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spearsillustration · 4 months ago

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🏛️ Senator Shockwave X Cybertronian Female Assistant Reader (Part 2/3)

Notes: Okay I said I might do a part two but deep down I knew I wanna gonna continue. But like the comic, this will end poorly for our poor bot. So I'll put a warning here. Gore/death will be mentioned plus comic spoilers I suppose. The first part was story building for Y/N more than anything else so this part is far more interesting, longer, and cannon. However, I did have to change a thing or two to incorporate (Y/N) in the story.

[Art belonged to me.]

- Scrap that, I'm gonna have some fun with this. I'm gonna include a good and bad ending.

- Okay there is gonna need to be a part 3 because this would end up being stupid long if I continue. But be ready, part 3 will be what you've all been waiting for.

Part 1/3 -

Word count - 3,403

Page number - 8.9

As I stood up with my files I looked back at the bot with a sympathetic look. I hated that someone like him needed a "bodyguard". Someone as kind as he shouldn't have others fearing that his spark could be extinguished at any moment due to some disagreements in politics. Guess that's why I never got into it myself.

He seemed to notice my sympathetic look, as his expression softened a bit. Seeing him so…emotionally expressive was almost odd, his normally stern expression had softened somewhat. It's not hard to guess why I would express concern or sympathy for him. As I collected my things, he gave me a small and reassuring smile. A show of appreciation for my concern, and acknowledgment of everything I just shared.

Though he appreciated my honesty, I knew deep down he was still upset with me. However, not nearly as much as he'd be with Orion.

"Would you like me to contact him for a meeting with you?" I asked as I still intended to fulfill my duty as an assistant.

He shook his head, his expression stern again. "This isn't a matter for a quick chat, this is something I need to speak with him in detail about. I'll contact him myself, and set up a private meeting later today."

"I'm sure you two have plenty to catch up on. May I accompany you, I too have plenty to talk to Orion about."

He seemed to consider his decision, seemingly not having expected me to add my concerns to this conversation as well. And after a short moment of silence, he nods. "As much as I may want to speak to him alone, it would likely be better if he hears multiple views on this matter, from multiple people. You're welcome to come along. And you're right… we do have a bit to catch up on."

He raised an eyebrow at my urgency, but quickly realized this subject must be important to me as well.

"Alright, let's return to my office." He turns and walks swiftly towards his office, expecting me to follow along.

The walk to his office was silent and urgent. We walked quickly hoping to avoid any conversation, especially with any other Senators who might still be hanging around.

The halls were mostly empty, as we had hoped. Most of the other senators had either left or were too busy arguing amongst themselves. When we entered his office, he closed the door behind us locking it quickly. He walks to his desk, sitting down in his chair and slouching forward with his head in his hands.

I quickly put everything of importance away in safekeeping. I would love to comfort the poor senator but I had more important things to take care of first. I stepped out of his office and found a safe place to talk where no one would hear me. I opened a comm link system and tried to reach Orion.

Thankfully, Orion seemed to answer your comm link request. He picked up soon enough and answered with a soft and casual voice.

"Orion here, how can I help you?"

"Orion It's me (Y/N). I need you to come by Shockwave's office. I knew you told me not to but he knows why you sent me here." I quickly said hoping he wouldn't get too upset with me.

Orion's usually casual voice changed very quickly and sounded a bit anxious. "He what? I told you not to say anything!"

He sounded more irritated than usual, and not at me specifically. It wasn't hard to imagine his expression was probably quite displeased at this reveal.

"I know, I just had to tell him. I couldn't stand not telling him. His life is in danger, he deserves to know. And I was in a Senate meeting today the others didn't seem to like someone else hanging close to Shockwave. They want him alone. I have a very bad feeling. We have to do something now I fear the worst for him, Orion."

Orion sighs, and his tone becomes a bit more serious. It's clear he's concerned, as worried as I am. "Alright… alright. Is he in his office now?"

"Yes, you should come imminently. If we even have a scrap of a plan he should be a part of it. If the three of us work together this will most likely have a better ending for him."

Orion takes a deep breath to think, clearly wanting to make a good plan quickly. He knows he has to be careful with this. "We'll need to be careful. We have no actual proof or anything that the others are planning anything, only that they seem to dislike him strongly. They could just be angry, and we have no evidence they're actually about to do anything...But at the same time, I would rather be safe than sorry."

"Weren't you supposed to get a tip from someone proving Shockwave was in danger?" I asked with an annoyed sigh.

Orion sighs. "Yes, I was. But the person who informed me seems to have… disappeared. And I'm not able to contact them at the moment, which doesn't help the situation at all. I am worried, but… I am trying to stay optimistic about this situation. I don't know how dangerous this will be, or if there's even anything to be worrying about."

"Well, I'm always worried. What's the name of the bot with the Tip? I'll track him down myself once you get here. Once you're here to watch Shockwave, I can trust he's safe and I'll get that Tip."

Orion takes a moment to check his logs, to recall the name "…A former Senate agent Whirl, was the one who informed me. I'm not sure I'd be able to track them down so easily. They seemed to want to remain anonymous for�� obvious reasons."

"Don't worry I know where to ask around. Get over here as soon as possible. I'll be waiting in Shockwave's office."

"…Alright. I'll be there as fast as I can. I hope we can peacefully settle this."

"As do I Orion."

[Timeskip to Orion's arrival]

It doesn't take Orion too long to arrive at Shockwave's office. He approaches the door, hesitant to knock at first. He eventually does and gently knocks on the door.

I quickly rushed past Shockwave to open the door. But before I let him in I scanned the halls to make sure no one was Orion. I couldn't be too safe. Surprisingly, the hall is empty at the moment. Orion stands in front of me, a nervous, yet concerned look on his face. Once he sees that the coast is clear, he walks in, and I shut the door behind him.

"I'll leave you two to discuss things alone. I have something important to take care of. I'll be back with the info you need soon I promise Orion."

Orion nods and watches as I walk away, before turning his attention to Shockwave. He can't help but notice Shockwave's expression has not changed, his face still hidden in his hands, his fists clenched, and his expression stern. There's no doubt in Orion's mind that Shockwave is quite unhappy with him. I noticed him sitting down across from Shockwave before I reached the door.

The second my hand touched the door I froze for a moment. I looked back at Shockwave and gave him a warm smile. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

Shockwave turns his attention towards me and nods, but his expression doesn't change completely. He was still quite clearly upset, but there was some degree of forgiveness in his glare. He nods and silently watches me walk out the door.

I walked down the halls with purpose as I knew just the place to find a bot who was lying low. There was an old bar on the opposite side of the city. I would have to rush. If he wasn't there someone would know where to find him. I was deep in thought when someone ran into me hitting my shoulder hard almost knocking me over. When I looked up to see who it was I almost gasped in surprise. It was one of the other Senators who was still hanging around.

"Sorry Senator," I said trying to walk past. "I have places to be."

The other senator scoffed at the apology, clearly annoyed by it. He glares at you sternly.

"You need to watch where you're going. Have some more care with your footing. Now tell me, where do you think you're going in such a rush."

I quickly came up with a lie about delivering important paperwork and quickly rushed off. I didn't have time to be stoped. I have a far more pressing matter to take care of.

As you walked away, the senator watched you walk away with crossed arms and a suspicious look. He didn't seem to believe your excuse, and he decided to follow you, to see what you were really up to. He was good at being stealthy, knowing how to stay in the shadows and blend in.

I quickly raced across the city to find this bot, Whirl was the name I fought to remember. I made sure to look like a regular customer and buy a drink. The last thing I wanted to do was raise suspicion. I scanned the room looking for someone who matched the description I found on the drive here.

Inside the bar, it was mostly empty, only a few people scattered around having a drink. And among the small group, there sat Whirl, sipping on some energon.

"Thank Primus I managed to find my bot. How could I get so lucky?" I muttered to myself before asking the bartender for two more drinks.

Whirl didn't seem to notice me yet and was busy just sipping his drink and minding his own business. I could assume he was a bit drunk already since it seemed like he had been here for a little while. I also noticed some kind of small item on the table in front of him. From a distance, it was hard to make out what it was.

I had a plan but I didn't like it very much. I put a fake smirk on my face as I swayed my hips walking over to him with both drinks in hand. I hoped I could fool him into a sense of security. "Hello handsome, drinking by yourself?"

Whirl looked up at me, and his expression seemed to soften a bit, and a small smirk grew on his face. It was clear that he thought I was cute. He gestures for me to sit beside him. "Indeed I am… though that may change."

"Well I do have an extra drink, and who desires it other than you," I said with a giggle trying to seem drunk.

"I'd be glad to take that 'little bonus drink' off you, then." He says, with a small chuckle. He scoots over and sits up a little straighter. His expression seemed to soften a little more.

After a few drinks I didn't partake in I think he would be easy to get information out of. I offered we left and went to his place with a wink. But what he didn't know was I had a plan for him he wouldn't enjoy.

Whirl gladly agreed with my offer, and began to make his way out of the bar with me. He was quite drunk by this time, his steps were wobbly. He had already had a decent bit to drink for a few hours, and he had no intention of stopping anytime soon. A smile grows on his face again as we walked out the door.

"So uh… to my place then?"

"Why wait?" I said roughly pushing him into an ally with a pair of cuffs already in hand hidden where he couldn't see. I had to make him believe he wasn't cornered.

He was so drunk his first instinct when I pushed him was to think that I wanted to do it right here. He was more surprised by the fact that I just pushed him into an alley than he was being pushed into it. He smirked again, a bit confused and a little more eager now "Well, if you say so…. you're an eager one aren't ya?"

Just the idea made me want to throw up. I'd rather die than do anything with him, especially after how many drinks he's downed in the past hour. But I had to go along with it till I could lock him down.

"Oh yeah definitely." I lied before wrapping my arms around him seductively only to cuff him to a pole.

Whirl still hadn't quite processed what was happening. He was too drunk to think clearly. He didn't realize what had happened when I wrapped my arms around him, and he smiled at the contact. When the cold metal of the cuffs touched his wrists though, his expression became more panicked, and he tried to shake me off, realizing.

"hey— wait what? What are you doing?"

"Making sure you can't run off like you did on Orion. You have something I want." I answered taking a step back.

"Hey now, let's just talk about this, let's talk."

He tries to sound calm, looking me in the eyes, but he's panicking because he can't get out of these cuffs. He glances around at the surroundings, to see if anyone might be around to help him.

"No one is here to help you, you can only help yourself. Answer some questions and I'll let you go." I threatened, not needing to pull a gun on the poor guy, for now.

Whirl glances around frantically, as if looking to confirm what I said, and realizes that I was right, there's no one here at all. And no one could see them from outside the alleyway either, because of how narrow it is. His expression becomes a bit more panicked.

"Alright alright, just… ask what you want."

"Gladly," I said before setting up a recorder so I had physical proof. "Tell me all you know about some of the other Senators looking to harm Shockwave."

Whirl looks a little confused. "I...I don't know much, I swear. I'm just an intel guy, I don't get involved in anything big. I just gather information for people and hand it off when I'm done. Orion hired me to find some dirt on a couple of the senators…. He didn't specify which ones in particular though."

"Tell me everything now!" I ordered.

Whirl panics a bit at your command. "I don't have much of anything! They're just… they're annoyed with him, he's too good at his job and they feel like he thinks too highly of himself, they think he should be taken down a notch because of it. I-I don't know much else I swear, I don't know who specifically it is or anything more than that, I promise."

I groaned in annoyance. "That can't be everything, you have to know more. Is Shockwave's life in danger?"

Whirl shakes his head, his expression becoming more nervous than it was before, clearly, he was scared, and a little annoyed by my stubbornness. "No no no, they're angry like I said, but they're not gonna kill him or anything like that. They just… want him gone, so they can get rid of his influence. They don't like that he has so much power around here. They think someone else should be in his place."

"What do they plan to do with him?"

"I don't know all the details, but I assume either force him out of his position or… get rid of him somehow. They haven't settled on a plan yet or anything, I think they're still in the early planning stages of everything, that's why Orion wanted information before they decided on anything specific. Look, that's all I know right now, I swear. Please, just let me go now."

