#it’s my duty to look after them and I can academically do that

[dykeredhood]

What’s the technical term for “yes I’m steadfast for things that truly matter and otherwise I am ranging from mildly to blatantly suicidal”

[gublerryswift]

omggg ive really wanted to see a fluff fic where the BAU go ice skating as like a team building thing or whatever and Spencer keeps slipping and falling and holding on to the reader its so cute HISJHFSJKD

I'd pick you up and we'd go back in time | Spencer Reid x fem! Reader

just fluff!!

warnings: none

word count: 716 words

a/n: Heey! Just finished this one, it's my first ask (tysm btw!! <3). Hope you guys like it and hope i did justice to what you were imagining for the fic!!

It's the end of December and, surprisingly, you and the team are officially off duty until the next year. You guys decided to go out and have some fun, settling on the idea to go ice skating and then to dinner.

 Much to the dismay of Spencer, which besides being an academic genius, did not have any talent when it came to sports. If it wasn't for the scientific evidence, he would pretty much argue that he was born without the ability to balance himself, so any activity that demanded that skill was his worst nightmare.

"C'mon, spence, I can convince the team to go to your favorite restaurant after!" You said to Spencer over the phone, after he said that he was not going. 

"I don't know… you know I hate sports, I'll probably just fall and annoy you guys" 

"I'll teach you, and you know you won't annoy us. Also, we really miss you." You say, in reality wanting to say "I miss you" but scared that Spencer might pick up on your hidden feelings. 

He reluctantly agreed to go, but he was super nervous about it, scared that he would embarrass himself in front of his friends, or more importantly, in front of you. 

—

It now was the day you and the team had agreed on going ice skating, you put on your cute winter clothes and head out to the rink.

" Hey everyone, missed you guys so much!!" You say, getting close to the group that was standing at the entrance and greeting them all 

"Hi honey, you look stunning" Garcia says pulling you to a hug

"Thank you pen" You say, smiling to her. "Hey spence, i did not actually believe you we're going to come here!" 

"Yeah, me either. But I decided to do some exposure therapy, actually did you guys know that it was idealized by Ivan Pavlov in the late 1800s as part of is conditioning experiments?" - Spencer says, doing his usual rambling that you found extremely adorable. 

"Alright pretty boy, enough lectures, let's get in the rink" Derek says, making the team laugh. 

Upon entering the place, you happily notice that besides you and the team, it was pretty much empty, giving you guys a chance to have fun without worrying about others. You guys all get your skates, and put them on. As soon as you guys step on the ice, you felt a hand holding your arm, you look over and see spencer that looked as if his life was in danger. 

"It's fine spence, try standing up right and walking a bit, I'll be here to hold you so you don't fall down" 

"Alright then, if I die, please make sure my books don't get mold" He says, trying to take a few steps, surprisingly he did not immediately fall down, which gave him a bit of confidence to try and actually skate, also wanting to look tough for you. "I think you don't need to hold me anymore, y/n" 

"You sure Spence? Alright then" You let go of his arm and take a few steps back, still keeping a close eye on him. 

Spencer was able to skate for a bit, but somehow he managed to stumble on his own feet, luckily since you were still close he tried to hold onto your arm, not so luckily, since you did not expect that, you both feel onto the ice. The whole team looked over to you guys, as you stood up and helped spencer to also get up. 

You both we're blushing as the team laughed at you guys

 "hey Reid, at least you fell onto a pretty girl, could be worse" Morgan said, tapping spencer's shoulder and laughing. 

That made you guys blush even harder. 

"Hey spence, you ok? " You say, feeling a bit guilty for making him do this 

"It's fine y/n, falling is part of the fun I guess" He said, not sure he meant it but happy that he got to spend time with you outside the office. 

You spent the next hour teaching Spencer, and honestly you could not be happier, he looked adorable. It was one of the best evenings you had in a long time, and it just made your silly workplace crush worse. You also paid for his favorite desert at the restaurant to thank him for giving it a chance.

