#i have been vividly imagining this whole world i am writing about and i am content with the story tbh
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lilacxquartz · 10 months ago
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i am planning the fic in question that i posted about a couple of days ago, so don’t mind these in between posts as i lay it all out.
tw for upsetting themes being discussed, it’s planned to be a normal fic on the surface that gradually gets dark to the point of no return.
so far, i’ve roughly drafted about ~20ish chapters, so it’s a medium fic and usually my polishing & real write up adds a lot of content, so we might be looking at more, or just longer chapters overall.
plot: i’m going for naive small town reader moves to the city over the summer because she has a job starting in the autumn, let’s go with teaching at jujutsu high but the story isn’t about that, it’s about navigating life before then.
so getting to know a lifestyle that’s unfamiliar to you, being involved in a toxic friendship dynamic, being oblivious to certain advances, telling a little too much about yourself, etc will be a recurring theme.
for the sake of the plot, there will be canon divergence to include suguru also in this story, so consider this an alternate timeline or whatever.
relationships:
x satoru gojo: initially arrogant, unserious and casual, he shows off his softer side when i put the two of you in certain scenarios. his ego makes him feel a little entitled to you, even though he tries to fight it just a little.
x suguru geto: initially reserved and uncaring, you struggle with getting along with him altogether but he gradually opens up and starts seeing you a certain way, as a result, he’s a little bolder but he’s subtle about it. gradually gets worse, though.
x shoko ieiri: i’m including her as a friend of the trio because this is a shoko inclusive household blog, she will act as your moody but caring friend who slowly starts to see in between the lines.
recurring themes:
- naive reader: you are an adult in this, but a fresh-ish adult, so think like 20-23, you’re still a little socially unaware, you’ve lived in a smaller town your whole life, your jujutsu school barely had students and you had strict parents.
- toxic dynamic: you are thrown into a life that’s heavily focused around your new friends, things like heavy drinking, catching up to experiences you never got, not really knowing much about your sexuality, being oblivious to red flags, etc is a whole thing.
- confusing feelings: you’re new to this sort of thing dear reader, so you can’t really understand what you’re feeling exactly, was it normal or satoru to try that? is suguru being distant after you told him a certain thing normal? did you say too much? too little?
what makes it a dark fic:
- yandere themes, but it will be a slow build up so you have time to establish friendships with everyone, not really quite noticing that both men are gradually crossing boundaries with how close they’re trying to get to you until they start taking it a little too far.
- non-con themes: it starts off simple, like touching a little too suggestively while you’re simply just… unaware, slowly getting to the point it being obvious, to the point where you can’t get away from it and it’ll get rough, because hey, a lot of tension has been brewing and they finally have you where they want you.
- unhealthy relationships: nothing about how the relationships are handled are in any universe a healthy representation. isolation, manipulation and mistreating the reader is very present here, even if unintentionally.
so when’s it gonna happen:
i’m gonna finish up a couple of my ongoing fics on ao3, they’re both near completion, so maybe towards march-april if i get it to a point i like also, i’ll likely do a weekly release on here and on ao3, every wednesday or so?
so it’ll be this that’s happening along with bitter tea leaves retold fic along with the last couple of chapters from my other dark, although non-yandere fic i have going on there, but from now on any new works will also be posted on tumblr, hah.
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saneabandoned · 7 months ago
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Diving into Star Wars: The Clone Wars
“Good soldiers follow orders.”
This seems to encapsulate the whole seven seasons of the series Star Wars: The Clone Wars. If you haven’t seen it, haven’t heard of it – in short, it’s an animated series set between Episode II and III of the prequel saga. However, the aim of this is not to be a guide – you can go to Wookiepedia for that; this is supposed to be an essay – analysis, some kind of a deeper-ish dive into the philosophy and meaning of the series, that frankly is one of the best things to happen to this film universe, perhaps ever. I have, time and again, tried to explain for myself the meaning it carries and just why it has me in such a strong chokehold, but I have failed, or at least haven’t reached a conclusion. Maybe it’s not possible, maybe it’s just the magic of being a fan – you see and feel things not everyone would understand, because it speaks to you on some personal level, that even some (more chill than me, at least) fans won’t be able to entirely relate to. I have yet to meet a person as obsessive as I am over all kinds of different media – don’t get me wrong, even though Star Wars is without a doubt my favourite universe, there are many more I have indulged in, wrote about, watched, listened, theorized and all that good stuff throughout many years. But as I have recently come to realize, I have spent the last ten-ish years of my (not that long, to be fair) conscious life thinking about this universe, this whole galaxy (pun absolutely intended) of characters, morals, and plots.
Speaking about morals, that’s where some of the importance of The Clone Wars comes for me personally. Ever since I can remember, Star Wars has been a huge deal in my life – I watched the movies at a very young age (thanks, mom!), but started reading more and more into the whole world as I got older. I thought I’d reached the peak somewhere in high school when I would literally rewatch the prequels every single weekend, and the OG movies about once a month too. I just found it mesmerising, I always have – being a person with a huge imagination, that never quite stops working (and that’s caused me some trouble as well), I found a haven in this world, a place where nothing is too weird, everything is just so brilliantly imagined and thought of, written and painted so vividly, that it feels like someone has taken the insides of my brain, turned them into a whole painting, adding stories, characters and just overall putting into words and pictures the things that I can’t really understand and explain for myself. I found a mirror in this world, a sanctuary for all my thoughts. I used to listen to the soundtracks whenever I felt anxious, and it would transport me directly into the universe I felt so safe in. It was an escape from reality; still is – not that reality was or is particularly scary or unbearable for me; but sometimes I wish I was elsewhere; somewhere where there is courage, bravery, adventure, love, all the things I longed for while being quite honestly, mostly a bored teenager at school.
I have always loved writing, loved expressing my thoughts, putting them into words (as is becoming obvious by this text) and have always greatly appreciated when films, books or other media would reciprocate that – when the words on the screen or the page would feel like I wrote them myself, so true, so real, so incredibly close to me, that I would get literal shivers and wonder if telepathy is actually possible. But hey, that’s The Force for you!
As of now, I have just finished completely rewatching the whole Clone Wars series and as always, I have many thoughts on it. The first time I watched it was right after the final season came out because at that time, and especially during the pandemic, I was going deeper than ever into my interests, rewatching all my favourite things, while also searching for new ones to keep me from going absolutely insane (I think I maybe have succeeded in the opposite though). So, stumbling across this series, I thought I’d give it a try. The rest is history – after absolutely and hungrily devouring it, I continued to Rebels, and every other possible piece of media under the sun. Fabulous times.
Now, one thing I’d like to make clear – I’m not a pro. I am not in any way a certified critic, a writer, or any other sort of person authorised to make such an analysis. I am but a fan, a fan for whom this universe means more than I could ever hope to be able to put into words; a fan who after years of contemplation, has reached a point where I can’t keep it inside any longer. I’d love if this piece of writing makes it out in the universe, reaches as many people who enjoy Star Wars as much as I do, but even if not, I am writing it for myself, I am trying to step out of my comfort zone, reach deep into myself, and in a life of struggling with the loudness of my thoughts, trying to put something down, manifesting my emotions and creating something physical from them; these characters that mean so much to me will never be real, I can never hope to speak to them, touch them, or see them in real life. They have although shaped me as a person and largely formed my psyche and morals, view of the world, inner monologue, even some of my characteristics.
So nevertheless, for me they are more real than a lot of people I know are.
***
To begin, I don’t intend to focus on the Jedi’s role in the war – it is of course vital, but I think the discourse about that is to be found more detailed in relation to the movies, namely the prequels, as CW is very much about the clones themselves. When I first started watching it, I will be honest, I didn’t think I’d find what I ended up finding – and that is such depth that I couldn’t imagine finding again, after being a fan of the movies, both OG and prequels, for so long. But was I wrong!
But let’s start with Ahsoka, since I started by mentioning the Jedi and she is one of the first new characters to appear (besides Rex and many others, of course). First, I wasn’t convinced that I liked her much – she was a bit of an annoying youngling for the first few seasons, after all. I wanted Anakin and that’s about it. Well, I got what I wanted, I think, as I am firm in my opinion that Anakin’s arc is so widely explored that you get a whole another view of his character, something I didn’t think was possible, after all – isn’t the entire saga about him? It is, but still – what I saw in CW, through characters such as Ahsoka and Rex, contributed so much to Anakin’s development as a character and leading force in the saga as I don’t think anything else ever did in the movies, any of them. So, yes, I got what I wanted, but also, I got so much more – Anakin is not my main point of discussion here, I think as main of a character he might be in this series, he is not THE main one, at least not for me. And as Dave Filoni is quoted saying – The Clone Wars is about Ahsoka and Rex.
Who are they? That was my main wonder when I first started watching – why would I care about a random clone captain and a youngling? They are both not present in the movies, and the clones themselves have very little personality there, they are just side characters, until they end up executing Order 66, which is of course devastating. But after watching CW, I completely changed my outlook on it, but more on that later. So, Ahsoka and Rex – admittedly, in the beginning, I didn’t find that much since it’s just mainly classic Star Wars battles and a loose plot that is not absolutely VITAL to the end result but brings so much deeper insight into the clones’ personalities, and ultimately through that to the whole feel.
What I really find devastating about this series is the nagging feeling of doom you inevitably carry with you – you spend so many episodes and seasons watching your favourite characters win numerous battles, you root for them, you cry and laugh with them, you grow so attached to them; but you know how the story ends, you’ve seen Anakin become Vader, again you know about Order 66, you know the Empire rises after all and Palpatine’s plan works – and every time you hear someone say “you’re going to lose this war”, you hope for the opposite, but you know they’re right and there’s nothing to be done – evil wins in the end of this. And as I read somewhere – this is a story that happened a long time ago – it’s over, it has already happened, there is no hope, at least in this series, which I find frankly terrifying. Amazingly done, but still heartbreaking.
Clones, war, and choices
The point about choices and what it means to be a soldier gradually becomes more and more pronounced as the show goes on – one amazing example of this is the Umbara arc where the 501st is led not as usual by Anakin, but by Pong Krell (who later turns out to be a traitor of course). This is one of the darkest moments in the show, as clones are made to kill one another, to sacrifice themselves without reason, and for the first time to face an incompetent, and frankly evil general, and to choose to disobey. This is for me a crucial moment, as the clones have never before chosen to disobey direct orders – they were, after all, made to comply and to follow what their generals tell them to.
"I used to believe that being a good soldier meant doing everything they told you. That's how they engineered us. But we're not droids. We're not programmed. You have to learn to make your own decisions."
But here, we can see the conflict – especially in Rex, as he is the captain and has to face the general and answer for his deeds. He looks him directly in the eye and tells him they are not willing to go on a suicide mission, that they will not follow his orders, after he’s made them fight and kill their brothers unknowingly, and even ordered Fives and Jesse to be executed. However, Rex struggles with killing Krell, when he decides to; he orders him to kneel and points the blaster at his back but is unable to fire the shot. Once again, Star Wars proves that its plot has much deeper nuances and philosophies; for the first time here, we are faced with the harsh truth – the clones are people. We know that, but it somehow gets lost in the movies, as the focus there is on the Jedi’s end, which is just as tragic, of course. But before now, no one has considered what it really means to be a clone. They were made for war, they were made to die, their lives and their deaths were planned. Are the Jedi and the Republic, in that case, really the “good” side? That’s what I, at least, started to reflect on when I reached this point in the series, and it changed my whole outlook on the saga, on everything I have seen thus far. Yes, I still think the Jedi are cool and whatnot – but did they not deserve what happened to them for so blindly exploiting their soldiers? They didn’t know about Order 66 of course, and Palpatine is in no way right – but how come the Jedi are innocent in this? I don’t think they are, at least not fully. They could’ve stopped so much suffering and helped so many more clones, if not for their narrow views, which are all the reason for the clones’ suffering, Ahsoka’s leaving and consequently, Anakin’s betrayal.
"Sometimes in war, it's hard to be the one that survives."
Oh, Cody, Co-dy! The friendship the clones and in this case – Rex and Cody – share is truly precious and very accentuated in this arc especially (here the first arc of the last season) – it is Cody who Rex confides in about not wanting to lose any more brothers, as he knows he is one of the few ones who will understand him fully, what it means to be a soldier, to have to live with the morals of war, to have never known anything but loss. This is what makes Rex dive and slightly recklessly (thank God) search for Echo, proving that he’s alive, saving him from the tortures. They are brothers, and they never leave their own behind. But he is not possessive or jealous, and when he senses Echo’s pull towards Clone Force 99, he is ready to give him the push he needs to join them. He knows his brothers, as I said, and he knows the trials of war, so if Echo will feel even an ounce happier with this squad, he deserves it, after all he’s endured – “If that’s where you feel your place is, then that's where you belong."
Therefore, I love the Skako Minor arc and Echo’s retrieval, not only because it sets up the ground for The Bad Batch (I’m not even going to begin trying to explain what it means to me, as it deserves to have another huge debate on its own), but because it shows Rex’s devotion to his brothers – all of them. Even though he tries to be just a soldier, to live through the deaths, he still cares immensely, and that’s what makes him a good captain. His bravery is unmatched, he is always the one leading his men, and looking out for them, because he knows his men, he stands and fights side by side with them, and he’s ready to die on the battlefield, thus setting the example for everyone.
The philosophy of war is extremely complicated – this is what I enjoyed so much about the series (and the movies of course, politics and war is the main theme), among all other things; the fact that we see war as destroying, as a necessary evil, as a tragedy by itself – but war also created life in this case and its ending brought much more death than any of the battles ever did.
"The mission... the nightmares. They're finally... over."
I’m sorry, but I think I have never witnessed anything as remotely tragic as Fives’ arc – Palpatine told only him the whole truth, fully knowing no one would believe the clone hasn’t lost his mind; but the sacrifice the trooper made ultimately saved so many lives, mostly Rex’s, one of his closest friends. Fives never got to reunite with Echo but losing him made Rex realise how important every brother is to him, and in consequence, he never gave up on any of them (not that he was inclined to do so before of course). In his last sane moment, Rex begged Ahsoka to “find Fives”, and she understood. She knew the clones better than anyone and knew exactly what that meant and never doubted it for a second. Fives saved her life, too.
Fives’ arc is the first time the show begins to become darker and more sombre – it is also the point when we as spectators begin to realize what Order 66 actually means, having seen before only its results; but this time we see its execution, through the eyes of the clones themselves. They are forced to kill all Jedi, after being their most loyal soldiers, and honestly – incredibly loyal friends as well. They can’t control it and it’s not their choice – but that doesn’t mean they don’t realize what they’re doing – Rex said he couldn’t help it; Wrecker said he tried to fight it (The Bad Batch); Bly shot Aayla so many times, so she wouldn’t suffer and her death would be quick; Cody didn’t even check if Obi-Wan was dead; Wolffe didn’t kill Plo Koon. They were people, they were made to do inhumane things, but they found a way, they made a choice, so that they could somehow live with it after.
We get all of this through the clones’ perspective, rather than the Jedi, and it’s just as painful, if not more – we are used to hearing “the army betrayed its generals”, but what happens when we realise, they couldn’t do anything about it? What happens when we see the struggle, when we can almost feel the pain of having to betray? The clones, the most loyal creatures ever created, made for loyalty, have to turn on their generals, on their comrades, on their closest friends.
So, I come back to Ahsoka and Rex. We see them in the very first moment of the show, and they have already formed a bond, which is unlike anything else. They fight side by side the whole war – from the battle of Christophsis to the Siege of Mandalore – and Dave Filoni is truly right when he says this show is about them; but I think also in a broader sense. It is about two creatures who were destined to fight all their lives, who no matter their completely opposite backgrounds, turned out to be the same things – soldiers. Through and through, in their own ways. Their friendship transcends beyond all of this, they have a unique connection, that’s never shaken, even in the direst of moments; even years later, when they meet (in Rebels), you can feel their love for one another, the purest friendship there ever was, somehow ironically created by the ugliness of war and constant fight. Both Rex and Ahsoka suffered losses we cannot imagine – Rex says he tries not to hold on to any of his brothers, and Ahsoka is a Jedi, so it is forbidden for her to form such attachments; but we know. We see it in their eyes, we can hear it when they speak. Rex can never forget Fives’ death and the fact that he died thinking no one believed him; he ran to Skako Minor in an instant even though it might have been a trap, but the chance to save Echo was not one he was going to miss out on this time. And he saved his brother, against all odds. And he saved Ahsoka, as she saved him, time and again. Because that's what brothers do.
“I’m no Jedi” – an interesting phrase for Ahsoka and Rex to have in common, given how different both their roles and backgrounds seem to be, but it is indeed the one they unexpectedly share. Spoken first by Rex here, and then a lot later by Ahsoka in Rebels, it is highly unprovable that it’s on purpose. However, I don’t think anything in Star Wars is done without a reason, so I choose to believe there is some thread connecting them – after all it is Rex and Ahsoka, and that will always matter. What it means for both of them is simultaneously the same, yet different – Rex is the clone closest to the Jedi, there is no doubt about this; he’s used to their ways, he has as equally as strong a moral code, so it is somehow thinly implied that he acts similar to them, despite (or thanks to) being one of the strongest and most respected clone leaders. His closeness to both his general and commander is widely known, so no one seems to pay attention to the fact that he is actually a clone, as he makes his own decisions, and often chooses to fight where a Jedi would opt to step back.
Ahsoka and Anakin
For me Ahsoka became the best character in the whole saga, no ounce of doubt, sorry. She is the embodiment of the Force, she is fierce, loyal, but also incredibly wise for someone her age, and someone who is still learning. On many an occasion, she proves to be more experienced than Anakin (and in my book, experience outranks everything) and I feel like he’s learned as much from her as she did from him – if not more. She is the one keeping him sane and grounded, and I’m a firm believer that had she not left the order, he wouldn’t turn. Ahsoka’s presence brings so many new layers to Anakin’s character, that have not been explored before that and had she stood by him, he wouldn’t be able to become what he became. So, yes – ultimately, I blame the Jedi order for Anakin’s betrayal, I always have, but after watching this series, and seeing it from another point of view, I simply cannot be shaken. They took everything from him and left him alone, which has always been his weakest – he has always been this little child, terrified by the dark, later consumed by it, now unable to fight it anymore. The Jedi made him, and they unmade him too. In my opinion, he shouldn’t have ever been a Jedi in the first place – he is not like Obi-Wan, not like Yoda, not even like Ahsoka (who is not the traditional Jedi either, being trained by him) – he is so powerful and so weak at the same time, and that’s where his dilemma lays – who am I? Which side am I on? He doesn’t know, but no one is there to help him – Ahsoka included, as she (rightfully so!) leaves the order when she sees the truth about it. But she carries that guilt ever since.
