#for once I have something resembling an outline for the story so that's nice

[drkineildwicks]

More BH6

Some good news about that Big Hero 6 AU fic I’m working on called The Glowing Tide—concept is it’s like a Waterworld/Sunkenland AU where 84% of the world is underwater and the titular glowing tide is responsible for merran (mermaids) and other assorted mutations (sponsored by Sycorax *bricked*).

Anywho, good news is, outside of edits Part I is done and I got a good head of steam done on Part II and Part III—writing energy has swung away from it again but if I can get either a year’s worth of updates or Part II done by next May I plan to start posting it then.  We’ll see....

In other news, merran-Obake and merran-Hiro, the latter of whom is more excited about this progress than the former—although if you ask Obake, that’s because shallow-water merran are more excitable on principle. *bricked*

Find it on eclipse here, as always please be kind and reblog, not repost, thank you! :D

Big Hero 6 © 2014 Disney

Done in Adobe Photoshop.

[nogacheloveka-blog]

The Bad Sanses somehow ended up in the Backrooms. №16

<-Switch to Russian ver.

next 17 ->

<- prev 15

This is the translation of the another post from Russian to English. I understand English, but it is very difficult for me to write in English, so I asked chat GPT to help me. I have corrected some parts, but there still may be mistakes.

The number of characters is becoming too much for one picture, so I think the title will now feature 2-4 images, just to fit them all.

I feel like my style has changed a bit. This applies to both the text and the drawings. I plan to keep changing it. For example, I would like to stop using black outlines, but I haven't found the right way to do it yet. Without it, the drawings don’t look as nice to me.

All the images below are generated by AI, so feel free to use them if you want.

I would appreciate any comments.

⬇️ The story of wandering through the Backrooms is below ⬇️

Meeting themselves turned out to be not as dangerous as the level descriptions warned. The first time, the duplicates certainly made them feel out of place, but each subsequent encounter became easier. They had a lot of time alone with themselves in this place.

These boring intersections of corridors showcased other versions of them and even allowed a glimpse into one of the possible futures. Encounters happened about once every couple of weeks or days, as long as the rules were not broken. And those rules were to take nothing from their clones and give them nothing. It's pretty simple.

Sometimes they encountered quite extravagant specimens: Dust with bunny ears; Killer with rainbow mushrooms on his face, which he got instead of Cross; Nightmare, resembling something like strawberry ice cream or Greasy Marshmallow; Error in glasses with bright pink threads; Horror, crawling on all fours like a dog, barely able to speak.

But such strange skeletons were rare. Mostly, they encountered neutral or even friendly groups who had arrived here through other levels or who knew nothing about the Backrooms at all. Horror, for example, met a partner for rather slow jokes due to their speaking style each time. Cross could share his concerns with another victim of the mushrooms. He received a couple of reassuring pieces of advice and was even able to see where it would ultimately lead.

When another Dust with butterflies appeared among the wanderers, they had to keep him away from their own Dust. The mixed-up insects from different swarms brought problems to both groups in the form of time jumps or attacks from distorted and rather aggressive versions of Sans. For this reason, they also couldn't exchange anything with each other besides words.

One day, they encountered another Killer. He had stumbled upon them alone and looked quite shocked when he saw them. According to him, he ended up here after separating from the others in his own group and was looking for a way to reunite with them. He asked to join their team to find his own.

It looked suspicious, to say the least. Nightmare initially didn't want to allow the creature of the level to follow them. But after some time of pondering, he realized that it could be beneficial in the future and agreed.

The emotions and intentions of this creature were clear to him, and it couldn't pull any surprises. At the same time, if they could safely get it out of there, it could be used to their advantage, as the level descriptions from people were clearly incomplete due to how quickly they go insane. Finally, Nightmare found it beneficial to have more intelligent beings on the team to avoid suffering from hunger.

This Killer was surprisingly obedient and compliant, not doing anything that their own reckless yet familiar and understandable Killer might have done. The soul form of this new Killer clearly indicated the reason for such behavior: he was consistently at his first stage. But that didn't mean he wasn't interested in creating something interesting.

One day, during a break, the group heard a loud BANG that echoed through the dull, empty corridors. Those two, from the junk they had in their pockets — Fire Salt and metal parts — had built… a gun. It was beyond comprehension. They charged it with magic and fired at the walls.

Error was n00ot thrilled with the new member and he wasn't hapрy with the variations of his own, especially those terrible ones. He felt his pedestal of d!sgust was wobbling as they were blatantly vying to be «Most Disgusting #1». (Shhh, it's okay.)

The only goо-od thing he took a-4-away from his encounters with them was that the glasses didn’t make him look disgusting. Maybe he felt disgusting in them, but he certainly didn’t look disgusting. (calm) The disgust from the glasses combined-D with the disgust of his vision, and together they created a not-disgusting advantage that allowed him to see his surroundings normally without excessive use of thre🕸️ads to feel out the space. Sometimes Eггor grew tired of hating himself and simply had to look for the positives.

It would have been wonderful if his distorted perception of things hadn’t taken away any clear goals he could set for himself.

A new Killer was far-г-R from as bad as he could have be-3en.

It was time to get out of this hole. Moreover, Error could already sense the area for moving on to the next level nearby.

Horror was glad that they had finally escaped from this strange level. He liked his own variations, but it became uncomfortable to see how everyone else reacted to their own reflections. They were clearly not very comfortable facing the truth about themselves.

If his own clones turned out to be roughly the same, for everyone else, the level seemed to take some character trait and crank it up to the maximum. So much so that they appeared to be someone else.

Horror, for example, liked the plush Dust in the form of a rabbit. And the sweet-smelling pink Nightmare with eyes made of transparent candy. There was nothing real about these things, except for some random coincidences with the originals.

That’s why the second real Killer surprised him greatly. He just knew that this wasn’t another clone or fake. Only if the level hadn’t warmed up enough to completely replace one of them. But judging by Nightmare’s and Error’s reactions, everything was... fine? They didn’t seem too worried, so Horror preferred to trust them.

The new level greeted them all with strange blue desert. They didn’t immediately understand what kind of place this was until the wind threw a handful of sand in their faces. The sand tasted like apples. Which meant it was edible. No, it was definitely edible!

Horror was so tired of the taste of almonds that the apple flavor on his tongue made him cry. It was divine!

Cross preferred to keep his distance from the two Killers. However, after their noisy stunt with a gun, it no longer seemed like a bad idea for him to keep a close watch on them.

The new level was definitely not safe. It wasn’t very large by itself and didn’t contain obvious dangers, except for the damn people who had built a base here. But suddenly, if they all were lucky enough not to run into anyone aggressive, they might be able to trade with the local merchant? Judging by snippets of articles on the forum, he wasn’t aggressive towards outsiders and could offer something interesting. Their inventory was packed to the brim with goods, and the chance to turn this useless cargo into something useful just appeared on the horizon.

They gave away everything that was necessary to sell to Horror, since even with a huge hole in his skull, he looked the most normal of them all and could pass for a human if he threw a hood over his head.

Meanwhile, Nightmare decided to survey the area. He lifted himself off the ground on his tentacles. Error, watching him, involuntarily turned his eyes to the sky. It wasn’t the stars of Outertale, but it was still nice. Quite cute, in fact. With his glasses on, he started to see little bluish sparkles on the slime covering Nightmare. Without his glasses, Error thought it was just a reflections. Had they always been there?

[sheepwithspecs]

F or Tune: Chapter 1 Preview

For #FirstDraftFall (one of the many answers to writers who do not want to participate in NaNo after seeing their pro-AI posts) I am working on an original story I've been wanting to write for years. I plan to release it as a serialized (weekly?) post once it's finished, and I wanted to share the first chapter with everyone. I'm open to CC and honest feedback, especially if this chapter piqued your interest in the rest! If not, what could be different? What is it missing? Reminder: it's still in the draft stage, so be kind!

Deirdre Forst was thirty-five years old to the day when she discovered a dryad in the family well.

On most days, the well was never high enough to see anything clearly, and certainly too deep to house something as flighty as a dryad. Dryads, impulsive little imps that they were, thrived best in the shallows. They loved nothing more than to lurk just beneath the water's surface, lying in wait for unsuspecting travelers. But the rains had been plentiful that spring, and this particular morning the water was close enough to the mouth of the well that Deirdre could see her features outlined in a perfect circle of fieldstone.

That was what gave her pause, when on any other day she might have dropped the wooden bucket and went about her business. For the most part, her reflection was normal enough: rounded cheeks, large ears, crooked nose, thin lips. Any discrepancies were subtle enough that, had she not been observant in nature, she might have overlooked it entirely. But her brown eyes were a pale blue, her white cap sat askew on her skull, and the corners of her mouth were quirked a little too high to be natural.

She leaned into the mouth of the well, squinting at her rippling reflection, and was instantly rewarded with a thorough drenching of icy water. She was left sputtering and choking, wiping fruitlessly at her face with sopping sleeves. The serene morning was broken at once by a grating, wooden sort of laughter. The dryad lifted its head from the water, shaking back tendrils of soggy hair to better view its victim.  

"You should have seen the look on your face!" It practically squealed with mirth, tail slapping the water's surface. Bare arms draped over the stone wall as it continued to cackle, delighted at its own juvenile prank. Like all dryads, it resembled the wood of its mother tree; it was all gnarled limbs and spindly fingers, each sporting an extra jointed knuckle. Its small breasts were two knots of wood on an oaken torso, piercing eyes lined with white whorls of lichen. There was no nose or lips to speak of, only a gaping maw filled with jagged brown teeth.

"Yes, yes. Very funny." The dryad stuck out its tongue, forked end flicking in the open air. It was hideous to look at, but Deirdre knew better than to be frightened. Lesser fae were childlike, silly creatures, too preoccupied with making mischief to be of any real danger. When it came to the fae, everyone knew the prettiest ones posed the highest risk. They were far more likely to go about stealing unwatched babes from the cradle… or souls from the corpse.

“You’ve had your fun,” she coughed, wiping her nose on the sodden shoulder of her kirtle. She fished around for the bucket at her feet, lifting with an expression that demanded obedience. “Now get out of my way, lest I give you a taste of your own medicine.” She shooed the dryad from the mouth of the well, keeping one eye on it as she attached the bucket to the winch and let it drop into the water. 

“You’re no fun at all!” The dryad slumped against the base of the well, plucking sullenly at the moss growing on the rough stones. “It was such a nice bit of fun, too. You might have at least pretended to laugh.”

“Some of us have work to do, you know.” Deirdre gently smacked aside its sinuous tail, shuddering at the texture of algae slime against her knuckles. “Off with you, now. With all these pools and puddles, you’ve no business in the wells of honest folk.”

“And where’s the fun in that? The lanes are too muddy for pilgrims, and you’re the only humans on this side of the forest.”

“Then you’ll have to go bother those on the other side,” she replied stoutly, beginning the laborious process of drawing the water back out of the well. Wasted breath, she scolded herself as she fought the winch. A dryad would no more stray from its mother tree than she would leave the clearing that housed her family’s cottage.

“They’re no fun, either. Most people don’t notice me until it’s too late,” the dryad preened. “I might’ve splashed the lot of them in the time it took me to trick you.”

“Is that so?” When no answer came, Deirdre glanced up to find herself being watched. The dryad’s eyes were large and wide-set, made for viewing things from beneath the water’s surface. It looked her over from head to toe and back again, tail flicking water onto the mossy earth. She held her tongue, knowing better than to ask what it was staring at. The chances of a straightforward answer were slim to none. Fae kept their own counsel, their thoughts strung together in ways that only served to befuddle mortal minds.

“I see!” it exclaimed at last. “You’re one of us, aren’t you?”

“Ought t’be,” Deirdre scoffed, swallowing back a trickle of unease. “I was raised in the forest all my life.”

“You know what I mean.” The dryad graced her with a revolting smile. “Tell me, forest child: where did your human parents discover you? Were you nestled in a hollow stump, or on a bed of willow leaves? Did you blossom from a fruit, or a flower? Or perhaps you’re nothing more than a changeling, masquerading in human skin?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Deny it if you like.” The dryad cocked its head, weedlike hair falling across its knobby shoulders. “But you are of the forest, same as I.”

“If I am,” Deirdre grunted, turning the crank by degrees, “I don’t know it, and I don’t care to know. I’m myself, and naught else.”

“Tell me true, forest child.” It tucked its long fingers beneath its chin, peering over the mouth of the well to watch the bucket rise slowly from the depths. “Have you ever considered finding your fortune?”

“My—!” Startled, Deirdre’s hands slipped on the crank. The rope whistled as it unwound itself once more, the bucket falling back into the water with a mighty splash. She fought the urge to let out any number of oaths, hands balled into fists at her side. “What kind of foolish question is that?!” she managed, the words hissing out one by one between clenched teeth.

“Is it foolish?” the dryad replied simply. “How strange… you barely flinch when I accuse you of being fae, yet tremble like a newborn fawn when I mention leaving the forest. Why should that be? You’re no dryad, nor unicorn, nor fairie. There’s nothing tying you to this place.”

“Do I look like a plucky youth to you?” she huffed, narrowing her eyes at the brazen creature. “I’m no maiden, nor am I an old crone with nothing better to do than wander up and down the lane. Of course I’ve no intention of finding my fortune! I’m content with my life, and know better than to leave it behind on a whim.”

“But what of your dear mortal parents? Do you not wish for their comfort?”

“If you must know, they’ve comfort enough to last several lifetimes.” Deirdre hurriedly turned the crank, lest she be somehow forced to exert herself a third time. “My brother found his fortune and was back home by the time he was two and twenty.”

And ought to have, she added smartly to herself, seeing as he was the eldest son of a poor woodcutter. His fortune was practically laid out for the taking.

“I think you should go, too.” The dryad ran its long fingers through its hair, the extra joint curling the ends. They fell to its wooden skin with a wet slap. “If you were to venture out into the world, you would certainly find fortune.”

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” she replied dryly, filling her vessel with fresh, clean water. “Now, off with you!” She swung the empty bucket at the dryad’s head, purposefully falling short of her mark. It flicked its tail at her, falling backwards over the stones and back down the well shaft. “You’d best be gone by the time I get back!” she called down after it, her stern voice echoing back at her. Its wooden giggle faded into silence, dry and crackling as old lumber when put to the flame.

Finding my fortune. Shaking her head, Deirdre shouldered the vessel and turned to make the dreaded uphill climb back to the cottage in the clearing. What a notion! Me, a woman grown! Adventures are for knight-hungry maidens and… woodcutter’s sons, she thought again, her mind on her brother.

For all her posturing, the dryad had been right about one thing: Deirdre wasa forest child. It was Timothy who had discovered her in the forest all those years ago, playing by himself while her parents cut wood in the timber. Perhaps something had befallen her birth parents on the road. Perhaps they were on a pilgrimage and had lost their way. Or perhaps they had simply left an unwanted child to the mercy of the fairies. Such things often happened, in the forest.

In any case, there was no trace of family to be had, and so they raised her as their own. And, in her opinion, she was all the better for it. The life of a woodcutter suited her far better than that of a pilgrim, or a noble lady, or a merchant’s daughter. Why would she ever want to leave?

If you were to venture out into the world….     

Had she been ten or fifteen years younger, she might have considered the dryad’s words a portent. To go into the world in search of fortune was one thing, but being certain of finding fortune was another. Many an adventurer would happily give their sword arm for that sort of luck. Yet here she was, throwing it away under the pretense of being too old.

“You’re not actually considering it, are you?” she mumbled to herself, struggling to climb the well-trodden footpath. The forest was her home, the only world she’d ever known. Even after Timothy’s triumphant return, she’d never cared to set foot beyond its leafy borders. He had been young, foolhardy, and resilient enough to face the dangers of the wider world head-on. Meanwhile, she was now older than her mother had been at the time of his leaving. To go running off in search of fortune was almost unthinkable.

And yet… if she was guaranteed success… would it not be foolish to ignore the call?

[wanderingcas]

Hi Sam! I've always loved your writing and your ability to craft such amazing stories which is something I've always struggled with. Could you maybe share your process on how you plot things out? Thank you so much!!!!!

oh wow!! i'm really honored and don't even know what to say!! i have to warn you i don't really have a set process it's just me making things up and then scrambling later down the pike but i do have some things i sometimes follow:

get the idea

write down a wishlist of what sounds fun to write within this idea (this list will quickly be whittled down to like one or two things as the story progresses but it's nice to write it all out)

tell the story to myself in free hand, as in just write it out as if you're telling the story to a friend and don't worry about structure or if you can't think of a certain plot point, this is where you can put gaps of "i don't know what happens here but it'll lead to this", that sort of thing

(big thing to mention that at this point, anything you write down for ideas will be dramatically changed later as the characters come forth, and that's ok, that means your story is telling itself to you rather than the other way around and that's a good thing imo. when you've reached that sweet spot you're good to go)

start thinking of characters, how they'd interact with this world you've created. and if you made the character first, think of how they'd effect plot going forward

once you have a starting point, even if it's just an inciting incident, THEN you can start to form a very bare bones outline, if that's your thing. if outlines break you out in hives DONT do it, just go back to your stream of consciousness writing and clean that up, so that it resembles more of a novel treatment (more info on what this is here, it's used in scriptwriting mostly but i think it works amazingly for writing a novel too)

and then just write the first opening scenes, or any scene, and see where it goes!

like i mentioned before your story is gonna drastically change, and that's ok. in the current story i'm writing, my ending COMPLETELY changed in the last 2 weeks, after writing this story and being sure of it for literally months, and while that's scary that's also okay. it means that your story is developing and telling itself

i hope that helps and lemme know if you want to go into any of it! i think it's important to note that the process of story writing can be so different for each person, depending on if you're a plotter or pantser or a combination of both and you just gotta see what works for you by trial and error and go from there. if someone else's advice doesn't feel right to you then don't put it on; go find another outfit that feels right for you!

[theleakypen]

Fic Writer Interview Game

Thank you for the tag (almost 2 years ago) @gusu-emilu!

