#and i still have thousands of drafted story that i refuse to let die in my wip's graveyard

[indigobackfire]

Almost three years after entering the hphm fandom, having experienced other fandoms before and after, the community here (and a bit on reddit) still remains the nicest and most respectful fandom I've been on

[kass-storycorner]

I’ve been thinking a lot about the Hu Tao and Chongyun storyquests the past days. Both deal with the afterlife (well the border between life and death so far) and ghosts. We know both are canon in Genshin, they exist for this world. Now what I’ve been thinking a lot about is … how much angst can I write with that in mind? I always see a lot of these how the characters would react to your death but… yeah, have fun with this. Or not.

The ghost of you

Prompt: You died and the characters are faced with the literal ghost of you.

Genre: Angst, Hurt, no comfort (especially for Xiao)

Characters: Zhongli, Xiao,

Format: text

Word count: 1714

This is not proof-read or anything, I just wanted to get that idea out of my head. I also really want to write this idea out for other characters, so maybe I'll share a part 2 in the future. and yes the title might be a mcr reference and i might have two other fics in my drafts named after mcr songsi had a rough week okay

Zhongli:

He loved you. With all his heart, with every fibre of his being, he loved you so much. Zhongli always knew that his decision to live a life among mortals would cost a price, but in his mind, it was paid with his Gnosis all those years ago. It was not until the first of his mortal friends started to die that Zhongli was reminded of how fragile humans were. Of course, he was aware to a certain degree that he would outlive his friends and even you, he just never considered how quickly a human life was lived. You both had spent an entire life together, and while Zhonglis body did not biologically age, he is able to change his form to his liking - so when you grew old and grey so did he. Most people in Liyue would see the two of take your stroll around the city, holding hands and they were enamoured by the way you still looked at each other, just like a newlywed couple. But you grew older each day until one day, on one of your walks through the city, your collapsed. Zhongli was quick to catch you and the people around rushed towards the two, helping Zhongli getting you to a doctor. However, what was a doctor to do, than to tell Zhongli that your body is giving up? The doctor nor Zhongli can do anything against the flow of time, though Zhongli wished he could. He was not ready to let you go, he was not ready for you to onyl life in his memories until the erosion of the earth will erease you from them.

You layed in the hospital bed, Zhongli right next to you never letting go of your hand, when you took your last breath. He sat next to you for a while, not saying a word, tears running down his face until he heard your voice.

"It's okay," there you stood on the other side of the bed, your dead body between the two of you. In all the years Zhongli lived he had seen more than a few ghosts and he was aware of the human afterlife - though seeing your ghost wasn't something he anticipated. "You're dead", Zhongli said quietly, tears still spilling from his eyes. "I know, love. I know. And I wish I could've stayed with you just a bit longer, I really do. But it's time. You gave me such a wonderful life; we spend so many years together and I am so thankful for it Zhongli. For all the stories you told me, for all the sleepless nights we spend together, for all the memories we made. I loved it. I love you." Zhongli still hadn't let go of your hand, still afraid of letting you go, even though the mind he loved was standing so close to him. "Love," he started, his voice heavy with grief. "I have so many more stories to tell you. Will you stay, just for a while longer?"

At that you had to laugh a bit and oh, how much he already missed your laugh. He just heard it a few hours ago, when you were still alive, but hearing it now just felt so painful. "Zhongli, even 10 lifetimes wouldn't be enough to be able to listen to all of your stories. But I'm so sorry to disappoint you, you know I can't stay."

He knew this just too well. Not only as someone who worked for decades as a consultant of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor in Liyue, but also as the former Geo-Archon he knew it was better for you to go. It pained him that he could never follow you into the afterlife that was awaiting you, even Zhongli didn't know what awaits you behind the border between life and death. "Then," Zhongli began, standing up and letting go of your cold hand, "let me accompany you."

Xiao:

Continuation for the Xiao one

Xiao refused to go even near the place you died for decades. The day he lost you was still so fresh in his memories, it pained him even more than his karmic debt to think about it. He always told you, when you were still by his side, that when you were in trouble, in danger, to always call his name. You did. You always did and he would be by your side, protecting you from what would’ve harmed you. The only time you refused to call his name in time was the day you died, and all Xiao could do was blame himself. You were visiting at the Inn earlier that day, standing next to him on the balcony talking about something he doesn’t even remember. What he remembers how happy you were, how enthusiastic you talked about it, whatever it was. Somehow though the conversation shifted, and you both ended up fighting – the reason for it was so stupid and it was all his fault. He was just in a bad mood that day and not even your warm presence were able to change it, so he let it out on you. Trying to push you away, again. Xiao cursed himself for how often he did that, how often he would hide how much he loved you, how much he cared for you, behind a mean exterior that only caused you pain. You knew what he was doing and that day, you just had enough. “Stop trying to push me away, Xiao!”, you shouted at him, tears already filling your eyes. You tried to reach for him, but he pulled away. Keeping you at a distance, again. “And you just stop talking, it’s exhausting to hear your voice.” Xiao already hated himself immediately after he said it, but looking back now, knowing what his words caused… it drove him close to madness. “Fine,” you replied, and he could her how much his words hurt you, “then you’ll never hear it again.” With that you left him. He tried to distract himself from the guilt he felt after your fight with his work, slashing through the enemies, spoiling the earth of Liyue with more blood. For nearly a month he didn’t hear you call him, and he was too scared to seek you out. Scared that you wouldn’t want to see him, scared that he ruined it all. When you finally called for him, when he finally heard you say his name – he hoped it was a chance for him to make it up to you. Xiao was not prepared to find your lifeless body, realising that you called his name with your very last breath. It send him into a blind rage, killing the enemies around him that were the cause for your death. When there was nothing left to kill he collapsed next to your corpse, tears spilling from his eyes, chanting your name over and over like a prayer. Asking himself why you hadn’t called him sooner to only remember what he said weeks prior. It was his fault. He couldn’t help it but to blame himself for your death. If he hadn’t said those words, if he hadn’t continuously tried to push you away… you were right. Xiao will never hear your voice again.

He avoided to go even near the place you died. If he hadn’t done that, if he had visited at least once, he would’ve seen your ghost, wandering aimlessly around. At first you were just confused, what had just happened? The last thing you remembered is that you called for Xiao and now? Now you stood in the middle of a forest, no Xiao in sight but also the enemies who cornered you just now were also gone. For how long you wandered around, confused and not sure what had happened you didn’t know. It scared you. You screamed his name, over and over again but you couldn’t hear your own voice. You just couldn’t make a sound.

He didn’t mean to come across that place again. Xiao learned to live with the guilt and grief he felt, just as he had to learn to live with his karmic debt. Still, it hurts more than he likes to admit. So when he stumbled upon the place he lost you all those years ago, he asked himself how he ended up here again. Something was telling him he should come here, but he tried to ignore that voice, that calling. But when he saw your ghostly figure between the trees of the forest, it used to be a plain field when you had died, he froze. Was it really you? “(Y/N)?”, he called out to you. Oh, how long he hadn’t said your name. It felt foreign, but also so familiar at the same time. But you didn’t hear nor see him, you were too lost after years of roaming the fields that grew to a forest – not being able to understand that time passed, that you were dead. Xiao came closer to your ghost and saw how you screamed something, over and over. His name. It was his name. “(Y/N) it’s me, I’m here. Please, I’m here, it’s okay”, his voice was strained and when your face met his – Xiao noticed how you didn’t look at him. You looked right through him, he noticed now how he couldn’t reach you with his words nor his presences. He tried to grab you, but his hand only touched the air. If he could at least hear you call his name. Xiao felt how his tears ran down his face, his heart shattering again in thousand pieces. Why hadn’t he noticed it earlier how you roamed the earth, lost and scared. He saw it in your face. Why didn’t he come here earlier? It pained him to know that you hadn’t found your peace. Xiao went down on his knees, face buried in his hands. The last time he felt so helpless was when he found your dead body, unable to help you. And now? Now it happened again, he had no idea what he could do to help you, to make you see him. From that day on Xiao spend most of his time watching over your ghost, hoping that one day he’ll hear you call out to him again.

[sxzntougiyuu]

HERE FOR THE TWO OF YOU — VERGIL (DEVIL MAY CRY) X FEM! READER

• AUTHOR's NOTE — This is my first time posting something from Devil May Cry and my first time writing something to Vergil. Most of my drafts are with Dante or Nero, I have a great deal of insecurity when it comes to Sparda's eldest son. I had the idea for this one-shot recently and tried my best to create a cute and domestic Vergil. English is not my first language, so there may be some mistakes. (Temporary name because I can't think of anything better hahaha)

• SUMMARY — A stressful moment for Vergil, turns into a very adorable and fun moment for you.

• WARNINGS — Fluff and funny! Vergil hates the internet and stupid cribs. Reader teasing. Dante and Nero are mentioned.

• WORD COUNT — 1, 468k

"Don't look at me that way"

You bit the inside of your cheek, holding back your laughter.

"What shape, baby?"

He snorted, annoyed, and didn't answer you.

"I know what I'm doing, Y/N"

"Uhum"

"I am Sparda's son, I have faced and killed thousands of demons and people. I almost destroyed the human world" Vergil fiddled with some pieces, trying unsuccessfully to make them fit. "I can set up a crib."

Your attempt to contain your laughter went down the drain and you burst into a low laugh, which made Vergil even angrier. It wasn't you fault if he was almost 2 hours trying to assemble that crib. Vergil analyzed each piece as if it were the most complex object in the world, simply because he refused to look on the internet as it could be assembled.

For some shipping error, the cradle came without an instruction manual. Her husband was irritated and found a lack of professionalism, so much so that he almost returned the object just for that reason. In the end he thought he could do it alone, without any instruction since, in his words, he was Sparda's son, half man, half demon, he could handle a crib, right?

"You are not helping." He muttered, not looking at you. The challenge in front of you being more important now.

When you managed to restrain yourself, you sat up in the chair you were resting on, your hand stroking your big pregnant belly. "I'm sorry, baby but you look so ... comical ..." You had to bite your tongue to keep from laughing again. Vergil glanced in his direction. "Fighting our baby's crib."

He sighed heavily, turning his attention to the pieces, while you continued to speak. "It's just funny how you fought so many demons, faced Arkham, Dante and everything and, after all, your biggest rival is a cradle without a manual."

You can see when Vergil clenched his jaw, pure irritation on his features. He was 5 steps away from exploding and you seemed to be having a lot of fun with it, which only made the situation worse. But you still wished he would let go, stop being so stoic and see the fun side of it all.

"That's not funny."

"It might not be for you, but it is for me." He rolled his eyes. "Come on, baby. It's not that bad."

"This is humiliating."

"These cribs are complex, it happens. You don't have to be all grumpy about it."

"I think our son better sleep with us until we buy him a bed."

"Oh, sure. That would be great." With sarcasm, you told him. "And where is our privacy in this story? How about you just surrender to the good old internet, Verge?"

"Ridiculous."

"Don't be so grimace, you won't die if you read something other than a book."

"Internet is for fools, I can do it myself."

"Then stay two more hours in this battle of yours, dear."

You looked at him with a smug look, with your cell phone in hand, swinging at him and with a raised eyebrow. Vergil looked back at him, an internal competition from who would give in first. You were clearly in the lead. You always had the advantage, whether you were pregnant or not. In the end he always did what you asked, even grumpy.

"I promise I won't tell Dante"

With that promise he sighed heavily and accepted your cell phone, rolling his eyes and pretending not to be happy with the amused, victorious smile you gave him. What could he say? She loved when you smiled, hell. Anything to make you happy, even watching videos on the internet on how to set up a crib. Everything to satisfy you.

Vergil sat on the floor between his legs, browsing the information on his cell phone. You took the time to run your fingers through his silver locks, making a mess that left him satisfied and made him sigh with contentment.

While you hummed some melody, the baby's room felt so cozy. Even though it was still a bit messy because of the disassembled crib with scattered pieces, the toy basket in the corner and the dresser, which was a gift from Nero, in some corner until you two finally decided which place would be better. At least the wallpaper was already in place. The baby blue was cute and matched the atmosphere of the small room and it was the first thing about the baby that you both agreed to.

Almost as if he was also satisfied, his son gave a few kicks of happiness. In her 7 months of gestation, this was not the first time. It was a great emotion when he kicked the first time, but whenever that happened, you couldn't help but call Vergil to make him feel it too. You wanted him to be more comfortable around your son, you knew how difficult it could be for him.

"Verge!" You got his attention. "He kicked! The baby is kicking again! Put your hands, feel it!" Smiling widely at Vergil, you looked almost thrilled. He put the phone down just to feel it too, his hands clasping his belly.

"Say something." You encouraged him.

Vergil was still baffled by this. Not knowing what to say or how to react, every time he just kept silent and let you sing or talk to your pregnant belly so you can feel the baby kicking too. He never did it for himself, it was always you. Vergil pretended he didn't care, but a part of him would also like to make his son so happy he kicks with glee.

You knew he was charging himself too much. He was not a father present to Nero and now he wanted here for the son you two were expecting, but Vergil still had a lot of barriers. You destroyed some by showing him love and affection, being the safe haven he needed, helping him build a home and overcoming his past, helping him get closer to the son he barely knew, but Vergil was still a little complicated. Having a child was asking a lot of you both, so much so that even setting up a crib made you stressed just because you didn't feel enough for that.

When you stopped to reflect, I didn't like seeing it that way and tried my best to show that it was normal not to be able to do things as futile as this. The two of you had your own way of relating, talking and understanding. It was no different now. You were encouraging him as much as possible to try to talk to your child again.

"Say anything."

"Um ..." He studied his belly. Your two hands meeting over it, you rested yours over his.

"Seriously, baby. Anything." She said softly, smiling at him.

"Um ... hello" Vergil wanted to kick himself for saying something so stupid, but he just couldn't think of anything. "Eh .." he cleared his throat. "I don't think I can do this, Y/N."

A baby kick and you opened your eyes wide. "Keep talking." He looked agitated now.

"What? Say what?"

"Anything, Verge. Come on, it's not that difficult."

"H-hello baby… I'm your father."

You laughed. "You sound like Darth Vader now."

Vergil snorted.

"Tell him that you are trying to set up your crib"

"Tell you that I'm being slaughtered by a stupid crib?" You laughed and the baby stirred again.

"Oh, I think he liked that."

"Yeah, he's definitely your son. He likes to make fun of my suffering." He pretended to be offended, a scowl on your face, while you rolled your eyes.

"He just knows that his father is very stubborn and has a lot of fun with it."

"Just like you."

"Like me."

Vergil dropped his gaze to his belly again. Thumbs caressing prominence.

"You are very lucky to be like your mother, boy" he says, sincerely, without looking away from his belly. "You couldn't look like someone better. I hope you are as kind, as brave and unique as she is"

"And I hope you are as strong as your father." You completed, fighting back tears. "He may not know how to set up a crib and hate the internet ..." Vergil snorted, pretending to be uncomfortable. "... But he will definitely protect you from all harm. We will both go."

Vergil shook his hand affectionately. A sweet smile welling up on your lips, adoration in your eyes while admiring you and your child still in your belly.

Yes, you were right. Vergil might not be able to set up a stupid crib, but he could do the possible and the impossible for both of you. Move skies and seas just to keep them safe.

And he always would.

He would be here for the two of you.

[ughseoks]

the story of us | ksj

— pairing; seokjin x reader

— genre; angst, slight fluff in beginning & end

— word count; 1.6k

— warnings; angst, small fight, two stubborn dummies refusing to communicate properly

— summary; you thought that the story of you and jin was one that had a fairytale ending, but a miscommunication leaves you scrambling to ensure it doesn’t end in tragedy instead.

「based on “the story of us” by taylor swift」

— masterlist —

From the moment you met, you hoped that one day, you’d be able to tell your kids the story of you and Jin. You’d be able to recount how his cheeks tinted pink when your gazes locked, sparks flying instantly; how you crossed the room to talk to the mystery boy with broad shoulders, and a feeling of right tugged deep in your gut.

Your relationship blossomed from the first hello, and before you knew it, you and Jin were attached at the hip. Friends and family would always tell you that the two of you were “the lucky ones,” and you couldn’t deny it. How you’d managed to find Jin amongst the sea of people at your university still left you clueless, but one thing was for sure: you had no intention of ever letting him go.

It’s funny how in just one week, everything can change.

Glancing at your phone, you pushed open the door to the library. Your first instinct was to search the room for the tall, elegant creature that was Jin— but you stopped yourself short. Just a week prior, everyone knew that your place was the spot next to him, but now, you were searching the room for an empty seat. The large building was filled to the brim with students studying, sleeping, and frantically completing almost-due assignments. Casting your gaze to the floor, you plopped down at the nearest vacant table, pulling out your laptop to continue writing your literary analysis.

After a few minutes of staring at the halfway-completed document, you sighed in frustration, running a hand through your tousled hair. Normally, you were a quick writer, the words flowing from your fingertips with ease; but now, you couldn’t seem to form a coherent sentence.

As much as you hated to admit it, the source of your distraction was Jin. The argument that the two of you had three nights prior was the only thing you could focus on, and it was affecting both your work and school life way more than you’d like to admit. Resting your chin on the palm of your hand, you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block out the memories begging for your attention.

“Lately, I don’t even know what page you’re on!” you yelled, throwing up your hands in frustration, “It’s like you aren’t even you anymore. What happened?”

Recently, you’d felt like something new had formed between you. Something more than being just friends. But, clearly, you were wrong. Jin had grown distant from you; he was staying out into the late hours of the night, ignoring your texts and calls, and showing up to school with the darkest under eye bags you’d ever seen. You didn’t know if it was because he sensed a change in your feelings for him or some other underlying issue, but what hurt you the most was that he was choosing to distance himself rather than confide in you.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Jin retorted, desperation and panic seeping into his tone, “I’m still the same Jin you’ve always known. Nothing has changed!”

“You know that’s a lie,” you growled, pointing an accusing finger at him, “I can tell when you’re lying. Just tell me what’s going on!”

He clenched his jaw, averting his gaze from your fiery eyes.

“Is…” your voice dropped to a soft tone, emotion causing it to shake slightly, “Is it because of me?”

“What do you mean?” he replied, still not looking at you.

“Don’t pretend like you haven’t noticed it,” your voice had developed a bitter undertone to it; after all, you couldn’t believe he was denying what had been happening between the two of you. “You and I… I see us as being… more than just friends. Do you not feel the same way? Is that why you’ve been distant?”