She blames herself for leaving Anakin, she blames herself for not fighting alongside him when he needed it; for leaving her friend, her brother. If I were Ahsoka, I would have done the same – she was betrayed by the Jedi, not by Anakin, not ever, but still. He stood with the Order when she needed him by her side. And that is what destroys him too. The loss of his padawan, his most loyal friend is unlike anything else, and for her, leaving this life that’s all she’s ever known, transforms her view on everything. And when she inevitably returns, because that’s where she is supposed to be in order for the prophecy to happen – she must be there, but not by Anakin’s side; she doesn’t fit anywhere else, but she doesn’t fit there anymore either; and she can’t follow him, so she’s sent to Mandalore, again alongside the clones, her brothers, she goes down fighting with Rex. She’s always been his sister more than a Jedi; she didn’t ever belong anywhere else but on a battlefield. She may not be a clone, and she wasn’t meant to be a soldier either; but just like the clones, the war is all she’s ever known, and even though she was meant to be a peacekeeper, peace was something she never knew, especially after Anakin’s turn to the Dark side – even though there is no longer a war, she is forever tormented by the voices she heard in his last moments as her beloved master and the pain she felt when he left.
She knew it was over in that moment – Order 66 is by far the most heartbreaking arc of them all and I can never watch it without then spending weeks thinking about it – it’s genius, really, how Palpatine had this evil plan, dictated the whole war without anyone noticing; and it worked. It worked and changed the whole entire galaxy, and nothing could have prevented it – except maybe Anakin turning; and that is what Ahsoka can’t get over; she feels it is somehow partially her fault that the dark won; if only she hadn’t left, it haunts her forever. She doesn’t know Anakin is Vader, not until she meets him after, so she thinks he’s dead like the rest of the Jedi – and when she finds out what truly happened to him, she passes out (in Rebels; another terrific moment) because the pain is just too strong – the mixture of his known presence in the Force, and his new persona, that is torn from pain and suffering, feelings so intense and unknown to her she can’t understand them. It’s not her master, but it is undeniably Anakin. And he feels abandoned, he feels alone, he is guilty and sad and in constant pain, he is no longer there, not really, but then – he is. And the memory of what he once was, what he promised, everything he taught his padawan brings such pain for Ahsoka.
She may not think she is truly a Jedi, yet she is for me the only one of them I came to respect – she is never hypocritical, doesn’t leave anyone behind, not ever, and she fights for good, always for what she deems right, never feeling like she has to change for others, but in the end always blaming herself for their fate. She could never forgive herself for what happened to Anakin, and she can never forget her brothers, the clones, she suffers and grieves for every one of them, she knows their names, they were her whole world. And the only thing she had left, because they never judged and never tried to change her, they simply stood by her. Even when they had orders to kill her.
Rex and Order 66
Ahsoka’s master was gone from that moment on, and all she had left was Rex. The other main character, and I accept no objections to that statement. Rex is... the best one ever. He is, without any doubt, my favourite from this series. Putting aside my Ahsoka obsession, I didn’t expect to grow as attached to him as I did. Then again, I can’t separate them – for me, they are a team, the best one, and I don’t think I would have liked them as much had they not been the amazing pair they are. The connection between Rex and Ahsoka is what makes this series so different and so much better than the movies for me. It shows a level of true depth and caring that we haven’t really seen before – the type of platonic trust that few people find in their real lives. If I get to have just one friend that is as loyal, I don’t think I’d need anything more. Their story is so real, so touching and beautiful and sad – I think it is not only the best one in the series, but in the whole saga, and in any storyworld, really, for me personally. They meet a kid and a soldier, but they leave the war (or maybe the war leaves them) as equals, friends bound by experiences so unique and traumatic that they can never forget them, their bond can never be destroyed. They are soulmates, and they are forever. I don’t make the rules, sorry.
"Well, I've known no other way. Gives us clones all a mixed feeling about the war. Many people wish it had never happened, but without it, we wouldn't exist.”
Rex says this to Ahsoka moments before he is forced to execute Order 66 and it makes me shudder every time I hear it. Knowing what follows, knowing that the clones that have been created for war, are humans with so much more nuanced feelings that they let themselves express, that they fear the war ending as much as others might feel a war beginning is incredibly twisted. They are not machines, they are much more than that, they have feelings, and they have morals, and they are afraid. Rex has never doubted his loyalty to his commanders, and never gave any reason to be doubted – never hesitated, never showed anything less than immense courage and skill. But now he stands before the only person he’s never been able to deceive, and he voices for the first time what probably has been torturing him for a while – the knowledge that he is expendable, that his life might be over, and that this might be what he’s always fought for – the end of himself and his brothers. Victory and death, indeed.
Viewers have witnessed many a clone death, and these last episodes are the culmination of it all – from that point on, every favourite character is in danger. Of themselves. One thing that the series does marvellously is bring personality to so many seemingly identical characters – in the movies we never get any detail about their lives, their characteristics, even their looks – but now I could recognize Fives from Echo in a second; they might have the same features and the same voice, but they are not the same. They are brothers, forged by the same essence, they share the same blood and the same heart, but they are individuals with thoughts and passions so diverse it’s impossible not to notice, not to adore.
Rex is Ahsoka’s best friend, as she reassures him moments before everything went to hell. He is the man who stood and fought by her side, and who watched her grow up. Who, when faced with the order to kill her, removes and drops his helmet in a desperate try to fight Order 66 (perhaps unconsciously, as he is being mind-controlled), and so she could see his eyes, see his tears, his struggle, his shaking, and know that he had no choice, know that on some level, he is asking for help for the first time ever, the soldier he is – he removes his helmet so he could look her in the eyes, his best friend, his sister, his commander; and she knows.
She’d ran to him, when sensing there was something wrong – of course, Ahsoka would run to Rex, because he’s Rex, he’ll know exactly what to say and what to do, and maybe he could contact somebody who can fix this; this can’t be real, the war is almost over; she’s still a child after all, she can’t face this now, not alone, not without Rex. She’s never had to face anything without Rex, it’s just unimaginable – but she runs to him and in his eyes she sees someone who is not Rex at all, and suddenly all the men she trusted with her life more times than she can count, are not the men she knows, and they want to hurt her, and Rex wants to hurt her, even though it makes him suffer. She sees his tears; she feels in him what she never believed she would.
The parallels in their relationship are just amazing – one of their first interactions is when Rex says to her “good luck, kid” on their first ever mission together – and it shows just how much he already cares for her, how he understands that beneath all her witty remarks and wish to prove herself to her new master (and his soldiers!), she is still a kid thrown on a battlefield – an unnatural atmosphere for anyone, but especially for a young child with no experience whatsoever. From then on, they just keep getting closer and their friendship grows stronger until it reaches a point where they can understand each other without even speaking.
“Yeah, kid, I’m okay”, Rex says, moments after Ahsoka has removed his inhibitor chip and essentially saved both their lives, all while putting herself at a great risk, just because she cares and she can’t do this on her own. In this moment, in his eyes, she is again the kid he first saw, scared about her friend, trying to prove that she can do it all on her own – this parallel is so important to me; she has never been in such a situation alone before, because she’s always had Rex, and now she’d almost lost him, after just reuniting with him; when for a split second there was something in his eyes that she’d never seen before, the only thing that saved her was Anakin and Rex’s training (shown in Tales of the Jedi). Anakin taught her how to fight enemies much stronger than herself, her brothers taught her how to defend herself, not knowing that she’d ever have to, especially not against them. It’s truly heartbreaking.
“Ahsoka, it’s all of us” – just seconds after she has saved him, Rex looks her in the eyes and apologizes for almost doing the undoable, for almost killing her, for being okay when she almost wasn’t. How would he ever live with himself, knowing that he betrayed his best friend? The animation has developed so much by this point, that in this last episode, it’s almost like watching real people acting, at least that’s how I’ve always felt; it feels real, the emotion is just so intense and so palpable – especially with this being the first time Rex says her name. She is his friend, she is the only one who cared enough to save him, thus saving herself, proving again and again her loyalty, the thing they have most in common. They understand each other like no one else can, they have been through everything together, and now, in these crucial moments, they have both proven it – she never gave up on him, she trusted him enough to save him, and in return, he is ready to follow her anywhere and die protecting her. From his own men. Barely awake, he’d reached for his blasters, shooting his own brothers to protect her, not even fully conscious yet. They are equal, they have become one through the Force, and if it wasn’t clear before, it is now – they are sticking together to the very end, no matter what they must do, no matter how. They are forever. Loyalty means everything to the clones.
This and what follows on the bridge of the ship as it’s coming down, are my favourite scenes from the series.
“I hate to tell you this, but they don’t care! This ship is going down, and those soldiers, my brothers are willing to die and take you and me along with them!”
Even though it’s animated, even though you can’t see his face, and the only thing is his desperate voice, you can feel the devastation when Rex utters these words, touching his chest, as he says “brothers” – he has always cared for them, his family, and has mourned every single loss, but now, when there is no other choice, he knows protecting Ahsoka is the most important thing there is – the mind-controlled clones can’t tell apart their own from a traitor, so what’s the point?
There is always a right choice – and Ahsoka proves it, when she gently removes his helmet, only to show what everyone but also no one suspected – Rex is crying, he is afraid and in pain, and she is the only thing he cares about. He’s lost so much; he can’t lose her too. But she always has a plan, and she is probably the only one who cares about the clones as much as him; they don’t need to explain themselves; she doesn’t want to be the one who is responsible for so much death; there’s been too much already. They have lived a life of war, facing death and loss every single day, and enough is enough. She wants to live, but not at the cost of murder. There is no doubt in her voice when she says that.
Burying brothers
What follows is truly devastating to watch – Rex facing his brothers, as a traitor in their eyes, as some of them stand before him, still wearing their helmets with Ahsoka’s Togruta design on them, the colours of the 501st closely resembling her lekku. They’d painted their armour as soon as they knew Ahsoka was coming back to them and they were getting their commander, and little sister back, their best friend, the only one who cares enough to remember all their names, who never turned her back on them, even now, when they are against her, she still tries to save as many of them as possible; she’s been the one whose hand they’ve reached to when dying, their last memory on this world her face, her bright eyes, full of life and care, her presence calming them in the face of the inevitable, as she will have to do now as fell, at the very end.
How must it feel to lose everything you’ve fought and hoped for, in a span of hours? Palpatine’s plan is truly ingenious. The war might have ended, but only on the outside; a much larger, much more painful fight has begun, inside, for Rex and Ahsoka, who now have to navigate a life they haven’t ever considered; they may have wondered what life after the war might be like, but not like this, never like this; not as heroes, not even as fighters – as traitors in the eyes of their most beloved brothers and the new control of the Empire. But they choose to fight until the end, crashing down, falling with the cruiser together, hand in hand; the parallel of them hanging on to each other in the hanger is precisely mirroring the moment of Anakin and Obi-Wan trying to push each other away during their legendary fight on Mustafar, which is happening at the exact same time. But these two don’t let go, they simply cannot face losing each other, not now, not after all of this. They’ve fought for years, so many battles, losing track of what the fights are about – but this last one is clear; they are fighting for each other. And when they are the only survivors, they take to bury their brothers, and grieve the colossal loss side by side, silently watching, because there aren’t words to describe what they feel, and it’s not necessary, so they don’t speak. They know.
"I don’t want to bury any more of our brothers."
The devastation and sheer exasperation we hear in Rex’s voice when he says this much later, in The Bad Batch, when talking about the inhibitor chips nonetheless, is all we’ll ever need to know about him. Laying low after the end of the war, separating from Ahsoka, believed to be dead; in fact – being dead to the world in every sense, this is the choice he makes. He’s witnessed almost all his closest friends dying, he’s lost his general, he doesn’t have a purpose and a goal anymore; he has to deal with the realization that the war is over, but it ended at way too high a price, and he’s a soldier – he will fight every day, until the end, because it’s all he knows. He’s the most loyal soldier, survived Order 66 at the highest price there could ever be, and he can’t lose more. He wants to keep fighting, and he will, but not to lose. Rex doesn’t want to feel this awful feeling of loss, not ever again.
The same goes for Ahsoka – even though she quits the order and never officially finishes her training, the Jedi life is the only one she’s ever known, so her path even after leaving, after the war ends, and after she separates from Rex, is one lead by the code to a large extent, even if done so unconsciously. She claims to not be a Jedi when she faces her master as Vader in Rebels, wanting to avenge him; but she doesn’t end up doing it, she can’t possibly kill Anakin. So, she goes on, living in this middle ground – she is not truly a Jedi, but what else could she be? She has led her troops in many battles, fought by their side; even when they didn’t have to, they still called her commander, as loyal to her as ever; recognizing that she stood by them, even held them as they died.
When The Resolute crashes after Order 66, we are aware that her and Rex took every single one of their fallen brothers, buried them, and displayed their helmets, putting Jesse at the very front, the one who’d wanted to kill them the most at the end. But they know better, it was not him, not after literal moments before that he almost went insane from Maul’s questioning because he didn’t want to betray Ahsoka; he deserved a recognition, even in death. Every single one of them did, and Rex and Ahsoka gave it to them. She lets go now of her lightsaber, the Jedi weapon that bears her identity, and lays it to rest next to the fallen soldiers, because she doesn’t want to have any more connections to this war, there’s been enough fighting. She dies here too – for what it’s worth, she fell with the clones. I can’t imagine how traumatising and terrible it felt, pulling body after body out of the debris. For both of them.
Brother after brother.
***
No matter what I say, or how much I write, I don’t think I will ever be able to express properly what this world and this series in particular mean to me. Of course I love all things Star Wars, but The Clone Wars will always hold a very special and exceptional place among them. It is a unique feeling, one I cannot put a word on, it feels too big for me, as if there is some kind of a boundary that is at the verge of explosion, it’s holding so much emotion, and there isn’t enough space for it inside. Perhaps it’s the depth and the exploration of the clones, their relationships, the empathy their lives evoke – creatures bred for war, individuals barely recognized in life. But still human, as Rex and Ahsoka remind us of the entire time – especially when we see them watching the arranged helmets of their dead brothers – the clones have not been just pawns, they are people; people who died for a cause they couldn’t have any say in. Their lives were not their own; but Ahsoka’s life wasn’t her own either. This is the tragedy of The Clone Wars, but there’s also an ironic beauty about it – Ahsoka wouldn’t have had her master or her best friend, if it wasn’t for the war. It’s a story about the philosophy of choice, hope, good and evil of course, friendship and loyalty. Victory and its highest cost, death; the consequences after a life spent fighting, which no one usually thinks about.
When the final shot rolls and we see Vader’s ominous figure step on to the same place where Ahsoka and Rex were last, as he digs his apprentice’s lightsaber and holds it, we realize what the moral of the story is. We see Anakin’s eyes behind Vader’s mask, and we feel the cold he feels – he ended up alone after all, after all his trying, he had an army, he led troopers, he cared for an apprentice, but he lost them all. He won the war, but he would rather have died with his friends – who he doesn’t know are still alive, and they don’t know what happened to him either; instead of being their enemy. But the time for choosing is over, and there is no going back for him now.
His reflection hits the clone helmet, and we see the image of Anakin, walking away from Ahsoka and Rex.
It doesn’t end with the war; it begins with it.
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idiotwithanipad · 1 month ago
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Stolen (part 3)
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(Don't we love turning our favourite innocent characters into the villain now and then? (Set in my Gore Au. Shortly after @shebeafancyflapjack‘s A Slip Through Wolrds series. Ft her OC Silver)
Mistress sent him to conduct a search, she made herself busy also, doing her own sweep of the grounds. He’d be lying if he said he enjoyed this; he hated seeing mistress so hurt and vulnerable, but this went far beyond seeing her shatter into a shell of concern and motherly fear. His whole world had come crumbling down upon seeing the vision of the two cubs in their young years, remembering the ways of his tribe, especially the foundling law.
Should this have happened when he was alive, he’d have two new cubs to raise. Why should it be any different now? He was an ignorant fool for forgetting that rule. The two cubs had been claimed by the Witch and the Tudor, but they weren’t the rightful guardians of them. The surrogates maybe, but not the rightful guardians. He’d seen them both enter the land first and he’d forgotten the very thing he took to heart in life. Never abandon a cub.
Taking the free opportunity while it came, he returned to the cave to check them, the dark haired one may well be trying to escape again. Lively little one with fire in her heart. Perhaps the happy cub will soon wake? It’s nearing the cold times, Moonah will rise earlier, she will awaken and dark haired cub won’t be lonely. They can get used to the cave after that.
He skulked through the brambles and breached the entrance of the cave. The dark haired one pushed herself back on the ground and pulled the sleeping one away, as best she could. Weak little thing. The blood had only just barely started to leak from the happy cub’s nose again. Yes. She will soon wake up.
The creature got to his knuckles again and moved closer to the girls. Amy rose her hands and fumbled, a desperate look in her forever bulging eyes.
‘What’s…going…on?’
He merely stared at her, unsure how to answer, he didn’t have an answer, he was just doing what was right after all. Wasn’t he? He answered, clumsily with his hands.
‘Bring…cubs…to…cave’
Yeah, no shit. Amy sighed and shook her head, signing back.
‘Why?’
His hackles seemed to rise, a dark glare in his eyes, one of territoriality and pain.
‘Cubs…mine…’
Crickets and a gentle breeze created a harmonious rhythm for Silver to awaken to. Although she couldn’t see, she could still vividly imagine, and right now she pictured the biggest, brightest moon shimmering above the treetops, decorating each tree leaf with its beautiful light. A glob of blood dribbled from her nostril as she regained feeling in her feet, stretching her knees with a groan.
“Morning” She smiled, her eyes and face still lazy from sleep. Amy scuttled to her side, shaking her arm.
“Woah! Hehe, what’s going on, Mummy? Did somebody die? Hehe” Silver chuckled, her milky eyes darting open wider.
“Mm! Mmm!”
“Ames? Oh shit, hi, hehehe! I didn’t realise it was you. Aren’t I daft? Hahah!” Silver sat up, but the shaking on her arms didn’t stop.
“You okay, Ames? You didn’t get in trouble with your Daddy did you? Hehe”
A soft grunt caught her attention.