I am tagging literally anybody who sees this and wants to play :D

name: Puck

fandoms: multifandom! although Untamed/MDZS continues to be my main

two-shots: I never understand this question but it looks like it means to rec your own two-chapter fics so here we go: Stories More Beautiful Than Answers (CQL, Mianmian gets to meet Jin Ling post-canon) and Rhûnlanders (I published it as a series of 2 separate fics, but it's basically 1 thing: Songxiao in Middle Earth - Xiao Xingchen is an Elf and Song Zichen is a Man, both from Rhûnland so they're still Asian)

most popular multi-chapter fic: Obviously Yunmeng In-Laws (my and @iamwestiec's CQL modern AU groupchat fic which had bafflingly runaway success) has to be the answer to this. But if we're only going by ones written solely by me, it's But, After All, I Am A Wen (incomplete Wen Qing canon divergence wherein she actually takes and uses the comb Jiang Cheng gave her to commit treason and save her family's lives)

actual worst part of writing: having the fucking brain space to fucking write, fuck. it's been really hard bc i have so many other obligations and they eat my brain so even if i have ideas i can't get them to turn into prose :(

how you choose your titles: in order of likelihood: first, quote from the fic itself; joint second place, something kinda descriptive of the fic or lines from a poem or song

do you outline? not generally. I did outline my multichapter Wen Qing fic bc it's so much more ambitious than anything else i've ever worked on and I occasionally do something resembling in an outline in the doc of my one shots when i know what happens in the sections but don't have the prose yet; it's usually, like, a series of bracketed statements.

ideas you probably won't get around to, but wouldn't it be nice? oh god so many lmao. i have an entire channel in my writing discord that is just these ideas. One idea I have is a Songxiao no eye transfer AU because BSSR doesn't open the mountain back up to XXC and how they have to deal with that. Also I have yet to write any Witcher fic but I've been playing Witcher 3 and I really wanna write a Vesemir POV fic that's 5+1 "5 times Geralt sent some random-ass stranger to Kaer Morhen and 1 time he came home" inspired by all the times in Witcher 3 when you can help someone and then be like "Oh yeah you'd be welcome at Kaer Morhen"

spicy tangential opinion: not that spicy but i wish more people would comment, especially on the smaller/less popular fics. i see your kudos! it makes me happy! but i'd love to know your thoughts if you have any!

callouts @ me: none of my self-callouts are writing-related, it's all just - clean your room, go the fuck to sleep, you're not a teenager any more and your body hurts less when you do basic life maintenance tasks. (honestly i'd probably also write better/more if i did basic life maintenance tasks so it counts lol)

best writing traits: Westie once said I'm good at making soft things hurt and I hold that compliment close to my heart <3

[kindaoptimisticsquirrel]

Why not: A CCS reread, Part 3

It's saturday and I cannot stop myself from reading more. Time to go on with Chapter 13!

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

Ch13:

I'm just now catching on the resemblance of Nadeshiko to Kotoki from X...

Batting Fujitaka with a stick because for heaven's sake you don't hit on your students, ESPECIALLY when they are still under 18. And not with these cheesy lines, too, sigh.

Oh Tomoyo, you're so dear to me <3 I met her first when I read Tsubasa Chronicles, because I read Cardcaptor Sakua later (I don't even know when the anime aired in Germany. Probably way before my time) It was nice seeing her here in the story where she originates and where her character can be more child and follow her hobbies (cause tsubasa is a bit darker in its theme)

Ch14:

Saving this for reference for when I might want to photoshop something stupid onto the newspaper

Loving the little "yikes" at the size of the bread :DD

Ch15:

I definitely forgot about this woman and that she and Touya had been..a thing? (Geez. I try not to think too much about the ages of the characters in CLAMP works)

You know what, I would have loved to get to know Shaoran's siblings!

Hihihihihi *giggling and kicking my feet*

Ch16:

Awww he's so cute when embarrassed

Sometimes it's a wonder how oblivious Yukito can be.

Ch18:

oooh I'm saving this for a drawing reference because I want to try to imitate this beautiful light effects! Gonna try with ink if I find time.

Ch19:

No, Fujitaka, when an adult man offers your 10 year old daughter some tea and biskuits and invites her to come over the other day, you don't just smile and tell her to go back. I'm shaking my head here very disappointedly. (I know it's a childrens' story so it isn't supposed to be taken that seriously, but if you try to look at it from an older perspective? Phew :D Some choices are really dubious.) (I'm only making fun of this, I'm still very much enjoying this manga. It's just interesting to see how different you can see things once you are NOT the target audience's age anymore) Oh yeah I forgot Fujitaka probably knows the man is Nadeshiko's grandfather, but my point still stands. Ch20:

I'm at the screen play now, and Yamazaki really is the perfect cast for that role hehe

Ch21:

You know I really like drawing style with the no hatching, and the light greytones. Normally we don't see shadows really so scenes like this with dark and light really stand out more. Also I think, this drawing style of the manga might look easy, because it's just outlines, and they are all the same line weight mostly...but I've seen other mangas trying to do it like this and I feel like they didn't pull it off this well. I'm wondering, if you don't really use grey tones to give your characters and objects depth, then at LEAST you gotta have a good feeling for shapes and panel arrangement and such to make it all work.

Good to see that the Light and Dark cards are just your average sweet lesbian couple. Good for them! *thumbs up*

Ch22:

I think I want a fic with Touya working at the most obscure places.

Touya: Bitch, don't be giving me love advice when you're the one who broke up. Sooo this is long enough for a post! Time to make a new one! :)

[tsarisfanfiction]

If I may. For Whumptober: No. 12 - IT’LL BE FUN, THEY SAID

Being made to watch. Gordon watching someone try to break Scott. Because I love the Military!Bros.

Escape: Chapter 3

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Angst Characters: Gordon, Scott

Once again someone in my inbox reading my mind! As soon as I saw this @whumptober-archive prompt I knew it was time to dust off Escape again, because this fits so nicely with the story's direction.

The prompts used today are torture and made to watch. Unsurprisingly, that means there's some torture in this chapter, so there's a warning for that, although it's not overly explicit.

<<<Chapter 2

Whatever Bastard had had in mind for Alan, it clearly hadn’t been bringing him along for the ride alongside Scott. Gordon wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing – it entirely depended on whether or not the intent had been to leave his little brother alive.

The brig he and Scott were thrown into was small, no room to swing a cat with both of them in it. A single bucket sat in one corner, its purpose clear, while something that could, very generously, be labelled a cot – more accurately a crate pallet with one, threadbare and near enough useless blanket – took up most of the remaining space. Gordon was certain that if they’d intended on capturing two Tracys, they’d have come up with slightly different accommodations for them, starting with separate cells.

Untying their hands clearly wasn’t a priority, either, and it was Gordon’s shoulder that took the brunt of the fall onto the solid, cool metal flooring. Beside him, Scott’s grunt of pain as he, too, was unable to break his fall, promised that his big brother was still conscious.

That was a single point of relief in the otherwise rather bleak and awful situation they’d ended up in.

The door slammed shut behind them, not far from Gordon’s trailing foot and even closer to Scott’s, plunging them into near-darkness. For several long moments all he could hear was the hum of familiar, aquanautical machinery and his brother’s slightly unsteady, pain-filled breathing.

Then Scott broke the silence.

“I told you to run,” he rasped, voice weaker than Gordon would have preferred. “You could have got away.”

He was right, at least in theory. In practice, Gordon wasn’t entirely sure he could have outrun their assailants after the swim, not with the lead of exhaustion weighting down his bones, much in the same way it was trying to do again, kept at bay only by the trail of his adrenaline rush. But there was one important factor that Scott was failing to consider.

“And abandon you?” he wheezed back, starting to shift around experimentally. Having his arms bound behind his back was not helpful in the slightest, but the major limitation was his own exhaustion.

“It would have been the smart choice,” Scott insisted, his voice sounding strained.

Gordon sighed and continued his attempts to move. His limbs felt like lead, and his head was heavier than it ought to be, too, but he was stubborn enough to keep pushing anyway. As his eyes slowly adjusted to the half-light, he could just about make out the outline of his brother, far too still for his liking, crumpled over the edge of the pallet.

“Well, I’m here now,” he said, managing to drag himself into something resembling a sitting position and pulling himself closer to Scott with trembling, exhausted legs. “No point focusing on the what-ifs.”

The noise his brother let out wasn’t reassuring, nor was the pained gasp that followed. Gordon was certain that his injuries must have been worsened by the over-the-shoulder carry and successive throw to the floor, and that didn’t bode well when he’d been pretty badly injured already.

“Scott,” he started, cursing the bound wrists keeping him from properly reaching and checking over his brother. “How-”

“Get on the bed and sleep,” his brother cut in, voice threaded with steel despite its frailty. “You need to rest. I’ll keep watch.” The final word broke into two syllables as Scott’s voice faltered.

“You’re worse off,” Gordon disagreed. “You need-”

“I know,” Scott rasped, still too much of a big brother to let him get a word in edgeways, apparently. “You just need sleep.”

“I can last a little longer,” Gordon insisted, even if the mere suggestion was seemingly enough to add weights to his eyelids. “You’re hurt bad, Scott.”

So much for protecting his brother.

“Precisely,” Scott agreed, nonsensically and throwing Gordon off of his mental train as it screeched to an abrupt halt. “Gordon, if a chance appears, one- one of us needs to be fit to take it.”

With his broken leg, there was already no chance that Scott would be able to get them out if the opportunity presented itself.

The argument made a frustrating amount of sense, even though Gordon’s heart rebelled furiously at the idea. His head, however, acquiesced reluctantly.

“Don’t let me sleep too long,” he demanded, dragging himself the final few inches across the floor until he was successfully in contact with his brother’s shaking, pain-wracked body.

“I’ll wake you if someone comes,” Scott promised. A heavy head shifted until it was resting against his stomach, and Gordon really wished one or both of them had their hands free. Maybe once he’d got some shut-eye and restored some energy he could try and do something about that, but for the moment it was all he could do to keep his eyes open.

“And when someone comes,” Scott continued after a moment, voice still faint and weak, “don’t draw attention to yourself.” When, not if. They both knew that they wouldn’t have the luxury of being left alone for long.

They also both knew what was going to happen once they did get visitors.

Gordon did not like Scott’s implications. “That’ll put you on their radar,” he yawned in complaint. “Scott-”

“I was their original target,” Scott croaked. The uneven breathing betrayed that Scott wasn’t overly enamoured with his own words, either. “They prepared for me. They’ll go for me first.”

He was probably right, but, “then we should throw them off.” Ruin their plans, not let them get their way. Not let them hurt Scott any more.

Scott chuckled humourlessly and his hands balled into fists behind his back. “One of us has to be able to move,” he repeated, and Gordon’s protests ground to a halt, because Scott was right, no matter how much he hated it.

No matter how much he wanted to stand in front of his brother, destroying anyone who even thought about hurting him. No matter that he’d promised he wouldn’t let them hurt Scott again.

The temptation to scream in frustration was strong, but considering their situation that would be a very bad idea, so Gordon swallowed it down and shifted so that Scott’s head was pressed more firmly against his abdomen.

First, no matter how much he loathed it, he needed sleep. The bone deep exhaustion from his desperate swim was etched into his core, and there was nothing he could do until his mind and body were sharp again.

The instant he relaxed his guard against the sandman, sleep struck, sucking him down into an inky blackness. Too exhausted to even dream, the next thing he knew there was a moving weight on his stomach and his name was being rasped by a weak, frail voice over and over again.

“-don. Gordon. Gordon.”

There was a hopeful thought that perhaps he’d dreamed the whole thing and that they were actually safe and sound at home, but it was regrettably dashed the moment he peeled open his eyes to see the same gloom, and the same crumpled body of his eldest brother.

Scott looked even worse than he remembered, face devoid of all colour and beads of sweat trickling down his skin. His eyes were half-lidded and dark like stormy skies. Gordon hadn’t even known they were capable of such a dramatic colour shift.

“I’m awake,” he promised, stifling a yawn and interrupting the mantra of his name. Scott fell silent, not even offering a sitrep, but as Gordon’s ears readjusted to their current surroundings, he realised he didn’t need one.

Footsteps, heavy and almost certainly the same military issue boots as Bastard had been wearing, echoed dully through their room.

Company was coming.

There was no point even entertaining the idea that they’d be after anything other than information. Information that neither of them could provide. Scott was so tense he was trembling against Gordon’s stomach, and Gordon wasn’t much better. Being trained for situations like this didn’t make them any less awful.

Knock, knock rang out mockingly against the door, before there was the sound of a bolt sliding and the slab of metal gradually moved out of the way, letting in light.

Gordon’s eyes reacted automatically, squinting shut against the visual assault as his retinas burned. The weight against his stomach moved sharply – too sharply to be his injured brother’s doing – and a grunt of pain reached his ears.

A moment later, the sound of something heavy hitting the ground echoed through the room, and Gordon forced his eyes open against the brightness, ignoring the moisture beading in them and blurring his vision, to see a tall shape standing illuminated by the source of the light.

There was no question that that was Bastard, even before the man leaned down and grabbed something by his feet, hauling it up.

It was Scott, a meaty fist in his hair as the rest of his body weight tried to drag him back down to the floor. His brother’s breathing was louder, rasping uncomfortably in a way that said his airways weren’t as unrestricted as they’d like to be.

Gordon’s instinct was to snipe at Bastard, dragging his attention away from Scott and protecting his weak, already injured big brother. He still didn’t know if his ribs were damaged, but something told him that by the time Bastard was done, they would be even if they weren’t already. Scott was in no condition to endure an interrogation, while Gordon was physically unharmed – barring a few scrapes and bruises – and refreshed enough after his nap to be mentally sharp again.

But then, that was the entire reason Scott had told him not to draw attention to himself. Unless the submarine resurfaced, it was going to be extremely difficult for their family to find and rescue them, and with Kayo the only combat-trained family member not currently in a brig, even then it would be messy. As well as being mostly physically and mentally sound, Gordon knew submarines.

If they were getting out of there, it was going to be down to him. In the long term, it was by far the best course of action to stay back and let Scott provide the distraction.

That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt to lay half on the uncomfortable pallet and stifle his reactions as Bastard stamped down on one of Scott’s already broken limbs – in the harsh lighting, Gordon couldn’t tell if it was his leg or wrist – and his brother let out a choked-off sound that cut deeper than a scream because Scott was so clearly trying to hide the pain.

It was failing miserably; Gordon knew Scott too well not to hear the agony in every short, sharp sound he let out. Bastard – an apt a nickname as Gordon had ever bestowed – kept his own voice deep and steady as he repeated questions again and again with seemingly endless patience.

There was a part of Gordon – a deep, vindictive part that he didn’t let see the light of day – that couldn’t wait to turn the tables on Bastard and put him in shackles while busting all his major bones. There was a larger part of him that was screaming that he should be protecting Scott, like he’d promised he would do.

Why did it always seem to end up with his big brother being the protector?

He clenched his teeth, keeping his breathing firmly even, as Scott failed to stifle a scream and his brother’s voice reverberated all through the brig. There was nothing he could do. Nothing that would do anything except make things worse.

Bastard was ignoring him completely, and he was somewhat insulted at that even though it worked in their – not favour, because there was nothing favourable about their position. Worked with their plan. Being underestimated was good. Underestimation meant sloppiness, carelessness. Mistakes.

The fastest way to break Scott would be to use him. Gordon hoped that idea didn’t occur to Bastard.

Another scream tore itself from Scott’s throat, high pitched and wrong, and he saw the shape of his brother go limp. He prayed it was the pain, and not the injuries, that had caused it.

“Is that it?” Bastard asked after a moment, a vicious kick rolling Scott’s limp body awkwardly over. His head caught the edge of the pallet, but he didn’t stir.

Cold blue eyes glittered in the lighting as they landed on Gordon, and he tensed.

“That was boring,” Bastard said conversationally, as though Scott wasn’t a broken rag doll at his feet. “You, on the other hand, look like you still have some life in you.” He took a step forwards, militia style boots carelessly resting their partial weight on his unconscious brother.

Gordon loathed him just a little bit more.

“What information do you have for me?” the asshole continued, still in the same conversational, faux-friendly tone. “It’s been a while since you were in service, but you must remember something useful.”

Go to hell, Gordon wanted to spit, but with Scott beneath the man’s boot he didn’t dare antagonise him.

“I’ll be back,” Bastard said, as though he could be any more cliché. “Next time, it’s your turn.”

He turned around and left, shutting the door being him and slamming the bolt home. Plunged back into near-darkness, Gordon could barely make out the shape of his brother. Relying on memory as much as sight, he dragged himself over until he could feel the warmth of his brother’s skin.

Scott was still breathing, at least. Moving him was entirely out of the question; after Bastard’s onslaught, there was no way of knowing if any of the broken fragments were in life-threatening locations, and if moving him would turn it from life-threatening to life-ending. Not until Gordon could find a way out of his cuffs and assess him properly.

With the threat of his own upcoming torture hanging over his head, Gordon was acutely aware that he was going to need to do that sooner rather than later. If he ended up in a similar condition, then they could kiss any chance of getting themselves out goodbye.

The most obvious route was dislocating a thumb, but that would then put him at an even greater disadvantage if things came to a fight. Considering his only chance of getting them out of there was subduing the entire crew, or at least gaining control of the control room and barring everyone else out, he was going to have to fight – and protect Scott at the same time.

Something as simple as a dislocated thumb could turn his odds from impossibly slim to plain impossible.

A choked-up noise, high enough to be classified as a whimper, brought his attention back to his brother.

“Hey, Scott,” he murmured, “you with me?”

The next noise could have been acknowledgement or completely unrelated. Gordon chose to hope it was the former. “You need to stay still, bro. That guy seriously did a number on you.”

“-don?” If he’d thought Scott’s voice was weak earlier, it was nothing compared to the fractured attempt at his name now.

“I’m here, Scott,” he promised. “I’m not hurt.” Yet.

“G’d.”

“Any thoughts on getting out of shackles without trashing my thumbs in the process?” he asked, more rhetorical than not; he seriously doubted that even Scott could be up for complex problem solving in his condition – or much of anything, really.

“P’kt,” came an unexpected and quick response, although Gordon’s powers of translation failed him on what it was supposed to be.

“Come again?”

Scott’s next breath was deep enough to rattle alarmingly. “P’k ‘t,” he sounded out, slowly and deliberately. “Ic’n.”

To Gordon’s alarm, his brother tried to move.

“Woah, no!” he protested, resting an elbow lightly on the nearest part of his brother and praying it wasn’t one of the areas Bastard had brutalised. “No moving, Scott.”

His brother let out a sound that was clearly frustration. “Uh… c’n… p’k… ‘t,” he repeated. “C’mrrr.” Scott’s fingers wriggled awkwardly, and comprehension dawned over Gordon.

“In your state?” he asked, vaguely incredulous, although he hauled himself upright and obediently moved until his bound hands were in reach of Scott’s.

“Nh’chsssss,” his brother slurred, a familiar tone of determination slipping into his words. He wasn’t wrong; they didn’t have a choice.

That didn’t mean Gordon liked the sounds of pain coming out in hisses from between his brother’s clenched fists as swollen and trembling fingers fumbled against his wrists for several minutes, sharp intakes of breath invading for variety. How Scott was even moving his fingers at all, he didn’t really want to contemplate.

It must have been nigh on ten minutes before a click echoed resoundingly through the brig and Gordon’s wrists fell apart. The cuff was still hooked around one of them, but he had independent use of his hands again, and that was all that mattered.

“Okay,” he said, pulling his hands out of Scott’s feeble reach. “That’s good enough, Scott. Now you.”