Jin’s eyes blew wide open in shock, but it was only a moment before his face turned stone cold and the answer that you’d been dreading floated past his lips with an insulting level of ease.

“Yeah, it is.”

Miscommunication leads to fallouts. You and Jin were both well aware of that. But some invisible wall kept the two of you divided, and no matter how many things you wished he knew, the wall you’d erected seemed to grow taller and thicker each day. It stood tall and proud, guarding your already fragile heart from being dealt the final blow that would inevitably shatter it into a million, glittering Jin-shaped pieces.

Letting out a groan, you slammed your laptop shut, sliding it into your bag and storming out of the library. Clearly, you weren’t going to get any work done.

How did you and Jin end up this way?

It was three weeks later when you found yourself in the middle of a party, nervously pulling at your sweatshirt and trying to look busy. Scanning the room anxiously, your gaze unexpectedly locked with Jin’s. His eyes widened in shock before he spun on his heel, leaving you behind him without so much as a peep.

That was the first time you’d seen him in person since the argument. You hadn’t expected him to act like nothing had happened— after all, you weren’t sure you wanted to pretend like you were suddenly best friends again, either— but you didn’t expect him to flat out ignore you. Swallowing the growing lump in your throat, you tried to find a familiar face amongst the crowd, pushing back the thought of Jin doing his very best to avoid you.

Once upon a time, you thought you’d tell the story of how you almost lost your mind when you saw Jin for the first time; how he walked you home that night to make sure you’d make it home safe and sound because you were “too nice to die at the hands of a creepy old man on the street at 11pm.”

But now, he held his pride like he should’ve held you.

God, you were scared to see the ending of this story. Why were you both pretending like this was nothing? It was getting to be too much for your body and mind to handle, and judging by the dark circles you’d spotted under Jin’s eyes, he wasn’t faring much better than you.

Words couldn’t describe just how badly you wanted to run into his arms and tell him how much you missed him. But you had no idea how to.

Pulling out your phone, you drafted message after message, only to delete each of them a few seconds after typing them. The last messages sent between you were from two weeks ago, and the last time you’d actually talked in person had been almost three.

Yet you’d still check your phone at least once every hour, hoping to see a notification from him, just to be let down by a blank screen.

Huffing, you slipped your phone into your pocket and ran a hand through your hair, frustration and confusion coursing through your veins as you stood alone in the crowded room. Sure, you’d had arguments with Jin before, but you swore you’d never heard silence quite this loud. Inside, you were dying to know if it was killing him like it was killing you, but you didn’t know what to say or ask to get past this roadblock.

This terrible twist of fate had shattered everything, and the once fairytale-like story of you and Jin was starting to look a lot more like a tragedy now.

In an emotionally fueled rampage, you suddenly yanked your phone back out of your pocket. Your fingers slammed into the keyboard over and over again, not giving yourself enough time to think twice about what you’d typed out until after you hit send.

You: hey. can we talk?

You were sick and tired of competing for the title of who could act like they cared less… you just wanted Jin back. Although you might be stubborn, you liked it better when the two of you were on the same side, and you were more than willing to lay your armor down if he would admit that he’d rather love than fight.

Sighing, you turned your screen off once more, sliding your phone into your pocket. The battle was in his hands now, so there was no point in letting this ruin the rest of your night.

Jin’s heart was beating a million times a minute as he stared at his phone screen, reading the text message from you over and over again. All he had to do was reply to the four simple words, but for some reason, he couldn’t find it in himself to respond.

The question really only required a one-word response, so why was this so hard? Was he scared of the conversation that would inevitably follow? The chance of having his heart broken? Or was he, deep down, still trying to pretend like nothing was really wrong?

There were thousands of thoughts racing through Jin’s mind as he continued to stare at the screen, wishing there was a way to express what he was feeling. He had so many things to tell you, but he didn’t know how, and he was sure that if he stared for even a second longer he might shut down.

“Everything okay, dude?” Hoseok put a hand on Jin’s shoulder, throwing his friend a concerned glance, “You seem a little out of it.”

“Y-Yeah,” Jin locked his phone after sending a quick reply, sliding it into his pocket with only a moment’s hesitation, “I’m good.”

Jinnie: sure. let’s call later tonight.

a/n; this is a day early bc i love jin & i’m high on that mots:7 juice right now. sorry for the angst & messy writing. but i wrote this in like an hour with no editing and hey, at least there’s implied fluff at the end, right??

— masterlist —

© ughseoks 2020, all rights reserved. do NOT modify, translate, or repost my works. modification, translations, and/or redistribution of my works on any platform is strictly prohibited.

[vaguekiwi]

*reads violet rain ch27* *screams internally for 10mins straight* *wanders off in a daze to get a drink and some chocolate* fsck I need some fluffy comfort fics now

I’m gonna reply to all your asks right here I hope that’s okay ❤️ This was like 100% my fault for being offline but there’s a whole damn conversation under the cut 😂

FSCKING BECK WHEN WILL HE DIE!?!?! lol. Oh boy. My starker heart came to life when Peter thought that somehow Tony was there to save him, and then my starker heart shrivelled into a sad little lump when Peter was on the brink of letting Tony die. But I have to say it did feel painfully realistic, like yeah, if he just let Tony die maybe a lot of problems would be solved. Seems like their relationship has another 100k words to go in order to get anywhere good! Which I for one, welcome! Lol

YES GOD BECK IS INFURIATING IN THIS FIC. I was rereading 16 and 18 the other day (which are Beck’s chapters) and I was like ‘man, I even knew what was coming and these chapters are still SO unsettling on the reread 😂’

I think that the moment where Peter has the opportunity to let Tony die (ostensibly at no fault of his own, albeit he designed the poison sooo 👀🤷‍♀️) is a really important moment for the fic. It digs into that idea that gets brought up in 28 that this is more a reflection of Peter’s character and the concept of divine grace, rather than Tony. Don’t get me wrong, I love Tony. But Violet Rain I think is more of a Peter fic 😄 And… just in the directions things ended up going in, that climactic moment centres more on Peter’s character and concepts of forgiveness rather than revenge.

Their relationship probably does have another 100k words to go to get to a stable place… but umm… we can follow up on this after 29 and 30 are posted 😂

-yo yo just read ch28 of violet rain and like i think this is the first chapter in months that did NOT send my blood pressure through the roof so thank you for that lol. just absolutely incredible what a rollercoaster this has been you should do something fun to celebrate when you get to the end of this fic!

i loved Tony's coma visions of his family and his conversation with Ben. in my opinion it was absolutely spot on - peter didn't save tony because of who tony is, he saved Tony because of who he (peter) is. and that's true grace! nice! like everyone else, i ADORED the cuddling. i like to think that despite everything some part of tony and peter realises that there's this unacknowledged potential & burgeoning chemistry between them. if they had only met under different circumstances...*heart eyes*

also i find violet rain amazing because I feel I could be fine with an ending where Tony annuls the marriage & leaves, then Peter just happily rules Arachne, the end! and they're both like, ok, that was a crazy few months, guess i was kind of attracted to you, occasionally felt a weird connection with you, but never mind lol. meanwhile i, the starker-shipping reader, crumbles into a pile of ashes haha. but that ending would absolutely make sense and be fine! i need to ramble more about this

i'm just so invested in violet rain's ending because like I said, i think it could go either way & make perfect sense. i was just imagining an epilogue where Tony and Peter get word of each other's re-marriage/engagement, Tony to some nice noblewoman & Peter to some nice duke/soldier, & they're both like, oh,that's nice! congratulations & there's some weird unexpected wistfulness & mixed feelings but ultimately acceptance, so it's one of those bittersweet endings that haunts readers FOREVER lmao

I'm so sorry for the spam and ramblings from my imagination haha. I just can't remember the last time I was so invested in a fic! ch28 was such a welcome change of pace for me and my heart rate lol compared to the last i don't know how many chapters! i absolutely love peter refusing to leave Tony for even a second. is it just because he's the only one with the required medical expertise? or also for other, subconscious reasons he's left unexamined? regardless, it made my shipper heart happy!

Yeah, I was quite adamant that 28 not end on a big cliffhanger/scary moment. I didn’t even really want to mention the annulment again, I wanted the end of 28 to just be soft and sweet between the boys. But, part of Tony’s little moral shift involved mentioning the annulment. And I didn’t want it to be forgotten about when it comes up again, so my beta and I added a beat right at the end of 28 which mentions it.

I am so happy you liked Tony’s dreams/visions/whatever-they-actually-were lol 😅 Originally, Ben was kinda weirdly-nice to Tony and my betareader ended up pushing for a harsher tone, which I think ended up working out GREAT. Because, the dreams needed to read as EITHER an ethereal/paranormal experience for Tony OR as Tony’s subconscious speaking to himself, what would Tony think these people will say/do.

“If they had met under different circumstances” is really the kicker, isn’t it? I have an ex who I often think of as being ‘the right person at the wrong time’. He very well could have been the absolute-endgame-love-of-my-life. He was effortless for me: we had many of the same values, many of the same interests, we were compatible in many ways, etc. But I think that endgame would only have existed if we’d met differently and once we were older. Now, he and I never hurt one another as egregiously as Tony hurts Peter or anything like that. But it’s very hard to walk away from so much potential just because the timing or setting or external factors didn’t work out.

And honestly? You just being on board with a non-Starker ending? 🥺🥺 That makes me so soft. I’m glad the direction of the story fits and the thought of that tiny bit of heartbreak-wistful-but-still-satisfying-happyish-ending is actually exactly what I’m going for (though, spoiler alert, your proposal here isn’t how it ends 😅) It’s something bittersweet; acknowledging that a lot of pain and heartbreak has occurred but still finding a way to move forward. They have a lot of life left to live, after all!

I’m a big fan of the artist Sleeping at Last and his songs Three and Light have been on my mind a lot as I draft the end of the fic. Three has a whole thing about past regrets and doing enough to make up for them, even though humans are automatically worthy of love/grace/etc.

Please never ever apologise for talking to me about this fic. As you can tell from this reply (which I actually pared down, lmao) I have SO much to talk about regarding my own life, this fic, different scenes, the brainstorming/drafting/re-brainstorming/re-drafting/revising process, etc. I think once I’m done I’m gonna write up a really big reflection for myself and there’s no doubt in my mind it’ll be like ten thousand words lmao.

And as for Peter staying by Tony’s side: Peter Parker’s a control freak 😂 Part of it is that he has the most expertise, but he also mentions in Ch. 28 that if he did go sleep somewhere else then he wouldn’t be able to sleep because he’d be worried about Tony. So, there is indeed something subconscious keeping him by Tony’s side in addition to his perceived obligation as a doctor (he did the same thing with Rhodey in Chs. 7-8.)

I really really hope the end of the fic holds up my end of the bargain to you and other readers with this whole crazy adventure❤️❤️❤️ I’m not sure right now when 29 and 30 will be up, but I can’t wait for you to read them ❤️❤️❤️

[nikibogwater]

A Shot in the Dark: Chapter 2 (Author’s Commentary--pt 1)

Read the fic here

Author’s Commentary pt. 2

General Notes:

Yes, I actually had to split the commentary into two parts because there was just So. Much. Going on in this chapter. We shifted over to Douxie’s perspective as he and Nari spent a lovely day about NYC, were properly introduced to the antagonist, and ended on what is probably the cruelest cliffhanger I have ever left anyone on ever (I’m soooooorry...! 😅). I swear I tried to carve this down as much as I could, but even so, there was just way too much to talk about for one post. So in Pt 1 of the commentary, I’ll be talking about the Magical Siblings and their Therapy Cat, but Pt 2 is going to be all about Rivan, because I have a lot to say about this Classy Boi. 

One significant thing about this chapter is that it is my first time writing Douxie in Distress. There’s not really any moment in the show where Douxie is completely stripped of every last one of his defenses and put into a situation where he has no choice but to rely on others--which is fine! I love me one Badass Wizard Boi. But I did want to explore the concept because it opens up opportunities to expand on Douxie’s character. There is more to it than that, but I can’t say anything more until after Chapter 3 has been posted. 

All right, now let’s get into some Passage-Specific notes.

Passage-Specific Notes:

It was a bit like witnessing a long-lost family reunion from the outside, and Douxie felt a strange ache settle in his heart as he followed the tiny forest goddess, who danced from one place to another, wide eyes glowing like sunlit amber.

“...She should have this all the time,” he murmured to Archie, who, after having his own little roll in the grass, had returned to his perch on Douxie’s shoulder. “She shouldn’t be stuck in that prison cell of an apartment.”

This is probably one of my favorite instances of Douxie showing off his Big Brother Energy. He is naturally a very kind-hearted person who believes everyone deserves the freedom to live their best lives (See Ep. 4: “The Lady of the Lake”) but in this scene, he’s not wishing for Nari’s freedom and happiness because of some abstract sense of empathy--Douxie loves Nari, and seeing her happy makes him happy. But he is also bound to his duty as her protector, and that forces him to put aside both her desires and his own in order to keep her safe. He has to balance the line between Responsible Guardian and Loving Brother. I just really enjoyed taking this moment to explore the nature of their relationship, and the impact it has on Douxie, even if it is a somewhat bittersweet scene. 

“What do you suppose it would take for Americans to learn how to make a decent cup of tea?” Douxie grumbled, glaring at the disposable coffee cup in his hand as though it had personally offended him. “Seems like any hack street vendor with a pot and a filter can be taught to make a solid enough cup of coffee in this country, but ask them for a simple cup of water with a bag of leaves in it, and somehow no one knows how to do it properly.”

My new favorite game is “How Many Times in a Single Story Can I Not-So-Subtly Remind My Audience That Douxie is Very British?”  

“Sweet tea is an abomination and I only let you get one because we’re eating out. But never shall such a detestable liquid be found under my roof.” Nari pulled her cup closer to her in a mock show of defensiveness and giggled.

I really love it when the Magical Siblings get playful like this, especially given all the crap that they’ve seen/been through. Also I did some research on sweet tea just for this line--it is an American beverage, and is made by sweetening a dark tea--such as the kind Douxie always drinks. Hence the reason he views it as an abomination--how dare we filthy Americans tamper with the sacred British liquid (although to be fair, I think he’s playing up his “hatred” for it for the sake of humor. Douxie’s pretty chill about most things). 

“I...I think we should go home,” Nari squeaked. “He just....gives me a bad feeling.”

“Alright,” Douxie agreed, rising from his place and lifting Archie up onto his shoulder. He moved around the table and took Nari’s hand as she stood, squeezing it reassuringly when her other hand came up to anxiously grip his sleeve.

It was really important to me that Douxie not brush off Nari’s intensifying anxiety. Maybe she’s being a little unfair here (Rivan can’t help the fact that she can’t sense his life force/aura) but still, she feels unsettled, and Douxie responds to that by removing her from the situation, even though they still don’t have any proof that Rivan is actually following them. Douxie even begins to grow anxious about the situation himself, going so far as to double up on the concealing spell around Nari’s aura. It’s a small moment, but I like to think it displays the level of trust these two have developed over the last few months.

Even at his most desperate, Douxie wasn’t demanding. But he was begging with every ounce of his heart, calling on the bone-deep affection that had always bound these two together.

“...Yes, Hisirdoux,” Archie sighed, and Douxie’s heart ached with a rush of love and gratitude for his Familiar.

This scene was originally drafted as being on the opposite end of the emotional spectrum--Douxie was going to snap and give Archie a direct order--something he knew a Familiar can’t ignore, and it was going to be this gut-wrenching moment of Angst. But I realized very quickly that, after almost a thousand years of flawless teamwork and mutual support, these two are VERY unlikely to have a relationship fumble that intense. Also, it really would’ve just been pointless drama. So instead I leaned into the warmth and comfort of just how close and trusting Douxie and Archie are with one another, to the point that when Douxie begs Archie to do the one thing he doesn’t want to (leave Douxie), Archie acquiesces. 

“...N-no. Archie...!” Nari stammered, looking frantically between the two of them. “Douxie, please!”

“Everything’s going to be fine, sweetheart,” Douxie soothed, giving her a gentle nudge forward. “I’ll meet you both back at the apartment later.”

Douxie using “sweetheart” on Nari is actually very significant here. While Douxie is a Pro-Tier Sweet-Talker who absolutely uses pet names on both friend and foe alike, Nari is the one exception to that rule (this is actually the first time in the series that he’s used a pet name on her). Douxie respects Nari in a way that is unique to their relationship. She’s a much-loved part of his family, yes, but she is also eons old, and a demigoddess, and whether consciously or unconsciously, I think Douxie is aware of that for the most part. So the fact that he caves and accidentally calls her Sweetheart here indicates that in this moment, he’s not seeing her as Nari the Ancient Sorceress, but as Nari the Child, Nari the Little Sister--someone who he wants to shield from the harsh reality they’re facing. So he makes her a promise he knows he might not be able to keep. Because sometimes, grown-ups lie in order to protect the children in their care. It’s not right, but in the heat of the moment, it’s all he can think to do.

There was a click and a soft whirring sound, and suddenly the magic in Douxie’s hand was pulled out of his grasp, leaving his fingers cold and empty. The wizard cast a frantic look down at his right arm to see an iron band locked around it, the intricate engravings glowing the same color as his own magic.

Just a short fun fact: The Inhibitor Cuff was actually originally conceived for my 12th Century Siblings AU. 

“Spare me the pleasantries,” Douxie interrupted. “I’ll die before I’ll let the Order anywhere near her.”...

...Douxie stared back at Rivan defiantly, his jaw clenched shut, though behind his back, his hands were trembling with dread.

Writing Douxie in Distress like this was...tricky. I’ll talk more about this in pt. 2, but it was really hard to know when Douxie would drop his trademark sass and just be Dead Serious. His interactions with Morgana and the Arcane Order are mostly just him being a cocky little punk, but I also think that might have had something to do with the fact that he was never completely helpless in those situations. Apart from the few seconds he was held down by a corrupted Jim, Douxie always had at least some level of defense in those conflicts. But he has absolutely no power in this situation--his magic has been cancelled out, he’s tied to a chair in an abandoned warehouse miles away from home with no way of contacting his friends for backup, and the only thing standing between the Arcane Order and Nari at this point is his refusal to talk. So he drops the sass and just gets Stubborn. He wants to make it abundantly clear that he knows what Rivan could do to him--and that he doesn’t give a damn. He’s not talking, no matter what.

