

And the bubble bursts.

You step away, looking at anything but him and he hates it. He despises it. He wants you to look at him like that again. He wants nothing more than to pull you back and kiss you senselessly, like his mind is screaming for him to do. But he can’t. He can’t do it for some fucking reason and he almost wants to cry in frustration because why can’t this just be easier? Why is it so hard to move on? You don’t deserve this. You deserve so much better than what he can offer you. And that thought keeps him still.

“Uh, sure.”

Quiet.

Say something, idiot! Tell her what you’ve been dying to say! Just fucking say it!

Namjoon hates himself for the next words that tumble out of his mouth.

“Let’s find Dasom.”

The drive to your house is just like it was before, except this time there’s no chatter to fill the emptiness. Dasom is sound asleep in the backseat. You've never seemed more distant than now, facing the window, body pressed against the door. You had almost begged to go in the back with Dasom, and Namjoon doesn’t know why he didn’t just let you.

How did it come to this? This wasn’t what he wanted. This night wasn’t supposed to go like this. Everything should have gone differently.

He doesn’t know how he’ll ever fix this. If things will go back to normal. If he completely ruined it. But he’s too afraid to ask. Too afraid to know.

Namjoon has never hated the quiet more.

The sight of your apartment complex fills him with dread. All he can think about is all he wants to say, all he should have said, all he wants to take back. God, Namjoon wishes he could take it back. If only there was a way to turn back the time. Why had he been so afraid to make a move? Why did it hurt so much? But he knows going back wouldn’t help. Not when he doesn’t know if he would have done it differently.

His car comes to a stop, and the doors unlock. He faintly catches the small thank you before the passenger door slams shut. Namjoon watches as you make your way up the pathway, feet moving briskly and it feels like he’s watching you walk away from him.

You’re shuffling through your bag, looking for your key. And fuck, is he really just going to this go? Is he that stubborn that he can’t see past himself? He can’t. He can’t let you go. Not like this.

Well do something, dumbass!

The door of his car is thrown open, and before he can overthink it-

“____!”

You still. You turn.

Namjoon shuts the door. He walks up the steps and stops a few feet away from you, but he feels like he’s miles away. You look up at him, questioning. Your eyes aren’t the same ones. Not like you looked at him before. Yet they’re still warm. Inviting. Namjoon is tongue-tied, and all those words he wanted to say are gone now.

“Are we… good?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?”

“I just…” he scratches the back of his neck. “That moment back at the recital. I… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” you say, simply. When he looks at you, he can’t tell what you’re feeling. You’ve blocked him off. “Namjoon, really. It’s fine.”

But is it really? He wants to ask. But he doesn’t. It’s quiet again, this time the sound of the wind rustling the browning leaves above filling the space. Still.

“I… god, I don’t know why this is so hard. Ever since, you know,” you don’t. “I… I didn’t think I'd ever get an opportunity to…” he inhales, unsure of what he wants to say first.

“I just feel like I ruined it so carelessly.”

You don’t say anything for a few moments. You only stare at him, really stare at him. Like you can see through his mirage, through the walls he’s spent so long building up. You’re taking it all, but there’s nothing he can take back from you.

“You didn’t.” you whisper it so quietly, Namjoon would have thought his mind had taken pity on him. But a smile slips onto your face. Unlike the other ones. It doesn’t fill him with joy. It doesn’t give him butterflies. This one hurts.

And he knows you’re telling the truth.

“This… It might take a while.”

The wind picks up. The leaves rustle. The cold, biting.

“That’s ok. I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

Your lips are bittersweet on his tongue.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN TO KARLA !! ILYYYY <3

#bangtanhq #btsbookclub #ficswithluv #btsguild #btsgoldnet #cypherwritersnet #namjoon x reader #namjoon angst #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon x you #bts x reader #namjoon fanfic

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yelenasdog · 4 years ago

Text

it was a pleasure to burn (spencer reid x fem bau!reader)

genre: fluff i think even though the name is v angsty LOL it’s a literal screenplay with the amout of dialogue i wrote LMAO so idk

summary: a particularly rough and disturbing case gets to reader, and spencer and reader are brought together by this.

words: just about 6k (my longest fic ahhHH)

warnings: typical criminal minds gore and violence just up a notch, they get on a plane at the end, somebody gets ~shot~, somebody gets ~bonked~, cursing, mentions of reid’s addiction, and i think that’s it. also the reader wears reading glasses but that’s the only predetermined factor of appearance. btw i don’t think i used any pronouns in this but i apologize if i’m wrong.

a/n: LMFAO i was outside awhile ago celebrating litha with a nice lil hike and i saw a butterfly and i had just started watching cm and was like hMMm... killer who’s obsessed with symmetry??!1??!? y Es. enjoy 😼 EDIT: THERE IS SO MANY PLOT HOLES OMG FBREHJBFHEJFRE IM RBFBRE

🂦∙🂦∙🂦

Present Day, Central Park, New York

“Aren’t they just stunning?” The unsub spoke, keeping her eyes trained on the butterfly sitting happily on her finger. The brightly colored creature fluttered off her hand that was dripping scarlet, flying around her curly head of brown hair. Her, formerly white, blood-stained dress flowed around her as she followed it, watching in awe as it soared about. She giggled, plopping down on the grass in the middle of a circle of her victim’s pale, lifeless bodies, all of them with ironically morbid butterflies resting upon the frail skin of the corpses.

“Aren’t they, agents?”

She slanted her green eyes, gripping the grass a little harder. I flicked my tongue over my lips nervously, looking over to the lanky man on my left. He simply shrugged, just about as sure of how to handle the situation just as much as I was.

“If I knew you all were coming, I would have cleaned up, I really would have, I promise.”

We slowly walked towards her, twigs and leaves crunching under our feet. It could have been comparable to a hunter stalking its prey, but it unfortunately was quite the opposite.

6 days earlier, Quantico, Virginia

“3 bodies, all found within the last 48 hours in rural New York. So far, the first body has revealed that although it was dumped upstate, the victim was murdered in the city, and the same most likely goes for the other bodies as well. Nails well manicured, no drugs in the system. They aren't junkies, we’re dealing with upper class citizens.”

My face contorted as I took the photos from Reid’s hands, his large and tanned one surprising me by how soft it felt as it accidentally brushed against mine. I blushed like a madman, looking to see him doing the same thing. I cleared my throat getting Rossi’s attention.

“Why are we only now hearing of this?” I questioned, flipping through the images as I did so, my confusion only growing. I didn’t recieve an answer, leaving my curiosity to bloom.

“Wait, how did you say they were killed again?”

Morgan looked up, taking the photos from me. “He didn’t.”

I sighed, pushing my glasses up on my nose.

“Is there at least any correlation between the bodies and the butterflies?”

Our attention was shifted to JJ, the resident expert on the insects.

“Actually, the ones being found with the bodies are from the Amarynthis family, all native to Latin America. They weren’t there by accident so yes, they’re somehow related.”

Rossi stood up, grabbing his coat.

“Well, none of this is nearly enough for a profile, so pack your bags and tell the others, wheels up in an hour. We’re headed to New York.”

4 days earlier, F.B.I. Field Office, New York, New York

“The final report from the latest victim is in, all the autopsies are clean. They show no signs of struggles, no marks, no blood, no anything. The eyes weren’t bloodshot, so suffocation is ruled out, and that was our best bet.”

I sighed, sliding the case file across the glass table to Spence as I took my seat, sinking into it and allowing myself to be consumed by its warmth.

“So what your saying is that we’re back at square one.”

I looked up at Hotch from where I sat, running my hand through my ponytail.

“Yeah. That’s what I’m saying.”

Just then, the young Doctor spoke up as he flipped through the pages.

“The eyes weren’t just not bloodshot, there was barely any blood left in any of the victims bodies, only about 3% of the volume left. The killer drained them.”

Morgan gave me a shocked expression, silently asking for an explanation.

“Which you failed to mention, Y/n.” Aaron spoke, agitation once again present in his voice.

I looked at the ceiling, crossing my arms in front of me before turning to face Hotch once more.

“Yeah, well, I thought it was obvious when I said no blood.” I stuttered out cautiously.

“On the bodies! Not in the bodies!” Morgan exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air in what was in my opinion, very childish. Everyone else in the room aside from Spencer was either shaking their heads or pinching the bridge of their noses, and reasonably so.

“Look, I’m sorry I just didn’t see it in the report, plus, In the scheme of things, it just doesn’t seem to matter.”

I soon regretted my words, realizing how ill-fit they were for the current conversation I was having. Spencer looked up, tilting his head.

“Doesn’t seem to matter? How? There’s an endless amount of possibilities now that we know this. If we had known it sooner we probably could have figured out the pattern and caught the one doing this!” He harshly spewed, his voice acting like a crescendo of sorts, quiet and calm and moving towards a loud and violent tone. Tears began to prick at the corners of my eyes and I was starting to feel guilty, not to mention absolutely stupid as could be.

“I’m- I really am sorry guys, truly.”

Hotch locked eyes with me, taking a stern tone that one would usually take with a disobedient child, perhaps even Jack.

“I hope that’s a comfort to you when another body shows up. That’s their blood on your hands.”

I was frozen, the gravity of the situation taking its toll.

In the background I heard him say something to Morgan about a new profile having to be made as there were many new things to be known from this revelation. But it all went in one ear and out the other, just unpleasant white noise.

As I clumsily stumbled out of the room, I felt Reid’s eyes burning holes into the back of my brain. I was quick to turn my head to meet his glance, causing him to look down. I felt bad, the weight on my chest growing heavier from the interaction.

I sat down at my desk, turning on my computer and immediately going to google. I typed in “hypnosis” and let the info trickle in.

About 30 minutes later, I still felt absolutely horrible, but I had also put together a valuable profile in the time that had passed. I shut the newly finished file, blowing an abandoned strand of hair out from my eyes. I had to do a double take when I saw Spencer staring once more, his deep hazel eyes meeting my own. I gave him a small smile before standing up and walking to Hotch’s makeshift New York office. I pushed open the heavy door, placing the folder on his too-clean desk.

“What’s this?” He asked, taking it in his hands.

“My theory about the unsub. I think I know what she’s been doing. You can tell the team if you want, I’m not sure if they would wanna hear it from me. ”

He gave a small smile, pushing the file back over to me.

“You get the team together and I’ll get the local PD caught up. You tell them yourself.”

A few minutes later, everyone except for Reid had gathered in the meeting room. I peeked through the half closed blinds that allowed a line of vision to his desk in an attempt to locate him. He was positioned there, staring blankly at his laptop that appeared to have nothing on the screen. I knocked on the window lightly to catch his attention, his glazed over eyes looking in my direction. I tilted my head at him, silently beckoning him to join me. He only shook his in response, shaggy brown locks swaying back and forth. I sighed, frowning at his action. I turned to the group, clasping my hands in front of me.

“Everyone, this will just be a second if you’ll excuse me.”

With a raised eyebrow from Hotchner and a jab in the direction of Spencer’s workspace, I swiftly walked out of the crowded room.

“Spence, care to join us?” I asked, resting one of my hands against my hip, the other on his orderly desk.

“No, I don’t think I will. I need to try to figure this out before she finds her next victim.”

“What makes you think the unsub is a she?” I searched his eyes that had seemingly become brighter at my piqued interest in his hypothesis.

“Well, the unsub seems to be obsessed with symmetry, all the bodies being found in obscure yet symmetrical positions. This could suggest she had some sort of deep rooted insecurity, possibly from some sort of bullying from growing up in a small town where she was looked at as a superior for subpar looks. She moved to the big city, expecting a big break. Instead she was shunned for being less than average. She grew frustrated and as a result, she began her killing spree. The stresser could have been one too many insults that made her snap. Plus, that would account for the butterflies left on the scenes that are used in modern examples of both femininity and symmetry.”

I smiled widely at his words.

“What- why are you smiling, what are you smiling at?”

I tapped his desk, rolling my bottom lip between my teeth. I headed back towards the conference room, looking over my shoulder.

“Because, I’m glad we’re on the same page, Dr.”

——————

“So, our girl, as Dr. Reid has explained to us, is obsessed with her appearance. She’s an organized killer, no mistakes and no signs of blood or anything of the sort on scene. She has practice, she does this sort of thing every day. She is most likely in the age group of 23-30, and has a job in the cosmetic industry, our guess is in plastic surgery. She probably volunteers weekends at local butterfly sanctuaries or zoos, finding comfort in their perfection that those in her life, or formerly in her life, cannot and could not provide.”

“Which would explain to her easy access to non-native species of the insects. She has an absolute infatuation with symmetry, which yet again, links the butterflies on the crime scene to her MO.”

Spencer and I were vividly explaining our shared theory to the team, as well as local law enforcement. He was excited by his discovery and the lead on the killer, and his energy was contagious.

“She kills without remorse and out of jealousy, picking victims who all have one thing in common.”

Spence pointed to all of the images pasted on the board in the center of the room, all of them split in half and reflected, creating a perfect mirrored portrait.

“They all have perfectly symmetrical faces, as well as strong jawlines and high cheekbones. As most of these victims are models or those searching to start a modeling career, we believe she is luring them in with a photographer trope, promising to make their dreams come true.”

I nodded, taking a moment to study Reid’s own sharp yet somehow soft features. I allowed my eyes to wander over his sunken in, kind, and curious eyes; his pillowy pink lips that are in dire need of some chapstick.

“Agent?”

I turned my head, snapped back to reality by Rossi calling my name.

I gave a tight and quick smile, returning to the topic at hand and tactics to catch the unsub. But of course not before Emily gave me a crooked smile, resulting in me rolling my eyes.