He plucked the thin strip of metal Scott had seemingly magicked out of nowhere from his brother’s bruised fingers and with a few jiggles in the lock, got him freed. The arms instantly slumped to Scott’s sides, and Gordon wasted no time in checking his brother over.

Scott couldn’t hold back the pained gasps that his investigation elicited, each one stabbing through Gordon as a reminder of the promise he’d broken. Twice. All he could do now was do everything in his power to get them both out without any further injury.

The already broken leg was now shattered. There would be no weight-bearing on that one at all now, and the other ankle wasn’t exactly intact, although in a worst-case scenario Scott could potentially stand on it for a few heartbeats. Both wrists were also broken, as well as his hands and fingers. How he’d picked a lock, Gordon honestly had no idea.

The good news was that his ribs hadn’t taken any more obvious damage, although now that Gordon had an opportunity to investigate them at last, there were several cracked ribs that he would need to be cautious of while carrying his brother around. Pain, for all that was a woefully inadequate word to describe what Scott had to be feeling, was the main cause of his breathlessness and inability to talk.

It could have been so much worse.

Gordon clung to that observation as he determined that Scott was safe to move and gently picked up his brother, settling him on the pallet as far from the door as he could manage.

“Your turn to rest, Scotty,” he told him quietly, placing a light hand over his brother’s mouth when he looked like he was going to protest. “You bought me the time to get back in the game. I’m getting us out of here now.”

And he wasn’t breaking that promise a third time. This time, they really wouldn’t hurt his brother again.

[ruthoakenshield]

Very Good Friends (Chapter 21)

Catch up here: [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8]  [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10]  [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13]  [Chapter 14]  [Chapter 15]  [Chapter 16] [Chapter 17] [Chapter 18] [Chapter 19] [Chapter 20]

Reader x Henry Cavill, OC Reader x co-star named Dan

Warning: This tale is for 18+ readers ONLY!!!    Mentions of flashbacks: (rape, anal sex, non-con sex, abuse), severe bruising and injury, mentions of suicidal thoughts, depression, humiliation, and some of the good kind of fluff to make us feel better.

Smut (the happy good kind) is here as I promised. In all it’s fluffy, juicy, tantalizing goodness!!! :)  :)  :)

If  ANY of the warnings upset you or make you uncomfortable, DO NOT  read   below the cut! go find something else to read in this case and if you want to be removed from the taglist for this story, let me know. I   won’t be upset, I promise!

If you are okay with reading those things then enjoy the tale below the cut.

Feedback and reblogs are appreciated. I do not own Henry nor do I have any personal knowledge of him besides what is common knowledge amongst the Cavillary. Any mistakes and typos are mine, story is not beta-tested.

GIF I got from the tumbler search thingy.

After Henry returns with a massive amount of food, everyone eats their fill and Henry grabs his computer and works on getting things squared away for the vacation. He makes flight accommodations for you just in case you decide to join him. He is happily working on the computer when the girls tell him he needs to head to his room now. He looks up to see your makeup and hair are done and your nails are painted in a tantalizing dark green with blue flecks.

He raises his eyebrow and looks at the time. His eyes get huge realizing he has about an hour before he needs to be leaving with you. “Well, I guess time flies when you’re having fun! You ladies shined her up right nice. You look lovely already, y/n!” he tells you. With a smirk he packs up his computer and power cord, then heads into the bedroom and the girls close the adjoining doors for the rooms. They are giggling and chattering away as they get you into your gown and jewelry.

It was a pretty, narrow bib necklace with a narrow band to the left and right outlined by tiny, round sapphires, with a garland of blue leaf-shaped sapphires at the center of each band. Joining the two bands, at the center is a large, oval sapphire, and below it sits a cluster of various shaped sapphires forming a point. The earrings were dangly, small sapphires that hung in clusters and reminded you of blue grapes. A tikka was also included that the girls hung from a center part in your hair anchored at the far end with hair pins, and they glued it to your forehead at the other end, with eyelash adhesive so it didn’t go bouncing around. You grin seeing how pretty you look once it’s all on.

Henry hurries and gets into his black tux and puts in his handkerchief in the top pocket, then puts on his cravat. (He discovered he likes them better than the noose-like ties). And puts on his cufflinks and socks and shoes. He is looking at himself in the mirror working on his hair when he hears the door to your room open and a soft knock is heard from his side’s door. He walks over to it and opens the door. His eyes get huge, and he takes a little gasp when his baby blues settle on you in your gown and jewelry.

“Wow!” is all he is able to manage to get out as he stands there speechless. You look like a goddess of the evening seas! Your gown sparkles and glimmers a dark green color and the satin cobalt blue lining of your sleeves resemble water flowing down to your feet. You stand there with a hand on your hip and the opposite foot out slightly, posing for his perusal.

Grinning, you realize you have mesmerized him. He grins as you reach up to his face and push his jaw back closed. “Gonna start drooling if you don’t close that mouth of yours, Bear.” you tease.

Henry swallows hard. “W-w-where are the rest of the gals?” he manages to stutter, unable to take his eyes off of you. You giggle and tell him they left once they got you in the gown and jewelry.

He takes your hands and takes a step back to admire you. He turns you slowly, as if you were ballroom dancing with him as he brings you gracefully into his room and he whistles. “Damn! I’m gonna have to beat the men off of you with a stick tonight!” he growls.

You laugh and reach down to his pants. You have a pretty big club here if you need one.” you tease as you stroke his thick shaft. You feel that he’s going commando and grin. “Ahh, Commando Cavill strikes again!” you say cheekily, and he raises an eyebrow and smirks.

His hands land on your ass and he smirks when he doesn’t feel any elastic on you. “You going commando as well?” he queries.

You smirk. “Well, Bear, with a dress like this, you can’t exactly have panty lines showing, now can you?!?” you tease. “Now remember, you need to keep your mitts to my back, hip or arms. No petting or you’ll blow our cover. We don’t want them knowing we’re a couple yet.” you remind him.

He pouts but nods. His eyes following you and are practically undressing you already as you move about the room. You come back over to him and hand him his phone. “Come on, Big Bear, let’s get going.” you say to him. You head back into your room and make sure all the lights are off and that you have your key card, purse, and phone with you as well as the two sharpies your agent left for you on the desk. You pull the adjoining doors nearly closed and take Henry’s arm as he grabs his wallet, keycard, phone and his two sharpies, shoving them all in his jacket’s pockets.

The two of you make your way arm in arm down to the lobby and then out to the waiting limo. He helps you in and then climbs in as well. The two of you talk and hold hands while you make the short ride to the red carpet premiere. You both see the two limos in front of you stop and the directors and producers all get out of the first one and work their way up the red carpet, pausing for photographs and interviews.

The second limo pulls up and some of your other fellow actors from the film who were in supporting roles all climb out and do the same. Yours and Henry’s limo stops, and he looks at you, “Ready for your first Red Carpet?” he asks with a grin. You nod. He opens the door and there’s immediately a roar from the crowds and blinding flashes from cameras. He grins and waves, then turns and offers his hand to help you out.

Scooting out, you take a moment to straighten your gown and then you link arm with his, and he ushers you up the red carpet. The two of you plaster smiles to your faces and he can feel your arm trembling as you pause for photos and sign autographs with him for the waiting fans, then he ushers you to the three interview booths for quick interviews.

They are all polite and ask questions the two of you are able to answer, the inevitable questions about your costar who is jailed for raping you come up and you just say you have no comment on the matter, it’s in the past and you’re moving on with the help of friends and the great cast and crew of this film.

As you and Henry enter the cinema, he leans down and tells you that was a great answer to such a loaded question. You look up at him and smile. He pats your hand and gives it a squeeze. The two of you are shown into the huge theater and find your seats. You giggle as finger foods and bottles of water and other adult beverages are available for anyone who wants them. You get up and ask Henry if he’d like anything. He says, “Sure if you want to grab me a bottle of water and some grub, that’d be awesome.” you nod and as you walk away some co-stars come over and talk to him.

“DAMN, Henry! How did you get y/n to be your date for the Red Carpet?!? No wonder why Dan tried to bang her for months! Hot hot hot!!! They say as they check you out in the gown.

Henry frowns and growls. “That is not appropriate to be talking about her like that. Yes, she looks damn amazing in that dress, but what he did to her, devastated her, not to mention was illegal and he should have respected her wishes when she said, “NO” the first time!” he growls.

They look at him and apologize. “Sorry, Hen. It’s just that she’s so hot and how is it she is still single? How is it someone hasn’t snatched her up yet and made her theirs?” they ask.

Henry smirks. “Who’s to say someone hasn’t?” he asks. “It’s not our place to be snooping in the lives of others. If they wish to share who they are dating or other private such things, then they will. But if they wish to keep things quiet, then we should respect that.” he says. Richard comes up and agrees. “It’s not our place to pry into the personal lives of anyone, famous or not.” He adds.

They nod and as you turn to walk back. Rich and Henry watch with appreciative eyes, as you are stopped by some of the female co-stars. “Hey, Y/N! You look ah-mazing in that dress!!! Oh… My… God!!!!” one of the gals says to you. You smile and thank them, complementing them on their gowns as well. “So how on God’s green earth did you end up coming with Henners as his date for the red carpet?” another gal asks. You laugh and tell them the studio booked you in neighboring rooms at the same hotel, so you both decided to just go together.

“He’s SO Hot! I just love his curls and those massive muscles! God, he just makes me all broody! Would I love to be held by those massive arms and hands at night! God, I bet he’s amazing under the sheets!” they giggle. “Yeah, I bet nothing with that man is small!” another giggles. You smile and tell them you need to get back to your seat and tell them to enjoy the movie. Rich smiles and pats Henry’s shoulder. “Keep her safe, Hen.” He says then heads up to his seat further up.

You head back to yours and Henry’s seats and hand him the water and a plate of appetizers. He thanks you and the two of you sit and talk quietly while munching on the food. Some of the other cast and crew come and talk with the two of you and ask how you are doing. You chit chat with them until the director steps up in front of everyone and you all take your seats and hush. He thanks everyone for their hard work, dedication and support and tells them to enjoy the bounty of it. He goes to sit down, the lights dim, and the film starts.

You all are blown away by how well it was pieced together, and it was amazing. Everyone was excitedly talking afterwards, and the director invited everyone to the after party at one of the local establishments. Everyone heads to the limos and heads over to the after party.

You and Henry have fun drinking and dancing and he gets a bit of an attitude whenever someone asks you to dance with them. He starts to object until you glare at him and lean over to him and whisper “Don’t blow the cover, Hen, it’s just a fucking dance. I’m still yours.”

He nods and apologizes for his attitude and blames the alcohol. He pouts as he watches you dancing with the co-star. Once he is done dancing, the director asks for a dance with you, and you oblige. He asks how you’re holding up and you say, “Pretty well, thanks to everyone’s help and support.” he smiles. “Glad to hear that. If you ever need anything or have questions about anything in the industry, feel free to call me. I’ll be happy to help walk you through it. I hope we can work together again sometime! You were a delight to direct!” he tells you. You thank him and the two of you chat as you dance till  it is done. You head back to the table where Henry is sitting. “Stop pouting, Hen.” you tell him.

You grab his hand and yank him to stand up. He grudgingly gets up and lets you pull him out to the floor for a dance. You finally get him smiling again when you “accidently” rub against him and tease him. He leans down and whispers, “Careful, Kitten, you play with fire, you might get burned.” and then stands up and continues to dance with you. Once the two of you finish dancing, Rich comes over and asks for one dance, glancing at Henry with a questioning look. Henry nods, not minding because he respects Rich and knows he isn’t a threat. Henry goes and gets another beer and watches you dancing gracefully with Rich.

“So how did you enjoy your first Red Carpet Premiere?” Rich asks you. You blush and reply. “It has been a lot of fun.” He smiles. “Are you still glad you took the role?” he asks. You nod. “It’s let me meet so many wonderful people and given me so many new experiences. It would’ve been better without the one Dan gave me, but it is what it is.” You reply. Rich gives you a warm smile. “Good. I’m glad we got to work together, y/n. You are an amazing woman and I wish you the best in this career. Perhaps we’ll have the pleasure of working together again sometime.” He says with a grin. Leaning down, he whispers in your ear, “In the meantime, enjoy your time being Henry’s girl.”  

You look up at him surprised. “Wait, what?!?” you ask quietly. He smirks. “I’ve seen how he looks at you, Y/n. He’s in love with you, and if I’m reading your looks at him correctly, you feel the same.” He says with a raised eyebrow. “Don’t worry, I won’t say anything. It’s not my business. I just wanted you to know I wish you well. Henry is a great man and will treat you well.” He tells you. You grin and nod, thanking him. “You’ve been through a lot in a short amount of time, Sweetheart. Henry’s good for you and he’ll take good care of you if you let him.” He replies with a grin and leads you back to your man.

“Thank you for letting me have a dance with this amazing woman, Henry. I will take my leave now, but thank you for welcoming me into this film and making the transition and filming, easier for me. I’m sure it was frustrating having to redo everything; but I appreciate how easy you made this feel coming into the mess that had been created by Dan’s carelessness.” He says to Henry in appreciation and with an outstretched hand.

Henry grins and nods, shaking Rich’s hand. “Thanks for helping me to keep her feeling safe and happy on set. I couldn’t have asked for a better actor to take over Dan’s role than you, Rich. You’re an amazing actor!” Henry repays the compliment with his own. The two men smile and shake hands.

[votederpycausemufins]

Alright, another chapter for my fic with Jrum. Just so you know, we’ve got a hels hermit and uh... his personality is Horny(TM). nothing to get it out of a teen rating, but there is some non consensual touching at one point so i’m giving a warning.

Rustic House Club

Jrum was set down on a counter before NPG left again, saving there was something to grab. The younger bot waited there for a little bit before getting bored and jumping down from the counter to explore the place. Jrum was pretty sure this was NPG’s base. It seemed to be a giant rustic house or mansion or something. The wood and stone were unfamiliar, but that being said, the world outside was also strange, covered with mint green grass and dirt that was a grayish blue. The sky looked mostly normal, though it was littered with multicolored clouds. 

Back inside, in the center of the room was a giant campfire surrounded by some reddish brown stone. There was also an enchanting table setup with bookshelves around it, but some of the shelves were made with a dull colored wood, and some were made with the stone like what made up the walls.

A sound just behind Jrum made him jump and whirl around, only to see what looked like a very fluffy bunny hopping around. It was a nice powder blue color, and whenever it jumped, what looked like a small puff of smoke was left behind before fading. 

“H-Hi. You’re n-not a bad bunny, a-are you?” Jrum nervously asked the hopping creature. “B-Because my dad d-doesn’t like bad b-bunnies.” The bunny responded by hopping and landing on top of Jrum’s head and flopping down there to rest. “H-Hey! That tickles!”

Jrum carefully grabbed the animal to put it back on the ground. He smiled as he felt that it was indeed extremely fluff as well as feeling rather soft. Once the bunny was back on the ground, it went hopping about the room again, letting Jrum explore the house more. There were a number of shulker boxes strewn about which seemed to be filled with items, but for the most part the items weren’t ones that Jrum recognized. Like what was a moa? Or an ambrosium shard?

Jrum shook his head as he stopped looking in the boxes before turning his head to some armor stands nearby. One had an elytra resting on it, while the other didn’t have an elytra or chestplate. Other than that, the first stand had some sort of purple armor while the other was a pinkish color.

The last thing Jrum really noticed was a ladder going up to the next floor, but he didn’t get the chance to go upstairs before NPG returned, carrying what sort of resembled his charger. “I’m back!”

Jrum scrambled his way back to the counter and sat on it, hoping NPG hadn’t seen he wasn’t there. “Sorry for the wait. This thing is just hard to carry and Sense wouldn’t come here to build it because he thinks it’s crazy to live in a dangerous place like the aether.”

The bunny from before hopped over and onto NPG’s head. “Oh! Hi Rusty! Did you meet our guest? He’s my brother.”

“Your bunny’s name is Rusty?”

“Yup!” NPG set the charger down near where Jrum was sitting. “Hmm, I’m sure you’ll want somewhere to sleep, so I’ll have to make you a bed later. Because trying to get that thing up a ladder would be no fun.”

Jrum looked at the pinkish armor that NPG was wearing. “What’s that?”

“Hmm?” NPG looked where Jrum was pointing. “Oh! This is some aetherite armor. It’s like netherite, but for here!”

Jrum nodded, then just sat quietly, swinging his legs. NPG was also quiet, just sort of smiling and swinging his arms about before there was a buzz. The older robot reached for his pocket and pulled out what looked like a communicator, though it was a different style, and read a message on it.

“Oh good! Prof says we can meet with him!”

Jrum tilted his head. “Who’s that?”

“That’s right! I haven’t explained things yet!” NPG exclaimed before putting his comm away again. “Okay, so we’re in Helscraft! It’s like where you’re from, but opposite. Our overworld is more like the nether, but not entirely. More like… hmm… if instead of dirt, mycelium and nylium were normal, and then instead of normal trees we get those giant mushroom things that still can be used for wood. The aether is like an opposite nether in that it’s cold here and there’s no bedrock at either edge of the world. And then finally the end in our world is probably the closest to being normal, but there’s no ender dragon. Instead there’s this thing called the warden and it’s really dangerous.”

“Oh… but who’s Proff?”

“Oh right! So here instead of hermits there are helsmits! And just about everyone in Hermitcraft has a sort of… not really opposite, but at the very least alternative version of themselves down here! Prof is one of them. He’s our version of Doc.”

“Who was the person that looked like daddy?” Jrum asked. He knew NPG had said something, but he hadn’t fully been paying attention.

“Oh! That was Perfect Sense. Most people just call him Sense.”

“Who else is there?”

NPG’s eyes lit up, happy to explain for his brother. “Okay, so there’s Xannes who’s our admin. Most people don’t use his name though, which is rude. Instead they say stuff like Evil Xisuma, Evil X or just EX. There’s True Symmetry who’s the current emperor, or I guess empress, of the server. Her running mate was Waltzware, who everyone calls Whiskey. Fun story about that, I can tell you it another time. Uh, he’s in a rivalry with DelayVS and Phedaz. There’s BadtimeswithScar, or just Badtimes. He has a place on the overworld with a big magic crystal in it which is where I go to hang out with you. It’s a little hard to get to sometimes with Peanut guarding the place. Helsknight has been around the longest and-”

“Um, so are you the opposite of my dad?” Jrum asked, cutting his brother off.

“Nope! Not really! That’s Grifter. See, I showed up sort of near the end of season three and he appeared when we moved to season four. I’m pretty sure he was a Listener or something, but anyway he didn’t like me since he thought I was taking his place. When Prof made Base Iridium, it was so he could lock up Grifter because he was like... the worst person. And so he’s been stuck there ever since and I get to stay because they all like me better!”