...Ngl, that’s very sexy of him.

[angel-deux-writes]

Now that Honor Compels Me is finally done, I wanted to do a round-up of all the things I remember that made me say “I feel like I need to tell someone what almost happened here” or “I should probably explain this later lol”, along with my reasons for cutting the last few chapters/what would have happened in them. It’s prob going to be very long, which I apologize for, but I’ll bold the headings so that you can skip to the parts you’re interested in!

I’ll reblog it and add more as I think of them, but for now: 

Dark Dany: VERY originally, like way back in the OG plotline from 2017, Dany was an antagonist, and Margaery Tyrell was Robb’s queen. Dany would have died fighting Cersei in Kings Landing, with the same result (Cersei was ALWAYS going to go out by wildfire lmao). I changed it both because a) it seemed like too many Conveniently Alive people for one story and b) after the shitty ending Dany got, I decided I would try my hand at writing a Dany I could actually root for! For years I’ve been a big proponent/fan of the idea that Dany is eventually going to be an antagonist in the books, but the way it was handled in the show was so irredeemably stupid (gassing her up and gaslighting/scolding her fans later who didn’t see it coming, making her switch at the drop of a hat for the majority of the general audience just for the sake of a twist, etc). I ended up really loving the version of Dany I created. I tried not to soften her TOO much, which is why I had her wrestle with herself even up to the very end (like thinking “I won” after the explosion in Kings Landing and hating herself for it). I didn’t want all the flaws that make me not support canon Dany to disappear just because I started to like her! I do think that writing this story made me like Dany more overall. I still don’t support her canon actions, and I also probably won’t in the books, but I came to find her more compelling as I wrote her. I’m a lot less afraid to write her now than I have been in the past, though I’ll continue to add warnings to all my stories that feature Dark Dany, bc yall Dany stans have been through enough. 

More Death: At various points Dany, Theon, Bran, and Arya were going to die. 

Dany was already pointed out. 

I had Theon die in the Long Night in the plot outline just out of laziness/in keeping with canon, until I remembered that Redemption = Death is stupid and I wasn’t gonna do it. 

Bran was going to die after warging into Drogon and being caught in the explosion of the Red Keep. That actually stayed in until a few weeks ago! I told a bunch of people that Bran was going to die! It was the plan all along! And then I realized that “somebody has to die” was a shitty way of looking at it, and I changed it. I think a lot of this process of changing things was me trying to write what I thought people wanted vs what story I actually wanted to tell. Sure it’s a little fairy tale ending this way, but it’s my story, and who cares? Happy endings are nice. Fuck off. 

Arya...I probably wouldn’t have ever actually gone through with it, because I am a coward, but there was an idea of a VERY heavy-handed “revenge is bad” message with Arya where Arya was much more savage and instead of turning back into Arya, she was turning farther and farther away from her. She couldn’t reconcile with the Lannisters, she rejected her bonds with her family. In the end she would be unable to let go of her list, would refuse to grow and change and realize that she had other things to live for, and she would have set off one of Qyburn’s traps in the Red Keep, igniting the whole thing, killing Drogon and Rhaegal (and Bran) and leading to the deaths of thousands. AGAIN I was like “that’s too dark” and scrapped the idea, but it was definitely toyed with. I love Arya as a character, so this plotline for her would have definitely been more a reaction to fans of her who seem to want her to hold on to that vengeful seed inside of her. 

Prophecies: Listen, I do not give a fuck about any prophecies. I really don’t. Every fantasy universe has some kind of involved backstory that some fans love to get mired in, but I am not one of those fans. Still, I tried to deliver on two of them lmao. 

Azor Ahai ended up being Jaime, with Ice/Oathkeeper and Maiden’s Heart being Lightbringer. Originally, I had Brienne killing the Night King, without any thought to the prophecy at all, but that was another case of “people will like it if Brienne kills the Night King” and I realized that I would like it better if it was Jaime. I’m not sure how it checks out literally, but I figured it worked with a) tempering in water = splitting Ice. b) heart of a lion = Jaime’s change of heart after the Highgarden Battle. c) Nissa Nissa = Brienne’s “maiden’s heart” breaking during the Highgarden Battle. It was Brienne who did the stabbing, but it was Jaime who made it happen, so I figured that made sense. I made sure to mention Brienne’s tears and all the smoke when Jaime was wounded, so he could be “reborn amidst salt and smoke” or whatever, and I had Bran mention a rebirth for him in the next chapter. Which was maybe a little on the nose, but IDK GUYS I FEEL LIKE IT CHECKS OUT! 

I know the show never dove into the Valonqar prophecy at all, and I think we all know that I absolutely HATE the idea of Jaime being the Valonqar, so I would rather not think about it AT ALL. But Bran AND Rhaegal were both kind of responsible for Cersei’s death in the end, so take your pick of which Little Brother actually did the deed! 

Deleted Chapters: I promise you, you are not missing anything with these deleted chapters. They were always messy, and no matter how many times I edited them, they felt too forced and “now let me explain the ending”. 

Sansa: Sansa’s chapter followed Jaime’s and was primarily about her going to Robb and Dany and the three of them talking about the future of Westeros. The Dany/Robb conversation about it was originally absent--the last Robb chapter was added to fill in the gaps when I deleted this and the other chapters--so this would have been the first time it was discussed. It then would have had a time jump and a wedding scene, which I could never make work! It was such a jarring time jump in the middle of a chapter, and I didn’t think the wedding was particularly exciting to write about lmao. 

Tyrion: Tyrion’s chapter would have been Dany being crowned and announcing to everyone that she and her people are going to be dismantling the monarchy and setting up a new government. I think I had her give a period of a few years in which she and Robb would rule, but they were going to be transitioning governments in that time. Kind of the same idea as in What a King Should Look Like. Bronn also showed up, DID in fact get a minor holdfast, and was mocked by both Lannisters for bowing out before he could have earned himself a better one. Olenna found some bastard daughter to legitimize and continue her house.

Brienne: Brienne’s arc was a lot more drawn out in the original draft, and I ended up editing it a few times and making it shorter. VERY originally, this chapter would have been her wedding with Jaime, at which she has the “wow he actually loves me, huh?” realization. Which I thought was funny as I plotted it out, but in execution it wasn’t as good as I wanted it to be, so I moved the realization to an earlier chapter. The original was also going to be Jaime giving up his name entirely, and Brienne cloaking him, but as we have discussed before, I am in fact a coward, so I just deleted the whole chapter lmao. In all seriousness, at this point the endings just felt like Return of the King, and Into the West was actually the chosen song for this chapter, because I knew even as I was writing it that I was doing Too Much lmao. 

Robb: Robb’s last chapter was essentially just a total wrap up chapter. Just Robb and Dany being sappy, Robb being happy he was still alive, and the two of them planning the future. They were at Riverrun for this part, i’m pretty sure, or it might have been Dragonstone? I had trouble even filling this chapter with enough words for it to be a full chapter, because it was basically just an epilogue. As the story progressed, this chapter felt more and more like I was just performing to the “Robb’s Alive” crowd, which I didn’t particularly want to do, because Robb being alive was always a feature, not the focus, of this story. 

That’s all the stuff I can think of for now! If anyone has any particular questions you can message me or inbox me about them and I’d be happy to talk about it! 

[talpup]

Crossroads:2

Summary: Loss will make a person do terrible things they never thought themselves capable of doing. Things like wanting the mobsters responsible for your little brothers death to pay so badly you’ll summon a Demon to make it happen.

Maya did just that, but little did she know that the Demon would ask for her soul as the price. Or that when she refused give it to him, he would put her in the path of someone possibly much worse.

Kai is offering to help her but what he wants is so much more than her soul. He wants her everything.

Please remember, this fic is rated explicit and has warnings of sex, violence, and other possible triggers.

***If you prefer reading off AO3 here’s the link for that: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23565748/chapters/56963527

If you enjoyed reading this at all please comment and let me know. Since I post for free, think of it as nice way of leaving a tip.  And since comments are the only thing that encourages me to keep editing and posting, it’s also a benefit for you.

Thank you to those who have left hearts.  And a VERY special thank you to those who have recently left comments or re-blogged. They REALLY mean a lot.

As always, an extra special thank you to @inorganicone2230 for their encouragement and friendship, and reading through the draft of this chapter.  This fic started as an idea back in January when they said they’d like to see me write a Kai centered fic.  Through their questions and inspiration Crossroads became a fleshed out story.  They even came up with the title and female insert/oc’s name.  I might be the one writing this fic; but it’s as much theirs as it is mine.

2.1

For the sixth morning in a row Maya woke up in a bed that wasn’t her own.  The horrid nightmare faded, leaving her feeling just as exhausted as when she had gone to bed.  She turned, bleary eyes focusing on the man whose room she slept in.

Chisaki Kai.

Her breath caught seeing his gold eyes locked on her.

“You were restless again.”

His words were spoken with such familiarity that it both agitated and put her at ease.

“I saw him die again.”  Maya confessed, turning away.

Kai put aside the papers he hadn’t looked at in more than an hour, the sight of her much more enthralling than the work he had to do. “It will lessen and fade.”

He sounded as if he were speaking from experience.  Then again, Maya supposed that as a mob boss Kai would have witnessed terrible things that haunted and were never truly forgotten.

A Mob Boss.  The idea was still hard to grasp.  The Demon Dabi had certainly spoken true when he had said he would give her another way to see her justice done.

Kai wasn’t the average Mob Boss, though he certainly didn’t seem any less ruthless.  At least not when he had agreed to help her see the men that killed her brother dead after hearing her story. She had thought the offer too good to be true, and when Kai had brought her back to the Shie Hassaikai’s compound she had been sure the payment for his help would be unsavory.

Not that she wasn’t unaccustomed to unsavory deals.  The ones she had occasionally been forced to make with the landlord to keep a roof over her brothers head when funds were short, made her feel dirty just thinking about it.  But Kai hadn’t asked for such favors.  At least not yet.

She sat up in the plush bed, hugging the soft sheet that probably cost as much as one months rent.

“I don’t know if I want them to fade.  Yet I want to wipe them away with something else.”  She said of the reel of memories that detailed her brothers death.  “Does that make sense?”

Kai looked her over, fingers twitching, wanting to rip the covering sheet away and expose her to view. “It does.”

She turned back to him.  He sat on the lounge that he had taken as his bed these past six nights, though by the look of him she doubted slept much.

The piece of furniture was likely a thousand times more comfortable than her bed back home, but she still felt bad for taking his bed.  Then again it was Kai who had said that she needed to sleep in his quarters.  His reason being so she wouldn’t be disturbed by his men knocking and sniffing around.  She might’ve thought the offer somewhat chivalrous if it had been an offer rather than an already decided statement.

Her eyes skimmed over him, taking in his handsome face.  His fine tailored shirt and pants were rumbled. His jacket, tie, and vest, like his dust mask, long since removed once they had entered his private rooms.  The top two buttons of his shirt were undone and she couldn’t help but linger on the peek of chest and collarbone.

She had occasionally seen the definition of his chest and abs when the fabric of his shirt pulled just so. Even the sleeve garters, perfectly fitted as they were, strained slightly when his biceps flexed.

Kai sat back and let her get a good look.  It had become something of a morning routine with her. One he didn’t want to get too comfortable in.  He would much rather have a routine where he woke up beside her and fucked her into the bed.  But it had only been seven days.  He had to be patient.

He smirked seeing her gaze lower to where his semi-hard cock made a soft tent in his pants.

Just the sight of her in his bed.  Hair mussed.  Night gowns spaghetti strap hanging off a shoulder.  The outline of her body clearly visible under the single, thin sheet.  It stirred something inside him that no other ever had.

His fascination with her had been immediate and surprised even him.  But rather than question it, Kai accepted it. He had wanted her mind, body, and soul from the start.  And the more he learned about her the more that desire grew.

Her openness was a breath of fresh air.  And the fact that she had kept her innocence in spite what had happened was heartening. But just because she remained sweet and innocent didn’t mean that she would suffer vile deeds without seeking just retribution. She was strong in both will and spirit.  And her brand of justice suited his perfectly.

She was a woman that he could share his vision with.  She wouldn’t balk or be frightened by what he and the Shie Hassaikai were doing.  She would understand. She would celebrate his victories with him, and comfort him on trying days, like the one where her brother had died.  It was early times yet, but he could see her eventually giving him children.  A vested interest in seeing his plan come to fruition.  They would strive all the harder to see the filthy and immoral wiped from the earth so that his children could live and grow in an upright and wholesome society, unsullied by the sordid and depraved.

Kai got to his feet and stepped to her.  He brushed back her hair, sighing at the smooth, soft silkiness. He was so use to a detached dullness to everything he felt.  A barrier between him and the filth of the world.  He rarely went without his gloves, unless he was in his private rooms. And even then, the things he touched in his personal space where cold, and hard, and uninviting.

But not her.  She was soft, and warm, and oh so inviting.  The feel of her was a gaslight that burned in the best of ways.  The mere sight of her electricity, lighting up the dark recesses of his soul and showing him needs and desires he never knew he had.

He didn’t want anything between him and her. Didn’t want anything to limit or distance his feel of her. Anything to cover the sight of her.  Anything to shield her innermost thoughts and wants from view.  He would give this woman everything.  And he would take everything she had to give and more.

Maya glanced up at Kai.  She knew that look well enough.  She had seen it on the landlord and numerous others.  But Kai’s gaze held far more than lustful hunger.  There was something else. Something oppressive and almost menacing in his golden hues.  It sent a shiver down her spine, but she told herself it was just the chill from having woken from another nightmare.

Of course Kai’s eyes would hold a darkness that others didn’t.  He was a the leader of the Shie Hassaikai.  A yakuza that even the most violent of bootleggers feared.

Kai fingers curled under her chin, tilting her face up. “What do you say we wipe those memories away with something far more pleasing?”

Maya brightened and for a moment Kai’s soft smile grew.

“You found one of them?” She saw his smile falter and hurried on.  “I mean it’s not as if I had any doubts.  I knew you would. I just I didn’t expect it to be this soon.”

She got out of bed, wrapping the sheet around her.

Out of all the things Kai had provided for her, a robe hadn’t been one. Previously she had fought against him picking out clothes for her to wear each morning; even though she had eventually relented, knowing that she couldn’t exactly dictate how things went here if she wished to see her brother’s killers dead.  But today she’d happily wear whatever Kai wanted her to.

She shot him a smile as she made her way toward the large en suite bathroom.  “I can’t wait to see what you pick for me to wear today.”

The door was closed before Kai could get a word in edgewise.  Not that he would've corrected her faulty presumption.  He didn’t want her thinking less of him when she had been so happy and amazed.

It wasn’t as if he didn’t know who had started the shoot out that day. All For One was a brand of hard booze that Shigaraki Tomura and his gang bootlegged.  They were a relatively small but insidious group whose booze was sold in practically every speakeasy across several counties.

If the plan to poison their latest batch hadn’t been bundled, the world would've potentially been cleansed of thousands, if not tens of thousands of filthy carousers that sought nothing more than their own immoral pleasure.

While the Shigaraki men there that day had been mid-ranked, making a move on any member of the gang would be tantamount to war. Then again, he and his men were already at war with Shigaraki and any others that fed the public's unwholesome thirst.

Kai made his way through his quarters and opened the door to the rest of the house.  A young man that acted as both guard and page straightened and turned.

“Morning, Sir.”

“See that breakfast is prepared, and tell Hari to be in my office in an hour.”

The man nodded, curtly.  “Yes, Sir.”

Kai closed the door.  He would send Hari out to grab the first Shigaraki man he came across. He didn’t even have to be one of those who had been part of the shootout.  They were all guilty anyway.

He supposed it was time to start looking in truth for those that had been part of the shootout that day.  Maya deserved the justice she wanted after all.  And she undoubtedly be all the more grateful to him for giving it to her.

2.2

The day had passed slowly, with a growing tension.  By the time they retired back to Kai’s chambers it was easy to tell Maya was sour.

He pulled off his mask and unbuttoned his suit jacket, letting it slide off.  “You’ve been upset since breakfast. Care to tell me what the matter is?”  He stepped to her, fingers brushing back her hair and tilting her chin up.  “I can’t fix it unless I know what it is, Beautiful.”

Maya tired to turn her face away, but found her chin caught in Kai’s grip.

“Don’t turn away for me.”  His hold lightened, thumb brushing across her lips.  “I’ve given so much to you.  A promise of justice.  Safe place to live.  Warm, comfortable bed to rest.  Clothes worthy to be worn and touch the likes of you.  And what have I asked in return? Nothing.  The least you can do is show me the respect I am due by looking at and answering me.”

She would've argued that this was more of a place to stay, not live; and like the bed and clothes, something she hadn’t asked for.  But he had been right about her rudeness.  Kai did deserve her thanks and respect for what he was doing for her brother’s cause.

She blinked up at him and apologized.  “I’m sorry, Kai.  You’re right.”

Kai smiled, hand caressing her face.  She was just so soft and warm, he couldn’t help himself.  He just had to touch her.

“So tell me, Beautiful.  What’s been bothering you all day?”

She swallowed.  Would it seem ungrateful to say she was disappointed? Probably.  But she also didn’t want to lie.  Lying wasn’t who she was, and a part of her was frightened to try it with him, even if the truth had a chance of making him upset.

“It’s just that this morning I had thought that one of my brother’s killers had been put down.  Only to learn that wasn’t so, but your men were closing on one.  I had hoped that we would get news he had been taken out.  But as the day progressed…”  She looked down and away.  “Now it’s late and I’m going to bed knowing that all of my brother’s killers are still live.  It’s not right that he’s dead and they get to live another day. He was so good.  Such a happy, helpful young boy.”  Her gazed lifted to him. “I know it sounds ungrateful and I’m sorry.  I’m not ungrateful. Truly.  But I can’t help how I feel and don’t want to lie.”

He kissed her forehead.  He couldn’t help himself.

As wonderful as the affection felt, he didn’t like the way she tensed at the contact.

“That’s good.  You should never lie to me, Darling.  No matter what you have to say.  You should always tell me the truth.  Even if it’s bad.  It would be better to tell me than to lie.  Lying to me is unacceptable and would be painful for us both.  You understand?”

Maya’s heart beat rapidly in her chest.