"Useless," I muttered to myself in annoyance. "If I knew you didn't have anything of use I wouldn't have wasted my time." I started walking away.

Whirl's expression becomes less panicked, but more irritated now. "Hey, wait! Don't just leave me here! Let me go!"

He pulls on the cuffs, even though he knows there's no way out of them.

I ignored his pleas. "Don't worry someone'll find you eventually." I had more important things to do.

Whirl's panic becomes more extreme as he sees me start walking away, his tugging gets more serious, and his struggles get more desperate. "No wait come on! You can't just leave me like this! Get back here and let me go!"

I could almost laugh. He was already sobered up desperate to have the cuffs removed. It's a shame he wasn't of use to me. Plus he didn't just waste my time but Orions as well. If not also puts us all in danger. It was best to have him kept away for a while anyway. As I walked away I called Orion.

Orion picked up almost immediately, and I could hear how much more stressed he them when I left before. "Did you find anything yet? Any new info?"

"No you're tip was a bust. He didn't know any more than we already did. I'll send you the audio clip of what he told me."

Orion sighs audibly, and he sounds both frustrated and annoyed. "No information at all? Damn it. He was our only lead right now, we're still in the early planning stages of our own investigation."

"Yeah I know, I just… dammit, we really need something concrete here." He sighs again before moving on to your other question "I spoke to Ratchet before, and as far as I know, he's still on our side, or will be when we figure this out completely. He doesn't like that we don't have proof that anything is actually happening yet, and he wants to get something solid before he helps out with anything, which is fair, though I still think he should be a bit more worried than he seems."

"I know neither you nor Shockwave will like this but wouldn't keeping him in witness protection be the best plan of action for now at least."

There was a pause for a moment as Orion considered your idea. "In all honesty, yes, but I know we won't be able to convince Shockwave of that. He'll be adamant on staying in charge and having things run as normal, he's probably the one in the most danger here, but he's definitely the most stubborn."

"Maybe I can talk him into it myself."

#art #fanart #sketches #sketchbook #transformers #transformers fanart #digital art #senator shockwave x reader #transformers senator shockwave #senator shockwave #x reader #transformers x reader #oneshot #three parts

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13leaguestories · 6 months ago

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This came randomly to me after I understood all the characters and their personalities and stuff, buuutttt, how would they react if they went through the dream Roe had at the beginning of S1? The one they told the therapist? And how would they look or respond to Roe after being told that’s what happened to them?

I’m mostly curious about the main crew like Chris, Sydero, Bradley, Rahim etc.

(Absolutely loving superstition and your writing and I’m sitting here waiting for the rewrite like a child waiting to play games with their parent)

It's chugging along, Anon. Hopefully I can share more soon.

So, Chris actually knows about the dream. As he obviously knows why Roe is going to therapy. So canon is Chris does just think it's a dream and agrees with the therapist where they always say it was just a way to explain the trauma in a more child-like manner.

Going through it, Chris wouldn't have told anybody. He'd be traumatized to hell and back but he would have kept it all to himself and tried to rationalize it away.

I'm trying to remember if Sydero knows but I think she knows the gist but not all of it. Either way, she'd probably be able to understand Roe the best since going through her own childhood trauma in Hell with "The Box." Going through it I think she'd come out like how she came out of her own ordeal, traumatized and that trauma is absorbed into her personality.

Not doing Zillah cos he knows what happened and it's kind of hard to transfer someone who knows what happened to a T into something.

Interesting enough, Rahim didn't go through childhood trauma, not in the same way as Syd and Roe so I do think if he did go through Roe's dream then he'd be different but my gosh I can't even imagine how. As he is very much a momma's boy so what would her death + the horror of it do to him. Like, would he be more Sydero coded??

If Roe told him I think he'd try and give them some bullshit excuse or some sentiment that means nothing, mostly because of the angel's hand in everything. He's not good when it hits too close too home.

Amari is a good one because she would 100% be horrified if Roe told her and she would just be speechless. I think she would be horrified of shades after that and she would definitely start asking the important questions like "do all the reaper hybrid kids go through that" and "what would have happened if it worked out like it was supposed too."

She wouldn't survive it I think. I think if Amari lost her mother the same way as Roe, she would not be anything like she is now. She would be so much more of a shell, no bubbly personality or positive outlook.

Chanara doesn't know, doesn't even have an idea of what happens for the reaper hybrids. She knows they exist and Death needs them but that's about it. So, I do think if Chanara knew she would start questioning leadership. She's a good soldier but she's not great at hiding her thoughts when she doesn't agree with something, which is why she mostly tries to mind her own business.

If she went through it I think it would be similar to Roe but mix a bit of Winchester spirit in there. Chanara wouldn't have just chalked it up to a dream and would have doubted the "true story" until she learned of the supernatural and went on a revenge journey.

And lastly, Bradley would probably be like "damn, you too." I might even try to incorporate Roe telling him because I think that at the very least the OG crew (Syd, Chris, and Bradley) should know about it. If Bradley went through it then just add shades too the list of the beings he detests. If Bradley was Roe, Zillah wouldn't have made it because Bradley would have done everything he could too flip the tables and make Zillah pay and wipe him off the face of the planet.

#superstition ask

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partyanimal167 · 8 months ago

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Never a Shortage- Miguel x F!Reader

I didn't forget this story idea! I was trying to clear some of my drafts, but this idea was nudging for a bit. Plus, I know it's going to take me a bit to develop it. I'm so excited to see where this goes and enjoy the sexy drama~

Poll Results Song Inspo

CW: SMUT, mdni, black fem reader in mind, Miguel variants, mild cussing, dirty talk, jealousy trope (not crazy toxic), praise kink, lowkey brat!reader x brat!miguel lol

It was always so good with Miguel. You knew what each other liked. Boundaries were respected. It helped with his grumpiness and for you to relax a bit. But Miguel hadn't learned to watch his mouth. And that was going to get him in trouble. A wakeup call was due.

You tried to be mindful of your strength as you held onto both the headboard and Miguel's head slurping at your core. You've gotten lost in the feeling of Miguel's skilled tongue on you before, and the financial cost wasn't cheap.

Your thighs tightened and stomach flexed as you continued to moan aloud. "Damn baby, damn baby! It feels so good," you panted loudly as Miguel grinned to himself.

It was always so good with him. He seemed to be able to tell that you were a bit on edge and was in a giving mood. He'd let you use him for whatever you'd want especially if you'd sing him praises loudly.

"Fuck," you gasped as your orgasm slammed into you suddenly. Your thighs immediately tightened as Miguel continued to lick and suck on both your hole and clit. You pulled at his hair which Miguel groaned before coming up for air.

A cocky remark was on the tip of his tongue before he was yanked up and met with your lips. He eagerly matched your enthusiasm and hummed as he remembered all that strength that was well-hidden.

"Did you like that kitten?" Miguel chuckled as he peppered your face with kisses.

You pouted. "Behave, Miguel."

A kiss and a chuckle. "I think you like it when I don't."

"I like it more when your mouth is occupied."

"Well then let me get to work then." He easily lifted your torso and slowly licked his tongue up from your hip bone to your collar.

Your body began to simmer once again and you sighed into that feeling. "Good boy."

~~~

You stretched your arms and let out a quiet groan as you released some of that built up tension. A day of dimension hopping was not the way you wanted to celebrate your latest victory against your city's 'villain of the year.' But if the wicked never rest, then neither do the heroes. So you continued with your Spider Society work at least comfortable knowing that things were good back home.

But you needed some rest.

So soon you found yourself in a hot bath with candles around and your mind floating away.

The water soothed your muscles, and you wanted to melt into the feeling. It was nice being super strong and durable, but you still wanted soft, gentle moments. You enjoyed the sweet scents from your body wash and notes from the lofi in the background. Things had been good for you recently to be honest--even with the chaos of fighting evil.

There was some more stability in the multi-verse, and you were trusted to check in with different dimensions--even before your little arrangement with one Miguel O'Hara.

It made you laugh because your random moment of boldness worked in your favor. Your mind had just been running, and when you caught O'Hara at the Society's pool party, the words 'Holy shit' found their way out. Miguel simply raised a brow and ask if you saw something you liked. Cliche? Yes, but he is a nerd so. Your boldness popped out when you followed up by saying you wanted to see more. And well...mix tequila and reggaeton and inhibitions tend to lower.

So somehow hot, steamy sex was incorporated into your busy schedule and who could complain really? You weren't necessarily looking for more. There was too much baggage you carried and didn't want to deal with. It seemed the same with Miguel. Either way, it was all easy-peasy going.

You continued to soak when the door to the bathroom slid open causing the candles to flicker a bit more. You kept your back facing away as there was only one person really who would be so bold to interrupt your quiet time like this. But it wasn't unwelcomed either.

Miguel groaned as he stepped into the hot water and filled in what space was left in the tub. He leaned over to peck your cheek. "I haven't seen you in awhile." he mumbled before pulling you into his lap.

You giggled as you sat back and played with the bubbles. "I just saw you like 5 hours ago when you were sending the team out."

"Yeah, but that was for work. I mean my little princessa." Miguel corrected. He certainly seemed in a 'good' mood.

You hummed to yourself as you started to lather up your loofah. "Busy saving the world back home: getting people away from falling cars, dismantling complicated weapons. I'm sure you heard about it." You went on nonchalantly. But Miguel knew the truth. You may not have been the most scientific nerdy Spider, but you were still too smart for your own good. He doubted much could actually give you trouble. That's why you were so reliable.

"Hmm, well let me get that for you," he reached for your loofah, but you reached it further. "Hey!"

"Ah ah, this is my relaxing time. Not sexy bath-fucking time. I want to stay clean." you argued and huffed.

"Aww don't be like that, mami. I know you're relaxing. You would have came to me otherwise if it was something else."

You paused mid-stroke and turned to look up at him. "What does that mean?"

Miguel held his hands up and shrugged. "Well you definitely seek me out when you want something, so I-,"

"You say that like it's meh to you," you shoot back.

"Definitely not, but I'm pretty sure I'm the favorite compared to whoever you're seeing." Miguel cockily replied. "And you do come by whenever I'm not too busy. Keeping tabs on me, hmm?"

You puffed your cheeks as you poked hard at his chest. "Don't act like I don't give it good to you either! I know some of things you like whispering in my ear. Just so you know, I certainly have options."

"Mmhm."

"What the hell was that? I'm serious!"

Miguel grinned and chuckled. "I'm sure you are, bebita. I like being the one you go to; that's all."

But his cockiness annoyed you for some reason. You were catch no matter where you were. And even if Miguel was too, he should certainly appreciate having you around to match his freak.

You didn't fight him off as he kissed up and down your neck or as he massaged the exact knots in your back. You liked it, wanted it. But a little idea was forming in your head, and you were beginning to plan exactly how you'd get your point across to that cocky Spider.

~~~

And we begin! I'm trying to think of who should be the first variant Reader goes after~ Maybe I'll do a poll and let you all decide

I'm excited to see how this fun little idea goes. Thanks so much for reading!

Taglist: @sukunash0e @jinnieminniemoon

#atsv #across the spiderverse #spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 #atsv fanfiction #mine #nas fic #partyanimal167 #miguel smut #spicy #black fem reader

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come-on-shitty-boys · 1 year ago

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// The Rules of K. Ink. inked 03. //

prev << 03 >> next

*The nature of this series may be not be appropriate for all readers. Content warnings include: vulgarity, heavy swearing, and implications of adult relations. Due to these themes, this series may not be suitable for readers under the age of 16. Reader discretion is advised.*

Kuroo Tetsurou knew he made a mistake when you came waltzing in with that cocky grin plastered on your face. He was hoping that, at the very least, you would have some humility with the situation, but you just proceeded to sidle right up next to him at the counter, eyes trained up at him as if you were the one giving him the opportunity of his dreams.

“Well, well, alley cat. I had a feeling that you wouldn’t be able to resist me,” you say low and smooth, the corner of your mouth twitching up into a teasing smirk.