Jrum nodded. “Okay, and then do Grum and I have copies here?”

NPG stopped smiling at the question. “Well… no. Glodhet made Sense run for emperor, but Since Glodhet was LaxSprite’s running mate, Sense didn’t have anyone as his running mate. I tried, but he said no. Because of that, we never built any versions of you.”

Jrum looked down at the floor sadly. Sure NPG was a great friend, but he and his brother were really the only kids on the server, so it was pretty lonely a lot of the time.

“Um, well, do you want to go and see Prof?”

Jrum nodded and NPG picked him up before going to the portal he had outside. Jrum shivered when they walked outside, the air extremely cold. That definitely was opposite to the nether. It also didn’t help that it seemed to be night out, which made it even colder. “Isn’t the neth- uh, aether faster?”

“Yeah, but with its day and night cycles, it’s really dangerous at night and you don’t really have any gear I don’t think. Besides, Prof isn’t that far away from the other side of my portal.”

“O-Okay.”

Grian and Mumbo spawned in Helscraft right next to each other. They spawned on a small island that was half made of mycelium, half on fire. Grian was a little worried about the fact that Xisuma didn’t seem to be with them, but that was probably fine? Maybe he had been there before and when spawning in, he appeared there instead.

There seemed to be some sort of water around the island, but it didn’t quite look right as it was a bright red color. Grian carefully plucked a wing and dipped it into the water. It didn’t get burnt or damaged or anything, so that was a good sign.

Mumbo looked in a chest on the island and found it filled with boats. The wood seemed to be slightly pink, like a slightly more colorful jungle boat. He placed it into the water and got in, Grian climbing in behind him. “Well, while everything looks different in color, that island seems to be like the spawn island back home, and that out there looks like the shopping district.”

Grian looked into the distance. “Yeah, though it doesn’t look quite as populated as the one on Hermitcraft. I-Is that a giant blackstone castle?”

Mumbo squinted his eyes, looking back towards the larger island. It was a little hard to tell because it was against a black sky with few stars in sight, but Mumbo could make out what seemed to be the outline of a castle. “I’m guessing they have the same sort of starting seed, but they build whatever they want and it doesn’t match what we do.”

Grian agreed, and then Mumbo paddled them to the island. When they reached the shore, Mumbo got out first and then held a hand out to help Grian. 

“Since I can fly, I’ll look at this place from above. You check on foot. Does that sound good?” Grian asked, getting a nod from Mumbo. “Great, let’s go.”

True groaned as the sunlight was blocked for a moment. Even with her sunglasses on and her eyes closed, she could tell when the light didn’t reach her closed eyes for a moment. Her best guess was someone decided to try and annoy her again by building something to fly in just the right place to annoy her, something that had happened more than once before. She moved her glasses to her forehead and set down the glass of wine she had been sipping from before walking to the edge of her sunbathing balcony and looking below to see who exactly was messing with her.

She groaned when she was Sense walking in the paths below. Of course it would be the resident evil genius causing trouble. And then as the light was blocked again, she turned her gaze skyward to see what exactly he had made this time. True expected some sort of redstone machine to be moving around up there, Sense trying to control it from below and put it in the right place. What she didn’t expect was for the thing in the air to be a person, specifically one with wings, not elytra, on their back.

Immediately True was rushing back into the castle. This was not happening. “WHISKEY!” She shouted at the top of her lungs. “STOP WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU’RE DOING AND CALL PROF! SENSE FINALLY FUCKING DID IT!” She heard some sort of response but didn’t really pay attention as she grabbed the armor and weapons she left inside. As soon as it was all re-equipped, she went back onto the balcony and scoured the skies.

It was easy to spot the avian in the sky, having gotten closer if anything. True drew her bow and aimed at the moving target, trying to follow his path. Then when she was sure her aim was right, she fired the arrow, watching it sail in the air.

Mumbo had been looking in every building he had come across, which had been harder than it sounded since the land of the island was damaged beyond belief. Rubble was everywhere and creeper holes littered the terrain. He kept looking up at Grian, hoping he would find something so that he wouldn’t need to bother with the buildings.

The redstoner was just climbing out of another building through the mostly blocked up door when he looked up in the sky. Grian was still flying, but he watched as one moment an arrow hit the avian and the next he was covered in fire and falling to the ground. Immediately Mumbo started running in Grian’s direction. 

A few minutes before, Grian had finished looking at yet another section of the island from overhead and turned around to view the next one. He was so focused on the ground below, he wasn’t paying attention to the airspace around him until suddenly an arrow struck his wing. Fire from the arrow spread to his wings and the rest of his body, making it feel even worse. 

Grian tried to flap his wings and move towards the water. He wasn’t sure what that stuff was, but he hoped it would put him out. The problem was that the arrow had hit his wing in just the right place that even twitching it slightly felt like agony. And since he only had use of one of his wings, the avian started plummeting to the ground. He at the very least managed to twist his body so that way his wings were below him so that the feathers helped soften his fall.

“Don’t worry. I got you Gri.” Grian heard Mumbo say and a moment later he could hear a bucket of water get spilled out, dousing the fire that was covering his body.

“Th-Thanks. Ow that hurt.” Grian thanked Mumbo and stood up to brush himself off. “I didn’t even notice that- mmph!” Grian was cut off as suddenly Mumbo’s lips met his in a kiss. His eyes widened in shock, especially as Mumbo tried to deepen the kiss. At that point Grian pushed him away. “Wh-What?!”

“Sorry. Just been a while. And with that just happened…” Mumbo gave a half smile. Grian sort of knew where he was coming from, but this hardly seemed like something to warrant a kiss like that. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Uh, yeah. Thanks for the water. Won’t be able to fly for a bit though. I got shot right in the wing and even potions are going to have trouble with that.”

“Well I can help you with that later. That arrow came from the castle, so we should be careful about any more from there.”

Grian nodded, but then paused. If anyone was going to be shooting at him, it might be because they didn’t want him getting to Jrum. And if that were the case, then Jrum was in the castle. “Well then we should be going to the castle, right?”

Mumbo smiled. “Of course. Lead the way.” Mumbo gestured towards the castle and Grian rushed off, not hearing the words that were added on at the end. “My dear.”

Mumbo followed along behind Grian, heading towards the castle. He didn’t bother picking up the water that had been placed down. Who would care about that? In fact, he even threw the bucket behind him, not watching where it landed.

The bucket sailed through the air before finally landing with a thunk. Mumbo rubbed his head, glad that the item had been empty. “Who would throw an empty bucket?” He asked no one in particular before finally getting to the top of the hill. Sitting there was a water source,  likely from the bucket. This should have been where Grian landed, but the avian was nowhere in sight. “I didn’t realize he had a bucket of water on him.” He then realized it was red instead. “Wait, this is water from here… Who placed this?”

Mumbo continued to look at the surrounding terrain and noticed the water had made the surrounding mycelium a bit muddy. There seemed to be two sets of footprints, and in one print, a feather had been stepped on. Said feather was a bright red, which could only belong to one person. Mumbo’s eyes followed the prints, watching as they went towards the castle. If Grian was anywhere, he would be there, so he started walking in that direction.

Grian raised an eyebrow as Mumbo held his hand, but he supposed it made sense with what just happened and them going into a dangerous area. They carefully walked through the halls of the castle, checking every room. So far there was no sign of Jrum, but there weren’t even signs of anyone. But then they were turning down one hallway and ran into someone who looked like Tango, except his skin was a lavender color, his hair even darker than Mumbo’s and his eyes glowing purple rather than red.

“It was easier to find you two than I thought.” The not Tango spoke, pulling out an axe of some sort of pink colored metal. He ran towards Grian and Mumbo, ready to attack, but then Mumbo pulled out a piece of TNT. Immediately not Tango stopped in his tracks, and then Mumbo was pulling Grian another direction, placing the TNT down and causing not Tango to scream.

“How’d you know that would work?” Grian asked as they ran.

“Didn’t, just had a slight hunch.” Mumbo replied. “Let’s go up those stairs.” And Grian looked over where Mumbo pointed, the two of them then turning to go that way.

Behind them, the not Tango tried to find another path. He didn’t get far though before running into Mumbo. In an instant the axe was out in front of him, ready to attack. “Gah! Don’t take a step closer or-” Not Tango looked around, surprised to not see Grian. “Where’d the bird go?”

“You saw him? Which way did he go?”

“You two already got separated? That’s so unlike you.” Not Tango answered. Mumbo looked away from the helsmit, who took the opportunity to attack. The redstoner noticed just in time and was able to dodge the attack, running to dive behind the block of TNT nearby. It obviously wasn’t the safest place, but it was still cover. One that happened to repel the not Tango, who freaked out at the block.

When Grian reached the top of the stairs with Mumbo, the redstoner pulled the two of them into a nearby room. It was thankfully empty, and Grian watched as Mumbo locked the door behind them. “Well, they know we’re here now. It would probably be good to deal with your wing, hmm?”

Grian nodded. “Yeah, it would be good to do that so I’m not hindered at all. We’ll probably need all the help we can get with this.”

Mumbo came over to Grian as he was busy climbing onto the table in the room so that Mumbo had a better platform to treat him on. Just as he was settling down, ready to shift his wings back into existence, Mumbo grabbed him from behind, the redstoner’s mouth suddenly on his neck. Grian gasped, not sure how to react, and before he could do anything, Mumbo was off him again, leaving a purplish-red mark on Grian’s neck.

Grian turned to face Mumbo, only to be kissed again. Grian wanted to complain, but Mumbo’s hand found the sweet spot on his back, right between his shoulder blades, and Grian couldn’t help but melt into the redstoner’s arms.

Mumbo panted as he reached the top of the stairs, having been chased by someone that almost looked like Zedaph. He had been cornered and nearly killed, but then the not Tango showed up and the two of them started fighting each other instead. Mumbo used the opening to run, getting up to the next floor. At the top of the steps, he thought about just standing there a bit longer to catch his breath, but then he heard what sounded like Grian behind a nearby door. 

It sounded like he might have been hurt, so the redstoner rushed to the door and tried to open it, only to find it locked. Another noise from inside worried Mumbo, and he immediately had a pickaxe in his hand and broke down the metal door. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but it wasn’t this. In front of him was himself and Grian. The avian was sitting on a table as he kissed him, hands working on pulling the red sweater off. “What in the world?!”

Grian opened his eyes when Mumbo spoke, looking to see what the problem was. They then widened to the point they were practically bulging out of his skull as he saw Mumbo in the doorway as Mumbo was also currently kissing him.

Grian pushed Mumbo, the one kissing him, away so he could say something. “Mumbo?!”

The Mumbo who had been kissing Grian turned around to see the second version of him in the doorway before looking back at Grian. “Wait. You’re not Grifter.”

“Uh, no. I’m Grian? W-Which one of you is Mumbo?”

“I am!” Mumbo spoke up, attempting to go to Grian’s side, but his hels counterpart stopped him.

“And I’m Sense. Are you sure you’re Grian though? Because your body is just the same as I remember Grifter having~. The same soft lips and strong muscles. And I’m sure you have the same-”

Grian felt Sense’s hand start to move down his back as he spoke, so the avian shoved him away. “Nope! We are not doing this! Absolutely not!”

Sense pouted and gave a huff. “Fine, then what are you doing here?”

“We’re here looking for our son.” Mumbo replied. “I’m guessing since you didn’t realize this was Grian, you haven’t seen him.”

“What would that have to do with it?” Sense replied. “Though didn’t realize he was your son too. Anyway, of course I’ve seen him.” When Grian opened his mouth, Sense stopped him by continuing. “Oh, but I won’t be telling you anything just like that. I need something out of it.”

“Oh ew no!” Grian replied, moving behind Mumbo.

“Oh please, I wouldn’t want that. Okay maybe if you were offering… but no, if you can get here from your little Hermitcraft world, you might be able to get to the last season of Helscraft.”

“And why would you want that?” Mumbo asked.

“Grifter got left behind, and none of us can go back there ourselves. I mean, there are a few here who can, but no one who’s willing to actually free Grifter.”

“I’m afraid we can’t either. Xisuma’s the one who brought Grian and I here. And I doubt he would want to send us anywhere else.”

Sense scoffed in irritation. “Fine, then I have one other option, but you’ll need to help me out Grian.”

Grian winced, clinging tighter to Mumbo. “Wh-What do you want?”

“I’m really a fan at how True is running this place. I would have loved to be emperor, but without Grifter, I didn’t have a chance. However, if you’re with me, I can make a bluff for the throne.”

Grian hesitated, weighing his options. Finally, he sighed. “Okay. Fine.”

“Grian, you don’t have to say yes.”

“If it’ll help us find him, I’m going to do it.” Grian stopped hiding behind Mumbo. “I’m in. Just as long as any contact from you stays above the waist!”

Sense frowned at that. “Really? Because-”

“Touch anything below that, and you won’t have hands to try again with.”

“Alright, alright. I won’t!” Sense replied, actually smiling slightly. “In fact and attitude like that should help sell it. Now let’s go find True. I’d stay in here if I were you Mumbo. Wouldn’t want you ruining things and not be able to get that information.”

Mumbo wanted to argue, but Sense was already out of the room dragging Grian behind, leaving the hermit to find a place to sit and wait.

“There you go. Th-Those wings should work fine for you.” A pig hybrid spoke, putting down a clipboard.

NPG helped Jrum down from the examination table he had been sitting on. “Thanks Prof! Let’s go test them out Jrum!”

“O-Oh, by the way, you two should be careful out there.” Prof stopped the brothers before they could leave. “I g-got a message from True. A-Apparently she saw Grifter. I would th-think she mistook you for him again… e-except you’ve obviously here.”

“Oh! Then I suppose we will need to be very careful as we attempt to fly.” NPG replied, starting to leave again, but this time Jrum stopped him.

“Um, NPG? How long have I been here exactly?”

“Hmmm… Maybe half a day? Not too long.”

“But I was out for a while trying to get to that place in the nether… So I’ve been gone longer than that. Maybe that’s not the Grifter person, but maybe that’s my dad looking for me?”

“Oh! That’s probably it! Even more of a reason to try flying! So we can go over to the castle and see if that’s him!”

“Well i-if you’re going to do that, stay safe.” Prof smiled and waved goodbye to the two robots before going back to his other work. “Hmm… l-looks like Xannes is trying some new scheme. G-Guess I’ll have to go over there now to stop him.”

Xisuma woke up with a literal jolt as something shocked his arm. He tried to move to see what it was, only to find himself unable to move anything, being tied down to a chair. “Mind telling me why you brought Grifter here?” A deep voice spoke, one X was very familiar with.

“Evil X? Where am I?” Xisuma tried to turn his head around even a little to see where his brother was.

“You happen to be in my base. I coded in something so that you would be brought here if you ever came to Helscraft. I never expected it would actually be used. But right now I’m very grateful for it.” Now Evil X walked into Xisuma’s line of sight. He was surprised to see that his brother wasn’t wearing a helmet, then noticing that he himself wasn’t wearing one either. “Where’s my helmet?”

“Oh you don’t need that. I know it helps you access all your fun little admin powers like mine gives me my hacks. The air here is breathable so you don’t need to worry about that and we can have a nice little chat. Now. Why did you bring Grifter here?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Evil X smacked Xisuma with a shovel. “Wrong answer, try again.”

“No, I’m serious. I don’t know what you mean. I came here with two of my Hermits, that’s all!”

“You? Bringing hermits with you? Why?”

“Someone from here kidnapped one of their sons.”

Evil X cursed. “You brought Grian and Mumbo. That’s not going to end well. NPG’s got the kid so I have a clue of where he might be. The question is how fast we can find them.”

“Who’s NPG? And you still haven’t explained about ‘Grifter’.”

“NPG is the closest thing we have to Grian here. Technically, that title would go to Grifter, but none of us can deal with him. We locked him up and left him behind in our old world. Look me in the eyes brother.” Evil X stared at Xisuma, waiting until the hermit was looking back. “I want to destroy your server. I want it to burn to the ground. I wouldn’t mind if all your hermits died and couldn’t… well okay, maybe just had trouble respawning. We grief and steal and have actual wars here. But I would never, not in a million years, ever want you to deal with Grifter. That’s how bad he is. And right now, it seems like the others here think Grian is.”

Xisuma immediately tried to stand up, only finding himself struggling in his bindings. “Then we need to stop that.”

“No, we don’t need to do anything. This is my server, I’m dealing with it.” Evil X started to walk away, but Xisuma heard him stop walking for a moment. “Plus, I wouldn’t mind having you own me in the long run.”

[icharchivist]

A3 x Sleeping at Last

I have a fondness for the musician Sleeping at Last and i decided to have fun associating at least one of his song per A3 Characters. Under the cut are songs as well as some highlight lyrics to justify my choice. Some of them i feel more strongly than others so anyone with a comment is welcomed as well.

Thus here i go:

& Spotify playlist of all those songs in order if you want to go through it

Mankai Company : North

We will call this place our home, The dirt in which our roots may grow. Though the storms will push and pull, We will call this place our home. We’ll tell our stories on these walls. Every year, measure how tall. And just like a work of art, We’ll tell our stories on these walls. Let the years we’re here be kind, be kind. Let our hearts, like doors, open wide, open wide. Settle our bones like wood over time, over time. Give us bread, give us salt, give us wine.

Spring Troupe: From The Ground Up

It took me 27 years to wrap my head around this- To brush the ashes off of everything i love. Where courage was contagious, confidence was key. Right as rain, soft as snow, It grows and grows and grows, Our home sweet home.

We'll try to document this light, With cameras to our eyes, In an effort to remember What being mended feels like.

We're home sweet home.

Sakuya Sakuma : The Projectionist

When I was young I fell in love with story, With the eleventh hour, with the blaze of glory.

When hands are tied and clocks are ticking An audience convinced, we're leaning in, holding our breath again Just when we thought the game was over The music lifts and our dying soldier lives And we breathe a sigh of relief The theater lights dim and all goes quiet. In the darkest of rooms, light shines the brightest.

We’re leaving, we’re leaving our shadows behind us now. We’re leaving, we’re leaving it all behind for now. But even dust was made to settle And if we’re made of dust, then what makes us any different? I guess we give what we’ve been given: A family tree so very good at giving up When we’ve had enough. Though truth is heavier than fiction, Gravity lifts as the projectionist rolls tape. And it makes us brave again

Masumi Usui : Venus

At first I thought you were a constellation. I made a map of your stars, then I had a revelation: You’re as beautiful as endless, You’re the universe I’m helpless in. An astronomer at my best When I throw away the measurements.

I was a billion little pieces 'til you pulled me into focus. Astronomy in reverse, It was me who was discovered.

Tsuzuru Minagi : Page 28

Have you read the script? Could you picture it? ... is it worth the risk?

