#it took me forever to find a dialogue bit to add in here

[blindrapture]

this one took a bit more concentration to bring over, even though it looks very simple. we're still in 2016 here, and much like 2 this one is difficult to cohere, reads more like a bad thought. but it is clear that this was another attempt to construct a visual blog.

there is, unavoidably, AI art in this blog. this was 2016 AI art, so it was far simpler and still required my direction to a large degree. that was a weird experimental year for me. I don't really want to talk about it, even though if I were to that probably would clarify this blog. I was not proud of using AI art, and ultimately I saw it as a possible technology that might inspire me. it didn't. in the end I just took some of the better experiments and put them in this blog. appropriately enough, the compositions of the art are entirely mine; it is the texture that is borrowed (though still from sources I chose). ultimately I wanted to use these pieces in the blog because they felt empty. this is a blog of depression, a very empty feeling of being lost.

anyway, unlike for the first two compositions, this time, for 3, I actually elected to do some editing. I replaced some of the art with actual experiments, more recent ones, that I put more effort into. but you have to do some digging to find them.

there are two "main" posts here. hidden within the post "beyond alive" you will find three hyperlinks, each leading to a hidden post. the hidden posts contain new art. (with one exception. but I did hide a third New Art Piece elsewhere.)

you gotta work for it. if it takes effort to make art, then it takes effort to consume it. it's gotta be that way.

but okay, so, if I had to interpret the text, and possibly even the theme of the visual art used? then what is composition no. 3 about?

.......actually, shit. no hang on. this is actually kinda coherent. there's motifs here, there's themes, there's a unity between the goal in the visuals and in the text.

it's something about art and how we view it. a dichotomy between art as commodity (songs in a jukebox) and art as something more mystic. there's intertextuality here, references to the first composition no. and also to Viceking's Graab. composition no. 3 is placed in the middle of some sort of dialogue that we were having but that everyone kinda gave up on. it is a frustrated art piece telling us the source of all meaning: an abyss where nothing resides but primordial colors and shapes. it is frustrated with the pressures art is placed under. as the first composition told us, if you do not write it down it will disappear forever. but 3 adds the painful counterpoint: if you do write it down, it will be read. it will belong entirely to the reader, and you cannot choose your readers. it will be free to pillage, ravage, turn inside out, interpret, misinterpret, weaponize, fortify.

the syberberg allusion is telling as well. we the children of Hell recall the age of the Grail. we, in the present, are the children of Hell. and we recall an age long gone, even if we don't mean to we still assume there was one. that text is aligned to justify, rendering it a rectangular block of text, like a wall, or the immense ground. this makes me think of the past buried in the ground, impenetrable, possibly excavatable but that will surround us with words. the past was all words, too many words, and it gave birth to a Hell of words that we now live in.

so there's something about how.. depression, at least as I experience it, is to be acutely aware of ourselves moving through a Hell of words. navigating the words. having to weaponize them ourselves. and in my more depressed art, I play with words, as I'm performing my depression-- I'm fixated on the active process of tinkering with words. like swimming in the stuff. trudging through it like through a fog.

this blog is deceptively fertile. I like this one when I actually look at it.

it's actually.. pretty. and not as bleak as I expected.

(aside: "so jordan." yes, hypothetical You? "it sounds a lot like you're saying your obsession with Finnegans Wake ruined you. surrounded you with words and made you see them as a Hell." I mean that's possible. I don't think it happened like that, though. Finnegans Wake is heaven to me. I mean, the contents of the Wake are almost explicitly a purgatory, but as a work of art it is heaven to me. I was getting overwhelmed by the world anyway, and the Wake gave me a mirror to it, but a mirror whose deliberate mechanical order is detectable entirely using words, rather than the real world, where words alone cannot make sense of the mechanisms despite being oversaturated and combative. (I'm grateful to the Wake. I'm ride or die with it for a reason. it truly did help me. my depression in the 2010s was.. bleak. the Wake helped keep me alive, it helped keep my brain alive, and my memories. I would store my memories away in the Wake, inevitably, through reading it, and then when weed wiped my brain clean I'd read the Wake and remember. reorganize. keep trying and trying at the puzzle of Putting It All Together Again, until I actually made progress. (I've.. destroyed and rebuilt my mind. and I say that with horror and shame. weed was really fucking bad for me. maybe it's just because of how I specifically used it, but, it was fucking bad for me.)

anyway. yeah.

composition no. 3. I was able to.. make that. during my weed years. the creations I managed to make from those days are precious to me, even if they hide some scary existential trauma.

this one is cool. this one gets at the dichotomy of art. I think the AI art was necessary for that, even if I would never use that again with AI in its current form.

[cursezoroark]

playing desolation, and by the time I post this I will have Caught up to Desolation! This is my own opinion and review on the game! For the record I've only played Rejuv and now Desolation of the entire series. In terms of pokemon fangames i have played ep 1 of Flux , Gaia, and Unbound. Disclaimer and TLDR: the game is Very good as I expected I had fun :] . The devs worked their ass off and the fact this game is free and has this much shown effort is so awesome. when ep 7 comes out i Will be reviewing once again. It wont be for more than a year though given the recent dev update. either way!

Pros:

I love the spritework sort of thing for the dialogue, when important characters come on. It's very pretty!

the credits system is gen p interesting. motivator for getting exclusive pokemon and items and even the capsules + mints, which imo is much better than the AP system that was in rejuv. its more easier to achieve and more incentive.

also HELL YEAH sidequests! I loved the tidbits of main lore u get from certain ones, and certain choices. Inch resting!

The difficulty still makes me work Hard to think but doesn't kill me with a bajillion reset and planning so that's all fair and good 👍 the only one I had to rlly drive home for was Jarred. Jesus fucking Christ. i had valerie flashbacks from rejuv but its worse cause it was a DOUBLE BATTLE.

the SPARKLES. lifesaver for me who loves the shiny sprite reworks in this game. i have a beautiful shiny greninja, umbreon, hydreigon, and vikavolt. Vikavolt is my favorite shiny i love whoever reworked that. Jade is so so pretty :]

the music is KILLER. Vs Shiv and Vs Nova is Good. Very Good. honestly the ost choices here rock. one of the best ost selections i enjoyed it very much.

interesting story! I can sort of peel bits of it off and it'll probably come back later to haunt me. Act 3 REALLY ramps up stuff so it did sweep a good amount of confusion I’ve had since the beginning. Act 3 was great. I miss Tristan. Nova's character is Great when it reaches a certain plot point.

I love the rangers bases, and the sidequest lore does build up nicely on the side. its starting to interfere with the main story too which hmmmmmmm hm hm hm. i will wonder about that.

Criticisms/ personal nitpicks:

i mentioned this above but i wish the ui for sidequests was a bit more clear. Like location wise, where to go, and all that. Icons above characters would rlly help me distinguish things.also PLEASE add flashing settings and shaking sets automatically to the options board pls pls pls.

I hope there will be more featured fields in the future. I did mention this was the more lax difficulty ive been through involving fields, and i watched playthroughs of reborn and played rejuv myself. (idk if theres more games with the field system but do let me know its literally one of my fav things). Like it went from oh God to oh ok to hmm to Oh God like a cycle. Though I think that’s just on my team balancing rlly

Please..... more TM versatility. While it does allow me to get creative with my team choices, it also limits what I can actually do. My TM pool is so low and i want to get creative so bad :']]]. The TM shop at Sunshell was a huge improvement though. very stingy though at lvl 65-70s though.

i Do Not like the maps for specifically silver forest and blackview. Its either very cluttering and makes me walk in Direct Circles, or leaves me very lost when im searching for a specific area. I do get the "open area" aspect of Silver mountain though, and it was easier once I got all the bridges down but still yk? but i literally couldn't find the move relearner Anywhere in blackview. it took me forever.

I wish i had more time to spend with some of the characters (Scarlett particularly) so i could rlly grow attached. I do understand that these are mostly main plot points blasting off from each other, but i just wish I could have had more interactions with the characters? More funny dialogue, more MC options to talk and affect relationship values, yk? I do anticipate an arc for a particular someone coming up though. so we'll see. the plot did do a rlly good job at the ceilia leaders though I adore All of them.

some of the language i winced at. idk if its just me so ill leave this one in the air. i dont know how to feel because im muddled.

In a way, because the plot blasts off one another, the room for me to acknowledge the changes in characters or their relationship between each other was a bit small. Like Connor and Scarlett, I think I only got like two cutscenes or tidbits of their entire growing friendship, so it didn't rlly hit me when The Scene Happened. Either way I do like themboth thumbs up.

SPOILERS THOUGHTS DO NOT READ IF U HAVENT PLAYED OR DO NOT WANT TO KNOW:

I ADORE Cecilia’s leaders. I’ve seen complaints how we seem to be Stuck There for some time and. Yeah I can sorta agree with that. Despite being Rlly Huge it also makes me Yearn for the Routes yk? either I love them all I Adore them dearly. Garrett is my favorite he got to me. Reeve and Rosetta and Aaron are all so very charming in their dynamics and gym leader squabbles.

Waldenhall is a Great Character in his introduction holy shit what an impact this guy had. also artem's sprite made me laugh so hard because their (idk their gender) portrait is just staring straight at the camera whats up w that.

Conclusion:

Should you play this game? YES. its quality is amazing, the artwork is insane, the gameplay is so good for pokemon fans who enjoy a good challenge, and want to get into some existential crises. In general, this series is So Far the easiest in the reborn deso rejuv trio. but it doesn't by far make it bad, or a cakewalk for players. Have a good ol time with it. My criticisms are my own nitpicks, but i rlly admire how much effort devs put into their fangames, by semblance of story, custom art, custom maps, etc. appreciate them lots and lots more. This game in particular weighs your choices a lot more, so you rlly have to snoop around for a particular result that you want. all in all lots of good fun!

Hope to review this again in Ep 7! and here's a goodbye from my Current Team :]

[runnning-outof-time]

Hi lovely! Currently asking around because I’m always interested in how my mutuals rank their own writing (and we love some self love):

The end of the year is close, so what are the top 10 fics you’re most proud of this year?

Hi Chi! Thanks for sending this in! 🥰 we can all practice a little self love! I’m sorry it took me a little bit to respond to this one! I got sidetracked every time I sat down to look through the fics I posted this year, but I’ve finally done it. Below is the list of stories I posted in 2023 that I’m most proud of…I hope you’ll find some of your favs on there too!

1. Mutually Invested - Tommy Shelby x Reader

This one was fun to write because of the plot twist/line it featured. It’s one that I hadn’t really dabbled in before and I was so proud of thinking it up because it was more complex than my usual plots. (ngl I was kinda sad that this one fell flat on its face)

2. Is That How You Remember It? - Tommy Shelby x Reader

I enjoy weaving humor into my stories and this one pretty much had it be the start of the show. It was also fun to try and get my readers involved by asking them to share different ideas of how Tommy and (Y/N) met in this story.

3. The Brother That Always Wins - Tommy Shelby x Reader

I feel I can’t make a list of fics I’m proud of without adding this one. I was so worried about executing this one when I was in the planning phase. It was a tall ask and I was worried how I’d be able to fit all three of the brothers into it…but it turned out to be my most popular fic and one of my favorites I’ve written.

4. Free The Slave - Tommy Shelby x Reader (AU)

I’ve gotta add this one in as well because it was probably the furthest I’ve derived from canon in a fic — it was so fun to find ways to still showcase Tommy’s character traits in it within this new storyline though.

5. Thinkin’ ‘Bout Forever - Tommy Shelby x Reader

This is just a quick, fluffy piece that I really enjoyed writing.

6. Actions Speak Louder - Tommy Shelby x Reader (mini-series)

This was a spur of the moment idea that came to me after reading an amazing mutual’s headcannon…which is the best way an idea should be birthed in my opinion. And then the second part came from a headcannon presented to me in a comment.

7. The Perfect Team - Arthur Shelby x Reader

I had a lot of fun writing this one - there’s something about Arthur and kids that makes me all giddy inside. It was also fun to write this one as Arthur interacting with his s/o’s kid.

8. Blood On the Carpet - John Shelby x Reader

I love this one because I thought of it, and then wrote it, on a dime - which is another amazing way to get inspiration. I also really enjoy writing stories where John’s his goofy/carefree self, and I think that’s captured perfectly here.

9. Everything Is Alright - Arthur Shelby x Reader

One of the best ways to gain inspo - for myself personally - is through listening to songs and reading lyrics. That’s what happened here — it’s so fun to take lyrics and put them into a story as dialogue or showcase them as plot points.

10. When The Kids Are Away… - John Shelby x Reader

This is probably the story that showcases the goofiest John that I’ve written this year. Nothing wrong with a little silly fluff, right?

If you took time to read all of my silly little descriptions thank you so much … I hope I mentioned some of your favs of mine in here, but if not, I hope you find some of your new favs in this list!

[crackinthecup]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @elevenelvenswords - thank you so much, friend <3 (and apologies for taking forever to get round to this!)

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

49 in total.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

456,188 words.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mainly Silmarillion. I have dabbled in Star Wars and Dark Souls too, plus a D.Gray-man fic I wrote for a friend purely based on what she told me about the characters as I've never read the manga or watched the anime.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

My top one is Yield to the Moment, which is completely fair enough as it's a beast of a fic and by far the longest multi-chapter I've ever written. The next two are Strange New World and A bond once called fealty, part of my Swords series looking at Melkor and Mairon post-Dagor Dagorath. Then we've got The Metal Cage which is pure PWP (chastity play/CBT) and I am very glad people are having fun with it. And fifth is A quiet sort of introspection, a Melkor-centric character study also set in the Swords 'verse.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yep! I think it's only fair to reply to people if they've taken the time to share their thoughts about something I've written. Plus it can turn into a really fun thinking space to play around with ideas about characters!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Ohhh I have to think about this one. I don't know if I tend to write particularly angsty endings? Maybe High and Higher? Which is a Fallen Banners ficlet set in Gondolin after Maeglin's return from Angband where he feels like he doesn't quite fit into his life anymore.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Yield to the Moment, probably! The wedding felt like a happy culmination of all the work they'd been putting into themselves and each other.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

It's happened a few times, yeah. But generally people seem to take a "ship and let ship" stance to fandom.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Quite a lot of smut haha. Honestly I'd describe my particular brand of smut as a thinly veiled excuse for a psychological study of the characters.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Haven't written any crossovers yet.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge, thankfully.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

A couple, yeah, back in 2015-ish when I first started writing for the Silm fandom. Sadly I took down all those old fics at a time when my mental health wasn't amazing (wish I hadn't), and I'm not sure if the translations still exist anywhere.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

YTTM started out as a co-written project.