“And you, Fuzzy friend? Wow hehehe, Slumber party? Or is this an intervention? ‘Cause I don’t intend to give up molten chocolate lava cake! Hehehe”
She felt a tremble beneath Amy’s hand, and an eerie silence. Something felt off, where’s Mummy?
“Fuzzy friend? Is Mummy okay? She isn’t angry with me is she?” Silver asked, wishing she could shed her permanent grin.
Amy watched as the creature slowly shook his head and shuffled closer. He huffed and pressed his fingertip to the open flesh on her arm. Writing, another method Amy and Silver used to talk to him.
‘Mum. Okay’ He wrote, causing her to exhale with relief, her smile returning from the somber and stitched looking one, to a genuine smile.
“What about you Ames? You’re early. Usually Mummy has enough time to do my hair, AND your Daddy fusses with you before he lets you come out too, heheh!”
Silver presented her palm to Amy, waiting for her to write. The odd, empty smile returned to Silver’s lips the more Amy wrote.
“He…took …us…here…won’t…let…us…go…What? Ames, are you serious? Hehe!”
“Mm!” Amy nodded, tapping Silver’s wrist.
The creature growled, lowering his brow, gritting his teeth at the dark haired cub's defiance.
Silver’s dead eyes glided slowly to the creature who watched her with slight trepidation, hoping she hadn’t seen through his ruse. Silver’s mouth dropped open.
“Oh my gods!…Party time! Hahah!”
Great. Of all times to have a permanently high and whimsical friend. The creature seemed more at ease now, releasing a huff which sounded halfway between a laugh and a sigh of relief. He tapped her shoulder, gaining her attention. He wrote on her hand when she held it out.
‘Cubs…play…I…guard…Aww, hear that, Ames? Hehe, he’s going soft on us, hahah!” Silver teased. The creature headed towards the entrance to the cave and turned to look at Amy, a serious look in his eyes. He signed.
‘Stay…in…cave…be…back…’
He got to his knuckles and strode away out of sight through the shrubs.
Amy shuddered, feeling deeply unnerved by his sudden change of heart towards them, as well as the threatening glares he threw. Silver shuffled closer, reaching for Amy’s hands.
“So, what’s been going on while I’ve been asleep? Anything weird? Haha”
Yeah maybe this whole situation?
Amy wrote on Silver’s palm.
“There’s…something…going on…with him…he’s not…letting…us…leave…Really? How’d you mean, hahah?” Silver enquired, leaning forward onto her crossed legs like a happy child.
Amy wrote again.
“He…tricked me…told me…to come…to you…didn’t…tell…me…you…were still…asleep…then he…took me…to…this…cave…and…here…we…are…Haha! That’s weird. I’ve never known him to do this before” Silver agreed. Amy gave a sigh, glancing over to the entrance again, hoping that he wasn’t eavesdropping.
“How come I can’t hear Mummy? She usually says good morning and gives me cuddles, haha” Silver asked.
Amy took her hand again.
“Dunno…He…keeps going…back…to…her…then…he…comes…back…here…without…her…Huh, Weird.” Silver’s brow creased.
“Maybe he’s trying to plan a surprise party for her and he needs us for ideas? Hehe”
Amy just stared. Silver caught onto Amy’s silence and her giggling slowly stopped.
“Yeah, that sounds even crazier than snow in July, haha. Don’t think he’d do that at all” Silver admitted with a nod.
Amy groaned, urgent, taking Silver’s hand.
“Get…this…I tried…to…go get…dad…and he…caught…me…and took…me…back…here…Really? Haha, wow, he must really need us for something. Weird guy, haha” Silver’s eyes widened.
Amy prodded her hand back into Silver’s palm.
“Correction…he…tripped…me up…grabbed…me…and carried…me back…here…by…force…Oh damn, haha” Silver’s eyes popped open wide, surprised at the thought. Silver brought her free hand up to her lips, giving an anxious gnaw to her nails.
Amy wrote.
“Then…he…said…’cubs mi-‘…”
Silver didn’t get a chance to finish her reading, the creature had returned, catching them off guard, Amy pulled her hand from Silver’s in a panic.
The creature gave a confused growl, eyeing their hands, wondering what they’d talked about.
“Is that you, Fluffy friend?” Silver asked, her permanent smile still seeming slightly feigned to appease him.
A soft grunt in response.
Silver turned herself, sitting on her knees, to face him. Her blank eyes gleaming.
"Fuzzy, what's going on? Why were you mean to Amy? She's our friend, remember? Haha"
Fuck...
The creature glanced up at Amy and rose a brow, he should've known that the dark haired cub wouldn't keep quiet. No matter, he had them where he wanted them.
He prodded his finger into Silver's forearm.
'Me...know...best...Cubs...stay...here...now'
Silver blinked, a confused but whimsical shine in her eyes.
"Yeah but- haha. What about Mummy-?"
Silver was cut off by his finger pressing onto her arm again. Roughly, enough to jerk her arm.
'She...busy...'
Amy groaned, agitated. The creature and Silver both turned their eyes to her. She gesticulated.
'She'll...find...out...soon...enough...Then what?... '
The creature grimaced, hearding both girls back into the darkness of the cave, further away from the entrance. He signed.
'She...not...find...she...not...have...strong...nose...Nobody...will...find...cubs...now'
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marjansmarwani · 1 year ago
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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love❤ (—maddie/reyesstrand 💗)
Thank you, Maddie, I always appreciate the opportunity to self-promote (which is something I think we should all do more often)!
It took me a while to pick mostly because I have 130 Lone Star fics alone, but I tried to go with the ones I really, truly love. Which was hard because I loving a fic a requirement for it being posted at all. But I managed to select 5, eventually.
would've loved you for a lifetime
Prompt: Characters are secretly married and one of them is hurt at work ----- The story of how TK and Carlos came together, and how they almost missed out on their future before it even got a chance to start.
This is a favorite because I really think that some of the descriptions are closer to poetry than any actual poetry that I've ever tried to write. It was also the first time I ever worked with a non-linear narrative, which is a technique I love. The story of TK and Carlos secretly getting married was fun to piece together and reveal in pieces. When it comes to the actual language used this is still probably my favorite thing I have ever written.
I am not what you planned
Dr. Carlos Reyes can’t stand the newest paramedic at the 126. He’s cocky, impulsive, abrasive, and — while admittedly very good at his job — a thorn in his side. Paramedic TK Strand feels the same: he can’t seem to go anywhere in this damn city without someone singing the praises of the young, talented local-boy-turned-doctor. But as time passes some of the bravado fades and their true natures are revealed. Slowly they each start to realize that maybe the other isn’t as bad as they once thought and that maybe — just maybe — there is much more to them than meets the eye.  ---- aka the Dr. Reyes/Paramedic Strand Enemies to Lovers AU
Each of my AUs has a special place in my heart (especially the teacher AU, which I almost picked instead) but writing this one was such an experience, and writing the enemies part of this fic was probably some of the most fun I've ever had while writing. I don't think I'll ever be over this fic, truly.
the truth is stranger than all my dreams
Marjan likes to think that she’s confident, that she can take on anything. But things are showing her that she may not know herself as well as she thinks and that the future can be a scary thing. ----- A Marjan centric 2x04 Coda
Outside of tarlos and Owen, my favorite character to write about is Marjan. Because she is my absolute favorite, after all. But this one always sticks out to me because after the whole thing with Salim what struck me most was the unexpected uncertain future she was suddenly faced with, which I would imagine would feel both liberating and absolutely terrifying. So I wanted to explore that and I am pleased with how it came out.
why can't I hold on?
There is nothing in the world Gwyn Morgan loves more than her children. Loving them has never been hard, but having to stand aside as life took its toll? That was something else entirely—especially when it came to her oldest.  Or, 5 times Gwyn feared for her oldest son, and the one time she knew he would be okay 
My Gwyn fic, aka one of only two fics that have ever made me cry while writing. I love Gwyn so much, and I started writing this fic as soon as she was mentioned in the show. I originally paused on it to wait until we had a better feel for her as a character and ultimately didn't finish it until they killed her, which added a whole other dimension to the writing of this. I vividly remember working on this fic while sitting at my neighborhood coffee shop as Amen came on my shuffle. I had to leave because I started crying. But, regardless of the emotional devastation, I really enjoyed filling in some blanks and accidentally creating an origin story for the coma cookies. And I love her even more after writing this (I'm still not over what they did to her, btw)
the stain you can't wash out
In Owen’s experience, guilt went hand in hand with grief. — An(other) Owen character study that wouldn’t leave me alone after 3x16
The Owen grief fic (or one of them, at least). One of the reasons I like this one is the title, which came from a poem I attempted to write and failed. But mostly it's because Owen Strand is a mess and I love digging around inside his mind. I can't quite explain why I am so fascinated by writing fics by him but I think it has something to do with the fact that I see him as an actually fascinating character that they just don't use to his full potential. There could be some great stories told with the things they have already given the character, but they consistently make the stupidest choices when it comes to him. So I love this fic because I enjoyed reexamining his character in the light of learning about his dead brother and extrapolating how that effected him and informed everything he did from that point forward and how he masks his grief with his job, and how his work is what keeps him from going insane as it feels like penance that he is still paying all these years later. I enjoyed looking at all the parts of his life (and sketching out my idea for his first meeting with Gwyn) even if writing about his experience on 9/11 was intense.
Honorable mentions (because I can't help myself):
Stars Will Guide You Home - aka the carjacking fic, as affectionately named by @terramous
you can't hide from time - because I love the 252 crew as I imagined them here and would love to revisit them at some point in the future
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uhbasicallyjustmilex · 1 year ago
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Hellooo my lovely! 💖💫I am here to distract you! If you're up for it, I'd love to hear your answers to the gold obsidian egg and van gogh tapestry questions of that writing ask game you reblogged? 👀 Sending lots of love and good thoughts your way!!! 💛💛💛
hiii lovely 😘 why are you always just the absolute sweetest?? 🥺💞
gold obsidian egg: what do you treasure the most about your wip?
ooooh i had to reflect on this, because although i absolutely treasure writing four walls, i'd never really paused and tried to distil into words exactly why! i think there are probably two main things:
1) escapism - i love being able to completely immerse myself in characters and a world that feels so vividly real to me, and the safety/freedom of exploring the complexity and wonder of relationships and connection in such a safe space 💗
2) world view - this is going to be harder to explain, but i'm going to try 😅 whenever i write something, i get really immersed in the headspace of my protagonist - like to the point where i'm going about my daily life i'll find myself thinking about the way they'd experience the same environment that i'm in, almost get like - little flashes of being them?? eg, when i'm out walking and i feel my keys in my pocket, it's like for a split second i'm alex in four walls with his little set of miles's keys (i probably sound insane 😭). that's always been a feature of my writing process, but i feel like i've been able to connect to alex in this fic more vividly than i've ever connected with a protagonist before, and i've just absoltuely loved the process of immersing myself in his headspace and trying to view/describe the world in the way i imagine he might. and idk, putting myself in someone else's headspace also just constantly gets me to reflect on the experience of how different situations/emotions/internal thought processes really feel which is something i find endlessly fascinating.
it probably sounds ridiculous, but it's actually changed the way i view so many everyday things around me - like there are things i notice differently or didn't notice before from spending so much time in his headspace. also, writing in a way that i imagine might be how alex in four walls would think feels like it's just opened up new gateways for me in my writing and the way i use language.
god sorry, that was a very long and rambly answer and god knows if it even makes any sense to anyone who isn't me - in short: there is a lot that i treasure about my wip 💜
van gogh tapestry: do you create from any specific emotion? what drives you?
oh wow, this is such a good question. in terms of what drives me - i honestly don't really know, i've just always written and always have a drive to create characters and worlds through that particular medium. i genuinely don't feel like me if i'm not writing something. but i think also it comes from a drive for deep (and safe) emotional connection - and that's something that comes from my connection with the characters i'm writing, their connection with each other, and the connection i have with the people who're reading it too.
i've always been someone who feels things very deeply, so i think i'm quite largely driven by a desire to express the emotions i maybe don't get the opportunity to or feel to big to in real life. i'm not sure if there's any specific emotion that drives me - i think it's more just that sense of feeling everything so poignantly that does. for four walls though, i do feel like i drew particularly on the emotions of belonging and pining. i also notice that i always write best when i'm in a state where i'm feeling things particularly poignantly, even when those feelings can be quite negative or challenging ones - i don't know why, but that's usually when i feel like i connect best with my writing.
okay that's enough before i go off on a whole other tangent 🤦‍♀️ these answers have ended up being way more in depth than i'd anticipated - anyone who's read this has really ended up with quite the little glimpse into my psyche 😅
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deepspacedukat · 1 year ago
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Okay three things 😂
one how are you doing today friend? 😄 getting enough rest, drinking enough water? Also that’s a whole heck of a lot of drafts! That’s amazing 😀see with writers it’s what goes on behind the scenes that the readers don’t see. Don’t feel pressured because you’ve done a whole heck of a lot of writing and work and it’s amazing and so appreciated fren💙
Two 😂 I’m getting back to finishing the vorta story idea I’m doing some editing. See I feel like I have great unique ideas I just cant correctly or interestingly take the imagine and describe it into words idk like I can vividly see my ideas like a movie screen but you know what I mean 🤣
oh and third I love pre-surak (also called pre-reform) vulcans! Any lore on them is appreciated and awesome to see what spins people put on them. I liked the whole 😂 thing you did with the “weird little vulcans” being a gift and technically I mean when you think about it life span wise. It’d be interesting to think about humans having an easier time reproducing because if you look at it like like mice vs dogs. Nice have about just the same litter size as dogs just more frequently. For mice and dogs it’s 6 to 8 on average for the species. And on the flip flop I’ve seen a hound dog have 11 pups and a mouse have 3 pups it depends but it would make sense that with a human mate they’d see it as blessed that she could have her children and be done in a shorter time span. I’m talking scientifically speaking that’s not why you get married or have kid and I didn’t mean to make it sound that way. But logically just looking at it idk. Food for thought
I'm doing well, friend! I should probably be hydrating a little more than I am, but everything else has been alright! You're right! I do have a whole lot of drafts, but watching them multiply is half the fun. 😂
Ooooh, you're working on the vorta idea?? That's awesome, friend!! Enjoy the process! 💙
I totally see where you're coming from with the reproductive rates. In my little headcanon, brainrot world, that's definitely one of the reasons why the Pre-Surak Vulcans would see their "odd little Vulcans" as so remarkable. I'm so glad you pointed that out!!
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sunmoonjune · 2 years ago
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i’ve been doing assignments all day and decided lemme you know just hop on tumblr real quick and first thing i see is LTM UPDATE!!! and boy was this a rollercoaster
the way you write is so poetic and amazing and beautiful and hurtful because POOR BUG 😭😭 but no for real everytime you post a new chapter it always amazes me at how you manage to think of such descriptions that i can literally vividly imagine it you’re phenomenal!! truly truly amazing and i will never tire from saying so and i will say so every single time! :)
but on to chapter 13…. the emotions i am feeling…. idek what i’m feeling at this point 😩
but the way san said MY bug!! that made MY heart and stomach flutter too like bug girlie i think i got the same sickness as you rn…. LOVE SICKNESS (and yeosang calling san darling as well makes me SCREAM)
and woo calling her BABY SOLIDIFIED MY EMOTIONAL CONSTIPATION BECAUSE WTF that’s so cute :,(
and she finally had her first non yunho hug!! achievement!! under unfortunate circumstances but development nonetheless!!
and i know damn well yunho is awake back at camp running the whole place down who knows maybe he’s even gone and left to look for bug himself he’d go insane i hope woo and bug get back on time for the relief
WHICH LEADS ME TO OMG I CANT WAIT TO SEE THEIR REACTION WHEN WOO BRINGS BUG (or in his words baby 🥹) BACK!!
- 📚 (can you tell baby is one of my favourite terms of endearment idk there’s just sumn about it)
uwaa thank you my dear <33 you'll make me blush omg :3
HIS bug <33 it made my heart flutter too hehe :'D we all have love sickness for them huh? I love the pet names, esp in series like this,, they just seem to hit different when you stick with the characters for so long right?
also woo's baby <333 heart throb fr I went weak in the knees writing that xD
her first non yunho hug :')) she's having all these firsts with ateez that she never had the chance of experiencing before :'( bug deserves the world me thinks <3
yes, yunho is indeed going to lose it when he wakes to a missing bug :'(( we shall have to wait and see what he does in the next chapter >:D tho,, hongjoong did promise they could go after woobug at dawn right?? I seem to remember the sun beginning to rise when woo finally began to lead bug home,,, hmmm...
(also hehe it's one of my favs too <33 his baby <33 makes me want to kick my feet and giggle)
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callipraxia · 1 year ago
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This. And…I say that as someone whose first sustained piece of writing did, in fact, involve a thinly-veiled self-insert joining the Fellowship of the Ring.
I…sort of want to say “imagine that I took a deep breath and said that with my eyes closed,” but I’m honestly not even ashamed of it, lol. I was…either eleven or twelve, I was obsessed with the film of The Two Towers, and one day in chorus class, when my usual bullies were inexplicably doing something other than playing keep-away with my glasses (a whole other story), I somehow found out that another girl in the class was a) almost as friendless as I was at that age, and b) also really, really liked that movie. We ended up chatting and coming up with the premise that it would be cool if we were plopped into the Riders of Rohan scene for no good reason. Then I (desperate to repeat this novel behavior of “interaction with another student that did not involve violence being directed against my person”), in an unexpectedly fateful moment of confidence, started to write about it that night, so I could show her the results at the next meeting of chorus class. This would go on for over three hundred handwritten pages over the course of the year, ending in something it…suited us, anyway, to call “a novel.”
It was a nonsensical train wreck from start to finish. My friend wanted to marry Legolas. I proceeded to write almost four hundred pages on the subject of our adventures and her eventual marriage to Legolas, eventually mixing in another of my major interests of the time, which was Robert Jordan’s The Wheel of Time. Each day, my friend would read what I had - over the course of lunchtimes and times at home when I was pretending to do my homework and, often enough, in actual classes - written up to the beginning of each chorus class and would offer feedback and suggestions about what her character and Legolas should do next; as long as Orlando Bloom remained faithful and devoted to her, she didn’t care that I decided on a whim that we were writing in a multiverse (even though I’m pretty sure I didn’t know the word at the time) and that the powers of evil were making realities all around go “boing,” resulting in thinning boundaries that first explained why my friend and I had literally fallen from the sky into the middle of Rohan and then explained why the White Towers of Gondor and Randland just as illogically became the same place while simultaneously battling the forces of darkness. I don’t recall a lot of the plot after that point, but it ended with us and Legolas in a hot tub, reflecting on how great it was for us that reality had nearly collapsed, since it the worlds hadn’t merged, Legolas and my friend wouldn’t have been able to have a bunch of elf babies and I wouldn’t have been able to become Aes Sedai. Why was there a hot tub? Where did it come from? No idea! I guess it just seemed like a good idea at the time?