[icemankazansky]

Top 5 Iceman Kazansky eras

Oh my God, this is inspired.

Lessee.

In chronological order:

USNA Valedictorian and Most Valuable Player (Varsity Lacrosse and Intramural Sex) Era

Work hard, play hard. Ice did his share of grinding in high school, excelling in academics and balancing as many extracurriculars as possible, but now he's out of his family home, and he can come into his own. Between his Navy work and the extra rigors of playing Division 1 sports, as well as the natural effects of aging, Ice is going to bulk up, lose his puppy fat, and get Stupid Hot. Now that he doesn't have the confines of being a minor living with your parents, he's also going to have the opportunity to slut it up properly. I love this for him.

Top Gun Era

Waist: Snatched. Patience: Nonexistent. He's the best, he knows he's the best, and he's looking his best. Cannot stop serving cunt for a single second. This man is a 24/7 cunt buffet with a heart of gold and a smile made of actual sunshine.

Hot Shot Era

For several years after TOPGUN (probably at least a decade), Ice is going to spend his life as an active duty pilot, in demand and the best of the best. He gets to prove his mettle, hone his skills, and fuck Maverick in aircraft carriers and exotic locales all over the world. I believe they refer to these as glory days. You're doing amazing, sweetie.

Dad Jeans Era

As he ages and is promoted away from flying full time, Ice is going to be less competitive as a reflex. That razor's edge he's maintained so long is going to get sanded down, and he'll become more comfortable with his place in life and the people with whom he shares it, and be more comfortable going without that icy mask, be more comfortable showing his softness. He's going to buy some sweaters. He's going to take some vacations. Maybe he'll pick up some hobbies. He'll buy a bird feeder. He's going to go full DILF.

Growing Old Together

A well-earned retirement for the man who was one of the world's best pilots, one of the highest-ranked military leaders in the world, and an Olympic gold medalist in sex. Sweater Ice is going to enter silver fox mode. He's going to retire and relax for five fucking minutes. He's going to learn to use Do Not Disturb mode on his phone. He's going to install a porch swing on the front porch of his forever home with Maverick. He's going to read books for pleasure, savoring them slowly the way he hasn't been able to in years. He's going to join the AARP and get discounts at restaurants once he's able to eat normally again after cancer and chemo. He and Maverick are going to take long vacations together, just the two of them, doing things they've wanted to do their entire lives. It's well deserved, Admiral.

[stormofdefiance]

True knowledge exists in knowing you know nothing || Dr. Ratio & Socrates

Okay, I legitimately laughed out loud writing that title, but listen. LISTEN.

Ratio's inspirations derive from many sources; from referencing Archimedes's brain-blast in the tub, to being doomed to have his head bonked by Newton's apple ad infinitum in his idle animation, to his ultimate line ('esse est percipi' / 'to be is to be perceived') a direct quote from Berkeley on Idealism - it's apparent that his design nods towards scholars across time periods rather than being a direct parallel to a singular academic.

Nevertheless, just for fun, I've been rotating Ratio and ancient greek philosophers around in my head and have had a great time chewing over how parallels Socrates in particular. I am in no way saying that Hoyo even thought about Socrates while they were designing Ratio, but I thought I'd share my thoughts. I think there are some worthwhile parallels to be drawn that touch on all aspects of Ratio's own philosophy regarding ignorance, the value of knowledge, and his deep appreciation of life. So, let's get into it.

Ratio is interested in humanity and curing 'ill minds with knowledge', that 'to turn a blind eye to the folly of others is not an etiquette, but a wicked worldly practice.' Ignorance is a disease - this is a concept that can be viewed through a Socratic lens. Socrates believed that that virtue and knowledge were impossible to separate from one another, and that virtue could be developed through acquiring knowledge and insight. If knowledge is virtue, then ignorance is vice. In Socrates's mind, no one would rationally choose to do something bad. People might choose to do bad things, but this is rooted in their own perception of the world - as in, someone would only choose to do something bad (for the world, or for themselves) because they believed (erroneously) that it was the right or good thing to do. To Socrates, the cure to this was knowledge: 'There are two kinds of disease of the soul, vice and ignorance.' & 'What does most harm in the world is not sinfulness but ignorance'.