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

Will have to go with Angbang here. They just seem to speak to a deep deep part of my psyche.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I've got a very rough WIP about Mairon bonding with Tar-Míriel in Númenor that I don't feel super engaged with anymore.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Characterisation, I hope! I've always been drawn to writing as a way to explore what makes characters tick, why they do the things they do. I also really enjoy coming up with fun ways to describe things.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Everything can always be improved, I suppose! At the moment I think I'm mindful that I find it difficult sometimes to end fics in ways that feel punchy or memorable.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Totally on board with it when used thoughtfully as a plot device or a way to add depth to characters.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Oh goodness, I think it was Harry Potter back when I was 13 or 14. Those fics will not be seeing the light of day haha.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Hmm I don't actually like reading my own stuff very much. It's a bit of a struggle to switch off the perfectionism. That said, YTTM has a special place in my heart. It took a lot of time, a lot of thought, and sometimes a lot of effort, and while I'm not 100% happy with it, I am glad that I got it over the finish line and that I had a chance to tell a story I really wanted to tell.

[likeshipsonthesea]

Fic asks: F, M, K (I was just going to do those first two, but then the pattern amused me, so I had to throw K in after all.)

From this Fanfic Ask Game list!

F - Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Ah, okay, so my current favorite bit of dialogue I’ve written is from an as-of-yet unposted fic, so I’m going to put that under the cut for anyone who wants to read it.

As far as finished fic goes, I can’t really think of any off the top of my head other than any interaction I wrote between Dex and Whiskey in The Arrangement, but after some sifting I was pleasantly delighted to reread this ficlet I wrote about Dex and Nursey after 4.08 where my shipper heart tried to fix what Ngozi so lovingly shattered. Cutting out the narrative, the dialogue reads like this:

“The washer’s free.” - Dex

“Thanks.” - Nursey

“Need help?” - Nursey

“You can do the socks” … “If you want.” - Dex

“I used to do that.” … “For my mom,” … “when she did laundry.” - Dex

What I like so much about this ficlet, and the dialogue in it, is something I’m big on in my writing, which is that the words people say almost never really get across what they mean/feel, and so with Nursey and Dex specifically I really like when I can give them a good, loaded, important interaction with very little actual dialogue, and I think with this fic in particular I did that pretty well.

M -  Got any premises on the back burner that you’d care to share?

Does it count as the back burner if it’s technically been brewing for upwards of a year?

I have so many WIPs and AU ideas that have been somewhat written but never finished, including but not limited to a Nurseydex stripper!AU which I’ve talked about before, a Dex/OC LAX bro story that I LOVE, how the Haus dryer got Nursey and Dex together, a fic about Dex’s experienced as a First-Gen Low-Income student at Samwell, and a very long fic from Nursey’s frog year to beyond Samwell about his slow and inevitable descent into love with Dex.

…I need to get writing.

K - What’s the angstiest idea you’ve ever come up with?

As you and everyone who’s ever read my stuff know, I am– as I’ve been called before– an angst monster. I live for the angst, I eat sleep and breathe angst. I have never met an angsty idea I haven’t liked.

As far as story ideas, I think the angstiest thing I’ve ever come up with is an AU with Dex’s parents dying and him quitting college and moving back to Maine to take care of his siblings. It never really got legs, but I thought about it before falling asleep for a while and currently have a short, poorly written WIP in my Abandoned Fics folder.

As far as HCs and such, my backstories for Dex and Nursey are plenty angsty– Dex’s being that he was outed to his town at ten years old, bullied for most of his life, and was somewhat taken advantage of by his hockey captain (who was four years older than him) from the time he was 14 until his freshman year at Samwell. Nursey’s super sad backstory revolves around him developing an anxiety disorder from a young age and– though his parents are loving and try their best– he learns to be “chill” and “fine” because he knows it upsets them when he isn’t, and basically becomes hella repressed, which Andover Does Not Help.

.. I swear I like these characters, I promise.

*

Under the cut is a snippet of dialogue from an as-yet unfinished and unposted piece about Dex’s relationship with my OC, Sean the LAX bro. Enjoy! :)

(a little context: Sean is trying to convince Dex that they can make a relationship work, after kind of breaking into his building to talk to him. It’s chill, I promise. I cut off before the dialogue is tagged, so just know the first line is Sean’s.)

        “Okay, this is going to sound really creepy, but remember I’m cute, okay?”

         “What?”

         “Okay, so, uh. I saw you leaving the hockey frat with your laundry and I sort of, followed you and, fuck. I can’t stop thinking about you?” He winces at himself. “This is sounding so much creepier than it’s meant to. I just, I really like you, okay? I think we can get past the team thing. It’ll be kind of like Romeo and Juliet, right?”

         “They killed themselves at the end,” Dex points out.

         “Well, as long as you don’t take drugs from any priests and I don’t kill your cousin, I think we’ll be pretty okay.”

         “Sean,” Dex tries to say firmly, but he’s smiling.

         Sean half-smiles back. “I think we can do it. I really do.”

         “Sean…”

         “And remember how cute I am,” Sean adds quickly. “Also remember that I just ran up three flights of stairs because the elevator was full just for you.”

         “How did you even get in the building?”

         Sean grins. “I am very cute.” Dex gives him a flat look. Sean relents. “Okay, I pretended like I lived here and went in behind someone who opened the door.” He points at Dex. “But I am cute.”

         “I feel like you’re searching for validation here.”

         “And the polite thing to do would be to give it to me, wouldn’t it?”

I just really love this interaction? Sean is a really fun character for me to write and I love his lines in what I’ve written so far, and every time I go back to read this WIP, whenever I get to this part I want to finish it just so I can post this bit.

.. I guess this means I don’t have to finish it now? Ah, I’ll do it anyway.

[rozugold]

Hello friend! You may want to check out ao3. Specifically for something by the name "Necessary Sacrifices", since Tumblr won't allow me to send you links. It may help to add your name to the search bar, but please let me know if you can't find it <3 — Que (WWHWI)

-friggen FALLS OFF THE BED AND GOES RUNNING-

ASKSHDHSKSKS!!!! AAAAA AAA JEHSJDKSLSLSJSK HHHHHH QUEEE!! IT TOOK ME A FEW MINS TO SEARCH FOR IT BECAUSE MY HANDS WERE SHAKINH SO MUCH SKSJSJSK

Aaaaaaaaaa im gonna plop it here if it’s alright!

Im in shambles hhhh but also the line “Dream poked his head — and one arm — around the corner” made me snicker out loud sljddjk

I just ahhdkdjdk your writing style is so good and I kept getting lost in the feels of everything and the way you expanded on their dialogue (And the way Dream’s bravado and extraness is described made me really happy skdjdk he’s such a jerk) And also!! The hug part made me 🥺!!! out loud!! Like aahhgg my heartttt!! That’s exactly how I imagined it in word form hdjhddk it’s so cool!! ALSO the brief scene of what happened after Dream intervined Tommy’s attempt HURTED!!! I welcome that bit as canon to this au because it destroyed me hhhh Thank you Que, im gonna gently hold this and cherish it forever ;;;;;

[ms-moonlight-inn]

Movies for Writers, Part 1/?

Shutting Your Brain Off

(I've been sitting on this post forever, deciding whether I should post it or not. Ultimately, I settled on posting it 'cause someone somewhere might find it useful. Or, it'll just sit ignored. 🤷🏻‍♀️😊 Either way, I hope y'all enjoy...)

***

Occasionally, I come across a movie that speaks to me as a writer for various reasons. Sometimes it's the cinematography, sometimes it's the dialogue, sometimes it's the fact that the movie is actually about writing, itself.

Such as the case with this, first movie: Spalding Gray's "Monster in a Box."

***

Here's the IMDB summary:

"Monologuist Spalding Gray talks about the great difficulties he experienced while attempting to write his first novel, a nearly 2,000-page autobiographical tome concerning the death of his mother. Among his many asides, Gray discusses his problems in dealing with the Hollywood film industry, recounts the trips he took around the world in order to avoid dealing with his writer's block and describes his ambivalence about acting as stage manager for a Broadway production of 'Our Town.'"

***

Here the whole dang thing on YouTube:

Monster in the Box

(please let me know if the video comes down, I'll do my best to replace it)

***

Why is this an important watch?

Three main reasons:

Spalding Gray is a brilliant storyteller. Pay attention to the way he phrases things. How & when he decides to drop bits of exposition. This is a monologue, so it's all the power of his words, and his words alone. There is very little production here.

Even with the small amount of production, there is some camera & sound work here. When does he integrate that? How much & why? You can use that in your own writing. When should you add sensory details? When is it best to leave your prose sparse?

Most importantly, the topic of this monologue is writer's block. The dreaded writer's block that we are all faced with at one point or another. There are some valuable lessons to learn here. Spald suffers deeply from his writer's block, so much so that it leads him to several self-discoveries.

***

The first time I watched this was way back in the day as a college student. I'd actually forgotten most of it, but I remember being in awe of his writing talent at the time. Having recently re-watched it (and now that I've been writing more actively) I'm still just as awestruck, but also a lot sad.

Spalding was often plagued by self doubt. That's hit me in all the tender bits on & off lately. This past winter I had a major meltdown over my writing, so watching this was both timely and reassuring for me. I mean, if an individual of Spaulding's caliber can speak openly about his anxieties as a writer, as well as his own battles with writers block, then certainly there is hope for the rest of us. Right? (Goodness, I hope so.)

Ok, I admit it, this might sound like an overly optimistic view of "Monster in a Box," we are talking about the one work that nearly derailed his entire career; however, there's a lesson in how he navigated the disaster.

He set it aside.

He let it breathe.

He turned it into something else!

He let "Monster" be the thing that it needed to be, that it was supposed to be all along. I think that is the biggest lesson I took from my re-watch:

Sometimes your story knows more about itself than you do.

Let that sink it.

Sometimes, it's best to just shut your brain off and write.

✒️✏️💻

I'm currently working on taking Spald's advice.

[2n2n]

theevilthatismokke holy…! I’ll read everything more calmly later but the summaries were so thorough, you guys even added analysis too! thank you for your hard work, so so much! translation is a bitch even when you’re fluent, so I can only imagine how much effort you guys put in this… you even have interviews saved!! which are so, so difficult (for me at least) to find bc of the sites!! again, thank you, really

Thank you... TT_TT I felt a little silly adding analysis (to something best served being fairly clinical?) hope its liked a bit.... but it also felt at least a little necessary for me...! just to try to tie different results together and compare them, and not let the 'choices' feel only like bulleted lists of random sequences, but things of consequence at times! (its so hard to summarize a VN with overlapping route events it turns out....)AND YASS, when Bird was able to randomly stumble into all of the interviews, one day we were paroozing, I was like, AAAAAAA I NEED TO ARCHIVE THIS NOW SOMEPLACE THAT CAN'T BLOW UP, AAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!! So much goddamn information we can access by sheer luck....!!!! It adds so much context, which helped in feeling 'on track'....

omg I can admit it wasn't easy, pure thirst guides us.... it was such a... '3 translators and a dictionary at all times to supplement Bird's knowledge'.... doesn't help that VN have more kanji than less formally written things... its just fortunate Bird's skills were enough to illuminate meanings.... I was glad the game felt quickly coherent and we never FELT 'lost'..... events made sense.... so, I hope that means it was effective, if time consuming.....

maybe I’ll finally get around playing this game one of these days… even tho it’s so annoying to get it to run on my computer TT_TT. Also, I only scanned the polls real quick but the fact that END 3 ranked so low is pure heresy!! Still, nice to see that Iro (and Aida too) have had… these tastes for so long (of course Lio is their fav, lol), every day I get more hopeful for JSHK’s end and whatever we learn abt the twins (and everything else, really)

END 3 is sooo rivetting, I'm so despondent that Iro had said they wanted to write a little thing about how Lio reacts to Ras & Neige found like that, IT'S NOT FAIR..... I WANT TO KNOOOOOW, IROOOOOO COME BACK HERE....!!!

Really, it all makes you SO excited about learning about the Yugi, wtf.... TT_TT

It is such a bitch to get to run! For many reasons I just don't want to demand everyone play the whole game to get to its delicious secrets.... there are so many hurdles..... I will just expose...... and we were using a text hook of course to be able to copy+paste any dialogue, and THAT took forever to troubleshoot (and then one day for NO apparent reason it simply started to recognize the game and work, and then we were worried it would simply break down again if we sneezed, so we felt this pressure to play it fast without rest before the text hook broke again.... lol....)

[messrmoonyy]

number 3 from the physical touch list (hiding face in neck) for remadora please :)) (no pressure)

Not me neglecting previous prompts/requests because this one the one I got motivation for.

Prompt from this list.

I used this to do my spin on the aftermath of the Battle of the Seven Potters, Cause I like anxious overprotective Remus🙃😗✌🏻( I also changed like. The entire dialogue from the original scenes because why not ). Think battle of seven potters but add a little ✨spice and drama✨. I went off on a total tangent on this tbh. As I do with every prompt it seems. Anyway. Hope you like it my dear anon.

Pairing: Remus lupin x Nymphadora Tonks

Warnings: none

Check my masterlist for all my other writing!

She was late. Incredibly so. Her and Ron should have been one of the first pairs to arrive at The Burrow, he’d arranged for her to have one of the shortest routes. He’d not told her that of course but he was quite sure she’d known he’d gotten a little too tetchy and secretly spoken to Alastor. But he had a right to be over protective didn’t he? This was was his wife. The woman he had literally, and in every sense of the word, sworn his life to. Sworn his dying breath to protect her, care for her.