So yeah, that was my first completed writing project. I am 100% sure it was one of the most execrable things that a tree ever died to make possible. It didn’t even have a title, and I still hadn’t consistently broken this unfortunate habit I had when I was younger of forgetting that “of” wasn’t spelled with a v (I pronounced it “ov,” everyone I knew pronounced it “ov,” and I remember vividly what it was like to struggle, sometimes for minutes at a time, to think of any other way to spell it before I’d give up and just write “ov”). I didn’t learn to type until eighth grade and didn’t have the nerve to go online for a while longer after that, and the upside of those facts is that “The Tale Of How Me And My Buddy The Legolas Fangirl Joined The Fellowship of the Ring” was never posted anywhere and I thus possibly avoided internet infamy for producing it (to say nothing of how much suckier my sucky middle school life would have gotten if anyone had found out I writing fanfiction - this was back when the twenty-first century was still in single digits, and my middle school made the school from Mean Girls look like an over-the-top parody of a particularly nurturing Montessori kindergarten)….
And you know what? I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I had a blast writing that thing - so much so that when my first friend moved on, I ended up starting a new series of…what at least began as LotR fanfictions (this time set twenty years after the films, featuring thinly-veiled, idealized version of me and Second Friend as a couple of princesses) but rapidly spiraled into our own little made-up world. I drew maps and tried to invent cultures (in pathetically weak attempts to imitate Tolkien and Jordan) and wrote nonstop for two years, producing two completed 400-odd-page handwritten manuscripts and the first two hundred pages of a third before we finished middle school and didn’t really cross paths again in high school. In ninth grade, now alone, I wrote really awful Harry Potter and Wheel of Time fics for a few months before a Harry Potter-based text roleplay basically ate my life in the second semester. My first few years at the RP also featured a lot of prose I don’t like to recall, and my attempts at plots and characterization were even worse…but the others in the group, either because they saw some glimmer of potential or were just really nice people, never gave me so much as a glimmer of a suspicion that they thought I sucked. Nor did they ever call me out on it when I began to clumsily improve by, uh, blatantly imitating them (since they were and are some darn good writers). And so I wrote, fumbled, wrote, fumbled…and, slowly, improved, to the point where I now, as of this March, have three novel-length fics I’m actually pretty proud of. None of them would win me a Hugo/Poe/Pulitzer/What-Have-You, but I would not feel cheated if I spent five bucks on something of equivalent quality at the dollar store. And if I die tomorrow, I’ll do so knowing that I entertained at least a couple hundred people, and that my work even meant something to a number probably in double digits. So take that and chew on it, Kelsey From Eighth Grade Who Mocked Me For Writing At All And Told Me I’d Never Amount To Anything….
…though that’s beside the point. The point of offering up the details behind 95% (I also write fan essays and used to write original poetry, both mostly unconnected to all this) of my writing-life autobiography was…I guess to echo the exhortation to show some grace to teenagers writing teenager things?
So, TL;DR - being a teenage fanperson is often a natural stage in the development of a writer, and I have a bunch of concrete examples to back up the assertion. Be nice to kids who are just having fun and not being jerks to or hurting anyone. They might improve and discover a lifelong passion, and even if they don’t, then at least they’ll enjoy themselves in a mostly harmless way and maybe have some fond memories to look back on one day.
Teen girls reading this, if you feel a calling to write fanfiction about a teen girl being transported to a fictional world, go for it. If you want to write about a teen girl being adopted by your favorite characters or joining the fellowship of the ring or becoming a knight, please do.
We should be encouraging kids to be creative and practice writing, an important life skill, not discouraging it because we find teens acting like teens to be cringe.
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oh-katsuki · 1 year ago
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I need you to know I've only read like half of the notebook theory and I wanna respond and react to it so bad but I have so many thoughts about it that I need more time to make them COHERENT before I can even finish the whole thing cause uUGHSKDVBFKJSVBF THE WAY YOU WRITE PINING MAKES MY STOMACH HURT (IN A GOOD WAY PROMISE)
I thought a good compromise would be getting some of the screaming out of the way now so i can save the actual writing analysis stuff for later LOL cause I actually cannot get over the way that you write.
Your descriptions are so vivid down to such TINY details that I'm always blown away, you include nuances that are SOOO important but I never would have even thought about adding myself, it just wouldn't have occurred to me. It does so much to flesh out your little worlds, and some of your written scenes have stuck out to me even like a year after I've read them LOL
(ex is novelty, when reader is going into satori's apartment for the first time and you describe all of his little trinkets and the knick-knacks on his shelves, I can still picture that so vividly and I have aphantasia LOL)
I don't know what lenses you're using to look at life but I wanna see inside ur head so badly it drives me nuts. The way you craft the narrative and tell your stories is completely beguiling, the way you convey emotion in a multitude of ways, through body language or even just the setting itself, actually makes me want to chew on leather it's making me go feral.
I'm not even done but this is already super long and I'm kind of embarrassed skdjfvbhshf sO I will save the rest for when I can buckle down to finish it and then write another essay of a comment LOL I apologize in advance.
I hope you have a super sweet day!
oh my GOOODDD YOU ARE SO KIND???????????? i genuinely am at a loss for words in responding to this????
thank you so much for taking the time to read the notebook theory and to type out this response to the parts you have read :( i'm so so glad that you like it and im serious when i say that i'll be thinking about this ask for a while.
it's kinda crazy to me that things i've written stick with you and with others the way you've said they do, esp bc i feel like i've been in such a slump lately. it's a little beyond my brain space capacity to imagine and hearing it feels very crazy and surreal (in a good way). it makes me absolutely overjoyed to hear that my writing resonates with u in some way, shape, or form.
i sinCERELY hope you enjoy the rest of it. thank you so much for taking the time to come in here and be so kind and so thoughtful <3 im at a loss, but i love u and thank you <3
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boyfhee · 2 years ago
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i woke up, went on tumblr.com like one does, and the first thing i see is “to you, with love” reblogged for me. 
so i closed the app. screamed a bit into a pillow. and came back to write this.
THE THING IS.. i read that work, im pretty sure i even left an ask but it was more shy, timid (?)in a sense - “thank u, this was beautiful ,i cried.”cuz i was overwhelmed lol <- the lol is to make is seem more causal as if my heart didnt feel like it was punched ^^
but i remember vividly going through heeseung hashtag and seeing this for the first time.. and the title was cute, i was like “oh fluff”. i had not read the genre or warnings notes before diving into it….
so u can imagine my reaction to this sentence…
“however, heeseung’s death changed that for you.” BTW  ofc the best time to read angst its dead into the night with taylor swift playing on my headphones :>
if i remember correctly, you deleted it (?) and then posted it again? i read it the very first time it was uploaded. this might have been a changing point cuz i didn't read angst.. not in it full potential like that before this and know im knees deep 
i finished reading it. and time kinda froze. the concept of hearing the voice of the love of your life. when things were good, were fine. i wept. BUT hearing them talk about what future could hold for both of u? knowing what u know now? literally curled with my phone in my hand and bawled my eyes out
promises… the forever heartbreaking factor of life.. what are they? meant to be broken or kept.. maybe neither.. i hate them… they give false hope for those who long and yearn to be reassure and make u believe that a single person could hold such a power over the universe… well, heeseung certainly couldn't.. no matter how genuinely his heart was beating while he said “forever”
wow, im in my feels again, i just loved it, truly loved it and cherished it for so long, in my own little world with spiraling thoughts about this, 
thank u thank u thank u  thank u!!!!!!!!!!! ur works mean the world to me
im sorry for making u sad with my ask, but i cant help it :] u made me feel too much !!!!!!!!!!
i loved the poem. the flashbacks from the fic hit me like a truck. whats ur favorite poem? ^^ i would love to read some if u have a recommendation
thanks for the little career stuff note, i appreciate it a lot truly
thank u in general, ure the coolest writer,  love u too 
ps. hee angst ?? i might die tho
                                               - > swift anonie ♡♡♡
ANON MAY I INTEREST YOU IN ANOTHER THOUGHT I HAD . about 'to you, my love' being set after 'if lovesick was a person' 😁😁 IT FITS SO WELL im so devastated actually . and that's why they tell u to read the warnings but who am i to say bc i straight up jump to the content ( i like surprises ) also i didn't delete it, my brother deleted my whole acc before i remade under the same user and reposted it 😭 oh but im so honoured that was the beginning of your angst reading arc, you should not be missing out on such a genre
and ur thoughts on promises, umm i can't say you're all wrong but i think they can serve as a driving force to do something? like some sort of motivation, or a reason idk . obvs, not saying that empty promises should be made. actually i dont have any opinion here, head empty. please never apologise for sending sad asks or wtv, i enjoy reading ur thought processes ure really really cool 🫵💗 as for poem recs hmm; i wandered lonely as a cloud by willian wordsworth, cadabianca by felicia dorothea hemans, la belle dame sams merci by john keats, rain before dawn, on a play twice seen and marching streets by fitzgerlad ( anything by him and emily dickinson is worth reading ) that's all i have on the top of my head
and no, thank u for taking ur time to write these asks, you're even cooler than me fr ☝️
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elixirfromthestars · 3 months ago
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I’m gone. I’m so gone. I’ve been melted into a puddle of softness and fluffiness and it’s all because of your beautiful writing Mollie 😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ I need a moment because I’m genuinely overwhelmed in the best way on how sweet this was like 🥹💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗
Your Lumberjack Bucky has stolen my heart and I have so much to say so I’ll leave it under the cut 😌🫶🏼✨
First of all, I’m obsessed with the cover art like it’s so beautiful 🥺💖 you always choose the most aesthetically gorgeous pictures and it fits the fic so well like it’s stunning!! 🧡🧡
You write so vividly and paint the imagery of every scene so beautifully that I feel like I’m genuinely there. Like I can imagine everything in my mind and it’s the most wonderful thing!! 💖 I want to pinpoint all my favorite parts, but then I’d have to put the whole fic so I’l have to settle for picking a few 🤭❤️
The fact that he was so tired and yet all he could think about was making it home to his baby 🥺💗 And he’s the sweetest putting the necessity of others as a priority 🥺🥺 knowing they’d need the wood for the cold season 🪵🤎
The way he only thought of her all the way home. The wedding ring, the sunset, the nickname Bear I’m— 😭❤️❤️
You shifted the duvet to swaddle around his frame once he reached you, cocooning him in your accumulated warmth over the day. Feeling your bare skin against his after hours away from you was liberating, like he had ascended to heaven. Even after years of wedded bliss, Bucky still got tingles whenever the two of you touched.
You were pure magic wrapped in a bottle.
^ Pure magic wrapped in a bottle, EXCUSE ME 😭💗💗💗 It was already so cute how all he could do was admire his Dolly and want to be in her arms and now this??? 💞💞💞
I love how he found so much comfort from just hearing her talk about her day. Like all he needed was her touch and voice to take his exhaustion and turn it into comfort 🥺❤️
Because that was his goal in life. His vow to you in marriage. To make your life as easy and simple as possible. To bring you peace when the world threatened to dull your sparkle.
And boy was he satisfied to know he had achieved that.
^ I need Lumberjack Bucky to make my life simple and easy like are you kidding me he’s the sweetest!!! 😭💖 Vowing to make sure her sparkle stays. I CAN’T 🥹❤️❤️
The way you added the prompt in the end and wrapped it all up in the fluffiest cozy end with Dolly thanking Bucky for being the reason her heart beats 🥺💕💕
Mollie I don’t know what I’m going to do like I absolutely adore how you write Bucky and you always leave me so smitten with your portrayal of him 🥹💗💗
Thank you so much for joining my writing challenge, I feel so honored that mine was the first you’ve ever done 🥹💖 Also thank you for sharing with us this beautiful piece 🥹❤️ I already know I’m going to be obsessed (who am I kidding I’m already obsessed lol) with The Love In The Woods Collection, so be prepared to have me drop in and absolutely lose my mind at every part 😌💕💕💕
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A Balm To The Heart
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Pairing: Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Word Count: 1.2k
Summary: After a long day at the woodyard, Bucky finds peace in his best girl’s arms.
Warnings: Pure unfiltered fluff, like the fluffiest fluff that ever fluffed, Bucky’s POV, driving while sleepy (don’t do it!!), pet names, established relationship, oh and did I mention fluff?
Author’s Note: Divider by @saradika-graphics. Proofread by @buckys-wintersoldier thank you so much my darling, you’re my rock 🧡 This is part of @elixirfromthestars cafe writing challenge!! Using the prompt 🍞 “I like hearing your heart beating when I put my head on your chest.” My first ever challenge I’ve been apart of and I had the most fun with it!! Thank you, my sweet Mel! 🥰
The Love In The Woods Collection ❄️
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The sun began to lay on the precipice of the day, the light slowly fading out to make way for the dark of the night. Bucky fought the tiredness claiming his eyes, tempting him to fall asleep at the wheel. If you knew he was driving in his state, you’d throw a fit. 
But he had to make it home to his baby. 
Exhaustion weighed Bucky down from a long day at the woodyard. Hauling timber all day to prepare the town for the harsh winter coming up was enough to make his old joints ache with pain. However, with the lack of staff due to the storm blocking most of the roads, he had to do it all himself. 
Bucky just wanted to sink into you. 
All day, he was tormented by the prettiest image of you snuggled into your shared bed, pouty lips and pleading eyes begging him to call in sick, to stay home with you. 
And even though his sanity was tested, Bucky regretfully declined. All the old folks needed wood to keep their homes heated in the cold season and his mind wouldn’t have settled knowing a full day would be lost to his own selfishness. 
Though as he drove back to his cabin, rivers of golden beams shining into his truck, Bucky wished he had taken your offer.  
Although, his sourness sweetened into a warm affection as he caught the glint of his wedding ring in the dying sunlight. 
You love sunsets, Bucky smiled to himself. He had to take you to the top of the mountains to watch another one soon.
He could imagine you at home, watching the remnants of the day with its beautiful colours reflecting into your eyes. 
Sunsets mean the end of the day, fresh starts and hope that tomorrow will bring us more peace than today. Remember that, Bear. 
Your voice instantly calmed the mess in his mind, the stress that had wound his muscles tight. With a heavy sigh, Bucky let go of the toll the day had taken on him and instead focused on where the path ahead would lead him — you. 
The truck grumbled to a stop in the driveway and Bucky didn’t bother stopping to grab his tools or his bags. The pink painted door called to him, called your name, his home. 
Throwing the door open, Bucky quickly shook off his coat and boots. His steps didn’t falter as he made his way to the bedroom. Not when he began peeling his clothes off one by one on the way. Not when emotion clogged up his eyes at the smell of your sweet scent lingering around the house. 
And there you were as he entered his bedroom. Once crafted by his bare hands as part of his first home after he left college, now his safe space in which he was lucky enough to share with his wife. His haven. 
It looked like you hadn’t moved from the morning. Still tangled in the sheets, your hair was messy from your tossing and turning, though your skin glowed beautifully in the golden sunlight that shimmered through the window. The orange tones that tattooed your body almost gave you a vintage look and the sight was enough to render Bucky speechless. 
Just like the day you showed up on his doorstep after years apart. 
Your smile was blinding as you looked up at him, tearing yourself away from your fantasy book he knew you loved so much and placing it on the nightstand. “Hey, baby. I missed you.” 
If that didn’t do things to Bucky’s heart. 
“Dolly,” he gasped, a slight whine to his voice. 
Instantly, because you’re so well in tune with him, your arms opened wide — an invitation to join you. “Come here, you big lug.” 
Bucky didn't waste another second. Clad in only his underwear, he all but jumped onto the bed, the pristinely crafted wood of the frame creaking from old age. 
You shifted the duvet to swaddle around his frame once he reached you, cocooning him in your accumulated warmth over the day. Feeling your bare skin against his after hours away from you was liberating, like he had ascended to heaven. Even after years of wedded bliss, Bucky still got tingles whenever the two of you touched. 
You were pure magic wrapped in a bottle. 
“Can I lay my head on you?” Bucky asked quietly, relishing in the serenity you so easily provided him. 
You laughed, the sound mesmerising to his ears. “Like you even have to ask. Tell me about your day, Bear.” 
Needing no other permission, Bucky laid in your arms. Positioning his head on your chest, his arms wrapped around your stomach and his legs intertwined with yours. He was so much bigger than you, comically so. But Bucky needed to lose himself in your softness from time to time. 
He groaned as the muscles in his joints finally had a chance to relax. “I would much rather hear about your day, sweetheart. Lemme hear your voice for a while, will ya?” 
Bucky looked up to find your cheeks tightened from the large, bashful smile on your face, one that he knew you had tried to smother but failed to do so. They were his favourite. 
You shook your head fondly and squeezed him before beginning to recall your day. It wasn’t filled with much — mostly with bathroom breaks when you could rip yourself out of bed, a trip to the home library down the hall to pick the next book of your series, and lastly an hour of baking. Even so, Bucky listened to you intently, his soul replenishing more with each activity you listed off. 
Because that was his goal in life. His vow to you in marriage. To make your life as easy and simple as possible. To bring you peace when the world threatened to dull your sparkle. 
And boy was he satisfied to know he had achieved that. 
Bucky’s eyes began to grow heavy, the kind that he couldn’t fight any longer. You must have noticed from the loosening of his limbs and the sudden lightness to his body. “Are you sleepy, baby?” 
The rhythm of your heart soothed him as he murmured a lazy hum of agreement. 
“You can rest now, Bear.” Your soft voice sounded further away as sleep started to overtake him, like the prettiest lullaby he’d ever heard. “I’ve got you.” 
Before the whispers of slumber could steal him, though, Bucky smiled — drunken and free. “I like hearing your heart beating when I put my head on your chest.”
The giggle that vibrated from your body to his only made him fall even more in love with you. Bucky purred like a cat as you ran your nails through his hair and finally let himself go. 