Here in the second act I'm living in repair. Strange how the heart adapts when its pieces disappear. And there, on page 28, I'm so tired of drying glue, I begin my grand attempt at building something new. Though I tend to write the epiphany more immediately, I guess I'm trusting that there's such a thing as elegance in dissonance. God, I'm skeptical of pulling scenes. Was it something that I said? was it something that I did? Please don't get me wrong - I still need your help As history repeats itself Here in the aftermath, I'm pulling at the seams. Strange how the heart adapts in the absence of routine. And there, on page 29, I find “new” and make it mine. But I can't help casting shadows on all I leave behind. Maybe I could afford to change a bit... Even let go of the reigns? Every torn out page was worth the risk Now that the stakes have been raised. So here in the final draft, I've given all I have. Strange how the heart expands in the absence of a plan. There's nothing left on the page, but I'm okay with that, For I found my resolution Was designed for stronger hands.

 or Body

There's magic in our bones, A north star in our soul That remembers our way home. There's magic in our bones. No, I don't have a script for this. But I know the right words exist Somewhere, And I just need more time. I know, I know, I'm asking for the moon, But I must listen to intuition Believe me, I only want what's right.

Itaru Chigasaki : Pluto

I woke up from the same dream: Falling backwards, falling backwards ’Til it turned me inside out. Now I live a waking life Of looking backwards, looking backwards; A model citizen of doubt. Until one day I had enough Of this exercise of trust. I leaned in and let it hurt, And let my body feel the dirt. When I break pattern, I break ground. I rebuild when I break down. I wake up more awake than I’ve ever been before. Still I’m pinned under the weight Of what I believed would keep me safe. So show me where my armor ends, Show me where my skin begins. Like a final puzzle piece It all makes perfect sense to me… The heaviness that I hold in my heart belongs to gravity. The heaviness that I hold in my heart’s been crushing me.

Or  East

I set out to rule the world With only a paper shield and a wooden sword. No mountain dare stand in my way, Even the oceans tremble in my wake. The tide is brave, but always retreats. Even the sand, it cowers under my feet. My kingdom towers above it all, While I sleep safe and sound in my cardboard walls. Now I bear little resemblance to the king I once was. I bear little resemblance to the king I could become. Maybe paper is paper, maybe kids will be kids- Lord, I want to remember how to feel like I did. So I draw my sword with the morning sun, I summon the moon as soon as the day is done. The clouds march on, on my command. Even the rain, it falls according to plan. The trees bow down and give their leaves. I humbly accept their offerings of peace. The years wore on and changed my heart, The leading role for a smaller part.

Citron : Noble Aim

Chances are we are the same, against the odds, against the grain We lean, like gardens toward light but we wait, Like evening for night, Don't we? Chances are we are alike, against what better judgement writes We ache, like children for love For a purpose worthy of such a noble aim as love.

Chances are we bruise the same; a family tree desperate for rain. A thirst only deserts know best. a hurt so at home in our chests. Call it stubbornness or bravery, To let our branches continue to reach, With such a noble aim, With such a noble aim as love. Every broken branch and loosened leaf that we've grown to ignore, Is now a part of something greater than before. Every nest that rests upon our limbs, Seeking shelter from the storms, Is a purpose worth being broken for.

Chances are we are the same, against the odds, against the grain We lean, like gardens toward light, We reach with all of our might For such a noble aim as love

Chikage Utsuki : Neptune

Pitch black, pale blue, It was a stained glass Variation of the truth, And I felt empty handed. You let me set sail with cheap wood. So I patched up every leak that I could, 'Til the blame grew too heavy.

Stitch by stitch I tear apart,  If brokenness is a form of art, I must be a poster child prodigy Thread by thread I come apart If brokenness is a work of art, Surely this must be my masterpiece

I'm only honest when it rains If I time it right, the thunder breaks, when I open my mouth I wanna tell you but I don't know how

I'm only honest when it rains An open book, with a torn out page, and my inks run out I want to love you but i don’t know how...

           Or South

Some truths, over time, can learn to play nice. Some truths are sharper than knives. Some truths we only see in the corners of our eyes. Some truths we wish we could hide. Some truths can save us, Some take our lives. Some truths are fire and some truths are ice. No matter what category you fit into, Truth’s got its sight set on you. If truth is north, then I am true south. I can’t figure it out- God knows. Always looking up 'Til my eyes give up. That’s how I lost touch of who I am and who I was.

Summer Troupe : Joy

The clumsy start of adolescence, The glue that mends our broken remnants, An overwhelming sense of reverence, It's a glimpse of light in a mine of gold. A silver lining spilling over, The rumor of buried treasure, The starting line of an adventure, It's a glimpse of light in a mine of gold. It's an afterglow, it's an echo Still ringing out in spite of me. It's the faint outline of the divine In the hiding place of my periphery. So I let go and in this moment, I can breathe. I can breathe. The countless stars we're sleeping under, It's the brightest sparks that we remember. When our eyes are closed, we still see embers, A glimpse of light in a mine of gold. It's a glimpse of light in a mine of gold.

Tenma Sumeragi : Three

Maybe I've done enough, and your golden child grew up Maybe this trophy isn't real love, And with or without it I'm good enough Maybe I've done enough, Finally catching up For the first time I see an image of my brokeness Utterly worthy of love

And I finally see myself, Through the eyes of no one else. It's so exhausting on this silver screen Where I play the role of anyone but me. I finally see myself, Unabridged and overwhelmed, A mess of a story I'm ashamed to tell, But I'm slowly learning how to break this spell. And I finally see myself. Now I only want what's real, to let my heart feel what it feels. Gold, silver or bronze hold no value here, Where work and rest are equally revered. I only want what's real, I set aside the highlight reel, And leave my greatest failures on display with an asterisk; Worthy of love anyway.

Yuki Rurikawa : Hope

There is hope in our eyes when we truly see each other Like the light of countless stars We are not afraid of the dark 'Cause there is hope in our hearts And every single beat, we feel it To the ends of the earth, our echo carries on We are sacred, we are strong, We are beautiful, we belong Please hear our unheard song There is hope in our voice when we listen to each other Barriers disappeared with every story told We are sacred, we are strong, We are beautiful, we belong Please hear our unheard song There is hope in our eyes, When we truly see each other We raise our flag, lift our voice This is our moment, We are sacred, we are strong This is our moment, We are beautiful, we belong This is our moment, We are worthy, we are true This is our moment, There are no borders from this view Please help us raise our flag There is hope in our eyes when we truly see each other

Muku Sakisaka :  Daughter

I want to see your happily ever after, That you know in your heart that you matter, That you are royalty. This is your kingdom, This is your crown, This is your story. This is your moment, Don’t look down.

You’re ready. born ready, And all you gotta do is put one foot in front of you. Our ceiling is your floor, And all you gotta do is put one foot in front of you. If only you knew

Misumi Ikaruga : Seven

How nice it'd be if we could try everything? I'm serious, let's make a list and just begin What about danger? So what, what about risk? Let's climb the mountain before we cross that bridge! 'Cause I'm restless, For whatever comes next

How wonderful to see a smile on your face It costs farewell tears for a welcome-home parade A secret handshake between me and my one life: I'll find the silver lining no matter what the price 'Cause I'm hungry, For whatever comes next Let me tell you another secret of the trade- It feels like sinking when I'm standing in one place So I look to the future and I book another flight When everything feels heavy, I've learned to travel light But I want to be here, Truly be here To watch the ones that I love bloom And I want to make room To love them through and through and through And through the slow and barren seasons too

I feel hope deep in my bones... And tomorrow will be beautiful.

Kazunari Miyoshi : Nine

Who am I to say what any of this means? I have been sleepwalking since I was fourteen Now as I write my song, I retrace my steps Honestly, it's easier to let myself forget

Still, I check my vital signs, Choked up, I realize I've been less than half myself for more than half my life

It looks like empathy to understand all sides But I'm just trying to find myself through someone else's eyes So show me what to do to restart this heart of mine How do I forgive myself for losing so much time?

A little at a time I feel more alive I let the scale tip and feel all of it It's uncomfortable but right We were born to try, to see each other through To know and love ourselves and others well Is the most difficult and meaningful work we'll ever do

Kumon Hyodo : Intermission

I'm so tired but I can't sleep. My mind is full but I can't speak. Among the dust of the hard-to-reach, I'm stuck Right here, somewhere between side a and side b. I could call it compromise, or just an intermission. Some kind of consolation prize for the race I never finished. I want to turn these tired gears. I want to feel the follow-through, Some kind of equilibrium... Something to set my watch to.

I'm here, somewhere between victory and a white flag. Caught in this purgatory dream, I'm stuck.   But I want to set the record straight, I want to retrace my every step. If I could just rewind all the tapes, Then maybe I'd find my loose thread.   Call it a compromise, or just an intermission. Some kind of consolation prize, so close, but never finished.   I want to turn these tired gears. I want to feel the follow-through, Some kind of equilibrium... Something to set my watch to.

 Pluto works for him too

 Autumn Troupe : The Sea of Atlas

We once felt safe, like no cure was needed. Our vocabularies had no room for “defeated,” But we grew up quick and became connoisseurs of it. There's a fine line, a fine line in between Our progress and our instability. We can't help ourselves but hunt for more. A design flaw? or the olive branch that proves the shore- The catalyst we've waited for.

Banri Settsu : One

Hold on for a minute, 'Cause I believe that we can fix this over time That every imperfection is a lie, Or at least an interruption Now hold on, let me finish,  No, I'm not saying perfect exists in this life But we'll only know for certain if we try

The list goes on forever of all the ways I could be better in my mind As if I could earn God's favor given time Or at least congratulations Now I have learned my lesson The price of this so-called perfection is everything I spend my whole life searching desperately To find out grace requires nothing of me I... I wanna sing a song worth singing I'll write an anthem worth repeating I... I wanna feel the transformation A melody of reformation I hold it all more loosely, and yet somehow much more dearly 'Cause I spend my whole life searching desperately To find out that grace requires nothing Grace requires nothing of me

Juza Hyodo : Taste

I am alive, I am awake. I am aware of what light tastes like. The curtains drawn, the table's set, I wanna be, I wanna be, at my best.

I'm on my knees and only scratch the surface.

Out of the woods, out of the dark. I’m well aware of the shadows in my heart. I wanna feel, tectonic shifts; I wanna be, I wanna be, astonished. I wanna be astonished. So I propose a toast: To fists unraveling, to glass unshattering. To breaking all the rules, to breaking bread again. We’re swallowing light, we’re swallowing our pride. We’re raising our glass, ’til we’re fixed from the inside. 'Til we're fixed from the inside. We're nothing less than a work in progress. Sacred text on Post-It notes. We only speak of a world in pieces. Let's make a map of what matters most: Where every fracture is a running river. Leading us back to our golden coast.

OR Mercury

No one can unring this bell Unsound this alarm, unbreak my heart new God knows, I am dissonance Waiting to be swiftly pulled into tune

I know the further I go The harder I try, only keeps my eyes closed And somehow I’ve fallen in love With this middle ground at the cost of my soul Yet I know, if I stepped aside Released the controls, you would open my eyes That somehow, all of this mess Is just my attempt to know the worth of my life

Made of precious metals, precious metal inside

Taichi Nanao:  Sadness

It feels like falling, It feels like rain,  Like losing my balance, Again and again It once was so easy, Breathe in, breathe out But at the foot of this mountain I only see clouds

I feel out of focus, or at least indisposed As this strange weather pattern inside me takes hold Each brave step forward I take three steps behind It's mind over matter, Matter over mind

Slowly, then all at once, A single loose thread And it all comes undone

Where there is light a shadow appears The cause and effect when life interferes The same rule applies to goodness and grief For in our great sorrow We learn what joy means

I don't want to fight, I don't want to fight it But I will learn to fight, I will learn to fight 'Til this pendulum finds equilibrium

Slowly, then all at once, The dark clouds depart And the damage is done, So pardon the dust While this all settles in, With a broken heart Transformation begins

or Bright and Early

The sun comes pouring in. Filling glasses up with diamonds, Stirring where I've been But it's all trigger and effect. Dominoes at their best. In the end I'm told, It taught me everything I know. That the wreckage left behind, will somehow make me grow.

In the end I'm told It taught me everything I know. But when the fire took our home, I lost part of my soul. From the ground up I'll keep building houses into homes. 'cause if trust is ribbon, Then patience ties it in a perfect bow.

Omi Fushimi : Aperture

Happiness is somewhere I have been before- A blurry photograph that I have since ignored. I'll carefully adjust the aperture once more, Until I set the record straight. I'll brush aside the dim, make room for the bright. I'll be an editor, no, a curator of light. I'll let my better angels always set me right, Until I even out the score. Until I even out the score. God, it has been quite a year- I've lived a little bit and I've died a little more. I know that I've asked it before, But please let the scale tip here in my favor. What was once the sweetest melody I've heard Is now a memory reduced to little words. I'll tune the orchestra and play the overture, Until I pinpoint every note. Give me the heart of an archeologist, That I may dig until I prove that I exist. A subterranean cathedral in my midst, Where echos come to rest.

Sakyo Furuichi : Touch

When will I feel this as vivid as it truly is, Fall in love in a single touch, and fall apart when it hurts too much? Can we skip past near-death clichés Where my heart restarts, as my life replays? All I want is to flip a switch Before something breaks that cannot be fixed.

Invisible machinery, These moving parts inside of me Well, they’ve been shutting down for quite some time, Leaving only rust behind. Well I know, I know - the sirens sound Just before the walls come down. Pain is a well-intentioned weatherman Predicting God as best he can, But God I want to feel again, Oh God I want to feel again.

Rain or shine, I don’t feel a thing, just some information upon my skin. I miss the subtle aches when the weather changed, The barometric pressure we always blamed. All I want is to flip a switch Before something breaks that cannot be fixed. Down my arms, a thousand satellites Suddenly discover signs of life.

Azami Izumida : Anger

Like wildfire, it starts in my chest The silence grows louder, ringing out in my head

I feel the Earth shaking under my feet I feel the pressure building until I can't breathe And it takes everything

And it all spills out, reckless but honest words leave my mouth Like kerosene on a flame of doubt, I couldn't make it right

Alarms will sound, but it's too late for holy water now Sooner or later the fire dies down, I'll open up my eyes

And I'll try and find the image of God In mountains made of ash and clouds of smoke It's fight or flight, buried in my mind, It's fight or flight It keeps my mind cold

But I feel it break, With just one misstep down a fire escape And suddenly I'm someone that prays, a last minute man of faith But I'll leave behind miles and miles of jagged lines Upon the surface of the Divine, I wish I could set them straight

Say

they impose the endless fight to always be perfect it seems they have been chosen to be above the rest

but the contradiction stands between these perfect lives and the words that they've misread there was no reading say all the things that you really want to say the truest of forms will show finally you'll find your soul

Bonus: Sakyo & Azami: Uneven Odds

I once knew your father well He fought tears as he spoke of your mother’s health I guess a part of him just couldn’t return Forgiveness is a lesson he cursed you to learn As your guardian I was instructed well To make sense of God’s love in these fires of hell No I don’t expect you to understand Just to live what little life your broken heart can Maybe your light is a seed And the darkness the dirt In spite of the uneven odds Beauty lifts from the earth As the years move on these questions take shape Are you getting stronger or is time shifting weight? No one expects you to understand Just to live what little life your mended heart can You’ll always remember the moment God took her away For the weight of the world was placed on your shoulders that day You’re much too young now so I write these words down, “Darkness exists to make light truly count.”

& Heirloom

You try your hardest to leave the past alone. This crooked posture is all you’ve ever known. It is the consequence of living in between The weight of family and the pull of gravity. You are so much more than your father’s son. You are so much more than what I’ve become. Long before you were born there was light Hidden deep in these young, unfamiliar eyes. A million choices, though little on their own, Become the heirloom of the heaviness you’ve known. You are so much more than your father’s son. You are so much more than what I’ve become,

You pressed rewind for the thousandth time When the tapes wore through. So you memorized those unscripted lines, Desperate for some kind of clue:

When the scale tipped, when you inherited,  A fight that you were born to lose. It’s not your fault, No, it’s not your fault, I put this heavy heart in you.

You remind me of who I could have been, Had I been stronger and braver way back then. A million choices, though little on their own, Became the heirloom of the heaviness we’ve known. You are so much more than your father’s son. You are so much more than the wars you’ve won. You are so much more than your father’s son. You are so much more than what I’ve become.

Winter Troupe : Homesick

Our resignation only comes on beaten paths When the world was flat we dreamt of its edges If love's elastic, then were we born to test it's reach? Is it buried treasure or just a single puzzle piece? It's poison ivy beneath our brave and trusting feet All revelations come to us in recovery Cry wolf, cry mercy, Cry the name of the one you were raised to believe Cry heart, cry yourself to sleep, Cry a storm of tears if it helps you breathe It helps you, if it helps you breathe

 Or Hourglass

We're taking turns at shattering apart. At least we're taking turns. How did we get so good at dismantling these hearts? How did we ever get so good? We dress our best to receive their sympathy. At our worst, we dress our best? “time heals all” According to these greeting cards. Oh how we'd rather time resets. If we could turn the hourglass, we would. If we could move a grain of sand, we would. If we could find our way back, we would.

Tsumugi Tsukioka : Clockwork

There is glass between our touch, phantom limbs of former love... and the truth is that I am so terrified that the callous is deeper than the surface of our skin. and it takes us twice as long, it takes us twice as long to heal. we'll lift up the ground to see the system of roots beneath. gears turn, endlessly, to bring the world back to life like clockwork, when it dies. the cadence of beating hearts, the click of its moving parts grows louder and louder from this restless earth... future gardens wait patiently below  and somehow we smell them blossom through the snow.

still unsatisfied, we chase what we're denied. as generations wait, we can't resist the taste of possibility. gears turn, endlessly, to bring us back to life again. like clockwork, we begin.

Tasuku Takato : Porcelain

The door broke when you slammed it shut, and the cracks kept reaching long after you left. through the floorboards, branching towards the hall, like vines that never rest... climbing like fire through the walls. a single spark that claims the whole forest - I know, I know... it's all for the best. but honestly, I would rather be safe from a distance than here... when I fell to my knees to sew the damage shut, I couldn't believe... a bright, staggering light came flooding into me from out of the seams. so I reached deeper in and pulled my whole world wide open, and for each broken mile, a billion miracles happen at once in everything... in everything. but I'm safe from a distance, right here. everything I love was made of porcelain, ready to break. but the bright, staggering light, it anxiously waits inside. like nesting dolls, the secret hides. and like every birth, it was a necessary pain... I know, I know... it's all worth the wait, worth the weight.

or Accidental Lights

On your mark, get set... A million miles past the finish line My heels lift at this imaginary starting line. The trigger slips; My heart was racing well before it's time. Time's running out, it's always running out on me, As the road up ahead disappears. Though it's all been said, and this empty dictionary is all that's left, I'll try to change the world in a single word. My hands are shaking, ready or not. Invisible ink well it's all I've got. So I'll concentrate and pick from these barren trees. Time's running out, it's always running out on me, And every road I discover disappears under my feet - Some call it reckless, some call it breathing. Have i said too much or not enough? Is it overkill or is it giving up, To measure out the distance of an echo's reach? If it's all broken mirrors and a chance roll of the dice, Then I'll risk everything for a glimpse of accidental light. Time's running out, it's always running out on me, And every road I've discovered disappears under my feet - Some call it reckless, I call it breathing.

