#if you are seeing this excerpt and thinking oh! what a nice fluffy story!
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WIP Wednesday
Tagged in a little while ago by the amazing @patolemus & @hellameyers 🤗
I'm currently working on editing chapter 5 of the poets are right, which I'll be posting in a couple of days - so here's a snippet from that!
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“Did you think I was hot when we first met?” Stiles asks.
The huff of laughter that pushes out from between Derek’s smiling mouth is entirely ball-busted, and the tips of his ears quickly colour a soft red in the low, warm light of the room. Stiles’ lips pull into an instant grin back at him.
“Yeah,” Derek says.
“Really?” Stiles presses, finding way too much joy in this. “You thought I was a hot little piece of omega ass, right off the bat?”
“Really,” Derek echoes easily, one arm folding behind his head while the other skims light fingers up and down Stiles’ side. “It wasn’t so much a fight or flight instinct as it was a fight or... fuck.”
Barking out a loud laugh, Stiles gleefully peers up at him, at the easy confession of immediate attraction falling from Derek’s lips. His heartrate picks up excitedly as he wriggles closer into the solid heat of Derek’s body.
“Too bad the fight won out that time,” Stiles laments.
Derek hums, lifting a hand to cup gently at the back of Stiles’ neck.
“Too bad,” he agrees, before lifting both eyebrows. “Did you think I was hot when we first met?”
“Obviously,” Stiles scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I thought you were hot before we met, dude. You know that already.”
And he does. As embarrassing it was at the time to admit out loud, to the object of his one-sided affection for so many anonymous years, he did tell Derek. That particular secret was shared not too long into this thing between them, spilling all about this crush he has had ever since he first discovered photographs of the ultimate alpha heart-throb Derek Hale in some teen magazine or other.
Derek took it like a champ. Actually, he took it like an incredibly smug bastard – but that was only to be expected. Learning that the person you like just as much as they like you, has actually liked you a hell of a lot longer than you have even known that person existed, well... Stiles can see how something like that might go straight to your head.
Tamping down on the urge to swat that self-satisfied smirk right off of Derek’s face, Stiles settles on leaning up to kiss it into something more dazed and breathless, instead. When he pulls back, he feels a thrill of satisfaction at the utterly glazed over look in Derek’s eyes.
“Yeah,” Stiles lets himself continue, head tipping to one side. “If only you hadn’t gone and ruined it the first time you opened your mouth by being a fucking asshole.”
Derek breathes out yet another ball-busted laugh. His fingers slide through the short hairs at the back of Stiles’ head, nails scratching lightly into Stiles’ scalp, as he takes the – entirely true, and entirely deserved – insult on the chin. He quickly lists forwards to kiss Stiles yet again, softly and soundly.
“I like to think I’ve made up for it since then,” he says quietly.
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Low pressure tags ❤️ @dear-massacre @eevylynn @evanesdust @hedwig221b @lucky-bishop
@raisesomehale @renmackree @thotpuppy @violetfairydust @quackquackcey
#sterek#my fic#if you are seeing this excerpt and thinking oh! what a nice fluffy story!#um... perhaps... think again.... 😅#i've only got draft number 4 aka final typos edit to get through before i can post this chapter#so most likely it'll be friday 😊
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the annoyance with blk y/n and the stories she’s in is hilarious. her characteristics might be the problem one day or her side characters the next. it legit feels like we may never get to a balanced solution on what to do with our own representation since the wrong ppl always talk about it and create it. we have mean and shallow ppl who take over the conversation, ppl who really self hate but try and cover it up with “i just don’t want her to be a stereotype” and then the ones who probably love and support tyler perry movies.
the bottom line is the ppl who do write those niggafying, toxic (it’s a buzzword but that’s what they are) or smutty fics (not talking abt the actual good ones with a blk reader though 🧎🏽♀️) can do wtv they want and owe you nothing. that’s why they get so frustrated. i don’t think all the times those should be crucified for what they write when other groups of ppl (or our own) write all kinds of other crazy shit.
and.. i know a lot of ppl who don’t want to say it but y’all keep bringing up the smut and niggafying as the main problem, but i think it’s some of the ppl writing it and their underlings. it’s just no one wants to say anything.
an excerpt from a draft of mine
“a lot of ppl on here be weirdos or mean asl. so when someone block you don’t be like “oh what i did” “they that mad cause of my (internet—fictional—digital on screen) presence”
like nobody got time to go to your acc and say “i don’t like you” who cares. oddly some miserable ppl do actually but still. the lack of awareness is ridiculous. that’s why ppl don’t f with y’all.”
i was talking abt all of tumblr and every other app but it applies here.
from what i see on here, some are just straight up weird, cliquey, and chiesty (if that’s how you spell it) and that’s why ppl be so mad abt those types of books 💀. we also have to acknowledge the amount of overwhelming & honestly damaging blk yn fics (not to be confused with ppls screwed ideas of stereotypical) there are. i understand why ppl write them for personal reasons but when it comes to our own reflections of ourselves as blk women it’s almost hurtful to read some of the things people put “her” through. i mean even her with a white man that use aave and has cornrows is hurtful.. 😔 (i’m trolling now 💀) naw but fr. i personally don’t like reading blk women just being written for smut or going through crazy situations or kinda like.. i don’t wanna say unfulfilling but like.. idk i can’t think of the word. (edit: ppl write blk yn to be in unfulfilling situations) but girl i can watch a tyler perry movie for all that.
again. ppl write these stories for there own personal reasons, relate to them and enjoy them for those reasons as well. that’s why depending! on what it is i don’t think blk writers should be bombarded with hate like that. also ion think smut should be banned like y’all go to far can we just slow down on it … there are some nice ones out there i promise 🧎🏽♀️
but in all seriousness there are many other reasons why i feel toxic and smutty fics are popular for blk yn but i don’t think anyone cares to hear that and the conversion will prolly go back to nigga eren somehow which is crazy cause y’all be arguing over a fictional white man.
oh! 😒 i almost forgot 😒 the ppl who are against “ghetto” y/n to try and advocate for more fluffy or like.. normal (healing) stories and from what i see the ppl who are the most up in arms about it in my personal opinion seem to dislike certain parts of blkness that i appreciate personally and so i just straight up disregard their opinions. y/n doesn’t have to “act” (😒) blk but i see ppl get mad about her protecting her hair….. with a bonnet….
sigh, anyway but yeah we need more soft and sweet fics or just like calming ones? but someone gon have to write it! i don’t like this app or my writing all too much so i gave up a while ago.
just like many other blk writers….
gaspp! we should also do like a fluff challenge or sumn where writers do like fluff … march? girl idk so maybe that will trend and all the ppl who spend time arguing and going back and forth with ppl who write stories they don’t like can like idk look for other writers who write soft, normal, fun stories and reblog them or make a list of them. or maybe like possibly write their own stories too????
everyone says the smut fics gets the most likes and they do. that’s why you keep seeing them. so maybe support or refreakingblog the fics that are comforting to you so others can be as well.
i actually made this page to repost softer fics because i was tired of blocking certain tags so i can avoid heavy smut and subtly abuse fics. also pls leave the ppl who niggafy anime characters alone they will not be stopped. i mean we still have ppl who have been calling chris evans jamal since 2020.. calling him that to this date. married and all.
sigh… 2 more days until blk history month ends. maybe next year we can find a balance between “dramatic” and smutty fics and soft and slice of life ones for blk y/n next year. remember this is tumblr too and the ppl writing aren’t even getting paid for this but it’s for the ppl yk.
ppl who are respectful and reblog tho.
muah
#anime x black!reader#aot x black reader#x black fem reader#black reader#x black reader fluff#x black reader#black fanfiction#x black plus size reader#x fem black reader#gojo x black reader#jjk x black reader#eren x black fem!reader#x black oc#connie x black reader#x black y/n#eren x black reader fluff#eren x black reader#i’m so dramatic#rant#rant post#complaining#ramblings#im just a girl#i’m also just being very sarcastic and condescending because i’m so tired of the blk yn bull crap. lemme just read.#i said what i said
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another excerpt from my dca fic idea because I actually like this one more than the one I first posted tbh aksn
I doubt I’ll ever actually make this thing a whole fic but I still enjoy writing from time to time so making these little snippets of a potentially larger story is nice
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Basic premise: Y/N came to the Pizzaplex with their friends and wandered off into the daycare while no one was there and (due to their smaller than average size) was briefly confused for a lost child by the Daycare Attendant and stuff happens
This is how Y/N meets Moon after having fun with Sun
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I let out a yawn, a gentle weight overtaking my body. With eyelids heavy, I slid the bubble wand back into its container, no longer energized enough to wave it around. I surveyed my surroundings, the daycare seeming hazier than I remembered, the music reverberating. How long have I been in here?
A faint jingling of bells approached. “Are you alright, friend? Was something wrong with the bubbles?”
I mustered the energy to look up at the attendant, his body language noticeably toned down, almost nervous. My eyelids lowered on their own as I shook my head.
“No, it was fun,” I said, my voice starting to dip in fatigue. “I’m just getting tired…”
“Ohhh!” The Sun exclaimed, slightly hushed. He leaned in closer to me. “It must be nap time then!”
“N-Nap?” I parroted, my tired brain faintly perking up at the idea. “I get to have.. nap?”
“Of course, silly! Naps are for everyone!” The animatronic chirped, doing a twirl. “Just wait right here! I’ll get you some blankets and pillows!” He then skipped off, reaching a far corner of the daycare. I watched as he grabbed a section of the wall and slid it aside, revealing a hidden closet. Ah, I see.
I waddled to the center of the playroom as the Sun made his way back, the items he promised in hand. “Thank you,” I mumbled, rubbing my eyes as he put together my sleeping arrangements. While he didn’t look up, the rays circling his head briefly twitched in unison.
“O-Oh! You’re welcome!” The animatronic replied, the stutter in his voice box giving the impression of surprise. After one last fluffing of the pillows, Sun stood up. “Friend! Your bed is ready! What do you think? What do you think?”
It was a simple set up: just a mat with a couple fluffy blankets laid over top—albeit laid out and aligned perfectly—and a few pillows. Well, maybe little more than a few. They were laid out and stacked so my head would meet a pillow no matter where I rolled. I was pretty sure not every visiting child would be given this many pillows, but maybe it was just because I was the only one here Sun could pay attention to. Entranced by the inviting nest for sleep, I shambled over to the arrangement and immediately climbed in. A bright, staticky chuckle emitted from the attendant as he watched me get comfortable.
“You must’ve been super, SUPER tired!” I hummed contentedly in response, already feeling my consciousness slipping. Sun crouched next to me, lightly tapping my shoulder. I looked up.
“Sorry, friend, but ooone last thing…” His head spun playfully as he spoke, only stopping once it was at the same angle as mine. “Lights have to be out during nap time, so I’ll have to go!”
Wait, why does he need to leave? I get the parallel to the sun leaving when it’s dark, but he’s obviously not the actual sun. Maybe it’s a gimmick they do.
“But don’t be scared!!” Sun continued as he stood up, stepping out of view. “Mr. Moon will be here to keep you safe!”
Th…There’s another one?
“Sweetest dreams, starshine!”
A heavy clunk of a lever being pulled abruptly echoed into the daycare. I jolted. The shrill but quickly waning sound of the power turning off followed, and the room quickly went dark. The lack of music filling the space made the playroom seem so much.. larger, emptier. Any glimmer of light that peeked in from another part of the plaza died out before it made it to the center. Glow-in-the-dark stars swirled across the ceiling and were now the only light I had. What sounded like pained groaning was coming from somewhere else in the daycare, accompanied with quiet whirring and the subtle grinding of metal. What.. was that??
I didn’t feel as tired, all of a sudden.
However, the noises quickly ceased after that. Once the quiet returned, the warmth of the blankets and comfort of the darkness began to get to me, and my slowly paralyzing body reminded me that was I still just as tired. I snuggled into the pillow pile Sun set up for me and fell right asleep.
After some time, I woke up abruptly, only to be met with darkness. I felt uncomfortable.
“…Restroom,” I mumbled to myself, rolling onto my back. Admittedly, I was a little hesitant to leave my blanket cocoon. My muscles seemed to lock up when I felt the cool outside air hit my skin.
C’mon, Y/N, you’re not actually nine—even if the robot thinks you are—just get up!
Bracing myself, I sat up, my blankets collecting onto my lap, and I shivered. The chilly air seemed worse now. Uselessly, I scanned the darkness. They must have a restroom for these kids, right? Wrapping one of the blankets around me, I stood up.
Just as I was about to blindly scope the place, the faint sound of jingling bells made me freeze, the hairs on my neck raising. Slowly, I turned around. My vision was bathed in a menacing red.
“Look what we have here~ Now what are you doing up so early, little one?~”
Once my eyes finally adjusted, I stumbled back, gripping my blanket. A large figure loomed over me, its silhouette similar to Sun’s. Upon closer inspection, its—his?—face was almost exactly like Sun’s, save for the non-moon side of his faceplate being completely blackened and the sun rays being replaced with a nightcap. His pants and hat were now dark blue and speckled with stars, glowing like the ones on the ceiling. This has yet to mention his red headlights for eyes. The robot’s arched, ganglier posture gave him a more feral appearance. This must be Moon.
“You should be sleeping…” the animatronic cooed, slinking closer. While Sun’s voice sounded like if electrical fires could talk, his counterpart’s was like if babbling brooks had threatening auras.. and could talk. It was low and gravelly with a mischievous lilt to every sentence. In another situation, it could’ve been soothing to listen to as you fell asleep, but maybe that’s just me being weird.
“Wait, Moon,” I spoke up, voice small. The robot stopped, joints squeaking.
His head tilted, hidden mechanisms clicking as he did so. “Hmmm?~”
“…Do you know where the restroom is?” I asked. “I can’t see where I’m going.”
Silence. Then, Moon closed the distance between us, tentatively taking my hand into his. It was cool to the touch.
“I’ll show you,” he spoke in a surprisingly gentle tone. “But then it’s back to bed with you.” I hummed an OK as I let him lead the way.
After I was done with my business, he brought me back to my sleeping spot. The moment I laid down, Moon was quick to tuck me in, making my heart jump in fright for a moment. I let him follow through with it though, figuring it was just a force of habit from his programming. As the robot was about to remove himself, I grabbed one of his fingers, just barely able to wrap my hand around it.
“Thank you, Moon,” I mumbled, snuggling back into my pillows. The animatronic didn’t seem to mind my resistance and remained at my side, eyes dimmed to a faint crimson.
“It’s nothing, little one,” he replied.
“I’m probably not going to see you when I wake up, right?” I yawned, beginning to doze off. “I wouldn’t have seen you at all if I didn’t wake up when I did.”
“…That is correct.”
“Do you know my name?”
“…No.” That didn’t sound very sure. Hm.
“Well, my name’s Y/N”, I told him, the image of him beginning to melt in with the darkness. My hand shifted its grip on his finger. “It was nice meeting you Moon.”
I felt him pull away, and I frowned, eyes still closed. Suddenly, something enveloped my hand and squeezed around it. It felt warm.
“You too, Y/N. Sweet dreams.”
#sun and moon fanfic#dca fanfic#sun x y/n#moon x y/n#dca x reader#dca x y/n#sun x reader#moon x reader#sun and moon x reader#dca sun#dca moon#platonic#dca#text post#idk what to tag here I’m tired
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Zutarians, I need some help...
Happy Zutara week, y’all! I’m Lil.
I’ve been working on my fic for...awhile now, and I’m at the point where everything’s kind of turned into word salad. I’d like to finish this thing, soon, but I need editors - badly. So, if you’re one of those folks who can write. (And particularly if you can write Katara or Zuko’s voice really well.) Please, please take a look. Friendly feedback is welcome!
https://archiveofourown.org/works/25653406/chapters/62276836
And here’s an excerpt from a Zutara moment below the cut:
Katara looks out from high up in the north wing of the palace—reserved especially for the royal family and their guests. She can see across acres of bleak concrete pavement leading up to the palace gates and, behind them, the jagged volcano walls of the capital city rising in the distance. It isn’t a particularly comforting sight.
Fifty-six bacui berry, fifty-seven bacui berry, …she counts to herself. Until, finally, she reaches one hundred bacui berry, and turns away from the gray window, back towards Azula’s wide canopy bed. The princess’s mouth hangs open and a trickle of drool spills out, but otherwise, she looks better than she had an hour ago. Katara removes the last acupuncture needle from her wrist and places it onto a gauze pad, which she rolls up and hands to Zuko.
“These need to be sterilized in a white-hot flame for twenty minutes before they can be used again,” she instructs.
Zuko puts a hand up to the bundle. A flame appears at the center of his palm. “Do you want me to just—?”
“Sorry Zuko, but you’re not hot enough,” she says, without thinking.
The corners of his mouth flicker upward into the kind of smirk she hasn’t seen since his ponytail days. Spirits, he’s infuriating, she thinks—grateful that her skin is dark enough to hide a blush. She removes the rest of her supplies from Azula’s bedside and takes a seat by the window, trying to ignore the burning sensation of Zuko’s eyes lingering on the back of her neck. She forces herself to concentrate on the little vials and instruments in her hand, but it’s no good. Everything is in the wrong place. She’ll have to take it all out again and repack it later.
“Katara,” he says, coming up beside her at the window. “Did you ever read Love Amongst the Dragons?”
Katara shoots him a wry smile. “No,” she says. “Funnily enough, we didn’t have a lot of fire nation epics in our village library.”
“Azula made fun of me, but I always liked it.” He smiles a little to himself, then points, drawing Katara’s attention to a spot on the grim horizon. “Do you see that mountain, there? The one that curves?”
Katara shivers, drawing a little closer to Zuko. “The one that looks like a claw?” she asks.
He nods. “I know, it’s scary, isn’t it? If you believe the old story, it’s the claw of the great dragon, himself. It’s where the name of the district comes from — Kaa Garr. Great Dragon. And, right there where the mountain turns in on itself…” he moves his finger up the pane a little so Katara can see a black spot in the distance, “is the prison where I’m keeping my father.”
Katara lets out a little involuntary gasp and presses her fingers to her mouth. Zuko looks down at her, a wry glint in his eye. “If you thought my sister’s arrangements were bad,” he says, “you should see his.”
“I’m sorry,” is all she can think to say.
“Don’t be,” he shrugs. “You know my father isn’t exactly a nice guy. I didn’t get this scar on my face from a training accident, you know?”
“I know,” Katara says, reaching up to touch the edges of his burned skin with the practiced hands of a healer.
In truth, they had never really talked about how he’d gotten his scar, but Katara had heard rumors going all the way back to her time in the Fire Nation with Toph, Sokka, and Aang. Zuko allows her fingers to wander over his scar for a moment, tracing the lines and folds on the puckered skin. He gets lost for a minute in the phantom sensation—wondering if he’s only imagining the gentle pressure. It’s so tender and intimate that his breath catches in his chest for fear that a sharp exhale might disturb the delicate balance between them. But then Azula flops over in bed, bringing Zuko back to himself. He clears his throat, and Katara’s hand drops to her side.
“It just makes me wonder if I should be trying to help my father…you know…the way you’re helping Azula.”
Katara tries not to let her emotions show on her face. She does not believe for one second that Ozai is entitled to the same treatment as his daughter, but she also believes that, ultimately, the decision is Zuko’s to make.
“Do you think your father deserves a second chance?” She asks, trying to keep her voice even.
“No!” he shouts, raking his fingers through his hair in frustration. “That’s the problem, I don’t think he deserves it! But I can’t figure out why. I mean, he not that different from my sister, is he? But, every day, I felt guilty about Azula, and every day I’m grateful that my father is still locked up!”
Katara watches as Zuko paces back and forth across the antique carpet, winding himself up. “Then you came, and I feel better about Azula—I really do, Katara—but now I’m suddenly guilty about my father. I’m the fire lord, shouldn’t I at least be fair?”