The last sensation that registered in his mind was the feeling of your lips pressed against his head and a last declaration of love. “Thank you for being the reason it does.” 
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duplicitywrites · 3 years ago
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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💖
also tagged by the lovely @phantomato, @purplewitch156, and @cauldroncake, thank you all!
i don't think i really have favourites... i tend to write things and then forget about them. these are five of my favourites out of what i have completed thus far.
Break and Burn and End | M | 17.3k
i keep coming back to this one, idk, i just think it has a lot of meaning. i like the themes i explored in regards to life and immortality.
Summary:
Past and present, Harry and Voldemort are connected. A tale of two immortals and the question of what it means to have an adversary when forever is in the cards.
Difficulties | T | 1.8k
first person pov, this is a character study on a modern!tom and his relationship with harry. i still think about it often.
Summary:
I tap my fingers on my desk, I watch the screen of my phone for messages. I distract myself for a time with this thing or that, then return to thoughts of Harry. Is he thinking of me as I think of him? Do I haunt the darkest corner of his mind like a childhood monster? I would let Harry devour me; all that I am, all that I will be. I would let him know every hideous, vile thought that ever crossed my mind if he were to ask after them.
Eudaimonia | E | 15.6k
this hits that sweet spot of supremely interesting and supremely fucked up. i think if i were to rewrite this, i would give more attention to the ending. but, on the whole, i like how it is.
Summary:
Harry travels back in time to save Merope Gaunt from dying. He takes her in, heals her illness, helps her when she gives birth to her son... and then falls prey to her love potion.
Tom grows up with mother and father both, in a household that might generously be called a happy one. When Merope insists that Tom not attend Hogwarts, Harry reluctantly agrees to homeschool their son himself.
Despite his lack of exposure to the outside world, it doesn't take Tom long to realize something is off about his parents' marriage.
It takes even less time for him to decide his loving father deserves better.
Shining Just For You | M | 21.8k
an older work of mine. the loose concept is one i always wanted to write, and i'm glad i did. it's heavy on codependency, so in that way i kind of see it as a comfort fic.
Summary:
Smashing a mirror gives you seven years bad luck.
For an eleven-year-old Harry, it gives him seven years of Tom Riddle.
No Body, No Crime | M | 20k
this story is one i imagined, quite vividly, as a movie. the dark, small-town mystery vibe was fun to dabble in.
Summary:
Harry works as a car mechanic in a small town. He and Ginny are best friends, their close bond the product of a traumatic event that scarred them both as children.
Now that they are adults with separate lives, it seems inevitable that they will drift apart. That is, until Ginny confides in Harry that she thinks her husband—the charming, enigmatic Tom Riddle—is cheating on her.
A day later, Ginny goes missing. Harry is convinced that Tom is behind her disappearance, and becomes determined to exact justice by any means necessary.
ask me again in a month and my answer will probably change 💀
not sure who to tag who hasn't already been hit by the love bullet
@goldenzingy46 @isleoffanfiction @twelfthcenturyname @god-of-dust @keidaught if you want to!
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sunnysunoo · 4 years ago
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Love Letters ; Sim Jake
Pairing: Jake X Reader
warnings: explicit language and cursing
word count: 3k words
genre: friends to lovers au! fluff with tiny pieces of crack lmao
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Jake was always known for being this perfect guy in school. I mean, they're not wrong. They always described him as if he's this walking piece of art in the hallways. People would stop to just stare at him. You'd stare at him all day too, but you set priorities first: writing him love letters.
You're no Lara Jean, but I guess you can say that she's what inspired you to write Jake letters. Who needs Peter Kavinsky when Jake Shim exists anyways?
note: Not me completely disappearing off of tumblr for like months and then showing up again suddenly lol. I got really busy the past few months since I was completing requirements for school, and I really didn't have the motivation to do anything at the time so I took so time off to take care of myself first so I hope you understand :) But now since it's summer break, I am given at least 2 more months until I go back to school in August :)) Here's the long-awaited Jake imagine that I completely forgot about lmao hope you enjoy <3
P.S I finished writing this at 1:26 am so please excuse the really shitty plot and grammar ill rewrite it once i wake up
tag list: @cha-raena ( sorry for the rlly late post bestie )
Dear Jake, First of all, I will never call you Jaeyun because calling you by your English name makes me feel like I'm your friend. Calling you by your Korean name makes us feel like we're cold strangers to one another and I don't want that. I want us to be something more than that, but it's hard when you don't even know who I am. I'm surprised how you don't grow tired of me just dropping letters right into your locker every time you open it, and that's one of the things I love about you. You don't just throw away people's efforts and you treasure them with care. It makes my heart beat so fast as if I ran miles away from here.
We're already one year left until we graduate high school, and I don't want to end my high school years without you realizing my feelings for you. I know for sure that you would never reciprocate the feelings that I have towards you, so I want to treat this as closure in case we do forget about each other in the future. Yours truly,
Moon
__
"How is this person not over you? That's like the tenth one this month," Jay said, looking over Jake as he reads the letter from his secret admirer. Jake has always been receiving these letters from the same person everyday for the past four months. He's thankful for the letters because they definitely make his day better, knowing that there's someone out there who loves him as who he is regardless of looks. He's not gonna lie that these little notes and letters make his heart race too. "Do you have any plans with finding the person behind the letters?" Jay asked as he watches his best friend trying to hide the small smile that's been growing. No one really knows who this mysterious person is and why they decided to name themselves the moon, but we don't judge anyone in here. If they want to be the moon in their next life, then so be it. "I really want to find the person who's making these letters," Jake shoved the letter in his backpack, trying to not wrinkle it. "But I don't know where to start." "Who's finding who?" A voice popped suddenly beside the presence of the two boys. You leaned beside the locker beside Jake's, watching him as he grabs his books from his locker. "Did Moon drop your daily letter today again?" "They did as usual," Jake wasn't even surprised. He would expect the letters every time he enters the school in the morning. He would open his locker to see the usual small letter placed inside his locker. He usually arrives at seven or earlier, but he's surprised that he could never even catch a glance of this anonymous sender around the campus. "Should I go to school at five in the morning?" "Five in the morning? Isn't that a bit too early?" You questioned, followed by a shaky breath. "The school doesn't even open until six." "I could just walk to that nearby convenience store I always pass by to grab a coffee." He argues, closing his locker shut before walking towards his classroom.
You and Jay followed beside him, and you sneered under your breath, "You don't even wake up to your alarm clock."
"Why don't you even want me to go early anyway?" He glances as you try to give him an answer. But before you could say something, Jay replies first.
"You’re probably hiding something." He said. You rolled your eyes and narrowed your eyes at him. "You are so weird." You grunted, before walking ahead of them. You feel panicked because you were scared that you made yourself obvious to them.
__
You were inside your classroom sitting on your desk. There were only fifteen minutes left before lunch, but you had eaten your packed meal before instead of going to your school cafeteria. You were fidgeting in your place, conflicted about Jake finding his secret admirer, not knowing that it was you who's been sending him letters the past few months. You're not scared of him finding out that the letters were from you; that was the entire reason why you wrote him letters in the first place. You're scared of how he was gonna confront you about it. Would he like you back? Would he hate you? Would he avoid you?
Your mind was full of scenarios but you were suddenly brought back to reality when a hand planted itself on your desk. You look up and saw Jay standing in front of you, eating sushi with his other hand. His face kinda looks like he knows something, and it's freaking you out a bit.
"What?" You asked, suddenly flustered over how his eyes stared right into you. He took the seat in front of your desk and flipped it so it was facing you. He sat down and blurted the phrase that you were dreading to hear from anyone.
"So, you like Jake?"
You suddenly feel like punching him in the face with his sushi.
"What??" Your body felt like, and you were left a nervous mess. Your heart like it was going to pump right out of your chest any minute, and your hands started to sweat.
Jay's mouth formed into a smirk. He caught you. "Jake may be a bit oblivious, but I can totally see right through you."
“Haha...no you don’t,” You tried to deny, but it was all useless when his expression looked unconvinced.
“Oh yeah? Then why are you all red? You look like a bursting tomato.”
“You don’t know that," You leaned further into your seat, playing with the strings of your hoodie.
“C’mon Y/N, you’re not even trying. Just give up and admit it,” Jay was trying to help you confess your feelings for Jake. Frankly, he knew it was you sending him letters this whole time—how can Jake not see it?
With a heavy sigh, you slumped and laid your head on your desk, embarrassed. “Fine. I like him, okay? Are you happy now?”
The smirk on his face grew wider, feeling proud of himself. You are not dealing with his annoying crap this early in the morning. He grinned and munched on his half-eaten sushi. “I knew it.”
“Congratulations,” It was muffled because you hid your red face away from him. All that was on your mind now was how you could book yourself a flight all the way across the world.
“But seriously, since when did you have a crush on him?” You raised your head to face him, giving him a look that could kill, except Jay finds it entertaining rather than intimidating.
“I started having a crush on him when we were in fifth grade. It was at a friend's birthday party, and he saw me being all quiet and lonely. Honestly, I forgot who’s birthday that was.” You told him the very first time you had discovered feelings.
“He saw how sad I looked so he accompanied me the whole time. He was even trying to feel more included in the games and stuff.” You felt a smile ghosting on your lips as you can still vividly remember how you felt your heart tug the first time. “It was kinda like I fell in love at first sight.”
Jay faked a gag, so you lightly punched him in the shoulder. He may be a bit of an asshole, but he’s one the most caring and kind people you’ve ever met. It honestly felt good spilling out your feelings about Jake to him.
Speaking of, Jake was watching you two play around and laugh at Jay's little jokes from outside, and he felt something burning from inside him. Was it that he felt jealous of you and Jay?
No, he can’t be...right?
Maybe it was because of how he felt separated from you and Jay because of him being a separate class.
Yeah, maybe it's because of that.
__
Dear Jake,
I just had the most bizarre day today, and I felt like telling you about it.
It was chemistry period, and we had to be partnered with someone for a lab project. I ended up getting paired with Yeojin. We kinda created this unexpected friendship, which I love. We would crack jokes at each other, tell funny stories, it was so fun to be with her that we had completely forgotten about our project. So now, we both got a detention slip for making an accidental explosion.
How about you? How was your day? I hope it was just as fun as mine. If you feel like the day just wasn't as happy or you're feeling down, just now that it's okay to feel that way because days like these just lasts for 24 hours. It will be all over before you know it and you'll be greeted by another day. Maybe it will be different, and you would be all happy again just like how my day went. Maybe being with you would be my happiest day yet, and I couldn't wait for that day to come. See you soon :)
Love,
Moon
__
"Yeojin!" Jake called, seeing her walk down the opposite way. "Hey, mind if I ask you something?"
"Hey Jake," She greeted him with a smile. "Sure, go ahead."
"Could you perhaps give me any information about your partner in Chemistry?" He had hopes of getting any kind of description about his mysterious sender, but he was instead given a sad frown on Yeojin's face.
"Sorry Jake, but that person told me not to tell you about their information." She gave an apologetic smile. "I wish you all the best in finding them!"
Jake muttered a small "okay," and sighed before walking away, feeling defeated.
Yeojin knew that he was gonna ask about Moon the moment he called her from across the hall. She couldn't wait to tell you about this.
__
"Hey Y/N," A voice said from behind. You turned around to see Jake with his backup hung on his shoulder. He brought his hand up and raked his hair, and you felt your face grow red. Jake is like a gift from the gods. How can someone look so ethereal even if they're just standing there? You could stare at him all day. You couldn't even understand a thing he said until he started waving his hands in front of you.
"Hello?" You blinked multiple times as you were brought back out to reality. You saw Jake's face grow into concern. "Are you okay? spaced out."
"O-oh..No, I'm completely fine." You reassured him, feeling embarrassed. "What were you saying again?"
"I was asking you if you wanted to go to school with me early tomorrow."
Well, shit.
Your eyes started to go wide, and your hands started to go clammy.
"Tomorrow?" You repeated, voice trembling.
'Well, yeah." He pouted his lips, and you felt like melting into a small puddle in your place. Your heart started to pound heavily.
Oh my fucking god, he is so adorable.
"Okay, sure I can go with you tomorrow," You weakly smiled at him, slightly tense.
How we're you going to give him the letter now?
__
"Good Morning," Jake said as he watches you close the gates of your house. It was past five in the morning, and you were a mess.
"Morning," You replied back before running your fingers through your hair, getting rid of any flyaways.
As you started walking your way to the bus stop, Jake kept on glancing towards you from time to time. He knew you were pretty, but since when did you become really beautiful in his eyes?
The walk was pretty quiet, but it was a comfortable silence. For him, mostly.
Meanwhile, you couldn't stop freaking out. You had written a letter the night before, but you don't know how you were going to slip it into his locker without him taking notice. If he saw you, he would know.
"Are you sure you're okay? You've been like this since yesterday," Jake blurted. You looked at him before heaving a sigh.
"It's nothing," You mouthed, suddenly feeling anxious and gloomy.
"Something on your mind?"
"Something like that." It was hopeless. I guess he would have to miss this letter today. It was the first time you skipped a day, and you're feeling guilty that you would have to see Jake's face sadden that he wouldn't receive it today.
As you two stop at the bus stop, Jake looked slightly panicked as he was rummaging through the pockets of his blazer before looking through his bag. "Hey, do you have an extra pen? I left mine at home and I have a quiz today."
You snickered, "Out of all the days, Sim Jake. The same day you have a quiz is the same day you forget your pen."
"Very funny." He scoffed.
As you unzipped your bag to grab your pencil case, a folded piece of paper fell out without you realizing it. When Jake went to pick it up, he notices that it was folded the same way as the letters in his locker. It looked so identical.
Once you already got your pencil case out, you were about to hand it to him when you saw what he was holding that made your body freeze with your hand holding the case in the air.
"Why were one of my letters inside your bag?" He glanced at you, waiting for you to reply.
If you were freaking out before, this is a whole other thing. The thing that you were fearing the most is happening right before you.
"Maybe it fell into my bag yesterday..." You stammered, making up an excuse to look like it was an accident. You were tightly holding onto your pencil case, chanting many curse words in your head as you watch Jake unfold the letter.
"I don't think I've received this one yet," He said before he opened the letter and read it.
You watch as his expression formed into confusion as he reads through the paper. It only took a few moments before something in him clicked that it was you sending him the letters.
"Y/N," He began, and you started quivering in fear.
You should've known this would happen, but you didn't expect it to happen this sooner. In fact, you believed that this wouldn't happen at all. But it did.
"Let me explain," You eventually gave up and accepted fate and watch as your identity as "Moon" be revealed to your crush. You're now exposed so you didn't have any other choice but to explain everything. "Yes, I am Moon. I was the one writing you the letters that you've been getting in your locker."
Jake's face was unreadable. He looked bewildered and puzzled. He was trying to comprehend what was happening right now. All this time, it was you?
"I started crushing on you when we attended that birthday party before. I didn't want to confess my feelings for you because I was scared that you were going to harshly reject me, so I started writing down letters as a way to tell you how I feel about you without making you feel awkward around me." You continued, eyes suddenly taking an interest in your shoes. They were brand new too.
Jake was silent, and you felt your heart crack into pieces. You were mad at yourself for being so careless about it that he ended up finding out about you as his secret admirer. You wanted nothing else but to run back home, lock yourself in your room and cry with your sad playlist on loop.
You were expecting a harsh rejection coming from him, but what surprised was how he took dangerous steps towards you, minimizing the gap between you two. He placed his hand under your chin, forcing you to look up at him.
"I don't plan on rejecting you Y/N," You stare into his eyes as it reflects the sunlight of the early morning. "I'm actually happy that it was you."
You look at him, puzzled. He lowly chuckles under his breath before leaning over to place his lips against yours. It was a light, quick kiss, but it brought you feeling ecstatic. You've dreamed of this moment before, and now that it happened, you thanked your clumsiness.
As he pulled away, you were sure your face was a red mess.
"Thank you," His smile was as bright as the stars in the sky. It was the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. "Thank you for making me like I'm special to someone."
You felt flustered over his words. You were scared that he could hear the sound of your heart pounding loudly. The butterflies in your stomach were going wild, and you felt like this was all a dream.
"So, what am I to you now?" You broke into a smile as he grabs your hand, intertwining your fingers with his.
Jake acted as if he was thinking, "Hm..maybe my best friend still?"
He bursts into a fit of giggles as he sees your smile slowly disappear, replacing it with a look of disbelief. You removed your hand from his and walked at a faster pace away from him.
He ran to match your pace beside you before holding your hand again, "I'm sorry, I won't ever do that again. Is my girl mad at me?"
"Oh my god, it's only five-fifty, Jake." You too broke into laughter over his cheesiness, but your heart fluttered over the thought of Jake calling you his.
__
HERE’S A LITTLE BONUS! since I've made you guys wait for 4 months :(
"What the fuck?" Was the first thing You heard from Jay as you and Jake entered the classroom. All of your classmates were staring at your and his hands intertwined together.
Jay stood in front of you two, crossing his arms together. "Can one of you explain when this happened?" he motioned towards your linking hands. You and Jake smiled at each other before walking away, leaving Jay in a fit of joy, and confusion.
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folkloreguk · 4 years ago
Text
❥ My Sweet Evil Heart (C.Chanhee)
A/N: I wrote this as part of an angel/demon collab for The Boyz! You can find the masterlist HERE. This was really fun to write and I got to live out my alternate universe dream in which I'm a detective...I hope you like it, I'm always welcome to any form of feedback!
genre: demon!Chanhee, detective!reader, angst, fluff, reader is constantly sleep deprived, Chanhee is the sweetest demon ever
synopsis: You, a highly respected detective in your department, are investigating a case of a very strange demon who seems hesitant to do evil...but can you trust someone who is supposed to be the personification of wickedness?
words: ~ 10.6k
Have you ever met someone deeply unhappy? Someone who seems to, at all times, be fighting a war inside of themselves? Have you ever felt empathy for somebody, even though they tested you, over and over, as if the worst part inside of them was trying to make them lose you on purpose? Did you hold on and never stop believing in them? Or did you say something to drive them away, making them think they would only hurt you in the process of you trying to make them see clearer?
This is the story of a demon, whose every cell demurred at his evil nature. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves and start with the basics.