“Physically, she’s nothing special, most likely a mundane appearance or one with quite obvious surgical changes. No in between. Check all of the plastic surgeon offices in the area for both employees who fit our description, as well as a patient who has gotten any serious facial mod operations. Do the same for any weekend volunteers at local zoos and animal sanctuaries, specifically working with any insects.”

It was an NYPD officer then that spoke up this time, raising her hand briefly.

“But, you still haven’t mentioned how she’s killing them?”

“Hypnosis.” Reid and I both spoke at the same time. He looked to his black Converse, sliding his hands into his pockets. I observed the room and all of the skeptical faces filling it.

“Even if it may sound far fetched, we saw no signs of anything that indicated a struggle or even any marks or wounds. This led us to believe that some form of hypnosis was used to allow her an easy kill. This means extra caution will have to be taken when actually handling the unsub. Even though we’re positive she’s using hypnosis, which method she is using to actually kill them after the fact is what we’re unsure of.”

I turned to Spencer, handing off the explanation to him.

“We think that because of her whole thing with symmetry, she wouldn’t want to disturb the natural state of the victims and their faces, even if she would do the same to her own.”

“Which means?” JJ asked, her blue eyes slanted and glossed lips left ajar.

“It means that the unsub wouldn’t want to leave any large marks like stab or gunshot wounds.” I nodded at Prentiss, who had made the assumption, confirming she was correct.

“With her presumed background in plastic surgery, we believe she was able to make small incisions that made no visible scars. We’re having the coroner look back over the bodies as we speak.”

“She drains the body’s blood 97% of the way before closing the holes up. What she does with the blood, we don’t know. Another Eddie Mays, perhaps.”

I looked over to Spencer, raising my brows at his comparison. He was quick to defend himself, shaking his hands left to right and mouthing “No” while simultaneously shaking his head the same way, something he seemed to be doing often as of late.

After we had finished consulting with any officers who had remaining questions, we branched off to conduct our own routine investigations. We found that the only thing they all had in common apart from the symmetrical faces, is that they all had visited the Central Park Zoo in the 24 hours before they were killed. We received a phone call from Garcia not long after we put together those pieces, being alerted that there was one girl who had, in her words, “Hit every mark there was to hit, sunshine.”

“Her name is Alessia Copelas, she works weekdays as a surgeon's assistant at Premier Cosmetic, and weekends at Central Park Zoo from 4-8 p.m.”

I smiled at the new info from the blonde bombshell known as Penelope, turning to Reid who was still looking at me quizzically.

“Alright, thanks babes, you’re the best.” I spoke into the phone, a comical “Mwah!” made from either side as we hung up.

He shook his head, keeping the odd look on his face.

“I swear, you guys have a weirder relationship than her and Morgan.”

I laughed, sliding my phone into my back pocket.

“Oh, please, Spence.” I gingerly placed a hand on his cheek, patting it twice.

“You’re just jealous.” I made a pouty face, letting my hand linger before walking off. “Come on, we’re going on a field trip.”

“Where to?” He asked, gripping the door frame, using it as leverage to swing himself closer to me. He took long and quick strides, catching up to me in no time.

“You like animals, right?”

———————

4 Days Earlier, Central Park Zoo, New York

As soon as we entered the zoo, our ears were filled with the sounds of the loud screeches of birds and monkeys alike. Reid covered his ears, cringing and making his displeasure known with an “Ahh!”

I smiled at his geeky behavior, admiring the animals in the enclosures. I paid special attention to a particularly impressive species of tarantula, leaning down to admire them. A few moments later I looked to my left and saw Spencer doing the same thing.

“Did you know that arachnids have asthma which is why they don’t run for extended periods of time, similarly to cheetahs?”

“Yes I did.”

His face scrunched up in an adorable manner, causing an involuntary giggle to fall past my lips.

“Well did you know that-“

“Ma’am?”

I turned to see a young woman with flaming red hair and a freckled face smiling at me, her green collared uniform top complimenting her eyes of a different shade wonderfully.

“Oh, hi, I’m Agent Y/l/n and this is Dr. Reid, we’re with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI.”

Her expression shifted to a more confused one, her smile not leaving her face.

“What can I do for you two?”

“Is there an Alessia Copelas that works here, maybe volunteers on the weekends?” Spencer asked, his puppy dog eyes immediately warranting a response.

“Yeah, she volunteers here, she seems nice. Is she helping with an investigation?”

“Well we think that she may have some part in a series of murders.”

Her smile disappeared this time, turning into a cement frown as panic flooded her body.

“Oh God, was she- Is she a killer? Have I been working with a killer for all this time? I mean, I never had any shifts with her but from what I heard I thought she was so sweet-“

“Look,”

Reid glanced down to her name tag that read “Lillian” before meeting her eyes. His tongue darted out, licking his lips, a nervous habit of his I’d picked up on.

“Lillian, we aren’t sure if she’s the killer we just needed to get a feel on her and get some information regarding her personal life.”

She started frantically nodding her head, more trying to convince herself she was okay rather than ourselves. I looked over her shoulder at some exhibits, thinking to myself how this would end up being a waste of our time if this poor girl couldn’t get a grip on herself.

I was soon proven wrong when I looked over to see a young girl wearing an identical uniform to Lillian, probably somewhere between 23 and 24. She had untamed chocolate locks with bangs that stopped just above the shoulder, blemishes covering her T-Zone, and a rounded face to go with it.

The cherry on top? Under her arm she carried a small enclosure with what appeared to be amarynthis meneria, the same butterflies found on the victims.

I tapped Reid on the shoulder once as discreetly as possible, catching his attention. I heard him mutter a small “Oh God” before he told Lillian to walk away calmly and quickly. She ignored his request, turning to look at Alessia, letting out a blood curdling scream and sprinting the other direction.

“Shit.” I cursed, beginning to walk towards Alessia, Spencer by my side. I smiled at her, trying to appear friendly. Reid spoke up as we got closer.

“Hello, do you by any chance-“

wham!

“Spence!” I exclaimed, reaching down to help him up from where he had fallen from being whacked by the 4’2 pyscho that was Alessia Copelas.

“Did she get away?”

I turned to see her gone, the only sign she was even here being the forming bruise on the Dr’s face.

“Yeah. She did. I’m sorry, Reid, that was really stupid of me.” He shook his head, running his own hand over the raw skin.

“It’s fine, I would have done the same for you.” He looked up, and I wasn’t sure if it was my school-girl esque crush on him or the fact I just had another experience with a serial killer, but my heart was racing nonetheless.

————————

F.B.I. Field Office, New York, New York, 1 Day Earlier

The stress levels in the room were high.

Despite our best efforts, several more bodies had been found, New York’s narcissists were in a state of panic, and the spirits of the BAU were down to say the least.

“What? Are you kidding me?” I exclaimed, looking at Hotch in disbelief.

He rolled his chocolate eyes, fanning the folder containing the new information we had gathered on Alessia.

“I wish I was, Y/n. She’s off the grid completely, her apartment is empty, phone and credit cards have been deactivated, and the surgeon’s office hasn’t heard from her for 5 days. And the media has decided to give her the name ‘Butterfly Baron’, so she’s probably been fueled even further. We need a new lead before she strikes again.”

I scoffed, standing up and pushing my chair away.

“This is unbelievable. How many times do we have to reinforce the idea to local PD! Especially when the unsub is a self absorbed psycho, do not give them a name! God, I really cannot fathom this.”

I reached up, letting my hair down from where I had messily thrown it up upon my arrival to work that morning.

I stormed out of the room, my heels clicking behind me. I ignored Hotch’s calling of my name, making my way to the closest restroom.

I went in, locking the door behind him. I ran my hands through my roots, tugging just enough to where it hurt.

Turning the water to the left all the way, I splashed it from the stream leaving the faucet on to my face. I scratched my fingernails against the skin, wiping away the tears that had escaped.

“This is all your fault, y/n.” I whispered at myself in the mirror, doing my absolute best to engrain the message in my brain. I had my head hung in shame when a knock rang out.

“Y/n?”

It was Spencer. My mind started going a million miles a minute, thinking about why he could be there. With my voice raised a few octaves, I tried to scrape up a response.

“I’ll be out in a few, Spence.”

It was quiet for a split second, leaving me to foolishly dance around the idea that he had left me to wallow in my sorrowful thoughts.

“Y/n, Hotch wanted me to check on you. Are you ok?”

My heart slightly sank at the idea that he might’ve just come to check on me because he himself was worried. I discarded the thought, bringing myself back.

“Y/n can you please answer me? If you don’t open the door I’m gonna send in JJ or Emily.”

I sighed, wiping under my eyes where my mascara had smudged, begrudgingly walking over to the door. Just as my hand landed on the silver handle, his voice that was constantly playing in my head echoed out once more.

“Y/n, please? I need to know you’re okay. I’ll come in there myself.”

A soft smirk graced my face as I turned the handle to reveal a worried looking Spencer.

“Y/n, oh God, you had me worried.”

He was quiet when he spoke and his hair looked messy, like he had been running his slender fingers through it in a stress filled state.

I sniffled, attempting to still keep back tears that were still threatening to spill.

“I’m alright, Spencer. Really, I’m fine.”

He gave me a small smile, his eyes meeting my own.

“I know, it’s just that when I had my Diludad problem,” he hesitated.

“I would lock myself in bathrooms to shoot up, and I know you aren’t having a problem like that but I just was worried about you- what are you doing?”

I cut off his rambling by throwing my arms around his middle. He tensed, but quickly melted. He wrapped his strong arms around my shoulders and my waist, laying his head on mine.

“Y/n, I promise you, you’re doing your absolute best to stop Alessia. We wouldn’t even be where we are right now if you hadn’t made the connections. Those deaths are not your fault.”

My tears finally began to cascade like a waterfall, staining his shirt.

“I know, but it’s just like it is all my fault! I could have paid closer attention, or-or, I could have went after her at the zoo, it’s all my fucking fault, Reid.”

I sobbed into his shirt, my hand gripping his shirt like my life depended on it. Like if I let go I would fall into a deep, deep, endless hole.

His hand on my waist moved up to cradle my head.

“It’s not, I promise you-“

He was cut off mid sentence by the ringing of his phone.

“I am so, so sorry-”

I pulled away, breifly touching under my nose with my wrist, then moving a hair behind my ear.

“Nope, it’s fine, don’t worry.” Our words almost had overlapped each other as we clambered to fight the tension that had risen. I closed my eyes, tilting my head up, thinking about how unprofessional yet intimate our previous position had been. How wrong, yet how right it felt.

I kept running the moment through my head, the feeling of his warm figure encasing mine on replay.

His phone call played as background noise to the film playing in my brain, his voice calming me to an extent.

“Yeah, we’re on our way. Thanks, Morgan.”

He closed the phone with a snap, also snapping me out of my trance, putting the movie on pause.

“They’ve got a hit. Copelas was seen dropping by her old apartment.”

And for the first time since that Goddamn case had started, I smiled genuinely.

“Let’s go get her.”

————————

15 Minutes Prior, Central Park, New York

“Hotch?”

“Yes?” He looked back from where he was driving, following our lead in a rushed manner.

“What will we do if she...” I trailed off.

“Hypnotizes one of us?” He finished for me. I nodded solemnly.

The look on his face was conflicted and it took him a moment to come up with a response.

“We kill her before we have to kill one of our team members.”

He saw a look of uncertainty on my face and spoke up once more.

“And that’s an order.”

I nodded again, making eye contact with him through the rear view mirror. I fell back into my seat, closing my eyes briefly.

After a few more minutes on the road, we had arrived.

The doors all slammed to the SUVs, one after the other as we stepped out.

“The letter said that she would be here, somewhere here.”

The voice of Morgan was channeling through my earpiece, referring to the letter found at her apartment that she had left just for us.

“We ordered evac on citizens, correct?”

The unsure voice of JJ was also heard through the earpiece, her uncertainty quite unusual to hear.

“Yes, it was the first thing we did, Jayj.”

I whispered, a sly smirk from Spencer forming at my behavior.

“Oh shut up.”

“I didn’t even say anything!”

snap!

Our senses adapted, becoming dialed to 11 at the sound of a twig snapping under someone's feet.

“Was that you?” I mouthed to Spencer. He shook his head no and I silently cursed to whatever force was listening.

I nodded, which he then reciprocated, the pair of us slowly walking towards the source of the sound after he did.

“They’re going to remember me, I’ll go down in history.”

The voice was sing-songy and quiet, floating through the air. I took a shaky breath, continuing my steady pace.

My breathing momentarily halted soon after.

Different variations of “Oh my God”s, and loud gasps from almost everyone on the team flooded my ear canal at the horrifying sight in front of us.

Red. So much of it.

“Guys, I think we know what she’s been doing with the bodies’ blood.”

“No shit.” I muttered under my breath.

She was bathed in the blood, it looked like something straight out of a horror movie.

“Alright everyone, I want you to approach her as quietly as possible, Morgan, if you get the chance, corner her.”

Hotch’s voice was a stark contrast to her own, Derek’s response all the same.

—————————

Present Day, Central Park, New York

“But Agents, you still haven’t answered my question. They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

“Alessia Copeleas, FBI, come on, get up, lets go.”

Derek’s voice was stern, not asking, but demanding that Alessia come with us.

“I’m afraid I just can’t do that, Agents.”

She stood up abruptly, causing all of our weapons to rise. The sun reflected off of the silver metal of Reid’s gun, sparkling in a stunning way that caught me off guard.

We all were trying to act as if we were in total control of the situation, but we could tell that us nor Copelas really believed that. Her words were her weapon, and this was the one time where words could hurt, but sticks and stones had virtually no power.