“Zuko,” Katara says, holding out an arm to stop his pacing, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but when was the last time you had a bath? Or slept in a real bed?”
He blinks down at her, “Uh, it might have been a few days. Why?”
“I think,” she says, using her most soothing voice, “that all these big questions can wait for a day or two while you rest.”
He looks skeptical, but Katara insists: “Look at you, Zuko, you’re exhausted. I’m not saying that it won’t be difficult, but I promise it will all seem better in the m-morning.” As she says it, she stifles a yawn, and Katara suddenly realizes that she, too, is exhausted.
Noticing this, Zuko takes the medicine bag from her hand and, after checking all of Azula’s locks, leads her down the hall to her room. It’s hard to tell with Zuko, but he seems excited about something. The corners of his mouth keep twitching up, like he’s trying to hide a smile. The whole of the third-floor hallway smells like fresh paint, even though the hallways look the same as they’ve always been. It makes Katara’s head swim. When they arrive at what she assumes will be her bedroom here in the Fire Nation, Zuko throws open the door for her, and Katara gasps.
The room is in the style of the Fire Nation—a wooden chest for clothes, a low-slung writing table, and an imposing four poster bed, but the details are all Water Tribe. The walls are covered with bright blue paper depicting life in the poles. The furniture handles are all solid, gleaming mother of pearl. The bed is strewn with gigantic, fluffy pelts that could only have come from the south pole.
“What do you think?” Zuko asks, studying her face. “Is it too much? I had rooms made up for the Earth Kingdom and the Air Nation, too. I don’t want you to think I’m abusing your culture, but I do want my guests to feel welcome here. I know the Fire Nation royal palace isn’t anybody’s favorite place.” He winces, thinking about the terrible stain of his father’s legacy.
Katara considers Zuko kindly. He’s hovering just outside the room—neither in nor out. She realizes that she’s never felt more warmly towards the young fire lord.
“You’re a lot like your uncle, you know that?” she says, after a minute.
Katara watches as his guarded features break into a genuine smile. “Thanks,” he says, running his fingers along the edge of the doorframe. “You know I was hoping you or your brother would be the first ones to use this room.”
“You’re lucky it’s me! Sokka would be jumping on the bed, already.”
Zuko laughs, and Katara grins with pride. It’s not easy making Zuko laugh.
“I didn’t even ask!” He says, eagerly. “How is Sokka? And Aang?”
Now it’s Katara’s turn to look guarded. “Sokka’s fine,” she says, trying to keep her voice neutral. “He’s angry because he can’t go to Ba Sing Se without Appa…” Then, anticipating Zuko’s next question, Katara explains everything in a rush: “Aang left for Omashu. He got a letter from Bumi saying that the city was unstable, and he left me and Sokka behind.”
Zuko’s reaction is not what Katara expects. His eyebrow furrows, and he lets out a troubled groan, so sharp and low that Katara can almost feel the reverberations in his chest. “Katara…Bumi is dead. He died about a week ago. Didn’t Aang tell you?”
“Oh,” is all Katara can manage. She plops herself down at the end of the bed and looks up at Zuko, dazed. “No, Aang hasn’t written to me since he left for Omashu.” The admission earns her a sharp sideways glance, but she doesn’t notice. She’s too wrapped up in thoughts of the Earth King.
“What happened?” she asks.
“I don’t know,” he admits, lowering himself down beside her on the bed. “The Fire Nation has…informants…in Omashu, but I haven’t heard from them in a few days.” The way he hesitates before the word ‘informants’ makes Katara wonder if he is uncomfortable having spies in the Earth Kingdom. Zuko had always preferred fair-play and transparency, even at his own expense.
“But you have suspicions,” she presses him.
He nods. “To tell you the truth, I’m glad Sokka’s not in Ba Sing Se right now.”
“Why not?” Katara gasps, “It’s not unstable, too, is it?”
“No,” he says, resting his head against the bedpost and letting his eyelids droop. “At least none of my advisors seem to think it is. I’m the one who has an issue. And it’s only a feeling, Katara…”
“Because of Kai Kozu?” she asks.
Zuko’s snaps to attention so quickly that he sprains his neck. “Where did you hear that name?” he growls.
“Bumi wrote about him in his letter to Aang,” Katara explains.
“Ah, that makes sense,” Zuko says, rubbing the sprain. “Kai Kozu used to keep a pretty low profile. Barely anyone outside the Earth Kingdom had ever heard of him… But lately he’s been moving more and more into the public eye. I don’t like it. He’s already got power in Kyoshi and Chin. It wouldn’t surprise me if he had plans for Omashu and Ba Sing Se, too.”
“Oh no! Zuko!” Katara’s hand flies to the reassuring carvings on her mother’s necklace, and she traces them apprehensively. “What about Toph and Suki? What about your uncle? Isn’t he still in the city?”
“I did write to them,” Zuko shrugs. “I asked them to stay here in the palace, but Toph and Suki are out in the country somewhere. I can’t reach them.”
“And your uncle?”
“Uncle doesn’t want to leave his tea shop. And besides…” Zuko blushes brick red, “I think he might have a lady friend in the city. He’s acting like a love-sick teenager.”
Katara watches as Zuko drags his fingers through his hair, tugging at the ends. “You’re really worried about this, aren’t you?” she asks.
“I am,” he admits.
Katara leans back into the mountain of fluffy pillows and soft white furs, and closes her eyes—too tired to care that Zuko is still watching her. She says a silent prayer for Toph, Suki, and Iroh in Ba Sing Se, and thanks every spirit she can name for her father’s stubbornness. At least she knows Sokka is safe in the Southern Water Tribe—far, far away from the Earth Kingdom capital…
As she drifts off into sleep, she reaches out to feel Zuko’s warm body beside her—his chest rising and falling evenly. She draws a little closer, and he opens his arms wide to make room for her. She pillows her head in the crook of his arm and breathes in a scent like something out of a dream. In fact, she thinks it must have been a dream, because when she wakes up in the night he is gone, and the spot where she imagined he had lain is awash with moonlight.
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abandoned lawsan fantasy magic royalty arranged marriage fic excerpt
(Earlier this year, I made a deal with @yukino-ks that I'd trade x words of my abandoned lawsan bigbang attempt depending on their exam results. They got 2.6k off me and I've been terribly slow in getting an excerpt I can actually show people. (There's a reason I abandoned over 20k and several editing passes.) It's unbetad and WIP and just an excerpt of a longfic so it has some notes mixed in, but I finally have something I'm willing to let see light of day. Sorry I took so long, and congrats on doing well!)
Warnings: forced marriage, dark themes, magic coercion (I mean, Doffy exists), general background awfulness, but hey cute heart pirates interaction
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The engagement ring sat heavy on Sanji's finger, warm with his own body heat and with the faint power of Law's magic. A pale blue stone on a white-gold band, the crisp blank sky of winter finally breaking, the white-blue of lightning, of a glacier cracking as it falls into the sea.
Law on the marble floor collapsed when the King Donquixote no longer deigned to puppet his broken body with the betrothal ceremony finished.
Absently, Sanji played with the ring, conscious of the feel of it against his skin, how it changed how he moved his hand. He wondered if Law was awake and about, or if he was still in the deep healing sleep that prompted his servants to close ranks and politely ask Sanji to leave. He wondered if he could ask, or if that would destroy the tentative sort-of friendship they'd started to form before the cruel proceedings of the day before. Sanji had followed his first instinct was to help, to kneel beside Law and help him bear up his weight on fractured bones, to help him back to his tower— it might have done more harm than good. Law was a proud man, and Sanji had inadvertently wounded his pride.
A knock on the door dragged Sanji from his thoughts.
"Yes?" he asked, dropping his hand to his side and standing. The person at the door merely knocked again, so Sanji opened the door.
It's Law, his hair messy and in simple sleeping clothes, dark, soft, and formless. His symbol is emblazoned across his chest in yellow. A hint of bruising and the peek of a bandage shows where the fabric drapes off Law's prominent collarbones.
A stab of pity and empathy and solidarity goes through Sanji, and the hand he has on the handle of the door goes numb as it grips harder, where Law cannot see.
"Come with me," said Law. He started moving away, giving Sanji space to enter the corridor.
Sanji raised a brow and the oddly visceral feelings evaporated instantly.
"Good morning to you too," replied Sanji, even as he followed and closed the door behind him. It melded back to the stone wall, perfectly hidden. "Go with you where?"
"Kitchens." Law's walking gait was slower and shorter than usual, and uneven though he still stood tall. It was almost like yesterday hadn't happened, except for the glimpse of pale metal and yellow stone on his hand.
"Oh, you're wearing it," came out of Sanji's mouth before he realised how stupid that sounded. He couldn't let his guard down just because his bleeding heart had gone out to Law when it turned out that the Crown Prince was very human behind all the rumours.
Law blinked at him in surprise, lifting his hand to look at the ring, as if he'd forgot it was there, like it'd always been there and he had only just noticed.
"Yeah," he said, looking away a bit too quickly. "This way."
===/\===
A set of heavy wooden doors opened to a cosy kitchen, packed to full with people seated at a long wooden table, laden with plates and bowls of sweet oat porridge, flatbreads, steamed buns, eggs and bacon and beans, with savoury rice porridge, with noodles— cuisines from all over. Sanji barely had a moment to take it all in as everyone at the table jumped up, cheering and clapping.
"Welcome to His Highness' lover!" someone hooted and loud laughter ensued, whistles and cheering resounded. Someone shoved a champagne flute into his hand and another someone all but dragged him to the bench where somehow the rest of the table squeezed to make space for him.
"Congrats on being a bad influence on His Highness," the redhead who dragged him to the table said cheerily as he squeezed his chair in to reach the table. "Bread roll?"
Sanji took one and it was good bread, a crust which crunched lightly under his fingers, soft fluffy insides when he broke it open and placed it on his plate.
"Bad influence?" asked Sanji, bewildered by the ruckus. He looked round for Law, and found him standing just behind his left shoulder. Law nodded, sipping from a bright yellow mug which he hadn't been holding a moment before.
"You defied Doflamingo," Law explained.
Oh, they had to be referring to the sarcastic backtalk Sanji had made when the giant pink-feather fashion disaster tried to get him to report on Law's comings and goings. So Law had been conscious for that. Sanji was suddenly very glad he'd decided to mouth off instead of try to pretend to play along. Besides, it had been a clever comeback.
"Anything that pisses off the King Asshole, or any of the assholes over in the Toybox, makes you alright with us," the redhead elaborated, dumping half a plate of greasy bacon on Sanji's plate.
"And if you can get our prince to eat, everyone will love you," the person seated on the redhead's other side said. It was the man with the white and black hat, who had taken a half-unconscious Law from Sanji and barked out orders to the other servants before politely asking Sanji to leave. He frowned as the redhead took the rest of the bacon, stacking the empty plate beneath his own. "And dammit Shachi, I wanted some."
"Not my fault your food scramble game is weak, Peng. Ask Ikkaku to pass some, there's another plate on the other end of the table," Shachi said unapologetically. The man in the hat rolled his eyes, but turned and yelled down the other end of the table for the bacon.
Sanji took a moment to process all this and looked back to Law.
"You don't eat?" asked Sanji, incredulous.
"I do."
"Coffee isn't food," Peng recited almost like a proverb as he put some bacon on his plate. He did not offer it to Shachi.
For a moment, Law didn't answer, and then pointedly, he sipped his coffee. It was so bratty and childlike that Sanji nearly choked trying not to laugh.
Peng rolled his eyes and looked to Sanji.
"You see what we have to work with?" he said, as if Law couldn't hear them. "The list of what he eats could be written on your palm."
Now if that weren't a challenge Sanji couldn't refuse—
"Write it down for me and give me free reign of a kitchen," Sanji replied. "And I'll see what I can do."
"You don't have to," Law started to say, just as Peng grinned and said "Done!", reaching over Shachi's plate to shake Sanji's hand.
Sanji shook on it, excited for the chance to cook again for the first time since coming to Dressrosa. Law rolled his eyes, but fondly. If he'd really wanted to, he could order otherwise. It was… nice, that he let this go.
"Do you think I could try some?" asked the huge polar bear toy seated on Law's other side. Sanji startled, still not quite used to toys talking, but Law's hand just went up to pat the toy bear on his nose.
"You can't eat, Bepo. Otherwise I have to operate on you again and wash out your stuffing." Law paused. "I don't know why you like it anyway. It's not like you can taste it."
"It looks pretty and everyone else gets to eat. I feel lonely."
Law patted Bepo on the nose again comfortingly.
"It's not that great," said Law. He finished his coffee.
Sanji resolved then and there to make Law eat those words with dinner.
===/\===
[More conversation, Shachi and Bepo are escorting Sanji back to his room. Originally, I had fun worldbuilding stuff about how much Law hates the tower and Bepo's origin story but it's not relevant in the excerpt.]
"What's that?" asked Sanji. In a short joining corridor between this homey servant's kitchen and the lonely tower and its rooms which lock from the outside, there was a space where he could see a sliver of sky, and a splash of colour below.
"What's what?" asked Shachi. Sanji gestured over the side of the open down to a sort of courtyard garden, with flowering plants grown in elaborate patterns so from the top down, they formed complicated motifs and images of a strange ship breaking the waves, a treasure chest and a heart.
"It's pretty, right?" said Bepo cheerfully. "His Highness does it himself, he moves the flowers around when he's had a bad dream. He says it makes him feel better."
There was space, paths amongst the flowers, a couple of benches and a small pavilion, along with the little pond and irrigation system and lights.
"It's Law's garden, then," said Sanji, an idea coming to mind. "Say, is there a table in that pavillion?"
===/\===
[Sanji cooks dinner for Law and they have a nice romantic dinner in the pavillion but Law Does Not Care about food and that is honestly kind of upsetting for Sanji. I had to cut my favourite part of the entire fic out and that hurtie just a bit.]
"If you've had enough of forcing me to eat—" Law said, and Sanji wanted to snap at that, but Law managed to finish his sentence first. "Do you want to take a walk?"
"I thought you had work to do?" replied Sanji, a little coldly, but Law didn't seem to notice. He shrugged.
"It can wait, I'll be up late tonight anyway."
They walk. The air is cold, and clouds roll through the courtyard sometimes, wisp and damp and cold. The courtyard meets the side wall of the castle, and on the other side is the steep drop into a distant dark fog.
It didn't take long to walk the entirety of the courtyard, small as it was. They sat on the lone bench, it was dewy with the condensation of the clouds and the rapidly cooling night.
"So, with all this, I take it you want to try and act like lovers," commented Law.
It was more a judgment than a question. Sanji stiffened, was Law going to make fun of him?
"Not with that attitude," Sanji retorted. His hand went to his pocket for his cigarettes. He lit one, agitated and feeling like the effort he'd put into making the evening nice was, all in all, a nett waste.
Law considered Sanji without taking any offence.
"I'm not interested anyway. Don't get me wrong," Law added quickly, a hand outstretched as Sanji sat straighter, half-way to standing and walking away. "You're plenty attractive, and if it's sex you want, I could show you a good time."
"You know the meaning of the word?"
Law ignored his interjection.
"It's the… other things," he continued calmly. "The holding hands and fancy dinners and being sentimental. I'm not good at that. I'm not going to stab you if you look at another man, and I'd prefer the same vice versa."
Sanji looked at him flatly.
"What."
"It's common enough around here that there's a proverb that... never mind, the explanation is too long. The point is, if romance is what you're hoping to get out of this marriage, I'm going to disappoint. I can put up with it a little bit but not for long."
"Why the marriage, then?"
Law's head snapped to him sharply. His expression made him look more angry than confused, though his tone when he spoke was confused.
"I told you, after the ceremony," Law said, as if he expected Sanji to remember every detail said when Law had been crumpled on the floor and bleeding through his engagement suit. "We both got signed away without having any say in it. I thought we had an understanding, and I'm surprised you want something more. I mean, it's…" He couldn't seem to find an adjective for it. "Well. it's something. That you want to try. I'm flattered."
"You couldn't refuse this marriage?" asked Sanji, processing this new information. If it were true, that made Law more a fellow prisoner than a bored and slightly sympathetic jailor. That changed everything, it meant Sanji had more allies than he thought. Still— "But you tried. That time before the betrothal ceremony. You told the King you're not marrying anyone."
"And that clearly worked," Law retorted snidely. His glowing yellow eyes were less friendly now. "So, is that what you thought of me? And all this— the aid, the kindness, the food— was this you bending backwards to keep me happy? So I don't call off the engagement and leave you to face your family's wrath for losing a valuable alliance?"
He was angry, and right. Some of it had been a little calculated, so what? Sanji had nothing here, no rights of magic to stand on, no support, and people who would die if he stepped one toe out of line. That didn't mean he couldn't want something, anything, to make the days more bearable. That maybe, though married to a man he'd never met before, he might have something which passed for love.
"Not… exactly. You already know my situation, and besides, I'm meant to be an insult," explained Sanji, grim. He hadn't expected to speak of this, and it was harder than he thought. "You're the Crown Prince, you should have married my sister, or at the very least the eldest son. Not—" the third son who has no magic to speak of. "Not me. So, you're right. I'm at your mercy. But you've been decent. So I thought. Well. We could be friends at least."
It took a moment but Law's glare softened, pacified.
"Don't worry about that part so much. The insult bit— we know. Doflamingo thought it was hilarious. He wants to parade you around until you're the very symbol of the Germa and your father will be associated with you."
A pause.
"Not liking that much either, " Sanji said, voice flat.
"He has a shit sense of humour," agreed Law. "Your being fair-haired and a smoker is partly why he agreed, I'm sure. Or he wouldn't have forced me to give you that cloak."
Speaking of the cloak, Sanji remembered the package he'd put in his bag. He fished it out, and offered it to Law.
"You can have this back,'' said Sanji.
"You don't like your betrothal gift?" asked Law, but Sanji noticed he was quick to take the offered cloak in hand.
"It seems important to you."
… No answer, but Law draped the cloak around his own shoulders. It dwarfed him much like it had dwarfed Sanji. It seemed to be made for someone closer to the King's stature.
"I was under the impression you're not that fond of the King," Sanji commented.
For a second, it seemed like Law would not respond. Head bowed and eyes closed, with the great cloak around him, he looked small and lost in memory.
"His brother." said Law without opening his eyes, and he drew the coat tighter around himself with his hands. "My benefactor."
He brought the sleeve up against the white light of the garden lamp.
"See?" said Law, and his expression was so gentle that for a moment Sanji felt like he shouldn't have seen it, like it was some secret thing he had no right to. "The deep purple, almost black. It's hard to see, but it's there."
Sanji tore his eyes from Law's face to look at the shadows of the cloak. Sure enough, there were purple sparks, almost lost in the brighter pink.
"I see it."
"It's not a powerful type of magic," said Law, voice wistful. "I used to disdain it myself, when I was a child. This particular one is Silent Night— it blocks out noise to give the wearer a— a peaceful sleep."
Law's voice tripped over his words and he lowered the coat, curled over it, for a second he was so overcome with emotion he couldn't speak. Sanji averted his eyes, looking out over the gardens. The pale shapes of the white and yellow flowers in the white garden lights, and the distant moon. The flat blades of the leaves and the washed out mosaic tiles.
"This—" Law's hands tightened on the cloak in Sanji's peripheral vision. "Means a lot. More than you could know. ...Thanks."
It was awkward, but then, Law seemed the type unaccustomed to thanking others.
"You're welcome," Sanji said simply, and they sat together in silence late into the night.
#lawsan#trafalgar law#black leg sanji#opfic#one piece#heart pirates#bepo#penguin one piece#shachi one piece#you cant write law without talking about corasan it cant be done#my writing#mine#yukino-ks
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Just Another Morning at Wayne Manor
This is an excerpt from chapter 29 of my DC animated universe fic, The Villain Wrangler.