Being one of the head detectives at the local police station was not an easy-going, nor an amusing job. Whilst working on serious cases, lacking proper sleep was not an uncommon occurrence for you, and in some instances, self-care came up short until the mystery had been solved and the guilty ones were locked away. Every case pulled you in and swallowed you whole, keeping you deeply invested for days and nights until your brain felt like it had turned to mush and your body worked on autopilot, until you functioned a little like a highly intelligent zombie. And yet, you couldn’t imagine yourself doing anything else in your life. The thrill was close to an obsession, and seeing justice being served thanks to your work was more addicting than any drug could ever be to you.
Most crimes in your world were committed by demons, of course. They were your worst enemies, the monsters you saw in your nightmares and the reason you never strolled down a street without a gun by your hip. It wasn’t forbidden for them to walk the earth, so long as they kept to themselves. Their evil nature made it almost impossible for them to uphold these terms, though. You wished you could lock them all away in some putrid prison cell, or better yet, send them back to where they crawled out from originally. But the law couldn’t convict beings before they had done anything wrong. So, it was on you to make sure you kept an eye on the sinister beings, figure out what they were up to and stop them before they could actually hurt somebody. Like that morning, when you were called to a liquor store to investigate a break-in.
“My name is Y/F/N Y/L/N, I am the lead investigator,” you greeted the store owner with a handshake upon arrival. “Can you tell me exactly what happened?”
“I came here this morning at around 7 to open up the store. When I got out of my car, I saw the broken glass of the window,” he explained.
“What was taken from inside the store?” you inquired further.
“That’s the weird thing. Nothing is missing from inside,” he said.
“We might just be dealing with vandalism,” you thought out loud. “Do you have security cameras?”
He did, and so you went along with him to the back of the store. It was true, the interior of the shop seemed completely untouched. You suspected whoever had done this had never even intentioned on entering. There was a college campus not too far from the store, and you recalled countless times you had witnessed careless vandalism done by some intoxicated students during a Friday night. It was a very human-like crime. Demons weren’t known to do things by halves. Their crimes were usually the go-big-or-go-home-type of crimes. But then, when you watched the security footage, you were stunned.
At precisely 3:29 am, a dark figure appeared in front of the window. They lifted their arms, swinging a baseball bat against the glass. And against your speculation, they did climb through the hole in the window. With no mask or disguise whatsoever, the demon man looked right into the camera in the corner of the room. The abyss of darkness in his pitch black eyes was unmistakable. He looked around, as if he was debating on whether he should have done more, but then, to your utter confusion, spun around on his heel and climbed right back out the window.
You assured the store owner you would be looking into this case. With nothing left to do, you headed back to the police station. You had taken the security footage with you, and the moment you arrived in your office, you played it on your computer screen. Over and over - only puzzling you more, with each rerun you saw. You worried this might only be a warning. Not seldom had you been a witness to demons playing with their prey, feeding off the fear of innocent souls. Was this one indulging in one of those little twisted games? Right away, you uploaded the demon’s face onto the database for criminals, even if vandalism didn’t compare to the serious allegations that stood against other faces on that list. While you turned your attention to other cases, his features wouldn’t leave your mind. Even when you left your office at night, he was still the most prominent person in your memory.
By the time you began your walk to your home, the sun had disappeared. You couldn’t help it, even if technically you could finish work earlier, your desire to solve your assigned cases was always higher. Had you just walked home at 5 pm, you were sure to end up on your computer at home, researching and digging around on the web to discover possible clues. This way, at least you had all resources you would need at your office at the police station.
Now, in the dark, the streets were rather abandoned, most shops had already closed, and the moon dimly cast light through the clouds. Those conditions were what made it a breeze for you to notice your shadow. The figure had been following you for 5 minutes now. Judging by how carelessly loud their steps sounded and by their not-so subtle choices of hiding spots, you could tell this wasn’t something they had practice in. Purposely, you didn’t turn around, so they wouldn’t realize you had caught on to them a while ago. Instead, only a minute or so from your home, you took a turn left into an abandoned alleyway. Your hand was on the gun in your belt.
Just as you had stepped into the alley, you turned. He was right behind you. With dark orbs glaring and teeth snarling he came at you, knife in hand. Your eyes widened – you recalled his face vividly – as you took in the situation in the blink of an eye. After all, you had watched the security tape of him breaking into the liquor store countless times only hours ago. But you had the upper hand from the very moment you had spun around. His build wasn’t particularly strong, but you knew you should never underestimate demons. You grabbed his shoulders and along with him, your body crashed against the red brick wall to your left. He struggled against your grip, but his determined and feisty expression was the by far the most intimidating part about him. His face was inches from yours but looking into the sort of darkness that were demon’s eyes did nothing to you. Your hand was around his wrist with the knife – which he was aggressively trying to bring down on you – but only at first.
Because suddenly, something uncommon occurred. So uncommon, in fact, that not a single cell in your body could believe it. He willingly dropped the blade. It hit the asphalt, the metallic sound echoing in your ears. He relaxed his arm in your iron grip. Demons never gave up. They fought until you had forcefully brought them to the ground or done worse to them. Their ironic god-complex and evilness didn’t allow them to step away from a fight – until this one had come along, apparently. And then, as if his behavior hadn’t already stunned you enough, he did the unthinkable.
“I’m sorry,” he said. Without a doubt you thought you had misheard him. Swiftly, you pulled your gun out of your belt and pointed it at his face. One thing you knew. You weren’t going to play along in his little games. In panic, he rose his hands, showing defeat.
“Quit playing games, devil’s son,” you hissed. “What is it you’re trying to achieve here? You’re sorry? For what?”
He was hesitant. With every second, your curiosity only grew. Either, he was a skilled actor or…you had no idea what else it could’ve been about him.
“I almost killed you. That’s what I’m sorry for,” he said. “Does that get me a prison sentence?”
Your eye twitched because this didn’t seem right at all.
“You broke into a shop and attacked me, but then stopped out of your free will,” you assessed the situation. “You’ll most likely get away with a fine and your name in our register.”
If you had been awaiting an evil grin or any sort of enjoyment in his face, you’d be waiting endlessly. If anything, he seemed to be…disappointed?
“But you’re a cop, right?” he said. “You can lock me up, can’t you?”
“Didn’t you hear what I said? You won’t be locked up if you don’t commit a crime severe enough. As much as I hate it, considering you demons are running free, it’s the law,” you said.
“You don’t get it,” he said. And he was right, you really had no idea. “I should be locked up. You need to get me to jail before I hurt somebody.”
His face was dead serious, but you didn’t want to believe a single word. How could you, when your daily life consisted of hunting down his kind, because all they brought upon the earth was chaos and death?
“Give me one good reason why I should believe you,” you said, unimpressed.
“I will tell you anything you want to hear,” he said. “If you bring me to a police station. You guys have these lie detectors, don’t you? I will take a test if that’s what it takes for you to believe me.”
~
So, that was how half an hour later you still hadn’t returned at home, but rather found yourself back at the police station. Almost everyone had gone home by now, so you took the liberty to choose the biggest interrogation room available. A few minutes and he was sitting in front of you, hands in handcuffs and his body connected to the lie detector.
“Okay, here’s how this works. I’ll start by asking some simple questions, and then we’ll get to the bottom of whatever your intentions are,” you explained.
“Alright. Go ahead,” he said. This was your first time seeing a demon take this sort of test. Usually, you couldn’t be bothered because you knew all they did was lie whilst smiling you in the face.
“What’s your name?”
“Choi Chanhee.”
“Where were you born?”
“In hell.”
“Did you break into a liquor store last night?”
“Yes.”
“Did you intend on killing me tonight?”
“…Yes.”
“Is that your definite answer?”
“…No.”
“How come both of your last two answers are lies?” you asked. “You didn’t intend on killing me, but yes is your definite answer?”
“I can’t stop the evil in me but I’m trying,” he said. You were stunned. The answer was the most truthful of them all.
“What do you mean?” you asked.
“I was never like the others since I came to earth. I’ve never felt a rush like they do, causing mischief and hurting humans. I don’t belong. It’s as if there was a demon inside of me, but it’s not controlling all of me, do you understand?” he said.
“I’m not sure, but go on,” you said.
“I don’t want to hurt anybody or destroy things. But on some days, I’m walking down the street and my body starts following the devil’s orders instead. I usually snap out of it quickly and stop myself. That’s why you’re still alive,” he explained.
“You’re telling me you’re some sort of good demon?” you asked. “Why don’t you go back to hell, if you’re struggling so much on earth?”
“I hate it there,” he said. “And either way, I’m banned from there forever.”
Your head raised as you stared at him.
“Banned?” you asked.
“I stopped a bunch of demons from killing a woman once,” he said. “Safe to say they weren’t happy to hear that, back at home. I couldn’t go back, even if I wanted to.”
“Can you tell me the name of the woman?” you asked. And he did. All this time, he really had been telling the truth. When you searched up the woman’s name in the computer, it only confirmed your suspicion. She really had been under attack when an unidentified person had interrupted and saved her life.
“I can tell you names of demons,” he said. “If you do me the favor of locking me up, I can sell out everyone I know about.”
You massaged the sides of your head and sighed. This guy really was one of a kind.
“I already told you, I can’t put you in jail for something you didn’t do,” you said. “That’s against the law, and then it’ll be me who ends up behind bars instead of you. I’ll have to let you go.”
“What if I mess up?” he said. The amounts of firsts you were experiencing in the timespan of an hour were giving you a headache. Never had you felt compassion for a demon before. But you were only human, and when you noticed the genuine concern and insecurity in his soft voice, you couldn’t stop yourself.
“How long have you been on earth for?” you asked.
“I don’t know, a few years, I guess?” he said.
“And in those few years, which of your deeds would you rate the most criminal out of all?” you asked. Any other demon would have been able to give you multiple answers, one more vicious than the other. He, on the other hand, took his time and even when he answered, he didn’t sound at all sure.
“I’ve broken into a house before, destroyed a car window and one time I stole a dog,” he confessed with his head tilted towards the floor.
“What happened to the dog?”
“I…gave it back,” he said. A laughter erupted from your throat against your will. In a friendly manner, you pat his shoulder before retrieving the keys to his handcuffs.
“Trust me, you’ll be just fine out there,” you said. “Whatever it is you’re doing to stop yourself from being evil, it’s working. I will let you go now."
Even though he wasn’t happy with your answer, he knew he had no choice but to comply. As you walked him through the hallways towards the exit of the station, you could only think of one thing: your beloved bed. Not only your body but especially your brain was drained from energy. You desperately needed a refill by getting a good night’s sleep.
“You’re the first person who’s been really kind to me,” he said, as you held the door open for him. The night air was cool, and you quickly zipped up your jacket to your chin.
“You gave me no reason not to be,” you replied.
“I almost stabbed you,” he said, bluntly.
“Almost.”
“For most people, me being a demon is reason enough to loathe me.”
“Well I guess I’m not most people,” you said. His smile was gentle, but his black eyes would always give him away. “I’ll be here at the station every day, if you have any concerns or need somebody to consult. But right now, all I want is my bed.”
“I understand,” he replied. “Thank you. Goodbye.”
“Good night,” you said, before you parted ways. Once more, you journeyed home. He remained on your mind until the moment you slipped off to dreamland that night.
~
The days passed without a trace of him. You followed your routine, but one thing you couldn’t help. You simply had to tell every person who worked with you about the changed demon you had met. No one really wanted to believe you. It was kind of understandable. Some thought you were testing their skills, seeing if they could figure out you were lying. Others went as far as to suspect your lack of sleep had given you hallucinations. But you didn’t let it go. And after all, you were a highly respected member of the police force. Some said they wanted to meet this demon gentleman, as they had renamed him.
But then you were called to a brand new homicide investigation and all of the jokes at the station were blown away by the intensity and buzz the case brought with it. You had a murder to solve. There was no place for sweet demon men in any part of your brain. Not for now. And as always, you slipped into old habits – staying up all night, living on coffee and quick meals – the toxic behavior was almost inescapable. Your fellow detectives tried their best to keep you healthy and most importantly, sane. They took you with them to get salad for lunch, invited you over for game nights (a futile attempt at giving you a break) and told you to go to sleep on time. After all, they needed your brain to function at full capacity for the case. You knew people were relying on your knowledge, and you weren’t doubting your capabilities. But a highly intelligent zombie was still a zombie. And so it happened that one Thursday night your boss sent you home. Not because you weren’t doing a good job – rather for of the opposite reason.
“You are allowed back at the station when you’ve caught a full night’s sleep. Do what it takes to take care of yourself,” your boss had said. Her tone displayed as much strictness as her eyes showed concern. Truth be told, you were too exhausted to even argue against her order. That’s when you knew. You really needed a rest. You dragged your body home.
“Hello sweetheart,” you greeted your pet bird, who chirped excitedly when you set foot into your apartment. “Guess what. I’m home early.”
As much as you wanted to drop into a slumber right away, your stomach growled. And you weren’t in the mood to wake up half-starved. As you prepared some left-overs from the fridge, you heard your bird call from the living room. “Peek-a-boo!” he sang. It caught your attention. He only played this game with you – when you were outside in your small garden and he was watching you through the window. So who exactly was he talking to, now?
You picked up a knife, because as a detective it was practically your job to be paranoid, and tiptoed into the living room. It would be harder for an intruder to spot you in the dark, so you pushed the light switch. Slowly, you advanced to the window and gently pulled the curtains aside. A shiver ran down your spine when you saw the figure standing between the trees. They didn’t seem to be hiding, if anything they were lazily resting their back against the garden fence. Maybe they weren’t aware you were watching them. Bold of them to assume they could intimidate you by acting so nonchalant. You cracked the window open slightly.
“If you don’t leave my property within the next ten seconds, I’ll have you arrested for trespassing,” you announced. The figure flinched. The moment he stepped into the moonlight and raised his arms, you remembered his face.
“Choi Chanhee?” You opened the terrasse door and stepped outside.
“Are you going to hurt me?” he asked, eyes glued to the knife in your hands. Quickly, you lowered your hand.
“What are you doing here?” you asked instead of answering his question.
“I didn’t know where else to go,” he admitted.
“And so you thought creeping around in a police woman’s backyard was an appropriate thing to do? Wait…have you been stalking me?” you asked. You should have cut back on the sharp tone, but you felt half-asleep and this was the last thing you needed. Plus, the immanent realization hit you, that you had not noticed him at all. You had been so caught up in your work that you had not recognized a demon lingering around your home address, watching you. It hurt your pride a little – and could have ended very differently, had it been a more malovent demon than the one standing in front of you. This one looked terrified, kneading his hands nervously.
“I thought you wouldn’t be upset with me…that maybe you would understand. Because you’ve been the only one who’s listened to me. I’m just trying to find a purpose,” he said, “And my head tells me you’re the right direction.”
Demons. They’ve always had a fondness for the dramatic. But his words tore at your heart strings. His behavior resembled a child who had done wrong and was in the process of being scolded.
“Do you have no home?” you asked, softening your voice.
“I’ve lived with other demons. But they don’t want me there, anymore,” he said. For obvious reasons, you thought. Your head was racing. There was no way you could leave him standing there in the cold. But letting a demon into your home sounded like you must have had a death wish. It’s not like you didn’t have enough space, though. With an extra guest bedroom that nobody had ever used before, he would be just fine. There was no excuse. You cursed your parents for making you get a bigger apartment “In case you got married and had children soon.” You never know what could happen, they had said. And how wrong they had been, but how right they had been on that last part.
“Would you say you’re a tidy person?” you asked. A gigantic yawn came over you, and once again your stomach grumbled.
“What? I mean…I think so?” he said.
“Are you hungry?” You were in disbelief. Maybe it was the zombie in you that had a heart so soft, it took pity on a demon.
“I’m starving,” he said.
And that was how you came to have dinner with a demon. Spoiler alert: It wouldn’t be the last time. You ate quietly, trying hard to fight tiredness but it was no use. Afterwards, you showed him the room he could stay in.
“How do I make this up to you?” he asked.
“We’ll think about that another time, alright?” you said, “I need to sleep now. I’ve got an unsolved murder case waiting on me tomorrow.”
That night, you locked your bedroom door and slept with your gun on your nightstand. Just in case. Even though you were almost fully convinced the demon in the bedroom across the hall was more harmless than a five-year-old, he was still a demon.
~
When you woke up and saw your boss’ message on your phone, you couldn’t believe it. She wanted you to stay at home for the day. Apparently, you needed the rest and she had no interest in getting into trouble for overworking you (which she obviously wasn’t, you were the one doing this to yourself). When you walked down the stairs, you had almost forgotten about the previous night. It felt a little like it had all just been one wild fever dream – that was, until you spotted the demon sitting on your sofa, your pet bird on his shoulder.
“I let him out, I hope that was okay,” he said. You were dumbfounded. “Listen, I just wanted to say…thank you. Tell me whatever you need me to do and I’ll get it done for you.”
You wanted to go to work. But you knew he would be no help making that possible. Your mind was already wandering off to your case, the tips of your fingers burning with anticipation to search the internet for clues. Your grumbling belly interrupted your eagerness.
“Um…you could go to the grocery store for me?” you asked.
~
You went back to work the next day. Unsure of what to do, you decided to keep your demon housemate a secret for now. The other detectives would have probably written you off as insane, and you needed them to take you seriously. To be fair, maybe you were a little crazy. But he had been really good on the first day. Only one incident, which involved him dropping an egg on the kitchen floor, stood out to you. Of course, that could happen to anyone. But any other person would not have apologized in the way that he did. Normal people wouldn’t have acted so guilty, had it been an accident. But as long as his malice remained to that extent, you could live with it. You almost laughed at the idea of him purposely watching the egg roll off the counter and not doing anything.
He sure was strange. But little did you know, his egg-dropping shananigans were only the beginning of his uncontrollable little pranks he would pull on you.
Once he let your bird fly out the window. When you came home you discovered him outside, talking to your bird, begging him to come back inside. Little did he know, all it took was a whistle and a few treats and you had him sitting on your shoulder, ready to go back inside. One night you returned home to find him staring at the ceiling in the dining room, a kitchen towel in his hand. When you asked him what he was trying to achieve there, he told you there was a mosquito sitting above him.
“So, why don’t you kill it?” you asked. He looked shocked.
“Kill it?” he asked, “We should probably just shoo it outside.”
That’s when you knew. Choi Chanhee wouldn’t hurt a fly. Literally. All those times you had worried about leaving him home alone with your bird vanished in an instant as you laughed.
“You’re right. Killing is one of the worst sins. But sometimes, especially when it comes to mosquitoes, you don’t need to worry about any consequences. If anything, I’ll be grateful,” you assured him.