“Take another step and we will have no hesitation to fire.”

She smirked, rolling her eyes.

“If you do, will I be famous you think? You think they’ll hear about me back home?”

Her curls softly blew in the wind, making her appear almost harmless, maybe even endearing, if it wasn’t for the hardening coat of human blood soaking her clothes and seeping from her skin.

“Is that what you want? The kids back home and everyone here to hear about you? You want ‘Butterfly Baron’ written on every billboard in Times Square, your picture painted in museums, films to be made in your honor?” Reid was the one who spoke up this time, his voice remaining strong. Her eyes shone with a sickening excitement at what he said.

“You want to be famous?”

She nodded vigorously.

“Too bad.”

My eyes widened, surprised at the detour the conversation had taken.

“What-what do you mean?”

“Please, the only thing people will hear about is a sad, boring little girl from a small town who killed to feel better about herself. They’ll forget about you in a week, who knows, maybe they’ll even grow an infatuation with your town, someone you went to school with may get as lucky as to catch their big break!” He laughed, while Alessia looked absolutely devastated.

“You? You’ll be a nobody.”

“That’s not true! I’ll go down in history, and they won’t! I’m the fucking butterfly baron for hells sake! All these people?” She gestured towards her field of bodies.

“You won’t remember their names, maybe not even their pretty faces, but me? I’ll live forever.”

Her nostrils flared and she strode over to Reid with purpose. The safety on my glock clicked off, but Spencer motioned for me to wait. So I did.

“You know, Agent-“

“It’s Doctor.”

This visibly agitated her even more as she started her sentence over again.

“Doctor, you have a beautiful bone structure. Absolutely perfect. Symmetrical, not to mention just flat out stunning.”

A glaze formed over Spencer’s honey eyes at her words. He lowered his gun momentarily before turning towards me, Copelas doing the same.

“And you, Agent. Wow. I feel like I’m in an art exhibit, you’re gorgeous. I think the Doctor man here would agree.”

As he lifted his revolver at me, the situation became all too real as I understood what was happening.

I either had to shoot the man that I was struggling to admit I was beginning to love, or died at the hands of the very same man.

Tears flooded my eyes, all safeties were turned down, and all guns were pointed at Reid.

“Spence, please.”

My voice was weak, something that seemed to bring Alessia lots of joy.

She laughed before talking again, commanding Spencer.

“Pathetic, really! Spence”, she mocked,“shoot her.”

“No!”

bang!

whack!

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

Present Day, Somewhere In The Sky, The Jet

I opened my eyes from where I had been tackled to the ground by Hotch, surveying my surroundings to see Alessia laying on the grass, the source of her gunshot wound non-distinguishable from the previous blood on her body.

I looked to the right to see where Spencer had crumpled to, his frame bent in a discombobulated position.

“Spencer!” I cried out, crawling over to him like some sort of dog,

“What happened to him?”

“Y/n, he was going to shoot you-“

“I don’t care you should have let him!”

I cradled his head in my lap, allowing my pent up tears to fall.

“Y/n?”

My eyes snapped open for real this time, my mind calmed at the sight of Spencer sitting next to me on the couch, gently shaking my shoulder in an attempt to wake me from my nightmare.

“Spencer! Sorry, was I too loud?”

He chuckled, gesturing to the rest of the sleeping plane around us.

“You’re fine, I wasn’t sleeping, I decided to reread ‘Fahrenheit 451’ for nostalgia purposes. And you weren’t that loud, you just looked like you were having a bad dream.”

I chuckled at the not-so outlandish idea in an attempt to diminish it from his mind and move on.

“I’m fine. But fun fact, I did have nightmares after reading ‘The Veldt’. Seriously, I don’t get how you can just reread Bradbury’s stuff all the time.”

The genius scoffed, starting a rant on how Ray Bradbury’s storytelling was just classic literature and deserved to be reread, thus successfully changing the topic as I hoped my statement would. Although soon after, he caught on much quicker than I would have liked him to.

“And not to mention, The Veldt alone could be seen as a forewarning to the 21st century and beyond, even Bradbury himself supported that interpretation-‘

I gave him a tired smile, enjoying his rambling like I always did.

“-and you totally just got me to change the subject.”

“I was wondering when you were gonna catch up.”

“Hey!”

He laughed as I rested my head on my hand, trying to fall back asleep.

“Really, I can tell those nightmares are bad. What’s going on?” He questioned, his tone empathetic and compassionate.

“It’s nothing, Reid. I just keep seeing in the park, when Alessia got shot and you-you got hurt but instead of getting up like you did in real life, you just…”

I trailed off, not wanting to relive the negative dream any longer for fear of the tears that were pricking my eyes escaping.

“It’s okay, that didn’t happen, I’m right here.”

He pulled me into a hug, allowing me to bury my head in the crook of his neck, his warmth consuming me once more, a sequel to the film from earlier.

“I know, but what if it hadn’t?” I asked as I pulled away.

He shook his head, reaching for his wallet.

“In this job, this course of work, we can’t focus on ‘what if’s’. In this job, we also get nightmares, all of us. It happens.”

He slid a picture over to me, it was of a happy family. The edges were worn from years of being carried, but the picture seemed loved.

“Gideon gave me that when my nightmares started. He told me about how those families we save everyday, and how that’s what makes what we do worth it. And I know you didn’t know Gideon personally, or the work on the specific case with that family, but I want you to have it anyway-“

I cut him off by throwing my arms around his neck, attempting to speak despite being muffled by his fluffy sweater.

“Thank you, Spence. Truly.”

I smiled, and I imagined he was doing the same.

“No problem y/n. Anytime.”

I moved my legs over to be tucked underneath my arms, leaning into Reid. He wrapped his arm around me, also leaning in. We both managed to fall asleep for the remainder of the ride in our state of content, but not before he managed to sleepily call out my name.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“When we land do you wanna go on a date or somethin’?”

I smiled at him, separating from his form just long enough to see that beautiful face of his.

“Without a doubt.”

🂦∙🂦∙🂦

AHAHAHHAHAHAHA I’M WAY TOO HAPPY WITH THAT LMAOOO but anyway chile-

i don’t have some long ass paragraph to write this time omg wig, i’m just proud asf of my work for once (except for the zoo part ngl kinda didn’t like it😳)

😛✨vibes✨ love u, xx hj

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dizzyingflicker · 3 years ago

Text

frigid air (fic commentary)

literally no one asked for this but hello! hi! if you didn’t know, i wrote a 11 chapter fic called ‘frigid air’ a few weeks back. the fic started as jayhoon centric, but it kinda got off the rails from there hehe

the birth of the idea

so the bri from a few weeks ago was already thinking about writing a lengthy enha au.

i just finished writing a jakehoon one shot and wanted to try my hand at writing another ship! at first, i thought of typical au ideas that were college themed. those are the most fun to write and read imo, bc it’s so grounded in reality. and also bc the jakehoon one shot i wrote was a lot heavier and angsty, which was something i think i’m better at doing! there’s this really great fic i read that inspired me to try my hand at some lighter themes!

after reading that au, i was like “hmmmm im gonna try writing some romcom type of stuff.” i always ALWAYS write angst, so this was a really nice and fun change!

yes, back to the college au ideas. i then began to think about what majors the enha kids would do if they went to college. my notes for the first outline kind of went like this:

Jay - fashion major, new addition to the dorm, is rich but doesnt want anyone to know, is kind despite being taken advantage of in his hometown, just wants a normal family

Heeseung - music production major, has a soundcloud lowkey but doesn't let anyone know, is going thru his first real heartbreak and is using music to deal with it

Jungwon - hasnt decided on a major, came to uni w a full ride taekwondo scholarship, secret boyfriend, coming to terms w sexuality

Jake - australian exchange student, architecture major, maybe gets a weird stalker?

Sunoo - beauty school, wants to be a hairstylist, kinda eccentric, knows everyone’s business

Sunghoon - figure skater, doesnt go to school, is close to getting on the national team, lives in a dorm to avoid his tiger parents, softspot for his younger sister

Niki - dance major from japan, is a little too clingy, feels lonely away from his family

in hindsight, the characters here seem a lot more deeper and fleshed out as compared to what i ended up writing, but i realized that if i kept all of this in - it would’ve been really overwhelming for the reader. i had to remind myself that this was a jayhoon centric fic LMAOOOOO

after writing this, i was like “WAITTTT A HOT SEC” this sounds a lot like hello my twenties! which btw, is an amazing show on netflix that you should definitely watch. i watched this show with my girlfriend and man, the way it handled all of the a,b,c, etc plots was so fantastic.

every character had their own stories and that’s what i loved. usually in fics or aus, a lot of the side characters sort of fade into the background. they also do this thing where their main reason for existence is to lift the mc or main ship up in the story. i wanted to avoid that, so taking inspo from hello my 20s, i decided to give every character a story. whether it be something big like sunoo’s stalker or something small like heejake’s and jungniel’s development, i wanted to give them all something to tell. in hello my 20s, each of the girs living in that house had their own unique stories that fit them really well. whether i did it as well as the writers of the show - that’s something else to unpack, right?

the characters and their developments

so this is something i’m not sure if i did well in or not. the original plot was to have jay and sunghoon not get along at all. with jay’s abrasiveness and sunghoon’s surface coolness, i thought it would be fun to see them butt heads. but i realized that it wasn’t so realistic because they don’t really see each other enough to butt heads that much. i thought making sunghoon shy and reserved (thus standoffish) while jay tries his best to make sunghoon open up was a lot more cuter.

jay is a lot more bold in this, even through his embarassing moments. he’s self-assured, determined and open to pretty much anything. he’s generous and friendly. the only weakness jay has is he’s too presumptious sometimes and assumes stuff without any real basis, as seen with him assuming that ryujin and sunghoon were dating bc of a passing remark from jake and some yt comments. i gave him a dead dad at the end of the fic bc hello we’re projecting but also to explain why he’s super close to his mum and why he’s just a tad bit behind everyone else his age. i wanted to expand on this a little but sadly, i kinda ran out of words to talk about this. if you know what i mean. tbh, jay doesn’t have much of a development in this. that’s something i really want to improve on in my next au, giving my mc some actual development instead of getting carried away with other side characters.

sunghoon is, as i said, shy and reserved. he has a lil trauma from being rejected by seon years ago. you can tell that his experience was not pleasant at all - so he keeps feelings of attraction and want farrrrrr away from him. sunghoon is sorry he’s an anti-romantic, if you will. throughout this fic, you see him open up to jay and realize that not every guy he’s attracted to will reject him painfully. he also learns that he doesn’t need to keep people at an arms length away and that opening himself up to more people will bring about very nice things! very cliche but hey, it iz what it iz.

jungwon was a fun one to write! not bc i feel a little of what he feels, but bc he’s adorable with daniel and having him be unsure was fun to write. jungwon is pretty self-assured in this fic, but with daniel, he’s not really sure what he’s doing.

heeseung feels secure enough with jake that he’s willing to sing in front of him, which is something he doesn’t do. jake is very naive about relationships and hee’s feelings for him, but heeseung kind of brings him down back to reality with the scene from han river. heeseung is getting over a breakup and that stuff takes a while, so that’s why i didn’t let them get together too fast. hee knows how jake feels about him and he doesn’t want to ruin it by jumping into things so fast.

sunoo is super friendly and too trusting with people, which is both a blessing and a curse. niki and him have been attached to the hip since their friendship started and niki sees sunoo as a very very dear friend to him. bc who else lets him sleep in his bed and who else buys him taiyaki everyday? that’s right, it’s his sunoo hyung. sunoo also cares for niki a lot and they’re just very sweet.

what i did well and what i didn’t

okay this is debatable, but i did like how i wrote the developing relationships in this, mostly the ones that weren’t the main jayhoon arc. i liked the way i wrote jungwon and daniel’s little friction and i loved heejake’s confession scene.

the humour in this was a little weak for me, but it was my first attempt at writing it so it’s forgivable.

i just wished i wrote the main relationship better. i feel like it took a while at the beginning and suddenly went from 49 to 27403 real quick. if i were to rewrite it, i’d give them a lot more time to pine as that stage before friends and maybe insert more conflict.

i’d give jay a stronger conflict other than trying to befriend with sunghoon. his character felt very 1d for me and i didn’t like that. i needed to develop him more tbh LMAOOO

music!

anti-romantic by txt

perhaps love by eric nam ft cheeze

love poem by iu

give love by akmu

hope ur ok by olivia rodrigo

only yoou by yand da il

references for sunghoon’s ice skating

sunghoon’s white outfit in the youtube video with ryujin

sunghoon’s black outfit in nationals

the reference pic jay draws of sunghoon (which seon sees)

if you read the fic, i’d like to say thank you! i had a lot of fun writing this and seeing everyone’s reactions to the plot twists was super fun hehehehe i genuinely loved doing it even tho it gave me a lot stress! thank u for reading this if u read it too LMAOOOOO

#woundinsalt thots #frigid air #enhypen au

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therewas-a-girl · 5 years ago

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Shipwrecks, Of the Wretched, de profundis ALL OF THE QUESTIONS

the

you think i will be intimidated by this BUT CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!!!! *cracks knuckles*

Shipwrecks

1. What inspired you to write the fic this way?

this fic is written mostly traditionally tbh - its cronologically told, in third person and mostly from one pov which is (and will be) feclicity. however, i have changed my mind about a lot of things since i started the fic - for one, i want to incorporate the whole ‘unreliable narrator’ thing a lot more. i want to use flashbacks more carefully: playing with timelines in how cetain present time events triger past moemories that illuminate the REASON behind present time choices. things like that.

the real inspiration for the fic itself was another fic i read - I've Never Truly Loved (Until You Put Your Arms Around Me) by theirhappystory. And the fact that i read that fic ... while i was on a boat... while there was a storm. a small one BUT STILL.