You can read the rest of the chapter here, or start from the beginning of the story here. This is an AO3 link if you prefer, but be aware that not all chapters are uploaded there.
“Is that another case, Master Bruce?"
Bruce looked up from his tablet as Alfred set down several mugs of coffee and tea on the table in front of him. He gave a small smile in thanks as he lifted the black mug to his lips, pausing to inhale the rich scent of dark coffee before taking a sip. "Yes. Another one was submitted to me for final clearance yesterday afternoon." He glanced down at the dimming screen, tapping again so it'd stay awake. "Take a look." He handed the tablet to Alfred. Bruce knew he was sure to get a kick out of who had been requested.
"Oh dear," Alfred said after a moment, a wry smile slipping onto his face as Bruce leaned back in his chair. "Have you informed him yet?"
Bruce quirked an eyebrow in response and took another drink of his black coffee. "I thought it'd be a nice surprise."
He and Alfred both turned towards the entryway as they heard a loud yawn come from the kitchen. "What'd be a nice surprise?" Tim asked as he shuffled in, one hand ruffling his hair into an even further fluffy mess while the other belatedly raised to block a second yawn.
"Good morning, Master Tim." Amusement colored Alfred's tone as Tim slouched into a seat next to Bruce. He blearily accepted the red mug of chai tea that was pushed in front of him.
"Oh. Is this mine?" He took the cup and stared at it suspiciously before taking a cautious sip. His eyes closed in bliss and he leaned back in his chair. "Ah, espresso shots. Man's greatest invention."
"One of these days, I swear you're going to get an espresso-induced heart attack," Stephanie muttered as she came into the dining room from the foyer, rubbing tiredly at her eyes.
Bruce frowned, counting at the number of filled mugs that Alfred had brought out as Stephanie picked up the deep purple one. There were five left, and only four of the kids still lived in the manor full-time, including Tim and Steph. Had that many of them come back to the manor after patrol last night? Maybe he needed a few espresso shots in his drink too.
"Hey Steph," Tim muttered, sounding a bit more awake than before. He turned to look at Bruce. "What's the surprise you were talking about?"
"Oooh! A surprise?" Steph sat in the chair next to Bruce and leaned over to try and read off of his tablet. She pouted when he angled it away from her, so Bruce handed it to her with a roll of his eyes.
"Jason's been requested," he explained for Tim's sake since he couldn't see the case file.
"Jason's been requested for what?" Dick's voice cheerily called out despite how exhausted he sounded as he walked in with his arm wrapped around Cassandra's shoulders. Bruce knew Cass wasn't very fond of being touched, but by how tired she looked, he had a feeling Dick was the main reason she was on her feet. The two sat down in adjacent seats and eagerly accepted the coffees that Alfred handed them.
"I didn't realize you were planning to stay over, Dick," Bruce commented first. That at least solved the puzzle of one of the three extra overnight guests.
Dick shrugged. "There was an impromptu movie night. Harry Potter– couldn't miss out on that. Babs is here too, she'll be down in a minute."
"A sick kid asked the Villain Wrangler if he could meet Jason," Steph interrupted before they could go further as she informed the two new arrivals, knowing they both were curious but trying not to show it. The laughter from Dick had been expected, but the quiet giggle from Cass was a welcome surprise as she accepted the tablet from the blonde.
A scoff came from the doorway, and Bruce didn't even have to look to know it came from his youngest. "So Todd's finally gone rogue enough to be classed as a villain?"
Even Alfred rolled his eyes at that. "Try and have a good morning, Master Damian," he admonished as he handed the boy a mug of tea when he walked past. They all knew Damian was not a morning person.
"Thanks, Alfred," he muttered before sitting down. Despite his mood, everyone knew he wouldn't be rude directly towards the butler.
"Wow, is everyone up already?" Barbara strolled in, stretching her arms above her head with a yawn. "Didn't realize I was so slow– thanks, Alfred!" She stopped to thank the man as he handed her a pink mug full of coffee. "Did I miss anything important?"
"Jason's been requested by World of Wishes so Danny'll have to convince him to go," Tim said with a sigh, annoyed from hearing the same news repeatedly. He'd finished his espresso shot-filled tea and now had some color to his face.
Babs stared at Tim for a second before Cass held up the tablet in her hands and Babs walked to stand behind her chair so she could read it. "Oh, Danny's gonna love this," she said with a grin.
Bruce hid his smirk at her words. Danny Johnson had certainly proved to be entertaining when he ignored the security threat that the man's work still posed. He was curious as to how Johnson would convince Jason to go– he didn't have doubt that Johnson would find a way after all of the more difficult individuals he had tracked down.
His gaze turned towards the final mug left on the table. It seemed Babs was the last of the kids that had been over, seeing as conversation around the table had turned towards which of the Hogwarts houses was best (Bruce was in favor of Slytherin– but he digressed).
Steph beat him to asking about it. "Alfred, is the last coffee yours?"
Alfred shot Bruce's longest ward with a knowing smile. "No, Miss Stephanie. I prepared it for a guest who called ahead."
Bruce's eyebrows furrowed at that, especially after his butler sent an amused glance his way.
And it seemed he wasn't the only confused one. "Wait, which one of us would've called ahead? I didn't think any of us did that."
"That is correct, Master Richard," Alfred agreed with a long-suffering sigh that Bruce knew would have all the kids soon letting the butler know when they'd be at the manor. "I never said it was one of you children."
Bruce's eyes narrowed suspiciously as he finally deciphered the meaning behind Alfred's smug smirk. "You don't mean–"
"Goooood morning, little birdies!" A voice called from the entrance hall and moments later Selina Kyle waltzed in, her heels clacking against the hardwood floor as she walked. Several voices said hello in response as Bruce rose to greet her.
"Selina," he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek as she wrapped an arm around his waist and reached out with her other hand to fist bump Steph. "I wasn't expecting to see you this morning."
She smiled slyly back at him. "The best surprises are the ones you don't expect," she teased, nudging him with her hip. "Ooh, is that coffee? Alfred, you're a dear." She blew the man a kiss as he passed her the final mug and then slipped around Bruce so she was sitting in his chair. Bruce gave her an unimpressed stare which she returned with a wink.
Yes, it was shaping up to be just another normal day in the life of Bruce Wayne.
#batfamily#bruce wayne x selina kyle#alfred pennyworth#dick grayson#tim drake#damian wayne#jason todd#stephanie brown#barbara gordon#cassandra cain#batman#dc universe#dc comics fanfic#soft hours with hawk#hawk’s drabbles#Batman#robin#nightwing#black bat#catwoman
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Bangtan fics that I’ve read and liked (will get updated)
uhh, so the thing is that a lot of jikook fics will be in here, as it is my otp. But I have also put in many others. Thank you!!! (this goes in descending order, so newer ones will come on top, and i still have a lot of older fics, they’ll come at the bottom) (all fic titles in italics are my ult favs and all ships in bold have their plot and are not just implied)
On Patrol and On Patrol - Season 2 : jikook, yoonseok, namjin, police au, LOVE this series, check it out!
summary: Officer Jeon has his eyes on Mr. Adorable.Officer Min has a strange neighbor he can't seem to keep out of his life.Captain Kim finds comfort in his son's homeroom teacher. Well, cops need some loving too, right?
A Gilded World : i cannot believe this fic aint down there, yoonjin, must read, chaebol au (i love them), ULT FAV, kdrama au, with vmin who has a tiny storyline too, and side namseok, rated E, 169k words, bros jinkook, READ IT, the fic that got me interested in yoonjin.
summary: Jeon Seokjin has exactly four weeks to stop the impending engagement of his younger brother, doomed to a loveless marriage. The only way to stop it is to make a better match, more advantageous, more lucrative for the Jeon family. It's impossible. It's his only option.Min Yoongi does not want, will never want, will never ever even consider, marriage. It's not in the cards. He's stubborn enough to achieve the total ban on marriage talks. Except maybe his grandmother is a little more stubborn than he is, and maybe she's determined to see him march down the aisle.The chaebol arranged marriage au that exactly one and a half people asked for.
baby, love me hard and hold me tight : jikook, ceo kook, tsundere-yet-not-so-tsundere min, lots of smut, dancer jimin. summary’s too long.
all the light we cannot see : yoonkook, spaceship au, tsundere yoongi, wow i read a lot of those, rated E, 109k words.
summary (part of it): (when jeongguk finally gets his chance to sail the cosmos, it’s onboard the ship of an aggravating man named min yoongi. he thinks it’ll be extraordinarily dull—but the universe, and the legend of treasure planet, have other plans.)
note: another not so common yet not completely rare pair, i honestly love this fic so much.
nobody's like you : jikook, college au, pissed jimin,dense kook, a cute fic, rated T, 20k words.
summary: if you have a crush but you don't know you have a crush, is it really a crush? and other great philosophical debates with jeon jeongguk.
or, jeongguk kinda fucks up and jimin can only take so much.
흰 여름 ('White Summer') : yoonmin, non-au, lil angst, rated T, 24k words.
summary: “Diversity,” Namjoon had said when he had explained the concept to them. “Learning to love yourself, no matter what.” “We already did that,” Yoongi had pointed out. “Literally the same title.” But Namjoon, when he looked at him, had seemed strangely bright and somber at the same time. “Not like this,” he had said.Or, Jimin and Yoongi have to kiss for an MV. And deal with the fallout.
7 Minutes in Heaven : yoonmin, highschool au, fluff, mutual pining, rated T, 8.4k words, too long a summary.
♛ Chrysoprase ♛ : vmin, abo but with a twist, aristocracy au, ongoing, a piece written beautifully, rated E, 39k words, rich tae and poor min.
summary (partial): Taehyung is a rich boy who gets captivated by a trapeze act from an unknown Omega at a theater show sending him on a ride of emotions--and ruts.
Mono No Aware : jikook, rated E, 104k words, divorce au, model agency au, summary’s too long.
Cotton Candy : highschool au, yoonmin, highscool band au, another GREAT fic, set in the 90s, 240k words, rated E.
summary (partial): As spring turns into summer, school band Cotton Candy unexpectedly loses its singer and the members are forced to look for a new vocalist. Six boys find one in the form of the promiscuous pink haired boy Park Jimin who makes a home in their hearts and finally finds a place he belongs.
Beta Tau Sigma : come FIGHT me, but this IS a classic, frat au, i scrolled through this long ass post twice, i cant believe its not down there, namjin, you need an ao3 acc to read this, anyways i suggest you to make one, crack, 123k words, rated M, shenanigans, side yoonmin with a tiny storyline, FAV.
Before This Christmas : taegi, non au, amnesia, a great fic, rated T, 8k words, summary’s too long.
black versus blue : taekook, soulmate au, a LOT of angst, i LOVE this fic, hurt/comfort, dr tae, side yoonmin and namjin, rated E, 41k words.
summary: Taehyung had always dreaded meeting his soulmate, unlike the rest of the world’s population. He always hid the words scrawled in black cursive on the inside of his right wrist and felt terror at the thought of them turning blue, of his soulmate speaking them.
And as he sprinted down the packed Seoul sidewalk, hot tears streaming down his cheeks and sobs choking his throat, he knew he'd been right.
Or was he?
sick boy : vmin, LOTS of homophobia, fluff and angst, dystopian korea, its a really good fic, rated M, 8k words, side namkook and yoonseok.
summary: Jimin has always lived in a society where pride was held higher than anything else. His kind nature is unwelcome, and he spends most of his life alone.
Taehyung is the boy who dyes his hair every week, is too eccentric for his own good and is, most importantly, not like the rest of the town that they live in.
Look out the window, do you see love? : jikook, I LOVE THIS, kidnapping au, ceo kook, college student min, tsundere kook, heavy smut and drama, rated E, 100k words, summary too long.
a blessed touch, skin deep : yoonjin, slightly platonic, oneshot, fluff, massage au, but not the smutty kind, rated G, 3k words.
summary: Hoseok recommends his favorite masseur to Yoongi.
Yoonjin Massage AU, with side Hoseok/Jimin and Taehyung/Jungkook
the heart of a siren : jikook, pirates au, angst, enemies to lovers,rated E, 92k words.
summary: Beware of what you take from the sea. She is not a treasure to be plundered, but a dark, vast void that will swallow you up and think nothing of it.
The Collabofornication : yoonmin, idol au, rapper au, lots of smut, 32k words, enemies to lovers, rated E, 32k words, summary’s too long, really good.
teeter totter : jihope, such a cute fic, 5+1, i love this one, neighbours au, 5k words, rated T.
summary: five times jimin accidentally stumbles into his neighbour and the one time it’s very much on purpose.
Take Care : a short jikook, accident au, angst and fluff, rated G, 2k words, college au.
summary: Roommates Jungkook and Jimin are in the midst of a friendship rift until an accident brings them together again.
Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo : yoonmin, rated T, royal au, 34k words, cute, i really like this twist on classics kinda thing.
summary: Everyone (including Taehyung, Jimin's best friend) could only talk about the ball the royal family was going to give in honor of the princes. Every single one was thinking and worrying about which clothes they should wear and how to impress the two, very single, princes. Jimin? He could only think about the new regular, who had a sweet tooth and the cutest smile he had ever seen.
The Universe Has Moved For Us, Without Missing A Single Thing : minjoon, such a feel good fic, tsundere min, canon, with a bit of yoonjin, so good, rated M, 14k words.
summary: Jimin is tasked to create his next comeback with his least favourite producer at BIGHIT, RM.
He is petty and bitter from day one.
Or, is he just really bad at feelings?
yesteryear's charms : jikook, hp au, a lot of fun, enemies to lovers (if you dont know, im a sucker for this particular trope), rated M, 18k words.
summary: After losing a bet, Jimin has to perform the Jingle Bell Rock routine from the iconic Muggle film, Mean Girls, at Hogwarts' annual talent show, dressed in red pleather and black knee-high boots. He receives a bigger reaction from certain people (read: ult rival Jeon Jeongguk) than expected.
a dose of salt : jikook, I LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS FIC, with a lot of taejin, doctors au, enemies to lovers, pls check it, its great, rated E, 145k words, ongoing, almost finished.
summary: Park Jimin is a renown cardiothoracic surgeon—a genius, a medical prodigy, the best surgeon at the hospital. He’s kind, friendly, handsome, and patient. He’s also the son of the hospital’s Chairman. But nobody needs to know that since he’s worked for and earned everything he’s accomplished on his own without the help of nepotism.Everyone loves him.
Everyone but Jeon Jungkook, the hot new military trauma surgeon straight out of the army. The decorated veteran is brilliant and quick witted, but has a hot temper and absolutely zero tolerance for bullshit.
When Park Jimin makes a bad first impression on him, things get extremely salty between the two very different personalities.
playing with fire : vmin, ONE OF MY ULT FAVS, rated T, 30k words, college au, drama actor v, dancer min, enemies to lovers, SO GOOD, laser tag.
summary: Despite never seeing eye to eye on things, Taehyung and Jimin find that they have more in common than expected through a game of laser tag, a play and a dance competition.
At 4 O'clock, I'll Stay : vmin, footballer (soccer) v, bar owner min, enemies to lovers, a good fic, grumpy min, rated E, 35.8k words.
summary (part of it): the one where Taehyung goes to Jimin's bar to talk bad about his latest soccer matches and Jimin waters down his drinks by "accident."
Happy Ending : namseok, implied OT7, massage au, rated M, smut, 2.3k words.
Rose Quartz and Pink Opal : such a good fic, i love this, if its down there im sorry just tell me in the comments, jikook, rated T, 21.4k words.
summary: “Everyone is born with either 1 or 2 small powers. If 1, then your soulmate has the other. They will swap the first time you see each other, and you will obtain both when you fall in love. If born with 2, you have no soulmate.”
tell me how to make this better : hurt/comfort, angst, vmin, non au, such a good fic, go check it, summary’s too long, rated T, 44.6k words.
loverboy : vminkook, a masterpiece, manipulation, assasin au, powers au, rated M, 9.7k words.
summary: this much jimin’s figured out: sometimes, somehow, his words make people fall in love with him.
Never Judge a Book by its Cover : jikook, rated M, library au, 25k words
summary: Thanks to Jungkook's idiot best friend, he drowned the books he borrowed from the library. Now, he has to work there to work off his debt. He doesn't really like the job but that one boy that always has his nose burried in his books makes his days much better.Or in which Jungkook meets bookworm Jimin and falls harder than he thought he would.
note: squeelll, I love this fic!
we've got chemistree : jikook, rated T, 19k words, fake dating au. (can’t put summary bc its too long)
note: I love love love it. do check it out.
The Pink Envelope : yoonmin, no ratings, 12k words, highschool au.
summary: to a prompt I received on tumblr "Oh shit, sorry I got the wrong locker" When Jimin is sending love letters to his crush via locker but fails because it is Yoongi's locker.au where 6 of them are highschool students (Jin has already graduated)... and Jungkook is also in highschool with the rest of them (please don't ask me why I just want him to be there hahahaha)
note: cute and fluffy.
Him : jikook, rated M, 35k words, college au, dancer!jimin au.
summary: 'And like the dawn, you woke the world inside of me You were the brightest shade of sun when I saw you' or “I mean a muse,” explained Yoongi, eyes traveling to Hoseok. “Someone that makes you feelthe shots. Not only take them.”Jeongguk snorted. “You’re just whipped.”“Maybe,” agreed Yoongi, winking. “But it works.”
note: touched my feels, lovely.
Nu ABO: A Memoir by Park Jimin : jikook, rated E, 34k words, non au, a/b/o au.
summary: The world didn't think it was necessary to give him a guide when it shoved all of these omega hormones at him, so here it is, Park Jimin's handbook on dealing with heats, unrequited love, and Jeon Jungkook.
note: amazing! Omega jimin dont wanna be an omega, and tries really hard to be an alpha. easily one of my faves.
Blackjack : yoonseok, vmin, namjin, chat fic, game fic, slightly creepy but light hearted, happy ending, not your ordinary chat fic, LOVE this, puzzles, mystery, rated T, 78k words, summary too long.
Fake Sugar : jinkook, rated E, non-tropey sugar daddy au, competitive eater jin, rich jungkook, fake sugar daddy, 87k words.
summary: im sorry, its too long. but ill put part of it.
(Hedge Fund wunderkind and Certified Awkward Gay Jungkook needs a sugar baby to show off at work, and Professional Competitive Eater and Objectively Beautiful Human Jin just wants to stop working shitty side-jobs. Fake Sugar Daddy AU. A trope and a half.)
note: a rare pair fic. (that rhymes, lol) i love the author, i have read all of his fics, i think.
Worldwide Lonesome : yoonjin, rated E, 39k words, non au.
summary: After the BBMA, Yoongi starts bringing guys back to the house.
note: i honestly love this ship and fic, it talks a lot about how closeted jin is and this fic has a great characterization for jin.
Pause, Rewind, Play: jikook, non au, rated G, 3k words.
summary: Jimin doesn’t know why it starts. Maybe it’s the eightieth post he’s seen today about him being rejected by Jungkook. But whatever the reason, Jimin starts to not care anymore.
note: loovve it, short and really good.
The Boy in the Music Box : yoonmin, mystical au i guess?, college au, rated T, 52k words.
summary: Yoongi doesn’t really expect anything special when he finds an old music box in his grandmother’s attic and she tells him to keep it. Oh sure, he expects the music box to be a pretty decoration to add to the stale interior of his small apartment. He expects it to play a tune and he might even dare to expect the barely-functioning little ballerina to dance along to the soft chimes, but that's it, really.The last thing he expects is for the little ballerina to take human form at night and throw his life out of balance with radiant smiles, soft giggles, and a heart-wrenching story.
note: another author i absolutely love, this fic is amazing. its one of the only fluffy ones that has made me weep! do check it out
pick me up, buttercup : taekook, soulmate au, crack au, 9k words, rated G.
summary: AU where your soulmate's first words to you will be tattooed on your wrist when you meet. Which freakin sucks, because Jungkook's forearm will now forever read "Hey baby, if you were a booger, I'd pick you first."What the fuck, universe.
note: a very light fic, i love it so much. its really really good.