“Answer me, Sweetheart.”

“Yes.”

Kai smiled at her whispered response.  “So soft and meek for me.  I didn’t mean to frighten you, Maya.  I simply want you to understand that I won’t tolerate anything between us.”

“I… understand.”

Every fiber in her being was telling her to run.  But Kai’s towering frame was blocking the door. Though in truth she probably wouldn’t have run anyway.  Her will to see those who killed her brother punished far outweighed any sense of self preservation.  She had given up her body and innocence before to shelter and provide for him.  He was the only family she had.  The only reason she had to kept on going. Without him her life was without purpose.  All she had left was her revenge.  And Kai had promised to give it to her.

“Good. I’m glad we understand each other.”  He hand traveled from her face down her neck to her shoulder. “Now.  As for your disappointment.  There’s no reason to be distraught. Hari has found one of them and they will be dead by morning.  I promise.”

“I want to see.”

Kai’s expression darkened.  “Don’t you trust me?”

“It’s not a matter of trust.  Of course I trust you.  It’s just…  These men killed my brother.  I can’t get that horrid memory out of my head.”  Her eyes squeezed shut, brows furrowing. “It’s always there.  Him laying in that dirty street.  Pained and scared and bleeding out, and then lifeless.” Her eyes opened, gazing fixing on him. “You said it would fade; but I don’t want it to.  I want to wipe it out with the image of them.  Dead and bleeding.  I want to see it.  To see them.  They need to suffer and die for what they did.  And I want to watch it happen.”

Kai paused.

Her words both thrilled and concerned him.  He was glad to see such a fire for justice in her.  It further proved how perfect she was for him. That she would understand and support his cause.  Yet at the same time, for his sweet, innocence darling to be so blood thirsty that she wanted to watch these men die…

“Are you sure?”

She pulled back from him.  “Of course I’m sure!”

“Calm down.  Don’t raise you voice at me.”

There was a heat within Kai’s low even voice that made Maya shuddered.  “Sorry.”

Rather than step to her, Kai beckoned her back with a single crooked finger. He waited impatiently as she slowly stepped back to him, gold eyes looking her over.

His hands were on her again as soon as she pulled up close.  “I asked because seeing a person intentionally murdered is different than seeing someone killed.”

“My--”

Kai pressed two fingers to her lips.  “I wasn’t done, Precious. Don’t interrupt me.”

He both felt and saw her lips pull in and press together, and had to lower his hand least he pressed his fingers into her mouth as well.

Later, he told himself.  Soon enough his fingers and cock would fill her mouth. Good luck interrupting me then, he thought, dick twitching in interest. And if she still dared try to do so, he would fuck her till she was such a mess that she was incapable of words.

“These men are disgusting, vile creatures, Maya. They don’t deserve a swift and painless death.  Are you sure you can handle that?”

She watched him a moment, considering.  Finally she shook her head.

Kai could see in her eyes that despite her answer, she wasn’t happy.

“But you still want to see something.”  He prodded.

Maya nodded.

“Words.” Kai commanded.

“Yes.”

He stepped around her imagining that yes was in response to a very different sort of prodding.  His hand traced around her shoulder, fingers curling under the embroidered strap of her dress.  So beautiful, he thought.  So soft, and warm, and welcoming.

“Do you trust me, Darling?” His chest pressed against her back, breath tickling her ear.  “Do you trust me to know what’s good for you?”

She couldn’t wholly say yes to that, but knew no wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear.  Yet she knew he would know if she were lying. She considered the situation of her brothers vengeance.  How Kai was helping her, and had sought to protect her from something she might not have been ready for.

If she focused on that aspect alone she could give the answer he wanted without falsehood.

“Yes.”

“Yes what, Dearest?”  His moved and spoke into her other ear “Let me hear you say it.”

“I trust you, Kai.”

Kai ran a hand over her silken hair.  “Such a good girl for me.”

Maya swallowed.  Maybe she should've sold her soul to Dabi.  But where Dabi had asked for eternity, whatever Kai wanted would only last until justice had been fully met.

Kai felt her unease and decided not to push.  He had one last meeting with Hari before he could fully unwind and rest within his quarters.  And now, he had a new order to give his Lieutenant as well. One that he hoped would make his Darling very happy.

Kai pressed a kiss to her head and pulled his gloves back on.  “Wash up and get ready for bed.  I’ll be back shortly.”

2.3

Hari entered his boss’ office prepared to give the days report.  But as soon as he closed the door, Kai spoke.

“This lackey of Shigaraki’s you found.  Is he on ice yet?”

“No, Sir.  But he will be by morning.  I guarantee it.”

Kai laced his fingers, focusing on his Lieutenant. “Good. And the search for the men that killed Maya’s brother?”

“As you know, we just started looking in earnest this morning.  But there’s a number of leads.  We will find and take them out soon enough.”

“Good.” Kai sat back, gesturing for Hari to sit.

Hari did so but remained quiet, patiently waiting. He knew his boss well enough to know there something was on else his mind.  It was safe to say that whatever it was, it was about the woman upstairs in Kai’s rooms.

Maya. Her looks alone were enough for Hari to understand the attraction. But Kai’s interest in her went far deeper than that. While Hari didn’t understand it, he didn’t question it.  It was enough that Kai wanted her and had told him to respect her as he would him.

Kai rubbed at his brow. “She wants to see him.”

His Boss sounded tired. Hari had noted the minute changes in him over the last few day, telling of Kai’s lack of rest. But it wasn’t his place to give his leader orders, even if those orders were simply to get some sleep and for Kai’s own good.

“What to see who, Sir?”

“The filth.”

“The one we’re taking out tomorrow?”

Kai nodded.

“Is that wise?”  Hari questioned, carefully.

“I talked her out of seeing him killed.”

Hari managed to silence his scoff.  He found the idea of her wanting to see the man killed naive. It had been years since he had witnessed his first hit; but he could still remember it clearly.  He could still smell the blood, and hear the cries that became muffled and slowly turned to nothing. He had committed countless hits far more gruesome than the first one he had seen, but it still stood out among all the rest.

“Bring his head.”  Kai ordered.

“Boss?”

“You heard me.”

Hari nodded not sure how seeing a mans severed head was much better.

“She’s to be my woman, Hari.  There is nothing I will deny her.  So long as it suits me.”

“Yes, Sir.”

2.4

Maya was already in bed by the time Kai returned.  She sat up, watching him take off his mask and gloves.

“You work hard.”

Kai turned, the tension in his shoulders melting at the mere sight of her.  Truly, how had he managed without her in his life?  It had only been seven days but he couldn’t imagine going back to a life without her.

If only he could get a proper nights sleep, everything would be perfect. Well, almost perfect.  Things wouldn’t be perfect until Maya understood the way of things and accepted it.  But he was taking that slowly, not wanting to frighten and force her.

He undid the final button of his vest, and loosened his tie. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t.”

Kai stepped over to the bed, eyes narrowed with concern. “Trouble getting to sleep?”

“Yeah.”

It was partially true.  She certainly wasn’t going to tell him that she had grown accustomed to the sound of him shuffling through papers while he worked in the lounge sofa near the bed.  That she apparently needed the sound and presence of him to fall asleep.

She told herself that it was because she was in a new house filled with scary men and foreign noises.  She was use to the sounds her home made. Use to the sound of her little brother snoring lightly in the pallet across the room, a single hanging sheet their sole means of privacy. Though filled with nightmares, her first night in this room, with Kai watching over her had been the first night she had actually slept since her brothers death.  Kai had become her comfort.  Her refuge.  She needed him. At least she needed him if she wished to sleep.

Kai smiled softly, chest swelling that his absence had caused her unrest.  He took the open book laid out beside her, and closed it.

“Well I’m here now, Darling.  You can rest easy.”  He brushed her hair back, caressing her cheek. “I’m having Hari bring a surprise for you tomorrow.  So I suggest you lay down and get some rest.”

Her hand clutched his forearm.

Kai’s fingers paused along her cheek, waiting to see if she would further or try to push away his affection. She did neither, hand simply holding him.  Though he wanted more, he decided that it was enough for now.

“Do you often work through the night?”

Kai’s fingers resumed their caressing. “When I need to.  The ills of booze and chaos it creates won’t be wiped away without hard work and effort.”

“Still. I can’t help but think that my being here has disturbed your time of peace and restoration.”

“You’re presence has brought me more peace and rest than I ever knew possible.”  Kai asserted, so enthralled by the soft, warm feel of her that he missed her glance to the white velvet sofa.

She gently pulled his hand away. “Yet these sleepless nights are taking a toll. I can see it.”

“I’m fine.”  Kai frowned, fingers itching to touch her.

Maya sighed and nudged him back.  He was just like her brother.  Clearly overtired yet claiming he could stay up to play, or in this case work.  She wasn’t having it.

Kai didn’t budge.  Then he saw her legs swing over the bed and stepped back.  Not so much to give her space, but to get a better view.  His eyes roamed over her, taking in the tender, luminescent skin of her thighs that the bunched up nightgown afforded.

“Seriously, Kai.  How much longer can you go on like this?”  She stood up and gestured to the lounge. “Is it because the sofa’s uncomfortable?  I told you I could sleep in it.”

Kai closed the small distance between them, chest practically touching hers. “No, you can’t.  What kind of man would I be if I let my lady take the couch?”

Her skin prickled at him calling her his.  But she ignored the sense of warning and told herself it was because of the cool air hitting her skin from having gotten out of a warm bed.  She told herself that she was doing this so there would be justice for her brother.  That she had done and suffered worse for him than letting someone like Kai call her theirs.

Kai’s eyes lowered. Standing this close, the cut of her nightgowns neck allowed him to see a tantalize amount of skin.  The pure white fabric thin enough that he was left wondering if he could actually see the color of her pebbled nipples, or if it was imagined.

Maya sighed.  She knew she was going to regret this, but it wasn’t right.  Taking Kai’s bed.  Watching him slowly succumb to exhaustion.  She couldn’t do it.  Not while he was already doing so much for her and her cause.  Her pride wouldn’t have it.  More than that, her instincts as a caretaker wouldn’t allow it.

“Come on. Sleep in your own bed.”

Kai’s gold eyes darkened.  “I don’t like repeating myself, Sweetheart.”

“I mean join me.”  She saw his stern gaze turn ravenous, and clarified. “To sleep.” She crossed her arms suddenly feeling terribly exposed. “You can’t run a gang, let alone help me get justice if you keep on staying up working through the night.”

Kai smiled, pleased. It might not have been exactly what he wanted; but it was a sizable step toward it.  And she had been the one to suggest it.

She truly was perfect.  So thoughtful and caring.  She had noticed how little sleep he had been getting and the toll it was having. And like a good mate, had sought to give him what he needed.

Hands on her hips Kai stepped her backwards, a self satisfied smirk tugging at his lips.

The back of Maya’s legs hit the bed.  She jumped, hands clutching at the sleeves of his shirt. What had she done?  She hadn’t meant…

“Get into bed, Beautiful.”

At his hands gentle urging, she sat down with a plop.

Kai’s smile grew.  His darling was so sweet and obedient.  He wondered if he could take her right now.  But he wouldn’t push.  Maybe tomorrow night, after he had presented her with her gift.

Yes, he thought.  She would be so pleased and grateful that she wouldn’t deny him anything then.  With his gift he will have proven that he was just as perfect for her as she was for him.  That he was a man of his word, and would provide and protect her from the filth of this world.

He gave the apple of her cheek a chaste kiss.  With one last smile, he turned away, pulling off vest and tie.

“I’ll shower and get cleaned up, then join you in bed.  We can sleep and dream of tomorrow.”

[aethelflaedladyofmercia]

Deadly

My second story for @drawlight‘s advent challenge.

My current plan is to do as many stories as possible, each essentially a different AU. My first story was a Roman-era love confession. This one is...idk...a wander through history that got a little jumpy? Anyway, these are all first- or second-draft stories, so feel free to make any suggestions. I’ll probably edit, expand, and post the collection on AO3 in January.

02 - Snow (1683 words)

The first time Aziraphale saw snow, it was one hundred and thirty-four years after the humans left Eden. He had been sent to guard a small group of explorers traveling to the far north.

Heaven had warned him about the cold, but he hadn’t really understood the way it would sink below the flesh, settle into the bones. How could he? Angels didn’t feel such things.

Two of the mortals froze to death; another lost an arm to that creeping black death of tissue.

The second time Aziraphale saw snow, it was one thousand, three hundred and eighteen years after the humans left Eden, and shortly after the reign of Gilgamesh of Uruk. Trade with the tribes of the northern steppes was well-established. He simply had to ensure three merchants and their cargo didn’t fall afoul of any bandits.

There weren’t any bandits. There was, however, an avalanche. Aziraphale would not have believed the way so much snow could move so fast.

On and on, every time he traveled north.

Three thousand, seven hundred and six years after the humans left Eden, he sat with Crawley in the newly constructed city of Antioch, sharing a bowl of figs and fava beans. The demon looked at him incredulously.

“How can you hate snow? You’re an angel, I thought you were supposed to love, well, everything.”

“I love all of the Almighty’s creatures and plants, and I acknowledge the beauty in every aspect of Her Creation,” Aziraphale said, with enough fervent piousness that Crawley would hopefully forget what he had said about hornets just three days before. “Snow, however, is surely an invention of your side.”

“Nope,” Crawley said, popping the p and giving an infuriating grin. “I am more than happy to take credit for whatever your lot want to blame on me, but I know for a fact snow was your side, not ours.”

“You can’t possibly know that.”

“Sure I can.” Crawley tossed another fig in his mouth and began counting on his fingers. “First, no one on my side has that kind of power. We didn’t do volcanoes. We didn’t do monsoons. We certainly didn’t do snow. Second, I went north right after Eden. Snow was already there. None of us had a chance to put it in. Third… nah, never mind.”

“What? You can’t just leave it at that.”

Crawley scratched at his hair, red curls spilling from the central part, and slumped further in his seat. Finally, he grumbled, “Well, it’s Her style, isn’t it? Little ice crystals, each a unique shape with infinite variety, too small, too…ephemeral for any human to appreciate. The mounds sort of softening the edges of the world, the quiet that falls over everything. The way sunlight glints off icicles. It’s, you know. Pretty.”

“Crawley,” Aziraphale felt a teasing smile grow across his face. “That was very nearly poetic!”

“Shut up.” Crawley folded his arms and glared at an unfortunate human that happened to be standing nearby. “But my lot certainly wouldn’t create something pretty. Enticing and deadly, maybe, but not pretty. Don’t have the imagination for it.”

“Well. It’s certainly deadly enough.”

“So’s the Nile flood. So’s fire. So are lions and crocodiles. And hornets,” he added in a tone that clearly said he had forgotten nothing of their previous conversation.

Aziraphale worked on a handful of fava beans for a few minutes before conceding, “Fine, perhaps snow is one of the Almighty’s gifts to the world, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Actually, according to what you just said, you do.” And that smug grin, as Crawley scored another point.

Four thousand, two hundred and fifty-four years after Eden, the Thames River froze.

It had been a difficult year. The emperor in Rome had declared that all people in the empire must make public sacrifices to the Roman gods. The still-forming communities of churches had been devastated – some followers had publicly refused the sacrifice, and then been killed or imprisoned; some had chosen to make the sacrifices and were shunned by the other faithful.

Already it seemed the people would never be reconciled, the fragile alliances of believers shattered forever.

And then one dawn, Aziraphale looked out the window to find the streets of Londinium filled with deadly white, and ever more falling from the sky.

In a panic, he dressed in his warmest furs of white and pale grey and pushed out into the almost waist-high snow. 300 souls he had been instructed to care for, shepherd in their new beliefs, mostly from the poorest sections of the city. Tenement buildings; no kitchens, some of them barely had a hearth worth speaking of. Foolish hubris of the Romans, trying to build a tropical city on this frozen island.

Aziraphale had crossed the Walbrook and was approaching the tight cluster of insulae behind the Forum when he saw someone approaching – tall, swaggering, dressed in layers of impossibly black fur. Even with his head covered, there was no question.

“Craw-Crowley,” Aziraphale greeted as evenly as he could. “I thought you were up north at the Wall.”

“Well, there wasn’t much going on there, thought I’d take a wander.” He pulled down a few layers of wrapping to flash a grin. “Glad to see you finally enjoying the snow.”

“I’m not – how can you even say that? These are dangerous conditions. People could – people probably will die, Crowley.”

“And are you worried about all of them, or just the few hundred your side have earmarked?”

“How do you know, I mean,” Aziraphale clenched his teeth, not sure what Crowley knew, not sure what was safe to reveal. “I am worried about all thirty thousand inhabitants, of course.” It wasn’t a lie, either. He would have to visit the ones he’d been instructed to look over first, but he would make sure everyone was safe. He could miracle each home warmer, produce thousands of loaves of fresh bread…

Couldn’t he?

Already the angel trembled at the thought of how it would sap his strength, leave him vulnerable to the cold. And how much time it would take to visit every one of those homes…

“Angel,” Crowley stepped closer, not grinning now. “It’s too many people. You can’t do it.”

He dropped his eyes to glare at the mounding snow, slowly burying him, trapping him in place. “I can try.”

“And if they’re meant to die? If this is the… Ineffable Plan?”

Aziraphale bit his lip, a thousand arguments coming back to him. This was an awful time for Crowley to try and score a point against him.

“I don’t know,” he started slowly. “But…there must be something I can do.”

“No, there isn’t.” But before the weight of the words could crush him, Crowley’s hand rested on his shoulder, pressure hardly noticeable through the layers of furs.

Aziraphale lifted his eyes and saw where the demon was pointing.

A group of men and women – priests, deaconesses, elders of the church – were pushing their way down the street through the thick snow, pulling a sled behind them. They stopped to knock at a door. The next moment, a woman opened it. Aziraphale recognized her; her husband had performed the sacrifices for the emperor, and the whole family had been exiled from the church.

Now a deaconess rushed forward to embrace the woman, talking with her gently. A few moments later, loaves of bread had been produced, and piles of furs for the children, who were settled into the sled. The woman and her husband emerged, pointing at the home next to theirs.

The church elders knocked, and another couple answered – these were pagans, worshippers of Mithras. It didn’t matter; they were fed, their children placed in the sled, and soon the whole group was walking together towards the baths, where clouds of steam showed the furnaces and hypocaust were already running.