Hisoka Mikage : Smell

Is this the part when the brain scans show where memories reside? Some ambiguous shape in me suddenly producing light Triggered like a tripwire, every time I breathe it in Isn't it strange that a Lilac tree is what unlocks where I've been? Like a time machine rebuilds the past, our memories return Like remembering the ashes before we burn

It finishes against my will, the light goes out, my heart goes still And just like that, I believe in ghosts

Time and space are at my back, Performing disappearing acts Now I can escape the smell of smoke Research says that the only way to keep memories intact Is to lock 'em away and close the doors to countless years of past I guess that explains why the strangest things can conjure up the past And forgotten time will find its long way back

It doesn't matter, I just know I need more Cause I feel like I've been sleeping through the better part of this Laying dormant through an endless winter that doesn't even exist

It's gravity in an hourglass, responsible for the avalanche And the loudest silence that I've ever heard Memory clear as a bell, A story that I will try to tell Maybe this time without words

Homare Arisugawa :  Four

Maybe I'm hiding behind metaphor Maybe my heart needs to break to be sure One day I'll wear it all on my sleeve The insignificant with the sacred unique But I've fallen in love with a ghost I lost my balance when I needed it most And this blurry photograph is proof Of what I'm not sure but it feels like truth I'm stuck swimming in shadows down here It's been forever since I came up for air Flashlight in hand determined to find Authenticity only poetry could even begin to try to describe

What if we already are who we've been dying to become In certain light I can plainly see a reflection of magnificence Hidden in you, Maybe even in me

or Son

Show me Who I am and who I could be Initiate the heart within me 'til it opens properly

Slow down Start again from the beginning I can't keep my head from spinning out of control Is this what being vulnerable feels like? And I will try, try, try to breathe 'til it turns to muscle memory I'm only steady on my knees One day I'll stand on my own two feet And I'll run the risk Of being intimate with brokenness Through this magnifying glass I see a thousand finger prints On the surfaces of who I am

Azuma Yukishiro : Two

Tell me, is something wrong?  If something's wrong, you can count on me You know I'll take my heart clean apart if it helps yours beat It's okay if you can't find the words, Let me take your coat and this weight off of your shoulders

I know exactly how the rule goes Put my mask on first No, I don't want to talk about myself Tell me where it hurts I just want to build you up, build you up 'Til you're good as new And maybe one day, I will get around To fixing myself, too I don't even know where to start Already tired of trying to recall when it all fell apart I just want to love you, to love you, to love you well I just want to learn how, somehow to be loved myself

Or Six

What would it feel like to put this baggage down? If I'm being honest I'm not sure I'd know how I want to take shelter but I'm ready, ready to fight And somewhere in the middle I feel a little paralyzed But maybe I'm stronger than I realize I wanna believe - No, I choose to believe That I was made to become a sanctuary Fear won't go away but I can keep it at bay And these invisible walls just might keep us safe With a vigilant heart, I'll push into the dark And I'll learn to breathe deep and make peace with the stars Is that courage or faith to show up every day? To trust that there will be light, Always waiting behind even the darkest of nights

Guy : Mind

First, the ground rules get established: Memory is historically inaccurate. But repetition, repetition sings 'Til finally the melody is sacred, rooted, unchanged.

It overwhelms the nervous system, This fearful constant state of comparison. In our grey matter, all grey matters. An embarrassment of riches in our heads, We gravitate to black or white instead. We were designed to send mixed signals, One image made up of different pixels All subject to interpretation. 'Til binary systems, binary systems run And the vibrancy of everything becomes zeros and ones.

Patterns form and feel important, It's the first brush stroke of a self-portrait.

[star-six7]

I’ll Stand Up With You Forever

Andy Biersack x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Word Count: 1461

Request: Can you write an Andy Biersack imagine on a honeymoon?

A/N:  This is my longest one yet! I really enjoyed writing this; if you guys have any more requests for any band listed in my bio, please send them in!

Disclaimer: This is entirely a work of fiction. No part of this story is meant to be libel, slander, or in any way derogatory towards any character’s real life counterpart. I’m not delusional; I know that these characters are simply based off of a public persona and may not actually resemble the people behind those personas. Any additional characters that you do not recognize are entirely fictional, unless otherwise stated. And finally, if you got here by Googling yourself, whatever happens next is 100% on you.

You closed your eyes and sighed happily, settling back into your seat. The flight from Cincinnati to Maui was a long one, and you didn’t want to be jet-lagged all week. Today marked your first full day of being married to one Andrew Dennis Biersack, and it was also going to be the first day of your two-week long honeymoon in Hawaii. Needless to say, you were the happiest you had ever been. You replayed the highlights of your wedding (and the night after) as the plane taxied down the runway, smiling. It was an amazing feeling to know that you had the rest of your life to keep making those kinds of memories with Andy, and you couldn’t wait.

Andy couldn’t wait either, but even more so, he couldn’t wait for the plane to take off. Or land. Or both. He kept leaning over you to peer out the window. You wondered if his legs or his back felt cramped, given his height, but when you opened your eyes, he was grinning.

“What’s up?” You smiled back at him, raising an eyebrow.

“I can’t believe we’re finally married! I can’t believe we’re going on our honeymoon. Can you believe it? I can’t.”

You laughed quietly at his enthusiasm, glancing down at your own wedding band. “Are you sure you don’t want the window seat?” You asked him, gesturing at the setting sun.

“Why would I need the window seat when the best view is sitting right next to me?” He smirked.

You blushed, slightly giddy that he still managed to take your breath away after all these years. “Thank you,” you mumbled. “I’m gonna try and sleep now, okay? I wanna be awake for at least some of our honeymoon.”

“So… we’re not joining the Mile High Club?”

You groaned and covered your face with the in-flight magazine.

“Come on babe, don’t you want to get with an extremely handsome rockstar?” He winked exaggeratedly.

“Actually, yes, do you know any?” You lowered the magazine and grinned at him.

“I’m hurt,” he said, feigning disappointment. “But after years of knowing you, I am definitely not shocked.”

“Well,” you said, leaning your head back against the seat, eyes closed. “Go to sleep. We have the rest of our lives to try again.”

---

After twelve hours and some change, the plane touched down. You had managed to get a decent amount of sleep, even with Andy’s fidgeting and restlessness. However, taking off during a sunset and landing half a day later during the same one due to the time zones was enough to throw off anybody’s internal clock, and therefore, make them a bit grumpy.

You frowned as Andy led you to the rental car, luggage in tow. “Can’t we just check in at the hotel and go to bed? My body is telling me it’s six am!”

“Nope!” he said, grinning far too brightly for someone who hadn’t slept in almost twenty-four hours. “Can’t get off schedule!”

You sighed as he kissed your cheek and started humming lightly as he drove. While you had taken care of most of the smaller details of your actual wedding and reception, Andy had been in charge of the honeymoon. You had both decided on a destination, and you had given your input on some of the activities you were looking forward to (at least, those that took place outside of the bedroom), but Andy did the bulk of the work as far as making reservations and planning an itinerary. And Andy loved planning itineraries. 

Every trip you had gone on as a couple, Andy had meticulously outlined every day of it, almost down to every hour. This could be both a blessing and a curse, because while it was nice to have a plan, Andy was pretty insistent on sticking to it. You had joked before that he should plan the mission timelines for NASA. He just laughed and said that years of being in a far-traveling, highly successful rock band following a strict tour schedule had drilled it into him, and besides you were stuck with him, weren’t you? Yes, you thought now, looking back down at the ring on your finger, you were stuck with him, and you couldn’t be happier.

The jolt of Andy putting the car into park snapped you out of your reminiscing, as you looked around, taking in the restaurant he had pulled up to.

“Come on, I know this will make you feel better! I looked up the menu a few weeks ago, and I think you’ll love it!”

You just smiled, shaking your head. Of course he did. “You know I love you, right?”

“Of course I do. And you know I love you too.” He put his arm through yours and led you inside.

---

Andy was right, like always. Eating delicious food while looking out over a stunning view of the ocean did wonders to your mood, not to mention simply just talking and laughing with Andy and being with him. Soon, it was time to pick up the check and head back to the hotel.

You had parked in the basement lot of the building, but Andy grabbed your arm when you went to get the suitcases out of the back of the trunk.

“Wait,” he said, a playful look coming across his face. “We should do something first.”

“Huh? What about the schedule?” You edged out of his grasp. “I’m still in my plane clothes. And besides, don’t you wanna do something in our room?” You added a note of flirtation in your voice.

“No, it’s- I mean, yes! Yes, I wanna do bedroom activities, but-” And then he grabbed your hand and started sprinting towards the exit.

“Andy, what-” you tried, stumbling to keep up.

He just laughed and stopped to pick you up and swing you over his shoulder. “You’re too slow, come on!”

By this point, the sun had set over the island, but Andy navigated the dark path through the hotel grounds with ease. He skittered sideways through an open gate and down a sandy concrete walkway towards what you realized was the beach.

“Andrew! You better not be planning on throwing me in the water or I swear-”

“Good idea,” he laughed, “but no. You should take off your shoes.” He set you down on the sand.

You complied, as he did the same, and then you waded out into the surf with him. You watched Andy as he immediately began searching for shells to give you, knowing how much you loved to collect them. All of a sudden, the entirety of the past few days started to catch up with you all at once. While there wasn’t any scientific proof of fate, or soulmates, or anything like that, you couldn’t help but feel like every decision, every event, in both your life and Andy’s had led you to this exact moment. Standing knee deep in water, alone on the beach at night, with the moon shining down on the two of you as you tried not to get soaked by the incoming tide. Every disappointment and roadblock you had experienced snapped into place, and now you could appreciate them for where they had gotten you. You admired the way the moonlight glinted off Andy’s smile, the way his arms had felt around you moments ago, and the way his laugh sounded over the waves. You knew that there would certainly be more challenges in the course of your life, but you knew you could get through them with someone as kind, talented, smart, beautiful, and loving as Andy by your side.

Suddenly, you were pulled back into reality by the shock of ocean water down your front. Whirling to your right, you saw Andy standing next to you with the most see-through attempt of a look of innocence on his face. However, you couldn’t find it in you to pretend to be annoyed.

“Hey, so, if you missed it the first five times, I found you a-”

“Andy.” You cut him off. “Um. I know I only said it a million times yesterday, but… I really love you. And I’m so glad you’re in my life, forever now…”

Unwittingly, you felt yourself starting to tear up.

“Hey,” Andy said, moving closer, wrapping his arms around your waist and shoulders. “I know, I love you too, and you complete me. That’s kinda why we got married, remember?”

You chuckled, smiling up at him. “I’m glad that we’re having this moment and everything, but it’s getting cold…”

“You’re right,” he said, taking your hand in his. He glanced wistfully up at the hotel, a sly smile appearing on his face. “Maybe we should go take advantage of the honeymoon suite.”

A/N: Thank you for reading my work! If you enjoyed it, please comment and let me know what you liked about it or what your favorite part was! Also, feel free to send in requests! :)

[crispycrimebrulee]

🎄25 Days of HXH: Day 2: Leorio x Chestnuts🎄

The scent of myrrh and peppermint filled the house as you lit some candles, the gentle glow of the small flame giving a homey feeling to the dimly lit room. Walking over to the Christmas tree, you fixed some ornaments and tinsel that’d fallen off. Outside, the world looked precious and innocent, like a child on Christmas Eve, soft and full of joy waiting for gifts and Christmas day. Silken snow in small hills outside, a golden glow resting on them from overhead lamps in the streets. The lampposts were adorned with wreaths and lights, and nearby fences decorated with string lights as well. The entire neighborhood looked elegant; houses were decorated with lights outlining their houses and windows, faint golden and white glows lining a perfect frame into living rooms with Christmas trees, picturesque depictions of a classic Christmas, the entire street resembling a postcard of a small Christmas town in the Alps, perhaps. The neighborhood was quiet, registering a feeling that, despite having no true word, wrapped you with a feeling of nostalgia and calm, your heart creating a soothing rhythm within your chest, rendering your thoughts to reminisce of Christmas’ long since passed, and making your heart flutter thinking about Christmas’ yet to come. The Christmas Song by Nat King Cole

Taglist: @to-move-on-means-to-grow @lifescreams27 @twistedsmth @some-weeb-chick @dukinaxael @errorpeachy @demon-hugger @my-child-gaara @absolute-flaming-trash @yep-seeyalaterbranflakes

It was relatively late, 8pm, and the sky was dark and void, except for a few clouds, adding gray streaks to the sky above. Leorio was working a late night, yet you had a tendency to stay up for him, despite his objections to you staying up so late waiting for him. Sure, he’d voiced his genuine thoughts, finding it cute that you waited for him, but truly he was concerned about how much you were sleeping, and that it was very much okay if you went to bed when he was out late. You always declined, finding it to be no trouble waiting for him. He always brought something back for you, being a cookie, a small cake, a treat, a book or even a story when he couldn’t find anything physical. You always accepted whatever he brought for you, melting at the thought of him thinking of you throughout the day, to which when you confronted him about it, he blushed bright red and muttered something about how, of course he thinks of you, he loves you quite a lot. 

Strolling to the living room window, you leaned on the window sill, watching the occasional car pass by, the lights fading in and out. You almost missed Leorio’s car pulling into the driveway and you jumped up and ran to the front door, opening it without care for the cold, causing the candles in the back to dance from the small gust of wind. You waved to him, beaming ear to ear as he shuffled through some snow, making his way over to you. 

Seeing you with the door wide open, Leorio’s face was washed with concern.

“Jeez y/n close the door! You’re gonna get sick!” walking a little faster towards you in hopes that the door will be shut.

You could only giggle as you pulled him inside and shut the door, hugging him before he had a chance to set down his briefcase. He hugged you in return, letting his cheek rest against your head. You felt his heart flutter as you buried your face in his shoulder and sigh with content. 

“Miss me?” Leorio poked your side, hearing the taunting in his tone, making you look up at him, unafraid to hide it. You nodded, and he blushed, looking away from you, but not before placing a soft kiss on the top of your head. 

Pulling away from the hug, he set his briefcase down and walked over to the fireplace, looking at the pile of dry wood and shifted them around a bit with the fire poker. You watched him, occasionally glancing at him. He rarely uses the fireplace, always mentioning how it’s risky and if he falls asleep, it could be a hazard. 

“Hey y/n could you light the fire?” Leorio called out, walking towards the kitchen, pulling a small bag from his jacket pocket.

Humming a noise of acknowledgement you went on to find the lighter and fire starter, feeling slightly jilted about not having received a late night gift from Leorio. You had to shift some logs around so they fit nicely, and then you light the fire, slowly watching it come to life. The room had a soft orange glow, the scent of a good, cozy fire mixing with the scent of the candles, making you feel a bit drowsy. 

Leorio muttering about roasting things was what brought you out of your sleepy stance, piquing your interest, causing you to waddle over to him, peeking over his shoulder at the little bag on the counter. In his hand was a sizable bag of chestnuts and in the other hand, his phone, instructions on how to roast chestnuts in a fireplace written on the screen. Was...this the late night gift? 

Clearing your throat, Leorio turned to you, handing you a chestnut. You turned it this way and that, tapped it on the counter and shook it, hearing something inside.

“Uhh...how do I eat this…” muttering as you shake it again.

“Well we roast it first...that’s what google says.” Leorio answers, turning towards you, “I wanted to roast them with you...thought they’d make an interesting gift.”

You laughed a little, rolling the chestnut in your palm. He wanted to roast chestnuts with you, over the fireplace. As late night gifts go, this was the most interesting by far. Nothing short of classically Christmas-y either, seeing as multiple songs mention roasting chestnuts over an open fire. 

Grabbing tinfoil, you made a small bowl and poured the chestnuts in it, careful to close it with a small air pocket. Leorio looked at you, then at the tinfoil bowl, then back at you.

“How’d you know to do that?” poking at the bowl, rustling the chestnuts.

You shrugged, figuring there was no other way to roast them in the fireplace, seeing as it was relatively small, and using a frying pan or skillet would be dangerous. 

Walking over to the now impressive fire, you (somewhat haphazardly, seeing as you had no intention of sticking your hand in the flames) tossed the tinfoil ball in, and properly fixed it with the fire poker. 

Sitting down on the couch, you swung your legs up and nuzzled into the corner, patting the spot next to you for Leorio to join you. Of course, he obliged, slipping an arm around you as he watched the fire, the flames hazily reflecting in his eyes. You nestled yourself into the crook of his shoulder, making yourself comfortable on him. 

Eyes glued to the fireplace, the only thing that would break the silence was the fire crackling away, the occasional pop and spark of the flames bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Hmm...anything interesting happened today?” you asked, glancing at Leorio. 

Leorio sat there, thinking for a minute.

“A kid came in with an action figure stuck up his nose. And the same lady keeps coming in for flu shots. I’ve seen her 3 times the past 3 weeks…” Leorio pinched the bridge of his nose, exasperation written all over his face.

“Is that a problem?” looking up at him. Of course, multiple shots is indeed an issue, but you’d indulge him a little bit.

“Of course it’s an issue! You can’t keep taking shots like that! You only need the one once a year! Your body isn’t meant for the same shot in 3 weeks time, 3 times!” Leorio was waving his free hand about, clearly bothered by this lady’s actions.

“Maybe she’s coming to see you~” you sang, poking his ribs.

Leorio looked at you, flustered and incredulous.

“No way…” looking away from you, although you could see him considering this revelation silently.

“I mean, it’s hard to ignore such a cute doctor. I’d come to the doctors more often if it were you!” poking his ribs again, grinning.

“Ah hey cut it out, that’s...no…” Leorio was apple red at this rate, looking at everything but you.

Compliments always seemed to fluster him, and he never knew how to respond to them, and you took full advantage of being able to turn your boyfriend into a mushy mess with simple words and genuine compliments in his favor. 

“Maybe I have some competition now hmm?” poking him again, laughing all the while.

“Absolutely not!” he yelled, finally looking at you, “other people really...can’t compete with you…” trailing off again, the statement causing him to blush furiously and look away once more. 

Beaming, you pressed a kiss to his temple, making him huff lightly and quickly give you one in return. 

Completely distracted with Leorio’s antics and your own, you'd forgotten about the chestnuts roasting away, until you could smell them, sweet notes filling the air, but with a hint of...slightly burnt?