Cherry Tree : yoonmin, hanahaki au, angsty, rated T, 10k words.
summary: Yoongi always thought that Jimin looked like a cherry blossom, like Spring had manifested itself in the form of a human.Now he knows for sure.
note: really good, not a tragic ending i swear.
good game, well played : vmin, library au, college au, rated G, 23k words.
summary: AN EXCERPT FROM PARK JIMIN'S PLANNER (ft. Jeon Jeongguk) -grammar reading :( -get pasta -buy the nice guy from the library ❤MY BIG GAY CRUSH❤ coffee
note: super good, college aus are one of my favs.
fairy brat : yoonmin, 3k words, rated T, supernatural au.
sumary: “I don’t know if you know but,” Namjoon says, “Hoseok’s roommate is a little… difficult. Yoongi hyung is a good guy, though, I promise.”“Anyone who lives with Hoseok hyung can’t be that bad,” Jimin says.Jimin could not be more wrong.
note: tsundere yoongi, really good!
The Perfect Japchae : yoonjin, 19k words, rated T, neighbours/college au.
summary: In the eight months he’d lived here, neither of them had done more than nod in greeting when they passed in the hallway. Most of the time he just ignored Kim Seokjin and went about his own business while inwardly seething. A little voice deep down questioned why, exactly, he was so pissed all the time whenever he thought about his neighbour… but Min Yoongi really didn’t have an answer.
note: i love this pairing, such a good fic!!!
aye, love (you led me to a miracle) : yoonjin, rated T, 6k words, Cafe AU, tsundere yoongi.
summary: It’s six in the morning and all Yoongi wants is some fucking coffee.(Not to be, not to be assaulted with a possibly illegal stare and a smile that could probably bring dead flowers back to life, god dammit)
note: such an amount of fluff, i love it.
I need you boy (you're beautiful) : jikook, chat fic, rated T, 18k words.
summary: (part of it)
t h e d e s t r o y e r: jimin who is ur future husband
ChimChimz: ok so like
ChimChimz: here’s the thingy
00ngi: omfg you don't even know who he is
ChimChimz: uM
note: love it, really good.
to be with you : jikook, rated T, non au, 4k words.
summary: 5 times jungkook tries (and fails) to confess to jimin and the 1 time he succeeds.
note: really cute fic, but i think ill not put notes on all fics now, im getting fed up
A Wish Your Heart Makes : kook/everyone, polyyy, smut, another venturing into newer waters fic, rated E, 16.6k words.
summary: "This can't be the right translation," Taehyung says, before Jungkook can do something crazy like just ask to suck Jimin's dick. Taehyung has his phone out, and is frowning as he taps the screen. "But I looked it up on Naver, and there might be something called sex pollen? Sex pollen? Like, plants?"
gladly beyond : jikook, 21k words, rated M, enemies to lovers fic, sports fic.
summary: too long, but jimin sees the tattoo of his “enemy” at a strip club.
note: another trope i love :)
Riptide : jikook, i actually visited this 10 times?!?, rated M, non au, 62k words, rated M.
summary (part of it): A three year story [2013-2016] of coming together, breaking apart, and putting each other back together again. Jeon Jungkook learns about change, growing up, and the hardships of falling in love with a friend.
note: really love it
Hey, Baby, I've Got My Ion You : jikook, chem au, bad puns, rated T, 4k words.
summary:
everyone: fvck the maknae jimin: i'm trying - (aka: chem au where jeongguk jumps two grades and becomes jimin’s lab partner and maybe a little more than that.)
note: copper tellurium (loll)
honest you do : jikook, idol au, reality show au, 26k words, rated T.
summary: “Do you think you’ll be a good husband?” Jimin smiles. “I’ll really, really try.”
Korea's darling, Park Jimin, gets married.
note: a great fic, honestly.
In the Line of Fire : jikook, are you even here?, if so ty, frat au, 11k words, rated E.
summary: For some reason, Jimin was everyone's favorite target.
A truth universally aknowledged : yoonmin, college au, rated T, 6k words.
summary: "It is a truth universally aknowledged that Park Jimin has the most wanted ass out of the whole college."AKA 5 times that Jimin gets asked out and Min Yoongi butts in + 1 time where the tables are turned.
Unrequited : yoonjin, taejin, hanahaki au, rated T, 3k words, not a happy ending.
summary: The Hanahaki Disease is an illness born from one-sided love, where the patient throws up and coughs of flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. The infection can be removed through surgery, but the feelings disappear along with the petals. It can be cured without side effects only when the feelings are returned.
Seokjin starts coughing up crimson-red rose petals.
pulling shapes just for your eyes : taekook, reality show au, rated E, really good (i cant be bothered to make a note lol), 110k words, a lot of sex.
summary: The number one rule when you're a producer on a show like Miss Right, Taehyung thinks, should be do not fall for the bachelor. It's such a shame Taehyung has never been good at following rules.
ringa linga : fluff, yoonmin, one-shot, best man au, rated G, 3k words, crack.
summary: Best man Yoongi needs to pick up the rings for his best friends' wedding. The problem? The clerk won't hand them over.
Enter lifesaver and fake-fiancé, Jimin.
note: light-hearted, really fun.
Heart of War : namjin, 173k words, royalty au, really frickin good, ongoing, rated M.
summary: For the protection of his people, Prince Seokjin has to marry his fiancé’s killer: the alpha king of the most ruthless and feared kingdom in all the lands with a reputation of being a cold blooded monster on the battlefield.
Worst of all, the omega prince doesn't even speak their language.
my heart flutters from the sugar high : taegi, I LOVE THIS FIC IT’S SO GOOOD, <cough> 5.9k words, rated M, canon compliant, crack, every so slighty tropey, just a teeennyy bit, fake dating au.
summary: Yoongi and Taehyung sneak around together, cheating on their diets. The group? They've drawn different conclusions.
Seeking Alpha : jikook, I love this author, 17k words, rated M, a/b/o fic, but not the wolfy (lol) kind, i guess you could say ‘in a modern setting’, cracky.
summary: It was meant to be a “fuck you” to the dating world as Jimin knew it. He was done with dating, fed up with alphas, so he put a message out to the world to say so. How could he have guessed the sweetest alpha ever would respond to it just to prove him wrong?
The Jeon Pack : jikook, a/b/o dynamics, THE BEST abo fic you’ll ever read, 70k words, rated E, the wolfy kind (heh)
summary: Jungkook's pack had survived centuries in the cold unforgiving forest. They followed strict traditions and laws to ensure their survival against nature and rival packs. Soon the responsibility of leading the pack would fall on his shoulders but before assuming the position of head alpha, he needed to choose an omega mate.
The problem was that Jungkook was in love with an omega that hated his guts.
浮世 U K I Y O : yoonmin, i’m pretty sure you’ve read house of cards and songbird and the sea??, this one goes in the same category, a breed of those two classics, Mafia au, rated E, almost complete, 366.9k words, oh and btw if you haven’t the above two ill link them right below.
summary: “Is that what they say about me? I'm stuff of nightmares?” “You own a city and you painted it with your colors,” Jimin says, his voice is quiet and his scent subdued. “Why wouldn't people have nightmares about you? You are scary.” “Are you scared of me?”Yoongi owns a city that he painted red until a man that doesn't seem to truly exist steals something from him. And all the strings lead to Jimin, a succubus who works in one of his brothels.
House of Cards : the LEGENDARY fic, vminkook, gets you right in the feels, dont waste your time here go read it, 394k words, rated E, mafia au.
summary: Jungkook is the heir to a mob empire, the most notorious in the whole of Seoul. Taehyung is a rookie sent in to infiltrate by his select team and bring the empire crumbling down."You knew the game and played it, it kills to know that you have been defeated."
The Songbird and the Sea : AGGHHHH, THIS IS THE BEST FIC EVERRR, made me love pirates, yoonmin, just read it, 255k words, pirate au, rated M.
summary: (wayy too long, go read it!!!)
time slip : jikook, rated T, alternate canon, 29k words, time-related fic
summary: Jimin wakes up in the year 2017, which is very strange, considering the fact that last he checked it was 2013.
note: a great canon fic
A Glass of Water : jikook, but namjoon pov, a fresh fic (others aint rotten mind you), 8k words, rated T, college au.
summary: Namjoon is maybe a little over protective of Jimin and takes it upon himself to find out the identity of his new boyfriend. The others are absolutely no help.
Or, Jungkook and Jimin are dating and everyone knows except Namjoon.
You Broke My Heart (but I broke it myself) : jikook (haven’t you gotten fed up yet XD), anggstty, 19k words, rated M, alternate au.
summary: Jimin's fiancé has abandoned him on his wedding day, and Jeon Jungkook, Jimin's first love and worst heartbreak, is back.
You Don't Bring Me Flour : short jikook, fluff and crack, college au, rated G.
summary: In order to graduate, Park Jimin must convince cute grocery cashier Jeon Jungkook that this sack of flour is his beloved child.
Shooting Stars and Silver Moons : vmin, rated E, 20k words, fake-dating jikook, college au, bff fic.
summary: Yoongi and Jimin make a bet, Taehyung makes bad decisions.
(Or: "I'm kind of pissed you didn't choose me to fake date, I'm your best friend")
blindside : namhope, namseok, blind date au, rated T, i love this fic so much, 12k words.
summary: Hoseok finally somewhat has a date. A blind date, but a date nonetheless.
The Shaman and the Exorcist : namjin, spiritual au, ghost au, but not the scary kind, college au, cracky, rated M, 145k words, apparently i visited this fic 21 TIMES (gasspp), i LOOVEE this too
summary: (too long)
in your eyes (it's where i wanna be) : yoonmin, tooth rotting fluff, rated T, 5k words, college au.
summary: Jimin pauses with his marker inches away from the cup, because — is he really going to do this? Isn’t it a bit old-fashioned to write something flirty on a coffee cup? But no matter what his churning gut says about danger and what the hell are you doing do you want to die, this guy is — with no better way to put it — totally Jimin’s Type with a capital T.
(Or: Jimin accidentally starts a nickname war with the cute blonde who likes his coffee way too bitter.)
i'll stick to you like glue-cose : jikook, rated T, 7k words, enemies-to-lovers kinda, really good.
summary: Jimin merely wanted to study in peace, yet a certain five-foot ten frat boy - unfortunately also a past hook up - that epitomizes the very definition of smugness in one entire body whose ego is as big and full-scaled as the national debt, won't let him.
you're only brave in the moonlight : smuutt, bff au, vmin, college au, rated E, 14k words.
summary: There are reasons, very specific reasons that justify why—in three years of being hopelessly pathetically in love with his best friend—Jimin has not said a single word. Certainly hasn’t made a single move or attempt at a pass.But when it comes down to it, three years is a long time. A very long time.So when Jimin’s dam breaks, it breaks hard.(Or, Jimin asks Taehyung for help with taking photographs.)
(it's a paradise) it's a war zone : jikook, vacation au, really cute, enemies to lovers, rated T, 7k words.
summary: murphy's law states that "anything that can go wrong will go wrong." jimin could maybe make peace with that if it didn't mean sharing a room and a bed with jeon jeongguk, the thorn in his side, for the entirety of his vacation.
once upon a timeshare : jikook, ex fic, rom com style, cute AF, 32k words, rated E.
summary: Jungkook is in desperate need of a vacation, but spending two weeks in Namjoon and Hoseok’s timeshare in Okinawa with his recently separated ex of three years was probably (definitely) not what he had in mind.
Tie Me Down : taegi, lovvveee this fic, really fun, has drama elements to it, rated M, college au, 24k words.
summary: “I’ve just woken up with a fucking splitting headache, to find myself fucking taped to an office chair in a fucking living room that smells like unwashed socks and takeaway food. How am I? How do you think I fucking am?” “Wow. That’s a lot of f-bombs you’re dropping. Did anyone tell you that you need a healthy dose of positivity?”
In which Yoongi’s life is a parody of Taken and Taehyung is just trying his goddamn hardest not to get arrested.
a sugar coated pill and a pick me up : soccer dad fic!!! namjin, kids taekook, rated T, really good, rated T, 25k words.
summary (only a part): namjin are soccer dads who fall in luv
shōnen-ai love you : one of the most fun and cute (read: fluff) fics, vmin, rated T, manga fic, high school fic, 4k words.
summary: "What if I woo him with what he likes?" Jungkook frowns. "Knowing you, it's going to be a disaster." "I'm in pursuit of Park Jimin," Taehyung tells them dramatically, just as the bell rings and the teacher starts writing the first question on the board. "I'll do anything."
Doing anything means, apparently, studying BL manga.
My Cup of Tea : cute and short, minjoon, 6k words, high school fic, milk tea (lol) fic.
summary: One of Taehyung's many admirers tries to woo him by bringing him milk tea every day but Taehyung is lactose intolerant so it's always Jimin who drinks it.
From a distance away, the admirer watches.
Pastel : POLLYY, not really my cup of tea but i wanted to explore you know, jungkook/everyone, i liked it kinda, bdsm, baby kook, daddy kink, rated E, 188k words, bottom jk.
summary: Jeongguk learns the age-old lesson that you can't run from who you are, or who you like, for that matter.
There are a LOT of fics left, I’ll slow update.
#bts fic#bts fic rec#bangtan fic rec#long fic#yoonjin#yoonjin fic#jikook#kookmin#jikook fic#sin#vmin#vmin fic#yoonmin#yoonmin fic#namjin#namjin fic#taegi#taegi fic#taekook#vkook#taekook fic#jihope#jihope fic#minjoon#minjoon fic#poly#jungkook/everyone#namseok#namseok fic#vminkook
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Blue Moon
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader
Word Count: 2,273
Summary: After a rough breakup you head back to the one place that'll help you drown your impending sorrows: Josie's.
Warnings: beer and whiskey are a thing here! Matt Murdock is a life ruiner with his charm! Stop him! Please!
A Note: Matthew Murdock said that I had to write this. And so I did. This is cross posted on my AO3 account, and based off of the small excerpt from Billie Holiday’s “Blue Moon”!
MASTERLIST ! FEEDBACK !
"...you saw me standing alone
Without a dream in my heart
Without a love of my own
Blue Moon, you know just what I was there for."
— "Blue Moon" by Billie Holiday
You walked into Josie’s with what little dignity you had left after your horrendous and very public break up at the hole in the wall restaurant just a few blocks over, hands deep in your denim jacket as you smiled small at Josie, already placing an Alexander Hamilton on the clean marble bar.
“Whiskey?”
“Neat please,” you said kindly, as the woman smiled sympathetically at you, taking the cash on the counter. Part of you knew you shouldn't have whiskey on a work night or in general, but hell you've earned it after your shit day.
You took a moment to look around, noticing how empty it was. A small group of four playing at the newly replaced pool table, a happy looking middle-aged couple playing darts, small groups scattered in seating.
It was pleasant. You took a moment to note that were two men on your right conversing happily, one nursing a beer while the other had a beer and whiskey glass of his own. They both seemed somewhat dressed up and that caught you by surprise. The people that come to Josie's are usually casually dressed and nowhere near looking like they've ditched some nice business party.
However, the guy in the black button up sure did make it work, even if you could only view him from behind.
“Thank you, Josie.” Almost the second the glass was placed in front of you, you took a sip or two and ignored the sting as you took a deep breath in.
“Rough night?” She questioned softly, knowing what exactly happened, most likely.
“I guess you could say that,” you responded with a bit of venom in your tone. “I shoulda listened to you when you told me about Cameron.”
“Oh, he caused this?” Josie’s tone shifted into a motherly one as her arms crossed over her chest. You took another sip followed by a nod.
“Took me to that small Thai place a few blocks away and practically staged a play where our break up was the main plot line.”
You heard the men next to you laugh at one of their own jokes as you smiled painfully, swirling your glass around as Josie clicked her tongue.
“The second that prick walks through the door I’m giving him a piece of my mind,” she insisted.
“He’s not worth the time, Josie. Good news though,” you started, placing the glass on a coaster. “He’s never liked Hell’s Kitchen anyways. Always said it wasn’t safe due to that Daredevil guy or whatever. So, no piece of mind needs to be wasted.”
“Now that’s just horseshit! The kitchen's better with 'im in it.” Josie said sternly before letting one of her hands grab your free one near your glass. “He wasn't worth any of your time.”
You started to smile sadly now as you looked up at Josie. “Thank you. Now go tend to the other people and stop tryin’ to make me cry.”
The two of you laughed before Josie was off and walking down the length of the bar, starting to strike up conversation with other patrons while you just stared at the amber liquid in your glass, moving a hand to start swirling it around.
At least you can drown in your sorrow in peace now without feeling pathetic.
You swore that you could feel your phone going off in your jacket’s pocket, and you’re not sure why. But you were electing to ignore it and imagine it was your body buzzing from the whiskey you were drinking as you took another sip, almost draining the rest of what was in the glass.
Your eyes found the bottom of your glass through the small amount of alcohol again just as a voice came from your right.
“You can’t drown in the whiskey, y’know.”
“I can sure as hell try,” you started, turning your head to see the man next to you, suddenly taking in his features.
He wore 5 o’clock shadow well along with the fluffy looking hair he had, red circular sunglasses hiding his eyes from your own, and a few buttons of his shirt were undone and showed a small amount of chest hair. You were definitely right earlier. He did make it work in his favor.
Something in your mind made you think he could be danger with a handsome face.
"If you're really wanting to try then," the man started, shifting in his seat to face you completely now, his legs spread slightly as if you were going to slot right in-between them. Oh, would you love to, your mind echoed. "Try the Halál Angola, you'll be all set after a few sips."
You snorted and turned to face the man with your body now, your spread knees knocking gently against his. Your eyes were still locked on his sunglasses.
"Halál Angola? Is.. Is that Hungarian?" You questioned, clasping your hands loosely in your lap. The man let out a light chuckle, his head tilting up a bit as his gaze moved to look over at your left.
"Maybe. If it is, I think I might've butchered the name." He smiled. It felt like the wind was knocked out of your chest before he leaned an arm on the counter, reaching for his glass of whiskey. "Matt Murdock."
You grabbed your near empty glass from your coaster and rose your glass slightly like you were having a toast, "Y/N L/N."
Matt caught on to what you were doing and smoothly clinking his glass with yours before you knocked back what little liquid was left in your glass.
"So, Matt," you started just as you placed your glass down on the coaster, Josie wandering back to your side of the bar. "Why the glasses in a bar?"
He tried not to laugh as he swallowed the mouthful of whiskey he had before you received a small shrug. "'Cause I can."
"Alright then, Corey Hart, I can't masquerade with a guy in shades," you joked, smiling with yourself due to your reference to the song. You nodded to Josie as she reached for the whiskey glass you were drinking out of for her to give you another round.
"Oh no," Matt quipped, his voice echoing in his glass before taking another sip. You huffed out a laugh.
You thanked Josie as she topped you off, starting to lean against the counter.
"So, Y/N," Matt started just like you had a moment ago, clearing his throat slightly as his glass found its home on the coaster. "Why are you wanting to drown in whiskey on a night like this?"
You scoffed and sat up straight again while ignoring your heart beating a little faster from the way your name came from his lips, already reaching for your drink as you turned your body back to the bar.
"Long story. We'll be here all night if you get me rambling long enough."
"I've got the time."
You turned your head to look at him, your eyes narrowing slightly as he had a hint of a friendly smile on his face, his hands already resting on the tops of his thighs as he leaned against the back of the bar stool. You noted how his friend had seemed to have left him now, the beer he was drinking was gone, along with his coat that once draped over the back of the chair.
Heaving a sigh, you took a gulp of your second glass, half of the liquid gone before speaking. "Ex-boyfriend put on a show in the Thai place down the block that got him thrown out."