Now that he knew what to look for, Aziraphale could see more groups out in the streets – some from the church, some not, all checking on their neighbors, feeding those without food, bringing those without heat to a place of safety. Caring for each other.

There wasn’t anything he could do. The humans were already doing it.

“You know,” Crowley said, “you once told me that the poorest people have the most opportunities to choose good.* I still think that’s bullshit, but today, at least, I’ll concede the point.”

“And…you aren’t here to interfere?”

“Nah. I already did enough Tempting for today.” He waved his arm. “First, I convinced quite a few city guards to huddle down someplace warm and spend the day drinking and gambling. So they won’t be out harassing your people. Then, I saw to it that a rather large number of libelli wound up in the home of some of your elders. Now, that’s a real moral quandary. Do they hand out forged documents saying their people performed sacrifices for the emperor? Or do they let them martyr themselves to prove their piety? Real crisis of faith stuff right there. Can’t wait to see how it turns out.”

Aziraphale nodded. “I suppose…it’s good that they have the choice.”

He turned back to Crowley, seeing how the tiny flakes of snow – individually so harmless – settled on the furs, on his hair, his eyelashes. It was beautiful, in a way.

Deadly. Pretty. Ineffable.

“Now that’s settled…can I tempt you to a drink?” Crawley gestured to the wineskin at his belt. “Spiced cider. Snow is nice and all, but I much prefer to watch it from inside, with a hot drink and a fire.”

“I…think I’d like that.”

It would be another one thousand, seven hundred and sixty-nine years until Aziraphale could truly enjoy watching the snow fall.

There wouldn’t be a fire – no open flames in the book shop – but there would be mugs of cocoa, a warm tartan blanket, and his demon sitting beside him on the sofa as they watched tiny white flakes drift down from the sky to cover a world that hadn’t been destroyed.

*Yes, in the book this conversation happened later. Call it an AU.

[clevercatchphrase]

2019 year in review

So… The 2010’s are almost over. Huh. What a decade it’s been. Hard to comprehend how much has changed in 10 years. I can barely believe that I was in high school at the beginning of this decade, and now I’m a college graduate with 2 degrees who’s been working at the same job for the last 3 years. But trying to summarize the past 10 years in a single post is a good way to give myself an existential crisis, so let’s not do that! Instead, let’s just focus on 2019 because there has been more than enough shit that’s happened to me in this year to talk about.

PART 1 OF 2: 2019 AND 2020 GOALS AND RESOLUTIONS

Huh, looking back through my archives, I apparently didn’t make a tumblr post about my goals this year. I definitely had some, though. Lemme list ‘em off real quick, and then we’ll go through them point by point.

1)      Pay off all my student loans 2)      Finish some song comics 3)      Make art for my Redbubble account 4)      Finish the first rough draft/script of a game I wanted to make 5)      Practice ASL 6)      Sew some stuffed animals 7)      Finish some fan fictions 8)      Work on Ghost Switch 9)      AMVs 10)   Do some original writing 11)   Make illustrations for my fan fictions

Okay, first off, the student loans. I was actually SO CLOSE to successfully completing this one bUT THEN MY CAR HAD TO BE A WHINEY PISS BABY AND HAVE ITS ALTERNATOR DIE ON ME WHILE I WAS ON THE HIGHWAY AND THEN A BLOW OUT THREE WEEKS LATER.

GOD, if I had to summarize this year in two words, for me it would be “Car troubles”. I swear I spent more on auto repair in the first third of this year than I ever have just freakin’ OWNING a car. All four of my tires had to be replaced, my alternator failed and my car literally just SHUT OFF while I was driving, and I was barely able to coast into a gas station. Both my front breaks and rear breaks were worn down the metal and I only learned this when my car was barely able to stop after I had to slam the petal down full force!  I went in for an oil change, and they found some problems and then I didn’t get my car back for three days! I don’t even like owning a car! I hate driving! I hate my country’s refusal to provide universal, free public transportation! I NEVER ASKED FOR THIS!

Oh-kay… number 2. Finish some song comics. I didn’t finish any. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t work on them. I have made tiny progress, but that’s certainly better than no progress. One of these song comics I hope to be realizes is going to be a collab with one of my friends. It’ll be a long-time coming as it’s pretty low priority for the both of us, but if anyone else out there was disappointed with KH3’s ending, we’re gonna have ya’ covered… With SONG!

3. Make some redbubble art. I actually did this one! Not in the way I expected, but I added (technically) 3 new designs to my redbubble in the middle of the year. If you like butterflies and dragons, I got some product for you~!

Number 4, finish a script for a game I want to make. I… thought about this. I thought about this a lot, but I never put pen to paper, so… oops. It almost happened! I debated making this my main writing project for NaNoWriMo this year, but ended up having more inspiration for another story. Maybe next year? (god, I hope not. I don’t want to wait a full year just to write something)

Number 5, practice ASL. I just straight up didn’t do this and I only have myself to blame. Still keepin’ up that Danish Duolingo streak, though. 4 years going strong and not a day missed yet.

Number 6, sew some stuffed animals. Again, another one I just straight up didn’t do, but I have an excuse of trying to save money while my car crashed and burned in every other sense except literal this year. Hopefully 2020 will be different. I’ll definitely be able to pay off this last loan within the first half of 2020, and then I can start saving for whatever I want to buy.

Finish some fan fictions was number 7, and I did this! Well, I only finished, 1, but it was a story I’ve been working on for over 3 years, and it came out to over 200 THOUSAND words long, which is the longest thing I’ve ever written, and I’m quite proud of myself. Now that the big story is out of the way, and I’ve gotten into a good rhythm of working on Ghost Switch, maybe I can squeeze in some short writing sessions more frequently. (either that, or just wait for my car to break down again and then go on a writing spree in a pepboys. The lord and the fan fic discord know that’s solely why I finished my other fic this year)

Speaking of Ghost Switch, working on it was a goal this year too, and I did that! I kept it up all year and took a vacation in November and it was wonderful. While the major plot points have been in place since before I started drawing, I still need to script each arc beyond Snowdin, but hey, by the time we get there, it’ll be 2022 so I got time. (Note, don’t do this, kids. Script your stories and comics thoroughly before publishing. The road I’m on is paved with misery and pain and it will only end in tears unless I change lanes soon)

Number 9, amvs. Do people make AMVs anymore? Idk… the last one I made was... Jesus, 5 years ago? (it was a gravity falls/fall out boy crossover, if you were curious) I’ve been wanting to do 2 more for just as long, but in order for me to do that, I’d have to spend time re-watching the shows to find the footage, and then actually edit them together, and I just don’t…. feel like it. Maybe someday, but not any day soon.

10; do some original writing. I did this! For nanowrimo! I wrote the first draft of some original fiction I’ve been planning for a year or two now and it completely sucks! But it’s on paper now and I’m happy. Will I revise and edit it? Sure, but not for a while. I want to let it sit and forget about it and look at it with new eyes months from now so I can be sure I can make it better when time comes to rewrite.

11, make illustrations for my fan fics. Now that You Monster is done, I want to go back and add pictures to it. I didn’t do any this year, but I did keep a list of scenes I wanted to draw, so I have plenty of ideas to do as warm up sketches next year~ I kinda want to stream them~

So, that was 11 goals, and I successfully fulfilled 4 of them! That’s! Not a very good ratio… QmQ So, goals for 2020. Some I’m gonna keep from this year, some I’m gonna drop and some I’m gonna add. In short I would like to,

1)      Finish paying off that last student loan 2)      Put more stuff on my redbubble 3)      Illustrate my own fan fics 4)      Sew at least one stuffed animal 5)      Make an enamel pin 6)      Read one new book a month 7)      Write one page a day/Complete at least one new fan fic 8)      Learn Python or C# for the game I want to make 9)      Finish fully scripting Ghost Switch 10)   Boost my patreon

Most of these I think are pretty self-explanitory, but I’ll go into detail just a bit because I’m on a roll and typing my thoughts helps me feel less alone in the middle of the night when you’re super tired and you know you should probably go to sleep, but the toddler in you is throwing a tantrum and doesn’t wanna go to sleep just yet, but you can’t fight the progression of time either way.

Number 1- I should be able to reach this goal by the end of March. End of June at the absolute latest. Once that goal is met, my secret new year’s resolution will be unlocked as well!

Number 2- I want to put more art of my OCs on redbubble. These OCs are tied to the game I want to make. There’s already some art of them up there, but I want at least one piece for each character.

Number 3- Mostly for You Monster. Embrace the cardinal rule of fan fic and apply it to fan art. If you want to read about see art about certain ideas, scenarios, or what-ifs, you gotta make it yourself.

Number 4- I have 3 potential ideas to sew. One is definitely leagues easier than the other two and will probably be chosen if/when I have the time and materials.

Number 5- This year I got really, REALLY into the idea of making enamel pins. Unfortunately it’s a pretty big investment (like, $350 to make 100 pins you  might not even sell). If this happens, it’ll probably be towards the end of the year, and if I get enough interest. I’m currently torn between making an original enamel pin and one based off Undertale. We’ll just have to see where this goes.

Number 6- Back in 2018 when I paid off one of my many student loans, I rewarded myself by spending over 200 dollars in used books. All these books had a theme; they were focused on dragons because I have a problem. I have not yet read a single one of these books I have bought, and I would like to fix that. I have, like, 20 unread dragon books, and even if I only read 12 out of 20, I would consider that an amazing accomplishment and money well spent.

Number 7- I currently have about 8 different WIPs I could work on. (well, I don’t know if I can even call them wips. More like, a general idea and a title written down.) I want to build good writing habits, and if I can write just 200 words a day, hell, even 200 words a week and just one of my 8 stories done, I would consider this goal met.

Number 8- I’m torn between making my game in unity or ren’py. I know jack shit about both. Ren’py is more user friendly, but unity will allow me more customization. (Lol, can you guess what kind of game I want to make yet?)

Number  9- I really just want the full story to be done and written incase anything goes horribly terribly wrong in my life and I find myself unable to continue making ghost switch in comic form. Then at least I can finish the story by other means, you know?

Number 10- It always surprises me every month when I get that patreon email saying I got paid. Sure, I don’t even make double digits on it, but it still awes me enough to know that people out there like my work enough to throw me a tip. I can’t thank my patrons enough for supporting me and I hope to one day be in such a good place I can update my comic/song comics/writing frequently enough without need for goals or milestones. But until that magical day arrives, money is always a great incentive for anything, I suppose. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

 ALRIGHT. PART 2 OF 2: SHIT THAT HAPPENED TO ME IN 2019

Cheesus crust what a year. This year started off great! Back in late January Kingdom Hearts 3 FINALLY released, and let me tell you a little story. Back in the summer of 2006 I was a 13 year old middle schooler with no way of making money other than by doing house hold chores at a rate of 25 cents a task. A few weeks ago, I had a sleep over at a friend’s house and they let me play this weird game called “Kingdom Hearts” and god, I was instantly hooked on it. That summer, I did over 800 chores, enough to earn myself 200$ and buy myself a playstation 2 (just in time for the ps3 to come out, gg me) The only games I had for the ps2 were KH1, 2, Re:CoM and Okami, and I beat them all… except Okami. Miffed that the PS3 wouldn’t allow for backwards compatibility, little 13-year-old me made a promise. I looked myself in the mirror and said “I will not buy the next playstation console until KH3 comes out, AND BOY that was probably a good choice for me to make with my level of gaming. I’m even less of a casual gamer than the average casual gamer, but I have been waiting 13 years for this piece of closure, and I even told my friends and family that “the day Kingdom Hearts 3 comes out is the day I will buy a playstation 4”. My dad apparently thought this was the funniest shit, because he literally took the day off from work that Friday to drive me on base to get the game and console (he thought it would be less crowded than a regular walmart, I suppose). I paid $400 on a ps4 pro while he bought me the game. Again, I have an impecible sense of timing seeing as the PS5 is now right on the horrizion, but just like before, I’m not buying a new console until the next KH game is released. See you in 2045, sony~. While I was at the gamestop on base, I also picked up Okami HD and The Last Guardian. For all of February and even early March, I took my time playing through KH3. And…! It was the best disappointment I’ve ever played. After a month away from gaming, I started The Last Guardian and finished it in a couple weeks. I love trico and would die for him, but trying to get 100% completion on that game is udder insanity. Okami, HD, however… again after a month break after finishing TLG, I started replaying Okami. I think I had only managed to get about halfway through the game before I just… stopped playing it on my ps2 version. I am currently SO CLOSE to getting a 100% on the ps4 version. In fact, I’ve beaten the game. I only (techinically) need 2 more trophies to be done; 1st, escape the water dragon without being eaten, 2nd, I need to beat that dumb stupid race with Kai, in order to get the last bead on my rosary, as well as the top dog trophy. I hate her so much. I hate this race so much. It’s awful and bad.

Flash forward to December! Earlier this month I was at Barnes and Noble, buying myself a planner for 2020. I exit the store and notice that there’s a gamestop across the street. For shits and giggles I go inside to look at their game selection, and I find KH 1.5 and 2.5. Now, my PS2 died a few years back (it just won’t read my discs anymore, I don’t know why) and I haven’t been able to replay any of my other kingdom hearts games since. If you had seen me the day I finished kingdom hearts 3, after the ending credits rolled, you would have heard me say “Man…. I wish I could play kingdom hearts 2 again”. AND NOW I CAN, ALONG WITH BBS which I had never even played yet, but knew the story of. I’ve restarted playing kh1, and I was so happy to hear that familiar music when I booted the game up for the first time. While at the game stop, I also picked up Rime and Tearaway, two games that had looked interesting to me. At the time of writing, I’ve finished Rime and am 25% done with tearaway. Rime was…. An interesting experience. I learned about it through Jacksepticeye’s channel a couple years back and thought the art style was enticing. For a super casual gamer like me, I found the puzzles just the right level of challenging and exploring was a blast! The music gave me VERY strong Princes Mononoke vibes, but the overall story left something to be desired. Overall I had fun, and enjoyed completing this game to 100%. Now for tearaway. Can I just say this game is super fucking adorable? I know the original was on the ps vita and the gameplay there was arguably more diverse and imaginative, but this game is just so fucking cute I don’t care?? ALSO, this game’s sound track is ABSOLUTELY incredible and I’ve only heard the first fourth of it! Listen to The Orchards, Pig Riding, and Gibbet Hill Pilgrimage for a taste of their wonderful beats and fantastic use of string and woodwinds! God, I’m so excited to get some more games in 2020. I’m proud to say I currently own more ps4 games than I ever did with my ps2 (and now the majority AREN’T Kingdom Hearts titles!), and I’m still hoping to play Journey, The Witness, and Abzu before everything becomes ps5.

What else happened to me this year. Oh, I went to a doctor for, like, the first time in seven years. I also had my blood drawn for the first time ever, and the nurse said the most disturbing thing to me while she did it. Now, whenever I get shots, I refuse to look. I did that here. So she thought it would be appropriate to say to me “Can you feel your blood leaving your body?” Lady… You can clearly see I am uncomfortable with what is happening here. Why, of all the things you could say, did you choose to say that. Unfortunately, while my doctor is nice, she keeps wanting to run tests on me, that I just cannot afford with my current salary, and my monthly insurance is about to go up to 200$ a month, so I’ve cancelled my next appointment with them, and don’t plan to go back until it’s absolutely necessary. Capitalism is fun, guys. Preventative healthcare is for wusses.

I started going to a chiropractor on a monthly basis. Story time- I don’t know when it started, but sometime late last November I began to notice that I had a headache that just... wasn’t... going away? And each day it was starting to get a little worse. It made it hard for me to find a comfortable position to sleep, it made it hard for me to be in bright areas or move fast. So I said to myself “Okay, if this headache persist through the month of december, then something is proooobably wrong and I should go see someone about it. And hoo-boy were thing wrong with me. By the time this January rolled around, I couldn’t even stay on my feet for more than a few hours without it physically hurting to just BREATHE. So I started going to this chain called The Joint (A+ name, I know). THey aksed me “How are you doing?” I said “I’m in pain” and they said “We can help fix that!”. I’ve only been to a chiropractor once before in my life a few years back after my freshmen year of college because I began to notice my hips weren’t able to support me? LIke, I would lie on my back, and I couldn’t push my hips up when my feet were flat on the floor. I also couldn’t climb anything steep, because my legs just couldn’t push me up if my knee had to bend more than 90 degrees when I lifted my leg up. (Turned out both my hips were apparently out of place). This time only one of my hips were out of place (which they fixed. they said one of my legs was an inch “longer” than the other because I had been leaning all my weight on one leg when I stand). But two of my ribs were apparently “Stuck” which was why it was hurting for me to just breathe, and one of my shoulders was missaligned too, causing one of my trap muscles to constantly be streched, which was pulling on my skull, and causing the headache. Anyway, after they popped all my bones back into place, I still felt terrible, but by god, that night was the first time in weeks I was able to sleep without a migrane. A chiropractor can’t magically heal your arthritis, or fibro, but I definately think they have merit to keeping your posture good and helping your body with things like circulation. 10 outa 10, would recomend. It’s all the fun of getting your neck snapped without the dying!

Earlier this month I got together with two of my friends and we baked Christmas cookies. It was a lot of fun, as well as a great learning experience. A member of my family has a gluten allergy, so we used rice flour for most of the cookies. We learned this is a bad idea! The cookies will just fall apart! A few member’s in one of the friend’s family have nut allergies. Other friend and I knew this and were careful to avoid cookie recipes with nuts, bUT THEN COMPLETELY FORGOT THAT ALMOND MILK AND ALMOND EXTRACT COUNT AS NUT. IN FACT, ALMOND EXTRACT IS PURE CONCENTRATED NUT JUICE AND WE FELT SO BAD FOR ALMOST ACCIDENTALLY POISONING THE FAMILY.

Earlier this year me and these same friends took a field trip to Hobby Lobby and just dicked around the store for a couple of hours. It was super fun, 11 outa 10, would recommend, a great date idea for your artsy S.O.

Back in May I went to a wedding for the first time in my life. (well, not true, but the first one I could remember) we left at 5am, drove 5 hours to get there, hung out at a zoo and spent the night in a la quinta before the wedding day. I slept on the bathroom floor because my mom was snoring too loud in the main room and keeping me awake, and the rest of the day was just spent me trying to keep myself together because I was pissed off and tired.