Yet he’d let her put herself in danger. He could have tried to persuade Alastor to let him and George go the same route as Dora and Ron, or at least in the similar direction. He knew he had to be focussed on the war effort, knew he had a duty to protect the children. But… he also had a duty to protect her. His wife. His Dora. And now for all he knew Bellatrix could have struck her down, her body lying lifeless in a field somewhere.

He wasn’t a particular calm man at the best of times, his stress had its own stress, but he had never felt worse than he did in that moment. He’d already practically attacked Harry, was in no way of any comfort to George and Molly. Or anyone else.

So he was waiting out of the way by the window, constantly looking up at the sky through the glass and waiting for her to materialise through the burrows guards, come skidding over and laugh at him for being anxious over nothing. But the sky remained clear of her vibrant hair and her joyful laugh. The stars practically mocking him as he waited.

“ she’s a tough one. She’ll be okay “ Kingsley had appeared at his side “ Bill and Fleur, Ron and Tonks. They’ll all be here soon. Stop fretting Remus “ Remus almost laughed at the sheer stupidity of telling him not to fret over her. As if he ever did anything else. He always worried for her safety, had done long before they had even become a couple. Waiting up for her to come home from late shifts at the ministry in the days she’d stay at Grimmauld, worrying about her when she’d turn up with a new bruise or gash from something. Marrying her had simply made him fret more.

He’d never felt so protective of anyone in his life, never thinking he ever would either. Yet here he was, constantly putting her first and wanting to do nothing but take care of her. She never left his mind, was his first priority forever and always. He didn’t even want to think about what he’d do if he ever lost her, if he ever failed to protect her.

“ Bill and Fleur were scheduled to arrive as one of the last. Dora and Ron should have been one of the first pairs here “ he said it slightly more harshly than intended and turned to apologise to his friend immediately after, but as he did there was the sound of something passing through the guards outside.

Remus charged outside, almost tripping over his own gangly limbs as he went. He froze to the spot in a mixture of shock and relief as Doras broom appeared in the sky, the bristles smoking and charred as she made an unsteady decent to the ground. She landed in a long skid,stumbling from the broom and directly into Remus’ arms. She practically fell into him and would have knocked him to the floor if he hadn’t been stiff as a board.

“ Remus “ she gasped, hugging him so tightly it took the air from his lungs. But he didn’t even care, he’d give his last breath if it meant dying with her there in his arms. Because she was alright. She was right. There “ was so worried about you. The death eaters and- fuck I know you’re really no good on a broom and you bloody hate flying at the best of times. Merlins balls I was so scared “ she rambled so fast Remus barely understood what she was saying to him.

His hand slipped into her hair in some attempt to hold her as close as he could, still trying to accept that she was really there. Safe. Alive. He had worried for nothing of course. He should have known. She was tough. So much tougher than he gave her credit for it seemed.

He gently pried her out of his grip slightly, needing to see her face just to make sure it really was her. That he wasn’t dreaming it.

“ where were you “ as had most of his words that evening, it came out a little harsh but she didn’t seem to care. She reached up to cup his face in a soothing manner that was the complete opposite of his previous words to her.

“ Bellatrix. Wants me dead just about as much as Voldy wants Harry. Missed our port key. But I’m fine. Ron’s fine. We’re fine. You’re fine? “ he could feel tears welling in his eyes and he felt a bit stupid, but he couldn’t help it. Words failed him and he simply just nodded and pulled her back into his arms “ fucking deatheaters “ she grumbled.

He pressed his face into the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent and letting it calm him. She smelt like the fresh air, her hair all wind tousled and the slightest hint of smoke. Probably from her charred broom. Her hand rubbed gentle circles into his back and it made him feel… small. Which was funny with how much smaller she actually was compared to him.

“ sweetheart… I’m fine “ she said softly, clearly reading his fear still evident on him “ Remus “

He lifted his head as her hand patted him lightly, but he couldn’t bare to part from her again just yet and his forehead dropped to hers.

“ I’m afraid I underestimated you once again, darling. I knew deep down you’d make it back to me, I’m getting far too old to be worrying like this “ he said with a hint of a smile.

“ oh don’t worry, you won’t get rid of me that easily. Take more than a few of old Voldys mental lackeys to take me out. You’re stuck with me now. Im going no where “ their faces were so close he could feel her cheeks shift as she smiled with her words. Her nose brushed against his before she pressed a kiss to his lips. He usually was rather strict on his avoidance of showing affection to his wife in front of well… anyone really. But he happily kissed her back, even if he did cut it off a little shorter than he truly wanted. Still wondering at the back of his mind if any of the order were secretly judging him. It’d never escape him no matter how hard he tried not to care about it.

As they pulled apart she then only seemed to notice that there was blood on his hands and his jacket. She took a step back, her hands suddenly searching for an injury.

" blood? Remus? " her hands were frantic as she yanked at his collar, pushed up his sleeves, searching for anywhere she could find an injury. He grabbed ahold of her hands and shook her slightly so that she would look at him, it was clearly her time to fret and not his.

" Dora. Dora relax. It's not mine. It's not my blood. George was hit.. don't worry he's alive. He's lost an ear but he's okay. So am I. Not my blood love, it's not mine " she couldn't seem to help herself then and dived for lips again, holding his face in her hands and kissing him harder than before. He still couldn’t help but be a little reluctant but kissed her back, his embarrassment of kissing her in front of others not mattering when they were both just thankful to be alive and with each other.

" I'm just so happy you're alive " she whispered when she pulled back, resting her forehead to his. He opened his mouth to say something else but suddenly she was yanked out of Remus' embrace and shoved away, her clumsy legs stumbling in the gravel and she fell quite ungraciously onto her ass with a grunt of pain. Remus immediately rushed to her side in confusion.

" what the fuck! " she shouted and Remus looked up to see that Kingsley had been the one to pull her away, his wand now pointed at her face.

" Kingsley! Lower your wand! " Remus immediately jumped to her defence, crouching beside her and placing a hand to her shoulder  " Dora are you okay? Dora? "

" someone betrayed us we have to check everyone. You didn't even confirm her identity Lupin, she could have killed you. Look I didn’t mean to knock you down- we have to be certain you understand? "

" are you bloody mental?! " Dora yelled again, rubbing at her elbow that she’d clearly hurt on the way down.

" Kingsley... lower your wand she got Ron back safetly it's quite clearly- "

" we have to check " Kingsley said cutting off Molly, who had come outside with the commotion. Remus helped her back to her feet and then grabbed her hand, stepping in between her and kingsleys raised wand.

" lower. Your. wand. " his voice was commanding as he could muster, Kingsley was his friend. But Dora was his wife. And she came first. And he would put himself between her and a raised wand any and every time. No matter who was on the other end of it.

" Nymphadora Tonks gave me a present for my birthday last year. What was it?" Kingsley asked, ignoring Remus entirely, his wand still pointed at her as she was half hid behind Remus’ body.

" this is ridiculous! We're all turning on each other now? "

" answer the question " Kingsley ignored Remus again, which only made his blood boil more. He was already on edge that evening with the fear of losing his wife. This wasn’t helping to lower his stress levels.

" I know my own damned wife- "

" what was it! " Remus drew his own wand then at the increase in Kingsleys anger, pointing it in Kingsleys direction.

" Remus! "

" lower. Your wand. And step away from my wife " he demanded, not wanting to hurt Kingsley… but willing to if he had to.

" you don't even know if that is your wife"

" please! Stop the both of you! " Molly shouted.

" fucking hell " Dora said and held onto Remus hand harder, stepping better into view " I gave you a new set of quills because I charmed your last lot to throw them self out the window whenever you touched them. Happy? " Kingsley was quiet for a moment longer " now drop your wands. Both of you " Kingsley looked to Remus before finally lowering his wand. But Remus couldn’t. He felt betrayed almost, that someone he thought as a friend would do something like threaten the woman he loved.

Dora pressed gently on Remus' wrist to make him too lower his wand when he didn’t do it if his accord immediately " Remus. Lower your wand...Remus “

" this is exactly what Voldemort would want. To see us all turning on each other. We cannot let ourselves get paranoid like this " Remus said bitterly, wrapping an arm around his wife protectively and finally dropping his wand arm. He knew that Kingsley has been right to check in a way. He had needed to check. Though there were much better ways to go about it rather than pointing a wand at her head. To hold a wand to a witch or wizard was one of the most disrespectful things you could do.

" someone betrayed us "

" Dora and I are never out of each other's sight long enough for anyone to have made a switch or have her as their spy. And you know that. How dare you hold a wand to her head. How dare you " Remus was itching for an argument. And Dora could sense it, also so incredibly good at reading his emotions and thoughts before even he was.

" Remus " she said softly, lifting a hand to gently turn his face to look at her instead of glaring at Kingsley " Remus look at me " she ran her hand gently through his hair and he instantly seemed to relax. His own muscles losing tension without his consent at her touch. She had a knack at being one of the only people to get him to the calm down in almost an instant. Sirius and James had been the only other people he knew that could " relax. It's okay " she transported them into their own little bubble. As if the others were no longer in the burrow too and she kept him there, gently rubbing at his hand until his first unclenched and angry breaths returned to normal.

[dreamii-yume]

not a request but, Idia seems like the type to make a hentai game based on his darling correct? so he uses that as a base to have experience to woo his darling. but now as he tries it irl, he's confused it worked in the game. so why is the darling crying? is there a glitch somewhere? thoughts?

It all started when he thought that you looked like a character from an anime he watched once. He was a fond of the character so, he couldn’t help but to observe you more than he should, hiding his excitement throughout. There, he found out that you don’t just share a similar appearance but a similar personality as well, the perfect embodiment of that character. Idia almost thought that you were some kind of base for that character, cosplaying even, but you were from another world, weren’t you? Could it be that you’re actually that character and just got reincarnated into his world without knowing that you’re an anime character yourself!?

Reverse Isekai, was it? A twist in that overused genre where the fictional character is the one who gets to be trasported to the normal world. Idia was there on the peak of its popularity, reading all the manga, novels that he can find, watching all the anime adaptations along the way. Then the premise just gets redone over and over again that it slowly became boring. Even if they add twists here and there, it still ended up the same.

But now comes you, a real person that got transported into his world! A person who just happens to look and act like the character from one of his beloved shows! You can’t blame him for being this intrigued by your existence! Because how can he not!? This is an otaku’s dream coming true right here!

And best of all...You have his favorite character archetype! How awesome is that!?

Before he knew it, he was all over you. Well, not really...Since he was too shy to actually talk to you, and all he was just doing is either hide behind that tablet of his and a wall at least five meters away. He had already embraced the joys of being a loner and is practically a master of running away from social gatherings or talking in general, but now that it came to this, it became a double-edged sword.

Ortho said to just build up the courage to talk to you if he so badly wants to and he does. He really, really wants to talk to you, at least once...Or twice...Or thrice- The point is that he really wants to. But as supportive as the little brother of his is, he makes it sound so easy. Of course, someone who doesn’t know jackshit about making friends would never be able to master that skill that easily. He cringes at the thought of doing so without any experience, you’d probably see him as another creepy otaku.

Then, it came to him...A thought that proves that he was actually the genius that everyone claims him to be.

Experience. Of course! He’ll just have to gain experience so he can level up! With that, he can conquer your route doing just that! And what better way to do this than to combine it with something what he’s well-experienced with?

So, he started working. His fingers worked on the holographic keyboard faster than he’d ever been, creating a dating simulator game in less than three days. Ortho himself was surprised to see his usually unmotivated and borderline depressed brother having this intense look in his eyes. Idia barely ate or sleep during all of that, but he doesn’t care, what matters is that he finished it.

He finished the game that can finally help himself out, a dating simulator with only one character to focus on. A character who’s basically a spitting image of you and named after you, he even sneaked in some voice lines that he secretly recorded you saying. Idia had observed you longer to know what to write in the game script, which choices you would make, which words you would say, there was even different sprites and assets of you, depending on your emotions! Though, his hand seems to have slipped and before he knew it, he had already hired some Top-tier doujinshi artists to draw some Not-Safe-For-Work CGs of you for some Not-Safe-For-Work scenes. Yeah...He thought so far ahead that it just kinda turned into...Those kinds of simulation games.

But he regrets nothing.

...Other than the fact that he should probably keep this game away from Ortho as much as possible.

Anyway, it was probably one of the games that he took his sweet time with. Even though it was a game that he himself created, it was like he had developed some form of amnesia and was marvelled at his first time playing such masterpiece. All the twists and events left him in awe, squealing at every single CG when your character goes as little as holding his in-game character’s hand. The more...special scenes had him gulping down his own saliva as a physical reaction, the moans and groans that he recorded from you was when you were stretching in the morning, or when you’re startled or exercising, and yet, it fits so well with each sex scene. His face flushed and his pants felt so tight as he read through the dialogue box, his hand later slipping underneath them just so he could relieve his excitement.

“(Y/N)...Hehe, (Y/N)...♡” He blissfully moans as his hand goes up and down his cock, biting his blue lip in anticipation. Sweat was dripping down his forehead and his flaming hair burned a brighter blue, expressing his excitement. His imagination was going ballistic, imagining your own tightness around him as he slid in and out of your slick insides. The closer the scene reached its climax, the faster his hands became, determine to release at the same time as your character. “Haa...(Y/N)~♡ It feels so good...So good...Haha...”

With a satisfied moan, his own strings of semen shoots against his screen, perfectly coming just in time as your character appears, all flushed and exhausted. Idia let out a sigh, calming down from his high with a few strokes here and there to make sure of a satisfying release.

“Haa...Idia-kun, I love you ♡”

That was his favorite dialogue, no matter how many times he replayed this scene, it never fails to arouse him, making him all warm on the inside. A huge blush covered his cheeks as he smirked, slowly building up into an unhinged chuckle. He brushed his hands down the tainted screen, smudging his cum even more as he imagined it as your face. “Aah...Me too...I love you too, (Y/N)~” He whispered, shivering in excitement. “Aw...I can’t wait to have you for real...Wait for a little while, ‘kay? Hehe...”