That answer was half true. After Cameron's outburst, it was clear to you he really only cared about himself and was overall a douche who was mad that you wouldn't give him head or anything like that in the end. Even if you'd been dating for a long period of time, you never felt comfortable enough to be intimate with him.
Now it definitely made sense why you weren't.
It did look like a long time coming for you two after you thought about how he treated you when you were together, and your heart seemed to clench at the fact that you're single again.
There was a long sigh that came from you, the tears starting to gather along your waterline as you shut your eyes tightly. You will NOT cry here. Not in front of this Matt guy, not in front of Josie, or ANYONE ELSE in this bar. You will NOT—
"Hey, you're okay," Matt gently reassured as you felt his hand fall onto your denim covered shoulder. Part of you wanted to shake off the hand. Like, really really bad and just walk out into the cold New York night.
But the buzzed part of you could feel the heat of his hand through your jacket, and you couldn't bring yourself to shake it off. Even if you've just met the guy, it felt comforting.
The heels of your hands gently pressed against your closed eyes to try and get them to stop watering with your tears as you took slow breaths, feeling Matt's hand move to rub your back now. You couldn't help but be thankful in this moment that you already had taken your makeup off at the restaurant.
It took you a bit to recover and get your emotions back to normal like they were when you first walked into Josie's. You personally blamed the whiskey, this usually happened after you've had a glass or two. This is why you steered away from most strong alcohols that you could handle, since your barriers you've made crash and cause things to happen much against your will.
Yet, Matt sat with you, still rubbing your back like a champ while you just got your shit together.
It made you feel even worse.
"I'm sorry," you said suddenly, taking in a ragged breath as your hands finally came back from your eyes to start gently tugging at your denim sleeves. "Like, really sorry. I know how awkward this probably feels for you right now and—"
"You're perfectly fine," Matt said almost sternly, his hand stilling on your back.
"We literally just met, I don't see how it's fine."
"Y/N." Matt's hand went from your back to gently grip your chin so you'd turn your head to look at him. There are those stupid sunglasses again. "It is fine. If I didn't want to try and help, I wouldn't be here, trust me."
You let out a huff and rolled your eyes, ignoring the feeling of his calloused hand under your chin still. "Your friends must think you're a saint of some kind with that attitude, huh?"
Matt snorted and let his hand fall back into his lap as his head ducked down as a small chuckle slipped out.
"I guess you could say that."
Sniffling, you gently ran your hands over your damp eyes one last time before reaching for your whiskey glass.
"Well," you started, your voice coming out a lot more choked up than before, "thank you. I really appreciate it. For someone who just met me, you're showing a lot of kindness that I don't really deserve."
Matt pulled a face as he looked back over one of your shoulders again. Why does he do that?
"We may have just met, Y/N, but I can already tell you're not a bad person."
You rose a brow. "This sounds like you're trying to tell me that you've got superpowers of some kind."
"No, I'm just a Catholic with a soft spot," Matt quipped as he started to slide off of the stool, grabbing his jacket in the process. You let out a soft laugh as you sipped at the whiskey in your glass again, your heart beating a little faster.
"Then wow am I thankful for you, Mr. Catholic With A Soft Spot. Maybe you should get that on a card."
Matt laughed as a smirk started to settle on his face while he swiftly pulled on his jacket.
You tried to hide your disappointment of him getting ready to leave. You had to remind yourself that you've only just met the man tonight, forchristsake.
"I'll think about getting it onto one if I ever have the money for it."
"Then I better be the first to get a copy," you quipped, pointing in his general direction before knocking back what was left in your whiskey glass. Matt scoffed dramatically as his hands dug around for his wallet in his pockets.
"But of course! I can't let down a potential client." Matt placed down some cash for what you could only assume was his beer before shoving his wallet back in his pocket as he kept a small smirk on his face. "I'll see you around then, Y/N?"
You turned to face him in your stool, noticing just how tall he actually was.
Jesus Christ.
You took a deep breath in before nodding probably a little too fast in response. "Y-Yeah, see you around, Matt."
Matt gave you one last smile before sidestepping to navigate his way to the door after waving to a few people and Josie.
It took you a brief moment to regain the breath you didn't know you were holding before letting out a huff.
You guess you'll have to start coming to Josie's more often then.
#matt murdock#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock imagine#daredevil#daredevil x reader#daredevil imagine#marvel imagine#marvel fanfiction#marvel writer#rachael writes
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The Best Bread in Vesuvia
A little ditty about everyone’s favorite baker. E for everyone.
The following is an excerpt, full story beneath the cut.
A young man steps out of the kitchen, wiping his dark hands on his apron. His head is shaved and his shoulders are broad. There’s flour smudged on his cheek, just below one of his dark, almond-shaped eyes. “Hello,” he says with a broad smile, flashing white teeth. He offers you his hand.
You accept the hand and shake it, smiling back at him. Stars above, he’s cute. “Nice to meet you,” you say.
Today is a day like any other on the busy streets of Vesuvia. It’s early spring. The sun is shining and the weather’s fair. You’ve made especially good sales at the shop so far today, so you decided to treat yourself to some pumpkin bread for lunch. You’re so familiar with the walk to the bakery, you could do it with your eyes closed.
You smell the bakery before you see it. It wafts, spicy and sweet, through the double doors. This smell is a little different than usual. It’s fruitier.
“Good morning,” says the man behind the counter. It’s Arman, the same old man who’s worked behind the counter as long as you can remember.
“Arman, it’s past noon,” you say, a laugh on your voice.
Arman glances at the clock behind him. “So it is! What can I get you today? The usual?”
You sniff the air again. “Say, it smells different today.”
“I hired a new baker, he’s testing out some recipes,” Arman replies. “Selasi, come out here and meet my favorite customer!”
“Be right out!” comes the answer. The voice is rich and clear; the sort of voice that makes you curious to meet the owner.
A young man steps out of the kitchen, wiping his dark hands on his apron. His head is shaved and his shoulders are broad. There’s flour smudged on his cheek, just below one of his dark, almond-shaped eyes. “Hello,” he says with a broad smile, flashing white teeth. He offers you his hand.
You accept the hand and shake it, smiling back at him. Stars above, he’s cute. “Nice to meet you,” you say.
You hold each other’s hand for just a moment longer than normal. Kindness is written in every detail of his face. Arman clears and throat and you release his hand, feeling yourself blush.
“This is Selasi, my apprentice,” Arman says. “Selasi, this is the best magician in Vesuvia.”
“Oh, don’t tease,” you say, blush intensifying.
Arman tells Selasi your name and the new baker repeats it, saying each syllable slowly. You were never too crazy about your name, but it sounds poetic when he says it.
Arman looks between you and Selasi, still watching each other with interest. “Weren’t you going to buy something?” he asks you.
“R-right!” you stammer, still looking at Selasi.
Selasi raises his eyebrow. “Well? What do you want?” Arman asks.
“Um.” You look at Arman, feeling the strangest sense of confusion. Your mind is swimming. You can’t seem to remember anything that Arman sells.
“Selasi,” you finally think you say, “what do you reccomend?”
He blinks at the question, like he’s surprised you would ask him. “I just made a rosemary and olive oil loaf,” he says. “If you like that sort of thing.”
You have a feeling that it’ll be good. “I’ll take it!”
Selasi disappears into the kitchen while you pay Arman. He returns with a loaf wrapped in paper and passes it to you. His hands brush yours. Your eyes meet. He smiles. You look down, embarrassed.
Selasi watches as you unwrap the loaf. You suspect he’s not the most experienced, and keen to know what you think.
The bread has a rough, dark-brown crust, smattered with toasted rosemary leaves. The rich, fragrant smell makes your mouth water. You tear off a piece and find that the crust is tough, but it inside is fluffy and soft. The white is still steaming. You take a bite.
It’s chewy and warm. The flavor is piney, floral and earthy. You feel like you’re indoors on a chilly autumn day, the windows coated in dew.
“It’s amazing,” you say.
There’s that big, beautiful smile. The sun is shining from Selasi’s face. It’s so hard not to stare.
Arman clears his throat again. “Don’t you have a shop to run?” he asks.
“Oh! Yeah. I’ll get going.”
“I hope to see you soon,” says Selasi. You hope he means it.
After that day, you start dropping by the bakery more often. Selasi always has something new and delicious for you to try. Sometimes he makes a sweet cake or pastry. He even tries bagels once or twice. Arman likes to tease you.
“What a surprise, it’s the magician,” he might say.
Or, “my goodness, I wonder what brought you in today?”
Or if Selasi wasn’t in, “Lover boy isn’t around, but we’ve still got bread.”
One day you and Selasi are chatting. He leans through the kitchen window to look at you, resting his cheek on his hand, elbow on the frame. He has a soft look in his eyes are you chat about your day.
“Tell me, is it really the bread you keep coming back for?” he asks.
The question catches you off-guard. You feel your face heating up. “Well, it is good bread.”
He sighs. “So it’s just the bread?”
You look at the ground, then back up at him. “And the company.”
Selasi smiles against his hand. He’s so handsome, you could lay down and die.
“Well, the company likes you too. Here, I tried bagels again.” He steps away from the window.
“Oh boy,” you say. “Why do you keep trying bagels? They give you such a hard time.”
“I want to be the guy who can bake anything,” Selasi says as he reappears. “Even bagels. Here.”
He passes you a bagel and you take a tentative bite. It’s savory. You can taste garlic, onion, and basil. It’s his best one yet. You try another bite, this time surprised at the sharp sweetness of a dried tomato. He finally got the texture right; chewy, but not too dense.
Selasi must see what you’re thinking. “Better?”
You nod, mouth still full. It’s much better. The delight on his face make you want to melt.
“I don’t want to tell you how many batches I went through last night, trying to get the recipe down.”
“I bet Arman was pleased with all the wasted ingredients,” you say, still feeling a little high on your bagel.
“Oh, he wasn’t too happy.”
“Well it was worth it. This is really good.”
Some weeks later, it’s mid summer. The days are hot but you still stop by the bakery at least twice a week. Today, you wave hello to Arman and let yourself into the kitchen, where Selasi is just sliding a pan into the oven.
“Goooood morning,” you call.
Selasi smiles at you. It’s hot in the kitchen, and sweet is beaded on Selasi’s forehead. He’s rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing his thick, strong arms. The skin is glossy. He pulls a rag from his apron and wipes his face. “Sorry, it’s hot in here,” he says.
“You’re fine,” you say, your voice weak. Your heart is thumping in your chest at the sight of him.
“How’s it feel out there?”
“Not much cooler,” you reply, leaning against and empty counter. “I wish it was autumn already.”
“Is that your favorite?” Selasi asks as he rinses his hands with some water from a pump.
“Oh absolutely.”
The baker lifts a giant sack of flour like it’s nothing. He pours it onto scale, freehand. His muscles are taut. “Why’s that?” he asks.
“The weather is nice,” you say. “The rains come. The apples and pumpkins are ripe. Who doesn’t love the fall harvest?”
“That’s fair.” He puts up the flour and chooses some salt. “I never took you for a pumpkin lover.”
“No?”
“I wouldn’t think you’d like such a… plain vegetable.”
“It’s not plain if you dress it up right,” you say. “Arman’s wife used to make this pumpkin bread. It was absolutely to die for. It was sweet, with a lot of nuts.”
“He talks about her a lot,” Selasi says. “She must’ve been a great lady.”
“She was, and they loved each other to bits. Arman just adored her.”
“What a privilege, to love someone that much.” Arman chooses a huge bag of sugar and begins to pour. “I hope I find that, someday.”
“Me too,” you reply, watching him. He glances at you, smiles, and you look away. One of these days he’s going to notice how much time you spend looking at him, if he hasn’t already.
Selasi puts the sugar back then comes towards you. He reaches one arm above you, his broad chest inches from yours. His dark eyes meet yours and your heart stops.
“Sorry,” he whispers, looking away.
“Don’t be,” you say. This close, you can feel the warmth of his body.
He steps back, holding a container. He shakes it. “Cinnamon.”
“Right, of course,” you say, looking pointedly away. The room feels even hotter.
He turns to add the spice to the bowl and you make a panicked face at the ground. He’s so cute, it’s completely unfair.
The days get shorter and cooler. It’s time for the fall harvest and everyone in the city is doing their part to prepare for winter, but you’re stuck inside. You seem to have caught the flu. You get by alright running the shop most days, but you’re too exhausted to do anything else. Eventually, you’re forced to close up shop so you can get some rest.
You reopen after a few days, improved but still not at your best. Even though you’re feeling better, you’re kept busy. There’s a lot of work to catch up on. You make it to the market to buy so ingredients at some point, but your scarcely get through two vendors before you have to make your retreat.
One morning you force yourself out of bed. You decide to throw one something nice, hoping it’ll make you feel less gross. As you open up the shop, you wonder how Selasi is doing. Perhaps he noticed that you haven’t been by in a couple weeks, but it’s just as likely that he’s been too preoccupied with the fall harvest. You’re sure lots of people are turning to him and Arman for a convenient meal.
You’re practically asleep at the counter when the bell rings. “Welcome in,” you say, unfocused.
“No special welcome for a friend?” You recognize that voice.
You focus on the figure at the door. It’s Selasi, wearing a hat and carrying a basket. He has an old, brown cloak around his shoulders. The sight him is a relief, but then you feel the panic. You know that you look awful; every regular who stops in had told you so.
“Sorry, I’m a little out of it,” you say, straightening up. “What brings you by?”
“My favorite customer hasn’t been by in a while, I was starting to worry,” he says.
You’re touched. “I’ve been sick,” you say.
“I can tell. You look-”
“Rough, I know.”
“I was going to say tired,” he says. “You look nice today, though. Not just today. I mean…” he trails off with a smile.
“You’re sweet,” you say, feeling yourself blush.
Selasi rubs the back of his neck. “Are you sure you should be up?”
You shrug. “I’ve already been closed for a few days. Someone has to keep business going.”
“I know how that is. I’ve had to work sick a few times.”
You raise an eyebrow. “You make food while sick?”
“Arman does the baking,” he says quickly. “But here, I brought you something.”
Intrigued, you watch him set the basket on the counter. When he opens the lid a beautiful, sweet smell hits your nose. He passes you a loaf of bread, wrapped in a purple cloth. He gives you an encouraging smile as you unwrap it and try a bite.
The loaf is dense and buttery, falling apart in your mouth. It’s topped with a crunchy brown sugar crust, and loaded with nuts. You can pick out flavors of cinnamon and pumpkin, rich and mildly sweet.
You close your eyes and moan.
“That good?”
You swallow and open your eyes. “You made pumpkin bread.”
“I remember you talking about it,” he says. “Since it’s the season, I asked Arman if he had his wife’s recipe. He was happy to share her memory.”
“This is amazing,” you say. “It tastes like my childhood, but better. The crust is you, right? It’s genius.”
He beams. You feel warm, and not just because of the bread. “I’ll keep it in stock from now on,” he says.
“I hope you do, this is the best bread in Vesuvia.”
“So, listen,” he says. “I wanted to ask you something.”
He’s fidgeting, nervous. You lower the bread and give him your attention.
“I hope it’s not presumptuous,” he goes on. “But if you wanted to go on a real date sometime-”
“Yes,” you say, so quickly he’s startled.
“Great!” he says. “I knew the bread was a good idea.”
“A fantastic bribe, if I do say so.”
Selasi takes the basket. You love that smile of his, how it makes his eyes twinkle like stars. It makes your heart ache.
“I have to get back to work, but stop buy when you’re feeling better,” he says. “We can get drinks.”
“I’d like that.”
Selasi leaves, the bell tinkling after him. You take another bite of the bread, closing your eyes to savor the taste. It really is the best bread in town, and not just because the baker is so cute.
#the arcana#selasi#the baker#baker the arcana#selasi the arcana#fanfic#fanworks#the apprentice#arcana apprentice#you perspective#second person
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Sting x Yukino Appreciation (Royal AU)
I couldn't miss this couple since they are the second main in my story. I decided to give them the spotlight because 1-I love them, 2-It fit the plot just perfectly and 3-They are, unfortunately, super underrated.
I have no idea why no one seems to care about this ship, but they're pure gold. After all, Yukino was one of the reasons why Sting decided to change and become a better person.
I'm certain that seeing her humiliated by their master put things into perspective for him and made him realize the error of his ways.
Besides, episode 202 (Welcome Home, Frosh) made it pretty clear that Sting has a crush on her and I bet she reciprocates it.
I imagine they would be super cute and funny together, thus I decided to include them in the Between Lies.
Get ready for some fluffy Stingyu moments that will hit you right in the feels!
WARNING: This contains MAJOR SPOILERS for the story. Also, there is mention of mature content in the excerpt from chapter 4.
Hope you enjoy!
Chapter 1: Masks (flashback)
"Yukino, I wanted to say..." Sting approached her after the battle against Tartaros, during which she'd almost been killed by Mard Geer if it hadn't been for Rogue's quick thinking. ***
She interrupted him. "I think I know." There was silence. "You do?"
"I wasn't sure, which is why I never told you how I felt. But after what happened yesterday, I saw the way you reacted and I think you feel the same."
"I do." Sting told her, suddenly looking guilty. "I'm sorry I waited so long, but I...I was scared you wouldn't want to be with me."
"Why?" Yukino looked confused.
"After what I did...The games..." She understood.
"You still blame yourself, don't you?" He looked away.
"I shouldn't have let Master Jiemma do that to you." She shook her head before sighing.
"It's in the past, Sting. I've moved on from it. I've forgiven you and Rogue a long time ago." For a moment, a smile appeared on his face, but then it was replaced by a frown.
"I know, but there's also yesterday." Sting's pained eyes stared at her. "You got hurt because of me, you almost died. I don't know if I can get over that."
"You can, you just have to let me help you." Yukino brought hand to his cheek. "We can heal our wounds together."
"I don't know if I deserve to be with you." It was clear he wanted to, but she guessed that after almost losing her, he must be filled with doubt.
"Of course you do." She immediately said. "You've changed so much, just as you promised. You deserve to be happy."
"You make me happy." Sting blushed, probably cursing himself for being so cheesy.
"I'm glad to hear that." Her hand was frozen on his cheek once they stared at each other for a few moments, lost in thought.
"I love you." Both said at the same time and their eyes widened before they burst into laughter.
"Look at that, perfect synchrony." Sting said while snaking his arms around her waist and bringing her close.
"I could get used to this." Yukino replied before they leant in for a long awaited kiss.
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Chapter 2: Revealed
Dressed in a light green dress and wearing a golden mask, Yukino was watching people dancing with a sad look upon her face when all of sudden there was a familiar voice. "What does a guy have to do to be noticed around here?"
"Sting?" She immediately turned to her right, finding her boyfriend wearing the same dark blue suit from the Grand Banquet and a mask of the same color.
"Hey, babe." He smirked. "I've been standing here trying to catch your attention for a while. Why are you so distracted?"
"What are you even doing here?" She was confused. "This party's only for…"
"Crocus' higher class, I know." Sting shrugged, smiling slyly. "Rufus knows people."
"You really shouldn't be here." Yukino shook her head, anxiously looking around the room.
"Seriously?" He frowned. "I thought you'd be happier to see me, considering it's been two weeks."
"I'm sorry. I am happy to see you." She gave him a small smile. "It's just…"
"What? What's going on, Yukino?" Truth be told, he had been freaking out ever since she'd sent that message stating she'd need to stay longer in the palace to complete her mission.
"I can't tell you." Yukino sighed.
"Don't you trust me?" Hurt crossed his face.
"Of course I do." She brought a hand to cup his cheek. "This is just…I can't."
Sting was about to press her more, but then she was leaning in and pressing her lips against his. He wrapped an arm around her waist and brought her close, kissing her eagerly.
Once they pulled apart, both breathless, he prepared to ask again. "I love you so much." Yukino said, catching him off guard.
"Then why are you keeping things from me?" She frowned.