Another instance made you think maybe you had been too quick to judge him as harmless. When you walked into your bathroom in the morning, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you almost jumped out of your skin. A red substance stuck to your mirror in what seemed to be random shapes. On impulse, you called his name. On second look, you realized what he had done. The red was merely ketchup, and the random shapes weren’t so random, but they spelled “meeting at 2 pm”. When Chanhee appeared in the doorframe, he already wore his sorry expression.
“What did you think you were doing here?” you said. “You know where the post-it notes are!”
“I- He- The demon in me wanted to scare you…I’m so sorry,” he said. It was difficult to be mad at him when he was so sweet. You had, after all, told him to remind you of your meeting you had that day. He was so easy to forgive, too. Whenever he went to buy groceries, he returned with a bouquet of flowers, and after he had figured out your favorite candy, he made sure you never ran out of your supply. You liked being alone, but suddenly it felt nice to have someone waiting for you at home. A warm sensation filled your heart whenever he asked you about your day during dinner.
Even if after dinner you had to argue with him as if he was your son, because the demon in him had decided to take on the form of a teenage boy who was too lazy to take out the trash. You were still seated at the table, rolling your eyes at the demon’s horrible attempt at being evil.
“Don’t make me ask you one more time,” you threatened him, although you didn’t know what you would have done had he continued to argue against you. Only when he reached for the knife that he had already put down tidily on his plate, your eyes widened. His knuckles were white around the metal and you leaned back instinctively. Your gun was still in your belt – you had sat down for dinner straight after returning home – but you didn’t want to use it. Not on him.
“Chanhee,” you spoke in a calm tone. His face was unreadable. He wasn’t making eye contact. Instead, his gaze was glued onto the blade in his hand, staring blankly. His eyes blinked, almost robotically. Something changed in his demeanor then. There was a tremble in the hand that was clutching the knife. It grew more uneasy by each passing moment. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you kept your eyes trained on him, trusting your reflexes.
“Fine,” he suddenly said in a grumpy tone. Then he dropped the knife. The metallic sound rang in your ears for seconds afterward. You let out the breath you didn’t know you had been holding on to, as you watched him get up and retrieve the full trash bag from under the sink. You had been sleeping with your bedroom door unlocked for weeks. Even though it pained you, that night you locked your door again.
~
At 3:28 am you awoke to the sound of breaking glass. You allowed yourself to yawn and rub the sleep out of your eyes for just a moment, then you were on your feet. Gun in hand, you opened your door. Across the hall, the door to Chanhee’s room stood ajar. Light came from downstairs.
“Chanhee?” you called quietly. No answer. But your ears picked up shuffling and the sound of shards of glass being moved around. You approached slowly, trying not to give yourself away. Then you heard the quiet sobs. Your arm with the gun dropped to your side when you stepped into the kitchen.
He was sitting on the floor like he was one of the shattered pieces of glass himself. When he saw you, he flinched and tried to dry away his tears. But it was no use. They kept coming, and you had already seen them either way.
“I dropped it on purpose,” he said, referring to the broken glass. Another sob went through his body, making your chest ache at the sight of him. “I’m sorry.”
“I have nine more of those. It’s alright,” you assured him. Gently, you sat down by his side. You put your arms around his hunched frame. He stiffened at first but calmed his muscles after a moment and let you hold him.
“Shh, it’s okay,” you said. Whatever it was that was hurting him so much, you’d be here to fight it off for him.
“I can’t stop the evil in me,” he cried. His weeps seeped through your skin and tugged at your organs. It felt like a thousand tiny, sharp needles in your heart.
“It’s a part of you. It’ll never fully go away. But look at you, you’re doing such a good job holding it inside of you,” you whispered. He shuddered.
“I tried to kill you,” he stated. “I don’t deserve you. You’re so kind. You do all this for me, and I tried to kill you.”
“But you didn’t,” you said. “And that’s what counts. We all have urges inside of us…but it’s what we end up doing that truly counts and makes us who we are.”
“But it’s so hard,” he cried. His face was in the crook of your neck as he sniffled. The small teardrops that touched your skin felt like ice. “And all I do is bother you. I’m an inconvenience. Why don’t you just lock me up with the other demons? Why give me another chance every time I mess up?”
You couldn’t believe he would hate himself so much. Chanhee had more compassion than a lot of the humans you knew had. Some days he sat and pet your bird for hours just because it made him happy, he always had money on him to give to the homeless people in front of the grocery store and he almost cried thinking he forgot to pay for an item at the store (which you had obviously paid for).
“How could you even compare yourself to other demons?” you said. “If you want, I will take you in to work with me sometime. Then you’ll see the atrocities others commit. Even among humans, you’d still be sorted into the best of the best. I believe in you and that you will do good.”
He only sobbed harder at what you had said, and you felt the need to pull him in just a little tighter. You softly rocked your bodies in an attempt to calm him down.
“I would fall apart without you.” Between the hiccups and tears his words sounded like a broken confession, but that’s why they hit so hard.
“You’re not alone in this. I’m here for you,” you whispered, lips right by his ear. Your hands were in his hair, stroking his head as if you could pour all your emotions into this one gesture. What else could you do to show him you would never abandon him the way his demon people had? And it seemed to do the trick. His fists that had been clutching your shirt loosened up and his sorrowful crying turned into mellow breathing on your skin.
“Aren’t you sleepy?” you asked. “Let’s get you back to sleep. Tomorrow things will be better.”
“I haven’t been able to sleep well for three days,” he said. “But I need to clean this up first.”
He let go of you and started to pick up shards of glass. There was still a haggard expression on him, and his cheeks were painted red and tear stained. And yet he was determined.
“Let me do this,” you said, touching his arm. “You can’t even keep your eyes open. Go to bed, Chanhee.”
This time, he didn’t argue. But his good behavior didn’t stop the apologetic, almost battered look at you. He knew you would be by his side no matter what – but what he needed most was his own forgiveness. And you could tell by the way he spoke about himself that it would take a while until he was ready to accept himself as he was.
You heard his heavy steps on the stairs as he walked to his room. Quickly, you gathered the biggest shards of glass and then used a hand brush to collect the tiny pieces. This wasn’t what you had signed up for when you had taken him in. You thought you’d have to argue with him daily and that you’d miss having your personal space and privacy. You knew it would be new, living with another person after living alone for so long. But nothing could have prepared you for the way Chanhee had swept you off your feet with his adorable charms. You didn’t need to fake excitement when you came home to him, nor did you ever have to force yourself to tell him about your day or have any conversation with him, for that matter. He was truly enchanting with the way he made you care so much. Especially when you had assumed all demons were your sworn enemies.
When you finally dragged your tired body upstairs, you softly pushed open the door to his room, only to see him lying wide awake.
“Can’t sleep?” you asked. “Even though you’re so exhausted?”
“No,” he spoke. Even his voice made no attempt at hiding the sleepiness. His look was pleading. “Can you please stay with me…just for a little while?”
There was no way you could say no to his lovely gaze and messy hair and outstretched arms. So, you crawled in next to him under the covers. Your faces were inches apart. The last time you had been looking into a demon’s eyes this close-up he had been lying face-up and dead on the side of a road. Those eyes had been lifeless, and yet you felt like they had still held so much ferociousness, even in death. Now you only saw concern and genuine care in the black orbs across from you. You admired his softly sculpted face. It was one that seemed like it would much rather belong to an angel.
“You’ve been working so much,” he whispered. “You must be much more tired than me.”
“I’m used to it,” you said, “I enjoy my work because I’m doing it to help others.”
“You’re a good person,” he stated. There was something in his voice you couldn’t make out. Regret? Admiration?Maybe it was both.
“So are you, Chanhee,” you said. Without second thought, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his cheek. He didn’t flinch nor pull away. Instead, his pretty lips curled into a smile as he closed his eyes, ready to finally drift off to dreamland.
~
From that night on he seemed to improve a little, day by day. No more breaking things or having to argue about simple house chores. It occurred to you almost as if he had turned into something more human – so much that you dared to take him to work with you. People there had found the idea of your new demon friend strange, and you were sure some would take more than a little convincing to let down their guard around him. You couldn’t blame them for the prejudices – you had once been the same, after all. But Chanhee was okay with it, even when you had explained to him that some people might hate him, just because of his black eyes and what they meant to people. He had lived years of receiving that sort of treatment. Nonetheless, it pained you to think about how used he was to it. It took bravery and thick skin to walk into a police station the way he did that day. He was fascinated, looking behind the scenes. Perhaps you found it amusing how alarmed everyone was when they first laid eyes on him at the station. His ability to turn around their views of his species within twenty seconds or less was nothing but astonishing. He very willingly took it upon himself to walk down to the nearest coffee shop and order ten cups, also earning him the sympathy from the last few sceptics. When you were deep in conversation with another detective, discussing the possible whereabouts of a highly wanted demon, Chanhee suddenly interrupted you.
“I know an underground club where they like to go after…committing crimes,” he said. “Every demon in this city knows about it.”
At that moment you realized his full potential and what good he could really do. That was, if he was ready to sacrifice his people. But he just had – without even blinking. He could be an immense help to you.
“Young man I can see you have a bright future, should you ever decide to join the police force,” said your boss from across the room. Seemed like she had the same idea as you. Chanhee only smiled shyly but couldn’t hide the glint of pride in his eyes.
~
The following days you instantly made arrangements to get Chanhee an interview with the head of the station. He had been scared, at first.
“What if the other people there hate me?” he suspected.
“They might make assumptions about you in their heads, you know, because you’re a demon. They only know demons to be evil. But the moment they realize how good of a person you are, I promise they’ll change their mind,” you said. “You’ll be precious to us, and if you want to do good, the police is where you can be the most helpful. You’ll change lives, maybe even save people.”
“Yes, I want to help,” he said. “I’m done with my kind.”
“I’ll talk to my boss tomorrow,” you assured him. “If you’re too anxious to come in to the station, maybe she’ll allow you to work from home, from my office here. This is just a try, okay? If you really enjoy this work, you’ll have to learn and earn your badge.”
The way he looked at you filled you with so much pride. He seemed to have found some hope. Like he could finally spend his time in a productive and truly good manner. You couldn’t wait to see how he would do.
~
A tiring day and many discussions with higher-ups at workplace later, you returned at your home, late at always. Your fingers tingled with excitement and you wanted to yell for Chanhee the moment you walked through your door. You had managed to score an internship for him at your station. He was allowed to start as early as the following week. As you walked up the stairs, following the shuffling noise you heard, you imagined his face when you told him the news. You knew he’d be ecstatic. His smile would make you so happy, and you almost grinned at the mere thought of it. The noises were coming out of your office.
“Hi, Chanhee. Guess what my boss-,” you started. Then you fell speechless. Paper was scattered all over the floor. Drawers stood wide open. The orderly sorted piles of case files you had been working on were dispersed into every corner of the small room. Photos and pieces of paper were falling out of the folders. And in midst of it all stood Chanhee.
“Y/N- I’m so-,” he said, helpless.
“Don’t,” you said. Every ounce of excitement was gone from your voice, replaced by an ice cold tone you didn’t know you had in you. He flinched, but you couldn’t keep in what you had to say. “You’re impossible. I can’t fucking believe this! These are real cases, Chanhee! I’m trying to save real people here! This isn’t some broken mirror or a spilled cup of water. I can look past a shattered glass, but this is too much…I honestly thought you were getting better…”
Somewhere you knew you were being too harsh. But your job was your entire reason for existing. This was your life mission, laid out in front of you as if a hurricane had rampaged through the room. It would take days for you to rearrange the files. You weren’t even sure if you’d be able to find the correct places for each piece of paper.
“I’m sorry,” he said, voice cracking because he was about to cry.
“I don’t want to see you right now. Please get out. I need to clean this up and you can’t help me with this,” you said, trying hard not to scream out of frustration. Your eyes were already scanning the floor. You had no idea where to even start. With low-hanging shoulders and teary eyes that were threatening to spill over, Chanhee slipped past you. He granted you one more look before he scurried out of the office like a frightened animal.
Even though your stomach was grumbling from starvation and you could barely stay awake – as always – you needed to get some of the cleaning done. Now. Or you would go insane. Plus, you needed time away from Chanhee. While you collected the paper from every inch of the wooden floor, guilt slowly started to nag at you. You had never raised your voice at him to this extent. And he was sensitive. It wasn’t his fault, that’s what you always told him when he blamed himself for messing things up. He knew that. You cursed at yourself. How could you be so impulsive? All too well you knew how he felt about his demon half. You were supposed to be there for him, to tell him he was doing a good job and to make sure he didn’t beat himself up. Now you had achieved the complete opposite. A dull ache in your chest accompanied your hungry stomach.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang. In a haze, you stepped down the stairs and to the door. You needed to apologize to Chanhee. When you opened the door, a delivery girl from your favorite restaurant stood there, handing you an order. You were puzzled.
“Already payed for,” she checked with a beaming smile, “Enjoy your meal!”
“Thank you,” you said, voice numb. Before you knew it, she had turned on her heel and was on the way back to the car.
“Chanhee! Your food is here,” you shouted, assuming he was the one who had made the order. You got no answer. When you set the bag down on the kitchen table, you saw a note, addressed to you.
Y/N,
Words can’t express how sorry I am about what I’ve done. All my life I only wanted someone to love me. In you, I thought I might have found what I had been searching for all this time. But I messed up. I always do. I drove you away from what we had. I’ve wondered why I always end up disappointing people. Now I know it’s because it’s the only thing I’m truly good at. You deserve someone you can trust blindly, someone who will walk through fire for you, someone who will take a bullet for you. I can’t give you that. I can’t even trust myself. Thank you for giving me a home and for being the most generous person I have ever met. You will always be in my sweet evil heart. Don’t worry about me too much. I will find my way and you will find yours. Who knows, our paths may cross again. I ordered your favorite food. I know you’re always starving when you get home from work. Enjoy it and don’t let it go cold. Make sure you get enough sleep tonight, and don’t forget to take your water bottle with you tomorrow, you left it here this morning.
I’ll hold you in my happiest thoughts forever,
Chanhee
You only snapped out of your motionless state when one single tear dropped down your cheek and onto the note. A heavy blanket of sorrow and regret sunk into your whole body. The emotions seeped through your skin and before you knew it, you were a sobbing mess on the kitchen floor. You wanted to take him in your arms and tell him you forgave him. Hell, you had forgiven him minutes after you had yelled at him. You should have gone to him then. Had you only apologized quickly enough, perhaps he’d still be here. Then he’d be eating dinner with you, and although you’d be frustrated, you both wouldn’t be alone.
Your tears fell into your food while you ate it, unable to control your sadness and frustration you had against yourself. They mixed with the shower water as you stood in silence under the hot stream, overthinking everything. Your pillow was wet from the crying as you struggled to fall asleep. Like a broken-hearted zombie you trudged across the hall and into his room. Chanhee’s covers still smelled like him and you hugged them tightly, as if you could hold a piece of him and bring him back that way. But there was nothing you could have done. He had left, and it was alone your fault.
~
The next day passed like a vivid fever dream. While you were sat in your meeting, you couldn’t possibly focus on the case your team was discussing. Instead, you pondered whether your makeup was able to conceal your puffy face and the dark circles under your eyes. If it was obvious, at least people didn’t seem to point it out. Maybe they were so used to seeing you tired that it would take a lot more than some tiredness and lack of concentration to arise concern. It was the first time in years you really wanted to go home after work. In fact, you couldn’t stand the laughter and good mood at the police station for one more second. All you wanted to do was scream and cry, and seeing people joke around without any idea about your feelings only intensified your desire. Of course, you could have confided in somebody. But you were afraid they would tell you Serves you right or I told you. You don’t think you’d be able to handle those blatant assumptions and the mocking.
Your plan for the night was set: You’d sit in the bathtub for half an hour, then you’d wrap yourself into a human burrito in a blanket and fill your brain with some brutal movie that would make your life seem like it was mere child’s play. But as most things in your life lately, nothing went as planned. Because after only five minutes in the hot tub, your phone rang on the other side of the room. The first time you ignored it. You really tried. But then it rang again, and you looked up to see the caller ID. It was your boss.
You groaned and quickly stood up, not giving up on the prospects of a peaceful night just yet. But then you heard her message – a break-in at a bank, one dead bank employee, five hostages, a possible shoot out. They were calling for back up. And when there was a chance to throw bad guys behind bars, the most inviting bath or an exciting movie suddenly turned dull.
Not fifteen minutes later you had jumped out the bath, gotten dressed in your uniform, taken your gun and ammunition, and were pulling up at the scene your boss had ordered you to. The bank was in the city center, close to the main square. The police team was stationed in a side street. Some of the team had already been sent to the front of the bank, where the police was attempting to make contact with the robbers.
“They’re holding four hostages in the back of the bank. One of them is at the front, right by the glass doors for us to see. The robbers have guns to their heads. If we come closer, they’ll shoot them,” your colleague informed you.
“Demons?” you asked. Against your will, Chanhee appeared in your mind. You wondered how he was doing. Was he hiding out in somebody else’s garden right now? Had he found a bed to sleep in? Then you quickly shook your head. This was not the time for heavy emotions of any kind.
“Yes. Five of them,” your colleague added. You huffed.
“What do they want us to do? Are they demanding anything?” you asked.
“They want us to let them leave with the money,” she said. You grinned bitterly and nodded.
“What about the back entrance?” you asked. You knew the layout of this bank and had been there multiple times in the past.
“That’s our route. Besides the one at the front, the other demons are inside the bank. The entrance isn’t guarded. A team of four will go to the back and try to sneak up on them. When we have a clear line of fire on all the robbers, we’ll take them out at the same time,” she explained.
“Alright,” you nodded, fixing your bulletproof vest around your upper body. You were ready for this. To others, missions like these would have been nerve-wrecking, and you would have been lying if you said you were completely calm. But the adrenaline was already rushing through your body, and fear was something you hadn’t felt since your very first operation.
“All ready?” your colleague asked the other two members of the team who would go into the bank. You received nods and professional expressions. You had all trained together and were used to functioning like one unit. Sticking close together, you rounded the bank, using a side street so the demons wouldn’t see you approaching. In your ear, the voice of your boss was giving orders and checking in on you. The street was dark and devoid of any life except for your team. Multiple of the surrounding streets had been evacuated and shut off to the public. The scene had something straight out of a heist movie. Except this time, the robbers weren’t going to pull of the perfect theft and get away. You would make sure of it.