This plan was a success and certainly helped him gain the confidence and experience that he needed to finally talk to you properly. Memorizing all the available scenarios and route he can go to, he just felt like he can do just about anything right now. With all these knowledge in mind, you surely won’t be weirded out and things wouldn’t be as awkward as he had already formulated a full conversation on his head. A bad end flag was still left arise, but it was placed so low that Idia can’t just spend another batch of his precious time with it, nothing would go wrong if he just do what he practiced, right? For that reason alone, his birthday was coming up and for the first time in forever, he could use a party as an excuse to talk to you. It doesn’t matter who comes anyway, he’ll have Ortho to accommodate them, Idia’s main focus should only be directed at you.

Plus, if he was going to confess on his birthday, then that’s just a major advantage! Plenty of stuff happens when it’s your own character’s birthday in any game, developers becomes extra generous with the drop rates in gachas, they give you more game currency to spend, and extra scenarios with your favorite characters! Sometimes even free stuff of your choice! This would definitely put his chance rate well above what he expected, it’s you after all!

“Happy birthday, Idia-senpai. I brought this gift for you, I hope you like it.” Ah, there it is, his goddess’ voice echoing through the walls. You said that you were going to conduct a birthday interview with him which got his heart beating like crazy. W-Were you going to start the confession event here!? With all these people!? That’s too daring! Though, that’s really charming of you, and a part of him actually wanted that to happen so he could finally point his fingers to these losers-

But no, unfortunately, he doesn’t have that much confidence to give and so, he ended up having to push you somewhere more secluded. Somewhere more...private. Like his room for example- that’s a good place, right~? Nobody can interrupt this interview that way and...and they can do play all sorts of games right after too...That’s fun, isn’t it!?

The interview was surprisingly fun, although it really just consisted of him ranting to you all about his interests. He ended up spilling all facts about his favorite idol group, games, and movies, his big mouth going off on a tangent once again because of that one question. This wasn’t exactly part of the plan, he was planning to give off a smooth vibe to it but he guessed he was just a tad bit under-level for that. Anyway, you ended gracing him with an adorable giggle so, it doesn’t really affect his motives! He’ll still conquer your route like he did with the game!

A few more questions about his favorite and least favorite food comes, Idia couldn’t help but be impatient. When were you going to activate the scenario, huh? The love confession event, it was the one question that he was waiting for. His heart was ready, his body was ready, his everything was ready...So, why were you standing up with a satisfied look on your face? Aren’t you forgetting something here?

“And that concludes our Birthday Celebration Interview! Idia-senpai, thank you for answering all my-“ Idia’s heart skipped a beat as his hands automatically grabbed your hand and pulled you down, rather aggressively.

“W-Wait! Wait, wait, waitwaitwait-“ Idia stumbled over his words, his face flushed as he stared at you with a crooked but nervous smile. “U-Um...! T-There something else...That I want to tell y-you...”

Oh, no...This was that one scenario in the extreme difficulty mode of the game, where you’re not triggering the confession event at all. You’re probably so conflicted with your emotions that he has to do it himself as the main character. It’s not the original route that he’s going for, but it’s fine, he has the script of this mode in memory too, he should be able to pull it off...That’s weird though, he never remembered activating anything to play in this difficulty...Whatever, real life really is something else, isn’t it?

You were surprised and quite honestly, bothered at his sudden outburst but that’s fine. You were the same in the game too, he just had to take control of the situation. “I-I...” He gathered the words in his head, his face heating up than it ever did before.

“(Y-Y/N)...I like- No...” He stammered as he tries his best to form a nervous smile, his heart was beating so fast but that’s not really something new. “...I love you, (Y/N)...”

Idia heard a slight gasp from you but delusions took over his mind before logic can come bursting through, rendering him practically heart-eyed at the situation. He was distracted, but he still waited for your response even if he was already a hundred percent convinced that his confession was a success. It has to be, he had already seen this exact scenario in the game for a millionth time. “...D-Do you...love me too, (Y/N)...?” He fiddled with the tip of his burning hair, leaning close to you as he knows that it’s a special skill that increases his success rate up to at least twenty percent. “...You l-love me too, don’t you~? Hehe...♡”

Yes. You’re going to say yes. You always had said yes in the game as there was absolutely no reason for you to say otherwise. Everything that happened before this went according to plan, he followed every route, said the correct dialogue choices, so there’s no way that he can fuck this one up. He had definitely conquered your route for real this time!

“Ah...” But he had to wonder though, why were you averting your eyes for? That’s cute, but you don’t have to be shy...Just say that you love him too, he can hardly wait! “Idia-senpai...”

“...I’m sorry.”

Idia blinked, his body freezing on its spot as you bowed in front of him so respectfully. Your mouth began to move to deliver more words of explanation for him to understand, but he just couldn’t hear anything else anymore.

What did you say? You’re...sorry? Haha...For what though? That’s weird, that’s not what you were supposed to say, even if this was set in extra hard mode. He did everything correctly so, no matter what difficulty he’s in, you should be able to accept his confession every time.

...Is it a bug in the system? A glitch that he didn’t see?

You called out to him once again, you called out his name and upon looking up, he could only see your face. So full of concern and pity, but no signs of falling in love whatsover. No...You shouldn’t be looking at him like that, what the hell just happened?

This is all wrong...!

Before Idia could even properly process anything, he had found himself on top of you, both frustration and anger building up inside him. His hand, albeit really shaky, had found itself a dangerous clasp around your neck and your expression suddenly turned white. You’re struggling underneath him, like a deer caught by a hunter, kicking and scratching his arms away. But you were scared, he could tell by that look in your eyes, he could easily squeeze your neck in this position after all.

“I-Idia-senpai...!” He heard you call out but your voice just bounced off his ears, he was too distracted by his own shock. This was not in any of the scenarios that he formulated inside his mind, and he created thousands, for Hades’ sake! His breathing became unstable as he began to hyperventilate, sweating immensely as he tries to wreck his brain for whatever the hell he was supposed to do in this scenario. This wasn’t how the game continues after a confession event! Was he too inexperience or under-level to conquer your route? Did he miss a side quest from you or something? What did he do wrong? Was it the lack of gifts of affection? Normally, you were supposed to say that you love him too, embrace him before the two of you share a kiss and-

...A kiss?

Oh...Oh, that’s right! Maybe this is where the code got rewritten and that the kiss should come first now? Maybe your character was taking a different turn, you were probably shifting to other character types to accommodate your new-found feelings...You’re being a Tsundere, aren’t you~? So cute, but you don’t have to push him away though, he’ll keep coming back to you anyways.

...And so, in hopes of desperation, that’s exactly what he did, he leaned down at you as he smashed his lips onto yours. You widened your eyes with a muffled scream coming out of you, but Idia kept your mouth busy as it is. He was on cloud-nine, enjoying your soft lips against his chapped ones so much so that he just instinctively started grinding his hips against yours. You were starting to panic, but that’s fine, that’s a normal reaction. Both in real life and in-game.

By the time that he finished selfishly sucking up your lips, ultimately creating a little bruise on the side, he pulled away with a string of saliva connecting both your tongues together. Idia giggled to himself, the feeling of your lips and tongue was still lingering on his that he can’t help but be hungry for more. However, looking back at you, he blinked as tears suddenly began to stream down your cheeks. Your chest heaving up and down as small hiccups comes out of your every sob.

It made him panic slightly at first, but then remembered a scenario like this once in the game...Though, it wasn’t a scenario as drastic as this one, that he’ll admit. “A-Ah, you shouldn’t cry...” He tried comforting, letting go of your neck and wiping your tears away with a nervous smile. “Y-You’re not supposed to cry after a c-confession event, it’s not in your file...”

You flinched at his touch. “S-Stop, please...L-Let me go...” You whimpered, lifting your arms up to try and shield yourself away from him. “I-I won’t tell anyone, I-I swear-!”

Idia’s hand twitched, quickly covering your mouth as a nervous rection so that he wouldn’t hear the words that he doesn’t want to hear anymore. He felt scared to touch you now, seeing how defensive you got, his little angel’s crying and it’s all because of him. Your words certainly impacted him, but he shook his head instead, he has to keep himself from looking down.

“...You shouldn’t say that either, that’s not in your script.” He said with a bit of stricter tone onto it, attempting to show you how capable he can really be. He grabbed your wrist and forced your hands open, revealing your terrified expression. “Don’t worry...It’s just a little twist on the story, I’m sure. I just have to restart the system, right...?”

“I-I’ll fix you up soon enough, H-Honey~” You watched him with eyes slowly widening in realization and terror as he started to untie his tie, to remove the birthday outfit that he clearly dislikes. You were frozen, you can’t move, not like you could do much with someone as big as Idia straddling above your stomach but you were left immobile with fear. His use of love words sounds extremely clumsy and Idia himself cringes at the sound of it coming from his own mouth but he’s enthusiastic. That doesn’t make it any less terrifying for you at all.

The game’s not finish yet. It’s just as he expected, there was a little glitch that needs a little fixing. It was the cause of a scenario as unreasonable as this one to appear. But it’s fine. He can fix it all up, he can fix you all up and when he’s done with that, he’ll definitely conquer your route for real this time.

After all, there’s no game that he can’t finish, that would be a shame to his Otaku title! It doesn’t matter if it’s his birthday, he’s going to work all night to fix this very unpleasant glitch in you. What a pain~ Idia wonders what kind of price he’ll get from you after this.

...Not that he’s going to complain anytime soon lol

Idia has the personality of an ugly bastard. Just saying *cough*

[sonnetthebard]

for one shots maybe a Princess Bride AU of Spies Are Forever? "Life is pain, Mega. Anyone who says differently is saying something" (maybe a Westley!Owen? there was an ask about it and it is now stuck in my head)

Oh yes. Yes yes yes yes yes. You have no clue how happy I am. I had a whole Westley phase, now I'm having a whole Owen phase. Perfection.

Genre: Angst/ Fluff/ Romance

Words: 2055

TL;DR: Curt's encounter with Dread Pirate Roberts does *not* end in the way he expected it to.

TW: Mentions of death and grieving, violent thoughts

Yes Curt is Buttercup, no I will not be taking questions. Also a lot of this dialogue was borrowed from the movie.

___________________________________________________________

How Curt had let himself get here was beyond him. He was exhausted. Truly. He'd had quite the past few days. Why anyone had decided to kidnap one of the kingdom's most valliant knights was beyond him. Why him? Of what importance was he? But even worse (and really more embarrassingly), he hadn't actually been able to overcome his captors. To be fair, as tiny as the man who had kidnapped him was... his two henchmen were more than capable of keeping him right where they needed him. One was very large, and another (a girl no less) was very good with a sword. Better than he was. God, he wished he was home. He wished he hadn't been alone that night, vulnerable to any kidnappers. And that's when all the thoughts he had been trying to push away made their way into his head.

Owen. That's what would have made this all better. Owen. Owen could fix just about anything.

But Owen was gone. Owen had sailed away on a ship, and... that ship was overthrown by the Dread Pirate Roberts and his crew. He was dead. Never to return. In a way, it almost paralleled how Curt was never to return to his days on the farm. Especially not now that the Prince had taken a fancy to him. He didn't exactly fancy the Prince. But hey... it wasn't like Owen was going to come back. At least the Prince was someone to take care of him. Not that he was taking very good care of him in the moment.

No. Curt had gotten a bit distracted in the recounting of his situation. He was not, in fact, captive at all anymore- well... depends on your definition of captive. He suposed he technically still was. Just not by little Von Nazi of Germania and his henchmen. Now, he was being dragged by the arm by a man in all black. His feet were sore, and he could barely keep up the man was walking so fast. He's stumbling, and honestly he could fall any second now. He wouldn't be surprised at all if he simply collapsed. He was hungry. He was barely getting the chance to breathe. His head hurt. Curt was done. Just at the moment Curt feels like he could crash, the grip on his arm is released, and the gravelly voice of his captor pulls him from his thoughts.

"Catch your breath." The man almost seemed to spit it out, as if ever word was bitter to him.

"Please..." Curt panted. "If you stop this... if you let me go... the Prince will pay my ransom. I'm sure of it."

"You're sure, are you?" The man laughed spitefully.

"Yes!" Curt nodded, desperate. In his exhaustion, he almost thought the man might be talking genuinely.

"You're certain?" The man continued on his spiteful tangent. Curt nodded. "Who are you to be certain of anything, good sir?"

"Pardon?" Curt blinked, confused.

"I said who are you to be certain? Are you a god? Or a scholar? Are you, in fact, the prince in disguise?" The man asked coarsely. Curt shook his head, still a bit dazed. "I thought not. I would advise you, good sir, not to make promises you cannot keep."

"I was just giving you the chance to release me willingly." Curt told him bitterly. "You think you're going to be able to escape the Prince? Oh no. He and his men could track a falcon on a cloudy day. He'll find you. And when he does, 'good sir', you are a dead man."

"You think your dearest love will save you?" The man in black seemed to taunt.

"He is not my 'dearest love'!" Curt protested, still trying to catch his breathe. "He's not even my 'love'! He's just my Prince. But yes, he will save me. And, I will add- before you say another word- that he would do the same for any of his knights. We are his family."

"You admit to me that you do not love your liege, then?" The man smirked menacingly.

"He knows that I don't love him." Curt nodded defensively.

"You mean that he knows you are incapable of love." The man in black sighed. Why did everything that came out of this man's mouth sound so bitter?

"I am more than capable of love!" Curt protested. "I have loved more deeply than a wretch like yourself could ever dream!"

"Wretch... that's a good one." The man laughed softly, still bitterly. He grabbed Curt's wrist with an iron grip, and Curt hissed in pain. "Let that be a warning to you, fair sir. I have no tolerance for liars."