"I'm sorry, but I really can't tell you about this mission." Sting sighed.
They always told each other everything, that's the whole reason why their relationship had worked out so well over the past few months. Thus he figured if she was withholding information now, it must be a life-or-death matter.
"Can you promise me that you won't do anything stupid?" He pleaded after contemplating for a few moments.
"Yes, I promise." Yukino smiled and he decided to let it go. For now.
"Okay. I trust you." Nodding slightly, Sting offered a smile. "Now, what do you say we show these nobles how it's really done?" He motioned towards the multiple people in the dance floor and she smiled.
"I'd love that." The celestial mage accepted his hand and they spent the next few hours dancing, chatting and making up for the past two weeks.
Their minds were taken off Yukino's current mission, both unaware that it would soon become much more dangerous.
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Chapter 4: Confidence
Juvia had just come from the Royal Gardens, where she usually spent her mornings. Being around nature always felt nice, specially after her rain was gone. Nothing was better than enjoying a walk near the beautiful flowers under the warm sun.
While at first she had done it alone, it wasn't long before Zeref suggested they walk together and thus he joined her sometimes. It was their moment to get to know each other and she didn't actually hate it because he treated her with the utmost respect.
She assumed it was because he believed her to be princess Juliet, someone who was unaware of his true identity. Therefore, he felt at ease and didn't hesitate to share intimate facts about himself.
Well, never too intimate, of course.
She hadn't gotten him to talk about his family yet, but she was sure in time he would. Hopefully she could discover why he had become the way he was.
Upon entering her chambers, Juvia heard a giggle and sighed. Every morning it was like this and it's not that she hated it, but sometimes it got on her nerves.
"I don't think she'll come back for another hour, so…" Another giggle and then the sound of kissing. Yep, she wasn't going to stay there for long.
Long minutes passed as she quickly changed into a lilac gown and grabbed a book that Zeref had lent her. "Wait, I think I heard her." Everything silenced and Juvia sighed.
"Don't worry, I'm going now." She told the couple on the room next door.
"Oh, god." Yukino whispered, embarrassment clear on her tone.
"Sorry, we were just…" Juvia failed to understand why Sting had chosen to open the door, revealing his shirtless figure.
"No need to explain." It was pretty clear what they had been doing, she thought, while glancing at Yukino, who was lying on the bed while covering herself with the sheets. "Have fun, lovebirds." The water mage smiled before turning around and leaving the room.
Even though she was happy for the couple, it was hard seeing them together since it only reminded her of Gray. If living with the constant guilt of being engaged to another man wasn't enough, she was also haunted by images of what could've been.
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Chapter 6: Changing
"You just gotta stop thinking about him too." Sting said.
"That's easier said than done." Juvia replied, frustrated.
"Don't I know that." It was Yukino's turn to sigh, and her boyfriend smirked.
"Are you referring to the time you couldn't stop thinking about me?" He asked, moving his chair closer to hers.
"Don't act so cocky." She replied, before smirking too. "I remember when Rogue told me about how obsessed you were."
"I wasn't obsessed." He protested, crossing his arms.
"Sure you weren't." Juvia smirked at him.
"Two against one. No fair." The girls laughed when he pouted.
#fanfic#royal au#stingyu#appreciation#moments#fluff#romance#sting eucliffe#yukino aguria#otp#cuties#couple goals#love them together#fairy tail#final season#avatar arc#also included#juvia lockser#my queen#stingyu shipper
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My sis and I are through with the actual main plot of KH3, so I can officially go back to scheduled ToZ fangirling now. …Well, I promised Cray a bit of fix-it-fanart, so after that, I guess.
Hit the cut for a resume. It got super long and has endgame story spoilers, so you might not want to stumble upon it by accident.
Another extra big shoutout (again!) to @crazayrock for bearing my liveblogging on Discord, screaming without context and occasional spoilers. And linking me fluffy Soriku doujinshi. Here, have my favourite, spoiler-heavy excerpt of our conversation:
Okay anyway, let’s get started: GAMEPLAY
Kingdom Hearts 3 is BEAUTIFUL. The gameplay is so smooth and intuitive that you can immediately get to playing like you’d never done anything else; in fact so smooth that I doubt I will ever be able to pick up the first game ever again. It’s always been fun, but the looooooong years’ gap actually did wonders to the gameplay.
The keyblade form changes are fun and keep things fresh, you can do flashy triangle button shit every other minute, and shotlock is still insanely useful without being a game-breaker.
It seems easier than the first two main games, though?
The gummi ship is still a pain in the ass to steer, but I do enjoy the open world-like travel options (even if there’s not… much to discover except heartless lasering the shit out of you). I’m also eternally grateful that they kept the gummi ship thing from KH2 where you can just use a new gummi ship once you got the blueprint and don’t buy actual fucking legos as in the first game.
Thank you, Square. Not thanking you for the dumb cherry flan game, though.
The Caribbean being basically an open world stage was delightful! Apparently what our resident island kid needs is a big ship and tropical islands to plunder.
VISUALS AND STUFF
PRETTY LIGHTS EVERYWHERE
The long gap between the games also did wonders to the visuals.
There’s finally, FINALLY a few towns with actual NPCs you can talk to. Why it took the team so many years and the Gods know how many games is beyond me. The magic effects are beautiful, the animations smooth (honestly you can hardly tell apart cutscenes and fully rendered CGI scenes in this day and age of the PS4. I’m probably the only person still amazed by this because the only games I played on PS4 before were a few hours of Child of Light and of course Tales of Zestiria and Berseria. No, I still haven’t played FFXV but that’s a topic for another day). How far videogames have come.Even space finally looks like space, lol. Not really high-end what the PS4 can do I assume but god, it’s such an amazing and much needed upgrade from the terrible textureless colourful tubes you flew through before.
No excuse for the terrible battleship thingy before the Keyblade Graveyard, though. I got lost and beaten up so many times and crashed against more walls than I can count.
Nothing beats the World that Never Was, but the Keyblade Graveyard also has creepy cool potential, as does the beautiful but ghosted City in the Sky.
Still not getting what’s with JRPGs and very Definitely Final Dungeons (TM) that are basically space. …………or heaven. Or nothing. I’m getting the bad kind of original NGE TV series ending vibes. But. Okay.
The soundtrack is splendid
.……I miss Traverse Town and Radiant Garden, however.
Which brings us to:
THE WORLDS
I guess I can live with no more Final Fantasy characters being there (although I always loved that), and the meta jokes in Toy Story world really got me. Seeing Disney characters calling the KH villains call out on their shit was delightful. …the KH characters lampshading their own games’ sloppy dialogue writing was delightful.Still, those Disney worlds are always so much more in my head than what I actually get to play. This has been bugging me ever since the first game and it still does. I do not expect or want to replay the entire movies, but would it hurt to give the cutscenes some goddamn background music? Whenever there’s cutscenes, either the world’s usual BGM keeps playing or the music stops altogether. Together with the shortened dialogues and generally drastically shortened plots with odd cuts, that leads to scenes that are awkward at best. They never even remotely have the impact the movies had. You just sit there and think “oh wow that is so silly and awkward”.
Dancing scene in Corona? My favorite scene in Tangled. Zero impact on me without the lovely BGM (at least they made it a minigame so the moment isn’t over after 3 secs). Just for example. You can ask me like, world by world, but I can think of only exception off the top of my head and it’s not helping:
Let it Go of course. Listen guys, I actually love the song. But it’s so overused (and Frozen is an overrated movie at best that doesn’t deserve its hype in the slightest) that I can’t even really enjoy it being there. Like.
IF THAT’S OKAY WITH YOU,WHY DIDN’T YOU INCLUDE LITERALLY ANY OTHER ORIGINAL SONG FROM THE ORIGINAL MOVIES. Instead of BGM just not being there entirely, or in odd, cringey re-renderings that nobody wants to listen to (*cough* Atlantica *cough*).
Why torture me and not give me the one good scene from At World’s End (the up is down scene) when you had the chance?Kingdom Hearts is also prone to super lazy level design and wasting chances at wonderful scenery for no apparent reason other than I suppose empty cliffsides are quick to render. All games before did that, and KH3 is, sadly, no exception. We get to see a bit of Corona and Athens and they finally have NPCs, too, but you cannot even get near Arendelle. You cannot enter Elsa’s palace. You spend the entire time there climbing around in the snowy mountains of Norway, and unfortunately it looks less interesting than one would expect from the lovely concept art that the film unfortunately never used.You cannot enter Rapunzel’s tower although Sora can apparently parkour his way up even without her help.
………In short, the places you can go are, again, very limited, and a lot of interesting places and scenes you never get to see.
And to follow the plot you still only need the stuff that does NOT happen in those Disney worlds because they’re all beach filler episodes. It’s always been like that, but I keep wondering whether I’m the only one bothered by that. I’m also still salty they didn’t introduce a single new world from a 2D animated movie.
Also, as I said, I miss Traverse Town, it felt so warm and welcoming and beautiful.
And I get behind The World that Never Was missing although I loved it there, but why not give us back Radiant Garden? Destiny Islands since they’ve been restored? Disney Castle?
As much as I love the series, it never fucking lives up to its own potential. Idk whether it’s made more difficult by copyright issues or whatever, I just know that it bugs me.The first two games also had like twice as many worlds.
PLOT
I mean it’s never been deep; however, it’s complicated. No analysis or whatever from me because plot analysis and meta writing bore me like seven hells, just my emotional reaction: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
Okay, bad news. I got into it expecting nothing, and still got disappointed. I don’t actually enjoy the prospect of writing essays about it, but here’s my tea with it; in not particular order:
1) the pacing is terrible. Nothing happens for like 30 hours and then suddenly like 20 characters’ arcs are (naturally poorly) resolved within the last few hours of cutscenes. Build up anyone? At least they actually did pick up Maleficent and the box thing again. …In the epilogue.
2) Speaking of build ups, Sora’s breakdown could have been developed nicely and steadily over the game to feel natural, and instead it’s hinted at in the beginning by everyone picking on him, but then it’s never further developed and comes out of fucking nowhere. Like. For real? It felt terribly OOC.
3) Why on earth have they shown 90% of the plot in the trailers already, and why are those scenes so massively disappointing in context
4) Kairi. Oh god, Kairi. What are we gonna do with you. I want to love her, I really do, but she’s a prime example of shittily written female leads. Mostly because she’s not leading. It’s not her fault. She’s just a fictional character. But honest to God, Nomura, why. Her screen time is almost nonexistent, and she’s entirely use- and helpless whenever she’s on screen (which isn’t often). Her ONLY point in the plot is being rescued because she is fucking useless. Why. Just why. Why waste her character like that. All we know is that she’s shoehorned into being the token love interest, but she has zero plot relevance and there is even less build up of her relationship with Sora. It’s all tell and NEVER show; and not even much telling, either. She has literally zero direct interaction with in the entire game before they share their paopu. The question remains: why are straights like this
5) On a related note: look, I don’t even ask for (or expect, or even hope) my ship to be canon. Squeenix doesn’t exactly have a rich history in queer representation. I’m totally fine with Sora and Riku being best friends. BUT. Building up Sora as the most important person in Riku’s life (and arguably, vice versa) over the course of several games, just to then hardly have them interact in the finale and then SUDDENLY bring back Kairi into the equation, who hasn’t interacted with him since the ending of KH2 (except for one unsent(?) letter) is just piss poor writing, period.I actually love Cray’s suggestion she gave me over Discord: let Sora, Kairi and Riku all share a paopu together (and let them group hug, too, you cowards). It would have been the perfect message to send (Sora as truly all-loving hero, and loving all your friends equally; romantic love isn’t more important than platonic love and doesn’t need to be singled out). Really sad that this isn’t what happens. Apparently that wouldn’t have been no homo enough.
LET THE DESTINY TRIO GROUP HUG YOU COWARDS
Do Riku and Kairi even interact once in the whole game?
HOW IS THIS A TRIO, IT’S JUST A SHITTILY WRITTEN LOVE TRIANGLE
6) Time travelling is a bitch, Christ. It doesn’t solve plotholes or can be played for drama, it just adds MORE plotholes. It just got WORSE. The cloning blues and people not aging doesn’t help, either.
7) Just so you know, I care absolutely zero for wild fan theories. You’re not Nomura. I want a statement from the man who wrote this shit himself why on bloody earth Sora dies when he apparently successfully found and brought back Kairi (and since nobody aged a day, apparently it didn’t even take that long lol). DUDES, THIS IS KINDA PART OF THE PLOT, AND YOU DON’T BOTHER TO EXPLAIN IT INGAME???? And how was Ienzo/Zexion able to revive Naminé while Kairi was still missing/dead/whatever…?
Okay so in short the writing is worse than ever and that’s saying something.
However, let’s try to find something good in this trainwreck; it wasn’t all bad. There’s some really nice scenes which sadly are better enjoyed without any context at all.
So, guess my favourite scenes.You had time enough, here’s the solution:
1) Purifying uhm er rescuing Aqua. Poor girl. She deserves the rest. Poor, poor Aqua. The only properly wirrten female in the whole damn franchise. Also the only person other than Riku who fucking gets shit done.
2) The Gayblade (TM)
3) Happy Axel in the reunion with his kids. Oh god, the poor chap deserves it so much. Thank you, Nomura. I don’t care that it makes pretty much no sense. Make him happy. Give him his friends back. Just give Axel all his friends and let him happily set things on fire. Hi I love Axel
4) The party at the beach cutscene before the credits roll. Axel and Xion get clothes. Half the organization is on our side now. I almost teared up at the Wayfinder trio saying goodbye to Eraqus’ forceghost. Hey come on he’s the voice of Luke Skywalker
5) Sully yeeting Vanitas
6) Woody calling out Xehanort that nobody loves him
7) Jack Sparrow bad breathing Luxord
I wish we had gotten:
1) justice for Kairi
2) a happy Zexion, the poor emo kid. Well maybe now he will be, with all the orga members who changed sides now, lol.
3) I will never trust mobile games ever again so I don’t want to play KHUX but I would have loved to learn about the Keyblade Wars :;))))
WHAT WAS THE KEYBLADE WAR ABOUT CAN WE SPEND MORE TIME IN THAT COOL CITY IN THE SKY WHAT’S THE DEAL WITH MIKLEO
I MEAN THAT EPHEMER KIDDO
WHAT’S WITH THE MASKED DUDES AND DUDETTES FROM THE MOVIE
WTF WHAT HAPPENED TO THEM AFTER THE MOVIE???? WHERE THOSE KEYBLADE USER NAMES ACTUAL MOBILE GAME PLAYER NAMES??? Next game? PLEASE?
I really, REALLY hope the epilogue means we will get Xiggy/Luxu as our new big bad and we learn more about the five dudes and dudettes from the movie. Please. PLEASE. I’m so up for it. Them finally pickung up the bit with Maleficent and the mysterious box again? Hell yeah.
The secret movie was really unexciting in comparison, although I laughed very hard at the “Verum Rex” scene in Toy Story world. Maybe that’s why it was much cheaper to unlock than in KH1 and KH2.
4) give Ven a drink
DLC ideas I would actually pay for because I’m a sad human being: 1) more Disney worlds 2) Japanese audio 3) at least one of the following as permanently playable characters: Riku, Kairi, Axel, Ven, Aqua. At least as a guest member as in KH2. THIS SUCH A BIG STEP BACKWARDS I’M FUMING
FINAL THOUGHTS
Kingdom Hearts 3 is a hella lot of fun, beautiful, and also moving when it sets its mind to it. Unfortunately it doesn’t always do so. I don’t feel like it wasn’t worth the wait; it was. However, I’m very salty how rotten the writing is. I do not mind logical fallacies, I do not mind the cheesiness and cringeyness; however, I do mind how so many interesting characters do not get the screentime they deserve, and Kairi is a very bad joke.
I’ll probably find more to nitpick about (Gods. Just. Don’t come up with dub excuses why Sora is lv 1 in each game. JUST LEAVE IT BE. You don’t explain why Donald and Goofy are lv 1 again, either. JUST. LEAVE. IT. BE. The sacrifice was dumb and not even moving, I’m just still furious that Kairi’s ONLY point in the plot is being so useless that it’s literally getting herself KILLED and she needs constant rescuing to the point that Sora has to sacrifice himself for her, effectively. Kairi deserves better, Sora deserves better, I deserve better than to think about this absurdity.…I’m just… gonna cherry-pick the good bits from the lore and try to pretend the finale didn’t exist, I guess. GODS.
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Book: A blackish red hue
I am offering a printed book version of my story “A blackish red hue“, rewritten and corrected, illustrated and properly set. I did this mostly for myself but some have said they wanted a copy so …
>>> GET YOUR COPY OVER ON ETSY! 😊
340 pages of Hannigram fanfiction, the Murder Husbands on the run, depicting their lives together after the fall.
An A4, hardcover book with 135 g paper, 47 illustrations and a foreword by my “partner in crime“ (over at @lovecrimebooks) Romina Nikolić.
This book has been made to match RADIANCE and, in extension, the upcoming RAVAGE. Yep, with COLOR CUT*. In blackish red.
Weighing: ~1,6kg
> Which means we are just below the threshold of the so called “book shipping“ weight (with packaging), making international shipping much cheaper. >> 17€, priority handling and tracked in most countries.
All tracked countries here: deutschepost.de/brief-international/land-fuer-land
>> Germany: 5€, internationally 17€ + (priority-which is with) tracking ~ 20€
*****
Content:
A Murder Husbands story, heavy on character development and (hopefully) story, spiced with sex (see rating below).
Not overly fluffy but with a happy ending. (Yep, despite what you might think in between.)
Murder Husbands as in Murder Husbands. With Murder Tableaus. And family. Murder Wives :)
This starts at the motel in TwotL, so there is original dialogue here, reinterpreting the scenes we were given. The story segues into pure fiction after the fall.
>> This story spans several years - it follows Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter after „The Fall“, the ups and downs of this obsessive and difficult relationship, trying to fit the monsters on their backs together. As well as their habits and appetites.
There are lots of turns and not everything is as it may seem at first.
This is my Season 4.
And 5 through 8.
Approximately. :)
This story has been posted and is available on Ao3. It has been, as mentioned before, corrected, some parts rewritten, polished up and properly set, enhanced and improved for this book :)
There are almost 50 artworks in it. Some were gifted to me, some I commissioned and some I created.
Illustrations in it by:
@JustCallMeLuci | Sara Larner saralarner.com | @dark-will-graham | @tindu | @amngell | @transylvanianshipper | @noaryr | @arkarti | @theseavoices | @Hachiseiko | @felidaefatigue | @hanniwill / / Rola | @basementarts | @Rocio_ruiz_art | @the-walking-fannibal | @bayobayo | @thenecronon | @wisesnail | @vibiana | @Moishpain / @sheep-in-clouds | @stravvbunnies | @miasmatik | @maddsaa | @toni-of-the-trees | @le-wendigogo | @Skeletology | @shoegazerx | @Aerinnnn | @ivyart | @mumbrielle | @granpappy-winchester | @caniday
(and some by me)
The beautiful cover was created by @granpappy-winchester (original post here!) and @basementarts.
>> Commission @Granpappy-Winchester here!!
>> Commission @basementarts here!!
Btw: I can only recommend commissioning them or any of the other artists!
Also: Basementarts is offering a discount right now so check them out!
*****
What some critics… erm commenters said:
On Baptism: „OH GOD!
i was just scowling tru Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter fic and saw your fic Salvation and read the summary and thought ‘well this looks good’ and i saw it was a part of a series and thought i might as well start at the beginning to see if its any good!!! i couldn’t even begin to fantom how brilliant and talented you are!!! im only just finished this first one! and i want more more more! and there is more!!! yay me!!! im just going to go and binge read it all!!! no sleep or socializing for me!!!!
thanks for shearing your talent and choosing to express it with Hanagram fics! i truly appreciated it, like im sure many many others do!!!“
Also on Baptism:
„Ahhhh, this is completely stunning!! So beautifully and elegantly done, it drew me in from the first chapter and refused to let go until the last. Just wonderful. Thank you so much for this gorgeous reading experience.