To Ratio, 'If ignorance is an ailment, it is the duty of the scholars to weed it out and heal the universe'. He views his own ignorance as 'filth' that must be cleansed through methods such as reading. He also views knowledge as a method for humans to overcome their problems - 'Another day has passed. If your problem still hasn't been solved, is it possible the problem is you?' & 'You look distressed. Is something troubling you? if so, you can figure it out for yourself.' These statements sound harsh, but they also clue us into Ratio's philosophy - that through self-examination and improvement, one can overcome one's ailments.

Socrates was also known for being a trouble-maker, he was abrupt and tactless and did not care for someone's social standing nor decorum. He was also known for using what is now called the Socratic method, asking a series of questions that ultimately seek to show contradictions in the beliefs of those who posed them, and to move systematically towards a hypothesis free from contradiction. Socrates rarely made assertions himself - after all, he had no wisdom of his own. But he could interrogate others in order to expose their own foibles, much to the embarrassment and annoyance of those around him. He was once described as a 'gnat' chewing on the 'lazy horse of Athens', causing it to wake up and spring to life due to his persistent gnawing and prodding. Ratio also employs the Socratic method - 'I'm asking questions' - and also adopts sophist tactics such as playing devil's advocate and taking opposing sides (with both himself as seen a story quest, and with others as we see with his texts urging us to take up a side so he might debate us). Through questioning and interrogation, upsetting what we consider social convention and norms, we can dispel contradictions and thereby come closer to some form of truth.

To add to this - as highlighted in the replies below - Ratio’s skill ‘intellectual midwifery’ is a reference to the Socratic method. The idea being that Socrates helped those around him give birth to the knowledge that was already within them, rather than treating his students minds as empty vessels for him to fill with his own answers. Again this is beautifully echoed in Ratio - he doesn’t want to tell you how to live your life, he wants you to work out for yourself what it is you need, thus empowering oneself through self-examination and questioning.

Socrates did not believe in writing anything down. He believed that face-to-face communication was a far more effective way of communicating knowledge - which means, unfortunately, what we know of Socrates is primarily derived from secondary sources. Much of what we know about him today comes from Plato's dialogues, and Plato was known for liberally exercising artistic license.

Although Ratio is not dead, I find it interesting that his character story is told exclusively through secondary sources. To quote - '…There are no less than eight documentaries detailing his legendary exploits, and over a dozen memoirs about him. However, despite the plethora of commentaries, none of them seems to provide a compelling perspective.' It's as though there are no surviving fragments penned by Ratio's hand and all we have to go on is through the lenses of other people. This challenges us, perhaps, to try to think about our own interpretation of Ratio since secondary sources cannot be taken as a wholly unbiased account - and once again employing the Socratic method and empowering the reader to come to their own interpretation.

While Socrates left no writing behind, he was interested in spreading knowledge. Socrates spent most of his life in Athens, a city that was, during his lifetime (~470-399 BC), a hotpot of scholars, wisemen and philosophers. Athena, the Greek god of wisdom, was named after the city - her symbol the owl that is also appropriately perched on Ratio’s shoulder. Also in Athens at this time where the sophists. The sophists were a class of intellectuals who were known to teach courses in various subjects - but often for a high fee, and generally centred around the idea that persuasion and the use of knowledge as a tool was more important than wisdom or truth itself. There's some debate about whether Socrates could be characterised as a sophist himself, but, crucially, he is characterised as refusing to take payment for his teachings. He was born a plebeian (perhaps you might describe it as a mundane background.) He was known to dress in rags and go barefoot, speaking to and (often antagonising) people from all walks of life, preferring the marketplace as a center of debate than palaces or courtrooms. I can't help but think of the sophists as similar to the genius society (or at least Ratio's depiction of them in contrast to himself), cooped up in ivory towers and gatekeeping knowledge to the most privileged. He doubts if Herta's talent is always helpful to others, he compares Screwllum to a 'monarch'. Then again, the sophists may in fact be a bit of a parallel to the Intelligentsia Guild - from Ratio, 'when someone is willing to listen to knowledge that is being disseminated and circulated, a price is created'.