He could already feel the steady drum of a headache settling in behind his temple and he had a sneaky suspicion that it wouldn’t be going away anytime soon. His bright eyes blinked slowly, almost unamused, before he pushed away from the counter, walking off further into the shop leaving you behind.

“If you’re going to work with me, kid, you better learn to move those damn legs,” he shouts, leaving you to scramble in an effort to catch up to him. This was everything that you’ve been hoping for ever since you first stumbled across his Instagram feed all those years ago. He had just been starting, no more than 200 followers and maybe a dozen likes on his posts, but the talent and the seeming mastery of the craft was all there, even if he was only 20. His page had grown with him as an artist and you had been right there every step of the way, admiring from afar, picking up his techniques and incorporating them into your own work. He was, to put it simply, your biggest inspiration, your push in the right direction.

You clutched the strap of your bag. It had been in the back of your car, waiting patiently for the call that you knew was coming. Sketchbook, pens, pencils, inks of various colors, everything that you could possibly need to make the most out of your tattoo artist apprenticeship. You felt like a kid wandering around a toy store. Frames upon frames of artwork were displayed in the front window of the shop, each piece signed with an extravagant ‘KT’ in the bottom corner. Paintings of various sizes littered the walls depicting various landscapes and buildings, each one seeming to carry an essence of home between the brush strokes. It has you slowing to a stop, leaning in close for a better view at all of the tiny individual shapes that pulled the full picture together.

“Did you make these?”

“Rule number one. Don’t ask pointless questions. You’re here to learn, not uncover my life story.” Kuroo doesn’t even bother to look back at you. He just pushes open a door to a small supply closet, taking something down from a shelf. His smile was almost too kind when he turned back to you, but his eyes didn’t carry that same sentiment. They were almost cruel, narrowed to a point that you could barely make out any color at all. “Welcome to K. Ink. It is K dot Ink and you will call it as such.”

“But your sign says-”

“I know what it says!”

“And your instagr-”

“K.Ink was taken!”

“So you chose k-”

“Rule number two! Do not call my shop or anything associated with it Kink! Now, I have some work to finish, so I can’t deal with you right now. Bokuto took a massive shit earlier and now the bathroom fucking reeks, so I’m going to need you to take care of that for me. Unfortunately, our toilet brush is having some technical difficulties and had to be taken to the repair shop, but luckily for you, we do have this toothbrush. I’ll see you in a few hours, kid!”

“Hours?!”

“I told you. Massive shit. Remember, if you breathe through your mouth it won’t smell as bad!” Kuroo pushed the toilet cleaner and the small plastic toothbrush into your hands. “Gloves are in the cabinet. Have fun, kid.” He gives you a firm pat on your back that has your body lurching forward as he walks by you.

“Wait! Kuroo!” If he heard you, he sure didn’t act like it, because he didn’t even acknowledge you. He just kept moving, black boots tapping rhythmically against the tiles as he disappeared back into his own work space. You stared down at what he had given you, not exactly the materials you were expecting to need for your apprenticeship. Accept defeat or march in there and tell him no? Accept defeat and you’re left on your hands and knees scrubbing a disgusting toilet bowl, nose deep in a smell you could do without. But, telling him now, could just result in him telling you to leave again. He wouldn’t even give you a second chance. Taking on an apprentice was already out of his comfort zone, surely one fuck up would just have him shooing you away with your tail between your legs.

You pushed your sleeves up, reaching for a pair of gloves in the cabinet and letting them snap down against your wrist with a satisfying noise, holding a tight grip on the handle of the toothbrush.

Defeat it was.

Hours seemed to pass and each time you heard a set of footsteps, you could only hope that it was Kuroo coming to finally tell you to stop scrubbing. But he never came. Those bells above the door just kept chiming as clients arrived and left, satisfied with their K. Ink experience.

“You’ve had them scrubbing that bathroom since 2 p.m., Kuroo. I’m pretty sure it’s cleaner than it’s ever been,” Akaashi stated, peering up at Kuroo over his glasses. It was almost 5. With walk-ins unwelcome and only a handful of piercing appointments scattered over the next few hours, the work day was closing down and the other two staff members of K. Ink had to have a proper introduction with the newest member of the team, who apparently was just doubling as their janitor.

“They’ll be fine. It hasn’t been that long. Besides, you smelled that bathroom! It needed a good cleaning.” Kuroo shrugged, leaning against the front counter, typing away the caption to an Instagram post.

“Kuroo, you’re supposed to be teaching them how to be a tattoo artist, not how to clean toilets.”

“I didn’t teach them how to clean, they figured that out themselves.”

“Kuroo-” Akaashi warned.

“What?” There was not another word from the desk clerk. He simply shook his head, pushing his glasses back up his nose, turning his attention back to the computer. “Akaashi!” Kuroo whined, sinking down against the glass countertop.

“I just cleaned that. Don’t get your fingerprints all over the glass or else I’ll make you clean it.”

“Then I’ll just make-” he paused. Akaashi could practically see the gears spinning inside Kuroo’s head. “Do you remember their name? Kid, apprentice, I don’t know, whatever their name is- they can clean it when they’re done in the bathroom!”

Akaashi rubbed his face over his hands, bringing his coffee mug up to his mouth. No amount of caffeine was going to get him through this day, hell, through the span of your time at the shop. “You don’t even remember their name and you have them scrubbing our toilets? You’re absurd, Kuroo.”

“You’re going to give me hell over this forever, aren’t you?”

“I’m going to give you hell about it until you see that this is ridiculous.”

Kuroo just sighed and rolled his eyes, stepping back from the counter with his hands up in surrender. “Everyone has to go through some sort of shit when they get an apprenticeship. It’s just how it is.”

The smack of his palm against the door made you jump, had you scrambling for the toothbrush that had long been forgotten and had been traded for cycling endlessly through the same three apps for nearly two hours now. The door teased open just as you had dipped your hand back into that disgusting toilet bowl to at least pretend like you had been scrubbing away this entire time.

“I’m not going to lie, this is a pretty disgusting thing to watch.”

If you weren’t so determined to keep this damn apprenticeship, you would’ve smacked the absolute shit out of him with that nasty toothbrush. You could just slump down against the wall and look up at him. “It’s not exactly the most glamorous thing to do either.”

He leaned against the door frame, arms tucked over his chest. “Come on, wash up, and let’s go. I got another job for you.”

“What? Am I going to be polishing your tiles with your gym socks?”

“You know, that’s really not a bad idea. Maybe some other day. Just move your ass and get up.” He waited in the doorway just long enough for you to scrub your hands under the running water of the sink before stalking off back towards the front of the shop with you having to almost run to catch up with him.

“Kid, this is Akaashi Keiji, he’s the front desk clerk, you know, the one you blatantly ignored this morning.”

“Hi. Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, Akaashi,” you state, reaching your hand across the counter for a greeting.

He nods, giving your hand a firm shake. “It’s a pleasure.”

“Bokuto!” Kuroo shouts as if he wasn’t ten feet away from the piercer’s room.

“He’s with a client right now. You’ll have to give him a few minutes,” Akaashi says, eyes darting from you to Kuroo and then finally settling on you, studying you like a textbook, steel eyes tracing over every inch of your face before finally nodding in contentment.

Kuroo hummed as he leaned back against the counter. “Well, we have some rules to finish up anyway. Where were we? Four?”

“Three.”

“Right. Rule number three. There’s a shop a few doors down. You know the owner’s name, you’ve almost said it. We don’t talk about him here. You keep that snake-ass bastard’s name out of my shop.”

“Snake ba-? Oh! Do you mean Dai-”

Kuroo raises his index finger up to your lips. “What did I literally just say? Rule number four. Listen. You have ears. You better use them.”

“What’s your problem with him? He’s cool,” you pause, eyeing your new boss up and down, letting a smirk pull at your lips as you watch him start to unravel at the mere discussion of he-who-shall-not-be-named. “Cooler than you.”

His voice is low, almost a growl as he leans into you, stooping down so he’s right in front of your face. “Tell me rule number three, pip squeak.”

“‘Keep that snake-ass bastard’s name out of the shop.’ Yeah, got it, boss. It was just a question, damn. What? You two have some secret romance going on? Are things not good between you two in the bedroom, is that what this is?” You ask, mock sympathy painted over your face. “You know, it’s actually really common for men your age to have perf-”

Kuroo looks at you completely exasperated and utterly baffled that that’s where your mind instantly went. “Do not even finish that sentence.”

You turned to Akaashi and gave him a teasing smile. “That’s a yes.”

“Rule number five. Do as I say. If I want you to rewire the electrical, you’re going to rewire the-”

“No, they aren’t. That’s how you get a fine from the fire department. You already have a health code violation against you. Don’t be stupid,” Akaashi warns.

“Fine! No electrical work! But, rule five still stands. For these next few years, you better be ready to be at my beck and call whenever I need you during business hours. Which brings us to our sixth and final rule. Do not contact me outside of business hours. We are not friends. I do not want to be your friend. This is a strictly work relationship and it will remain that way, are we clear?” Kuroo finishes, raising an expectant eyebrow at you.

“Alright, that should get you all finished! You wanna pay cash or card? Cash? Great, then I can go ahead and take that from you. Remember to just give me a call if you have any questions or concerns.” The big man who had tried to stop you during your desperate attempt at gaining your apprenticeship emerges from a room, a client sporting a nose ring that was still a little red trailing behind him. He smiles brightly and waves as the shop door closes behind them. “Man, you never would’ve believed how much she bled! I mean, I get it, you just got a needle jammed through your nose, but damn! I haven’t seen one bleed like that since I did your eyebrow, bro!” He turned his attention to you. “Had blood dripping down his face like crazy. Looked like someone had beat him real good upside the head. I’d wipe it away and woosh! More blood.” The man paused, finally getting a good look at you. He leaned away from you to look you over. “Do I know you?”

You shake your head, holding your hand out towards him. “Y/N. I’m Kuroo’s apprentice.”

“Oh! You were-” He laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Sorry about the toilet.”

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monkey-papermoon · 7 months ago

Text

Here is the first chapter (I call them Verses to incorporate music terms which has plot relevance later) of my story, of which I have 10 Verses, The first chapter is a bit rough but I gradually learn as I go along and where i'm at in the story now is a lot better in my eyes. Hope you enjoy! any questions please ask :)

The Ballad of Longdead Yuli

Prelude

⌖

"I've walked this road for many a year, unsure if I will ever find what I'm looking for, I often wonder if there is anything to look for anymore, or perhaps this world has long since swallowed any hopes of prying eyes ever meeting it again. I have no reason to continue, yet still my body pushes forth, driven by... in search of..."

In this world there exists a tree. One whose roots span through every quarter of this planet. Harboring the population within its expanse. A mainstay hardly questioned nor pondered upon as anything but truth...

This story is one of purpose. Crossing fates; Identity, the indominable human spirit and what it means to be alive.

Our story could begin anywhere. In the comfort of a home where someone has cracked open a book under some light; on someone's free time away from their busy life; A passing glance from a library visitor and so on. But, for our purposes, we begin with sand blasted wastes, a girl of no name, and most importantly – A Diary of Dust.

Verse

ONE

D slid shrewdly down the steep cliff-face, breathing in with a gasp as she reached the foot of it. The desert night was just giving rise to the morning sun, as such it was still frigid. The ringing of gunfire was still in her ears, she had been running from them. Unsure if she stumbled upon something she shouldn’t have or if she simply happened upon some gunslingers too eager on the trigger. Regardless her instinct was enough to make her not turn back and find out. She was unsure of how long she’d been running, but at this point, she thought, she was sure to have lost them.

D spent her whole life learning to survive in the desert, the easiest place a vagabond can slip away if they so ever have the need. She had no home to speak of, but she quickly learned the tricks of a thief, such as ways to conceal oneself amongst crowds, and not to seem out of place while stealing one’s needs, or desires. As such, D would be in and out of towns. She may appear one day, scrounge what she could, and be out of sight the next. Avoiding the chance of the local law being tipped of the existence of a thieving vagrant in their midst. Since she could walk and talk, she’d done this to survive, at any cost. Surviving and scavenging was all she knew. All she knows now though, is the Sun is quickly rising upon the horizon, it was going to be very hot very soon, and she spotted shelter.