2: What scene did you first put down?

Whatever Walks Here, Walks Alone - aka oliver looking at felicity in the lair. by itself this scene could fit anywhere from the begining of season 1, to anywhere in season 2. i didnt really write it with a timeline in mind. it was mroe like me pondering the characters.

3: What's your favorite line of narration?

i had a LOT of fun - unexpected fun - writing Diggle’s pov in teh whole situation. you see, when i started the story the first thing i wanted to figure out was where do i want the characters to end up in relation to each other - so that i could start the story with them being in the diametrically opposite spot! but then i realized that i also want contrast within the trio - and where oliver and felicity move towards each other at a glacial pace, john and felicty have a much more easy time understanding where the other stands. like... they vibe. and it had a lot o fun planing out that vibe - and all teh ways it pisses off oliver, in the begining.

4: What's your favorite line of dialogue?

To answer this i would have to go back and re-read a lot of what i wrote and plan to write, but there is a line that STAYS with me and its one felicity says.

so - in the show, the trio do eventually find out that the Gambit was sabotaged and did not just sink. Now - in Shipwrecks - this would have a major devastating effect on felicity, who was in the gambit with oliver and sara. And she is the one that has the hunch that moira was involved (i think this happens in canon too?) - and she pushes oliver about it. Bc ofc she thinks of moira as just another person. Worse even - a person who hurt her. At this point she is MANIC about it and it freaks oliver out. Like, take the natural defensiveness he has against the idea and add a fear that felicity might genuinely kill his mother, and you get him being very agressively AGAINST felicity following moira anywhere. and when felicity understands that oliver has no intention of pursuing a what she sees as a genuine lead about the event that practically ruined them as people, she just, shuts down, makes a disgusted face, thinks of all the ritch fuckers she’s known and framed and used and how they close ranks when their reputation or personal interest is touched and just, blurts it out.

‘you fucking people.’

5: What part was hardest to write?

all of it lmao. like WRITING IT.

6: What makes this fic special or different from all your other fics?

The fact that i planned it out and it has like, different installments and a whole journey, which is one of losing oneself, understanding that ones self has been lost, seeing vengence for that loss (aka giving in/facing the anger it causes), seeking freedom, going against ones impulses to build better ones, building relationships, mantaining them, finding ones self through small acts of kindness towards ones self, rebuilding ones personality

basically i wrote a journey about getting out of depression and grief, before i realized that THAT was what i was actually writing about.

7: Where did the title come from?

The title of the series is pretty straightforward: they were shipwrecked and now theyre coming back. 'above the vaulted sky’ is a line from a I am, by John Claire.

I am—yet what I am none cares or knows;My friends forsake me like a memory lost:I am the self-consumer of my woes—They rise and vanish in oblivious host,Like shadows in love’s frenzied stifled throesAnd yet I am, and live—like vapours tossedInto the nothingness of scorn and noise,Into the living sea of waking dreams,Where there is neither sense of life or joys,But the vast shipwreck of my life’s esteems;Even the dearest that I loved the bestAre strange—nay, rather, stranger than the rest.I long for scenes where man hath never trodA place where woman never smiled or weptThere to abide with my Creator, God,And sleep as I in childhood sweetly slept,Untroubling and untroubled where I lieThe grass below—above the vaulted sky.

It’s a rather sad one actually, but i read it as a poem about hope. About the dream of hope, anyway. And this need to be away - from what is known because at this point what is known is horrible and the only happiness the imagination can come up with, is to be as far from it as possible and alone. and that is very much where felicity starts out with. With her hope not being about peace, but an isolation in stillness because that is the only good place she can imagine.

8: Did any real people or events inspire any part of it?

It did. I’ve been depressed and strugling with horrendous issues of self worth and anxiety since i was about 14. And i never knew. It literally took me turning 28 to realize what the fuck was wrong. And its depressing (lol) because its just so much fucking time that i wasted, you know. And i remember - like, when i was deep in my depression - i used to think all the time ‘I must have been a real life person once. Like, an actual person, with a personality, and likes and dislikes and feelings - but i dont remember her. I dont know who that girl even is, i woudlnt regognise her at all.’ It felt like some part of me had died. Like there was literal murder involved. Cause so little of me survived.

but it turns out, i have been this way - just less intensely (and in some cases a lot MORE intensely) since i hit puberty. i didnt die - i just got worse and did not deal with it at all.

9: Were there any alternate versions of this fic?

not really. not yet, anyway.

10: Why did you choose this pairing for this particular story?

im actually not sure that i do want oliver-felicity for this sotry. the dynamic between felicity and tommy is also very veyr interesting. and i dont really know where i will take them. especially in the first and second story, their connection is intense. but this is also part of teh slowburn - oliver and felicity, however it happens, its gonna be slow.

11: What do you like best about this fic?

how personal it is to me, and my experience. and the fact that, if i write it well, i might actually be sayin something.

12: What do you like least about this fic?

THE FACT THAT I HAVENT WRITTEN IT YET T_T

13: What music did you listen to, if any, to get in the mood for writing this story? Or if you didn't listen to anything, what do you think readers should listen to to accompany us while reading?

PHEW I have whole playlists i built as i was ordering this whole series. with songs that fit the mood, the direction of the storytelling and all.

14: Is there anything you wanted readers to learn from reading this fic?

I genuinely want people to see this as a story about healing.

15: What did you learn from writing this fic?

i havent written all of it yet - but i did learn something very interesting about myself. that i have been putting my trauma into narratives to deal with it looong since i knew that was a thing, or i was even aware that i was doing it.

and on that depressing note, i will end this post and start a new one for the other stories lmao

#personal #shipwrecks tag #deathandindignitybedamned

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raibebe · 5 years ago

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I've read all your work and im such a fan of how you write. Me as a writer ( a crappy one though lol) would like to ask for advice when writing, like how do you make such good writings and manage to never drift away from the topic and the flow goes so well ugh, i dont even know how to explain. Just want to advice and maybe some help haha, i have writers block and cant seem to like anything i write and everytime i try to write something, i drift away from the topic and end up deleting it.

Well first of all, thank you for all your kind words 🖤

I don’t really know how to start and this is probably going to be a lot of rambling, so bear with me for this one.

So I also tend to drift off topic a lot when I write actually, that’s why my works always end up way longer than I intend them too. And most times it’s not bad if you get off topic. Some stories just have their own way and sometimes you just need to go with the flow of writing even if it takes a different turn than you intended it. In the end it might not be what you originally wanted but it might be a beautiful work nonetheless.

Writing with prompts has really helped me personally though. Shorter stories in general really help with that where you circle around a small topic. When writing multiple chapter fics it’s harder and I really can’t give any advice on that because I myself have never completed any multi chaptered fic I have ever started and I have been a writer in so many different fandoms and have never managed to do that. Or any completely original stuff for that matter.

Writers block can be difficult and sometimes you just have to wait until a great idea just pops into your head, so your motivation and stuff will just be back. With writing prompts that people are waiting for I’m sorry if anyone reading this has ever requested anything from me, I’m taking forever you sometimes just have to force through it.

I just try to come up with a concept first. Just rough outlines on what I want to happen (that’s a lot easier with prompts because they already give you a very very rough outline). When I got the “storyline” down (with my prompts is mostly just key words like a flow chart maybe and when what sentence is going to be said, not more than one or two lines) I just start writing. In the first paragraph I like to have sort of an introduction into the scenery and the general circumstances.

If I’ve got the mood down, it helps me if I listen to songs that fit the mood. I have several playlists especially for Monsta X for that matter. Also it helps me that the songs are neither English nor my native language so I have a sort of mood setting background noise that’s not interfering with my thoughts. I remember for my first Halloween work I listened to Who by Seventeen’s performance team on repeat for hours (I can’t listen to it anymore) because it just portrayed the mood really well and brought me in the right mind-set.

Well from there I personally write in pieces a lot (I don’t know if this is good advice though, it’s just how I personally work, I’m afraid you ultimately have to find out what works for you). What that means is if I get stuck in a certain part, I just leave a bit of space, write keywords on how the scene progresses to the next one and write the next part that I have ideas for. The Halloween work that’s gonna be online later tonight I think was like that as well. It was written in three parts that I only connected when I already had the ending completely written. And I think I also got the ending scene done first, then the middle part and then the beginning. This personally also helps me to make everything as logical as I can. Because when I know what the character is doing at the end, I know how to make him act in the middle part, if that makes sense.

What I also try to do is paying attention to details. Like never forget what your characters are doing. For example if they were lying down, they can’t just walk somewhere without getting up first. For me it’s the little things like that that mater and personally drive me crazy if someone (myself or other writers) get that wrong. Like saying that the reader wore tight jeans and in the next scene they get their skirt hiked up.

Talking about the reader, I like to keep them as vague as possible so many people can relate to them. (Also I personally don’t like using stuff like Y/N because my brain is too stupid to insert my name and I just read what is written which is just weird, I just use pet names when I feel it’s necessary)

Also you mentioned that you delete lots of things you write: Don’t do that! I feel like leaving a work alone for a while and coming back to it a little later to work on it again sometimes works wonder. And even if it can’t be fixed you can always look back and maybe learn from it. I still have the stuff I wrote in school and sometimes like to embarrass myself while looking at them. If you follow me for a little while, you might know that I’ve said that I wrote a Minhyuk prompt that I didn’t feel comfortable posting, I still have that and I am still working on it and it’s probably been like 2 months and I still don’t like it for variable reasons but it’s getting better, so just hang in there.

And lastly, having friends to talk to about your work or a beta reader really helps. I got lucky and @kihyunsbabe was kind enough to read through my stuff for the past fics.

And sometimes there are just days where nothing seems to work. Don’t stress yourself. Just relax and watch Monsta X Ray for the nth time or some crack compilations.

Wow, this is way longer than I thought it would be... Who saw that coming with me? But I hope I could help you at least a little bit and give some insight as to how I personally write. Again, it’s just how I work, it works for me. It might not work for you, you just have to find out through trial and error. 🖤

If there’s anything you’d like more advice on, don’t hesitate to ask.

#ask #mxwritings #advice #I hope this helps you

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lyricalt · 7 years ago

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2017 fic round up + annual fic meme

It’s that time again, folks. Let’s see the damage.

THE LIST

*drabble/stuff under 1k words +wip

Boku No Hero Academia

Tell - inatodo

Destiny

hardcase* - implied andal brask/cayde-6

a code of you - original character: sol-6

Gamble* - andal brask/Cayde-6

Integrate

got a feel for you* - post-canon seep - pre-canon

Overwatch

R76

feel something*

Fourth Date Stuff

Prompt: cut*

punchline

GEN / MISC.

a priori - time travel, Reaper&Gabriel Reyes

gift for gift - gen - Reaper, Widowmaker, Ana Amari, Jack Morrison (mentioned)

all his cards you want to touch - Jesse McCree (Vigilante)/Jesse McCree (Riverboat)

cross your heart and hope - Destiny AU: has mcgenji, implied r76. Too lazy to link to individual pieces on ao3, so I only linked the ones only on tumblr.

Showteam+

Trigger happy

of all just fools - Destiny 2 AU

MCGENJI

not far from home vantage make you sway Prompt: rainy day* Prompt: surprise* must be love cut* devil gave me a crooked start down and doubt - (background implied r76) on your mark+ - AU where genji is a motorcycle and mccree is a mechanic. serial never had much faith (in love or miracles)* Carry case of six wake up calls: 1, 2, 3 Beach drabbles: 1, 2, 3 like you would to a point, to your knees damned if you do - incubus mccree/oni genji sun steel / soul intersect count to three triple threat+ Prompt: kiss on the back of the hand*

Total number of completed stories: 33, excluding drabbles and some prompts.

Total word count: AO3 stats say around 56,500. I’ll ballpark it 60,000.

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d predicted?

I wrote more words and more fic this year, but a bunch of it were very short stories! Shorter than my usual, I think. I am also very in love with the Destiny AU so I think that had a lot to do with my high word count. I also wrote a lot on the side I never posted, ahaha. I think I was very distracted this year by too many fandoms/ideas. Ah well.

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted in January?

Nah. I’m predictable. I’m still side-eyeing the genji-as-a-motorcycle AU though. I did that?

What’s your own favorite story of the year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you happiest?

CARRY. It was Carry. I loved writing that stupid fic. It was so dumb but I feel so vindictive and about it because I wrote it to have fun and also to express some exasperation about a couple of mcgnj tropes I felt were kinda not-my-thing. BUT!! it makes me happy that a lot of other people enjoyed it too and also @vfordii drew THIS.

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them?

I don’t feel like I took any huge risks. I am pretty comfortable with the subject matter I write (--though I think it’s more of a matter of motivation and sticking to it). I, uh, did write some bottom/sub mccree which is somehow not all that popular within the mcgenji fandom and let me tell you this was hugely a case of “if no one will write it then I will but I will complain about it for the entire time”. I wouldn’t consider it a risk though, but I did learn a bit about how to comfortably write dirty talk without needing it to be explicitly written. I don’t think it shows up a lot in my current fics but I’ve been taking note of what sounds right to me vs how much I want to write, if that makes sense.

Also for the record all my mcgnj fic is implied sexual dynamic sub/bottom mccree, like, in the case it ever happens. (I’m kidding. Or am I. I am. (Not really.) No, I’m dead serious.)

Do you have any fanfic or profic goals for the New Year?