Other than all of that, nothing really major happened to me this year. I guess one more thing I’ve tried to do this year is started the process of breaking certain internet addictions so I can use my free time for more personal projects. Seriously, I found myself watching way too much youtube and following blogs that didn’t even make me happy. I had a personal intervention with myself where I sat down and asked myself, “why do you watch these videos and youtubers? Why do you follow these blogs? Do you really enjoy their content? Do you really care? If you stopped watching/following them, would you even notice?” After critically thinking it over, I’ve found myself unfollowing several channels and blogs and suddenly I feel so much happier. I thought I would miss it, but I realized I didn’t really care if I saw their content or not. I wasn’t missing much. And now I feel like I have more time to draw, read and write. If you think you spend too much time consuming and not enough time creating, I suggest you try and de-clutter your internet habits as well. It’s done wonders to un-fuck my headspace.

And… well, that about sums up my year. How are your holidays going? Anything fun, exciting, dramatic happen to you this year? I hope your new year is warm and safe! Good night, everybody!

[monicawoe]

12, 16, 21, 25

for the fanfic end of the year asks meme (thanks @slytherkins !)

12. favorite character to write about this year: It’s a tie between Eddie Brock/Venom and Sam Winchester. Venom fics have been incredibly fun to write and I’ve really been enjoying writing more humorous fics which is something I used to struggle with. But with Supernatural in its last season I also had a serious resurgence of need to write all the Sam fics!

21. most memorable comment/review:  “M A X I M U M T O A S T BABYBOI NO.”…which totally makes sense in context. Venom had some difficulties operating the toaster.

25. a fic you read this year you would recommend everyone read: Definitely The Holy Grail Bird by @denugis  Not just because she wrote this as a gift fic to me, but because it’s easily one of my favorite fics of all times. This is such an insightful look into Sam and addresses the Winchester’s Chuck Problem so cleverly, but more than that it brought me to tears in the best kind of way, the kind of tears that happen when somebody just gets it so spot on and so beautifully that your heart leaps and aches all at the same time.  If you are a Sam Winchester fan, do yourself a favor and read this immediately if you haven’t yet, and if you’ve already read it, then go read it again

16 fic(s) you completed this year (*saving this one for last since it’s a long response!) I completed 17 fics this year, of which 16 were posted–mainly Supernatural, Venom and MCU. This was such an awesome year for collaborations, big-bangs and fic exchanges. I had the opportunity to work with some truly stellar artists who are all total sweethearts, so thanks again to @sketchydean, @sdeeys, @vebirascanvasand of course @quickreaver for bringing my fics to life so beautifully. Thanks also to everybody whose prompts I filled for various events, and big thanks to my amazing betas for saving me from my own bad writing habits

Links, fic summaries, and gorgeous art banners below the cut!

Supernatural:

Lakeside Fishing - After defeating Famine, after days of suffering through demon blood withdrawal in the panic room, Sam needs time to clear his head. Early in the morning, he heads to a small lake seeking solitude, but instead finds an unexpected ally. (Sam/Patrick(S5ep7), 4k words)

His Soul to Keep - art by @sketchydean - written for the SPN Eldritch Bang horror event - Dean’s deal is coming due soon. When he finds out from Ruby that Hell will turn him into a demon, he refuses to accept it, even though he can already feel pieces of his soul starting to crumble away. Sam is his only anchor to the world, and Dean finds it harder and harder to leave his side.   After Broward County, after watching Dean die a thousand deaths, Sam decides he’s not going to let Dean go to Hell. He’ll do whatever it takes, even if that means allying himself with Ruby and using the darkness inside of him. Sam casts a soul-binding spell on Dean; they might not be able to break the deal, but they can change who Dean’s soul belongs to. (13k, Sam/Dean, hard-gen, AU of season 3))

Thirteen Taps of The Ivory Beak - Death is a transient thing. The bird knows this, because she herself is both alive and not. Her creator made her this way, not by choice but because of who he is. (a companion piece to de_nugis’ The Holy Grail Bird, 900 words)

Whosoever Holds - Just when Sam Winchester needs it most, Mjölnir returns to him. But is he really worthy? (2k, gen Sam Winchester, Steve Rogers; MCU/SPN crossover)

The Devil You Knew - Brady, not Azazel, had killed Jessica, all those years ago. And now he was sitting across from Sam, bound. Trapped. (1k; an alternate version of Sam’s confrontation with Brady in 5x20)

Wednesday - It’s Wednesday. It’s always Wednesday, he thinks, as he stands up and leaves the motel room, not sparing a glance at the other bed. (2k, Mystery Spot boyKing!Sam AU)

Last Drop - art by @quickreaver -written for the Twisted Tropes event - Sam/Brady AU set while Sam’s at Stanford:  Sam is slowly adjusting to his new life at Stanford University. He’s left his life of hunting behind, and traded it for endless studying and tests, but he’s plagued by dreams of Dean and Dad in danger, dreams of blood and violence. Then he meets Tyson Brady, who’s always there with a smile and a cup of coffee to get Sam through all-nighters. Sam’s dreams start to fade, but just as he’s getting used to a nice normal life, he starts to develop abilities—powers he can’t control. Brady thinks they’re great, but Sam knows power never comes without a cost. (14k, Sam/Brady)

Breathing, Talking, Dead Man Walking   -  John Doe, male, approximately thirty-seven years old. Subject was found by EMTs in close proximity to the site of a sizable explosion in Lebanon, Kansas. (2k, gen, Sam & Dean)

Venom:

Costume Party - Eddie and Venom are invited to a costume party at the museum. While there, they find a mad scientist in the dinosaur wing who is up to no good. (Symbrock, 5k words)

Reckoning Tartare with a Side of Tater Tots - Eddie Brock is writing a story about Will Graham, a man accused of horrific serial murders. But Eddie’s got a feeling Will is innocent, and somebody else is to blame. When Hannibal Lecter invites Eddie to dinner, Venom is surprised by the menu. (2k words; Venom | Hannibal crossover)

The End Times Are Here (But So Are We) - Eddie Brock crashes his motorcycle near Anathema Device’s Jasmine Cottage. She was expecting him, of course. Agnes Nutter’s prophecy had foretold his coming, just in time for the End of Days. (2k words; Venom | Good Omens crossover)

Asunder - (bigbang featuring art by @sdeeys and @vebirascanvas !) Eddie and Venom have grown accustomed to their new life together. They patrol every night, keeping San Francisco just a little safer, and keeping Venom fed. But one night, they’re captured, and separated. Eddie wakes up to find himself imprisoned in a glass cell and, for the first time in six months, completely alone.  (Symbrock, PG-13, 12k words; written for the @symbrockbigbang)

Midnight Snack - Eight hours is way too long to wait until breakfast. Venom makes snacks while Eddie is sleeping. Unfortunately the toaster gives them some issues. (3k words)

They Say It’s Your Birthday - Venom asks Dan to help throw a surprise birthday party for Eddie. (3k words | written for the chocolate box gift exchange)

Marvel/Captain America

Interstitial Light - After Thanos wiped half of life off the planet, the remaining Avengers find a way to reach out to those they lost, using a combination of Stark-Tech, magic and their own memories. Steve makes contact with Bucky, but they spent too many decades apart when Steve was on ice. But there was somebody else who knew Bucky during that time—who trained with him, who knew both the Winter Soldier and James Barnes: Natasha. | 6k, Natasha, Bucky

Stumble and Fall Into You   -   Three months ago, Steve’s world shattered. SHIELD had been infiltrated by Hydra, people he trusted turned out to be enemies, and Bucky, who he thought he’d lost in 1944, had been alive this whole time. Steve tries to get back to some kind of normalcy, but Bucky is always on his mind, and lately he’s been seeing him everywhere. | 5k, Steve/Bucky

—

The 17th fic I completed this year is my Sam Winchester Big Bang fic, which will be posting early next year. I’ve gotten paired with yet another wonderful artist (I think it’s still supposed to be a secret, but it won’t be for long) and am very excited about this collaboration too!

Might as well make this my end of year stats post as well while I’m at it.

Words so far: 247,305 as of end of November, I’ll probably come in close to 280k by end of year. About a third of these words were posted as fics, the rest were prior drafts and a handful of short stories.

Thematically this was a very cathartic and iddy year for me in fic. Venom fandom gave me the opportunity to tackle things in a totally different way which has been incredibly freeing and fun to write, and returning to Supernatural fic had me writing out ideas I’d had on the backburner for years, like with Wednesday and my aforementioned SWBB. Nearly every Sam Winchester fic I write is about autonomy (loss of or reclaiming of) in one way or another but I’d say the two iddiest ones by far from this year were His Soul to Keep and Last Drop. 

I’ve got four WIPs heading into 2020, so here’s to another year of writing!

[daywillcomeagain]

I don’t understand the idea of finarfin choose peace? There is no peace to be had with Morgoth, he made that clear. Either he was gonna die or you were gonna be enslaved by him, if more people had followed finarfin’s lead it would have meant leaving men, dwarves, other elves to rot: I don’t think that’s peace I think that’s the same weak justification the Valar use to justify their gross inaction when it comes to beleriand and middle earth.

Oh man I have SO MANY FEELINGS. okay. (clears throat) 

(sorry for taking this as an ARGUMENTATIVE ESSAY PROMPT i just. the feelings.)

So…. Finarfin has no way of knowing this. As far as he knew, that might be true, but it might also be true that all the elves and dwarves of Middle-Earth were already dead and Men wouldn’t exist for thousands of years–in which case the clearly right thing to do is “stay and build up strength until you can actually defeat Morgoth instead of just slowing him down”. They don’t know. None of the Noldor know! And it’s made pretty clear that the Noldor who do go to Middle-Earth are, by and large, not doing it from a motivation of “wanting to help Men” (the rousing speech that helps convince them to leave Valinor includes “No other race shall oust us!”, it’s remarked that both Fingon and Galadriel want to see the world and have a kingdom of their own, there’s the obvious motive of revenge and taking back what was stolen, etc.). The concern for the dwarves, other elves, and Men all comes later. I love reading and writing stories where that is a primary concern of the Noldor leaving Valinor, to be clear, but I just want to be clear that they are–not really on anyone’s minds, quite yet.

It’s also really relevant to me that the Valar disapproved and refused to help from the beginning. Finarfin wanted to help, he wanted to come, he wanted to join and do good.

And then he saw what people do for the sake of action and a worthy cause. He watched his neighbors fighting his family, his wife on one side and his brother on the other. None of them were Morgoth. He saw people say “let’s leave Valinor and fight Morgoth” and he said “yes, count me in”; he saw them stab innocents, and then he said “…wait, no, maybe not that, maybe let’s go with Plan B.” I understand and have argued on behalf of the Noldor, including Feanor, for making choices that were reasonable given their circumstances, but– “massacres are never okay actually, I am not going to follow people who claim they want to fight Morgoth but in fact have done nothing but kill civilians” is not a weak justification, IMO! It is a valid stance that makes a lot of sense! That is also a reasonable choice given the circumstances!

And… Finarfin didn’t choose inaction. He fought in the War of Wrath. Finarfin chose waiting. Finarfin chose to repair the peace of Valinor–alone, because he had a Telerin wife and his children left for Beleriand–rather than lead his people to what he knew would be their deaths. Repairing a community, comforting the grieving–this is not inaction. Fighting and war is not the only action that counts. You might argue that he shouldn’t be focusing on minor problems when there were bigger ones to hand, but that’s a fully general argument for never caring about any problems that aren’t the Worst Problem In The World. If my sibling were to massacre my town ~for a good cause~ and I were to build a memorial instead of volunteering for a charity that promotes the relevant cause, it would be a douche move to be like “oh but that’s the same weak justification that the government uses to not promote [good cause]!” 

I think that it’s fair to say that the Valar had an obligation to help; Manwe positioned himself as King of all of Arda, and that comes with an obligation to all of Arda. They do have information, and they have reason to believe that they would be able to win or at least give a good fight (they did it before!). I don’t feel that anyone else, ever, has an obligation to go to war. (Similarly, I can be like “x government should go to war with y government” without supporting a draft; I feel like the Valar are more analogous to a government in this situation than an individual, and that if they do not want to do the things that being-the-government obligates them to do then they should step down.) Nobody ever has an obligation to do things that will almost certainly kill them for the sake of other people. It can be a brave thing and a beautiful thing to do voluntarily, but it should never, ever be the bare minimum Requirement To Be A Good Person. That’s something I feel very strongly about; I made a post about that here. He’s not King at this point; he’s a prince, and not even the Crown Prince. For most of his life, he’s expected to be–let me count this–fifteenth in line for the throne, in a land where nobody dies (this can be brought down to ‘fourth in line’, depending on who you count, but it’s still pretty far from ‘next in line’). He’s told, flat-out, in a prophecy from Mandos, that if he goes he and all of his people will die. His job, unlike the Valar’s, is not “protect everyone, promote good things in full generality”–it’s “protect my people and do what my conscience calls me to do”. He does that.

Also: the Valar have a lot more power than Finarfin in this situation, given that they can do things like “sink all of Beleriand” when they decide to help, whereas if he were to go help, he would’ve done–what? Held a territory, protected some elves, and almost certainly died. In the Bragollach? In the Nirnaeth? Before then, on the Ice, in the battle of the Lammoth, in the Aglareb, in the Fall of Nargothrond? It’s impossible to say–honestly, it’s hard to tell if those later battles would even have existed in the same form if Finarfin had come to Beleriand, politics in Beleriand were very fragile–but I’m pretty sure that he wouldn’t have single-handedly defeated Morgoth. (Though he could single-handedly unite the Noldor of Valinor and work out peace with the Teleri, such that the elves of Valinor are ready to come and help when the Valar decide to help defeat Morgoth. Comparative advantage is a thing!)

I also feel that it’s relevant that Finarfin has just had, like, five traumatic experiences in a row. His father dies; he joins a rebellion; he watches his family, I repeat, massacre his neighbors; his wife and children leave him. I judge decision-making under those circumstances significantly less harshly than I judge “a panel with much less intense personal connection debates for a while and comes to a conclusion”. People make mistakes in intense circumstances! I love characters who make mistakes like that! (gestures wildly at feanor & sons, at turin, at half the characters in this book)! “Finarfin made a mistake” is something I think is absolutely a valid argument, though I don’t personally agree. But I don’t think his choice reflects badly on him, or that it was selfish/cowardly/callous; I think that he made a hard choice in a painful situation, and that he was trying his hardest to do the right thing, and that there are lots of basically good and reasonable people who would do the same thing. (I am willing to defend this as a possible interpretation for every single character in the silmarillion except for outright villains such as Morgoth, incidentally.)

[artificialqueens]

Stake Through the Heart (Branjie)- athena2

So this is based on an amazing prompt from @writworm42: “If anyone is looking for a prompt of late, a branjie fic where Brooke is an Extremely Serious vampire hunter who hears legends about Vanessa and turns out Vanessa is an ennui-filled, sarcastic, chaotic good vampire (a la what we do in the shadows) who is Not At All afraid of Brooke would be complete and total poetry xx.” I hope this is at least somewhat what you imagined, and I hope you like it!

Brooke first heard about Vanjie when she was 12.

A year after her parents were killed and she went to live with her grandmother. 

A year after she was drafted into a war she had been groomed for her entire life, a war she quickly became an honored soldier in.  

“The Mateo clan is one of the oldest, most dangerous clans of vampires in the world,” her grandmother had explained early in her training. “Some say they go back to the 1400’s.”

“Vanjie is one of the most feared. She’s the last of the line. She’s been a vampire less than a century, but she’s killed more than those three times her age. Four hunters have been killed by her in the last year alone. None have ever managed to kill her.” 

Brooke shifts in the shrubs, eyes narrowing as a figure approaches. 

The brunette is yapping on the phone, parading through the cemetery like she’s at a party. Doritos fall out of a bag as she walks, a trail of fake nacho cheese breadcrumbs. Her wavy brown hair flows behind her, shining in the moonlight. 

Hand on her crossbow, Brooke stands, ignoring her screaming muscles, sore from 15 years of hunting. 

Gotcha, she thinks. 

—

It’s not the first time their paths have crossed, though neither of those times went according to plan. 

The very first time, none of Brooke’s careful training could prepare her for finally seeing Vanjie. It was probably some sort of vampire charm, but Brooke couldn’t take her eyes off Vanjie and her smooth skin, mesmerized by her big brown eyes. By the time Brooke recovered her mind enough to take out her stake, Vanjie had already disappeared without so much as flashing her fangs. 

She’d taken on Vanjie with junior hunter Plastique last winter, Brooke barely escaping with her life after Plastique knocked herself out with her own crossbow, but not before it misfired and an arrow lodged in Brooke’s chest, dangerously close to her heart. 

The pain must have made her hallucinate, because she thinks she remembers Vanjie putting Hello Kitty Band-Aids over a scrape on her arm, then vanishing right as an ambulance Brooke didn’t call for arrived. 

It was probably just a hallucination. 

Though she never was able to explain the Band-Aids. 

The arrow wound took months to heal and the scar tissue still twinges when she moves wrong. 

She went back to working alone after that. She should have known it was dumb to take someone under her wing; she’s better on her own, has been since she was a kid. She threw herself into extra training, extra research. She won’t fail again.

Third times the charm, and all that nonsense. 

—

“I know you in them woods, Blondie. Want some Doritos?” Vanjie’s voice sounds like a gangster from the movies. 

Brooke stills, heart thudding painfully. A vampire had never been able to pick out her hiding place. Vanjie was as good as the legends said. 

“Come on out,” Vanjie continues. “I don’t bite. Well, not on the first date, anyway.”

Brooke tightens her grip on the crossbow and moves silently out to the gravestones. 

“You here to kill me? You could at least buy me dinner first. Seriously. Minimum wage is shit. A bitch is broke.” Vanjie stands with her hips cocked and inspects her crimson nail polish. 

Brooke doesn’t say a word. She inches closer, her finger on the release. She should have already pulled it. Why hasn’t she? And why aren’t Vanjie’s fangs out? 

“Am I supposed to be scared of you?” Vanjie demands. “You pretty impressive, I’ll give you that. But you can only be so scary when you smell like lavender. Are you, like, 90?” 

Well, the lavender body wash was supposed to be calming, not that it’s working considering the way Vanjie is making her blood pressure skyrocket right now. 

Vanjie sighs. “Look, if you’re gonna kill me, can we go to my apartment first? I should be allowed a last meal.” 