Practically flying out of your seat, you took a log mover and managed to take the chestnuts out of the fire, setting them down on a metal plate that held extra firewood. Running off to the kitchen to get a fork, you came back moments later, prying the tinfoil open to reveal slightly over roasted nuts, but still probably edible. Leorio came by you seconds later only to poke at the still hot chestnuts in the makeshift bowl. 

A few minutes later, they were cool enough to be peeled and eaten, but still warm enough for them to be enjoyable. Taking a few, you retreated to the couch in your original spot, and handed some to Leorio who inspected them before struggling to peel them, making him grumble in frustration. Peeling yours, you handed it to him and removed the one he was struggling with, and peeled that one too. Nibbling at it, it was soft, and incredibly sweet, but not in the sickening sense. It was sweeter than most nuts you’ve had, and softer as well. A little content hum left you as you enjoyed yours, and Leorio seemed quite happy as well. 

Spending the rest of the evening with Leorio, curled up on the couch indulging in a classic Christmas treat. Inside, warm and cozy with only soft conversation and comments, and the hiss of the fire to keep the silence at bay. Not that the silence was bad, per se. The silence was quaint, pulling together that serene feeling at the start of a perfect Christmas season. 

[draw-you-coward]

“Till death do us part. And forever until the end of eternity.” pls? For sweet Trahearne and Roza?:3

ohh this turned out longer than i thot ;;3;; hope u like it tho! might post it as a second chapter in that fic since it could fit nicely

~*~

Roza’s step is silent, as it always is. Trahearne only knows he has come to visit when Harley leaps off his lap with an elegant swish of her tail and patters off, mewling plaintively.

“Hello, princess,” he hears from the kitchen. “I’ve brought treats for you, like I promised. Yes, I have.”

Trahearne shakes his head with a smile, putting his current crafting project aside and rising from his large armchair (Roza says it is a rocking chair, but he isn’t certain it is supposed to move like that). He has protested before, without much intent, about giving Harley food, since he still cannot find anything resembling a litterbox. But Roza has only pointed out that she is finding things to eat anyhow, and it serves little purpose to “starve her of deserved treasures,” as he puts it. Trahearne does not even know where he is buying cat treats from.

He reaches the kitchen and leans against the doorframe, watching Roza pamper his overpampered cat with a wide, foolish smile he cannot keep from tugging at his cheeks. “Good morning.”

“Good afternoon, dear lover.” Roza puts Harley down on the counter, and she rubs against his arm. “You are depriving her, I see. It is a good thing I am here.”

Trahearne doesn’t know whether he’s serious or not, even when he picks up the bag he has dropped on the floor and brushes past him with a wink. “I have something to show you,” he calls over his shoulder.

Trahearne joins him on the couch as he opens his bag and rifles through it, ducking his head to peer inside. “Did you get me food as well?”

“I am your treat. Do not get greedy,” Roza scolds, although it is with a flash of teeth. He pulls out a small scroll, and pauses. After a moment, he hands it to Trahearne.

“I do not know if I want this, but if you like it you can keep it.”

It is an odd statement, coupled with an equally odd discovery: the scroll is of sylvari craftsmanship, made from finely-woven pith turned light from a few years of aging. Trahearne unrolls it curiously, and reveals a coloured ink portrait of a sylvari, with a young smile and deep indigo bark. His branches bloom into brilliant violet foliage, and his blue eyes seem to sparkle from an unseen light.

“It’s beautiful.” Trahearne glances up to find Roza watching him intently. “Did you paint it?”

Roza barks out a sharp laugh, and Trahearne, although not one to laugh at someone else’s expense, lets himself smile. Roza is many wondrous things, but artistically gifted is not one of them. Trahearne had a small collection of hideous painted pots in his old office that proved it.

“No,” Roza replies. He nudges his chin towards the scroll. “Do you recognize him?”

Trahearne looks at it again. His first thought is that it reminds him of Dagonet, back when they were saplings, but the physiology is wrong. Large eyes, long ears, a thin, hooked nose, a segmented pattern outlining his cheeks…

Trahearne looks at Roza in growing surprise, and then, at his slight smile, back at the scroll. No, it can’t be. But… “This is you. The resemblance is uncanny.”

Roza nods. Trahearne holds the portrait up next to his head, still half disbelieving, and he rolls his eyes but holds still. Side by side like this, there is no denying it. That is his Roza smiling at him from the scroll, steeped in colour and joy he does not have.

“How?” Or perhaps why? Had he commissioned this?

Roza sighs, squeezing his largest branch and slumping against the couch. “Long story short, there is a seer, living in the Grove, who is very skilled with inks and paints. Their life’s work—ah, Wyld Hunt—is to document our kind. Due to their connection to the Dream, they sometimes paint the faces they see in there. I had… a thought, so I went and asked them a few questions. And lo and behold,” he gestures loosely to the scroll.

Trahearne runs his thumb over the material, staying shy of touching ink. “That is amazing—I have never heard of anything like it before. So this is… what you looked like before you awakened?”

Roza shrugs. “I do not know; my memory of the Dream is hazy at best, and there are no mirrors there. But presumably, yes.”

“Amazing,” Trahearne repeats, staring at the portrait once more. Roza only looks at him.

“Is that what you think?”

His tone is what makes Trahearne glances up at him. It is worryingly difficult to read, as is his expression, and for the first time he considers why Roza wanted to show him this.

“I think is a lovely painting,” he answers honestly, “But it is not the Roza I know.”

Roza’s lip pulls back in a wry smile. “It is the Na Rós you never got to. A perfect, unmarred sylvari.”

Trahearne frowns in concern, touching his wrist. Roza’s eyes flicker with movement, and although they are pitch black instead of brilliant blue, they are familiar, and Trahearne would know them in the most turbulent storm on the darkest night. This is his Roza. The painting is a stranger.

“He is everything I can never be,” Roza says simply. “Look at the light in his smile. Would you not prefer someone who could laugh with all their heart?”

“No,” says Trahearne.

Those eyes he loves fix on him, large and dark. He used to think they were vacant, unknown, even eerie. Now he can navigate through their depths with only his heart to guide him.

“He is a beautiful thing, so young and happy.” Roza leans closer. “Are you not drawn to beauty?”

“There is beauty in fragments,” Trahearne replies. He traces the pattern on Roza’s cheek, carved from colourless bark, with his forefinger. “In mended shards glued back together.”

Roza smiles without humour. “Are you calling me broken pottery?”

“Do not make me tear this painting to make a point.”

Roza makes a noise like a laugh, more of a hiss. He surges forward to kiss Trahearne, wanting for—love, confirmation, a promise—whatever he is searching for. Trahearne kisses him until he calms, until the shoulder beneath his hand slumps, until Roza’s emotion bleeds out with his breath.

“I am sorry,” is the first thing he utters when they part. He bows his head against Trahearne’s neck, as if too cowed to meet his eye.

Trahearne tilts his head upwards. “Do not be.”

“Do you ever wish that—”

“No.” Trahearne doesn’t let him finish his sentence. “And no, and,” he pretends to consider. “No.”

Roza grins weakly. “You must get tired of me sometimes.”

“I think I already answered that.” Trahearne leans down to kiss him once more, and meets lips that are soft and yielding. “Dearheart, know this. I will not be tired of you when you are at your best, nor at your worst, nor at any point in between. Did I not tell you that I weighed all my odds and chose you? I will continue to choose you, my dear Roza, for forever. Past your fleeting life. Until the end of eternity.”

Roza hides his face into his neck, the long bridge of his nose a hard line below his ear. His chest quavers lightly, and Trahearne strokes his back in slow, soothing motions.

The scroll lies to his right, forgotten. It is a lovely painting of a stranger. Perhaps one day, if he is willing, he will ask Roza to commission a portrait of himself. It would be nice to have one to hang up.

~*~

thank u so much!! <33

send me a soft starter?

[algernoninwonderland]

“Porter sur toi un nouveau regard”: basic outlines and preparatory notes

What better way to celebrate a fic being completed than me releasing some of the basic notes I took while planning it? Here they are, with a few additions.

 It all started as a prompt I got on Discord, the very simple “love at first sight” and I wasn’t quite sure what to do with it at first, but the idea of sight stuck with me. Are your first impressions the right ones? Can you learn to see someone a certain way or another? It’s ultimately a story about learning to see other people and yourself, isn’t it?

Which meant I had to take a certain point of view, because an omniscient floating eye is emotionally detached. Character POV may have a limited scope, but that may help empathise with them. This is a story about Kagami, so it was only fair for Kagami to be the centre of it.

Chapter 1: 

“How does Kagami truly feel about Marinette before Ikari Gozen”? 

While Marinette sees the two of them as rivals, that rivalry is one-sided, and Kagami wouldn’t take that girl seriously. She’s simply annoying. 

Kagami is a lonely character, who genuinely wants to make friends, still, and she’s anything but cool or smooth. She doesn’t know the other characters the way the audience does, at all.

Tomoe Tsurugi sucks.

Switching from “Dupain-Cheng” to “Marinette Dupain-Cheng” to “Marinette” would be a nice way to keep the reader hooked. Lots of tiny details that’ll come back later on!

Comphet. 

Lots of comphet already. What you “should” like, a calculated, conscious choice.

A few jabs at the show because why not.

Chapter 2:

Filling gaps in characterisation and timeline to make sure that everything hurts later on! Including pre-Adrigami. People thought the paperwork between Tomoe and Gabriel was a marriage contract, not quite, but an arranged relationship? Definitely from Tomoe’s side.

Are Kagami and Marinette already going on dates when they visit the city together all on their own? Isn’t that the true sapphic experience.

Also, the promise of them going to the terrace rooftop on sunny days! It’ll come back later on.

The Bike Motive. Marinette driving her forward.

“Your hair is beautiful” but make it much gayer. 

I hate the André scene in the finale, it sucks and it’s awful for everyone. It should be awful for both Marinette and Kagami. Comphet. So much comphet. 

Kagami’s impression of brokenness is something we’ll come back to over and over again.

Adrien doesn’t notice because he’s Adrien. The kiss. Nothing.

“K-Kagami!” End with a cliffhanger for more suffering.

As a side note, I made myself cry writing this chapter.

Chapter 3:

Everything hurts. Everything. Hurts. 

Identity reveals don’t solve anything, they still fail, and Marinette still isn’t willing to show herself to Kagami, still hiding behind a facade.

Just because Marinette understands things a little better doesn’t mean it hurts any less

They are both lying to each other and themselves and they don’t even realise it.

“Fixing the brokenness” through comphet.

Nothing is solved at all.

Falling asleep on a chaise longue plus blanket

Chapter 4:

Life as a socialite in Paris, concerts and restaurants, wearing clothes she hasn’t chosen

The Adrien routine, pulling chairs and flowers

It’s all miserable still, lots of “shoulds”

Fencing competition, fencing competition ahead. Tomoe is a terrible parent and a terrible coach.

Text conversations with Marinette, overdoes joy with emojis

The Bike Motive Returns, with more feelings, Marinette’s almost desperate gestures

(Kagami as the only person she can fully confide in, but still won’t)

An early birthday present… But Kagami is born in November, Marinette is a mess and so is her room.

Hug and first hint of reciprocated Marigami? Just the happiness of having someone like Kagami who admires her work as Marinette.

Falling asleep on a chaise longue plus blanket, part deux.

KAGAMI IN A SUIT!!!

Kisses on the cheek are really common in France, not Japan. A heavy kiss.

Dress or suit?

Marinette is a mess, texts at night. Difference between Adrien and Marinette’s texts, Adrien’s more self-centred.

No sense of space in Tokyo, jet lag and closed house. Closed spaces. 

Chapter 5:

I’m going to write a full chapter about sabre fencing and people will love it

Lots of sneaky (or not so sneaky) GL and Yuri manga/anime references. Make Juri Arisugawa part of the Jury.

All the locations are real

Marinette overdoes it again, Kagami can’t tell.

Kagami’s technique dissecting her opponents. She is a champion already.

Teach the readers about fencing whilst describing it. Have opponents be challenging in specific, understandable ways.

She chooses the suit. What even is subtlety.

As a side note: it was a really fun one to write.

Chapter 6:

Marinette internship phone call, Nathalie’s plan. No way Gabriel would accept to work with a kid. Flirting, Kagami as a muse?

The Foucault chapter. Everything is a prison. Restaurant, vertical stripes on wall as prison bars, the relationship, the self-locking car. This is no Utena car.

Everything is wrong, including the food

Adrigami friendship, much better than Adrigami romance. Rose/Chair. She doesn’t hate him at all, she just doesn’t love him… It wouldn’t work, she’s gay and he’s a liar.

Self-imposed gestures of affection.

Do not describe the kisses, they’re just a thing she has to do

Marinette is a mess, Ladybug is a mess, hell imagery, falling down a hole, almost dying. We are in the car with Kagami and we want to do something, anything, and we can’t.

Chapter 7:

The first step to things being alright again is to admit that they aren’t alright now

Nighttime conversation, Kagami letting Ladybug in

Marinette finally showing herself bare to Kagami but still tries not to until the dam breaks. Being a hero is miserable. Being the Guardian when you are a child with no guidance or support is miserable. Kagami as the only person she can trust.

Botched Lukanette date?

“I’m just so tired.”

“You are not a failure, you are so courageous, a genius fashion designer and my best friend”

(Additional note: I cried writing that passage)

Sharing the burden: help in more than just words.

“I hate that you have to see me like that.”

But showing your vulnerability and still being accepted as true love

Kagami truly sees Marinette now.

“Tutorship” and Tomoe being awful but excuse works. Help is material, homework, tidying up the room together.

“Stop feeling guilty about letting other people help you.”

Flirting hidden behind jokes, Kagami lying to herself. Way to ruin the mood.

Marigami baking.

Harlem 88, postal workers, acab

Watching television on the same couch, or rather watching Marinette watch television.

Umbrella scene with polka dots.

Kagami fully aware of her feeling and afraid of them, afraid that Marinette might feel the same

Chapter 8:

more fencing, Kagami absolutely rules

Worrying about Marinette alone with Gabriel, rightfully so, but can’t say that out loud

Stereotypical outdated Japanese-ness, Kagami can’t conform, doesn’t know how to put on her houmongi on her own. Tomoe and paradoxes, her daughter is both weak and “too muscular” at the same time.

The Palais Royal. The Buren columns are very climbable.

Gabriel, “quite miraculous”. Testing the waters, Kagami doesn’t notice. 

Jealousy when Adrien speaks of Marinette?

Ratatouille reference! Tatou. 

Tomoe playing the role of the exotic Japanese to be accepted. 

Drunk parents, drunk on power and self-satisfaction. 

Adrien’s kiss, forced to return it. 

Fear that Adrien might become Marinette’s muse

The bike motive once more

Barkk’s power is tracking magical signatures, each is different from the other

Marinette taking control over her own life, making plans to stop Hawk Moth instead of passively waiting for each attack, 

“She was never broken. She is in love with another girl.”

Marinette is in love with her too, but is ready to wait.

Chapter 9:

Adrien IS Chat Noir, up to the entitlement and his way of being physically affectionate. Stay true to canon and canon implications.

Adrigami/DJWifi double date, Alya means well but doesn’t know everything

Wordbuilding: of course the Ladyblog isn’t the only website ever, bad rival, Daily Bugle pun.

Not hating someone doesn’t mean you should be with them.

Hints of Adrigami friendship again, relief at avoiding romance.

Food at Kagami’s, cooker, formally perfect but not personal

Marinette and Barkk, closer to their goal

The Turtle Pearl bracelet: a shield, a great way to show feeling of danger, symbol of love

Kagami is the one to kiss Marinette on the cheek this time

Chapter 10:

Tomoe is a bad instructor episode 100

In which Adrien proves himself to truly be also Chat Noir, i.e. unable to understand personal barriers and entitlement. Still Kagami’s POV. He doesn’t think he’s doing anything wrong, insistence≠playfulness. certainly won’t apologise

The bike motive again. Scenic road and conversation

Going to Orsay, definitely a date!

Chat Noir was moody during akuma crisis because of course he was.

Chapter 11:

Adrigami “break”, Adrien sucks at admitting that he’s anything but perfect and being confronted with that.

Kagami bluntness.

Adrigami isn’t about Adrigami, it’s about the Tsurugi family’s status and Tomoe terrified of consequences. Attacking the room instead of Kagami herself.

The Turtle Pearl glows when wearer feels endangered or imminent danger

The museum pictures, the two of them together

Aquarium date?

“Voice of reason” isn’t the voice of reason at all.

Barkk is in the bag, smells everything

Chapter 12:

Kagami as Tomoe’s messenger

Agreste mansion as a mausoleum, setting up the geography, security cameras, cold. Painting of Émilie, goal is near

Nathalie being extremely good at pretending she didn’t just knock that kid unconscious months ago, she’s awful and it’s great.

Marinette internship, Gabriel wears a bowtie… Resembles a butterfly.

Barkk in the bag, smells everything.

Stressful phone call, feels feverish, it’s him and that’s undeniable.

Marinette the detective.

“Thanks for being there for me”

“Thank you for trusting me so much”

Having dinner with Hawk Moth, it’s awful and stressful

No more chair/rose

Adrien is miserable but not aggressive. Building up to final fight

Chapter 13:

Meet the Dupain-Chengs, short, awkward, sweet moment

Marinette’s room, perfectly clean

From creepy stalker to detective, without downplaying the former or overplaying the latter

The two are complementary, very concrete things, 

The plan: catch Hawk Moth red-handed, take it outside and expose him to the world

How the Kwami Pearls work: just like the Miraculouses themselves, feeding off the host, only more brutal. Marinette trying to reassure Kagami

Re-explain Turtle Pearl and other powers, illusion, thunder, time-rewind and portal

Gabriel owns original Degas painting since they are both assholes

Adrien/Chat still not great at all

Ice-cream but no biphobia/lesbophobia this time, just a regular shop suggested by Juleka.

The Pont des Arts, no more locks, just like in real life.

The confession, the kiss: consent and everything is right, but also desperate. Marinette really wants to do it well.

Longg is back, also, hype

Side note: I cried writing this one.

Chapters 14-15

Ryuko infiltrating the mansion, all in the details

I hate that Hawk Moth’s lair is an actual real physical space in the show, but if this needs to be material, then so be it. He was allowed to turn his house into that because he got help from the Mayor/Audrey.

Chat Noir can’t fight, near breakdown.

Nathalie knew. Remake of first fight, only Ryuko has clear upper hand.

Having missiles in your house isn’t a good idea.

The Turtle Pearl serves its purpose at last, 

Gabriel mostly defeats himself on his own, hubris, the whole extent of his power dynamic with Nathalie

Going back to the Champ de Mars, 

Teamwork, taking the butterfly down. Chat Noir rejects his father entirely, cataclysm-ed akuma.