Finish the damn fics I start, why don’t I!!!!! (This is a constant goal.)

I do want to write some fandom stories for original characters. I also want to write more explicit fic without shaming myself out of it. What are the nastywords all the hip young adults are using nowadays? I don’t know and I get conflicting reports, but by god I will try to learn.

My best story of this year

Hardcase, which is admittedly a small drabble but I think.. it holds very well under Destiny 2, despite my frustration with how Cayde is portrayed in comparison to the Destiny 1. I’ve always had this specific opinion about Cayde and his mysterious (and not so mysterious) agendas. Dude definitely has a hero complex and this fic sorta toes into it. Plus, I like any Cayde angst related to Andal.

I feel like, out of all my fics this felt the most complete, and one that I was most satisfied with what I wanted to convey with a limited amount of words. I’m aware that I’m not… really made for longer stories, so I guess… I like to play to my strengths? And this was it.

My most popular story

According to AO3 hits and kudos, it was make you sway, another mcgenji fic that started with the same motivation as carry. I think.. it’s obvious… that I, uh, like writing a specific brand of Horny McCree, in that he’s not so much embarrassed by his attraction to Genji but just slightly exasperated by it (and his timing). And, haha, also Genji not being 100% on top of his libido is a nice change of pace too. I remember having fun with this!!

Story of mine most under-appreciated, in my opinion

feel something is one I’m super fond of. It’s very short, but I feel like it’s my best r76 fic in terms of the relationship I want to portray, especially post-Overwatch. I like the way I wrote it; in my opinion it was very to-the-point, and doesn’t have the happy ending they don’t quite deserve (yet) but in my mind it’s still a very positive fic without being too idealistic? Not that either way is bad, it was just something different for me, personally.

Most fun story to write

devil gave me a crooked start was a fic I pulled right outta my ass but wrote it all in one sitting after I came up with a couple of lines of dialogue; “So I’m stuck in the future,” “Would you like to know the future you?”, etc etc. It helped that Blizzard had just released McCree’s Blackwatch skin (WITH THE BLACK LEATHER CHAPS!!!!) and while I wasn’t comfortable about Blackwatch Genji having any sort of romantic relationship with Blackwatch McCree, I was sure as heck willing for Present-Day!Genji having some good nasty fun with a younger McCree.

Also I had a stupid amount of fun writing triple threat: genji/genji/genji, and I’m now just seeing a pattern that I enjoy writing characters being humorously turned on and having fun getting their rocks off, so there’s that. What a revelation.

Most Sexy Story

God im sorry but I wrote a mcgenji week drabble about blackwatch genji and mccree beating the shit out of each other and it’s the opposite of romantic and definitely not meant to BE romantic, but fighting can be sexy without being horny, right?? RIGHT???

Story with the single sexiest moment

to a point, to your knees.

It takes a huge effort for McCree to sit still after that, spine tingling and heat crawling over his body. The switchblade knife in Genji’s hand spins once in a little flourish, drawing McCree’s gaze to it.

His attention caught, Genji places the blade at his thumb and forefinger. He slides the knife between them once to no effect, then another time. McCree can hear the grating metal against each other and then the hiss of steam, knife edge still wet with spit from when McCree had held it on his tongue.

“Shall we see how sharp your mouth is now?” Genji asks, running the knife through his fingers once last time.

Genji sharpening McCree’s knife with his fingers and McCree getting hot (literally, metaphorically) and bothered by it is a personal achievement. For me or McCree, that’s up for debate.

Though I have to admit I’m absolutely still pissed about not titling the fic “cut to the feeling” instead because that’s a far better name for a knife kink fic an also my third favorite carly rae jepsen song.

Most “holy crap, that’s wrong, even for you” story

I don’t think anyone was surprised about even my most wildest fic. I think a friend of mine was initially disappointed that the knife kink fic was tagged for “mild blood” instead of straight up bloodplay. I’m sorry.

Story that shifted my own perceptions of the characters

I never quite like this question because I always have a good idea of how I want to portray a character in fic since most of my fics tend to lean on the introspective side of things. down and doubt is a very McCree-centered fic that deals with Gabriel, as well as Genji in relation to Gabriel. I wanted to show a lot of things about how McCree and Genji fight together, and what each of them thinks about the whole Gabriel Reyes = Reaper thing. I didn’t hit all the points, and I unfortunately had to scrub a scene off that I definitely want to rework in another fic, but I think I had the basics… present in the fic. I guess what did surprise me was touching on Soldier: 76, though the dynamics between him and McCree is another thing I want to write about for a later fic.

Hardest story to write

Intersect , mostly because the later half was such a visual story I had wanted to tell in a form that wasn’t all writing. I think It would have done better as a comic but what can u do? I still very much like the first half, which I had rattling in my head for the last year and a half, really.

I was aiming to write about McCree having hang-ups about Genji, and how he views himself—a washed out mercenary with no clear goals, in comparison to Genji, who’s off in a better headspace than him but still interested in McCree anyway. And it’s not so much a reunion fic I wanted to show but a story where it’s just ok to try and reacquaint yourselves with someone who might be a new person to you. I think. I very much did not want it to be a reunion fic.

Most disappointing

Intersect!!!!!!!! It was so jumpy!!!! I had a lot of expectations for it!!!! I wanted it to be so much!!!! In the end I just gave up trying to make the words all fit and banged out the rest of the story and let it go. I’m still upset it didn’t come out the way I wanted it but I think it was better to just post the damn thing rather than let it rot in my drive forever. I felt better for posting it but I don’t think I can reread it anytime soon.

Easiest story to write

I lot of fics that fall into this category were the drabbles like Wake Up Calls. I really like writing about mundane moments and little glimpses of a developing relationship, especially for mcgenji, because my headcanon of them consists of a bunch of little moments that somehow build up into a rolling romance that sneaks up on both of them. I think it’s why I have such a hard time writing one long cohesive fic about them. There just isn’t a Big Ah-Ha Moment for them to me? I guess? I guess. I’m rambling!!

Biggest surprise

That I continued the mcgenji motorcycle AU, honestly. I love it to pieces and it’s fun but god do I think it’s such a chore writing the build up leading to the parts I WANT to write in the first place!!!!!

Most unintentionally telling story

gift for gift started out as a very Gabriel Reyes-centric story but somehow I got passionate about Widowmaker and so it’s also very much about her as well and how she functions within her lack of autonomy. I wanted to explore Gabriel’s motivations/drive to push forward without mentioning just what, exactly, he was going for, which was surprisingly very easy.

Story I’d like to revise

Intersect, not so much revising it but revisiting some of the themes and concepts, especially about McCree. I’ve talked enough about this fic. Anyway.

Story I didn’t write but will at some point, I swear

Well. It’s more of a WIP at this stage but I want to write my epic 100k, 50 chaptered Guardian/Fallen romance fic for Destiny but we’ll see how that goes? Mostly I’m waiting on Bungie because I’m so dry on Bungie lore and I have no idea what the House of Dusk is up to and that’s kinda important to my story—which is, not really at all, but I would LIKE to make sure.

Anyway, that’s a wrap for my 2017 fics. Thanks for reading and all the encouragement! I hope to write more entertaining stories for 2018!! :’)

#thank you to everyone who supported me and encouraged me #and all the nice tags and comments too!!!#fic round up #fic 2017 #also this was an html nightmare pls pray for this awful post

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pabotofus · 7 years ago

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A Long and Screamy Rant

So this is a rant dedicated to @apvrrish's fic (aknightley on AO3) 'calling me to come back', a gem of a fic and a sincerely gorgeous work. (If you haven't read it yet, go do it here and now!! Seriously, you won't regret it)

I was originally going to make this only about how I felt, but she writes so well I have to put something about her writing style there

Spoilers for the fic under the cut!!

1. Her worldbuilding

Literally once the fic started, I had such a good idea of what the shop looked like. Even if it may not have matched her mental image, it was so clear in my head (which is extremely rare for me). Apvrrish also does amazing descriptions, and it's like I'm actually living in the moment. It's so awesome!!!

2. Characterization

She nailed it. Completely and actually nailed it; bullseye after bullseye; on point. Shiro and Keith's relationship, later on Keith and Lance's relationship, Pidge (idk why I really liked the mental image of Pidge with a bun. I just did) staying up really late to help Keith, the way pIDGE CAN USE HER MAGIC THROUGH ELECTRONICS HDKCKSKCKFD

3. Lotor and Honerva/Hagar

Honestly, I was going to make this a side note on characterization, but this is so good it deserves its own topic. Honerva is so extra and I love it? I mean obviously it's not cool that she literally tried to kill Lance so that Lotor could go to a school. But that is something that she would totally do, and I can't really express my love for the all of this.

I also love the way aknightley wrote (or rather, mentioned) Lotor. Here's a beautiful beautiful quote: "Lotor was evidently interested in genetic science, something that Alfor specialized in, but Alfor was also specialized in avoiding people he didn’t care for, something Keith found enviable."

So maybe that quote doesn't focus on Lotor specifically, but it's such a GOOD SENTENCE. It wasn't the type of funny that would make me burst out into laughter, but the kind of brilliant genius that made me stare at my laptop screen and re-read that sentence five times, because it's that good.

4. While we're on this topic, QUOTES.

"Scrolling to a number that’s only labeled with a small bird emoji and a poop emoji, he texts, Can you do some research for me?" It isn't really the quote itself that I liked, per se, but the idea that Pidge's contact name is a bird and a poop emoji. That is perfect?? And I love it so much???

“Am I wrong, Sunshine?” Lance asks, tilting his head and smiling slyly." Lance calls Keith Sunshine. LANCE CALLS KEITH SUNSHINE OH MY GOD I CANT??? !!!!!!!

"You don’t need it to look pretty, Keith thinks, unbidden." Do I even need to explain here? Seriously, look me in the eye and ask my why I love this quote so much, I dare you. KEITH ADMIRING LANCE'S BEAUTY IS MY GODDAMN JAM

"“Sure, kiddo,” Shiro says, taking a sip of coffee with raised eyebrows." This. THIS!! The amount of pure goodness in this line is enough to make me cry. Shiro knows. Shiro knows!!!

"“Besides the obvious reasons,” Shiro says, raising his eyebrows. Keith gives in to pettiness and uses his magic to fling the pieces of cereal still on the counter at his face, grinning when they nail him directly in the nose." THIS IS THE GOOD BROGANES CONTENT THAT I LIVE FOR DID YOU KNOW??? Again, with characterization,, such perfection.

"“A customer,” Pidge says, doing air quotes. “A customer you dream about and who makes you go super smiley when he calls you on the phone.”" PIDGE KNOWS. SHIRO KNOWS. THEY ALL KNOW AND STILL KEITH REFUSES TO ACKNOWLEDGE IT. A GOOD TROPE. I VERY MUCH APPROVE.

"“So I guess I should -- um -- take this off?” He pulls lightly at the material over his chest and Keith feels his own face heat up." FLUSTERED KLANCE IS BEST KLANCE. NO, I DONT ACCEPT OTHER ANSWERS. THIS IS LAW.

"Lance leaned in close so he can peer into Keith’s face.

Across the room, a cedar branch catches fire." AGAIN. FLUSTERED KLANCE IS BEST KLANCE. NEED THERE BE ANY MORE PROOF? (Also, I hope all these quotes convey the immense love I have for aknightley and her writing)

“I’m going to have to buy her something very sparkly,” Keith murmurs to himself, smiling at the little heart she’s drawn next to her name.

Just,, sparkles!! ✨✨give Allura all the sparkly things 2Kforever please and thank you :)

“I’m good, Sunshine,” Lance says, stretching a little. “In fact, I kind of feel lucky right now.”

OHHHHHH BOY. THIS IS THE CLICHE BUT WONDERFUL TYPE OF THING THAT A HERO GENERALLY SAYS BEFORE THE BIG SHOWDOWN AND I LOVE IT A LOT??? ITS BEAUTIFULLLLLLL GIVE ME EVERY AND ALL THE CLICHE TROPES

5. Keith taking off his protections so that he could talk with Lance in his dreams

I'm probably reading way too much into this, but Keith literally let Lance inside all of his defenses. This is his how much he likes Lance. He stripped down all his protection that he's had for like, forever and let himself be vulnerable ALL FOR LANCE. I CANNOT BELIEVE,, THE SHEER EMOTION AND TRUST SHOWN IN THIS SCENE,,, UGH MY HEART

6. Similarly, the garden scene

This is Keith's private place. This is where he goes to remember his parents, and he let Lance come with him. Again, probably reading way to much into this, but Keith is actually letting Lance in? I mean it's never stated explicitly in the fic but I don't think Keith really goes around sharing the garden with people... wHICH MAKES THIS SO MUCH MORE SPECIAL HDJCKDKSKC I WAS LITERALLY CLUTCHING MY CHEST I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS

7. Keith giving Lance his mom's jacket

Keith didn't even let Shiro, his own brother, keep some of his parents' books from him. Granted, it was a different situation, but still. Keith is incredibly protective of anything and everything related to his parents, so the fact that he let Lance wear and KEEP his mom's jacket?? Is like the equivalent of other people literally ripping out their heart for someone else. The Klance here is absolutely wonderful.

8. The 'fuck your emotions' scene

WELL DAMN, APVRRISH, FUCK WITH MY EMOTIONS WONT YOU?? THEYRE BOTH SO GODDAMN SELF SACRIFICIAL??? LIKE LANCE I GET IT YOU LOVE HIM AND DONT WANT HIM TO GET HURT BUT DONT PUSH HIM AWAY LIKE THIS PLEASE,, ON ONE HAND THIS SHOWS HOW MUCH LANCE CARES FOR KEITH AND WANTS HIM TO BE SAFE BUT ON THE OTHER HAND 'FUCK YOUR EMOTIONS' LANCE QUOTES LIKE ITS NO BIG DEAL... stop taking both mine and Keith's hearts and stomping them into bits you HEARTBREAKER

9. "The bell, when it rings above Lance's head, still cruelly sounds like laughter."