The small building, dilapidated and half swallowed by the dunes, was unsuspecting enough. D managed to kick her way inside without toppling the aged wood responsible for sheltering her, which was a win.

She quickly slung her cloak off and tossed it to the side, nudging her goggles onto her brow. She didn’t realize just how out of breath she was, she slid down against the nearest wall to catch her breath for a minute. It wasn’t long before her eyes began darting around to her surroundings, a scavenger’s curious eye for pickings in tandem with the need to catch her bearings for the coming day. She still had some rations from her time in Witherwood, albeit rot had begun to set in. No big deal, she was no stranger to it, but she needed more food soon. She was doubtful this shriveled shack would have anything, but maybe whoever left this place behind left a can or two of something. She was hopeful, at least.

As her brain stopped focusing on her breathing and her other senses returned, the musty smell of wood rot nearly took out the breath she had just regained, rot wasn't too common in the desert, as rain seldom fell. Regardless, she covered her face with the cloth around her neck and started looking around. The building was not too large, but there was a lot more to the inside as she initially thought, sand had not fully penetrated what remained, save for the few spots it managed to sprinkle its way inside. Despite the building being submerged in sand, she was able to stand straight up. In doing so, however, she learned the building was tilting on its axis, the furthest wall was at quite a decline, and it wrapped around a corner, but that was shrouded in darkness.

From where she stood, there were cabinets and drawers. She eagerly leapt in hastily swinging open the cabinets and pulling the drawers from their hinges. Nothing, nothing, nothing, and nothing. Defeated, her head dropped, there had been nothing to take save for some old wood for fire, if the rot would even take to burning. Some time passed; she was slumped against the wall with the row of empty cabinets, she took one last bite of a half-rotted apple she had stolen. She started to make her way towards the hole she made to enter. Without trying, though, her body stopped, she looked again at the darkened proceeds beyond the corner of the far wall, something about it was calling to her, and, if just for a moment, she swore she saw a bright flash of yellow as if the sun had burst through the dark for just a second. It was impossible, she thought. Every thought and instinct she had was to turn away and leave, but her body was telling her to move towards it.

Accept the dark and you will uncover light... The world, entangled in lies, will it accept truth? These thoughts were not hers, and they were oh, so loud, beckoning her closer and closer. Her legs, as if she were a marionette, were moving on their own, they felt heavy, almost unbearably so. She was kneeling now, the room had gotten steeper somehow, as if her being there was enough to tip the house, the corner was inches away, the thoughts, almost desperate cries now, were ringing in her ears. A veil of countless lives... Locked in time, everlasting, unchanging... Will... You... Question? D winced, her skin felt as if it were burning, her chest felt as if she were pinned, her whole body felt as if it were vibrating intensely. She had no choice but to watch as her body turned the corner, the thoughts, as if a hundred voices in union; SEEK TRUTH. Just then, her vision became overwhelmed with the now almost searing yellow light. Suddenly, she regained control, the light was gone, and her body collapsed under the freedom it once had.

It took her a minute to regain control, as she did, she peered into a dark room, she knew it was risky in old buildings like this, but she took a match and lit it. She was standing inches from a pool of murky water, a strange sight in the desert but after what just happened, she didn’t question it, she was still breathing heavily and quite confused, but she now knows the source of the rot. The insufferable smell of mold and the darkness was enough to make her want to turn back. But whatever that had been, she felt she needed to figure it out. In front of her was a glint of metal, as she brought the match closer it was a wooden lockbox, the corners of which were ornate with metal. She saw nothing else in the room that had not already been thoroughly devoured by the water. She needed to pull it out of here, but the dark was intense, she struck another match and put it between her front teeth, it slightly burned her nose, but it was enough to get it out and into the first room she entered.

She anxiously pried the box open, if this was the cause of what happened, she wasn’t sure if she wanted more of it. Her body kept telling her to open it though. The box held three items, a rusted revolver, a knife wrapped carefully in leather, and a book in pristine condition, The building owners' items before leaving, or biting it, she assumed. The gun was in disrepair, a shame because it would be of good help if she ever needed it. She fastened the knife to her beltline and looked over at the book. She couldn’t read very well, what little she did know was from her only real friend Verrill, but she loved stories. She grabbed the book and flipped through the pages with the notion that Verrill could help her read it when she saw him again. But there was nothing on the pages, every page she passed was blank. She pouted and tossed the book over her shoulder.

She was stumped, there was no clear reason for what happened to her. I really got to stop eating rotten food, she thought. As she was gearing to retrieve her cloak from the ground, she saw something in her peripheral; yellow mist. She snapped her head around at the book laid ajar on the ground, bright yellow lettering seemed to flood the page. She leapt towards the book and picked it up, in doing so, the letters spilling across the pages, rapidly changing. She attempted to fix her sight on the page and began to sit down in hopes of figuring out something...BANG, a shot rang out in the distance, then another, and another.

Shit, did they find me? How? She thought; No, the shots are too far, and there's no way they could have tracked me on foot through the sand unless they were right behind me. She knew one thing though, she had to leave before they got any closer, she's not dumb enough to get into a gun fight. Especially not with just a knife. She stored the book in her satchel, grabbed her belongings, fixed her goggles on her eyes and fashioned her cloak into a shawl, before slipping out of the building,

The sun was in full effect now, from the looks of it, near noon, how long have I been there? She wondered, and took a quick glance back at the building, nothing was visible save for the hole she had made, it was sinking. Shots continued to fire in the distance, and she thought of running the opposite way. Her body, though, had other ideas. Against her will again, and much to her frustration, her body moved towards the gunfight.

Her legs moved on their own for some time and gave way to freedom as she reached the summit of the dunes, she saw the source of the gunfire, a person dressed oddly fancy for the desert pinned behind a carriage, a barn, and two apparent gunslingers firing back and forth. This was not her fight, but the words echoed in her head again; SEEK TRUTH.

D slipped down a pit in the dunes and close to the barn. She felt she needed to help the fancy man, so she slipped off her old knife which was too dull to use anymore, and she threw it towards the barn near the 2 gunslingers, yelling “HEY!” before crouching out of sight, which seemed enough to distract the men, two shots rang out, two bodies hit the floor. The fancy man holstered his gun and started making his way hesitantly towards D.

Whoever he was, he was clearly apt with a gun. She sprang up and raised her hands in the air showing no weapons, the fancy man came closer, taking his hands away from his gun, The bowler hat on his head laid atop long slickened black hair which spilled out like waterfalls on either side of his neck, he looked to have some age on him, there was wispy grey hairs on both sides of his head, his face was clean shaven, He was androgynous, D could believe they were either sex, not that it mattered to her much; She had met all types of people amongst vagrants and wanderers. He was sporting a sand peppered white suit shirt, under grey vest and grey slacks, “I won’t kill you, just keep your hands up for now and come over here” The voice was equally in between, but it wasn’t the time to question that. She started walking towards the fancy man, “toss the knife to the ground and hand over your bag” he said. Great, I help someone against my will and where does it get me? Robbed. She thought, as she complied.

The person took her bag and started rummaging through it, taking a quick look at every object and tossing it on the ground “Really? Is this all you have for food?” they asked. She replied, “If food is what you want, ask!” She replied, the person ignored her, shaking their head. Suddenly, their face turned pale; a grave expression now painted them.

They were holding the book D had taken from the house earlier. “Sit.” he said, “you can put your arms down.” D did as they said, up-close now and the person before them was no more discernable than they had been. Their face was rather round, and they had high cheek bones that pushed outwards from slightly sunken eyes. The person stared at the book for some time, D didn’t know if she should speak up or not. “Can I have my bag ba-” “Where did you get this?” they snapped. D answered meekly “Old house in a dune back that way” she said, pointing behind her. “Dunes? No, that’s not right” he said, looking pensive “That your book?” D asked, Ignored again. “This was buried in Lake Nevorrie, in a house, yes but... that can only mean...”

Their face turned from pensive to excited, as they jumped up, their demeanor changed, now sticking their hand out invitingly “How rude of me! The names Coy Allard, what’s yours?” D, taken aback at the sudden change, she reluctantly shook Coy’s hand. She didn’t talk very much, she learned most of what she knew from Verrill, who himself was a quite well-spoken man, but a rather poor teacher. “I don’t know name, but I’m called D” “Dee?” Coy asked, following with “where did you get that from?” D answered by pointing towards the satchel now at Coy’s feet, which had a D engraved on the largest fold. “Ah, do you like it? ‘D’ I mean.” Coy asked. D just shrugged “Don’t pay attention to it much” she said. “Huh, we’ll put that aside for now.” Coy sat again, tossing the book to D. “What did you see?” they asked. “Huh?” D asked. “Did you see anything, hear anything... Read anything?” The memories of the events in the house earlier had started to resurface, despite her usually poor communication, she retold the best she could, the thoughts that hadn’t belonged to her, the blinding light, her lack of control and the dancing Symbols upon the page.

Coy removed their hat, sliding their hair back and sighing. “Well, that’s that. Fate sure is funny, I worked in the name of that book for ages after its original owner died ‘til I lost hope, I had sworn it was cursed, my goals were fruitless. I’m sure he spites me for it, but I didn’t want my life to be dictated by that book anymore. I guess, though, that book and I are tied by fate.” they laughed, “though, can’t say I didn’t miss the chase” they continued. “What is this? Am I cursed?” D held the book tight to her chest, if this book was cursed, maybe keeping it closed was the best Idea.

Coy snickered, “poor choice of words on my part, age must be catching up” They sat forward, pointing to the book, a grin stretching across their face. “You aren’t cursed, friend, not unless you lack wanderlust or fight. No, you’ve been chosen by the Augur, and what you have there, is the Diary of Dust. Have you read it?” D shook her head “Can’t” Coy put their hat back on, tilting their head slightly “The words won’t show up?” They asked. “They do, I can’t read, and the letters don't stay the same in this. My friend Verrill helps me read” she said. “That makes sense, the letters will only show to those blessed by Augur and will change to any language most understood by the reader. If you can’t read, they will rapidly change until you understand.” Coy responded, rubbing their chin “I guess I'll just have to teach you to read”. Not easy to trust, D jumped up defensively “No! Verrill will help!” she said sternly. Coy responded “We can’t just bring along any random guy! You don’t understand, the Augur chose you, you’re a target now. Which means others around you are in danger too.” She clenched her fists, “I’m used to danger! My whole life is dangerous, Verrill is my friend!” Coy took a deep breath, putting both their hands up in front of them in surrender. “Look, I don’t want to fight you, we just met, you don’t trust me. If you need Verrill we will seek his help, but you need to understand, we need to be quick, we can figure it out as we go” they said, pointing at their carriage. D unclenched her fists and nodded hesitantly, Coy handed her satchel to her and she picked up her knife, she put the book into the satchel, as they both topped the carriage.

It was a long ride with few words spoken, they spoke of location and plan, but no words beyond that. Their goals were the outskirts of Verronas where Verrill sets up cart, he was a snake oil salesman, his trade was dealing in false hope, but the people of Verronas were aware, they’ve long since ran him out of town, everyone knew his products were junk, and his prices too high. It was rare someone was desperate enough to turn to him, and when he sensed a dying man, he’d spin a great comforting story surrounding his product, to ease the customer's mind in his last days, he almost always refuses to take their money He was an interesting man, but not a bad one. The snake oil was a front for his true passion, he loved books, and always had a story to tell. Growing up Verrill was the closest thing D had to a father figure, they’d spent years together running around the wastes, getting kicked out of towns and always getting into mischief. Verrill was her best friend, her only friend. He’d tell tales of his years as a student in the great library of Umbrias far to the east, or his time as a sand raider ruling the dunes, becoming feared and mighty, or his time as a Sherriff’s deputy that took out the infamous Copper-king Lucci Hall. She knew deep down they were tall tales, but she loved them. She had a lot of time to learn from him how to read but her mind was always on other things, and he always said that he hated to see her pout.