This is against the rules. This is wrong. But this is the closest she’s ever been. She can feel it in her blood. Brooke shrugs. “Lead the way.”

—

Brooke was always a good student, bringing home A’s as soon as she was old enough to get letter grades. She didn’t go into her hunting career unprepared. 

She started at 18, the earliest they would let her, though she’d been training and studying for 6 years. By then, she was too late to avenge her parents: the two heads of the Mateo line died mysteriously when she was 16, no hunter taking the credit for it. 

But Brooke still worked. Within months, she was a top hunter, killing vampires that had been around for centuries. Each one was just practice, an appetizer before the feast. 

Last year, after months of studying the Mateos, she set her sights on Vanjie. 

She knows Vanessa Isabella “Vanjie” Mateo was born October 1930, the youngest of the Mateo line. She had been turned in the summer of 1958, when she was 27. She’d bounced around Puerto Rico and the United States, currently residing in Toronto. 

Brooke’s heard the legends, the stories of horrible vampires and the brave hunters that fought them in her ear since she was a child tucked into bed with stuffed animals. Vanjie’s were always the most gruesome stories, the ones that made her stay up all night fearfully clutching her stuffed rabbit as Brooke vowed to become the thing that vampires feared. 

According to legend, her kill count is in the thousands. 

According to legend, she ate the hearts of those she’d killed when blood wasn’t enough.  

According to legend, no hunter to engage in combat with her has ever walked away alive.

—

Brooke’s hands sweat. She’s not following the rules. She’s certain no hunter has ever been to a vampire’s home. But it’ll be worth when she gets revenge for her parents. When she kills the most dangerous vampire in recent history. When she becomes the brave hunter in the stories parents tell their kids. 

“You mind if I change first? I always say my job is gonna be the death of me, but I’d rather not die in this thing.”

The blue polyester polo is ugly, though Brooke thinks it looks unreasonably good on Vanjie. 

“Okay.”

Brooke takes in the messy kitchen with its checkerboard floor. Takeout containers are piled in the sink. None of the chairs match; one is a rocking chair, one is shaped like a giant hand, and one has ornate trim and red velvet lining. A goldfish swims in a soda bottle filled with water, while mysterious green liquid bubbles(?) in a fishbowl. The refrigerator has stickers reading “Meme Wall”, and is hidden beneath cut-out pictures of people and quotes even Brooke admits she can relate to. Strings of Pokémon cards serve as a pantry door, a lava lamp glows purple on the table, pink streamers hang from the ceiling light, just brushing the floor. Brooke forces her eyes down on the floor before her head explodes.

Something doesn’t add up. Where was the creepy dungeon stuff Vanjie had in the legends? This place looks like a bunch of stoned college kids decorated it. And why was Vanjie being nice to her? She can’t let her guard down. This is probably all a ruse; how Vanjie lures hunters in before she kills them. 

She is still standing, bow slung over her back, stake in its thigh holster, when Vanessa comes back in black leggings and a sleeveless shirt made of flowy red silk. 

“Stay a while, Blondie. Sit down and relax. You always so tense? Let me loosen those shoulders for ya.” Hands unclasp her bow and nudge her into a chair before clamping down on her shoulders and massaging out the aches. 

“I don’t–I’m not–my shoulders are none of your business!” She splutters, wriggling her shoulders until the hands leave, refusing to acknowledge how nice they felt. She stays in the chair, the velvet one, which smells like Sour Patch Kids mixed with wet dog. “I’m here to kill you, if you haven’t noticed!”

“So do it. I’ll even give you an open shot.” Vanessa pulls aside her shirt, exposing the smooth skin over her not-beating heart, and Brooke forgets how to breathe. Vanjie definitely has some sort of charm power. 

She makes no move for her stake.

“That’s what I thought.” She covers her skin, breaking the spell. 

“I will. Eventually,” Brooke promises. “I want answers first.”

“You want coffee?”

“No. It makes me jittery.”

“Good, ‘cause I don’t have any.” Vanjie reaches for a bright orange Frisbee, dumping in cereal and milk before crumbling chocolate Pop-Tarts and Fritos over the top. 

Where was the blood of her enemies? The hearts she ate for dinner? Brooke thinks she’d rather watch Vanjie eat a heart than this monstrosity. “Who the hell puts that in cereal? And why are you eating out of a Frisbee?”

Vanjie drops into the rocking chair across from Brooke before speaking. 

“Don’t judge me. I work retail and I deserve this. One, it makes Cocoa Puffs more chocolatey, and chocolate’s my main reason to live. Or well, to not die. Plus you get salty-sweetness. And two, A’Keria’s slacking off on the dishes.” She slurps up milk. “Why’s it matter? Who says cereal has to be eaten in a bowl? You know the shit I’ve seen? The earth is dying, bees are dying, who gives a flying fuck what I eat out of? You do. I bet you eat Raisin Bran with bananas.”

“Strawberries, actually.”

“So little soldier girl can tell a joke.” Vanjie grins. 

Brooke has to hold her own smile back. She’s here to kill this bitch. She’s never broken procedure like this, ever, and she has to remind herself she’s only going along with Vanjie’s nonsense because she’ll do whatever it takes to kill her. 

“So, why?” Vanjie asks abruptly. 

“Why what?” Brooke sighs. She wishes this bitch would shut up already so she can kill her, because the more Vanjie talks, the farther away Brooke’s stake feels. 

“Why do you hunt? Gotta be a reason,” Vanjie challenges with a smirk.

“My parents and grandparents were hunters.”

“Ah, family tradition. Hear that one a lot.” She crunches on a Frito.

“Your parents killed mine.” Shit. She had a strategy. She had plans, she had notes. She wasn’t supposed to blurt that out yet. 

“Well, shit.”

“That’s all you have to say?” Brooke’s out of her chair before she knows it, stake pressing against Vanjie’s chest. “My parents died! I…I was only 11!” 

Vanjie wraps her hand around Brooke’s wrist, her skin tingling. “I’m sorry. Can you give me a minute to explain? I know you’re all noble and stuff. Please hear me out.”

Brooke sighs and settles back in her chair, holding the stake tightly. 

“I’m sorry about your parents. I really am. That must have been hard. You were just a kid.” Vanjie’s voice is impossibly soft and Brooke finds her grip loosening. “But you need to know, I was never part of their whole murder thing. My parents…they cut ties with me decades ago. I wasn’t what they wanted. I like girls, first of all. And I wouldn’t kill. I only drink animal blood. I’ve never killed anyone.” She takes a breath. “Well, except for them.”

“What?” She drops the stake. This could all be a lie, and Vanjie could kill her any second, but she believes her. 

“Yeah. They said I could get back into their graces if I found myself a male companion or killed a newborn baby to prove my loyalty. You know, just basic things you do for your parents to like you,” she mutters acidly. “I just fucking had it. So I killed them.” 

“Holy shit.” Vanjie’s voice is deadly calm and serious, eyes dark, and Brooke knows she’s telling the truth. 

“Yeah.” 

“But-but the legends about you! You killed more hunters than anyone! You’re one of the most feared vampires in history!” She shakes her head frantically. How could this all be going so wrong?

“My parents made that shit up,” Vanjie shrugs. “Couldn’t have people know their daughter was a disappointment. It wasn’t like anyone was gonna fact-check ‘em.”

“I don’t think you’re a disappointment,” Brooke says quietly. 

Vanjie bites her lip and smiles sadly. She pulls her shirt open again. “So, we gonna get this over with?”

“Do you, like, want to die?” Brooke asks, making no move to hurt Vanjie, her mind still buzzing. 

“I mean, I’m not exactly having a good time in this hellhole.”

“Maybe you should talk to someone.”

“That’s your advice? A fucking therapist?”

“Sorry. My grandparents made me go to one. After, you know.”

Vanjie nods. After a few seconds of silence she stands up and leans in, placing her hand on Brooke’s shoulder. “Did you heal up okay? After your little friend got excited and shot you? Too bad I didn’t have enough Band-Aids to cover all of you.”

“You-” Her eyes go wide. It wasn’t a hallucination. 

“Yeah, I remember that night. Not everyday someone knocks themselves out with their own weapon. Couldn’t forget those eyes of yours, either.”

Vanjie’s hand slips underneath Brooke’s black T-shirt, fingers ghosting over the raised skin where the arrow pierced her. Brooke looks up at the exact second Vanjie looks down and then their lips meet. 

Vanjie’s lips are surprisingly soft and strong, pressing Brooke firmly into the chair. Vanjie’s hands roam all over Brooke’s chest and Brooke hesitantly lifts hers up to Vanjie’s back. There is no heartbeat pulsing beneath her fingers but Vanjie’s body feels infinitely alive as Brooke’s hands move to tangle in her hair. 

They break apart after what feels like years and Brooke tries to remember how to breathe. 

“That was pretty impressive, Blondie.”

“Brooke. Not Blondie.”

“Vanessa. Not Vanjie.”

They both look at each other awkwardly. “So I guess that means you’re not gonna kill me?” Vanessa asks in a small voice. 

“No. I’m not.” She gathers her bow and slips her stake inside its holster. 

“Leaving so soon?”

“Yeah. I-I should go.”

Vanessa nods. She gives Brooke a quick hug, hand steady over Brooke’s jacket pocket. Over her heart. 

“Mind the streamers on your way out. It’s some jellyfish costume Yvie’s trying to make.”

Brooke feels something inside her jacket pocket once she gets home. She pulls out a tiny piece of paper with a phone number on it. 

She falls asleep with the paper clenched in her hand.

—

The next day she dials the numbers that are unfamiliar to her but that she hopes become second nature. 

“Vanessa? How about that dinner?”

[edge-lorde]

original vampire bullshit 4. final!

i got to the orcs. it is done. felt good to write this but now i must sleep. will link to 1-3 tomorrow. EDIT:  part 1 here   PART 2 HERE  part 3 here

This next part may be a bit disjointed because at this point in time, I have not fully realized why the vampires of this world would be doing some of these things. I have no idea if this is even remotely efficient way of running a war effort. But this is MY pretend. The holes that i cannot fill will be taken care of by the concept of cow tools for now.

Blood farms. What are they? 

I have already written about how vampiric control works in free, normal countries. Those are the norm because vampires do not actually care enough about human societies to actually try to run them. But what happens when they do try to take more direct control? Typically these look like walled or very remote pieces of country with a small town in the middle. The vampires themselves typically still do not try to be enforcers of strict rules or be in direct leadership positions. There will still be human organization with the vampires off to the side somewhere with tables and lists of things they want this population to accomplish. Classically this is how much blood needs to be taken to sustain the patron vampire clan, who needs to give it next, and how to keep everyone healthy enough to do this. Quality of life in these places is usually fairly good, because the vampires see themselves as farmers and they need their crop to be healthy enough to harvest and also because they don't care about control as much as they do complacency. As much as they can, vampires try to make these places nice enough that people will not want to leave. They do this by providing enough resources so that there is nothing to fight over and by keeping their human populations extremely isolated so that there is nowhere that a human who wanted to leave could think to go. There must be enough space in these places that if some humans want to break off from the others they can, but not so much that the vampires can't find them. 

Now time for a little thought experiment. Imagine a specific vampire clan. A large one, with ties to the government of a powerful country. A branch of this clan decides that they want to build a vampire run health research facility. The goal of this would be to find an alternative to human blood that vampires could use instead so they could finally have they’re perfect floating vampire utopia in the sky. This sounds like a great idea to everyone. They set out to find a site in order to do this, but they want it to be vampire only, obviously.  So they decide to make it its own deal and have it be in conjecture with a blood farm, the concept of which already exists. This means it should be in an isolated place. 

They weigh their options and pick somewhere perfect. They begin construction. They wall off a section of forest and fill it with lots of domesticated plants and animals and build many nice places for humans to live. They build the research facility and begin the process of filling their blood farm population. They gather hundreds of babies and toddlers from both adoption agencies in their country of origin and from the existing communities in the place they decided to build. This place may not technically be part of their human country, but there are no other vampires claiming it so that makes it free real estate, right? The vampires gladly offer to let these existing human communities voluntarily integrate themselves into their overall workforce, but it seems that not all of them want to do this. That, and it really is better for blood farms to start without any ties to the outside world. This is why they primarily want children who don’t know how to speak yet, so they can be raised communally within the new city walls and taught a constructed language so they won’t have anything in common with the local humans and wouldn't be able to speak with them even if they did come across each other. It really is better just to make a clean break like that so there won't be drama later on. If the locals really have a problem with that then they really shouldn’t be allowed into the larger facility area either. And the vampires only use force to protect themselves. 

Flash forward a bit and what's this? The vampires human country is at war with with this other human-only conglomerate population thing? And the home country refuses to admit wrongdoing? In fact the larger vampire clan refuses to admit there is a ‘war’ going on at all? 

This war is very long and drawn out. Most of vampires weapons to be used against humans are bio-based. They begin conscripting the humans living in this blood farm (and others) as soldiers because the main country refuses to acknowledge the war. The focus of the research facility moves from health to military based. They begin to develop more soldiers at faster rates. They go from drafting existing humans to cloning and splicing perfect soldiers and create a separate class of human living in the blood farm. There are now civilians, which are the base population and do not leave the main blood farm unless it is to work at the facility, and soldiers who are raised from birth to fight in this war. 

The vampires build more facilities, they're getting good at it. The war goes on. Its less organised now, the enemy has been greatly weakened by the vampires bio-weapons but they have allies. The vampires are super paranoid about letting their super soldiers out into the world. They are terrified that the enemy could be catching up to them in terms of bio-tech and be creating their own super soldiers from their soldiers DNA, or by creating their own bioweapon diseases that could infect one of their own. Through that patient zero, their entire human population could in theory be wiped out, which would essentially end the war. The soldiers also take too long to make for them to make sense. The artificial womb is invented, that increases productivity but they still need to be trained from birth. Ways of pre-aging soldiers so they are ‘born’ as adults are invented, but they are useless and dont know how to do jack shit. Ways of implanting muscle memories and other knowledge and skills begin to be researched. 

It happens. The vampires army experiences a blow in the form of a counter bioweapon. Many soldiers die. They become barred from going back into the main blood farm population areas. The war effort slows. The vampires don’t leave but there is little left of the enemy human population left. After they had their success killing of the soldiers they retreat and try to rebuild for a while. There is an uneasy truce. 

The vampires do not stop their developing though. They realize they've been doing a lot of extra useless stuff with them that they didn't need to, once they realize they can make all training obsolete. They lie low for awhile. Turns out these new soldiers can be made pretty fast, like a full grown, fully trained soldier born in less than 10 months from nothing fast.  

But everything is quiet now. They are almost left to themselves as long as they don’t leave their facilities. This is what they wanted all along. But it's a matter of pride now. The vampires do not want to make peace with their human enemies now. They made a fool of the clan and used their own tech against them and never conceded. The land they live on is still not claimed by any vampire clan-- except for them. They will live to see these humans brought down now even if it takes a thousand years. They have all the time in the world. Its been at least a hundred since the war has begun. 

The vampires plan their next move carefully. They do not want to directly subject their home country to another war again. They would still rather humans would just take care of their own affairs. The ideal situation would be if another human population would just sweep in and finish the job. They had been made out to be monsters in the last war and they didn't like that at all. They knew that if they were to send out more soldiers like they did before, the enemy will know right away that they are to blame. What they needed was a scapegoat. 

I never mentioned this before, but other kinds of hominids currently exist/existed within living memory of this setting. Just roll with it for a second. The vampires decide what they need is for a new group to enter into the picture, one that everyone can agree is bad. Worse than vampires my a mile. Worse than the old stories told about them. Worse than any enemy they've faced before. An enemy that could be the enemy of all enemies and unite all others against them. The vampires would join this fight too, if necessary, meanwhile they would continue to manufacture this new enemy in secret. They would continue to do so until all their enemies were overwhelmed and forced to join up with the larger vampire run country for protection. It would be awkward at first, but what is the enemy of your enemy but a friend? 

In order to do this these new soldiers would have to look different from the old human soldiers. And they would have to act different too. They would have to strike terror into the hearts of all who came across them and be able to back up their threats. 

So the vampires thought to themselves what was the most terrifying enemy they could think of and it came to them-- Unaffiliated vampires. They have none of the reasons to value human or vampire life the way any natural being should and a reason to kill. Working off this framework, they set about finding ways to instill the perfect frame of mind into their future soldier experiments. In tandem with this, they began collecting odd features developed within their human experiment populations and began splicing them together. Next they began building great cylinder vats that could grow hundreds of these new soldiers at a time, as well as places to house them that were NOT near their precious blood farms. 

They planned to pack their heads with all they needed to know and no more, and supply them thinly enough to make the human towns enticing targets. All that, and a little bit of green dye was more than enough to make any human think these new creatures had nothing to do with them. Now all they needed was a name......

[victorluvsalice]

AU Thursday: Londerland Bloodlines -- Pre-Game Timeline!

So, I believe I've mentioned I'm replaying Bloodlines currently to determine what the timeline of the game is for my "Londerland Bloodlines" AU (now having been upgraded to an official story!). But when I started working on the opening chapter, I realized something -- I also needed to shore up the timeline for what happened before the events of the game! After all, even if I'm starting with Alice getting Embraced, knowing just how events in her and everyone else's lives happened is important -- if only because my characters are going to be telling each other their histories at some point. :p

So! Under the readmore is my current pre-game timeline for these versions of Alice, Victor, Victoria, Emily, Lizzie, and Bonejangles. I focused mainly on figuring out how Corpse Bride and American McGee's Alice/Alice: Madness Returns would go down, though I added some other notes explaining Alice's relationship to Wonderland in this world (since, obviously, she's not the Alice from the books!), and setting up how Emily, Lizzie, and Bonejangles ended up in the Giovanni Crypts. I may be tweaking things here and there as time and the story goes on, but this serves as a good first draft, anyway. Enjoy!

May 4th, 1984: Alice Pleasance Liddell is born to Arthur and Lorina Liddell – their second daughter after ten-year-old Lizzie (November 22nd, 1974).

June 9th, 1984: Victor Fitzwilliam Van Dort is born to William and Nell Van Dort, their only child. He grows up privileged but rather neglected, and becomes a rather shy young man.