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. CATCH ME SCREAMING INTO THE VOID BECAUSE DAMNNNNNNNN. THE HOLY UNION OF BEAUTIFUL WRITING AND ALL OF THE FEELS IN THE WORLD. My eyes do not deserve to see the glory that is this sentence,, I had to give it a separate topic from Quotes because it was just. So good,,, Even now I feel like I'm not doing it justice, but it's so MIND BLOWINGLY AWESOME that I just can't. 👏🏻👏🏻 you did good, apvrrish.

10. Keith realizing he loves Lance

Need I say any more? Literally ALL I could dare to ask for. It's beautiful and I love it a lot. I also like how you didn't make it this big panicky moment for Keith, because honestly? Finding out that you're in love with someone isn't supposed to be all 'oH MY GOD WHAT DO I DO THIS IS BAD'. If realizing that you're in love with someone is bad, well, why are you in love with that person in the first place?

I kinda went off on a tangent there but anyways!! My main point- I really REALLY liked you portrayal of this scene and the way you wrote it. *swallows down the screams of the damned my emotional heart*

11. The dandelion

They're soul bound. They're soul bound, and Keith used a love spell thingy to track down Lance because he loves him and holy hell they're SOUL BOUND. I mean, the whole soulmate thing is low key overdone, not just in this fandom but everywhere. Yet apvrrish manages to put her own unique spin on the whole thing, incorporating magic and the idea of 'marriage bonds', which is really unique.

12. The idea of modern magic

Okay so I've been trying to go in chronological order but as I keep reading I just find this world so so cool. Most times there's a magical AU, the characters are somehow in the past, or it's a different world. But this, this is a combination of modern tech and somehow also these awesome magical abilities. There are potions with real life ingredients (certain types of wood, flowers, stones or minerals, etc.) and for realistic purposes. This is so realistic that I can actually imagine it happening, which is GREAT because it shows just how good of a writer that apvrrish is, but at the same time, makes me wish so so hard that I could be part of this world. Modern magic,, hdjckskc stab me in the heart with everything I've ever wanted, won't you?

13. “True love or some shit, I think,” Lance says cheerfully, and waves his hand.

Another quote too good for the Quotes section. He says this so nonchalantly?? It fits Lance's character SO WELL and so was really funny (idrk why it just made me smile a lot). Also, they're in LOVEEEEEEEEEEEEE~

14. Red!!

Beautiful cat child is cute and deserves all the love. I ADORE witch familiars, and Red helping Keith out with the exorcism thing was really pleasing to read. Also,, Red and Lance interactions. The pLaYFuL bAnTEr between Keith and Lance. Hhhhhhhhhhhhh I love this so muchhhh

15. The ending

tHE ENDING, OH MY GOD THE ENDING. THEY LITERALLY RODE INTO THE SUNSET ON A MOTORCYCLE. IM CRYING ITS SO CLICHE BUT BEAUTIFUL??? ME, SOBBING? ITS MORE LIKELY THAN YOU THINK BECAUSE THIS IS A GORGEOUS CONCLUSION.

Also! "“Why not?” he says quietly, leaning back against Lance’s chest. “We’ve got time.”"

That. THAT. I've already said this in a comment on the fic itself, but this is so good it needs to be said again. This entire story has kind of a recurring theme of how Keith doesn't have enough time with his loved ones (his parents and Lance because of the curse). But now that he broke the curse, he finally had time to be all cutesy and happy with Lance because they have time. Lance is no longer in danger of dying, and so they can take the long way and enjoy life just because now, they can. Catch me screaming into the void again because THIS IS BEAUTIFUL.

A last note- I found a song that kinda fits for this fic. The lyrics match the best, but in general the song is also super pretty!! So if you have time give it a listen because it's,, so good (jUST LIKE THIS FIC).

I still feel like all this ranting isn't enough to do this work of art and perfection justice, but anyways!! Apvrrish, continue being the awesomely amazing writer you are.

~Paladin

#honestly!!#a gem of a fic #voltron #vld #fanfiction #apvrrish #calling me to come back #ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh i still love it so much

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danfanciesphil · 7 years ago

Note

Love your writing! A prompt for you: I'd love to see Phil reacting to people saying he doesn't love Dan as much as Dan loves him which I think is stupid??

So, if you’ve read my fic Birthday Sex then you will know that I do not buy into this trope whatsoever, which i must say is a big reason I wrote it. I really just do not see where people are coming from when they say that Dan loves Phil more?? Maybe at the very, very beginning of their relationship it kind of seemed like Dan was a bit of an obsessed lovestruck young kiddo (spoiler: he was) but firstly, it’s important to remember that we don’t get to see everything the two of them say to one another and we already know that Dan tends to share a lot more with the public than Phil does. For example, when has Phil ever (barr his Draw My Life and a few other sparse instances) ever revealed anything serious and personal about himself? Whereas Dan just yesterday opened up about something so deeply intimate that it’s honestly baffling he had the courage at all. My point is that it’s highly, highly likely that there were things said between them behind the scenes that we just did not have any knowledge of whatsoever. I’d draw your attention to the Video That Will Not Be Named as an example, because obviously (if you choose to ignore dnp’s ‘explanation’ and see it as real/true) then it was NEVER meant to be seen by anyone except Dan. Think about that... if youtube hadn’t glitched, that video would not exist to us. How many more videos are there like this one? How many texts and phone calls and private conversations that are probably WAY more schmaltzy and incriminating??

Not only this, but as a follow up point, Phil is older, and he is maturer than Dan. The latter possibly gets less true as time goes on and Dan grows as a person (what a fantastic man he’s becoming I stg im so proud), but certainly up until now, Phil has been the adult of the two of them. Don’t try telling me he acts like a child either, because that’s not the same thing - he’s an entertainer for a family friendly YouTube channel, it doesn’t mean he isn’t a millionaire/business owner/well-educated, successful man. I find it not only silly that people expect him to be fawning over Dan every minute of the goddamn day on camera in order to prove his affection, but just ridiculously unrealistic. He’s a 30 year old man. If he is with Dan, then he’s been in a committed relationship with him for years. They’re over the honeymoon stage. They’re into something far more serious and committed now, and it’s a kind of love that doesn’t need to be shown at all times.

Finally, I just want to add that apart from all I’ve said - neither of them (imo) show much sign of being madly in love with the other at all? I mean, you have to remember that we are a fandom, and it’s so easy to pick apart something and pull out the bits you want to fit your ideal picture. There is evidence of them being a couple, yes, but there’s also evidence against it! Neither of them refer to one another as ‘boyfriend’ or ‘partner’ and I honestly doubt they ever will! Dan is not constantly gooey over Phil, and the same goes the other way around. It baffles me that people can dissect every one of their looks and actions (I’m guilty of it too of course) and come up with these absurd headcanons such as “AWW DAn looks so in love here, and Phil looks so indifferent” because it’s just... it’s just completely ridiculous?? You have nothing to base that on whatsoever apart from a half second clip from a video - the leap to conclusion is beyond crazy.

Idk I am aware i went off on a little ramble here, but this kind of thing is where the phandom descends into a total clusterfucky mess. It’s good to take a breather every once in a while and remind ourselves that the things we do know about the boys is very limited. Our ‘evidence’ from the past is still just a bunch of tweets and videos, none of us know them. I don’t want to destroy any ships, because personally I think there’s a LOT of mystery and confusion shrouding their relationship which could absolutely mean something else is going on, but again, I’m not going to make any mad assumptions about anything because at the end of the day I just don’t know.

ANYWAY. Nothing wrong with writing FICTION about this, and that’s what you’ve asked for, so here my love! Thanks for the question (none of this was aimed at you btw! I know you’re just asking in general about the topic, I just wanted to share my thoughts on it).

Got a prompt for me? Click here! (Please be aware that due to an abundance of prompts, your prompt may take a few days to complete - but thank you all for submitting so far!)

The comment catches his attention, and Phil isn’t sure why.

He’s scrolling through the comment section of the latest DanAndPhilGAMES video, a smile playing on his mouth as he reads everyone’s reactions to Dil’s latest adventures.

It’s a treat he allows himself very rarely nowadays, to look through the comments. As Dan once said, it can be like picking through a minefield. Sure, the vast majority of the comments will be overwhelmingly positive, filled with adoration and appreciation of them both, lulling him into a false sense of security and then BAM! One will jump out, jarring him with its nasty words, or its negative perspective. Reading a mean comment can, even now, when there are literally thousands of nice once to combat it, throw Phil off-kilter for days.

It can make him second guess every creative instinct. It can make him snappy and irritable, or just glum.

This comment, though not exactly mean per se, is one such instance. He tries to ignore it, to just scroll past and move on with his life. It’s just a shipper comment, after all. That’s what he and Dan call them. Around half the comments they get on their videos are from the ‘shippers’. It’s fine. Usually neither of them pay any attention to them whatsoever.

But this one has been upvoted 600 times. It has dozens of replies attached to it, clearly a topic of hot discussion. Phil scrolls back up, gnawing at his lip, and lets his eyes scan over the words again:

It’s so sad when Dan says something funny and looks at Phil all hopeful but Phil just ignores him. Heartbreaking to know that Dan will always love Phil more - ever since 2009. 3

Phil closes his laptop, wishing the words would dissolve from his brain. He shuts his eyes, but they burn behind his retinas, bright and jarring. Where do they get this stuff? Is that truly what people believe?

He reopens his laptop and scrolls back up to the video, dragging the slider over the bar at the bottom of the window, scanning his and Dan’s faces for any signs of what that subscriber had said.

As he scrolls through the video for the sixth time, squinting at the screen, he feels Dan flop down onto the sofa beside him, crunching something. Phil sits up, turning to Dan with warm cheeks, feeling caught out.

Dan raises an eyebrow at him, glancing at the screen. He offers Phil a crisp from the packet in his hands.

“Watching phan videos again?” Dan asks him, smiling.

“Just... checking the comments on the Dil vid.” Phil tells him, and Dan sighs knowingly, placing the crisp packet aside.

“Oh God, what’ve they said now?” Dan asks, shuffling towards Phil in order to see.

Phil wonders if he should even mention this to Dan; it seems like it might be worse for him to know the fans seem to think this way, after all. Inevitably though, Phil breaks, not able to think up a good enough lie.

With some reluctance, he scrolls down to the comment, and waits for Dan to read it, chewing his lip.

“Oh,” Dan says in a strange voice, sitting upright. “That’s... I thought it was gonna be like ‘gay emo dicks’ or something.”

Phil laughs a little, but it’s a hollow, unconvincing sound. “You know that... that’s not true, right?”

Dan looks at him, something small and fearful hidden deep in the recesses of his eyes. “Yeah.”

He doesn’t sound very convinced, and it worries Phil immensely. “You’re my whole world, Dan.” Phil tells him with complete sincerity; Dan looks away, obviously embarrassed by the loaded emotion. “I know it sounds melodramatic. But you are. You’re my best friend, my favourite person in the world. I love you so much it’s crazy.”

There’s a choke to Dan’s voice when he next speaks. “Yeah,” he says again, sniffing. “I dunno where they get their weird ideas, tbh.”

Phil pushes his laptop off his knee, reaching for Dan and pulling him in. He holds him tight, pressing firm kisses into his soft curls. “I’m sorry if it ever comes off that way.” Phil tells him, voice a whisper of itself. “I’m sorry if I’ve ever made you feel that I might not... love you as much.”

Dan shakes his head. “Don’t be stupid.” He pulls away a little, looking up into Phil’s eyes, his smile watery. “I know how much you love me, you sap.”

Phil surveys him carefully, scanning his face for signs of a lie. Eventually a smirk creeps onto his lips, and Dan zeroes in on it, confused.

“Well,” Phil purrs, leaning forwards until their lips brush. “If you ever need a reminder...”

Dan snorts with laughter, trying to wriggle free of his grip. A few kisses later, however, he seems to give in.

#idk what the fic was im sorry #thanks for the prompt bae #prompts #anon #ellen answers

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legion1993 · 7 years ago

Text

LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO, I CAN’T RISK YOUR SAFETY

A/N: thanks everyone for all the love on these fics. Here is week 16 of the SPN HWC brought to us by the lovely & talented @thing-you-do-with-that-thing. This one is part 3 to week 5’s fic and im blessed to bring you all another part. Hopefully everyone is enjoying reading it as much as I am writing it. As always ignore any spelling/grammer errors and give it some love if it made your day.

Pairing: Dean x Sister!reader

Prompt: “Let’s ditch this place and do something fun.”

Plot: Between Wedding prep, cases, and being restricted in your outings for safety reasons, your life has become very dull and routine. Mary and you have become close friends, and she has been doing a phenomenal job keeping you occupied and helping with whatever you need. But your going stir crazy. What's worse is the demon activity has been increasing to the point where you have hardly seen in Dean in the last 3 weeks. Will things actually settle down at some point so the wedding can happen and you can spend time with your love? You would even settle for an hour with Dean, far away from all this hectic life stuff, just the two of you. But will that ever happen?

2 months have passed since your brother, the love of your life, pledged his love to you and proposed to you. Wedding preparations have been taking place in between cases, leaving almost no time for any fun, except the nights you spend in Dean's arms.