The mansion again, entirely destroyed, paintings of Émilie burning. Spell book and tablet recovered.

Chapter 16:

Taking the big bad down is useless if you don’t take down the power structures that allowed him to strive in the first place. Killing Voldemort only solves that much.

Discovering it all on a phone screen, shut-in

ACAB no matter your gender

They are just following orders and happy to do so, and Gabriel still has some power over them

Tomoe plays by the rules, even though these rules are awful

Kagami’s anger

Chapter 17:

Aquarium date, aquarium date! Fish facts

Kagami’s anger still, doesn’t die out, render it through environment and senses

Water as a healing motive, fish facts

Hot outside - cold inside, ice-cream

Kagami nearly blows out because of kids after being slightly soothed

The power of love is strong but it can’t solve everything.

Additional note: someone in the comments asked me if Kagami had ASD, and the answer is, I don’t know, you tell me! If you think she is on the spectrum, then she is!

Addressing Kagami being closeted, because there’s simply no other way. This isn’t good. Having to live hidden out of fear isn’t good..

The bike motive, + ice cream

Kagami uses the word “lesbian” for the first time to describe her own experience.

Chapter 18:

Tomoe has feelings and these feelings suck. Under the guise of rules, abuse.

Kagami fighting back.

Power is material, through connections and money, nothing that can’t be bought

Kagami’s first demonstration, don’t make it too violent but still ACAB

Nino and Alya as reporters, Julerose and Luka seasoned protestors

The Palais de Justice’s gilded gates are closed vs the crowd

Marinette using her powers for something other than Hawk Moth, strong stance but also still a 15 yo kid’s understanding of the situation

Chapters 19-20:

No tanabata because Tomoe is terrible

The rooftop terrace at last, more Marigami wholesomeness

Dupain-Cheng house vs Tsurugi house, the furniture and dishes, the meal, more Tom and Sabine

Marinette has been cut from her Chinese heritage, exploring that (callback to Mandarin app, chapter 1) and bitterness of it

Adrien moving on in England, still Plagg with him, he’ll become a rich prep boy

Marinette as a Guardians, her own spell book

Duusuu is devouring Émilie’s soul and neither Marinette nor Kagami knows

Françoise Dupont at night, fencing classes, Marinette moves like Ladybug

The future: it is bright but bittersweet, let’s talk about it together

And there was only one bed

Oh, to cuddle with your girlfriend in her bed for the first time

Watching the sun rise together, calm breakfast

Side note: I also cried writing this one.

Chapter 21, epilogue

A new beginning

Kagami turning her back on her mother almost entirely

The bike motive, but Kagami no longer needs Marinette to show her the way now

New school, familiar faces but not only

An ordinary bracelet for Marinette, but proof of love despite everything

End on their hands.

[kibastray]

Casse-Cou (DareDevil x MLB)

Intro

Everyone knows about Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the baker's daughter, and eventual seamstress. 

But what if I were to tell you there are other versions of the baker’s daughter that are just as great in other professions? Sometimes she is a dancer, an olympian, or an everyday girl. Countless variations of the same lovely bubbly girl.

The story I want to tell you about is of one version that is a young soon-to-be lawyer. Open rival to French mob Milieu. Both in the courts and behind her black mask. Everyone will come to know the woman without fear. The Cat of the Devil. The DareDevil.

Preface (Chap 1?)

Marinette wasn’t always blind. When she was younger, she could see just as well as any other kid. 

Marinette even remembers the day it happened. She remembers it better than she does some colors nowadays.

It was a day like any other for the Dupain-Cheng family. Actually that wasn’t true, it wasn’t a normal day. It was a slow day for the bakery and Tom and Sabine decided to close early and take a young Marinette to a day out to the park. 

The family enjoyed their time in the sun during the nice late spring day. From swings to sandcastles, from running through the grass to a small picnic in the park. 

It was a great day in her opinion. And looking back, Marinette would say it was a good day to be the last she saw.

A car crash on their way back home changed the fate of the Dupain-Chengs from that day on. 

It was almost cartoonish in its execution. Two drivers were not paying attention to the lights and crashed into each other. Causing the truck behind one of them to swerve to avoid slamming into the back of them. The truck struck into a hydrant instead. That hydrant went flying into and ricocheting off a light pole and crashing into the back of a semi-tanker. 

That tanker was holding a noxious concoction not safe for humans in any manner of the imagination. When the hydrant hit its side, and pierced it, it caused the toxin within to spill out. 

That spillage arced into a horrid rainbow, and stuck the poor young girl in the face. 

It flooded her vision, burning its way from the Cornea all the way to the Optic Nerve.

As it did, Marinette cried out in pain while her world went black in more ways than one.

When she woke up, she was told what had happened and how the accident affected her. 

The doctors told the family that she would be blind for the rest of her life.

Her parents were shocked, while Marinette was heartbroken. 

She ended up crying herself to sleep after that. 

She woke up later that night to a percussive beeping. It was so loud that she had to cover her ears. 

The beeping was intense even with her hands covering her ears, but after a while the noise became manageable. And once she was able to manage it without flinching she realized something amazing. 

She could see! Well, maybe not see but she could make out the outlines of things around her. 

To her adolescent mind it was like a coloring book without the colors added. 

It didn’t take her long to notice that her other senses were heightened too. 

Her face itched from the medical tape covering her eyes. When she brought her hands up to inspect the cloth she found out that she could feel each individual thread. Her sense of touch was so fine tuned that she could feel when there was a missed stitch.

It was all overwhelming to her, with all of her senses overclocked the way they were. 

She was close to a panic attack until she smelled something familiar.

The smell came from a small object next to her. It was a small teddy she had brought with her to the park. 

It smelled like her parents. It smelled like her home and the bakery. It was so clear to her she nearly forgot she was still at the hospital before she was lulled back to sleep by the small plush comfort. 

~~~~~~

The next day the doctor told the family what they would need for Marinette’s new life. They did go on to explain that Marinette’s other senses would get stronger to compensate for the lack of sight. 

Everyone understood that. The adults understood it was supposed to take time for her body to adjust. The baker’s daughter even use that explanation as to why everything was much MORE than it was before. 

But what everyone didn’t know is that horrid concoction may have taken her eyesight but it heightened all her other senses to a superhuman degree. And that it took hold much sooner than what they expected. 

Marinette still had to stay a few extra days in the hospital to make sure she didn't get sick from the accident and to make sure the chemical burns around her eyes didn’t get infected. 

While she waited to go home she became familiar with her new enhanced senses. 

The doctors and nurses noticed but didn’t connect her small requests as anything worth of note. 

It was always small things like “Could you stop the beeping? It’s really loud.” talking about the heartbeat monitor, or “Can you change my bandages? They are very scratchy.” Referring to her bandages. 

When she left the hospital, she had fresh and silky bandages, a silenced heartbeat monitor, and a room that smelled more like bread than antiseptic. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took awhile for Marinette to fully bounce back from the whole ordeal. 

There were good moments: The local defence attorneys that would frequent the shop took a liking to her and told her all about how they defended other people’s innocents and stood for justice.

The blind girl was always enraptured by their stories, and had a new profession in mind for her future. She asked her parents if she could be a lawyer when she grew up, and even asked if they could get her a law book for a birthday. Even though it was well above her reading level neither parent could deny her with how cutely, and innocently there 6 (maybe 9) year old requested the book.

There were bad moments: The first time she actually shared her new abilities with anyone didn’t end well. 

Her friend at the time, Chloe, had been upset about something but was hiding it from everyone. When Marinette asked what was wrong, Chloe did her best to hide the waver in her voice and told her friend she was fine. With how in tune she was, Marinette, easily saw past the lie and asked why her friend was lying. Taken aback Chloe got defensive and angry at being read so easily. 

Unfortunately Marinette lost a friend that day. The confrontation helped her understand not everyone would appreciate her new abilities. From then on she kept them a secret that she would never really share with any other human.

It took over a year, almost two, before she was back to anything resembling normal. And her parents were happy to share the day things officially became normal once more. 

Even if it wasn’t as celebrated as it was in America when Halloween came around Marinette dressed like ‘Lady Justice.’ 

Roman style clothes, exaggerated bandages over her eyes, a cane in place of a sword, she even cared around the scales. It was on that holiday that Tom and Sabine celebrated their daughter reaching equilibrium. They took many pictures and shared the day with her. 

‘Lady Justice’ is still one of Marinette’s favorite things to dress up for Halloween, and it turned into the family’s favorite holiday. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later in the year, in the same park that changed her life years before, Marinette found herself trying to find someone that had piqued her interest for a while now. 

She couldn’t explain it if you asked but there was something about the elderly man that was THERE where as it wasn’t with other people. 

She hadn’t encountered him directly yet. It was always in passing: coming, going, staying in one spot, or leaving. Whatever she was doing he was doing the opposite. And she knew it was him that was giving off that… whatever it was. 

It intrigued her and she didn’t know why. 

Today was the day that she got the courage to talk to him and ask what his deal was. 

It was well timed too. He had just got to the park and sat at a bench to feed the birds.

“May I?” she asked when she got close enough. 

“Oh?” he was quiet for a moment, most likely taking in her appearance. Her normal everyday apparel was nothing eye-catching; it was her cane and glasses that got the most attention. 

It only took that moment of silence for him to understand her condition before he spoke again, “Of course, young miss.” 

He quickly moved over to give her room to sit. Whether it was out of pity or courtesy she could never tell. 

She stayed quiet for a while just sitting next to him. 

Being this close to him was a bit overwhelming. Whatever it was about the elderly man took a bit to get used to. And once she got over the overwhelming sense she spoke.

“Why do you feel different from everyone else?” She had tilted her head, half facing him, in a way she learned to help people understand she was talking to them, them while keeping an ear out to hear them still. 

“I feel different from other people?” He asked. He sounded curious rather than put out by such a strange question.

“Yeah,” She nods. “I don’t know how to describe it, but there is something about you.” She pauses trying to come up with the right words. 

“And what would that be?” He genuinely wanted to know.

“It’s like you are in the center of a bubble. I don’t know what to call it other than that.” 

She goes on “It feels like a fluffy blanket that came out of the dryer and is all staticy.”

Fu watched the girl try and explain what ever it was about him that she couldn’t understand with a raised brow. He had an idea of what she was talking about but didn’t want to say anything yet. Instead he just watches her try and suss it out. 

“Sigh, it feels like…” She huffs,  “You are there even if you are standing far away.” 

“It feels like you could protect anyone if you wanted to.”

It wasn’t the word Fu was looking for but she practically named the very Kwami he was connected to. (he was looking for her to say magic)

“You are a very smart (may need to change that) girl.” he states. 

“And as to why I feel different from other people, that is difficult to explain.”

He looks her over again, “I would like to ask you how you even noticed. Not to sound rude but are you not blind?” 

“Most people can’t tell me apart from any other senior citizen, even if I were right in front of them standing on my head.”

She chuckles at that. “Truth is blind and she isn’t fooled by what people want her to see. People say, I am like that a little too.” (change that phrase) It was a catch phrase that the defense attorneys said enough around her that she had picked up. 

“That has a very nice turn of phrase to it.” Fu said, thrumming his chin. “What would you say if I told you it was magic?”

She looks at him full on. 

Fu can’t help but wonder how she can look like she is judging him without being able to see him. 

Marinette tries to find out if he is lying or not. Listening to his voice, his heartbeat but neither tell her he is being deceitful. 

She hums, “That would be hard to believe, but you aren’t lying.” (probably need to change this too)

“I would currently hope I am not. Otherwise I would just a crazy old coot instead of the wise old man I try and portray myself to be.” 

Fu makes a decision with what he is going to do.

“Wayzz, would you mind helping me explain this to her?”

With a surprise introduction, and an explanation from Fu and Wayzz, Fu takes Marinette on as an apprentice in the magical ways of the order. As a way to hone her abilities to detect magic.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Fu later meets the Dupain-Chengs and tells them that he could help their daughter with her condition through meditation. 

Her parents agree to Fu and his kind mannerisms. 

Once at Fu’s house Marientte meets the other kwami. 

She has a strong connection to the two main kwami, Tikki and Plagg. 

As much as she likes Tikki and could see herself getting along with the creation deity, Plagg is far more lax and pushes all the right buttons to egg her into listening to her more chaotic impulses. 

A small list of things he has convinced her to do that the others know about: 1) lay down and enjoying the sun in strange places when ever she can. 2) sharing snacks with him and/or getting him cheese anytime she could 3) pushing her to help out her attorney friends (which was a little strange until he explained how). by helping them by listening to their clients and outing all the lies they tell (that explains it).

And all other manner of things that helped her relax or caused a bit of chaos.

He did convince her one thing that the others don’t know about: Taking his miraculous out during the night for a nice run every now and then. 

Which by itself isn’t bad and would have been put in the other list of things he has convinced her to do. But, she ended up coming across one of the mobsters from the Milieu that had escaped justice and got of scot free from the charges he was facing. She ended up fighting him and leaving him for the cops to find the following day.

Needless to say they both kept that night and all others she took his miraculous out for the night a secret from Fu and the other Kwami.

Overall though he was the little devil on her shoulder that helped balance out her more justice seeking and law abiding personality. 

He would always call her one of his ‘kittens’ and she would call him ‘a little devil.’ And an off handed comment during one of her nights out gets her the name of “The Cat of the Devil.” (note: The news does call her this as well as “The woman without fear” and “DareDevil” that takes on the mob and its underlings)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chap 1 (start of it at least)

Marinette is given Plagg’s miraculous when Fu needs help getting back the butterfly miraculous. 

Fu ends up giving Tikki to a nice young man that would be a good partner for his young apprentice. 

When Paris and France first get to see the miraculous duo, it is from the Ladyblog (crap I didn’t think of a different name for Alya’s blog) during the ‘Stone Heart’ akuma attack. 

Mister Bug (gawd I don’t like the kwami!swap names but coudn’t think of a different one) as a blond young man, covered in red and black spandex. His chest, shoulders, and outer thighs are covered in red with black polka dots. While the rest of him is covered in black. He has a domino mask that is red with black polka dots. 

Marinette, That Cat of the Devil, is covered in black synthetic leather with accents of green here and there. The leather goes all the way up her neck and lines her chin line. Her mask covers more of her face, starting at her cheeks and going all the way to her hairline and wraps around her face following her sideburns down to connect to the rest of her suit. She has a long ponytail flowing behind her acting as the tail of her costume. Her eyes are different from her partners though. Where Bug has a mask covering his face and the whites of his eyes showing hers are a solid green that don’t show off the eye themselves. She also has a pair of leather cat ears on the top of her head (and a small pair of horns pointing out on her forehead.)

The pair deal with the large rock monster quickly enough. Bug seems exited about the whole thing and looks to be having fun fighting and coming up with plans. While Chat is a bit more collected and focused. She protects her partner while he finds a way to get past the Akuma’s defenses with his Lucky Charm.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(((This is a gift for @miraculous786​. They have been one of the people that have helped me be more vocal in sharing my ideas/prompts  with others and even giving me the confidence to post my own stories. This idea was just going to a quick “Hey guys, here is an idea.” But Miraculous786 said they were a fan of DareDevil. So I decided to work on my notes a little and try and make, at least, a decent start to it. Well Miraculous786, this is the start I thought of. its a little rough and is like draft1.1 but with this and the notes I sent you before, I officially hand it off to you. This story is now yours to do what you want with it.  My only request is that you keep up the good work and remember to “Have Fun With It.”)))

[gettingovergreta]

Fic Interview Tag

tagged by @clarasimone thank you <3

Name: @gettingovergreta

Fandoms I write for: Currently, Game of Thrones. Have also written for Sherlock, House MD, and The Secret Adventures of Jules Verne. (Should probably get my fics for the latter two onto AO3, sigh.)

Two-shot: Just checked and I have exactly one fic with two chapters, which is my most recent, Of Love Stories and Lizards. And really it’s more like 1.5, LOL.  Apparently I have two speeds, which are “one-shot” and “this never ends.”

Most popular multichapter: The Dragon of Bear Island is closing in on it, but my most popular multichapter by bookmarks, hits, and kudos is still Advent, a Sherlock/Molly fic centered on the Christmas season. (Fine, it’s basically a Hallmark movie. Shush.) The Dragon of Bear Island is absolutely killing it for comment threads though.

Actual Worst part of writing: Uh...writing??? Basically trying to get a story out when I’m not in the zone, because it’s such a slog, but it also has to be done or I would update fics like once every three months. I also tend to think in dialogue so filling in the gaps is kind of tough for me.

How you choose your titles: I pillage titles everywhere. Sometimes it’s just a general theme. Sometimes it’s a song lyric. Sometimes it’s a line that I happen to like. At least once or twice recently I just asked @sincerelydayyy and she came up with one like magic. (My fics occasionally have a working title with no resemblance to what actually gets published.)

Do you outline: I’ve been living in my house two years and I have like a dozen still-packed boxes and haven’t hung a single piece of artwork. What do you think???😂😂😂  I do occasionally try to outline but it doesn’t exactly work for me because eventually I start elaborating and then I forget that I was trying to outline in the first place 😂. With my current multichapter I sort of had an outline but honestly it ended up being a lot more complex than that outline initially suggested. 

Ideas I probably won’t get to but it would be nice: I really want to write an Invisible Library/House MD crossover explaining how House is one of the Fae. IDK, it could happen, mainly because the idea is hilarious to me. I also wrote some bits of a story where the Harpy had killed Grey Worm and Jon Snow fell in love with Missandei instead of Daenerys that it’s safe to say I won’t finish but it was kinda interesting. Ohhh and one that was a serious stretch where Jon and Dany did get married and it was Jorah/Ellaria Sand. Yeah idk what I was thinking either 😅  I also have a Jorah/Dany fic that is quite light and fluffy but I ended up using some of the themes in Dragon of Bear Island and I don’t want to repeat myself because that’s boring.

Best writing habits: I suppose the best one is trying to get as much down as possible when I do get something going. Also, while I don’t tend to use outlines per se, I do sometimes find it easier to write with some structure to the story - so a multichapter like Advent is structured around various calendar landmarks, the marriage of convenience fic I’m working on has a section for each month of the year, Of Love Stories and Lizards was arranged around the romance novel sections. It’s like the old ghost of those 5 + 1 stories.

Spicy opinions:  Hmmm. I don’t have many of these, tbh. I will say that I do think people sometimes should consider a diversity of happy endings (not always here for the sad endings lol). I know that “marriage and babies” is usually the default in het fic but honestly it’s not the only way to go. Sometimes it fits, sometimes it doesn’t, and I don’t really love the idea of wedging every character in every fandom into that particular shape.

Edit: OMG I forgot to tag people. Tagging @mizjoely, @sundance201, @enigma731, @stlgeekgirl, and anyone who would like to share some spicy opinions 😂