Socrates (or at least the Platonic depiction of Socrates) was at one time declared the wisest man in Athens by the Oracle of Delphi. Socrates balks at this assertion - how can he possibly be the wisest man in Athens when he in fact knows nothing at all? This was not a claim made of modesty - he truly believed that he had no wisdom, that he was unsure what 'wisdom' itself even was. Ultimately, Socrates concludes that the only way that the Oracle could be correct is that by actually acknowledging that he knows nothing he paradoxically is the wisest man in Athens. All wisdom, therefore, is rooted in wondering, with wondering only possible if one is open to admitting one's own ignorance.

What I love about all of this in relation to Ratio is that Ratio styles himself as a mundanite. The Intelligensia Guild advocates that 'all knowledge must be circulated like currency' and accepts 'all beings… who seek to learn'. Ratio has no time for the satisfied self-styling of intellectualism, he himself states that 'to speak knowledge, we must first make people realise their own folly.' No one is above criticism in this regard, even himself - again, to quote 'Whenever someone agrees with me, I feel like I must be wrong.' Again, I feel as though he would resonate with Socrates here: 'Smart people learn from everything and everyone, average people from their experiences, and stupid people already have all the answers'. With Aventurine, he is quick to mock his appearance as over-the-top and vapid - once again making it clear his distate for vanity and hollow displays of showiness (albeit he may have been acting for Sunday's sake here. Also, no comment about this coming from a man who runs around in a toga, lmao) Equally, with Aventurine, it is clear that Ratio is willing to learn from him - he apologises when he offends, he abhors his methodology and yet he still relies upon it and trusts in Aventurine's plan, he is drawn to him in some ways precisely because he is so different to himself. Aventurine (at least styles himself) as impulsive to Ratio's slow and steady methodology, Aventurine whose learning has been entirely self-made vs Ratio who has spent his life in classrooms, Ratio who scoffs at Aventurine's favourite games of chance yet adds slot machines to his simulated universe. And to Socrates, the experience of aporia – in all of its discomfort and disruption – is the very catalyst of wonder, and that wonder was not just the root of wisdom but also the way to live a good and happy life. There is something beautiful in this to me, and this extends to Ratio. Ratio fundamentally cares about life. For all his brashness, his lashing out against 'idiots', his harsh demeanour - he wants people to live good lives, he wants to contribute to the good of humanity - all people, even those he is annoyed by, he cares so profoundly and absolutely about life. The entire reason why he is obsessed with wisdom and learning is not to exalt or elevate himself, not as some kind of ritualistic expression of piety towards a deity, but it is instead an expression of devotion towards life itself. Ratio has a strict work out routine not so that he can show off his body, but because living healthily is living well and working out is a component of that. Even the way he fusses and worries about Aventurine, someone he is pointedly irritated by, reveals how deeply his care runs. So so much of his character is centered on caring for life, even if it is not immediately obvious.

Finally, I'd like to highlight some ways in which Ratio is not like Socrates. First of all, Socrates was repeatedly described as 'ugly' by fellow philosophers Plato and Xenophon - this is contrast to Ratio being repeatedly described as 'handsome'. This is an interesting subversion to me (albeit likely an indulgent one) as in both cases both men attempt to distance their physical appearance from the weight of their words. Ratio wears the bust for many reasons, but way to view it is that he is attempting to stop his appearance from bearing any influence in the subject of debate.