He has been extremely protective of you and your unborn child, but very supportive as well. You have also kept your word, being the "behind the scenes" hunter-turned-librarian while you are pregnant. Dean always has someone staying with you, even though the bunker is well protected and safe, especially after almost losing you and the baby.

Mary has been a huge help, often being the one volunteering to stay with you. She is excited about the wedding and the grandchild she will see in 5 months. Dean is planning to marry you before the child is born but it seems like every time a date is set something comes up.

What’s worse is this last couple weeks you've hardly seen Dean at all. Demon and monster activity have been so numerous that the guys are gone more than they are home. Even Cas has been away alot helping Sam and Dean. If not for Mary staying with you, you would be insane by now from loneliness. Bad enough you don't get to go anywhere anymore, or have any special dates with Dean.

You and Mary have been adjusting some dresses for you and finding some bigger shirts. Your tummy has started to show and consequently your regular clothes no longer fit as well as they used to. You knew it would happen eventually but it still frustrates you. A small part of you thinks Dean has been away so much because he thinks your big tummy is ugly. When he returns he doesn't ignore you or steer clear of you. Quite the opposite in fact.

Dean has been extremely attentive and affectionate towards you when he is home.

One day as you and Mary are looking at magazines for flower arrangements and dresses, she notices you are quieter than usual and comments,

Mary: "Hey YN, something wrong? You look like you just came across a pile of mutilated kittens."

You half giggle, half gross out.

Y/N: "Thankfully not in this lifetime. And I hope I never do. Just feeling kind of lonely lately. Don’t get me wrong Mary, you're probably the only thing keeping me sane when the guys are gone. But life just seems to be throwing case after case lately. I've hardly seen Dean more than twice in the last 3 weeks. I'm not allowed to hunt, I'm not even allowed to leave the bunker. I understand that Dean almost lost me and the baby but I'm gonna go stir crazy soon. I need a vacation or something. At this point I'd settle for an hour, just me and Dean, far away from all this. Have time alone with the man i love. I miss him when he's not here. Mary, do you think someone is trying to keep me and Dean apart so we can’t get married?”

Mary looks at you and sighs,

Mary: “whatever would make you think such a thing.”

You shrug and your hand drapes over your blooming belly.

Y/N: “everything is changing and Dean isn’t here to enjoy this with me. He is gone half the time and we still have to decide on the colors of his tie and tux and my dress and ugh it sucks being stuck inside and not seeing him.”

Mary: “hon don’t worry if something is gonna happen to dean we won’t let anything stop this wedding date from happening. Don’t worry we will do this one way or another. Either way you and Dean will be married before you give birth honey…”

You breathed deeply leaning back into the chair and allowing yourself to try and relax. Cas then popped in and sighed. You looked up at him and saw the blood on Cas’ face. You got up and went over to him helping him lean against the wall, Mary got up and went to grab the first aid kit.

Y/N: “Cas what happened to you?”

Cas: “I was helping the boys and they got stolen in a flash of darkness I barely escaped they disappeared. Y/N dean gave me this to give to you he wrote it just before he and Sam disappeared. Y/N I’m so sorry I promise we will find them we will find them and then I will marry you and Dean myself shortly after.”

You took the letter and opened it reading it outloud.

Y/N (reading the letter): “babe I need to write this to you, I seem to have dropped my phone something has been following me Sam and Cas for the last little while and right now I need to say this to you, from day one I have loved you and on your 17th birthday I felt more like a man than before. You are my world, my life, You’re my true love. If you get this it means me & Sam got separated from Cas. I give you permission to hunt but be careful. I don’t want you hurt. You will find baby on the side of route 66 where we found the lady in white. Please baby find us so I can marry you properly. I love you… follow the clues…”

For what seems like an eternity you stare at the letter, and your hands begin to shake. Mary immediately rushes to you, enveloping you in a warm hug as she takes the letter and reads it.

Placing the letter on the table she strokes your hair as you cry on her shoulder. Then she whispers,

Mary: "we will find them YN, i promise. Nothing will keep us from finding the boys, not even all of Hell. They will be fine. Those are two of the toughest guys I know."

Somehow her words comfort you enough to stop crying and focus.

Pulling out your phone you dial up a number that Was only to be used in dire emergencies. You are the only one with this number and the only one with permission to use it. 30 seconds after you hang up the phone,

Crowley shows up at the bunker door. Mary draws her gun but you stop her. Cas eyes Crowley suspiciously but you stop him as well. Stepping in front of the King of Hell, you face Cas and Mary.

Y/N: "Crowley is here to help us. I called him, because this is going to be dangerous and I need all the protection and help I can get. It isn't that I don't trust either of you, But rather that I don't want to take any chances. Better to be safe than sorry."

It was Cas who addressed the elephant in the room.

Cas: "Not that I don't agree with being more safe than sorry, but what makes you think we can trust Crowley? He always has an ulterior motive for everything he does and he has double crossed us before."

Crowley stepped forward.

Crowley: "Castiel, in this I have no other agenda except helping keep YN safe. When I helped you save her and the baby, I felt like I needed to be in call whenever she needed help. I don’t know how to explain the connection that formed. So after all the drama was over I pulled her aside and gave her my private number, saying she could ask for my help of she was desperate.”

You felt 3 sets of eyes on you 2 of which were shocked.

Mary: “Y/N I think I speak for me and a similar reaction from the boys when I say Y/N sweetheart what the hell were you thinking?”

Cas: “I second that Y/N why the hell would you accept help from Crowley? Seriously why would you hide this from any of us?”

You finally got the chance to speak after backing up to sit on the couch with Crowley on your left standing against the wall.

Y/N: “I did what I had to, I knew this life was dangerous so I put a plan in place a secret plan that kinda happened when Crowley offered his help. But he helped save me and the baby he really isn’t that bad of a person.”

Crowley: “look I know you both are on edge right now but think about how Y/N feels I mean she is in despair and right now needs help finding the boys now pull your heads out of your asses pack your stuff and lets find those boys. Now!”

Mary and Cas went to grab weapons and things as you sat there just rubbing your tummy.

Crowley: “I meant what I said love don’t let your own anger fuel you too much it can’t be good for the baby or you. Just don’t worry too much we will find them and save them. Then I will personally have whoever did this boiled in acid.”

Y/N: “well I like that idea so the sooner we find them the sooner I can watch the torment…”

Crowley: “well my dear you get a front row seat.”

You smiled lightly as you ran your hand once more over your belly.

Y/N: “Crowley do you think the boys are ok?”

Crowley: “sweetheart they are survivors nothing can hold those boys down.”

Meanwhile in a underground cellar in the middle of Arizona desert, Dean and Sam are just waking up from being clopped on the head.

Dean: “okay that’s it I’m through being torn away from my fiancé/sister/the love of my life. God why did this have to happen. Why did it have to happen now? I mean I have barely seen her and right now I’m sure she is feeling just as lost as I am.”

Sam comes up and puts a hand on his brothers shoulder and looks him right in the eye.

Sam: “don’t worry dean hopefully Cas got out of there and back to the bunker with the letter they will find us Dean I promise. Just sing, Dean sing to your hearts content help her find us.”

Dean was thinking about this now, of what song he could possibly sing what song could he sing in order to help you find them. The last song that played when you were together was off the radio in the impala, but it frustrated him that he could only remember this one part…

Dean (in song): “But I got smarter, I got harder in the nick of time Honey, I rose up from the dead, I do it all the time I've got a list of names and yours is in red, underlined I check it once, then I check it twice, oh!”

The wind however small it was still carried it out the crack in the wall and all the way to Mary’s car where you were driving everyone else was sleeping. No one else was awake to hear the song that came through that window. Your instant response on a better day would have been to reply but right then you followed it to the place where dean had said the impala was.

Crowley spoke shortly after.

Crowley: “that’s a nice voice, I assume it isn’t yours.”

Y/N: “no its deans for a while now ive been able to communicate to him through the wind. We use it in situations like this. Right now I have a lead and this is the first time in weeks that ive heard his voice. He sounds weak. I can’t imagine what kind of torture he is being put through.”

Crowley: “don’t worry love, we will save him and moose, then you and squirrel can live happily ever after.”

Y/N: “so does this mean I have permission to run off and follow the song?”

Crowley looked at Mary and Cas as they searched the impala.

Crowley: “not without me darlin’ but I don’t entirely think that’s a wise decision at all.”

You only sat against the hood of the impala.

Y/N: “I know it’s not wise but I need to follow the song. I refuse to stop at a motel till we find them.”

Crowley: “I know your determined but you have to think about you and the baby. I say you let Mary or Cas even drive for a few hours and get some sleep. We will wake you when we reach the nearest town. We can set up camp in a motel for a bit, you know shower clean up relax.”

You sighed and nodded.

Y/N: “fine but whose gonna be my pillow if I’m not driving whose my pillow I’m pregnant I can’t just curl, I need to be flat. So whose my pillow prop.”

Cas: “I’ll do it if that’s ok with you?”

Y/N: “thanks Cas just umm grab my pillow out of my bag and I’ll just use dean’s spare flannel in the back.”

You went into the back of the impala and grabbed dean’s flannel, finding your voice once more you sang your plea. But in a different song.

Y/N (in song): “tell me how I’m supposed to breathe with no air, can’t live can’t breathe with no air, it’s how I feel whenever you ain’t there. It’s no air no air. Got me out here in the water so deep, tell me how you gonna be without me. If you ain’t here I just can’t breathe it’s no air, no air, no air air, no air air, no air air, no air air.”

At that moment you felt the wind carry your voice you felt it flying strong and true. No one knew about yours and dean’s talent well barely anyone knew only those who were around when it has been used. But that’s the inner circle.

Meanwhile Dean and Sam are being interrogated by some demons some of the same ones that came through the devil’s gate.

Demon 1: “where is your sister?”

Demon 2: “tell us you stupid Winchesters or we will skin you both alive.”

Dean & Sam spat at them and only gave them dirty looks.

Sam: “why would we tell you dirtbags anything?”

Dean: “family doesn’t give up the location of the rest of their family. Our sister will come for us and when she does she will kick both your asses.”

The demons chuckle and kick both Sam & Dean.

Demon 1: “it’s not just us…”

Demon 2: “that’s right it’s a army of us, we have our reasons for doing this. And right now we have orders to kill you and your sister. See we work for the person whose replacing Azazel even though Azazel is the one who let us out he is currently doing his penance in wherever that damn colt sent him. So we work for someone else. Someone of higher authority and he really wants yours and your sisters intestines on several sticks.”

The demons laugh and walk away leaving the boys in despair once more after throwing water at them. When the door shut everything broke and dean went to sleep that night with tears stinging his eyes.

Meanwhile Mary is driving the impala and right then you were fast asleep against cas’ side where your pillow was currently rested. It was like you were wandering without moving and it felt good to just relax your body.

Crowley: “steady heartbeats from both Y/N and the baby that’s a good thing it means she is actually relaxing.”

Mary: “why do you care about her anyway. I mean aren’t you the demon who oversees the majority of hell. Why would you help us?”

Crowley: “I care bout her cause I have seen what this kind of thing can do to a person. Right now I owe moose and squirrel a favor this is my payment back to them plus its my honor to help the fiancé of squirrel.”

Cas: “well don’t forget Crowley you and I both have a duty to Y/N we both saved her and the baby.”

Crowley: “yes I know but still I hear the heart beat and I feel this power like something stronger than me could be born from this.”

Cas closes his eyes and leans back.

Cas: “well good luck with that theory.”

You know you can track Dean with the wind, so as you rest, you let your mind wander, trying to find remnants of the song Dean sang. Suddenly you awaken with a strong gust of warm air, and all you can smell is Dean's cologne. You know exactly where the boys are!

Y/N: "I found them!"

You shout. You quickly explain to Cas, Mary and Crowley that there is an abandoned sewer station a couple miles south of your current location. Its underground for the most part with only one exit/entrance hidden in a large bush.

The four of you find the entrance as quickly as you can and get the door open. Cas goes in first with Mary close behind, to scout the immediate area. Once they have taken care of immediate threats, they call you and Crowley down. Its damp and smells like an outhouse. You make a comment.

Y/n: "Man, this place must be shit-full of demons. It reeks worse than a family of skunks!"

Then you glance apologetically at Crowley,

Y/N: "Present company excluded."

Crowley chuckles.

Crowley: "No offense taken."

The odor becomes quite strong however, the further you go in the tunnels. You have to concentrate alot just to keep from throwing up everything you ate that morning. Cas notices your discomfort and touches your forehead. The nausea goes away instantly and you whisper your thanks.

You hear the conversation between the demons and your brothers, and all it makes you want to do is charge in there and smash heads.

Mary whispers in your ear,

Mary: "On three we take those bastards down. We still have the element of surprise."

She pauses and looks over at Cas and Crowley, who nod and wait. Mary continues.

"One...Two...Three!"

Crowley sends the door flying across the room, decapitating one demon and smashing another against the wall. Mary runs in and begins slicing and taking more down. Cas does single exorcisms to avoid knocking out Crowley, who is doing his job quite well.

With his help you get to the cage where Sam and Dean are waiting, though they are rather shocked to once again find Crowley helping.

You pick the lock and open the door. Dean rushes towards you and picks you up in his arms for a huge hug. His lips crush your own as he kisses you, and you return the greeting with the same ferver.

Dean whispers

Dean: "Oh god, I missed you so much."

You feel tears forming and beginning to run down your face.

Y/N: "I missed you too! I'm so glad your ok! I love you Dean!"

Crowley interrupts.

Crowley: "Well, as beautifully disgusting as this reunion was, I suggest we vacate this place before we get overrun by minions."