As they neared the city of Verronas they reviewed the plan again, it was to stop by Verrill's cart, asking if he would come with them, or at least say goodbye as their goal would have them travelling, likely to not return. D was used to traveling, but she always stayed within a set radius. After today she’d be leaving it for the first time, which was both exciting and daunting for her. Her emotions were lying between the two, a bittersweet symphony for her last days in the wastes, she just hoped it wouldn’t be the last she’d see of Verrill, he was important to her, regardless of time apart.

Time passed as the rumbling hooves shook the carriage. Coy and D were nearing their goal, they rode up 20 paces away from Verrill's cart, as to make a quick exit once they’re done. Coy stayed on the cart to get going as soon as they could. D quickly grabbed her satchel and eagerly jumped to the ground off the carriage and ran to the cart. She saw Verrill behind his counter, but something was off. Verrill was a burly, olive-skinned man with curly black hair and a beard that rode his waist. He almost always wore thick pin-striped pants and suspenders with no shirt. He was almost always in good spirits and wore a smile more often than not. Though that smile was now a bleak grimace.

She always had a way of cheering him up, so she ran up to the cart. “Verrill! I found a cool book, this guy I met said it’s important. We have to go real soon, I thought you’d be able to help and ride with us.” Verrill slammed a book on his counter and fixed his sights to the distance, “No, I don’t want you here, you need to leave.” he said sternly. “B-but you always love talking with me, what did I do? Can I come in?” she stammered. Verrill’s eyes widened, he left his cart to meet her face to face, narrowly slipping out of the door as to not show the contents. “You need to leave D. You’re nothing but trouble! If you don’t leave, I'll make you leave.” Verrill boomed. D began to cry and started punching Verrill in the chest repeatedly. Begging him to change his mind or explain, he did not. With eyes full of tears, she looked up at Verrill, he looked pained, his expression began to distort, his façade was gone, giving way to a face now wet with tears and full of sorrow. He mouthed to her "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry. He wrapped his arms around her tight for just a second, releasing what he was really feeling

D, stunned, saw Coy running towards them in her peripheral, Verrill quickly turned and grabbed the book he slammed on his desk a minute before and shoved it to her chest, moving her back a step. She glanced at the book before looking back at Verrill. He was sobbing now, and he began opening his mouth once more, releasing a bellowing “RUN!”

Before she could react; the breath was taken from her lungs, she cried out to no avail. As she was tackled to the ground, A pain like she never felt; A shot rang out, Verrill was dead. D’s vision flashed, then faded to black.

#writers on tumblr #writing #writer #writers and poets #writers #writeblr #writerscommunity #TheBalladofLongDeadYuli #TBoLDY

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peakyswritings · 3 months ago

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Hi Reb <3 Hope you're having a lovely Sunday! 🌞

I'm always amazed at how quickly you create new scenarios for Nina, and your moodboards are stunning. I’m currently in the process of creating a new OC to introduce into the PB universe, but I'm feeling a bit hesitant. I’m curious—what’s your process like when you create a timeline or outline for your stories? Only if you’re comfortable sharing, of course—no pressure!

Thank you so much for your kind words Ari, and for reaching out to me🥹🤍 it makes me so happy. And of course I’m happy to share what works for me!

Everything kind of happens naturally.

Nina popped into my mind very casually over a year ago, and I immediately started to think about how her storyline could develop - just for fun. Then one of the first things I started doing was asking myself questions about her. All kinds of questions: what her character would be like, her positive traits, her negative traits, what moves her, how she reacts to her feelings (does she embrace them? Does she push them away?), what she believes in, what’s important to her, what she thinks of the world she lives in. Another thing that really helped me were those OC asks. You don’t need people to send them to you if the character’s not “real” yet, you can read them and answer them by yourself - it’s what I did at first. You’ll be amazed by how you never stop learning about your OC. And it also helps you see them from other perspectives.

Once I had her more or less figured out, I started to think about how she, as a person, would behave in the environment I chose to put her in. Like I tried to imagine her as a real person, and fantasise about how, considering what she’s like, she’d react to the world around her.

And this is something I still do when making up scenarios for AUs. I ask myself: what would Nina do? How would she react to this? What makes sense to her original storyline and how can I incorporate it in the AU?

In my experience having your OC figured out is the key. Like once you “know” them and are able to imagine what they would do in certain situations, everything comes naturally, one thing after the other. It’s easier to put them in different situations and imagine how they’d behave.

As I said a few times, I already had Nina’s whole story in my mind before posting the first chapter. Originally I had only planned to write one part, made of 10 chapters (the “Italian” part, so to say, the one I’m still posting), but while I was writing it I already tried to imagine how Nina would fit into the canon universe. One thing happened after the other, and not only now the first part has more chapters than I had originally planned, but I also decided that the series would have multiple parts. Because once I “knew” Nina, I soon came up with a whole story that I already know how will end.

So everything came from one question: what would she do? Imagining her in action allowed me to develop each situation into something more. I guess this is what creates a storyline for me.

Also some fun tip: lots of songs and scrolling on Pinterest! They always give me cute ideas!

I hope this isn’t too messy🙈🤍 and please tag me when you post about your new OC! I’m so curious🤍

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bakerstreethound · 2 years ago

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I've been wanting to tell you this since yesterday afternoon.... 👌 I beg Tumblr doesn't eat my ask but, listen Dr. Stephen Strange, not the super sorcerer! , Just stephen with Taylor's song. You're losing me. He being a doctor and not noticing her heart is not beating the same for him

Hey! Your ask thankfully didn't get eaten! So, I'm not much of a Swiftie (plz don't eat me) but I did my best to incorporate the essence of the song into this story and it's written mostly from Stephen's pov. There's a lot of angst involved and little to no comfort.

One Half of a Broken Heart

Stephen comes to the realization that your feelings don't run as deep as his so he learns to cope and become a better person for himself.

All writings belong to me @bakerstreethound (Do NOT claim, repost, copy, or translate my works to other sites. I only publish here and on A03) Graphic by @firefly-graphics Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

We thought a cure would come through in time, now, I fear it won't

Remember lookin' at this room, we loved it 'cause of the light

Now, I just sit in the dark and wonder if it's time

******

The letter in his hands burns, evaporating in a plume of smoke and cinders. However hard he tried, the words on the page are seared into his skull, forever imprinted on his heart. How he wishes he could forget but there’s not a chance. He should have known this would happen, perhaps could have predicted it, but not so soon.

Looking back, he hasn't felt a pain in his chest surfacing this bad in many years. Perhaps he never should have struck up that conversation with you at the party at Karmar Taj Wong drug him to countless times, yet the conversations you had about your studies fascinated him, your willingness to put up with Wong and his antics as you calmly explained to him he reshelved the books incorrectly.

“He’s not so bad,” you told him as you sipped on your drink. “He starts to grow on you after a while.”

“Tell me about it,” Stephen huffed in response, a smile had begun to form. When was the last time he smiled? He couldn’t recall. You intrigued him, fascinated him became his rock and now this was all you left him?

Let me go, Stephen, I’m not what you’re looking for. We were never more than what happened last summer. I’m sorry it had to be this way. Remember me fondly as you can. Don’t worry about me, I’ll take care of myself. I wish you nothing but the best. You know I bled countless times for you, you need to let me go. I’m sorry it had to be this way. xxx.

But your shadow remained, haunting him bit by bit, even as he stared into the fireplace, watching the letter burn. Would he regret doing so?

You are nothing but a memory in his mind now, perhaps one of the better ones. He was a fool to think he could be enough for you. Yet, you rescued him in his darkest time, the unrequited love tugging him to you as a source of comfort. As with life people came and went.

Maybe the universe had bigger plans for him and he sighed, Cloaky settling on his shoulders with a flick of his finger. Cloaky still smelled faintly like you, almost an agonizing goodbye that you truly weren’t there with him anymore.

Cloaky’s collar reached up, caressing his cheek for a semblance of comfort, but only then did he realize the quiet tears slipping from his eyes. He slipped further and further, his heart burning at the realization crashing back to him. Was he so alone? For now, but he had Wong and a universe to care after.

He took a few breaths, gripping the sides of his armchair to steady himself as he gazed into the fireplace, the hot flames licking his cheek. He can’t find the strength to move.

How could he? You mattered so much to him and now in this time of sorrow, he knew it was a losing game all alone. You made your choice, he made his to love you from afar even if you didn’t choose him. You left your imprint on his heart and there he would carry you.

He thought he knew what he had until it was gone, yet with you it’s different. You mattered and he had taken everything for granted, your kindness, your forgiveness, your friendship.

The tears fell harder this time, throat stuck in a silent scream as he flung himself on his bed, curling up into a ball, letting the emotions fall. It hurt how he knew he wasn’t enough for you, giving you what you needed, but he could pull himself out of this mess, there was still hope for him. Now, it didn’t feel like it at the moment, but he wouldn't give up.

That’s the trap of falling for someone who doesn't feel the same watching them walk away or leave, carrying a shattered bit of your heart you can’t replace.

It was too late for him to say anything, but under the tears, under the comfort of Cloaky, he regained his strength day by day, week by week, even when he saw glimpses of you next to him, felt you whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

He knew it was nothing but a figment of his mind, some shattered piece of you following him, his guardian angel a reminder of what he lost encouraging him to find his future. For his heart didn’t beat for you any longer.

******

Stop, you're losing me

I can't find a pulse, my heart won't start anymore

******

#selcouthangel #stephen strange x reader #doctor strange x reader #stephen strange x female reader #doctor strange x female reader #doctor strange fanfiction #stephen strange fanfiction #stephen strange #doctor strange #benedict cumberbatch #mcu fanfiction #writing request

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albatrossisland · 8 months ago

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Can I ask about Ghosts?

Hi @laelior!

Answered here

But, below the cut is what I've written for this untitled story. It's not bad, just not sure the story is gonna go anywhere else.

She liked watching him.

There were times when she thought he might sense her, no, that's the wrong word, she told herself. He's too sensible, too logical to rely on something that ridiculous.

No, this was something more primal, a part of him buried in humanity's past, that wouldn't ignore a feeling because if you did, you might be dinner.

He would tense up as she stood behind him, close enough to breathe down his neck, if she had breath.

Which she didn't.

There were certain advantages to being incorporeal, she told herself, chuckling softly at the idea of a ghost laughing.

He tilted his head slightly at the sound, but then shook his head, not giving the sound another thought as he typed his summation.

The nameplate on his desk (Ben's desk) read John J. McCoy, but she quickly learned he preferred Jack. She'd heard of him, he was somewhat infamous around their office, but she'd never met him before …

She was on the ground, it hurt so much, her hand touched her shoulder and it came away hot and sticky, she was bleeding, bleeding …

She shook herself, pushing those memories away.

That was then, she was here, her was more interesting anyway.

His fingers started to slow, and he made no effort to suppress the yawn that escaped him. He looked at his notepad, his notes scribbled in nearly illegible writing, and rubbed his eyes as another yawn came out.

“An hour won't hurt,” he said out loud, kicking off his shoes and stretching out on the couch. He was asleep within a minute.

Claire watched him.

He snored lightly, and he looked younger as he dreamed.

After an hour, she thought about waking him up. She had experimented, she could manipulate some objects - knock over a cup, blow a pen off a desk, small annoyances were possible. She could wake him up if she wanted to.

But she didn't.

“Rest, Jack,” she whispered. She didn't need to, he couldn't really hear her, but just in case, she kept her voice low.

Instead, she began a new experiment.

She walked over to Jack's computer; Ben had resigned, taken all of his things with him while she watched, but his computer stayed here, passing over to Jack, a computer she'd sat at and typed on many, many times.

Her fingers hovered over the keys, his file still up, his summation nearly done.

She closed her eyes, letting the feel of the keyboard come back to her, she still knew all the keys, all the placements.

And she typed.

The words flowed, her words ended up on the screen, but she didn't look, didn't want to risk breaking the spell. Jack had the law right, but he needed an emotional beat, she gave it to him while he dreamed.

He slept through the night.