And so they were walking again. And walking, and walking, and walking. Far away. Until Curt's feet were so sore that he couldn't feel anything but the pain. The pain consumed his thoughts. Pain, and how odd this man was. He had figured out precisely who this was. With that wit, and that cruelty... It had to be the Dread Pirate Roberts. The man who had killed Owen. A man who Curt had wished dead for years. A man who Curt was going to kill the first chance he got. All of a sudden, that was the thought that consumed Curt's mind. With every step he took it got stronger. And the stronger it got... the happier it made him. God, he knew that was sick, but... revenge would be so sweet. Suddenly, Curt felt himself dropped.

"Rest, sir knight." The man sighed. Curt fell to the ground, propping himself up, unable to move.

"I know who you are." Curt blurted out, filled to the brim with anger. That seemed to amuse the man. "Your cruelty... it gives you away."

"Oh? And who am I?" The man smirked.

"You are the Dread Pirate Roberts." Curt stated plainly. "Admit it."

"Proudly." The man bowed grandiosely. "What can I do for you, sir knight?"

"Die." Curt spat. Dread Pirate Roberts' brows raised in amusement.

"A bit harsh, don't you think?" Dread Pirate Roberts mused playfully.

"Not nearly harsh enough." Curt glared at him. "If it were up to me, you would be torn limb from limb."

"Hardly complimentary, sir knight." Dread Pirate Roberts chuckled. "Why loose your venom on me?"

Curt took a moment, sighing. He didn't want to talk to this man, but he supposed he had been the one to initiate the conversation. And to admit his same-sex attraction to his captor... he could die. Though he had already seemed to guess it, implying that he loved his Prince. Perhaps things were different for pirates. He took a shaky breath.

"You killed my love." Curt croaked quietly. Curt wasn't sure whether the pirate looked more or less amused, but the look on his face had certainly shifted- as had the mood. There was silence for a moment before Roberts responded.

"Perhaps." He admitted. "I kill a lot of people. Who was your love? Another Prince? Pompous, poised, and cold?"

"No... he was a farm boy. Poor." Curt admitted. "Poor, and perfect. With eyes like melted chocolate, and hair to match. Your ship attacked his, and... everyone knows that you take no prisoners."

"Well, I can't, can I?" Roberts reasoned. "People will think I've gone soft! And then any respect they may have had for me goes right out the window."

"You mock my pain!" Curt fumed, sadly and frustratedly.

"Life is pain, sir knight. Anyone who says differently is selling something." Roberts stated. "I remember your lover. Was it not four years ago that he perished?"

"It was." Curt sighed.

"He died with his dignity intact, if that's any consolation to you." Roberts sat next to Curt. "No blubbering, no tears. Only a simple plea: 'Please, I need to live'. I asked him why. And do you know what his answer was?"

"True love." Curt sniffed, looking to the ground.

"True love indeed... I can only assume he meant you, sir knight." Roberts sighed. "He talked of a man of boundless beauty, undying heart and unsurpassable faithfulness. Consider yourself lucky I killed him before he could see you for what you truly are."

"What I am?" Curt blinked in shock.

"Well, good sir... he talked of your unsurpassable faithfulness, if you will remember." Roberts almost seemed to scowl. "Did you run stright to your prince when you heard of his death? Or did you wait a few hours out of respect?"

In that moment, Curt snapped. He was unsure of when he had even registered his surroundings or if he had even fully taken it in. He was on the edge of a hill. He barely remembered thinking about a single thing other than the fact that this man had insulted both him and Owen in one single bound. He stood up, pulling the pirate ith him. Where he found the strength he did not know. Perhaps it was Owen, from beyond the grave. Or maybe it was simply the fortitude of his heart. But there was a fire in his eyes as he looked directly into those of the Dread Pirate Roberts, who stared back in total and utter shock.

"You don't get to insult me or my lover, for on that day I died with him!" Curt growled. "You can die too, for all I care!"

And with that, he let go of Roberts, shoving him over the edge of the ravine. He watched as Roberts tumbled down, a pit growing in his stomach. Why did he feel so terrible? He had just saved his own life and killed Owen's killer. He should feel relieved. The wind seemed to ring in his ears, his hearing acute. So naturally, he heard it more than clearly when Roberts said the words that made his heart stop.

"Curt Mega... you're going to be the death of me!" Roberts called up.

Curt's blood seemed to stop flowing, and he lost any colour he had.

"Owen? Oh, god!" Curt breathed, not thinking twice before throwing himself over the edge of the ravine. Before long, he too was tumbling to what could be his death.

About ten minutes later, Curt regained his consciousness, groaning. It seemed he wasn't too far behind Owen- who was grimacing, starting to stir. Owen crawled slowly, painfully, towards Curt. Curt did his part, trying to prop himself up on his side. Owen got closer to Curt, doing the same and running a hand through his lover’s hair. Curt reached an arm out, wincing, pulling Owen's mask off and taking a look at his lover's face for the first time in four years. It may have been the exhaustion, but Curt started to cry tears of joy.

"Darling... hey, love..." Owen cooed gently, soothing him. "It's okay. It's okay, love."

"You're here..." Curt sniffed, a bit embarassed.

"Can you move at all?" Owen asked.

"Move? You're alive!" Curt started to laugh happily. "I could fly!"

"Why did you move on so quickly from me?" Owen asked him tenderly. "I told you I would come back to you."

"I never moved on, Owen. Never." Curt assured him, still beaming. "I never will."

"Then you really don't have anything going on with the Prince?" Owen asked. "There are rumours, you know."

"Never." Curt shook his head. "He's so far from being my type..."

"Good." Owen sighed in relief.

"You were dead..." Curt sighed, still in shock.

"I'll explain later." Owen chuckled. "Well... I suppose there's a lesson to take from this, 'sir knight'."

"And what would that be?" Curt smirked playfully.

"Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for awhile." Owen smirked back.

"I will never doubt you again." Curt promised him.

"There will never be a need." Owen promised him in return.

And with that, they sealed their agreement with a kiss. It was tender, loving , and gentle- a representation of all of the wonderful things about love. It had been a long time coming... But oh, was it ever sweet. Both tangled their hands in each other's hair, taking in every moment they could to its fullest. And with that kiss, they knew that their love was stronger than anything that any prince, king, or fireswamp could throw their way.

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Kismet {9}

Henry Cavill x Famous OFC Aliya Taylor

Warning: Slow Burn, Mild Cursing, Dialogue Heavy, POV Changes

Words: 3.5k

Summary: Aliya is a singer turned model turned actress. Since she was fifteen, she’s been creating her empire in the entertainment world. As the daughter of a famous fashion model/designer and Hollywood director, you’d think life is easy for her, but her past has been anything but easy. Due to past trauma, she’s forever changed and no longer trusts any man that is not in her family and a select few in her team. She’s sworn off love and serious relationships and has planned never to fall again, but love isn’t something that can be planned. It just happens when it’s meant to. Can Aliya outrun a love that seems hellbent on holding tight to her, a love that is Kismet?

If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!! 😘  

As always, thank you so much for reading. ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 

The change within you was instantaneous, and your body fought it like a foreign virus. You’d barely slept a wink the night before. You tossed. You rolled. You took up your phone and hovered over Henry’s contact only to put it back down and toss and turn some more. Half of you wanted to talk to him so badly, but the other half wanted you to practice some restraint. There was no happy middle ground, and because there wasn’t, you struggled to find any peace in your mind. By the time you managed to fall asleep, it was one hour before you had to get up to prep for your day. When you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was a message from the culprit to your sleeplessness himself.

 MSG Henry: Good morning, beautiful. I didn’t sleep a wink. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I must have picked up my phone ten times to text or call you. It’s torture not being able to hear the one voice you want to hear more than anything.

 As soon as you read the words, your heart literally melted, and butterflies filled your belly.

 “Christ almighty,” you whispered as your fingers itched to rapid-fire. Before you could catch yourself, you’d already typed out a reply and sent it.

 MSG: Good Morning to you too, handsome. I know what you mean. I didn’t sleep either. I almost called you so many times. I think you’re addicting.

 You reread the message then groaned at the last sentence.

 “Really, Aliya, addicting?” You rolled your eyes hard and pushed to get yourself ready for the day.

 By the time you’d left the hotel, he still hadn’t replied, and you regretted responding altogether.  So, here you were sitting in one of your four meetings for the day trying to keep your head in the game and your mind off of Henry’s lips, or his eyes, or the feel of his muscular arms around you. It was proving more complicated than it sounded. When you weren’t thinking of his lips, or his eyes, or his arms and kisses, you were overthinking your message and his lack of response.

 A little more than halfway in your first meeting, your phone went off, and you had to make yourself slow down and not leap for it. Nonchalantly, you glanced at the screen and saw Henry’s name.

 MSG Henry: Addicting, huh? I like that, but you should not be talking. I have been addicted to you since the day you bumped into me.

 Any worries you’d had the last few hours melted away, and a smile spread across your face.

 MSG: Do tell me more, Mr. Cavill.

 Barely a minute passed before another message came in.

 MSG Henry: I would rather tell you while looking in your eyes so you can see the depth of which I mean them in my eyes.

 You bit your bottom lip and closed your eyes. He was different alright, you thought.

 MSG Henry: I’m sorry it took me this long to reply. I’m trying to finish up all business between today and tomorrow. I had to hide my phone from myself, or else I would have been messaging you this entire time.

 You couldn’t lie. That felt good to know that he was having as much of a struggle going about his typical day to day tasks as you were. The knowledge of that comforted you, but it also worried you. This thing was still so new. For the duration of your meeting, you texted on and off. It continued as you moved to your second and third meetings, and by then, your focus was shot. The only thing you cared about was what he was saying.

 You loved how open he was. He always found a way to describe to you just what he was thinking or feeling while still remaining mysterious enough to have you wondering what he felt and thought. It was interesting. You’d always been able to predict every man that tried to enter your life. You could predict their motives, what tactics they’d use to try to weasel themselves in, and you often could predict how things would end. With Henry, you’d been having a difficult time with those predictions. It bothered you.

 By the time you got back to your hotel room, it was nearing seven o’clock. You wasted no time putting your phone on silent to concentrate on a little self-care beginning with a soak in the jetted tub. You did your best to keep your mind open to allow the meditation track you played to really work at loosening the knots in your shoulders and tension in your neck. The stress of your life, mainly from work, was really beginning to show. It had always shown, you just never listened to your body whenever it told you to slow down or take it easy.

 Many of your friends and family teased you that you lived to work instead of working to live. There were times you were inclined to agree with them because you didn’t need to work so much to maintain the lifestyle you were accustomed to. You had more money than you knew what to do with. You could afford to take time off to recharge but, you’d lived with the belief that the less time you had to be idle, the better it was for your mental and emotional health. Idle hands, after all, were the devil’s playground. You’d grown so accustomed to working nonstop that you didn’t know how to just do nothing.  

After almost two hours in the bath, as you walked into the bedroom, you saw your phone light up. It was an incoming call from Henry. Sighing, you plopped onto the bed, trying to fight back the smile that wanted freedom. The smile won the battle.

 “Hello?”

 “Did I wake you? I called earlier but--.”

 “No, I’m awake. I put my phone on silent and took a long bath,” you clarified.

 “Ah, that sounds relaxing. Maybe I should try that. I’m feeling this burnout more and more.”

 “Those who are serious about their craft work too much.”

 Henry sighed softly, and you wondered if there was a hint of mint and Guinness on his lips.

 “I don’t want to work tonight,” Henry declared. “Tonight, I want to be with you.”

 You dropped back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. “Oh, do you now?”

 “Yes,” Henry confirmed, his voice dropping in baritone. Your belly fluttered, making you press your palm against it.

 “Have you eaten?”

 “I haven’t,” you breathlessly replied.

 “Good. I’ll be around for you in forty-five minutes.”

 You sprang upward. “That’s not enough time.”

 “Oh no? High maintenance are you?”

 You snorted and shook your head, hearing the tease and challenge in his voice.

 “Forty-five minutes then, just don’t get mad when I don’t look like pictures in magazines,” you quipped.

 “Come as you are.”

 Your reflection caught your eye. Because you’d gotten your hair slightly wet in the tub, it was now in a half natural half blown out state, making you look crazy. You doubted forty-five would be enough to tame it.

 “See you soon,” you said before hanging up to focus on getting yourself together.

 Forty-nine minutes later, you were dressed and on your way down in the elevator. As it made its way down, you assessed your appearance, thankful you were able to straighten your hair again to add a few loose curls. Part of you hadn’t wanted to bother, but you knew the dress you were going to wear would be better complemented with a sleek look. Your eyes skimmed the half sheer and half bodycon black dress you wore, loving that it was the right mix between sexy and classic. You added another layer of your mauve tinted lip gloss and just in time for the doors to open.

 It didn’t take long for you to spot him sitting in the lobby where one of the big-screen TVs were placed. He was watching a rugby match. You crossed the black and white designed tiled floors and approached behind him. When you dipped to his ear, his scent almost had a moan escaping you—almost.

 “Either, no matter where you are, you gravitate to rugby, or I took too long,” you whispered.

Henry turned, and the moment his eyes landed on you, a dumbfounded look washed across his face. You tried not to bashfully look away as you watched his jaw drop when his eyes took in the full view.

 “Wow.”

 A giggle that would have been nauseating from someone else slipped from you, making you press your fingertips to your lips.

 “You’re breathtaking.”

 You smiled, then gently tapped his chest.

 “Stop.”

 “I’m being completely truthful.”

 Those damn butterflies made their presence known once again.

 “Thank you,” you whispered.

 Henry held out a single peony to you. “For you.”

 As you took it, your smile widened. “Wow, one of my favorite flowers.”

 “Is that so?”

 You nodded.

 “Hmm, happy coincidence,” Henry replied as he stood and buttoned his suit jacket. Once done, he held out his arm for you. “Shall we?”

 You nodded and looped yours with his, ready for whatever the night brought on.