Dean holds you close to him as you all agree with Crowley, and make your way out.

As you approach the tunnel, a large number of demons appear and block your path. The six of you don't hesitate for more than 3 seconds before charging in. Before long most of them are dead or exorcised.

No one notices the three greater demons standing off to the side until Sam spots them and charges at them. One of the demons flicks a finger and sends Sam flying across the open area. Mary draws her gun and gets 2 shots in that demon, but it doesn't even come close to killing him.

The second demon does the same to Mary that the first did to Sam. Before Dean can even try he is sent flying into Sam, causing both to collapse. The three demons turn towards you and speak.

Greater demons: "YN, you and your unborn child will come with us! Lucifer has great plans for you. Leave quietly and your family will not be harmed."

Cas and Crowley both come to stand between you and the demons.

Cas/Crowley: "That is never going to happen, you ugly pieces of shit! Not as long as my associate and I still stand."

Crowley’s voice is so menacing and deadly-sounding even you are momentarily frightened. Cas isn't phased at all and seconds Crowley’s statement.

Crowley: "No one will harm YN without going through us."

Demon 3 throws a fireball hot enough to melt stone but Crowley easily deflects it and destroys it. Cas throws a celestial blade at that demon but it ducks out of the way. You aren't being paid much attention to and you manage to throw an angel blade at demon 2 while his back is turned.

Y/n: "Take that shithead!"

You shout and watch demon 2 turn to ash.

The fun doesn't last long though as demon 1 charges at you.

Demon 1: "You killed my brother!"

She says before lunging at you with her knife. Crowley pushes you out of the way and takes the blade in his side. He doesn't go down right away but instead sends the bitch flying across the room while he regains his momentum and pulls the knife out.

Just as Crowley is about to retaliate, he suddenly lets out a terrifying scream and crumples to the ground. You bend down to see what happened and notice his complexion is pale and his skin is burning to the touch.

You glare at the 2 remaining demons.

Y/N: "What the hell did you do? Why are you even doing this? What could Lucifer possibly think he's going to accomplish by hurting and killing everyone I care about, and then kidnapping me?"

Demon 3 laughs and turns to face you. His voice sends chills down your spine as he answers your questions.

Demon 3: "Well my dear. I find your questions entertaining enough to answer them. Let's see...I poisoned my blade with holy water and Angel blood. Your bodyguard is being burned from the inside out. Quite excruciating actually. Lucifer wants everyone you love and care about of the way so that when he takes you as his bride and raises your child as his own, there won't be anyone to stop him. Together you will breed a new army, powerful, strong, and unstoppable."

Your hands begin to glow and before the demons have a chance to react you send them into the wall with a strength never seen before in anyone.

Y/n: "The day that bastard even thinks of touching me will be the day I slice his heart out of his chest and feed it to him."

You say in a low menacing tone. At that moment, Dean, who is getting up off the floor, says,

Dean: "No one, and I mean NO ONE will ever touch YN except me. NEVER! Not as long as I draw breath."

Crowley, between painful groans, says

Crowley: "I second that. While I still live, no one will harm YN or the baby."

You look down at Crowley and smile at his loyalty to you. The baby stirs inside you, almost painfully, and begins to glow. The light flows to your hands as you hear your child's voice tell you to help Crowley.

Placing your hands on his wound, you close your eyes and relax as the light goes into his skin, closing the gash and draining the poison from his body. Color comes back to his face and Crowley comes to and sits up, surprised to be alive and healthy.

You smile as you hear more from your baby and as Crowley looks at you incredulously you tell him.

Y/N: "She knew you were hurt and that you were dying. She wanted to help you the way you helped her. She has chosen you to be her Godfather, although you can’t teach her anything evil or demonic."

Everyone stares at you during this revelation, especially Dean, who comes over to help you up after healing Crowley. The two demons are also taken back with this news.

Dean looks at Crowley and says,

Dean: "I swear dipstick, of you ever harm my kid you will be floating in the dead sea with your balls stuffed in your mouth and your ass up your nose. Are we clear?"

Crowley answers.

Crowley: "Crystal. And I couldn't even if I wanted to. This bond we formed would kill me as well if I ever harmed her."

All six of you, now standing together, turn and face the remaining 2 demons. As Sam & Mary regain slow reconciousness and voice their opinions.

Sam: “neither of you will get ahold of my sister as long as we are around.”

Mary: “she is like my child and she is carrying the grandchild that I never thought I’d live to see, we wont let you evil demonic bitches get ahold of her. You will not lay another hand on her ever again.”

You turn to dean and you whisper…

Y/N(in a whisper): “maybe if I sing I can keep them in a hold sort of use my psychic crap one time to save our lives…”

Dean leaned in to say his reply.

Dean: “sweetheart siren away I find it hot so do it and then I will start the exorcism.”

Y/N: “short ‘n’ sweet babe..”

Dean: “you know it baby..”

You started humming which immediately almost caught the attention of the demons especially when you were standing in view behind Cas & Crowley. The 2 demons tried to charge through but Crowley had put up a barrier immediately as soon as you came up behind them. Now with dean having helped sam & mary up all of who now are standing along side you, your humming intensified as Dean caught your nod.

Y/N: “now do it now…”

Dean: “exorciamus te omnis immundus spiritus omnis satanica potestas omnis incursio infernalis adversarii omnis congregatio et secta diabolica ergo draco maledicte ecclesiam tuam secure tibi facis libertate servire te rogamus audi nos.”

Those demonic bitches were toast but just as the barrier was dropped to try and make your daring exit, an entire army now stood between you and your exit. You gathered everyone in a huddle.

Y/N: “look ok everyone needs to keep a level head with this ok now here is how we get out. Cas & Crowley your paired up together you can clear the rest of this place and set it to blow. Sam & Mary your partnered up im with Dean we all go in and we fight our way out. We are all family and today we fight as one body mind & soul. Now pick your weapon and get ready cause this will get bloody really quickly. Cas make it rain holy water & Crowley barrier yourself. Lets kick some demon ass.. for the love of family…”

You raised your hand in the air as you finished your speech.

Everyone else (cas mary Crowley dean & sam): “for the love of family.”

Cas & Crowley snapped into the corridors and oiled everything gassed it and made everything flammable as Cas made it rain holy water the demons were screaming. But they were still fighting none of them had jumped out of their meat suits yet.

You started to vocalize again, you could feel the demons fighting against your power but you didn’t care at that moment you were giving it your all. You waved everyone forward you all charged into attack. You even joined in against Dean’s wishes but he did give you permission to come into the field what was he expecting.

Y/N: “I hate demons they are everywhere…”

Dean: “its part of opening the devils gate…”

Y/N: “member when it was just us hunting vamps and we sliced those heads we burned them chopped them up…”

Dean: “we turned it into a dance of sorts didn’t we?”

You nodded and stabbed another demon.

Sam: “wait a minute you guys danced while killing vamps. That’s just a bit messed up…”

Dean: “pardon me but our sister can dance.”

Sam: “don’t you mean your fiancé dean?”

Dean looked at you like he was sorry and you spun round behind him stabbing another demon as you kissed Dean on the nose.

Y/N: “its ok dean I forgive you. Now keep going its working. Sam can you…”

Sam caught onto what you wanted right away.

Sam: “ya forsure I will do my best…”

Sam stood still and concentrated for a few seconds before the demons started to cough up black smoke. You vocalized a little louder than before and watched them all struggle harder. Suddenly it was like a massive gassing of the room bodies started thudding against the ground you all made your ways to cas and Crowley who were getting ready to send Alistair packing.

You and Sam took stance on either side and voiced a scene of powers as you all made him burst. Then you turned towards them and sighed.

Y/N: “there is no valid exit point here people Crowley & Cas get us and the impala back to the bunker please now.”

After the fight, just before Dean says the tag line, he stops and looks at the reader with his head tilted and with a crazy half smile on his face as he says,

Dean: "Her? We're going to have a baby girl? Babe thats the happiest news you could give me today. By the way, shes not dating till she's 90."

Everyone erupts into hysterical laughter. Then Dean says

Dean: "Let's ditch this place and do something fun. Anyone want to go to a wedding? I know this Gorgeous young woman who has been without me Long enough. I think it’s time to marry her tonight, and take her on a long well deserved vacation. Who's with me?"

The reader looks at Dean with a huge smile and leaps into his arms.

Y/N: "Yes, yes, a thousand times yes!"

You all arrive back at the bunker and you go to the bedroom and you pack your stuff and you pack dean’s too. Before grabbing your flip flops and throwing them on and walking out the door and back to where Cas and Crowley were standing with dean.

Dean: “hey babe we all packed.”

Y/N: “yep and I have a dress for the ceremony. It’s wonderful and sexy and that’s the description of my wedding dress.”

You giggled as dean took the bag from you and placed it on the ground coming behind you to sit down with you on his lap as you heard the footsteps of Mary and Sam coming down the hall dressed for a destination wedding.

You looked confused as to what exactly the nature of this wedding was. You didn’t care you would be hitched to the man who made your life worth living. You let him hold you as Crowley sighed.

Crowley: “ok ok lets get going. We don’t want to be late.”

Dean: “honey we are going to a really romantic spot. Where not only we can marry properly nothing big or extravagant just something small and intimate.”

Cas: “are we all ready to go?”

You & dean nodded you were so sure how much you wanted this. You needed this moment like months ago but now it was happening and you were ready to be surprised. Cas & Crowley together transported the 6 of you to the RIU PALACE PUNTA CANA in Punta Cana, Dominican Republic.

Your eyes marveled at the sight laying before you. The view and everything as your bags were transported along with you to a room where you were alone with Crowley and Mary.

Crowley: “ok so moose cas and squirrel are in a different area getting ready we will meet them at the ceremony location which sweetheart its gonna be amazing now ill go onto the deck and you call me back in when your ready.”

Mary and you watched as Crowley went out onto the deck and you watched his suit color change from black to white and you knew something was changing maybe it was everything that had happened. Whatever it was you were grateful for it.

Mary pulled out your dress and you smiled. You both had fun doing your hair and a little bit of makeup and putting on your dress then your flipflops.

Y/N: “Crowley you can come back in now.”

Crowley came back in and you watched his reaction turn from one of a straight face to a look of happiness. He approached you and took your hand spinning you round gently.

Crowley: “love you look amazing. You look beautiful.”

Y/N: “thank you. Crowley would you walk me down the aisle, please?”

Crowley leaned down and kissed your hand before straightening back up with a slight smile.

Crowley: “Y/n it would be my honor.”

Then cas popped in and smiled at the sight of you.

Cas: “Y/N you look radiant its time our gazebo is ready and the view is perfect.”

Cas waved his hands and all of you were in front of the gazebo and waiting your que to enter mary walked with cas up the aisle and in. you stood with Crowley suddenly nervous. What were you a chicken about to be slaughtered? You had nothing to be nervous about although you had every right to be happy and excited.

You had every single right to be whatever emotion. You had every right to feel anything you wanted to. You not only were getting married, but also you were pregnant and hormonal. You linked your arm to his and smiled.

Crowley: “sweetheart you will do just fine and don’t worry I wont let you fall.”

You chuckled and let out a small sigh of relief as you heard the music start. You and Crowley slowly made your way up the aisle. You were starting to tear up but you didn’t care. You had every right to cry, it was your day. Your special day. It had come and thanks to the help of everyone you were happy as could be.

You & Crowley finally reached the top where Crowley kissed your cheek and passed you off to dean. As cas stepped up and started to speak.

Cas: “ladies and gentlemen we are gathered here for a wedding that joins these 2 lovely people in marriage. As the sun sets these 2 would like to recite their vows and be joined in the sight of the hosts of heaven, earth and hell alike.”

Cas made 2 rings appear and you smiled taking the ring that was meant for dean and slowly sliding it on his finger.

Y/N: “Dean, you have changed my life. Literally turned my world around from the moment you gave me the most amazing gift ever on my 17th birthday to now I have loved the man you are and continue to be. Even though not everyone approved at first, we have the support of many on our side. Our family is growing but that’s the thing is family isn’t about blood it’s about surrounding yourself with those who care for you. You taught me that. I promise on this day to love, honor, and cherish you in sickness and health for better or worse for richer or for poorer till death do us part. I love you so much.”

You fully slid the ring on his finger as he kissed your cheek and took your ring and slowly slid it on your finger.

Dean: “babe you turn my world around. Everyday a new adventure and many more to come. I’m honored to have been your first love. I am honored yet still to keep your heart next to mine. Now its official your never getting rid of me now. Not like you could if you wanted to. It’s not who we are underneath but what we do that defines us. And babe we gotta work on your taste in music, seriously your ringtone babe it needs to change. It creeps me out everytime your phone rings. I mean don’t get me wrong its catchy but its creepy. But oh, look what I did I married my sister. I love you so much babe till death do us part and all that good stuff.”

Dean said finishing to slide your ring on your finger. As cas cleared his throat and continued.

Cas: “now I pronounce you husband and wife. Dean you may kiss your bride.”

Dean took you dipping you slightly and kissing you ferociously. Everyone that was there cheered. You both broke the kiss after several minutes.

Cas: “may I proudly present for the first time Mr and Mrs Winchester.”

Everyone continued to cheer. After that you and dean walked back up the aisle and you went to finish watching the sunset. You kept thinking about all you had been through and from day one it seemed like this day would never have come if you hadn’t told dean what your soul desire was for your birthday.

You didn’t even notice there was a party going on you had walked back to the hotel and your room to take a well deserved vacation you though remembered to tell cas to bring you back in 3 weeks.

#spn hiatus writing challenge 2017 #spn hwc - week 16

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