She could see the sun rise from his window; he kept clothes here, it wouldn't be too obvious that he'd slept here if he woke up soon.

If he woke up.

Claire concentrated on the cup of pencils on his desk, willing her spirit into knocking it over.

She was breathing heavily, her face felt sweaty even as she knew it wasn't possible for her to sweat anymore.

But eventually, the cup moved, the clatter as it hit the floor startled him awake.

#ghosts #law and order #snippet

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orphanheirs · 8 months ago

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I'm coming for Tristan for the Pride ask game:

3, 8, 11

And then for you!

18 and 20!

If you still have feeling in your fingers after all that typing, I'll never turn down a 21.

Omg thank you!! 🤩

3) How did your oc discover themself? Did something cause them to question, or did they always know?

Hmm I don't have a specific Moment in mind for him to realize he was different, at least not yet; I might come up with something. But I would say he knew from a very young age. He was enamored by the fashions his mother wore; her hair, her jewelry, the perfumes wafting off of her. Before he could even read fashion periodicals he pored over the fashion plates depicting the latest modes from Paris. When he was very young and perhaps didn't fully understand that these things were forbidden to him, he tried on his sister's dresses (he has a sister who's close in age to him), but when this was discovered by adults he very quickly learned that this was not acceptable behavior. Nevertheless, the yearning to participate in this presentation never left him, although he learned to be more secretive about it. He would wait till the others were out and sneak into his sisters' rooms and try their cosmetics, attempt to dress his own hair, etc. (having observed his sisters at their toilette extensively). He developed crushes on boys quite early on, as well--family friends, schoolmates of his brothers, servants. I don't know that he recognized the crushes as such early on, but I think by the time he's 12 he's made the connection that the feelings he's having are romantic in nature.

8) Have they had struggles with their identity, be it due to internal or external reasons?

Yeah. :( I'm setting my story in a historically accurate regency/late Georgian period, so culturally there's little to no outward acceptance of queer people. Any affinity he showed towards feminine things or attraction to boys in his home life got such a swift and harsh reaction from the adults around him that he understands this quite well despite his isolation from the greater world. He may have overheard adults gossiping in hushed tones about some person or other being exposed for "unnatural" behavior. He may have heard of such persons being sent to the pillory or even hung. Because of this, he unfortunately internalized that this is something that's "wrong" with him, and part of why he's "bad".

11) Is your oc open about their identity? Are they more lowkey or more blunt about it? Why or why not?

When he lived with his family, he was necessarily more clandestine about it, although he still engaged in eccentric gender nonconforming behaviors to whatever extent he could feasibly get away with. Once he's run away from home he takes full advantage of his new freedom and soon experiments with incorporating elements of feminine dress into his outfits, sometimes subtly, sometimes not so much. This is mostly done in situations where he's either by himself or in the company of non-humans. Eventually he wears full dresses /complete feminine outfits as well, and sometimes does so in public, simply going about his business as a girl. I'd say Tristan is lowkey open about it lol. He doesn't necessarily talk about it or acknowledge it, he kinda just does his thing. As I mentioned above, he thinks these behaviors are part and parcel of what makes him dark and twisted and evil and all the things he thinks he is (for other reasons as well). But he also thinks this is fundamentally who he is, and, since in other realms of life he strives to be utterly himself and fly in the face of convention, this aspect of himself is included in that. He leans into his strangeness in response to the rejection and fear he dealt with growing up. If he owns it and fulfills and exceeds the expectation for him to be "scary" or "weird" then the power is in his hands. In his diary he writes "I want to be the wickedest boy in the whole world!" and what wickeder thing can a boy do than not be a boy at all?

18) Do you prefer to give your ocs specific labels, or keep it unspecified? Why? If applicable, do you change their labels depending on circumstance?

I'm likely not giving Tristan a specific label in-story due to the time period. Our modern labels didn't exist at the time (or most of them at any rate), and the very concept of a person having a sexual or gender identity didn't even fully exist yet. The word "homosexual" hadn't even been coined yet (and wouldn't for another 50+ years). I'm pretty sure the behaviors a person engaged in had more emphasis, and the idea that these behaviors reflected a certain type of person was still developing. I'm not sure what Tristan would call himself if he was a modern character--only thing I'm sure of at this time is he's not cis. I'm just calling him queer for now. I think Tristan's still figuring it out himself over the course of the story, but if pressed he might call himself something like "part-woman" (part-girl as it were..).

20) Have your ocs helped you in self-discovery? How?

Well when I originally made Tristan up when I was 14 in the year of our lord 2007 I was a queer goth girl outcast terrified of anyone finding out I was secretly dating another girl so. I think I was subconsciously working through some things. Lol. Tristan's original incarnation was also unabashedly, defiantly himself, something I probably wished I could be. We liked a lot of the same things, still do. I grew up with him rolling around in my head and I like to think we influenced each other. Thinking of him now I feel such a strong affection because I see my younger self in him. I also think we're both similar flavors of feminine-in-a-queer-way.

21) Free ramble card wee

I guess I'll make a note about pronouns here..I'm using he/him for Tristan for now, as that's how he's referred to in-story in my writing so far. That may change as I develop more. Again, idk how he'd prefer things if he had the entire framework of modern labels at his disposal. I don't think he'd have a concept of they/them. It may be that by the end of the story he switches to she/her. We'll see. But yeah, in case you were wondering why I'm calling a not-boy character he/him..

#sorry im so long winded..still have feeling in my fingers amazingly #there's so much more i could say here but i wrote an essay as it is #ask #oc #writeblr #tristan #fun fact! 'half-woman' is what hans christian andersen called himself!

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purplebass · 1 year ago

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I can’t wait to see where V is going to go with the Threads series thought I seems like we are going to have to wait awhile until then since she is going to be working on other books. I does make you wonder though about all the Easter eggs in her writing though since I read in a interview that she has everything planned before she writes so she works backwards and knows how her stories end. I always knew Holland was her favorite so I’m excited to see how she continued to incorporate him and I know she said she’s extremely exited to write Kosika. She said we already met the new main character for book 2 but it was brief and I felt like Tes considered the main character of book one but won’t be going forward? I wonder if Ren is every going to be a main character in those series or the next… like the world feels rich enough that it could continue with the offspring :)

Anon, sorry for the delay but I've been a little on/off these days :( but I do appreciate your messages!!! I love discussing this series 🥺

I've just read V's monthly newsletter and it seems like she will go back to Threads #2 and #3 soon. I mean, she didn't say it openly but I thought she hinted that after she finished her last novel she might go back to works that are part of a series because it's easier to do. I also believe she plans ahead! I remember a story she posted in 2020 about Threads. She showed her progression board with post-its, and I think her favorite way to plan is know the beginning and the end and then plant the middle. So she knows how it starts, main events in the middle, and the end. It's a good way to know where you are going. So I think she definitely has a plan, she just needs to start writing. I don't know if she'd write the two books back to back, but I don't believe the #2 book will see the light until 2025 😭 it depends on her deadline with the editor. I think Threads #1 took about a year and half to be completed (between planning, writing, editing).

I think Holland will be consistent in the future. I read that she was sad when she knew she had to give him that ending in ACOL, so him being here is definitely a way for her to bring him back because she also missed him.🥹

I also thought Tes was a main character, and I think she will be important in the future. Ren might be a main character too. In a way, being a child, her pov would be fun to write because a child's pov could be highly unreliable XD so the reader might have a hard time figuring it out lol because she would see the world through innocent eyes. I believe V could surely pull it off because she knows how to write younger characters.

Another character that might be important in Threads #2 could be Nero, Tes' friend the bone magician. Nero might actually be a royal (maybe from the fourth or fifth family in line). He might not even know about it. He might've been abandoned as a child and had his memory erased after his family found out he was a bone magician. Bone magic is powerful but also forbidden. Maybe, if he is truly the son of royals, his family might've abandoned him because he couldn't be useful to them since bone magic is illegal. The royal family might've suspected of them, so decided to abandon the child before the royals would know he had bone magic. They might try to find him again because the Hand is stopping at nothing to dethrone Rhy. They would find a bone magician super useful for their goals, since this magic is not easy to counter-attack. We saw that even a strong magician like Alucard couldn't do much when Nero used his magic on him. He would surely be a powerful ally to have, if I were the Hand. It would also show good dynamics because Tes considers him her friend and she's sort of forced to be on the side of the royal family because she has their protection. Imagine her reaction when she learns who he is and with whom he allied. She had been resistant to ally with the Hand, finding out Nero is one of them could feel like betrayal, in a way.Also, the name... lol. Nero like the emperor. I thought he would be a fire magician when I heard his name.

#posta #adsom #tftop #ve schwab #threads of power #the fragile threads of power #shades of magic

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mykingdomforapen · 8 months ago

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if you still feel like answering the writing ask meme: 1, 11, 13, 18, 22, and 68? Hope you're doing well!

Hehehehe I love answering questions :))

Do you daydream a lot before you write, or go for it as soon as the ideas strike?

I love daydreaming about it first! It makes me excited about the story, and I also love rewatching the movies in my mind of blorbos and stories hehehe. I've had something of a beloved routine where I sort of imagine certain scenes as I'm about to fall asleep.

11. Do you write scenes in order, or do you jump around?

I almost always write scenes in order! There are many moments that I can only fully realise after going through the journey of the story as the characters do. Certain emotional arcs that I would have missed had I only went with Plan A, or motifs/parallels/foreshadowing that I didn't think of including until I'm in the moment. I will jump backwards, but never forwards.

13. Do you listen to music while you write? If yes, what have you been listening to recently?

YESSss I listen to music when I write, and very specific mood setting music. Whether it is thematically relevant, or its melody evokes emotions in me that fit the mood of the story even if the lyrics are not entirely relevant. I have certain songs that I associate to certain stories for sure.

For example, in spinning silk I listened to a lot of Kuchikamizake Trip during Chapter 6, when Cheng Xiaoshi falls through his different death scenes. For the finale, chapter 8, I was exclusively listening to Katawaredoki on loop, and I was sitting in the middle seat of a plane to Hong Kong and I had that song downloaded because I had no internet access. courage of stars wouldn't be what it has become were it not for Saturn by Sleeping at Last, naturally. But I also listened to Mercury by Sleeping at Last while writing chapter 12 and Repentance by Gable Price and Friends while writing chapter 13 & 14. And because these are about future chapters, I'll go ahead and say that they were for mood setting melodies, rather than because of their lyrics.

Right now, I'm playing with a new Link Click WIP. I'm listening to the Boy and the Heron OST by Joe Hisaishi on loop, mainly for its relevance :).

But in general? Sleeping At Last is THE band to listen to while writing. They have rescued me SO MUCH and they're beautiful. They have both lyrical songs and orchestral instrumentals, the perfect balance.

18. Do you enjoy research? Which fic of yours required the most research?

Because I love history, and I tend to write history-influenced fics, I do love research! I love aiming for accuracy in my stories, not to be pedantic about it but to make it feel as immersed into the setting as possible. One time, I was writing a fic that took place in Reading, England. A place that I've never been to, but because of looking things up and incorporating what I learned, a reader who actually was from Reading left me a comment saying how much they appreciated that, and it made me happy that those details could be meaningful to someone!

The fic I researched for the most....it could either be here be dragons (1917) or indeed, courage of stars. The difference is that here be dragons, which takes in WWII-era Reading, England, I did a lot of external research about the civilian experience of war, a day in the life of during that era, rationing, etc. as well as drawing from my uni background. It's weird calling courage of stars research when it was really me asking my family lots of questions, for purposes outside of fic, and I just happened to be able to incorporate what I learned into fic.

22. Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

It depends on the story! Fics that I knew very quickly what the title would be, in some cases even before I finished writing it, are: here be dragons, today is such a good day, (Ted Lasso), and Jacob and Esau say their goodbyes (Thor). Others I have to finish it until I can tell what they are meant to be because of a theme of the story that had grown as I wrote it, like finally (The Bear), irreplaceable (Falcon and the Winter Soldier), and priceless (Squid Game). I also LOVE quoting poems, Bible verses, songs, etc. that are relevant to the story: greater love has no one than this (Trigun Stampede) which is part of a Bible verse, therefore, dark past, (Ted Lasso) which is from one of my favorite Mary Oliver poems, the prison disappears (FatWS) which is from a letter written by Vincent van Gogh, and more fics drawing from a line from The Little Prince, A Separate Peace, and various Sleeping At Last songs. Those usually come to me upon after writing it.