  -Henry-

As you sat across from him under the hanging flowers and dim lighting of the restaurant perusing the menu, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. It could have been the way the golden light bathed your skin, giving it an almost glowing aura. Or it could have been the soft smile pasted to your subtle painted lips. It could have even been the spell of the restaurant, the classical music playing, and the sweet scent of flowers that surrounded the two of you. Whatever it was, he itched to touch you, itched to get closer, and itched to do nothing but find a way to keep a smile on your face.

 “What?”

 Realizing you were now looking at him, he smiled back at you.

 “Nothing.”

 “No, no. That’s a something look,” you said, still not able to not smile.

 “It’s nothing,” he repeated.

 “Henry, seriously. What is it?”

 You reached out and gently slapped his hand, then rested it on top of the table.

 “Nothing, really. It’s just—I can’t seem to keep my eyes off of you,” he admitted.

 Your smile slipped, revealing a serious expression for a few seconds before you smiled again and dipped your head in a bashful way. Unable to keep his hands to himself any longer, he closed the gap between your hands and took yours.

 “Your parents must be proud to have raised such a charming son.”

 He smiled, then shrugged. “She has five of them.”

 “Bless her heart,” you added, making him chuckle.

 A comfortable silence drifted between you as he enjoyed the softness of your hand in his and the way your warmth mingled with his. He could get used to this, he thought to himself. When the waiter returned to the table to pour the chosen wine into your glasses, you pulled your hand away, but he didn’t take offense.

 “So, by this time next week, I will be off the grid,” he said after the waiter walked off again.

 A quizzical look swept across your face.

 “Off the grid? Are you a spy?”

 He smiled. “I promise I’m not.”

 Another waiter approached the table, this time carrying your selected third and final courses. He thanked the waiter as he laid the plates before you before he retreated.

 “You were saying,” you prompted, lifting your dinner fork from the selection of three different ones to your right.

 “I’ve earned some much needed R&R.”

 With your fork paused at your lips, you smiled. “Oh, that’s great. Congratulations. When was the last time you took a holiday?”

 He watched you chew and quickly got lost watching your mouth. It took him several seconds to regain his train of thought.

 “Eh-em, uh—perhaps a year and a half, if we are talking about a true holiday.”

 “Wow, that’s a long time.”

 “What about you?”

 You smirked, then scoffed. “Define holiday.”

 He returned your smirk then rested his knife and fork atop the braised beef on his plate before he replied. “Time off, no work, nothing that you have to worry about that can cause stress,  anxiety, or tension. Oh, and of course, sleeping late, drinking until three or four in the morning, fun every day, and feeling refreshed upon return.”

 You smiled as you finished chewing. He watched you take another sip from your glass and knew the wine was only making your lips even sweeter than they already were.

 “Ha! Jeez, when you define it like that, it’s been years upon years,” you replied.

 “Not good at all.”

 You nodded. “Tell me about it.” A soft smile was still on your lips as you placed another forkful of the pan-seared sea bass you were eating.

 With those words, a thought formulated in his mind, and it was a thought he wondered if he put words to would you be receptive. The remainder of dinner passed comfortably. Another reason why he couldn’t stop thinking about you and enjoyed being around you was because your conversation was always excellent. There was never any form of discomfort or awkwardness between you. You easily talked about so many things, and the things you said were always thought-provoking and intelligent. While everyone thought you were just a pretty face, you’d repeatedly allowed him to see that the world knew nothing.

 His hand was rarely without yours in it, and when he held your hand, you softly raked your fingernails against the palm and fingers. Every time you did it, the goosebumps that raced across his skin sparked a reaction that was visible much, much lower than his hand. Everyone else in the restaurant could have disappeared for all he knew because you’d captivated him and every single one of his senses.

 By the time you left the restaurant, it was close to midnight, but you didn’t seem to care what time it was. You held onto his hand as you walked along The River Thames. He often did this late at night when he couldn’t sleep. It was really the only time he could come and not be bothered or recognized because he was more than likely the only one there. Tonight your laughter danced through the air, and the gentle ebb and flow of the water only helped the glistening light from the bridge and neighboring buildings shimmer that much more. It was quite romantic.

You stopped and pressed your back to the iron gating that kept pedestrians out of the river. You stretched your arms out, leaning back as if to really enjoy the gentle breeze.

 “It’s a beautiful night,” you sighed out.

 Just like that, he drifted closer to you until there were only a few inches between your bodies. When you came upright again, your smile was still bright, even realizing he was so close.

 “Are you trying to push me in?”

 He smiled and shook his head. “Never.”

 “Oh no?”

 “No,” he repeated, taking another step to you.

 You bit your bottom lip then sucked it into your mouth, and he became even more painfully aware that he hadn’t sampled them since the night before.

 “Unacceptable,” he whispered.

 “What?”

 Reaching out, he cupped your jaw and slid his thumb across your cheekbone while he slowly traced every inch of your face to his memory. When his eyes met yours, he fell another foot or two deep into the quicksand-like pit of his growing feelings for you. He was so close to going under it was alarming.

 “It’s unacceptable that I haven’t tasted your lips in over twelve hours.”

 He heard a soft gasp escape your lips, and it was the only sound you made before his lips pressed to yours. The only move you made was to entangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. The feel of your fingers against his skin brought those familiar goosebumps. He moaned, then pulled you flush against him. The feel of your body against his made his heart thump rapidly, and when you moaned against his lips, the need to consume you took precedence.

 When he delved his tongue into your mouth, he was shocked when you swirled yours around his, and the sensual move had him pressing you firmly against the iron behind you. It was out of character for him to do this so wide in the open, but he felt himself doing things that no one would ever guess he would do when he was with you. Your soft nibbled on his bottom lip brought his mind back to the rising dilemma, rising being the operative word.

 Pulling his lips from yours, he rested his forehead to yours. Both of you didn’t speak; instead, you were both lost in trying to catch your breath. Long moments passed, and in those moments, he fought to regain his composure. He’d never reacted to anyone the way he reacted to you.

 “Come with me,” he whispered, his voice shakier than he’d expected.

 Your eyes fluttered open, and he didn’t know if it was wishful thinking, but he swore he saw actual stars in them that put the night sky to shame.

 “Where?”

 “Away on holiday.”

 You pulled back a few centimeters and gazed into his eyes more intently. He watched them dart from his left eye, then to the right and back again. Slowly the stars vanished, and humor replaced them.

 “Good one,” you said before you laughed out loud, pulling your body from his.

 “Oh my god, you really had me going for a second,” you said through laughter.

 You took two steps as if to continue walking, but he laced his fingers with yours and pulled you back before him. You gasped, and the sound of it made him close the space between you again, pressing you onto the iron bars. With his body pressed to yours leaving no evidence of there being two bodies, you moaned, and the sound almost had him capturing your lips again. If he did though, he didn’t know if his hands would remain respectful.

 “I wasn’t kidding.”

 Your eyes were on his lips, and the desire for you to take control, almost overrode his desire to be in control—almost.

 “What?”

 “Come on holiday with me, just the two of us, a beach wine somewhere—anywhere.”

 He saw the moment you realized he was as serious as a heart attack.

 “You’re serious,” you reiterated.

 “More serious than I’ve been about anything.”

 You didn’t speak for the next minute, but you also didn’t move away. He decided he’d give you the time to consider it.

 You scoffed before you spoke. “What? Henry—we can’t.”

 “Why?”

 You gaped at him as if he were insane.

 “Why?” That was when you pulled away from him and took a few steps sideways while still leaning against the gate. “We—we don’t--.”

 You looked as if you were wracking your brain for a response, but you also looked like you were trying to catch your breath.

 “We don’t know anything about each other.”

 He took a step to you. You didn’t move.

 “Which is why a private holiday would aid in us getting to know each other—uninterrupted without the pretexts,” he replied.

 Your eyes widened before you shook your head then turned to face the water. You peered out silently, baffled. “Henry—we can’t.”

 He approached you, and as he leaned against the gate, you looked at him. “Tell me why,” he requested.

 “Why—because—I—I don’t do—that,” you stuttered.

 “What holidays?”

 He saw the exasperation wash across your face before it went blank. You stepped away again, then cleared your throat.

 “I have an early flight out tomorrow.”

 It was hard not to feel the rejection, but he hid it the best he could. Nodding, he held out his arm for you to take.

 “Then let’s get you back to your hotel.”

 The entire ten-minute walk, his mind went from one thing to the next. He worried he’d come on too strong, or that he’d said the wrong thing, or somehow offended you. Then he went back and forth with his decision to even ask you. Part of him felt like maybe he was jumping a little too far ahead, but the other part of him felt there was nothing wrong with inviting you especially based on how things had gone the entire night and the vibes he picked up. That made him wonder if he’d read the evening entirely wrong.

 When he stopped with you in your hotel's lobby, he was in no hurry to ask you again. He’d begun to feel quite stupid. His hurt feelings needed the night to recover. He took your arm from the crook of his elbow and held your hand. Again, you didn’t pull away. Deciding he couldn't afford to give you the time to, he lowered your hand and stepped away from you.

 “Thank you for dinner.”

 “T—thank you,” you said barely above a whisper.

 He nodded and debated his next move. He took a timid step forward and kissed your cheek.

 “Have a safe flight.”

 “Thank you.”

 This one was a whisper.

 “Good night, Aliya,” he breathed out before he quickly kissed your forehead then walked away out the door and down the street without looking back.

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

***If you want to be tagged/untagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!***

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[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Home Sweet Home: 112 Ocean Ave

Summary- 2.6k Andy Barber x You. You and Andy almost have it all, married and with a jointed family consisting of Andy’s teenage son Jacob, as well as your two younger children John and Cassidy. Looking to add another member, your family is in need of a bigger house, a forever home. You find just the place, 112 Ocean Avenue in Amityville Long Island.   Home Sweet Home

Written for @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho​ Spooky Scary Stories challenge. Divider by @firefly-graphics​

Warnings- swears, implied smut, mentions of murders. 

A/N- I chose Amityville Horror for the challenge because its one of my favorite Spook Stories growing up. When reading you will find a lot of similarities to the 2005 Movie, some of the scenarios and dialogue are specifically from that film. Other parts of it are from the book itself. The family name was changed for my own personal reasons. Happy Haunting!  🎃

Masterlist

You scrolled through your phone, double checking the address. “Andy it should be up the next couple streets. Lakeside.” You couldn't hold back the excitement in your tone, and Andy hit the blinker to turn down Ocean Avenue. 

“Babe, don't get too excited.” Andy tried to talk reason with you, his fingers thrumming on the steering wheel. “If it's too good to be true, it probably is.” 

You shifted over as much as you could, the Audi middle armrest keeping you from curling up into his side, but you could rest your head on his bicep. “Come on Andy, this might just be what we've been looking for. Good school district, excellent location, nice neighborhood, enough room for all three of the kids.” 

Andy tilted his head a bit to look down at you, his eyes softening around the edges as he finally smiled, you were so excited for this that it was hard not to match your enthusiasm. His hand released the steering column to take your hand, weaving his fingers through your hand, he let your hands rest against his lap. “You know Y/N, if this place is as big as what the pictures show, we could finally try for our own baby.” 

Wiggling your brows, you nuzzled his arm before sitting up. “I know Andy, why else do you think I want this place. Five bedrooms. It's perfect. Jacob can have a room to come home to when he comes and stays with us when he's not with Laurie. Cassidy and John each have their own bedrooms, and future little Barber Bean will have a cute nursery.” Your voice wandered as your gaze turned towards the window, watching beautiful homes pass you two by. Homes you never would have dreamed possible, million dollar homes on a lake. When you got the ping on your phone for 112 Ocean Avenue being lowered in price, you dreamed about the possibility of it. Then it lowered again, and you started to get hopeful. Then this last price drop, taking off another $30,000 dollar, you squealed in bed. Effectively waking Andy with a jolt, startling him. 

Now here you were, going to look at what will be your dream home, the perfect home. The forever home for you and Andy. Andy would probably scoff at you just knowing this, since he didn't believe in fate. But you did, fate after all was how you met the DA in a bar when you both needed each other in a dark time, and had fallen in love. So fate now was leading you here, to your and Andy’s new start in life. It could be a dream come true. You had enough belief for both of you.  

Suddenly a big white house filled your vision, and you glanced at the address on the GPS. “Andy, there it is! Look at it.” You said excitedly, and Andy slowed the car, pulling to the curb to lean a bit into the passenger side, looking out your window to gaze at the house, giving a small whistle. 

“Okay Sweetheart, I agree. This place looks nice. Too nice, are you sure that price is right?” 

“Yes, I double checked with the realtor when I called them last week. It's really the right price.” 

Andy straightened in his seat, and turned into the long driveway. “That true Honey, this is the deal of a lifetime.” 

You grinned excitedly, just about bouncing in your seat. Andy’s hand reached over, sliding his hand along your thigh before taking your hand, weaving his fingers with yours and giving a gentle squeeze. You knew that he was also excited now. 

When Andy pulled up to the house, the realtor waited for them on the front steps, clutching her phone to her chest and gave a smile. The kind a dealer who's looking to make a fast sale gives. “Welcome, I had hoped you all would be able to find the place easily. Magnificent isn't it? Built around 1910, the foundation is original, but all updated while keeping its original charm. Shall we go inside?” She dangled the keys and you with wide eyed enthusiasm nodded. Andy draped his arm over your shoulder, nodding in agreement. 

The realtor showed them right inside, bustling them inside as she shut the door. “As you see, lots of beautiful lighting, the kitchen has been all updated. The marble counter tops were just installed not even two years ago.” She clasped her hands together and kept a smile plastered on her face while you and Andy wandered into the entrance of the house, looking around. Andy’s head tilted back while looking for any kind of possible damage while you took a step or two on the stairs, and leaned against the banister. “What are you thinking Andy?” you wiggle your nose at him, and he glances at you, you can see him hiding a smile, and he stuffed his hands in his pockets, humming lightly while looking around once more before answering. “The entrance way looks nice, spacious. But I want to look over the rest of the house.” 