“We’re almost there,” you said. “Twenty meters to the entrance. Awaiting permission to go inside.”
“You have permission,” your boss spoke over your earpiece. One last look at your teammates, and you were on the move. Sneaking inside soundlessly was easy. The backrooms were all empty. As you passed abandoned offices, you saw knocked over office equipment and paper scattered on the floors. Lamps had been left on and you heard the faint buzzing of a running computer that was most certainly unoccupied. Moving swiftly, you walked along the corridors, guns pointed ahead at all times. Your teamwork was untouchable. One of you made sure the path was clear, then the rest followed.
“You are one room away from the entry hall,” your boss said.
“Understood,” you answered and slowed down your steps. A cat wouldn’t have been able to walk more silently than you did. Now your ears picked up voices. Somebody was crying. There was shuffling of feet on marble.
“Shut up!” a male voice yelled. The crying faded out into muteness. In the dark, you could make out figures. A few countertops and a good distance separated you and your team from the demons and the hostages. You nodded to your colleagues and they understood. The four of you parted ways, moving into the room and taking shelter behind the bank counters. Once again, you checked the situation. Close to you, four hostages sat on the floor. A woman was still crying, and you could tell she was struggling to keep herself quiet. Around them, four demons stood, dressed in black. Their ski masks kept their faces hidden, but their body languages told you enough. They were not to be messed with. By the far entrance, the fifth demon was positioned with the remaining hostage, and you could spot the police cars outside in the town square. From behind your hiding spots, each of your teammates had a clear line of fire on the demons. The fifth one would be taken out from police outside the bank. You were just about to send a signal to your boss to let her know you were in position. Suddenly, the scraping of feet on the floor alarmed you.
“What was that?” one of the demons barked. The noise had come from your colleague beside you, who was now flinching. You had no time to think. No time to complain about her mistake. If you didn’t act now, they were going to close in on you.
You jumped up, pointing your gun at the closest demon. Right away, the remaining demons had their guns aimed at the hostages’ heads. Your colleagues had done as you, guns held towards the demons. Now you got a proper look at them. They were towering over the hostages, who were crouched on the floor in intimidation. The one in front of you only chuckled. Humans didn’t laugh like this. It was pure malice and recklessness displayed in front of you.
“I thought we told you to stay away,” he began. The only thing you could truly note about him was his mouth. The rest was covered by his mask and where the white of eyes should have been, two orbs of darkness sat, eying you like prey.
“Let the hostages go and we won’t shoot you,” you ordered, with a surprisingly calm voice.
“And why would we do that when we can just kill them?” he asked. His gaze momentarily focused on his fellow demons, as if he was a stand-up comedian and he had just delivered the funniest punch line.
“You will die if you harm even one of the hostages,” you stated.
“Oh, is that so? Humans never learn, do they?” he said. This monster was completely insane. And suicidal too, it seemed. “Go on, shoot.”
First, you thought he was urging your team to shoot. Then you realized, he was looking at the demon closest to you. The very demon you had your gun pointed at. He was asking the other demon to shoot at the hostages. You were preparing to pull the trigger.
But then your mind started racing. You stared at him intensely as your heartbeat quickened uncontrollably in your chest. The dark eyes. The soft lips. His skinny frame and gentle hands. You knew exactly who this demon was. You’d be able to pick him out of any crowd. What the hell was he doing here?
“Shoot!” the bigger demon shouted again, but Chanhee didn’t budge.
“I told you he was goddamn useless,” one of the others said. “Get rid of him.”
“You don’t deserve any of this money,” the bigger demon snarled, and his hand went to his belt. You knew there were human lives on the line. What you were about to do could be considered not only stupid, but wildly imprudent. Emotions were supposed to be left out of police operations. But how could you not have been blind with shock? You were going to let your heart control your body over your mind, and if it was deadly so be it. The bigger demon was now raising his arm at Chanhee.
Before you knew it, you had jumped out from behind the counter. You mirrored the demon’s actions and you pointed at him, pulling the trigger. At the same time, his gun went off. Just in time, you had pushed your body between the two demons.
“Y/N!” Chanhee shouted.
The bullet hit your shoulder and you fell backwards. Burning heat spread through your insides as you stumbled and reached for anything, anyone to hold on to. You could only think of Chanhee, and how your bullet had pierced through the big demon’s skull perfectly. Then, your colleagues opened the gunfire. The shots sounded almost muffled through the intense amount of adrenaline in your blood and the initial effect of being hit. Your body fell to the ground with a heavy thud, and a wave of agony spread through you. You grimaced at the excruciating pain, hands grasping at your shoulder. All you could see was white, before you sank onto your back and the world went dark.
~approximately 18 months later~
“Y/N,” Chanhee said, for the sixth time within the last ten minutes. You pressed your phone harder against your ear, holding it up with your shoulder. Your hands were too busy writing a police report on your laptop.
“Chanhee, I promise I’m writing the last few sentences already,” you assured him. He liked it when you came home early, leaving enough time to relax on the couch with him, instead of falling into bed like a corpse. Today, he was especially insistent, urging you to stay on the phone with him until you had finally packed up your things and left the police department. You guessed he was just trying to make sure you couldn’t stop somewhere along the way and start working on something new. And maybe that fear wasn’t so far off the truth.
“I’m done,” you said. “Status report: I’m switching off the laptop. Now I’m taking my bag. I’m getting up. I’m locking my office behind me. I’ll be home in twenty minutes or less.”
His laughter on the other side of the line made you smile. You couldn’t wait to see his face and get to hug him.
“Alright. I can’t wait,” he said. “I’ll see you.”
The walk home was calm. A soft breeze went through your hair and in the distance, you heard sirens of an ambulance. Promptly you were catapulted back to your memories and into the vehicle after you had been shot. Going in and out of consciousness, you kept repeating one name: Chanhee. When you woke up in the hospital bed, you half-expected him to be sitting there, waiting for you to wake up. But of course that was not the case. He had committed a crime – or at least tried to commit one. The prosecution was in his favor. They acknowledged his compliance with the police and his hesitation to hurt the hostage. Plus, he sold out the other demons and showed no resistance at any point. His regret and sorrow was apparent, nonetheless his mistake caused him 11 months in prison – by far less than the other robbers got.
People had called you insane for standing by him. Others thought you brave and newspapers named him the first good demon in the world. Every week you visited him in prison, often more than once. You made the most of your short time to talk, and with your kindest words you let him know that you were still here for him. Every visit you learned a bit more about how he had ended up in that bank.
After he had walked out on you, he had nowhere to go. So, after strolling the street mazes for days he found himself in the very demon night club he had once warned you about. Most unsavory figures twisted his mind into thinking doing good was no use. They made him believe he would never be able to escape the demon in him, and he might as well embrace the malice. They more or less pulled him along to the robbery, while he overthought the whole thing. It hurt you, seeing him cry as he recounted how scared he was when he saw the hostages. Some of them ended up injured, but all survived. You knew he would have never forgiven himself, had one of them died.
The day you picked him up from prison was a day you’d never forget. Holding each other in your arms felt so right, and you had missed it tremendously. His months at the prison hadn’t been easy, but you made sure he felt loved and cared for when he finally returned. He almost refused to believe that you would open your doors to him again. It was no question to you. You’d always be here for him. Even when he insisted you keep your office at home locked at all times. You trusted him almost a hundred percent by now. His demon only came out rarely, especially in times of stress or intense negative emotions. But you only treated him with kindness, and he gave back just as much of it.
“Chanhee I’m home!” you shouted as you entered your home.
“I’m up here,” he spoke. You ran up the stairs, excited to see him. Your eyes fell onto the open door of your office. For a moment, your heartbeat quickened as you approached it. You must have forgotten to lock the door that morning. Slowly, you pushed it open.
“Hello,” he grinned. You only chuckled as you watched him, sitting by your desk, a book in his hands. “I hope you don’t mind me being in here. This chair is so comfortable.”
“It’s all good,” you said. “Do you know what day it is today?”
“Umm…Friday?” he asked.
“It’s been exactly two years since you first started living here,” you said. “I think we should get some take out and celebrate, what do you say?”
“I can’t believe it’s been two years,” he said. “I’d love that. And you know what? I think I’m ready to start the internship at the police station.”
You smiled proudly. He had put his book down and was getting up.
“You’re going to do good things,” you said, wrapping your arms around him. He finally had found his place. His home. And you were never going to give up on him.
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littlestsnicket · 2 years ago
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7, 9, 11, 19, 31, 44, 69, 75, for the fic ask game?
i was almost done with this, but then i had to go watch everything, everywhere, all at once (which was very good, and very worth seeing in theaters if you have that option), and then i had to go to bed, and now it is somehow the next afternoon.
7. tell us about the plot of the first fanfic you ever wrote
so this is an interesting one, because plot is really hard for me. a lot of why i started writing fic was to have permission to write without having plot, so i almost exclusively wrote drabbles for doctor who and mcu, and they were all missing scene/character study type things. probably the first thing i “plotted” (it was still all vibes and character study) and then never actually wrote, was about amy and rory getting stuck in the third doctor era, and getting to meet the master and the unit fam. 
9. in an ideal world where you're super successful and published, would you want to see a tv or movie adaptation of your work?
absolutely. i am obsessed with the mechanics of adaptation. i would definitely be a bit apprehensive about someone who was *just* doing it for the paycheck adapting my work. but i'd be way too curious to see what someone else would do with it, and how it would change and evolve. i love when adaptations are really different but are still true to something significant about the original work, so it’s hard to imagine being disappointed by anything besides carelessness (but that does seem to be a real concern). 
11. what's something neat you've learned while doing research for something you were writing? also, how much do you worry about doing research in general?
i recently did a whole bunch of research on how to make gut strings, and know (strictly in theory) how to re-fret a lute. 
for the twin peaks fic i have been working on for literal years, i learned: pittsburgh used to have a vibrant chinatown but it was eventually replaced by the worst highway (is 380/bigalow blvd really even a highway? anyway, notably stupid fucking road in a city full of bad street design) (to be fair, racism and the overall population downturn had mostly destroyed the neighborhood before it became a highway) and paper bags with handles and indiglo timex watches didn’t exist in 1985.
i don't really worry, per say, about research and accuracy, but it's my favorite form of procrastination from actually writing. i also find that having more information to percolate through my brain does inspire me to write and having little, technically unimportant, details in my work thrills me. 
19. what are some books or authors that influenced your style the most?
probably neil gaiman? there's both a clarity and a sense of whimsy in how he writes. and it sometimes has a toned down douglas adams vibe. i try to be vividly descriptive but only when necessary. i also really internalized e b white's style guide when i read it. i always do a pass of editing that is just... getting rid of words.
31. tell us about on of your characters who's an absolute joy to write
the thing that brings me the most joy is when i feel like the cadence of a characters' dialogue is exactly right, so i have the most fun writing characters that have really distinctive speech patterns. lemony snicket, dale cooper, the eleventh doctor, and jaskier are all great for that.
but also, recently, i just really really loved getting in ciri's head. there's so much going on in there. she's got layers, and she's growing into herself, but not in a stereotypical coming of age sort of way, which i often find kind of boring.
44. name three of your favorite fanfic writers
i tried very very hard not to overthink this and just wrote down the three that came to me first. copperbadge, whoslaurapalmer, limerental. there are so many fantastic story tellers in fandom, but they stand out to me in terms of prose quality. 
69. how do you write emotional scenes? do you ever feel what the character is feeling?
hmmm. i don't know if i do anything deliberately to write emotional scenes. usually, since it's fic, i'm trying to capture something i felt while watching or reading the source material, so i might go back to that.
i definitely get in the characters heads a bit when i'm writing, so i guess i feel whatever they're supposed to be feeling, but at a remove or dialed significantly down in intensity.
75. do you know how the story ends before you start writing?
not usually. i work things out as i write, but i don't write in order, and almost always write the end before i finish the middle. it helps for me to know where you’re going. sort of like writing a research paper in school--there’s nothing worse than getting to the end and realizing you don’t have a real conclusion. 
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icefire149 · 3 years ago
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You are good at angst so 28 bestie <3
I hope this was angsty enough for you Rubi! I spent yesterday and today's warm up on this one. I swear all the prompts I've done, they've all gone in directions I wasn't expecting. This definitely wasn't the scene I meant to write, but I quite like it. Please enjoy <3
#28 – When I am dead – Dean/Castiel
“I know I’ve screwed up more than any of us could have predicted, which is….impressive in it’s own way, but….I’m glad that you have Jack.”
With the tips of his fingers, Dean lightly twisted and turned the beer bottle on the bunker’s kitchen table. As he spoke, he was still hunched over and watching the last third of his drink splash and move against the glass. The silence stretched longer than he’d hoped. He glanced up to find Cas staring at him confused.
“Oh, come on,” he breathed. “We all know I haven’t done a bang up job.”
Cas’ eyebrows pinched together. “Jack idolizes you. You know that, right?”
A painful laugh tore from his throat. “You really need to introduce him to….honestly anyone would be a better role model.”
“It’s not your call. Dean, he loves you.”
“He’s a toddler. He doesn’t…..” Dean pushed the bottle aside and ran his hands roughly through his hair. Exhaling, he leaned back in his chair. “Cas, he didn’t even get to be a baby because I shot him not even an hour after he was born.”
Cas sighed exasperatedly, “Maybe you’re right.” He held Dean’s gaze for several heartbeats before letting his head slowly tilt. “What’s important is that Jack has all of us. He’ll always need you.”
“Even without the Michael situation….” Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s not the same. He’ll have you. You’ll have each other long after the rest of us are dust in the wind.”
“Dean.”
“What! It’s true.” He picked up his beer again. His eyes locked on the lip of the bottle. “I’m glad you’ll have each other. I don’t want you to spend the rest of existence alone.”
Cas sighed, but this time his stare softened. “Dean, I….” His voice was laced with pain.
“I know,” Dean cut in. “It’s heavy and I’m not aiming for any kind of big emotional moments here, but...with Michael trapped-” He tapped the side of his head with his left index finger. “I figure I don’t have a lot of time.”
“You have decades,” Cas said firmly. “We’re going to solve this problem just as we’ve always done and you’re going to be here to see Jack’s 5thbirthday.” He stood up and laid both hands on the kitchen table. “And then his 10th, 16th, 21st, 25th, 30th, 40th, and 50th!”
Coughing, Dean put his beer down and raised his hands, hoping that Cas would calm down. “Do you realize how old I’d be?”
“Yes,” Cas said with a deadly serious aura. “I’ve done the math, several times.”
“You might wanna run it again,” Dean joked. He wasn’t able to stop his tongue. “If you ask Claire she’d tell you that I’m already geriatric for a hunter.”
The corner of Cas’ lip twitched. “I don’t doubt her assessment. If you remove hunting from the equation, then there’s no reason why you couldn’t see any of those milestone birthdays for Jack. Claire’s milestone birthdays as well.”
“You’re asking an awful lot,” Dean shook his head. He could still vividly remember the days where he honest to God thought that living past 30 was a pipedream, and now, Cas was expecting him to see his 90s….
“It’s the bare minimum.” Cas sat back down in his seat. He still had the palms of his hands resting on the cool table.
“As long as you’re in the wheel chair next to me,” Dean grinned. The thought of living to a ripe old age was terrifying, but he could do it if Cas was there with him. His nervous heartbeat started to settle the moment he imagined the angel there at his side. His hair would be more than peppered with gray patches. He’d probably be wearing reading glasses so much they’d be glued to his nose. And he’d have a closet of colorful, chunky knit sweaters to replace his long worn out trench coat.
Cas’ warm smile quickly wobbled and wavered before some other emotion won in his eyes. Dean almost chased it, but then it too was replaced with something else: a more teasing glint. A hint of Cas’ teeth caught his eye now. “I’ll try my best, but I’d imagined I would be kicking your wheel chair to every event.”
“Oh right,” Dean mumbled, remembering the whole point of this conversation. “Angels are eternal.” He laughed. “People will eventually think you’re my grandson.”
“I was thinking…..more like nurse, or doctor.”
Dean swallowed sharply. He nodded, trying to ignore the way his ears burned.
The look dimmed in Cas’ eyes, and his shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I don’t want you to give up. I can’t imagine this world without you in it.”
“I get it,” Dean said, losing himself to his memories. There was something about that kind of pain that made any complication seem solvable. Like it wasn’t until he’d been cleaved open by death’s scythe that his truth was free.
Dean still remembered his father pulling Sammy free from his arms as their house burned down, and how even still his mouth couldn’t stop whispering to empty air the same promises: I love you. Dad will fix this. We’re safe.
What felt like a life time later, he remembered whispering almost the same words into his brother’s hair as he bled out in his arms. I love you. I’ll fix this. I’ll bring you home.
The worst was when his hands shook uncontrollably in the dirt and ash outside of Kelly’s cabin in North Cove. Dean waited from the moment the light extinguished from Cas’ eyes all the way until the final coals cooled for a miracle. He waited for Cas to rise. He waited for his world to start spinning again.
It wasn’t until he was down on his knees with his wrist buried in the pyre’s remains that he was torn in half. The sun was never gonna shine again. And now there was no warmth to hold, hair to comb, and skin to touch. Dean cried until he was too exhausted to keep spilling out the same words over, and over again: I love you. Come back to me. I’m so sorry. Please, don’t leave me.
His throat hurt like he was suffocating on the pyre’s smoke. Dean’s gaze slid back to Cas, and he was able to breathe deep again. Cas’ studied him like he was desperately trying to uncover what horrors he was reliving again, so Dean downed the last of his drink, but he couldn’t bear to break the eye contact. Like a part of him was still afraid that Cas would turn to ash dusting the meadow’s flowers once again.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Dean lied. How do you tell someone that you’re incapable of loving them until they’re dead? “I just….” Dean shook his head. “Can you promise me something?”
“Anything, of course.”
“When I die-”
“Dean.” Cas leaned back in his chair.
“Dude, just listen. When I die, I need you to promise me that you’ll come visit me. Break me out of whatever memory loop I’m in.”
Bewildered, Cas’ eyebrows furrowed. “Okay.”
“There’s something I’ll only be able to say then.”
Cas leaned forward in his chair. His stare pierced into Dean, unwavering, like he was certain that he could learn all he needed from his eyes alone. “Dean, you can tell me now. You can always tell me, anything at all.”
“I know, but just promise me this. It’ll be worth the wait.”
Ask me more writing prompts (I’m using these as warm ups so send a number and a ship)
Prompts I've done so far
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