68. Are there any fics that influenced you to write the way you do?

There are so many fic writers that I admire and wish to emulate, but end up never being able to. There are also fics that, especially when I was younger, left SUCH an impression on me that they inspired me to write an original novel (if I got a nickel for every time this happened, I would get two nickels, which is not much but it's weird it happened twice). Both those fics were not on Ao3 and are essentially impossible for me to find again, btw. One was a Durarara!! fic and another was a Thor and Loki fic. I'm definitely a Frankenstein's monster of many writers I admire, both fic writers and published writers.

I will say that Markus Zusak a la The Book Thief fame has definitely influenced the way I write metaphors and turns of phrases. Hands down, that man makes magic with words, it's insane.

Thank you so much for asking me questions!! I love to share my thoughts heeheehee.

From this ask meme!

#ask #sailboat-sparrow #writing

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acacia-may · 2 years ago

Text

Good Things Find Their Way Back (Wicked Way Exchange Fic 2023)

Story Summary: Violet Baudelaire knew better than probably anyone that some stories simply had no happy endings, and though it would be easy to believe that her own life and that of her siblings was one such story, a cloudy, quiet day at Briny Beach and an unexpected reunion has her questioning if perhaps they had a chance at a happy ending after all. Maybe, just maybe, no matter how much they had lost, good things could still find their way back to them in the end.

Fandom: A Series of Unfortunate Events

Genre: Friendship and Family Fluff, Quiglet Fluff, Tearful Reunions, and Much Deserved Warm and Fuzzies

Relationships: Baudelaire Siblings & Quagmire Siblings Friendship, The Baudelaire Siblings & Beatrice II, Quigley Quagmire/Violet Baudelaire Pairing [Quiglet]

Characters: Violet Baudelaire (POV Character), Klaus Baudelaire, Sunny Baudelaire, Beatrice Baudelaire II, Quigley Quagmire, Isadora Quagmire, and Duncan Quagmire.

Rating: G

Warnings: Very brief and generally vague mentions of the unfortunate events that had befallen the Baudelaires and Quagmires in the past. A short sequence of worry when Violet briefly loses sight of Little Bea in the fog. But really this is pretty much all fluff and happy reunions.

Word Count: 2057

Link to original posts on AO3. Please do not repost to another site.

Written for @junowritesstuff as part of the Wicked Way Exchange hosted by @asouefanworkevent

A/N: Hi Juno! I absolutely loved both of your prompts for the Wicked Way Exchange so I combined them into one story. I completely understand what you meant about how'd you give almost anything for a solid Baudelaires and Quagmires reunion. I absolutely feel the same way, and I really hope you will like what I've come up with for that. (I also loved your Quiglet fluff prompt so I tried to incorporate some of that into this story as well). Here's to much deserved happiness for the children! Cheers!!

Beatrice Baudelaire II giggled and laughed as Sunny chased her around the shallow waters of Briny Beach—splashing her short, sandy legs and the already damp skirt of her dress. Watching them play brought a certain, almost bittersweet ache to Violet’s chest. Sunny had rarely been given the chance to play, the chance to have these happy childhood experiences that they were determined to give Little Bea. Since returning to the City, Violet and Klaus had worked hard to give Little Bea as happy a life as they could manage, and a smile tugged at Violet’s mouth seeing her now, smiling and laughing like a normal toddler who had never experienced the kinds of misery, despair, and misfortune that had followed the Baudelaire siblings since they had learned of that terrible fire on a day quite like this one—cloudy, foggy, and overcast, spent together on an otherwise empty beach.

Klaus soon intervened in Sunny and Bea’s splash fight—his already patched-up suit getting appropriately soaked in the process. The girls laughed as Klaus sighed and wiped the dripping water off of his glasses, but a slight smile twitched in the corners of his mouth as he splashed Sunny right back and lifted a giggly Bea up on his shoulders. Violet had missed her younger brother’s smile and was glad to see he was learning to be happy again, slowly but surely. They all were, and Violet knew they had Beatrice to thank for that. Without her, as Klaus had once said, they would likely have given in to despair long ago. She saved them, and for that they wanted to give their littlest sister the world and did everything in their power to make sure she never experienced the kinds of hardships and tragedies they had.

As Klaus carried Bea over to show her some of the tide pools he had loved to watch as a young boy, a sopping Sunny came running over to excitedly to unload the picnic basket she had packed for lunch.

“Are you ready to eat?” she asked with a wide smile, and Violet shrugged.

“Whenever you are.”

Sunny laughed. “Well, I’m always up for eating.”

Nodding, Violet chuckled lightly and turned to help Sunny unpack the contents of the picnic basket—a delicious meal she had spent the morning preparing.

“Violet! Violet!” called Bea running across the beach with a somewhat weary Klaus following after her barefooted, with the damp legs of his pants rolled up over his ankles. “Klaus says you can skip rocks. Can you show me how?” Her eyes widened as she practically begged her. “Can you, please?”

Klaus sighed apologetically as Violet turned to him then back to Bea with a smile. “Alright.”

Violet reached out to take her tiny hand as she began tugging her along the beach. She turned back to her brother. “Help Sunny set up the picnic, please.” Klaus nodded and began unpacking the picnic basket.

Violet stopped on the waters’ edge with Bea and told her to start looking for smooth stones they could use for skipping rocks. Bea nodded excitedly as she began her collection—though like any young child she tended to get a bit distracted by seashells and hermit crabs.

“Ah!” she cried, and Violet startled—whipping around to face her. She sighed in relief when she discovered that she was okay. “My hat!” Bea continued before taking off and running across the beach after her tumbling sunhat which was being blown about by the wind into a thick patch of fog.

“Beatrice! Beatrice, come back!” exclaimed Violet taking off after her.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she lost sight of Little Beatrice in all the mist, but she took a few deep breaths as she heard her giggling and a kind voice asking, “Little Miss, have you lost your hat?”

Through the thick cloud of mist, Violet could see the hazy figure of a young man bending down to return Beatrice’s hat to her as she said, “Thank you” with a bit of a curtsy.

“You’re welcome. Now you should hold on to that hat while it’s so windy out.” Something about his good-natured chuckle was so familiar somehow that Violet’s legs seemed to move on their own propelling through the mist at rapid speed. The man must have seen the outline of Violet as well because he added politely, “And go back to your mother since she’s probably worried about you.”

Violet made it through a clearing of fog just as Bea laughed and explained, “That’s not my mother. That’s my big sister Violet.”

The figures of Little Beatrice and the young man suddenly began to come into focus as they both turned to look at her. Bea was giggling clutching her hat in both hands as the man rose to his full height. He was tall with dark hair and kind eyes which widened as soon as he saw her. Violet froze in her tracks unable to believe her eyes.

“Violet…” he repeated in a soft, gentle voice as she met his gaze. “That’s a beautiful name.”

Still, Violet couldn’t bring herself to believe it. It couldn’t be…

She blinked at him and at Bea in disbelief as Bea tugged on the sleeve of his sweater. “My name is Beatrice, but you can call me Bea. What’s your name?”

The young man turned back to Bea with a kind smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Bea. My name is Quigley—”

“Quagmire,” Violet interrupted unable to stop herself now that she had irrefutable evidence.

Quigley’s smile widened and there was such kindness, such tenderness in his eyes as he replied, “Hello Violet.”

Her feet began to move on their own, and she ran a few feet forward throwing her arms around Quigley’s shoulders with misty-eyes. She squeezed him tightly—afraid that if she loosened her grip for just a moment he would disappear once again in the fog.

Quigley, however, didn’t seem to mind, and she could hear the light, breathy laugh reverberating in his chest as he said, “I was beginning to think you had forgotten me.”

“Never. I just…” She pulled back to look at him. He was older now as she was, but she would recognize his thoughtful smile and gentle eyes anywhere. She sniffled. “I just can’t believe it’s you.”

Quigley nodded in agreement as he gently pressed his palm to her cheek. “I know. I’m having trouble believing the same thing.”

“I never thought I’d see you again.” Violet’s voice hitched—choking on the emotion of those words.

Quigley nodded understandingly, but his mouth twitched in the corners. “I was worried too, but I always wanted to believe that we’d find each other again.” He gently pushed a long piece of dark hair out of her face. “I like to think that good things always have a way of finding their way back to you in the end.” He paused and chuckled rubbing his hand across the back of his neck. “Though I’ll admit, I never expected to meet again on Briny Beach of all places. We’re not even supposed to be here. Hector has a cold so we were just trying to get out of the house to give him some peace and quiet, and we were mostly just driving around until Isadora suggested we stop at the beach for a while.”

Violet’s eyes widened and she gasped. “Isadora? Hector? We?” she began tripping over her words in incoherent disbelief. “You mean…?”

A bright beaming smile spread across Quigley’s face followed by a somewhat apologetic, concerned look of realization. “Oh right, um…”

Before he could finish that thought, however, another figure appeared in the mist calling, “Quigley? Quigley, where did you go?”

“Duncan,” Quigley called back excitedly. “You’ll never believe—”

It seemed Quigley did not need to finish that thought, however, as Duncan appeared in the clearing and stopped in his tracks exclaiming, “Violet?” He immediately dropped the basket he was holding and ran down the beach and hugged her tightly, calling almost immediately for his sister. “Isadora! Isadora, come quickly!”

“What’s going on? Is everything okay?” called a faraway voice as the figure of a young woman began to stumble through the mist. As soon as she reached the clearing however she practically squealed with excitement and joy as she flung her arms around Violet and her brother joining their hug.

Realizing, somewhat guiltily, that Violet herself hadn’t called for her siblings yet in the all the excitement, she turned her head to yell for Klaus and Sunny but found she didn’t have to as she watched the tiny figure of Little Beatrice dragging Klaus by the arm through the fog with Sunny in concerned pursuit.

“Come on. Come on. Violet’s acting strange…” said Bea.

Klaus chuckled lightly as he reassured her, “Okay. Okay. I’m coming.”

Duncan and Isadora Quagmire both perked up at the sound of Klaus’s voice and took off after him, calling his name. They practically collided into him and pulled him into a tight hug the minute he appeared in the clearing.

“What��? How…?” he stumbled in disbelief as his eyes began to grow misty. Even Sunny who Violet worried might not remember the Quagmires shrieked excitedly and ran up to hug Quigley.

Soon the entire group, save a rather confused Bea, was hugging and crying and laughing. After the long, painful, and arduous series of unfortunate events that had marred their lives, the Baudealires and the Quagmires could not describe their joy at having been reunited once again with their dear friends.

“What’s going on?” asked a perplexed Bea, and Klaus scooped her up in his arms with a bright smile.

“These are our friends, the Quagmires, we told you about,” he explained.

Isadora laughed. “You told her about us?”

“I hope it’s mostly good things,” quipped Quigley, and Violet’s smile widened.

“Only good things.”

They all laughed.

“Are they going to come to our picnic?” asked Bea curiously, and the Quagmire triplets looked amongst themselves.

“Well…I did kind of drop our dinner in all the excitement,” said Duncan with a sheepish chuckle as he scratched the nape of his neck. He tilted his head towards the Quagmire’s picnic basket which had been spilled on the sand and forgotten in all the excitement.

Quigley gave his brother a pat on the back. “I don’t know,” he teased good-naturedly with an affectionate smile. “I tend to like a little bit of sand with my sandwich.”

Sunny chuckled, but reassured everyone, “Don’t worry. You can join us. We have plenty of food.”

And so, I am happy to say, the reunited friends settled in for a lovely picnic together on Briny Beach. Though it felt like it had been a lifetime since they had last seen each other, they picked up as if they had never left off—talking, laughing, and catching up for hours as they ate the delicious meal Sunny had prepared for them. They shared a little about what they had been doing since they had been parted and about some of their many failed attempts to find each other again, but many questions were left unanswered. There would be a time and a place for them on a much less joyous occasion, Violet thought, or perhaps they simply didn’t matter anymore.