“Of course, if you come this way to the sitting room. Perfect for get togethers, children's sleepovers, family game nights. Do you… two have any children?” she flashed a toothy grin, and you wandered away from Andy a moment while he addressed the realtor. “Yes, Y/N has two smaller children, and I have a teenage son.” 

“How nice! Then this really would be perfect for living a family life.” she continued on while Andy followed her in, you waited a moment, then stepped away yourself, going the opposite way. You could still hear the realtor's voice, but you paid no heed. You already knew that this was home. You already could see yourself with a new baby on your hip, redecorating room by room. Andy would be able to set up a home office to work from. You might even be able to write that book you wanted. The kids would settle in, Jacob could come home on weekends from college, holidays the whole family could get together and everything you were picturing was the dream. 

Your dream and you hoped Andy's dream as well. 

Your fingers slid along the cool marble counters once you reached the kitchen, and looked around at the new appliances installed. You grasped the large kitchen sink, and peeked out the back window to see the lake view, catching your breath. Large old maple trees adorned the lake edge, and there was a boat house at the end of the deck. Could this place get any better? 

“Y/N?” you heard Andy coming up from behind you, the click of heels against the floor told you the realtor was right on your husbands tail when he entered the kitchen. Looking around, he gave a low whistle of approval. “Nice.” 

You spun and couldn't hide the grin. “Isn't it? Andy…” You gave a soft whine, and he hugged around you, shushing you in your ear a moment before turning towards the realtor. 

“Basement? I plan on converting it into a temporary office for now until we're settled.” Andy asked and the realtor turned around and opened a door, flicking on a light. 

“Go on ahead and look around.” She looked down the dark stairs and took a cautious step back, her voice wavering slightly. “I’m- uh- gonna just stay up here.” 

Andy walked past her, and you followed him, the both of you going down the stairs. Once you both got to the bottom, Andy looked around all the corners. It seemed dry, clean, and had all the usual things that made up a basement. “Yup, it’s a basement.” 

You leaned onto him a moment and chuckled. “You sound so excited Mr.Barber.” 

Up above them, the realtor said in her overly cheerful voice. “So what do you two think?” 

Andy arched a teasing brow and looked you up and down. “I think you look foxy in that skirt.” 

“Andy!” you hissed as you pushed lightly against his chest and started back up the stairs. He was right behind you and his hand slapped against your backside teasing before you two came back out in the kitchen. 

The rest of the tour went decent, the upstairs had more than enough bedrooms for everyone, closet space, the works. Even now Andy was getting a bit more on board with the prospect of buying this house, and you were sure he was going to give in. Your tour ended back in the main foyer, and Andy excused you two to talk a moment. He pulled you into the living room, sure to give you two enough space not to be overheard. 

“You really want this house Y/N?” his hands reached for yours and weaved your fingers together. “It will mean some sacrifices, because it's still on the high end of our price range, but we can do it.” He assured you, and you shuffled a foot back and forth while thinking about it. 

“I want to, Andy, I feel like this is the right place for us. It has everything we wanted and then some. I can see us being happy here.” 

That was all it took, Andy gave a smile and nodded in agreement, and you couldn't help the excited yelp, jumping into his arms, hugging around his neck and legs around his slender waist. The realtor with a look of panic came running around the corner of the entrance and put her hand to her chest in relief. 

“Were all happy then?” 

You grinned happily as you slid back to the floor, and Andy wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “I think we're ready to put an offer on it.” 

“Well, let me call my office and see about drawing up some papers.” She seemed to be relieved, and once you all were ushered outside, she closed the door firmly. Andy walked down the path a short ways, and turned around to look up at the expansive house, his hand rubbing at his beard in a thoughtful way. The largest purchase he’s made so far, but something was still bugging him about it. 

“Okay, what’s the catch with this place? I looked up what other listings go for in this area. None of them are nearly in such a nice location, or this size, and they are twice the price of this house.” When the realtor hesitated, Andy cleared his throat. “By law you're required to tell us if anything has happened here we should be aware of.” You suddenly could feel your heart sinking a bit at the realtors' crestfallen face. 

“Okay… There was a tragedy- a family was murdered here.” You gasped and the realtor continued. “But that was a long time ago, everyone in the town has moved on. Plus it's a house, a beautiful house just made to have a family in it and become a home. Why let one bad time ruin your decision? You will not find a nicer home in the area, that I can guarantee.” 

Andy took a deep breath and looked up at the house again, and you tugged lightly on his jacket. “Can we still? would it be too weird to live in a house where a family was murdered?” 

“Baby, it's not the house's fault. House’s don't kill people, people kill people. Trust me, I've worked enough cases to know.” Andy glanced down at you. “Would you be able to be okay with it?”  

You let it sink in, and you never had to find out the details honestly. You didn't want to know, you just couldn't let your dreams slip away by something that happened in the past. 

“Let's do it Andy, we can make a better story for this house. Our story.”

Later that night, you and Andy have just told the kids that they were indeed buying a house, and showed them pictures of it. After the two smaller ones were in bed, you and Andy were curled up on the couch, watching a tv show. Jacob was nearby on his phone, looking at the pictures he asked you to send him earlier. 

“This house is huge, way bigger than this one or the one Mom has.” Jacob happened to remark, and Andy nodded. 

“It really is Jake, and it's by the college you want to attend. Y/N and I were talking about it on the way home, and if you just wanted to stay with us rather than live on campus, you would save lots of money.” You nodded in agreement while Andy continued. “No rent, you just gotta help around the house a bit.” 

Jacob looked thoughtful at the offer you and his father was making, and he finally nodded. “That actually would be great guys, thanks. At least the first year.” He went back to his phone, and you hid a grin against Andy’s arm, both of you pleased that he was so eager to take up the offer. He might not be your son, but you cared for him just as much as either of your children. 

Jacob soon yawned and stretched. “Catch y'all in the morning.” 

Andy gave a nod and you yawned sleepily as well, but opted to stay right where you were. “Night Jakey.” You said, and he gave a wave as he headed up the stairs to the bedroom he shared with your son. 

It was quiet for a while before Andy kissed the top of your head, and you looked up at him. “Excited Baby?” 

You bit your lip and shifted to sit up more, pushing him back against the couch, and lifting your leg over his to straddle him while cupping his face. “Want me to show you just how excited I am Handsome?” your brows wriggled and his hands gripped your hips gently and tilted his head. 

“Think we're not going to get caught?” Andy said in a hushed voice and you tilted to look up the stairs, noticing all the lights were off. 

“We’re safe.” You giggled and covered your lips with his, brushing up against him with a soft moan. 

You were more than happy to show him just how excited you were. 

Later that night, when everyone was sound asleep, Andy eased out of bed, sure to make sure you were covered. Making his way down to the kitchen, he grabbed his laptop and started it up while moving to sit down. Quickly he pulled up google, and typed in the new house's address. Whatever happened wouldn't change his mind. But Andy liked to know what exactly he was moving his family into. 

What pulled up was horrific. Pulling up crime scene photos of the family who lived in 112 Ocean Ave years ago, he wasn't shocked to see splatters of blood across the master bedroom that would soon be yours, or the torn apart children's beds with holes blown through the mattresses. It wouldn't be the first time he's seen this kind of evil in the world with his work. Rubbing his hand against his chin in thought, his eyes scanned through the article. What he wasn't expecting was the oldest Deffor son, 24 named Ronnie was the killer.  

He had gone through with a rifle at 3:30 in the morning, starting with his parents and then moving onto his siblings. “Oh god.” Andy muttered as he read the details logged, the man claimed he was told to by a demon. Pushing back from his seat, just staring at the picture of Ronnie being taken out by the police, Andy couldn't look away from his eyes, bloodshot and wild. They bothered Andy to look at, imagining how terrified the children must have been to see their brother staring at them like that, from the end of a rifle. Reaching over to close the laptop, and cut off the pictures, he sighed. 

People kill people, the house is perfectly fine. Telling himself this, he put away his laptop and went back upstairs to join you again. You muttered in your sleep and eased back into his arms. 

[irisofpurple]

Hi there! This week’s newlywed’s round will be a short one (but hopefully a fun one). This week we’re playing:

What Would They Rather?

Note: The setting is back to Ethan x MC being married/together. They have to guess what their partner would choose from the options. Dialogue is entirely up to you!

MC, what would Ethan rather?

Beer or Wine

A Cruise or Camping

Horror Movie or Chick Flick

Stay at home or Go out in the rain

Get up early or Stay up late

Ethan, what would MC rather?

Cook dinner or Do the dishes

Diamonds or Pearls

Live in the city or Live in the country

Walk on the beach or Dance in the club

Travel overseas or Explore locally

MC, what would Ethan rather?

Beer or Wine

Lana: If those are the only choices, he'd definitely pick wine. I'm trying to get him into Team Beer but it's hard to get him to drink anything other than his fancy scotch.

Ethan: *smirks* More like she's Team Scotch now.

Lana: *rolls her eyes* I've always been a whiskey girl, long before I met you but I'm not as obsessed with it as you are. Also, I couldn't afford the fancy stuff in my college days so beer was my best bet.

Ethan: I'll admit beer isn't the worst choice but..

Lana: Oh my God. Approval! After all these years! Victoryy! *gets up and does a victory dance*

Ethan: *shakes his head and watches her with an amused smile*

A Cruise or Camping

Lana: Definitely camping.

Ethan: *beams at her* Lana is a nature lover. We went cruising on our honeymoon in Paris which we definitely enjoyed a lot, but the camping experience when I proposed to her remains far superior and closer to our hearts.

Lana: Sleeping under the stars.. feeling like we're the only people on earth.. it was magical.

Ethan: Indeed. But not more than you.

Horror Movie or Chick Flick

Lana: *thoughtfully* I'd say horror because I've caught him sneakily watch me play Resident Evil 7.

Ethan: *blushing in surprise and embarrassment* That's- that's because the protagonist character is called Ethan.

Lana: *smirks* You must've watched quite a bit to even know that.

Ethan: Hrm.

Lana: *bats her lashes at him* Would you fight a haunted house full of monsters to rescue me? Even if I was turned into one of them?

Ethan: *angrily* Why would you ever say such a thing?!

*softens and laces his fingers with hers, looking into her eyes and swallowing*

Ethan: You know I'd go through hell and back for you. I- I've been pretty close to losing you once, I hate to even think about it.

Lana: *kisses him passionately* I love you. I'm so sorry.

Ethan: *gently kisses her forehead*

Lana: *wiping away tears and perking up* You know this reminds me of the first time you took me to the Opera, the story of Damarion and Alessandra. You held my hand and narrated their tragic love story to me.

Ethan: You held my hand while I was trying to be a gentleman and help you understand it.

Lana: Same thing. *pecks on his cheek*

Stay at home or Go out in the rain

Lana: Stay at home, while it's pelting down outside. It's the perfect mood for our favourite adult activities. *winks*

Ethan: Why get wet like that when there's a perfectly nice shower in bathroom?

Lana: That's it. The next time there's a downpour in Boston, I'm taking you dancing in the rain.

Ethan: No.

Lana: Come on. You'll love it, I swear. It's the best feeling.

Ethan: I'd rather stay home and not catch a cold.

Lana: You won't. I'll convince you one way or another. Just you watch. *smiles devilishly*

Get up early or Stay up late

Lana: Get up early, unless I keep him up late. *winks*

Ethan: *blushes deeply*

Ethan, what would MC rather?

Cook dinner or Do the dishes.

Ethan: She hates doing dishes so definitely cook dinner. She's a really good cook once she's learnt the recipe thoroughly.

Lana: But he's far better than me so he's the head chef at Ramsey Mansion.

Diamonds or Pearls

Ethan: She doesn't care much about jewellery but I know she prefers diamonds.

Lana: *singing expressively* Shine bright like a diamond.. Find light in the beautiful sea, I choose to be happy. You and I, you and I.. we're like diamonds in the sky.. *keeps humming*

Ethan: *shrugs with a knowing smile* Yeah.

Live in the city or Live in the country

Ethan: She loves the country but sadly we can't live too far away from work.

Lana: I grew up in my grandparents' farmhouse before dad moved us to Houston. I am not complaining but a country life is much more wholesome and closer to nature. I do love it here in Boston though. Home is where the heart is and my heart is with Ethan so...

Walk on the beach or Dance in the club

Ethan: Walk on the beach. We had a beach wedding at Miami with family and close friends. Beaches have a special place in our hearts.

Lana: I'm not really into the club scene much but I do like hanging out with my friends in the club every now and again. And I love dancing. But given a choice, I'd rather spend a quiet evening in the beach with my husband. Bonus points if it's private so we aren't interrupted if we... *glances at a blushing Ethan* ...get carried away.

Travel overseas or Explore locally

Ethan: Both.

Lana: Exactly. Why choose one when you can have both right? There's always some cool place to discover in town. But travelling abroad is a whole different experience. I have a long travel list and I very much intend to get to the end of it.

Ethan: And afterwards?

Lana: Add more and repeat, of course!

I apologise for taking literally forever to this. I mean this was the shortest ask so far but it took me the longest somehow. Thank you so much Bree for sending these and bearing with me. 💕

Tags: @lem-20 @pixie88 @aleynareads @maurine07 @whimsicallywayward15 @lovingramsey @coffeeheartaddict @txemrn @shewillreadyou @aussieez @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @schnitzelbutterfingers @imaneditorthankyouverymuch @mercury84choices @thegreentwin @adiehardfan @custaroonie @headoverheelsforramsey @dorisz @chemist-ana

[lilyvandersteen]

Fic Writer Tag

I was tagged by @forabeatofadrum (thank you, sweetie!)

How many works do you have on AO3?

I have published 33 works on AO3. Not all of them are completed yet, but hopefully they will be someday. I’m not planning on abandoning any of my WIPs, though it might take a long time until they are completed. I’m a slow writer, and I tend to get bouts of writer’s block.

What’s your total AO3 word count?

So far I have published 626,620 words on AO3.

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

At the moment, I have only written Glee fics, mostly Klaine.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Puppy Eyes. AKA the fic where Blaine is cursed to turn into a dog from time to time. By far the crackiest fic idea I’ve ever had, but I had so much fun writing it, and I guess the readers enjoy it just as much.