*Applauds*
Please don’t ever stop writing Nalyra :-)“
On Obfuscation:
„I’ve just binge-read this whole story. I absolutely loved it!! The balance of power between them is beautifully portrayed. I really enjoy the tenderness between them, and also the pure darkness. It feels like a completely natural progression from the show. I can’t wait to move on to the next installment!“
*****
Characters:
Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter, Alana Bloom, Margot Verger, Verger Baby (Hannibal), Freddie Lounds, Jack Crawford, Chiyoh, Will Graham‘s Father, Clarice Starling, Robertas Lecter, Bedelia Du Maurier, Ardelia Mapp, Matthew Brown, Original Graham-Lecter Children
*****
(some) Tags:
Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb | Canon-Typical Violence | Canon Compliant to Canon up until 2018 | Post-Canon to Canon up until 2018 | Original Character(s) | Original Character Death(s) | Explicit Language | Explicit Sexual | First Time | First Kiss | Murder Husbands | Murder Wives | Rough Sex | Angst | Fluff | Blood play | Dream Sex | Branding | Fanart | Honeymoon | Cannibalism | SotL-compliant | Canon Character Death
*****
Rating:
Mature, scratching on explicit, but toned down from Ao3 version. A bit.
*****
Excerpt:
From Baptism:
It takes an indistinct amount of time to get ‘back down to earth‘ as it were. Will is vaguely aware that there is a cramp in his legs, the fingers of his right hand hurt where Hannibal has gripped him too tightly, he is a mess, he hurts between his legs in places he cannot yet define properly and Hannibal - Hannibal is lying on top of him, making it hard to breathe, silently crying into Will’s neck. Will feels the best he can remember.
He carefully dislodges his left arm from Hannibal’s neck, dragging his fingers through the greying hair, petting. His legs drop and he winces, which seems to bring Hannibal back to himself. He raises his head, eyes bloodshot, his voice gravelly. “Will, I… I apologize.“
Will shakes his head slowly and places the fingers of his left hand against Hannibal’s lips. His gaze catches on the ring that Molly placed there and he realizes with a start that it has no place here in this bed. He feels more than sees Hannibal withdraw and quickly shakes his head again trying to placate and communicate his thoughts as clear as possible. “Take it off for me.“
Hannibal freezes above him. The look he levels at him does its best to make Will hard again but he really isn’t that young anymore. Will swallows. Hannibal slowly drags his right hand up at the side of Will‘s body, making him shiver. When he reaches his chest he follows his arm up until he reaches the hand that’s still raised between them. Slowly, very slowly Hannibal starts to push the ring off Will’s finger with his messy hand, never breaking his gaze. Hannibal encloses it in his hand when it’s off and carefully puts it on the nightstand at the other side of the bed. “What about it now?“
Hannibal’s voice is rough and Will knows that the answer he has isn’t what the question was about, but it is the only one he has to give. He tries to say it lightly, keeping his voice low. “Well, you took it from me. So, if we make this work, you’ll have to go and replace it.“
Something breaks in Hannibal’s gaze. There is light and darkness seeping into it in equal measure and it thrills Will to no end to see it. Hannibal’s voice is the roughest he has ever heard it, the accent strong. “I will not let you go, now.“
Will smiles. To everyone else, this would have been a threat. To Will, it’s the conclusion of a courtship that’s lasted six years. He’s been caught, and now he’s free. “Where do we go from here?“
Hannibal nuzzles into the Will’s neck, his words breathed onto sweaty skin. “How about we pay a visit to an old friend?“
*****
Final notes:
>> I don’t make money from this - the price on Etsy consists of the following amounts:
A4 hardcover print with color cut, heavy paper and bookend pages etc: 41€
Packaging: 2€
Etsy fees: 2€
+ Shipping
*IF this book sells 50 copies (in total**) I will be able to get some nice extras (ribbon bookmark, spot glosses at the very least).
** I’m going to order some for myself and a few artists, who preferred the book over monetary payment
Printing will commence after August 10th, 2018, with shipping following right after. Printed at same company that has printed Radiance and will print Ravage.
Books will be in foil and wrapped in bubble wrap and then in the actual packaging for shipment (aka lessons from Radiance. I’ll also check the weather forecast -.-).
IF there is something left when all is said and done I will donate it. Resumé will be posted here.
After August 10th 2018 I will close preorder.
This will be the only edition.
If there are some copies I need to get to reach the minimum to the next „step“ (with more extras) these will become available on Etsy afterwards.
There will NOT be a digital version for sale because I only negotiated with the artists for a printed version.
Soooo.... 🤗
Hope you like!!! 💕
#hannibal#hannigram#fanfiction#story#book#a blackish red hue#my story#my book#fannibals#fannibal family#hannibal lecter#will graham#alana bloom#margot verger#jack crawford#clarice starling#robertas lecter#steven graham#morgan verger#my season 4
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Heart Eyes and Leather Jackets (A CS Fic Excerpt)
It’s been a while since I’ve interacted with the CS/OUAT community, but I’ve been going through some old documents and found a few (or a lot) of CS fanfics that I was too afraid to post. So I thought I’d finally post part of one of my favorites and see what some of you CS shippers thought of it. Hope you like it! (Part 1/?)
...
Modern AU where Killian and Emma meet in High School. She’s an aspiring artist, and he’s more than willing to be her muse. Nice and fluffy as the story follows the characters growing up.
...
“You gonna do it today?”
Killian looked up from his plate of scrambled eggs and stared at his brother. Liam held an expectant expression, sipping on his coffee.
“Do what?” Killian asked, eyebrows raised.
“Ask that pretty blonde girl out,” Liam said just as Killian took another bite of his breakfast. He walked over and thumped him on the back as Killian choked on his eggs.
“What?!” he wheezed when he was finally able to breathe again. Liam chuckled and returned to his usual seat.
“As if I wouldn’t notice my little brother mooning over someone ever since we moved here,” Liam said. Killian muttered something about being his younger brother, not little. “Every time I visit the school, or we go out somewhere and she’s there, you always become flustered and mute. Don’t worry; it’s very cute.” Killian felt his cheeks warm at his brother’s teasing.
“I’m not- It’s not like that,” Killian stuttered, only proving his brother’s point. Liam grinned and took another sip of his coffee. “Emma…she uh. She doesn’t really date. Or at least, not that I’ve seen. And we’ve never really spoken before. Well that’s not true, we’ve exchanged pleasantries in the hallway. Plus, there was my first day but…” Killian stopped his rambling as Liam raised his eyebrows.
It had been six years since their father had died, leaving the two young brothers in the hands of the unforgiving foster care system. It had been four years since Liam had turned of age, officially standing as the legal guardian of Killian. Two years ago, Liam had decided that they both needed a fresh start and had moved to the Americas to do so. By that point, Killian had just turned fifteen and was ready to be a freshman in high school. And on his first day in an American school, he had met the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and had been on a slippery slope ever since then. Now he was on his second week of his junior year, and he had yet to even talk to her for more than a sentence before becoming too flustered to speak any more.
“Well, how about we get to changing that, eh?” Liam said, raising his mug in cheers. Killian looked intently at his breakfast, becoming nervous even at the thought of talking to her. Normally, Killian could be quite charismatic, some even saying he had a sort of swagger to him. But there was something about Emma Swan that just made him weak in the knees. As he picked up his satchel and began to head out, Killian thought that maybe, just maybe, he could change that this year.
He rode his motorcycle to school that day, knowing that Liam would have to work the late shift that night and couldn’t carpool. The motorcycle had belonged to their father, one of the few things the bastard had left his sons. When he pulled up, it reminded him of the first day he had arrived. Several people looked at him, pausing in their stride to whatever class, muttering something to their neighbors. Many girls stopped to stare and giggled with their friends, looking away shyly if he glanced over. A few people had accused him in the past of wanting to be the center of attention all the time, and Killian completely disagreed with that. He quite liked his privacy and didn’t care too much for people staring. But being a British kid in a small-town school in Maine who wore leather jackets, black eyeliner, and who occasionally rode his thunderous motorcycle to school wasn’t exactly inconspicuous.
Killian nodded to his fellow classmates as he passed them, pausing every once and a while to talk to a few of his friends. His eyes scanned the crowd of students, always searching for the beautiful blonde curls and magical green eyes.
“Hello? Earth to Killian! Are you there?”
Killian’s eyes snapped back to the petite blonde girl in front of him.
“Say again, darling?” he replied, and Tink rolled her eyes.
“Oh, I was just saying that Emma Swan and I were planning to have naked pillow fights later on and asked if you wanted to join. But since your mind is clearly elsewhere….” Tink trailed off, her eyes glittering. Killian glared at her.
“It’s not good form to tease a man that way, Bell,” he growled. She merely smirked at him before turning away to unlock her locker.
“So touchy. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you liked that girl,” she said, pausing for his comeback. As much as he hated to admit it though, he couldn’t come up with anything. Tink looked back at him with a triumphant grin. She was one of the few who knew of his crush.
“Oh shut it,” he muttered very maturely and she laughed. Shaking his head, he slammed her locker door shut, barely giving her enough time to remove her hand. She glared up at him. He began to talk before she could mouth off.
“Don’t you have a class to get to?” he asked, and she raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t you?” she retorted, and again, he couldn’t argue.
They separated quickly, her going off to gods know where (the girl was unpredictable, hardly ever making it to the right class) and him off to chemistry. He arrived barely on time, the teacher giving him a disapproving look as he strode in, cutting off whatever he had begun to say.
“Please, Mr. Jones. Do try to be more punctual,” Mr. Spencer remarked. Killian raised his brow and lifted his right arm, tapping the watch there and indicating that it was exactly eight o’clock. The teacher pursed his lips before continuing what he had been saying before the interruption. Killian settled into one of the last two seats available.
“As I was I saying, today will be your first lab. Your desk-mate will be your partner for the rest of the year, so I hope you have chosen wisely.” Killian glanced at the empty seat beside him and figured he did okay considering what he had to choose from.
“Please open your textbooks to page-” Mr. Spencer began, but was interrupted by the door being thrown open again. A blur of plaid and blonde hair rushed into the room.
“Ah, Ms. Swan. Nice of you to finally join us. I was wondering when our new transfer would show up,” Killian barely heard the teacher say, for at that moment his heart was beating too loud for him to properly hear. There, standing right before him, was none other than Emma Swan. A slightly out of breath and disheveled looking Emma Swan, but it was her all the same.
“Sorry, I was-” she began.
“Late. And it better not become a habit. I’m sure you and your partner will get along just fine, though, considering,” he said, gesturing to the seat next to Killian. Incredibly, his heart sped up even faster, and he momentarily wondered how long it could go like that before finally giving out. Emma pursed her lips and walked abruptly to his table, slamming into her seat and dropping her bag next to her. She tried to compose herself, smoothing back her hair and pushing her thick, black glasses back up her nose. Killian just continued to stare at her slightly in awe.
“-page 15. Do the problems there using the chart. Work due at the end of class. Begin.” Killian blinked, looking back at the teacher as everyone else began to move. The man had been talking without him even realizing it.
He rummaged through his backpack, bringing out his notebook, pen, and textbook. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Emma look through her bag, nearly turning it inside out, before sighing heavily. She spun towards him in her seat and he looked up at her in surprise.
“Do you have a pen I can borrow?” she asked forcefully. He nodded and silently handed her the pen. She paused for a moment, pursing her lips as she thought.
“And paper?” she asked, a little more hesitantly. He slid his paper towards her. She furrowed her brow and bit her lip. “And a textbook?” she asked almost sheepishly. With a raise of his eyebrow, he pushed the textbook towards her.
“Thanks,” she muttered, looking slightly embarrassed. He merely nodded before digging through his backpack for more supplies.
Their classmates began to talk to one another loudly as they worked through the problems, a symphony of turning pages filling the air every once and a while. Killian and Emma, however, worked silently, neither quite sure what to say to one another. Though they knew of each other and knew each other’s names, the two had never really spoken to one another except for brief greetings in the hallways. Killian was afraid that the butterflies in his stomach would make him choke on whatever he tried to utter to her. After so many ways of imagining how this moment would go, he was completely blank. They were halfway through the third problem when Emma heaved another sigh and began to speak.
“My alarm didn’t go off this morning,” she said. He looked up at her questioningly.
“What?” She looked up at him as if he were the one saying things out of the blue.
“My alarm didn’t wake me up, so I was late and didn’t have enough time to pack. That’s why I had to borrow everything from you,” she explained, looking back to her own paper. He continued to look at her.
“And you’re telling me this because…” he drawled and she looked up at him in exasperation.
“I just don’t want you to think I’m the type of girl who expects guys to always help her out and foregoes bringing any supplies with her because of it,” she said haughtily. He raised his hands in surrender.
“I never thought you were,” he offered, and she relaxed a little. They both went back to work, their pens scratching relentlessly at the problems. He didn’t look up when he spoke again, afraid to look directly at her anymore. It was like looking into the sun.
“So why did you transfer to this class?” he asked, and she stopped writing.
“I, um, was originally in the basic chemistry class, but the counselor suggested I take the advanced class. Something about me not being challenged enough,” she said awkwardly, as if she were afraid he would judge her. Killian risked a glance up at her. A beautiful shade of pink was coloring her cheeks.
“There’s no shame in being smart, love.”
Emma looked over at him, one eyebrow raised.
“I never said there was.”
Killian felt his cheeks begin to warm. Why did I say that? He quickly bent his head over his paper, unwilling to speak again. After a moment of him pretending to work on the problem, he heard the pen begin to scratch against her paper again, and a few minutes later the awkwardness seemed to ease.
The rest of the class period continued that way, both working silently for the most part. Occasionally one of them would ask the other a question about a problem, and Killian rejoiced in the way she always moved closer whenever she asked him about something in the book. A scent of cinnamon and vanilla wafted towards him every time she did so, and he wanted that scent to remain permanently in his nostrils for the rest of his days.
Wait, what? He was smelling her now? This was a new level of pathetic and creepy.
The bell for next period rang all too soon, and everyone began to pack up. Emma tried to hand him back his pen as he picked up the textbook, but he merely shook his head.
“Keep it. You’ll need it for the rest of the day anyway.”
She thanked him and put it into her bag, then took out an index card from it. She sighed again when she read what was written on it.
“Problems?” Killian asked politely, standing up and swinging his satchel over his shoulders.
“My schedule has completely changed. My next class is all the way on the other side of school,” Emma huffed, wrinkling her nose as she stood up with her own bag. Killian peeked at the room number written on the card.
“I can walk you there,” he offered somewhat hopefully. She shook her head.
“You don’t have to do that,” she began but he cut her off.
“No, really. I don’t mind. My class is right next to there,” he lied smoothly. Emma looked up at him unsurely, biting her lip. He wondered if that was a regular habit of hers before she responded reluctantly.
“Okay…”
With a shy smile (since when was he shy?), Killian led the way out the classroom and walked with her to the other side of the school, neither of them saying anything. They had a minute to spare when they finally arrived at her destination. Emma awkwardly paused outside the door, as if unsure of what he expected her to say. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure either. Stupid stupid stupid.
“Thanks. Again,” Emma finally said.
Killian nodded and she nodded back. They stood that way a while longer, still not knowing what to say. Right as he was about to wish her a good day, someone cleared their throat behind him. Killian tried to step back so quickly to let the guy through, he tripped over his own feet and had to catch himself on the nearest locker. A laugh bubbled out of Emma’s lips, and she covered her mouth to hide her smile.
“Are you okay?” she asked, biting against her smile. Killian chuckled as he regained his balance.
“Don’t worry, I’m fine. I don’t mind falling for you,” he said with only a slight break in his voice, then held his breath for her response. She laughed again, a beautiful sound.
The bell rang, and Emma began to turn away. Before she disappeared into the classroom, she turned back and gave him a small smile. With a smile of his own, Killian turned around and began to walk the opposite direction towards his class, not caring that he was going to be late. If he could make her smile again, he didn’t care if he was late for the rest of the year.