November 5th, 1992: Angus Bumby, one of Arthur's psychology undergraduates at Oxford University who'd developed an obsession with Lizzie, breaks into the Liddell house, rapes and kills Lizzie, then sets the house on fire to cover his tracks. Arthur and Lorina die in the blaze, but a badly-burned Alice is able to escape through her bedroom window and is taken to hospital. She remains in the burn unit for a year, recovering – her body heals remarkably well, according to the doctors, but her mind doesn't. Unknown to anyone, a furious Lizzie's spirit refuses to go to the Underworld as a result of her horrific death, and remains at the site of the Liddell house, haunting it with vigor (namely throwing things at any male visitor).

November 11th, 1993: Alice is then taken to Rutledge Psychiatric Institute, as she's gone catatonic from survivor's guilt and won't respond to any stimuli. It's not as horrific an experience as her Victorian counterpart experienced, but Rutledge is still underfunded and contains Pris Witless and the Monroe twins, so it's not great either. During this time, Bumby manages to deflect all suspicion off himself for starting the fire by setting it up so it looks like the family cat, Dinah, knocked some still-burning kindling out of the fireplace, and sets up his Houndsditch Home for Wayward Youth – an orphanage for disadvantaged children looking for new homes and mental health.

September 7th, 2002: Alice shows her first sign of conscious life in years by drawing a picture of a rather more twisted Cheshire Cat than normal, as her subconscious gets tired of her laying around and plunges her into a mental fight for her life and sanity in a ruined Wonderland. Alice proceeds to battle her way across the various domains over the next year, and successfully wrests her sanity back from her corrupted counterpart, the Queen of Hearts.

November 1st, 2003: Having recovered enough to warrant living outside a care facility like Rutledge, Alice is released into the custody of one Angus Bumby, whose methods of memory management are applauded and derided in equal measure. Alice is only too eager to submit to his decree to forget the fire, but her subconscious doesn't make it easy – especially since she keeps thinking he looks familiar. . .

January 27th, 2004: Victor, taking a gap year between high school and college (to delay having to major in business like his father wants) is "strongly encouraged" to start dating his across-the-square neighbor, Victoria Everglot, daughter of viscounts Maudeline and Finis Everglot. Victor's parents think it'll be an excellent way to earn some more social status (they're millionaires many times over from the Van Dort canned fish empire, but their nouveau riche manners haven't earned them many actual friends among the elite), while the Everglots are only allowing this because they've been running on the ragged edge of "broke" for a while now and William is hinting some loans might be a side effect of letting their children date. Neither Victor nor Victoria is thrilled to be pushed into dating a near-stranger. . .but once they properly meet, they find their personalities mesh nicely, and they decide to keep seeing each other on their own terms.

May 28th, 2004: Victor and Victoria have been dating for a few months by this point, enjoying themselves and growing closer. The Everglots are growing less-thrilled with the arrangement by the minute and are constantly pushing potential alternate suitors onto Victoria – Victor assures her that he won't mind if she goes out with a couple just to shut them up, but Victoria is doing her best not to give in just so they won't believe they can run her life. On the Van Dort side, though, Nell's grown impatient with the two just dating, and manages to get Pastor Galswells to crash their date at the local coffee shop to (very reluctantly) extol the virtues of marriage. Victor is mortified and bolts – Victoria follows him, and assures him that she's willing to wait for a commitment. They manage to recover the date, even getting a prize from a little arcade game outside the laundromat – a cheap plastic ring. Victor goes on a walk afterwards in the local woods to clear his head, and ponders if he's ready to get more serious with Victoria or not. In the process, he ends up doing a mock proposal to what he thinks is a bunch of hand-like roots by an old oak, reciting the town's founder's vows and slipping the ring onto a finger.

Turns out it's actually a root-like skeletal hand, which promptly seizes Victor's wrist and tries to pull him into the dirt. Victor fights free, only for a half-rotted corpse bride to rise from the earth. He flees for the bridge – she follows and catches up before he can make it back to town. Victor faints as she goes to kiss him, and wakes in a strange and colorful world that he is informed is the Land of the Dead. Apparently everyone thinks he and the corpse – Emily – are married thanks to him speaking the vows. Victor blurts out that it was a joke – then, seeing Emily well up, clarifies he had no idea she was even there. He asks who she is and how she even came to rise – her friend Bonejangles steps in, explaining through song that she's a murdered bride, killed by the man who promised to elope with her, who vowed to wait under that tree for her true love to set her free. Victor feels awful for giving her false hope, and asks if they can talk more privately. Emily leads him to one of her favorite lookout spots, where they run into Victor's old dog Scraps (now just a skeleton). Victor apologizes for the misunderstanding, and Emily apologizes for frightening him – she was just so excited about finally being married. They talk a bit about Upstairs versus Downstairs, and Emily admits that she misses the living world and would love to see it again. Victor decides that maybe this is the least he can do for her and asks if he can take her up on a pseudo-date (after clearing it with Victoria first). Emily is all for this, and they head over to Elder Gutknecht's, the local magician, who provides them with a spell to return to the Land of the Living after sunset and stay there all night – once dawn breaks, Victor will remain, and Emily return Downstairs. They spend the time until nightfall touring the Land of the Dead – Victor finds he quite likes it and Emily, and tells her that, even if the circumstances aren't the best, he's glad he met her. She is too.

Finally, night comes, and the two return to the Living world. Emily pulls Victor into an impromptu dance in the moonlight, then Victor asks her to wait in the woods while he gets Victoria and brings her around to explain. He heads over to the Everglots. . .only to find the police there, and the Lord and Lady in a tizzy. Turns out, while he was in the woods, the elder Everglots finally talked Victoria into meeting one of their chosen men – one Lord Barkis Bittern, a newcomer to town who's been sweet-talking them. Victoria went to meet him at the coffee shop – and now they've gotten a note from Barkis saying that they'll never see her alive again unless they pony up fifty thousand pounds – a sum of money they just don't have. A horrified Victor checks in with his parents to let them know he's all right (there was some worry that he'd gotten kidnapped too), then sprints back to Emily to give her the news. Emily is equally horrified – and a little concerned, as the man who murdered her was named Edward Barkis. Victor gives her the description he got from the Everglots, in case he spotted the guy – yup, that's the bastard who killed her! Emily's certain that, even if Barkis does get the money, he'll probably kill Victoria anyway, so time is of the essence in finding her. They use the "emergency escape clause" in the spell to head back Downstairs, and explain things to Gutknecht, who agrees to help. Victor gives Gutknecht a flower Victoria gave him earlier in the day to help him track down her location, while Emily rounds up a bunch of her dead friends to storm the place and rescue her. Gutknecht finds Victoria in, of all places, the church – the gang descends on it, and finds both Galswells and Victoria tied up, with Barkis standing guard. He's – naturally a little shocked to see a bunch of walking corpses demanding he free his captives, but manages to regain his wits in time to steal General Bonesaparte's sword and duel Victor (who gets a barbecue fork from Ms. Plum that he uses rather well). Emily saves Victor from a fatal stabbing after Barkis disarms him, and a sneaky call to the police from Bonejangles summons them to save Victoria and Galswells. Barkis is brought in, Victor and Victoria are reunited, and the dead prepare to head back down Below. Victor introduces Victoria to Emily, and they thank her for her part in saving her. Emily thanks them in return, saying she was happy to spare Victoria a variation on her own fate and that she's thrilled to see her murderer finally brought to justice. She says that she'll probably be moving on for real to whatever's next soon, now that that's no longer hanging over her head, but that she'll keep them close in her heart. They say a heartfelt goodbye, and Victor and Victoria head home.

May 29th, 2004: The next day, Victoria apologies to Victor, but says the whole experience has badly rattled her and she'd like to take a break from dating while she processes it all. (In fact, she plans to take a break from the whole village, having talked her parents into reopening an abandoned summer home that they were never able to sell for a couple of months.) Victor understands – his parents do not, and he ends up on their shit list for supposedly letting her slip through his fingers. Even worse, Galswells immediately starts accusing Victor of dark sorcery because of the walking dead (never mind that they helped save his life). Few people take Galswells seriously, but even those who don't blame Victor for apparently driving the man out of his mind, and he becomes a figure of mockery and derision in the village.

July 4th, 2004: Alice, having endured about half a year of only semi-effective therapy from Bumby in the Houndsditch Home, suffers another psychotic break while visiting Pris Witless (who took to blackmailing her about a comment she made while not really with it that suggests she might have some responsibility for her family's death) and tumbles back into a freshly-corrupted Wonderland. This time, the source of her troubles isn't the Queen, but some sort of terrible Infernal Train built in the factories of Hatter's Domain, which flies across the landscape spewing a horrible black goo called Ruin everywhere. Alice battles her away across various domains trying to track down who commissioned the Train and how to stop the Ruin, while in reality she wanders in a hallucinatory daze across London over the course of about two months. During her travels, she almost drowns in the Thames after falling in; narrowly escapes a fire at her old nanny's bar (and secret brothel), set by said nanny's ex-pimp; runs afoul of the police by causing a scene at her old family lawyer's house looking for her beloved toy rabbit; and ends up briefly back at Rutledge when the local cops decide she's too much of a danger to herself to roam unsupervised. She goes catatonic again for a bit as she braves the last of her domains, and awakens with the terrible knowledge that Bumby killed her family – and worse, his activities at Houndsditch are a front for child prostitution. He isn't removing the painful memories of the children under his care – he's wiping their minds entirely and selling them to unsavory sorts! She tries to convince the staff of Rutledge of this, but none except Dr. Wilson and Nurse Darling are willing to listen to her – and even they can't do anything without proof. Superintendent Monroe forces her to return with Bumby when he comes to pick her up. . .

September 7th, 2004: So Alice confronts Bumby herself about his wrongdoings shortly afterward, cornering him in the Moorgate Underground during a quiet moment. Bumby smugly admits that she's right, claiming he's giving the children under his care a "new purpose" – and that Lizzie deserved what she got. Alice realizes that the key he uses to hypnotize people is in fact her sister's room key, and reclaims it, furiously telling him she'll go to the police with it. Bumby tells her no one will ever believe her – Alice points out the security camera, but Bumby tells her it hasn't worked for months (he made sure of that, since he uses this station to drop off kids sometimes) and that the key isn't enough to reopen her case. She can either storm off in a huff and return to the asylum, or submit to his care as the "tasty bit" he'd hoped to make her.

Alice takes a third option and pushes him in front of an oncoming train.

Fortunately, she's able to spin the incident as an accident (Bumby falling in front of the train) and – after a search of Houndsditch reveals his private journal, with the ledger for his less-savory activities – no one's much inclined to look too much into his death. Alice still thinks that it might be a good idea to get out of the country, though, just in case. Besides, after all that's happened, she craves a fresh start in a new world. She gets the help of Dr. Wilson (now the director of Houndsditch) to track down her rabbit, and prepares to go as far from London as possible – Los Angeles, California.

September 10th, 2004: Around the same time, Victor finally snaps when he receives a letter from Victoria, telling him her parents have decided not to move back to Burtonsville as they don't want to confront the memory of Barkis – or the Van Dorts. Without the hope that they'll be reunited and possibly resume their relationship, Victor decides to leave Burtonsville himself, concocting a story for his parents about wanting to go to college overseas. He too eventually decides that Los Angeles, California is the perfect place to go and starts making plans.

October 1st, 2004: Emily, having finished up what she wanted in the Underworld and said goodbye to all her friends, prepares to move on to whatever comes next. With Elder Gutknecht's help, she moves Upstairs for one final look at the moonlight before releasing her soul. . .

Only to have said soul snagged and bottled by a mysterious stranger. Trapped and only vaguely aware of what's happening to her, Emily is taken back to the Giovanni mansion, where she becomes part of a strange ritual. To her shock, the ritual restores to her a – well, semi-alive body; she's basically a very well put-together and sentient zombie. The resident Giovanni are impressed with her construction, but displeased she won't follow orders (they were expecting a servant), and lock her in the basement of their mansion for further experiments.

October 7th, 2004: Emily gains a cellmate – Lizzie Liddell! Turns out her soul was snagged by another Giovanni around the same time Emily's was, and she too was subject to the same ritual – with the same result. The two girls quickly bond over their shared backstory of "a rotten man plundered and murdered me" (if in two different ways), and their worries about their living friends (Victor and Victoria) and family (Alice).

October 10th, 2004: Getting frustrated with the failure of their latest necromantic ritual, the Giovanni try just yanking a soul straight out of the Underworld at random. By sheer chance (or perhaps the table still being contaminated with a bit of Emily's hair), they get Bonejangles, who is very surprised at going from a skeleton the Ball & Socket pub to sort-of-living man on a cold slab in a mansion in L.A. He's thrown in the basement too when he won't play ball – Emily is equal parts shocked, thrilled, and horrified to see him. Lizzie takes a little time to warm up to him, but his extremely different demeanor from Bumby and the other Oxford toadies wins her over, and soon the three are planning escape attempts and wondering just what the world outside is like. . .

October 14th, 2004: Alice arrives in Los Angeles, having reclaimed her bunny and said her goodbyes to her family's graves. She manages to snag a room at a rather crappy motel at the edges of the city, and starts looking for work and a better place to live. Unfortunately, her presence is noted by one Fish, a 7th Generation Malkavian, who sees her madness and decides that she must be brought into the clan. And what better way to lure her in than putting an ad in the paper, claiming he has an apartment for rent. . .

October 20th, 2004: Victor arrives in Los Angeles – or, more specifically, Santa Monica. He snags a rather nicer hotel room and starts trying to figure out what exactly he wants to do with himself while he's here.

Three days later, the question is answered when a drunk driver plows into him, and he ends up in the local clinic. . .

[mywhisperingintuition]

The Most Beautiful Love Letter

This is from a man who did something stupid and went to prison at a very young age for a long time. When his beloved who tried to move on with her life got married, had children and started a family, never forgetting her old flame decided to visit him 15 years later. A few days after the visit this is what he sent her.

Hello My Love, I like to think that I'm pretty good with words. I've always liked to write poems and stories and I have always dreamed of actually being writer. Of all the artists in my family, with all of their talent with pencils and pens and paints, I always felt like I could paint those same pictures with words. I know I'm not Stephen King, (as much as I wish I was), but I really thought that I had a talent with putting words together. Now I understand that I was wrong. I understand that I'm as skilled with words as I am with speaking Russian or repairing supersonic jet engines. I am a fraud, a pretender, I'm an epileptic first grader with Downs syndrome trying to write love letters. All I want is to take the way that I feel about you and express it in words. It isn't rocket surgery or brain science, it's telling a pretty girl that I love her, and I just cannot find the words. I apologize. You truly deserve better, you have always deserved better than what any of us have given you. You deserve better than what the world has given you. I have never deserved you or your love, but I'm selfish enough to gobble it up greedily and beg for more. I wish I could take the way that you look at me and dissolve it in a spoon, suck it up into a needle and push it into my vein. I wish I could mainline your love until I O.D., get hit with Narcan, regain consciousness, and then mainline it again. I wish I could dive into you, bathe in you, swim in you, drown in you, then die and find out that heaven is an eternity with you. But I'm too stupid to even find the first word of the first line of the first volume of the encyclopedia describing my eternal, undying love for you. I feel the words inside me, like a thousand Scrabble tiles jumbled together and waiting to burst out and define the width and depth and breadth of the emotion that I feel, but I am unable. 'I love you'. Three little words that struggle to express, using only eight letters, the magnitude of a love that was born in a sixteen year old boy, a love that grew and evolved and expanded and became something indescribable by the end of the first week, and evolved in a similar fashion every week, every day, every minute, year after year after year, and it only grows, expands, evolves, increases, enlarges, heightens, deepens, etc., etc., etc. And so I fail you. Again. I have failed you in everything since the very beginning. They say that it's the thought that counts, and I sure hope that the saying is true, because the attempts have failed time and again. I adore you, my beloved, more than you could ever understand. I love you from the beginning of time until the end of existence. I adore you from the molten core of our planet to the farthest reaches at the end of the universe. I don't know if you accept that I love you, I don't know if you doubt my affections, I don't know if you even want to believe that it's true, but I love you so so much. Spending Saturday with you reminded me of just what it's like to be near you again. I feel like each visit puts more of the distance behind us and we find our way back to each other. Even though we've spent a few days sitting in the same room, being physically near each other, I feel like our souls were still wandering in the dark calling out to each other, reaching out for each other, desperate, hoping, searching, brushing past each other close enough to feel a draft, but unable to grasp. I feel like sometime Saturday we found each other and wrapped our arms each other in a desperate, clawing embrace, flooded with a mixture of urgent need and sweet relief. I feel like most of my life has been like the most sadistic game of Marco Polo ever devised. Like I'm the only one ever wearing the blindfold, yelling 'Marco', and no one ever yells 'Polo' in return. Everyone backs away, slow, quiet, laughing as I flounder, alone, desperate, sad and angry, reaching out for anyone, anything, but never finding anything but empty air and cold water. Except not every time. Every now and them I feel arms wrap themselves around me, hold me, cling to me as desperately as I cling to them, and when I pull off the blindfold, there you are. In the past we've found reason or excuse or difficulty that pulls us apart and resets this demented, childish game of blind man's hide-and-seek, and I find myself reset to the beginning, alone, sad and desperate, reaching out knowing there's no one there. Not this time. Not ever again. I won't let go ever again. They can tear my arms off and I'll cling to you with my teeth. I won't let go. I absolutely refuse to watch you fade away again. It might be five years, it might be less than two, but I'm going to cling to you today, tomorrow, and every day between now and then, and when they finally let me of of here, I'm going to hold onto you twice as tight. I like to make plans for our future, but mostly just to have daydreams run on the backs of my eyelids where we are everywhere, doing everything, and always together. No matter what future I try to envision, it's just the two of us. I don't care where we end up, I don't care what we end up doing with our lives, I just know that we'll do it side by side. People can love us, or hate us, or take a flying fuck at a rolling doughnut, as long as I have you. Promise me that I won't ever spend another day of my life wondering where you are or what you're doing, or who you're doing it with. Promise me that I'll never have to wonder who I'm going to spend my life with. Promise me that you'll never have another husband that isn't me. Promise me that I'll never have to share your heart with another man. Promise me that you're mine. Promise me that we'll always be together. Promise me all of your love, every bit of it, for the rest of forever. Always. Promise me that your heart, your eyes, your smile, your mind, your body,  are all mine, only mine, and that we'll never ever be apart again, 'til death do us part.