Weave Your Magic. My very first multichapter, and still a WIP, though it’s already 287091 words long. It’s massive, and it’s written in a soap opera style that could keep it going forever and ever and ever. I haven’t updated it in years, because to continue it, I first have to read it all the way through again, and that takes me four days. I will continue it when I can find the time, though.

Stop Flirting! This fic started out as a one-shot, and then I continued it for the first Kurt Hummel Big Bang I ever took part in. It’s a famous Blaine fic, with Tina as a crazy fangirl.

Worth the Wait. I love this verse, and it seems my readers do, too :-) This story is very fairytale-like, with magic rings and quests and challenges to prove your worth.

A Shoulder to Lean On. This is a meet-cute oneshot that resonated with many readers. Featuring an obnoxious Rachel, an embarrassed Kurt and a smitten Blaine.

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I do, yes. I absolutely love getting to talk about plot points or providing some background information that never made it into my actual fic. Also, seeing as I don’t always wait until the story is complete to start posting, I draw inspiration from my readers’ comments to add some stuff they request or to expand certain parts. That’s what I love so much about fanfiction: that it is truly a two-way street. Readers are as vital to the experience as writers are, and I am so grateful to my faithful readers for their help in shaping my stories.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Uhm... I write happy endings, mostly. I have a few fics that are pretty open-ended, but never angsty.

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

As of now, I haven’t written any crossover fics. I have written a Pride & Prejudice inspired fic, though (Out of the Blue), but that doesn’t really count as a crossover.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not so much hate, but I’ve received comments and reviews that shook me up and made me stop writing for months. I don’t deal well with criticism, I’m afraid. Fanfic writing is my happy place, so I hate it when people come in and lecture me.

That’s why I stopped writing Never Saying Goodbye to You for so long. One anonymous reviewer raked me over the coals because a movie star I mentioned in passing was wrong for the time period. “ If you want to write a story that is historical in nature, please do your research and get your facts straight.”

Whereas I was just trying to write a fun time-travelling story, and the time period my protagonist ended up was just the background for me. My friend @hkvoyage researches everything meticulously for her historical fics, and kudos to her for that, but I’m not that kind of writer. I have very limited time to write, and I don’t want to spend it doing research, nor should anyone expect me to. I’m not writing a master’s thesis in history, I’m writing a fanfiction story for my own amusement, and sharing it with you so you can enjoy it as well. If I get anything wrong, feel free to point it out and I’ll modify it, but there’s absolutely no need to get angry with me.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I do occasionally. It’s not really my thing. Fluff, I can do, and some angst here and there, but smut is difficult to get right.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

That’s possible.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Oh yes, by the wonderful @klaineship2, one of the few Tumblr Klainiacs I’ve met in real life. She’s absolutely lovely, and she translated one of my fics into German.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, I haven’t. I’ve betaed and suggested dialogue or plot points, though.

What’s your all time favourite ship?

Klaine. *Happy sigh*

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Hmm, I have my mind made up to finish all of my WIPs, even Weave Your Magic. It might take me ages, but I will.

What are your writing strengths?

Does writing from several POVs count? You should ask my readers, I don’t really know.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I’m a pantser. I know how the story begins and ends, but the middle is always a muddle, and I need to piece it together like a puzzle.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I’ve used French in at least one fic. I’ve also used a sentence in Russian.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Glee. The one and only.

What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

Ooh, that’s a difficult question ... There are bits and pieces of myself in every fic, so I love all of them. I love Weave Your Magic because it’s my first multichapter and just a story I can live in. I love Worth the Wait because it’s so much like a fairytale. I love Puppy Eyes because it’s cracky and fun. I love Out of the Blue because it heavily features the Anderson Bros and because I’m a big Pride & Prejudice fan and it was a great challenge giving this story the same enemies to lovers vibe. I love The Christmas Guest because it’s Fake Dating and that’s my fave trope. I could go on and on, but you get what I’m saying :-)

I’m tagging @hkvoyage @caramelcoffeeaddict @lady-divine-writes @quizasvivamos @whatstheproblembaby and any other Klaine writer whose name escapes me at the moment and who wants to do this. No pressure, though, if this is not your thing.

[youngclaire]

One Last Final Goodbye

I rewrote sending Claire back through the stones at the end of book 2 but from Jamie's POV. I thought it would be a nice way to ease myself into writing these two. This is very book compliant, I actually bad the book open next to me whilst I wrote this in order to translate it from Claire's POV to Jamie's and it was a lot of fun. It's not a copy of the fuller chapter, it's been shortened down in places but the essence is there. I've also removed bits and pieces. Uhh yeah...all dialogue in this belongs to Diana and the book I'm just responsible for remixing the words. Anyway, I hope whoever bothers to read this likes it :)

(This is also my first fic in this fandom with these two so don't expect it to be perfect, it probably isn't)

- - -

He wouldn’t stop for anything; not food, water, or rest. He keeps the horse at a constant gallop at all times, scared that if he paused or hesitated for even a moment he would lose all courage and go neither back or forward.

I shall see my wife safe, is a mantra that keeps him riding. If he is to die tonight or on the battlefield tomorrow, he would not take her down with him; not her or the innocent being she carries inside her.

The stones come into view just above him. A cursed salvation of granite and Jamie tries not to see them, his gaze fixated forward. Behind him, Claire lets her displeasure be known, protesting against the idea. Jamie steels himself against them, clenches his jaw and gallops harder, fighting the urge to give in. This was the only way to see her safe and unharmed, he tells himself.

She protests still, even while he urges her up to the ruined cottage. She doesn’t realise he has no intention of parting with her right now, he just wants time to breathe, to think, to let the panic and worry abate. He sinks to the ground, his body cold and his mind racing.

“It’s alright,” he thinks he hear himself say. “We have a bit of time now; no one will find us here.” He shivers, though from the cold, and wraps his plaid around him.

God, he could still see it; Dougal’s lifeless eyes, the blood pooling out of him, the shock on Willie Coulter’s face. How long before everyone knew? How long before everyone found out he had committed familicide?

Jamie’s head falls forward onto his knees, a tiredness washing over him, fatigue clutching at his bones and eyelids. Tired as he was he could not sleep for fear of the images in his mind’s eye.

His breath comes out in ragged pants and he can barely stand the sound of it. He feels Claire’s warmth and presence beside him, uses it as something to anchor himself to.

What happened in that room and who knows wasn’t the priority, while Claire had yet to explicitly say so Jamie’s fate waited for him on Culloden Moor. Tomorrow he will die and all this will cease to matter. Claire will be safe.

His breathing eases back into its natural rhythm, the panic wilting away from the edges. He’ll take hold of Death’s hand, gladly accept his destiny knowing he did one thing right at last.

“I won’t go, Jamie,” she says, as if she’s read his thoughts. “I’m staying with you.”

Jamie shakes his head. She couldn’t persuade him, he couldn’t change his mind. He needed to do this.

“No,” he says. The firmness bites at him, makes him wince. He hopes she can hear the gentleness that lies beneath it. “I must go back, Claire.”

“You can’t,” she cries. “Jamie, they will have found Dougal by now! Willie Coulter will have told someone.”

Aye, that was a fact he had resigned himself to, a fact she must resign herself too as well. He grieved for Dougal, for the second father he had, but Jamie had done what he’d done- he would take whatever consequence waited for him behind that door. She talks of fleeing to France but it’s no use, he’s chosen his fate, set his heart and mind to it, accepted it. A traitor twice over, a rebel, a murderer…The English will hunt Prince Charles. The English and the clans will hunt Jamie. He was dead either way.

“Claire, I am a dead man.”

He watches the tears freeze on her cheeks. “No,” she says but the effect is lost, she knows he speaks the truth.

“I wouldna get very far anyway.” On its own accord, his hand runs through his red hair that makes him a beacon at all times. Not exactly inconspicuous. “I can save you, Claire,” With his other hand he brushes away the tears that continue to fall. “and I will. That is the most important thing.”

Then he will go back. If he finds he cannot do it for himself then he will find it in him to do so for his men.

“I think I can get them away,” he says thinking the plan through. “Even if it’s known what I’ve done, none will stop me wi’ the English in sight and the battle about to begin.” The plan visualises in his mind and he nods to himself. “I will bring them safely away and set them on the road toward Lallybroch.”

“And then?”

Well…wasn’t that obvious?

“And then I will turn back to Culloden.”

He lets out a breath, strong and final as his decision. He catches Claire’s worried look and gives her a smile.

“I’m no afraid to die, Sassenach,” he says, but then he thinks of that door, black and foreboding, the unknown behind it. “Well…not a lot, anyway.”

He hears a sound a human being should never be able to make as arms fling around him. He finds himself surrounded by Claire, caught in her tight embrace as the scent of her overwhelms him. He clutches her back, trying with all his might not to succumb and cry.

“It’s all right, Sassenach,” he says into her hair as she cries once more. “A musket ball. Maybe a blade. It will be over quickly.” A lie, they both know it, but Jamie will them both to believe it. He’s seen men die in battle, knows how horrifically slow it can be but it was better than waiting for the hangman’s noose, that would be the one thing that does not lie behind that door.

“I’m going with you.”

Lost in thought he barely registers it but when he does he reels at the notion, startling backwards.

“The hell you are!” He has a plan, damnit, and not even Claire will deter him from it.

She displays her argument but he will not listen to it, will not give it thought.

“No!” he says. “No, Claire!”

How could she suggest such a thing, knowing what they both knew? How could she be so selfish?

“If you’re not afraid, I’m not either. It will…be over quickly. You said so.”

You said so. What he said was a lie, did she not see that? A lie to comfort them both.

“Jamie- I won’t…I can’t…I bloody won’t live without you, that’s all!”

He had a thousand things to say and none at all. His mouth opens and closes before he shakes his head. Through the gaps in the ceiling he can see daylight dwindling, night approaching. The sky is painted red. Blood of a battlefield, blood of childbirth.

He reaches toward her, pulling her close. He knows where this fight comes from, if the tables were turned he would say the same thing, knows because he feels it too.

“D’ye think I don’t know?” His voice is soft, a whisper. “It’s me that has the easy part now. For if ye feel for me as I do for you- then I am asking you to tear your heart out and live without it.”

She lets out a whimper, clutching him closer. He fingers stroke her hair, whispering soft coos towards her.

“But you must do it,” he finally says, feeling his stomach twist and turn. “Ye must.”

“Why?” She is angry, considerably so. Confused and hurting. “When you took me from the witch trial at Cranesmuir- you said then you would have died with me, you would have gone to the stake with me had it come to that!”

He had said all that, and to this day, it remains true. He’d have rather died than to be parted with her.

“Aye, I would,” he says. “But I wasna carrying your child.”

The reason he is allowing them to part.

She is surprised, shocked, frozen in place as she looks up at him in bewilderment.

“You can’t tell,” she says at last, shaking her head. “It’s much too early.”

It makes him smile, brings amusement to him.

“You havena been a day late in your courses, in all the time since ye first book me to your bed. Ye havena bled now in forty-six days.”

She hurls insults at him, shocked he even managed to keep track of such a thing during a war but he had for hope they would have a second chance at raising a child and for fear that it would end like this.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” she tells him, rattling off reasons for why she might not have bled. It’s no use, she forgets he’s seen her so before, studied all the tell-tale signs of her body changing, committed them to memory.

“Claire…” His voice is quiet, not sounding like him. “Tomorrow I will die. This child…is all that will be left of me- ever.” He reaches for her hands, needing some part of her to hold. He casts his gaze to their joined hands, running his thumb over her fingers. “Claire, I beg you, see it safe.”

He keeps his eyes downcast while he waits for her answer, scared she’ll say yes, scared she’ll say no. The silence feels long and he shuts his eyes against the twisting of his stomach.

Finally her answer comes.

“Yes.” A whisper in the darkening cottage. “Yes. I’ll go.”

He nods, swallowing back the lump in his throat, hearing the sound of a flower stem snap.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.

After telling her to sleep, she doesn’t sleep himself. Time seemed wasted on that and they didn’t have much of it left anymore. In a few hours he will take her to the fairy hill and part with her forever.

He wanted to rage at the unfairness of it all. To brandish his sword and yell and scream and cry but he knew there was no point to it. He knew that what he had been handed was more than fair, that not many men live the life he’s led and are allowed to be rewarded in such a way.

Lord, ye gave me a rare woman, he had said to her, quoting what he would say to God when he met him. God! I loved her well. He had, he could really say that. He took this woman, in all her unbated strangeness, into his broken hands and within her found company and peace, a place to call home.

She loved me well, too, he adds, watching her sleep for the last time. Content and safe, here in his arms and their fortress of cloth. He had healed him with her touch and love and perseverance. Picked a broken man off the floor and carried him through towards the light at the end of the tunnel no matter the setbacks. She really was a rare woman, his sassenach.

He wraps his arms tighter around her, murmurs a quick thank you in Gaelic to God and to the fairies for dropping her into his life.

Pressed against her, safe in their fortress of clothes, her skin warming his bones, his eyelids grow heavy and he succumbs to sleep as the first inklings of tomorrow break across the sky.

.:.:.:.:.:.

She was gone.

Disappeared in the same manner in which she had appeared. Gone through the stones and back to Frank.

Jamie presses his hand against the stone. The hard granite presses back on his wound, her mark, the letter C, reminding him it was real, she was real.

Her arisaid lies on the grass, forgotten in their haste to love each other one last time. Jamie picks it up, bringing it to his nose, inhaling her scent still lingering on the tartan. Tears fall on their own accord as he prays she made it back, prays that she and the bairn are safe.

A cannon in the distance booms, startling the birds and startling him. It’s beginning.

He is hesitant to move, to leave the place of their last coupling, his last connections to her.

Yet destiny waits for him on Culloden Moor, along with his men. He pictures the thirty men waiting for their laird.

There is nothing he can do for Claire now but there is something he can do for his men.

He kisses the inside of his fingers, presses it to the stone and bids his soulmate one last final goodbye.