Much more to post if you like it :)
#Captain Swan#captain swan ff#cs#cs fic#cs ff#cs fluff#highschool!au#artist!emma#heart eyes and leather jackets#emma swan#killian jones#captain swan au#modern au#captain swan fic#cs high school fic
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Kintsugi
This is an original short story I wrote for English class that I thought I'd share. kintsugi (Noun) To repair with gold; The art of repairing metal with gold or silver lacquer and understanding that the piece is more beautiful for having been broken. It was early. Early enough that the sun had not yet graced the sky with its warming presence and the chill of night still remained in the summer air. I was in the kitchen, nursing a cup of hot tea out of my favorite japanese style teacup with purple and blue abstract flowers. I hadn’t intended to be up so early, but these things just happen sometimes. As I stood, hip resting of the low granite counter, I let my mind go blank, savoring the calm you only find before the world is awake. The doorbell rang. Now that was odd, who could possibly be visiting at this hour. I walked to the door of the apartment I shared with my sister Alison. A glance in the peephole revealed two men in suits. I unlocked and opened the door to the police officers. “Good morning officers,” I said sweetly, if a little tiredly, “What can I do for you so early this morning?” “I’m detective Jones, and this is my partner, detective Wallace. We’re looking for Alene Brogan” Jones queried softly. “That’s me. What do you need?” I took a sip of my tea. “May we come in?” “Umm…sure?” I opened the door all the way to allow them entrance to my small apartment. “Why don’t we sit down, Miss Brogan?” detective Wallace’s voice was a comforting baritone. “Right this way officers” I led them to the modest living room area with dark hardwood floors and a dark green couch adjacent to a white floral chair with fluffy cushions. I sat in the white chair and the detectives took their places on either place on the sofa, turning to face me. “We’ve been sent to inform you that at 2:36 this morning the remains of who we believe to be one Alison Brogan were discovered behind the fifth street bar and grille. As you are her only living relative, we thought it best to tell as soon as possible. We are very sorry for your loss.” Jones’ voice was soft, as though he was speaking to a frightened deer. I hadn’t heard his whole speech. At the mention of my sister’s name, my teacup slipped from my hand and shattered on the floor, embedding tiny ceramic shards in my bare feet and dousing them in the hot liquid. I didn’t feel the pain. I didn’t feel anything. In that moment my entire world had stopped and I was numb, robbed of all ability to feel. The detectives had rushed inside to help me with my injuries while I stood completely shell shocked. They asked me where my first aid kit and paper towels were. I answered automatically, letting them bandage my feet and clean up the remainder of the broken teacup. I have no idea how long these events took. They blurred together in the clouded vortex of a mind in shock, making it feel as though time was zipping by too fast to even glimpse and yet it passed lethargically. It was as though this moment, this one, terrible moment, wanted to latch onto me forever and never let me go, to seep into the cracks in my shattered form and prevent any adhesive, no matter how strong, from putting me back together. Detective Wallace moved to throw away what remained of my purple and blue teacup, but I stopped him. Taking the small handheld dustpan from his grasp, I transferred the teacup to the empty fruit bowl on the counter. It might seem strange that I was so focused on a ten dollar ceramic, but that dinky little teacup was one of my most treasured possessions. Alison had given it to me six years prior for my fourteenth birthday. She had been fifteen and had painted the teacup herself with the colors of our birthstones. Ali had always been wonderful at art; she was getting her degree in graphic design. Well, not anymore, obviously. She would never get her degree, or make herself a cup of tea, or even take a nap ever again. And I was all alone. A poor little orphan girl with no one left. In the year that followed, I fell into a pattern of not living but simply existing. I went to my classes, came home, did homework, ate, bathed, went to sleep, and woke up in the morning to start all over again. I rarely spoke when it wasn’t required and I never smiled. I passed all my classes and was one year closer to my degree in computer engineering; but I didn’t care. Not really. It was a little over a year after they found my sister and I had not left my house save for grocery runs all summer. School started back up in two weeks and I was contemplating dropping out. It wasn’t as if there was anyone left to be disappointed in me. No. I have to do this. For her. For them. My family. I thought. They never found Ali’s killer. It was some back alley mugging, and she had been coming home from a party. It might be assumed that this was the beginning of my search for her killer and the subsequent revenge which comes with such tales, but I was not that strong, nor did I seek to enforce any penance for what had happened. I had long ago accepted the fact that her death was simply one of many such attacks. She just ran out of luck. I had spent the day laying in bed, doing nothing of importance and wallowing. As had often been the case in the past year. There was some ad on the tv for a novelty mop of sorts. “Change your life for the better,” it said. And that got me thinking, which got me moving, and the next thing I knew I was out of the house and driving to a local coffee shop. In a couple of weeks it would be flooded with college students doing homework, studying, or just having social hour, but right then, it was mostly empty. I ordered a tea and sat down at a counter facing the window. I didn’t care to look at the stereotypical interior of the coffee shop meant to invite the business of hipsters and struggling artists. As I observed the street traffic and the distant sun, which was quickly nearing its nadir, a small blonde girl sat down next to me with a paper cup of coffee that must have been 30 ounces at least. Her hair was cut into a short bob reminiscent of the roaring twenties, her eyes were a warm and inviting grey with a slight downward tilt, and she wore a bright pastel blue dress adorned with depictions of squirrels in orange. “Hey. I’m Shawn. I know what you’re gonna say, and yes, it is actually a girl’s name,” Shawn smiled lightly and looked at me for a few seconds, as if waiting for something, “And you are..?” she prompted me. “Oh! I’m Alene. It’s Irish,” I responded with a mental facepalm, of course she was waiting for me to give my name. It seemed that my time away from humanity had left me a bit socially handicapped. “Well, it’s nice to meet you Alene. Say, have you ever seen Slipper and The Rose with Richard Chamberlain?” she asked excitedly. “Uh… No?” Shawn gasped, “Welp, that settles it. We must remedy this immediately!” She began to rapidly relay the plot of the movie, along with what she felt were the most important quotes and a few song excerpts. However, the conversation quickly turned to dinosaurs with feathers for a short time before turning to zombies. We sat talking for four hours and it was well past dark by the time I had gone home. Shawn and I began hanging out nearly every day and even had a few classes together when the semester began. Shawn was studying Applied and Computational Mathematical Sciences so there was some crossover. She and I became very fast friends. Shawn was good for me. After all, she was exactly what I hadn’t been for so long. Happy. Shawn was excited by nearly every new occurrence, which seems like it might get annoying very quickly, yet it never did. She helped me start to see joy in the little things again. And all of a sudden I realised that I had been color blind, living in a world made of grey, thinking that there were no other colors. Because, for the first time in a very long time, I had the rainbow back. Seven months after I met Shawn however, my worst nightmare came true. There was no visit from the police telling me that the person I now considered family was gone. No, this was worse. It was about six fifteen and I was heading out to pick up some popcorn for our weekly movie night where one of us forced the other to watch a movie we had been deprived of. I was listening to a bouncy pop song when I turned the corner and saw it. Shawn was on the ground with her back leaning against the brick wall of an old pawn shop. Why is she sitting outside? I had thought innocently before I noticed the dark stain spreading from her lower abdomen and the thin red line trailing from the corner of her mouth. I dialled 911 quickly as I ran to her. The phone operator spouted off the classic opener with a bored tone. My voice was frantic and stuttery as I tried to explain the situation, “Hello. I-I’m at 213 Prenton Way. Um, it’s my friend. Oh god, I think she’s been stabbed!” The dispatcher’s voice was suddenly invested as she informed me that there was an ambulance on its way and how I could help in the meantime. Seven and a half minutes. That’s how long it took the ambulance to get there, how long I held my hands over her wound and begged her to stay with me. It was sixteen hours in the waiting room before I could see her. She was in a private room which felt sterile and invasive. Her skin, which was normally pinkish with a sort of glow was ashen and grey, with dark circles under her eyes. I walked slowly to her. When I reached the side of the bed I collapsed and broke down in tears, which soon devolved into pathetic blubbering. I don’t know when it started, but Shawn had been running her hand over my hair, trying to calm my breathing. We sat in silence for a long time before she finally spoke, “Thank you, for saving my life.” “I didn’t do anything,” I said, looking down at my hand that was in my lap and not Shawn’s hand. “Yes you did. I heard you. And I listened. I stayed.” I broke down again, weeping for a solid ten minutes from both leftover shock as well as relief. And that was when I told Shawn everything. About my sister, and my parents, and that awful year of nonexistence. She hugged me and told me everything would be alright. We talked for a while after, eventually deciding that she would be coming to stay with me. Permanently. And after a week of observation, we moved her belongings into my apartment. Two days later, after I came home from a grocery run, she bounced my way excitedly with a small wrapped package. “Here, I got you something,” she held it out with a nervous smile. When I opened the small blue box, I gasped and tears sprang into my eyes. “M-my teacup? B-but, how did you fix it?” “Kintsugi, it’s an ancient japanese art of repairing pottery with gold. It’s also a mindset, that something broken, once repaired, is more beautiful for the trauma it underwent. Just like you.”
#original story#symbolism#like so much symbolism you'll choke on it#angst#depression#character death#I made my sister cry with this#im sorry#writing#short story#there was supposed to be a scene at her sister's grave but I was already over the maximum word count#heavily implied lesbians#like really heavily implied#teacups#teacup symbolism#kintsugi#mention of hipsters
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{{ Questions for Canon Muses
{{ Found the questions here:
https://fallxnprxnce.tumblr.com/post/160809400830/questions-for-muns-of-canon-muses
1. What is the biggest headcanon deviation from the canon material that you have incorporated into the way you write your muse? Why did you come up with it?
I am incredibly attached to canon, so I try not to deviate from it, as much as possible. There is one detail, which doesn't exactly deviate from canon... but I took a little detail from the comics and twisted it into something freshly agonizing.
In the original comics, Raven's mentor and all of Azarath's spiritual leader died (of old age) when Raven was 10. Now, considering the DCAU movies, 10 looks to be just about how old Raven was when she brought Trigon to Azarath... so I kept the comic!canon that Azar died when Raven was 10, but headcanon that rather than dying of old age, she died alongside all the rest of the Azaratheans by Trigon's hands.
As for what possessed me to conclude that, I have no idea whatsoever, and can only point in the vague direction of "I Was Trying to Figure Out How Old She Was", and then it just kinda clicked.
3. What is something that was never addressed at all in the canon material that you have independently developed for your muse?
Raven's methods of coping with having an abusive parent literally attached to her head? I think we'll be seeing some Conflict of That Nature in the upcoming movie, but as for the daily struggle, that’s all me.
4. Have you made any outright changes to the canon material in order to write your muse the way you wanted (entire scenes you chose to omit, chapters you say never existed, things you assume were never said, etc.)?
I say I take comic canon into consideration to fill in the gaps where the movie doesn't address canon fact... but when I say "comics", I pretty specifically mean the New Teen Titans comics, and even THEN, I intentionally and specifically don't count anything after, oh, maybe 1989?, during or after the Wildebeest / Titans Hunt storyline. Aside from being confusing and convoluted, I've just never felt compelled to address that story in anything I've ever touched.
(Besides the over-arching and undeniably canon fact that Raven is really hard to kill in such a way that she’ll stay dead-forever. I keep that. I love that about her.)
But the absolutely WORST comic canon that I absolutely REFUSE to acknowledge as ANYTHING other than a terrible fanfic is definitely the Sons of Trigon plot from the 2008 issues of "Titans". Vast potential for phobia triggers aside, Raven was so terribly out of character, the story was poorly written, the writers ignored everything Marv Wolfman had ever written (Trigon HIMSELF said Raven was his ONLY heir! over and over and over again), mathematically it just didn't work (there's no way between that time and the time of Titans that Trigon had 6 more grown-adult kids), The NOTP was there and they laid it on out-of-characteristically thick, the fact that I put more effort and development into my own canon-compliant OC than whoever wrote those comics (who didn't seem to bother reading ANY of Raven's history with Trigon), just... so many reasons. I despise that story and will never lift anything from it as any kind of inspiration. You ever want to get me Instantly Salty, just remind me that story was published by Actually Factually DC Comics. I'm disgusted.
5. What is an aspect of your muse’s canon material or canon existence that you never had the opportunity to explore but really want to?
Ah, much better! Truth be told, that's what I write fanfiction for, so most of the answers I could put here have already been penned (whether it's in a file or actually posted). Things like, what if Raven DID have a sibling? Can she fall ill from MAGICAL things? How does she cope with the guilt of everything she feels is her fault? And of course, the 80's comics dedicated an entire issue to exploring her upbringing in Azarath, so that has already been explored quite explicitly. And even on the fluffy side, JLvTT explored her actually Having Fun, which was super nice to see and warms my heart... but, you know, A Happy Raven could always use more exploring. c: Not just in "distraction" either, but comforting her? Heal The Child!! I can and I will address her grief and loss and SEE her HEALING! Not just healing other people, but HERSELF as well!!
6. What is the general opinion of your muse’s fandom about them? Do you agree with it?
Eh, this particular side of the TT fandom is a lot more liberal with her emotions than I've ever seen any reason for? I mean, statistically, she does smile more in this verse than in other aspects of canon, but she still restrains her emotion and she still acts distant and aloof most of the time. She definitely cares and engages and smiles, but like.... not nearly so much, or as quickly, as people tend to write or draw. I don't even think we've ever seen her cry, solely excepting the scene where she's watching Trigon destroy Azarath. Despite all the terrible things that have happened. That says something.
7. For movie or TV muses, what is your muse’s favorite scene? Why? Can you show a screenshot?
Ohogsh, well, her favorite moments are absolutely the times the Titans spend together, as a family. If it weren’t for everything that happened immediately after, the carnival scenes would’ve been among the sweetest time of her life thus far. The things I imagine being her ABSOLUTE favorite weren’t shown on screen, things like Christmas mornings and movie nights, game nights, not even necessarily moments where she was involved, but just times when they’re having a good time, relaxed and enjoying each others’ company. (Especially as an empath, those moments are wonderful.)
I also like to think she’s especially proud of Damian’s growth, but I can’t put it down to a Particular Moment...
8. For movie or TV muses, what is a scene with your muse that you hate? Why? Can you show a screenshot?
(So... Suicide tw on this one. Thanks, JLD:AW.)
Seeing her in pain and struggling and suffering always pierces the most tender and sensitive parts of my heart... but that moment... that scene, the one we've only GLIMPSED, in previews no less, from Justice League Dark: Apokolips War. Where she's on her knees, and she's holding something to her throat... and she pulls back... and she's legitimately genuinely right on the precipice of committing suicide? That has shaken me more than any self-deprecation or guilt or ostracization or loneliness from her ever had before. I don't "hate" it, but gods, it hurts, knowing she was right there, and ready to do that. Because you only actually DO that when you're so destroyed and hopeless and agonized and empty that there isn't any room for hope or recovery in your mind, and it just.... It struck a personal chord in me, let's just say that. ;; I only have Guesses about why she's so ready, but every single one of them just HURTS so MUCH. Whatever it was, it hurt HER so much! Gods. I'm trembling. I just... well I hate that she was so broken, she felt like that was the answer.
(okay.... tw over.)
9. For movie or TV muses, what other character played by your muse’s actor/actress has a lot in common with your muse?
I'm not enough of a TV person to know what else Taissa Farmiga has been in, unfortunately. I know she's done some work in the horror genre, but that's it.
10. For book muses, what is your muse’s favorite scene? Why? Can you provide a short excerpt?
11. For book muses, what is a scene with your muse that you hate? Why? Can you provide a short excerpt?
12. For book muses, what other character from a book or book series has a lot in common with your muse?
13. What canon character do you really wish your muse could interact more with?
Within canon, or within RPs? Because within canon, I'm looking forward to seeing how she interacts with John Constantine. So much. And, I won't lie, I'm desperately curious to see if/how she has any further reactions with Clark, after that devastating life-saving moment we saw in the previews...
~ As far as RPs though, more interaction with the other Titans would be great. Warm-and-fuzzies and camaraderie. Though, as an OC creator, I'd also love to give more love to other OCs?~ I love learning about All-New Characters! I love exploring Raven's interactions with someone she's never met before; someone I know nothing about! And as a writer, I love giving others the opportunity to explore and develop their characters. c: It's a bit of a broad stroke, but it's no less true.
14. What is your ideal AU for your muse?
I actually... don't do AUs? I mentioned my fondness for canon, but, heh, this 'verse already feels like a bit of an AU to me! (I've spent nearly 2/3 of my life loving on the '03 cartoon and the 80's comics, so this DCAU-verse Raven was a whole new constellation of my favorite traits! Plus some younger, softer, vulnerable traits that I also love, and entirely new character dynamics with the new team. Even a whole new sHIP???) Anyways, I guess my point is, this already IS my ideal AU for Raven~
15. What plots/interactions leave you feeling protective of your muse?
Bold of you to assume I'm not ALWAYS feeling protective of her. But anything that hits a vulnerable spot for her, particularly in the spots I can relate to her on... (Which are a lot of them, honestly, but some hurt more than others.) I called her "my little soul-sister" today, and I meant that with every fiber of my being. So seeing her hurt? Protective Mode: Auto-Engaged!
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#Giveaway + Excerpt ~ Movies, Moonlight, and Magic by January Bain... #books #mystery #amreading
This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. January Bain will be awarding a $25 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
Book two in the Manitoba Tea and Tarot Mysteries series Charm McCall can solve a small-town murder, but can she figure out how to stop a man-stealing interloper? A movie production company has come to town…and so has an old family friend of the town’s sexy new Mountie, Ace Collins. His “old pal” turns out to be a scheming long-legged blonde who throws Charm right off her game. Even Auntie T.J. playing the bagpipes down Main Street to drive the trespasser away doesn’t work. Between catering for the world’s hungriest film crew, trying to solve the murder of the unit accountant who hired her and dealing with her new magical gifts, Charm’s a tad busy. But too bad, because she’s soon facing off against a bigger threat when more people become ill with suspected poisoning—and her own sister’s in the crosshairs. Charm’s left wondering if even Agatha Christie could have seen this one coming. But with so much working against them—including the whole town being dead set against them consummating their relationship—do Charm and Ace stand a chance?
AVAILABLE ON
KINDLE
Read an Excerpt: He stuck out his hand for a shake and I was blessed with the dampest paw on the planet, accompanied by a zinger of an image. Howard cared about every penny because he was embezzling company funds, meaning there would be less to steal if I made a decent profit. Sometimes I wished Granny Toogood hadn’t banned swearing—I had a few apt descriptors for this weaselly dealer. I also hoped she was feeling better. The doctor had advised a few days of rest and that had me worried. Instead, I narrowed my eyes at him and he slid his hand from mine. Yuck. I dried my palm by rubbing it discreetly down the side of my jeans, half hidden by my Tea & Tarot apron. “Can you start tomorrow?” he asked, his desperation leaking through, making his face shiny with sweat. Probably because the only other quote he most likely got today far exceeded ours. Guaranteed. The Husky Service on the highway did some catering, but they didn’t come cheap. And their bakery goods came out of pre-frozen tubs and boxes. We prided ourselves on everything fresh baked, from scratch—my fingernails were reduced to rubble from constant work. Proof positive. “Tomorrow! So soon?” All the nerves in my body slammed into high gear. There was so much to do to prepare for such a large undertaking. Could it even be done that quickly? “We’d really appreciate it. Might even find you a bit part in the movie.” It wasn’t the incentive he expected—I just shook my head, giving his start date some thought. Sometimes it was best to jump into things, otherwise I’d never do it. I just prayed I could pull it off and do my family and our town proud. “Okay, but minus the movie walk-on.” The relief on his face made me smile, despite his weaselly-ness. The café door opened abruptly and in strode a young man dressed in expensive dark-wash jeans and a tight black T-shirt clothing a wiry, thin body, his face a study in annoyance. “Howard, I need to speak with you right now. Don’t think you can just get up and walk out on me, mister.” His hand on his hip pressed his case. Howard’s face darkened to a dull red. “Chace, this is not the time or the place. Go. I’ll catch up with you later.” The man looked as though he was going to object before he about-faced and left. His one-finger salute, reflected in the front window before he pranced away, was not in the best taste. Hmm. Good thing Granny wasn’t around to cut him down to size. In the nicest, politest way of course—she could make the worst villain tippy-toe around her. Probably ask him if he needs the finger for anything other than being rude. “Please excuse my friend. He’s not himself today.” “Oh, who is he then?” Howard gave me a blank stare. Baby Ling Ling sauntered in, grabbing my attention as she always announced her arrival with a loud greeting, or warning, depending on how her day was going. Our spectacular white Himalayan with her adorable squished-in face and apricot-colored ears, fluffy tail raised high, proceeded to choose her steps with the utmost care across the tiled floor of the café. I’d guess it was in case we’d had the bad manners to add a trap door since yesterday’s saunter. She deigned to notice the new visitor, striding over and giving him a quick sniff. She jumped a couple of feet in the air with a loud howl, her fluffy white fur standing straight on end as though she’d placed her paw on an electrical charge. “Hiss.” She made herself as big as a tiny eight-pound cat could make herself, arched her back and continued the hissing. “Nice cat,” Howard deadpanned. “Careful what you say to her. Ling Ling’s officially multi-lingual since our librarian, Miriam, added Portuguese to her weekly slate of free language lessons.” I just couldn’t resist, not liking his look of disdain. Or his cheapness that was certain to affect our bottom line. His look of confusion was quite satisfying. He gave Ling Ling a wide berth and headed for the door. “Okay, then, we’ll expect you tomorrow? You’ll get paid once a week, just come by my office and I’ll cut you a check. Oh, and the camp’s out by Spirit Springs.” He paused, his hand on the doorknob, obviously needing confirmation. “Yes, I know where the camp is, and the food will be there. You can count on the McCall family. We never go back on our word.” I gave him a level look that he declined to return. A nervous twitch of his nose and he hopped out of the café. “That guy has a blackish aura with streaks of gray,” Tulip said, pursing her lips. “Yeah, no surprise—he’s working under a brain cloud.” I didn’t want to say the words embezzling cocaine addict out loud and sink the project before it started. “And since when did you start seeing auras?” And what was I going to do with the unwanted knowledge that the guy was stealing company funds? A moral dilemma. I shouldn’t think that was business as normal, even for the movie industry. About the Author:
January Bain has wished on every falling star, every blown-out birthday candle, and every coin thrown in a fountain to be a storyteller. To share the tales of high adventure, mysteries, and full blown thrillers she has dreamed of all her life. The story you now have in your hands is the compilation of a lot of things manifesting itself for this special series. Hundreds of hours spent researching the unusual and the mundane have come together to create books that features strong women who live life to the fullest, wild adventures full of twists and unforeseen turns, and hot complicated men who aren’t afraid to take risks. She can only hope her stories will capture your imagination. If you are looking for January Bain, you can find her hard at work every morning without fail in her office with her furry baby, Ling Ling. And, of course, she’s married to the most romantic man! Who once famously remarked to her inquiry about buying fresh flowers for their home every week, “Give me one good reason why not?” Leaving her speechless and knocking her head against the proverbial wall for being so darn foolish. She loves flowers. If you wish to connect in the virtual world she is easily found on Facebook. Oh, and she loves to talk books… Blog: http://januarybainjourney.blogspot.ca/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/JanuaryBain Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/january.bain Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6437282.January_Bain Totally Bound: https://www.totallybound.com/book/movies-moonlight-and-magic Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Movies-Moonlight-Magic-Manitoba-Mysteries-ebook/dp/B07VQ8S65W/ref=sr_1_4 a Rafflecopter giveaway
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