As the sun began to set that evening, Duncan, Klaus and Isadora finished up the sandcastle they had been building with Sunny and Little Bea, and Quigley took a seat next to Violet on the picnic blanket.

“This is a very lovely view,” he said with a smile gazing out over the water and the bright orange sun disappearing on the misty horizon.

A knowing smile twitched in Violet’s mouth.

Many things had been taken from the Baudelaire siblings: their home, their parents, many of their previous guardians, their privacy, their sense of safety and security, and their friends. But now, sitting on Briny Beach and watching the sunset through the mist with her head resting on Quigley’s shoulder, Violet Baudelaire felt for the first time in a long time that maybe Quigley was right. Maybe no matter how much they had lost, good things could still find their way back to them in the end.

“Very lovely indeed,” she replied though she wasn’t looking at the sunset.

#wicked way exchange #asoue #a series of unfortunate events #quiglet #violet baudelaire #quigley quagmire #sunny baudelaire #klaus baudelaire #duncan quagmire #isadora quagmire #thanks for reading!

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frangipanilove · 1 year ago

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“Red” Controls The Gates

I’ll never claim to be an expert on predicting what will happen in the narrative of the show. However, when it comes to predicting future symbolism, I’m starting to acquire a somewhat decent track record. I’ve previously explained how I correctly predicted a second Blue Heron painting years in advance (Noah's T-Shirt Theory), and just recently I’ve explained how I predicted a Blue Bird yellow school bus as well as the reference to a Crowned Victoria Pigeon (a nod to Rick’s Ford Crown Victoria Interceptor police car) to occur as symbolism in TWDU (here and here).

I can now add a new symbol to my list of correct predictions; a Jim Morrison of The Doors cameo, or rather one of his tombstone from Cimetiére du Père Lachaise in Paris.

Last year, after the series finale, I wrote a post about the “red” symbolism on the show (Red Is The Living Color). I’ve been tracking the “red” symbolism for years, and wrote about it as early as in 2018. Those old posts are super cringe and I’d rather die than link to them, but I’m mentioning them to illustrate how the symbolism has been here for years and years.

I always interpreted “red” as a reference to "resurrection", or “coming back” from the dead. And in 11x24 RIP, tptb pretty much confirmed that it was, by utilizing a song by the band Living Colour. If that’s not on-the-nose, I don’t know what is. Is red the color of dying? No, it’s the color of living, it’s the “Living Colour” (British spelling on the word "colour"). And where is the reference to red? It's on the actual record itself, it's red. Red Is The Living Color!

While working on the "Red Is The Living Color" post, I kept thinking about how perfect a reference to The Doors would have been. It’s not unheard of for tptb to incorporate references to music and pop culture, especially in relation to the “resurrection” symbolism around Beth. For instance, we saw that as early as back in season 3, when we heard Beth sing a Tom Waits song. We later saw her sing another Tom Waits song about how she wished she was a dog, which is Sirius symbolism galore. Sirius means “return” or in other words, “resurrection”.

So when writing about how the red symbolism often appears in combination with various representations of doors or gates, it made a lot of sense for a The Doors reference to occur at some point, especially when we learned that the Daryl Dixon spin-off were to take place in France and Paris. I knew Jim Morrison had died in Paris, and that his tombstone at the Cimetiére du Père Lachaise was a famous tourist attraction.

Fast forward to TWDDD 1x3. Daryl and Isabelle arrive in Angers. We remember from last episode, they had a bit of an argument on whether to go straight to Paris, or take the longer route through Angers. Isabelle insisted on going via Angers, because she had a contact there who supposedly had a radio (Sirius symbolism). Once they arrived however, it appeared their contact had gone mad and used the radio parts for his hobby project, an orchestra consisting exclusively of dead people. Daryl was unimpressed, and they soon left. The detour to Angers didn’t amount to much, which is peculiar given how much screen time it was given. And the crazy conductor insisted the music was still alive, even if those musicians looked pretty dead to me…

While it was a spectacular show with some truly incredible walkers, it didn’t move the story much further along. So why did tptb include this little dead-end (literally and metaphorically speaking) storyline in the episode? I believe it was to set the tone about “music” and whether it is “dead or alive”…

…because pretty much the next thing we saw was this:

In my post "Red Is The Living Color" from last year, I hypothesized that tptb use “gates” and “doors” as a metaphor for the liminal space "between the realms", where the characters can move from the “realm of the living” to the “death realm”, and sometimes back again. And we tend to see something of the color red nearby, because as I described in my post, red is the color of resurrection. When tptb utilize the "Red Controls The Gates" (RCTG) symbolism, it indicates that the veil between the realms is particularly thin. This is not necessarily a bad thing. In a show like TWD, people “come back” from the dead all the time. We’ve seen Rick “come back”, first in 1x1 Days Gone Bye, and more recently in 11x24 RIP. We saw Glenn “die” in 6x3 and “resurrect” a few episodes later. We’ve seen Madison from FTWD “die” and “resurrect”, and we know that Troy, who was left for dead in Mexico years ago, will return to the final half of FTWD season 8. The RCTG symbolism indicates that "resurrection" is not only possible, it is outright likely in some circumstances. This is why I was so excited about the record from 11x24 RIP. It was tptb telling us that red is the color of resurrection, Red Is The Living Colour!

And like I said, I remember thinking that a reference to The Doors would be absolutely perfect for this type of symbolism.

Et voilà!

After the spectacular though frustrating detour to Angers, the next thing we saw was…Jim Morrison’s tombstone, with a record and three red roses (three tree/trunk symbolism). If a tombstone doesn't represent the "gate" between the "realm of the living" and the "realm of the dead", I don't know what does.

And as we know, the "gates” between the realms goes both ways. People can move in and out through the gates, as we've seen with multiple characters.

(ETA: I also now realize there's a vase next to the record, so perhaps this applies...)

The gates between the realms appear to be wide open!

#bethyl #daryl dixon #beth greene #team delusional #team defiance #beth x daryl #the walking dead #twd #twddd #red controls the gates #record #one one recording studio #the doors #jim morrison

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jcmarchi · 2 months ago

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Turning adversity into opportunity

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/turning-adversity-into-opportunity/

Turning adversity into opportunity

Sujood Eldouma always knew she loved math; she just didn’t know how to use it for good in the world.

But after a personal and educational journey that took her from Sudan to Cairo to London, all while leveraging MIT Open Learning’s online educational resources, she finally knows the answer: data science.

An early love of data

Eldouma grew up in Omdurman, Sudan, with her parents and siblings. She always had an affinity for STEM subjects, and at the University of Khartoum she majored in electrical and electronic engineering with a focus in control and instrumentation engineering.

In her second year at university, Eldouma struggled with her first coding courses in C++ and C#, which are general-purpose programming languages. When a teaching assistant introduced Eldouma and her classmates to MIT OpenCourseWare for additional support, she promptly worked through OpenCourseWare’s C++ and C courses in tandem with her in-person classes. This began Eldouma’s ongoing connection with the open educational resources available through MIT Open Learning.

OpenCourseWare, part of MIT Open Learning, offers a free collection of materials from thousands of MIT courses, spanning the entire curriculum. To date, Eldouma has explored over 20 OpenCourseWare courses, and she says it is a resource she returns to regularly.

Play video

Sujood from Sudan: An Open Learner’s Story Video: MIT OpenCourseWare

“We started watching the videos and reading the materials, and it made our lives easier,” says Eldouma. “I took many OpenCourseWare courses in parallel with my classes throughout my undergrad, because we still did the same material. OpenCourseWare courses are structured differently and have different resources and textbooks, but at the end of the day it’s the same content.”

For her graduation thesis, Eldouma did a project on disaster response and management in complex contexts, because at the time, Sudan was suffering from heavy floods and the country had limited resources to respond.

“That’s when I realized I really love data, and I wanted to explore that more,” she says.

While Eldouma loves math, she always wanted to find ways to use it for good. Through the early exposure to data science and statistical methods at her university, she saw how data science leverages math for real-world impact.

After graduation, she took a job at the DAL Group, the largest Sudanese conglomerate, where she helped to incorporate data science and new technologies to automate processes within the company. When civil war erupted in Sudan in April 2023, life as Eldouma knew it was turned upside down, and her family was forced to make the difficult choice to relocate to Egypt.

Purpose in adversity

Soon after relocating to Egypt, Eldouma lost her job and found herself struggling to find purpose in the life circumstances she had been handed. Due to visa restrictions, challenges getting right-to-work permits, and a complicated employment market in Egypt, she was also unable to find a new job.

“I was sort of in a depressive episode, because of all that was happening,” she reflects. “It just hit me that I lost everything that I know, everything that I love. I’m in a new country. I need to start from scratch.”

Around this time, a friend who knew Eldouma was curious about data science sent her the link to apply to the MIT Emerging Talent Certificate in Data and Computer Science. With less than 24 hours before the application deadline, Eldouma hit “Submit.”

Finding community and joy through learning

Part of MIT Open Learning, MIT Emerging Talent at the MIT Jameel World Education Lab (J-WEL) develops global education programs that target the needs of talented individuals from challenging economic and social circumstances by equipping them with the knowledge and tools to advance their education and careers.

The Certificate in Computer and Data Science is a year-long online learning program that follows an agile continuous education model. It incorporates computer science and data analysis coursework from MITx, professional skill building, experiential learning, apprenticeship options, and opportunities for networking with MIT’s global community. The program is targeted toward refugees, migrants, and first-generation low-income students from historically marginalized backgrounds and underserved communities worldwide.

Although Eldouma had used data science in her role at the DAL Group, she was happy to have a proper introduction to the field and to find joy in learning again. She also found community, support, and inspiration from her classmates who were connected to each other not just by their academic pursuits, but by their shared life challenges. The cohort of 100 students stayed in close contact through the program, both for casual conversation and for group work.

“In the final step of the Emerging Talent program, learners apply their computer and data knowledge in an experiential learning opportunity,” says Megan Mitchell, associate director for Pathways for Talent and acting director of J-WEL. “The experiential learning opportunity takes the form of an internship, apprenticeship, or an independent or collaborative project, and allows students to apply their knowledge in real-world settings and build practical skills.”

Determined to apply her newly acquired knowledge in a meaningful way, Eldouma and fellow displaced Sudanese classmates designed a project to help solve a problem in their home country. The group identified access to education as a major problem facing Sudanese people, with schooling disrupted due to the conflict. Focusing on the higher education audience, the group partnered with community platform Nas Al Sudan to create a centralized database where students can search for scholarships and other opportunities to continue their education.

Eldouma completed the MIT Emerging Talent program in June 2024 with a clear vision to pursue a career in data science, and the confidence to achieve that goal. In fact, she had already taken the steps to get there: halfway through the certificate program, she applied and was accepted to the MITx MicroMasters program in Statistics and Data Science at Open Learning and the London School of Economics (LSE) Masters of Science in Data Science.

In January 2024, Eldouma started the MicroMasters program with 12 of her Emerging Talent peers. While the MIT Emerging Talent program is focused on undergraduate-level, introductory computer and data science material, the MicroMasters program in Statistics and Data Science is graduate-level learning. MicroMasters programs are a series of courses that provide deep learning in a specific career field, and learners that successfully earn the credential may receive academic credit to universities around the world. This makes the credential a pathway to over 50 master’s degree programs and other advanced degrees, including at MIT. Eldouma believes that her experience in the MicroMasters courses prepared her well for the expectations of the LSE program.

After finishing the MicroMasters and LSE programs, Eldouma aspires to a career using data science to better understand what is happening on the African continent from an economic and social point of view. She hopes to contribute to solutions to conflicts across the region. And, someday, she hopes to move back to Sudan.

“My family’s roots are there. I have memories there,” she says. “I miss walking in the street and the background noise is the same language that I am thinking in. I don’t think I will ever find that in any place like Sudan.”

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