Socrates was also said to be blessed by a divine touch, and as we know, this is something that agonises Ratio as Nous has not yet turned THEIR gaze towards him.

Lastly, Ratio has - thankfully - not yet been ordered by the state to drink hemlock for all his trouble-making and blustering. Though perhaps he may someday be put on trial by the IPC if the theories that he is working alongside Aventurine to undermine the corporation are true - we will just have to wait and see.

Thanks for reading my little ramble. I'd be super interested in anyone's thoughts if they'd like to share, but regardless, I'll leave off on some of my favourite wee quotes from the Rat man:

'Even a life marked by failure is a life worth living - it is only in moments of solitude and despair, when help is absent, that fools grasp how to pick themselves up.'

'Do stay alive. I wish you the best of luck.'

[thatfeelinwhenyou]

KINDRED — 35

It’s your final year of highschool, and your only goal is to graduate top of your cohort, as usual. Except as student council president, your advisor can’t seem to leave you alone. What happens when you take Decelis Academy’s top student, their star athlete and put them in front of a camera?

smau + written (2.1k words)

❥･• episode 35 — live my life on my terms

With the persistent urging from your concerned friends, who've been expressing their worry about your well-being, you decide to head home to freshen up and grab a few personal items before returning to the hospital, hopefully before Jungwon wakes up. The anticipation is filled with more dread than fear because you're well aware of what awaits you. As you leisurely stroll along the familiar sidewalk, you begin to mentally prepare yourself, rehearsing your comeback to the lines you expect your mother to say upon seeing you.

"This is not like you, what happened to my once-behaved daughter."

"Look at what that violent boy did to you."

"Your future is more important than some high school fling, Y/N."

In some ways, your mother has a point. You have indeed changed, but whether for the better or worse isn't something she should unilaterally decide. It's a pretty subjective matter if you think about it. True, you're no longer the academic prowess that effortlessly intimidated your peers.

In that process, however, you've gained the ability to express emotions, to breathe, and to savour the intricacies of life that are exclusive to your youth. It’s not fair and unjust for your mother to try and take those experiences away from you.

Arriving home, the familiar scent of the place wraps around you like a comforting embrace compared to the smell of bleach and cheap air fresheners. The house echoes with memories of a time when things were simpler, and you were the dutiful student everyone expected you to be. But now, as you unlock the door with the spare key hidden beneath the mat, you feel the weight of recent events pressing on your shoulders as you step through the threshold.

The once-familiar haven now feels like a foreign space—from the walls adorned with academic achievements to the shelves of neatly arranged trophies, you witness a past that no longer wholly defines you.

Your call for your mother echoes through the living room, where an eerie atmosphere hangs in the air. She’s not home.

Before heading back to the hospital, you take a moment to freshen up. After a quick shower and a change of clothes, you gather a few essentials into a bag, hoping to slip away without encountering your mother's potential reproach.

Not wanting to keep Jungwon waiting, you swiftly descend the stairs to gather the remainder of your items. You’re not even certain if Jungwon is even awake, yet an inexplicable desire relentlessly pulls you back to his side. The amusing twist is, he hasn't even formally asked you out, leaving you in suspense about how you'd respond if he did. Your relationship with Jungwon lacks clear labels, perhaps defined vaguely as "friends who kissed," but nothing more.

Rounding the corner into the living room, you're taken aback to find your mother seated stoically on the couch. The room seems to hold its breath, charged with the unspoken tension between you and her. Her eyes, weighed down by heavy bags, lock onto yours, unveiling a profound depth of concern and emotion.

As you stand at this unexpected crossroad, you know there is nothing you can do to avoid having this conversation with her. So, you decide to stand firm as you greet her.

“Didn’t think you’d be coming home so soon. Why? Did you finally realise what I meant? Did he leave you?” There she goes again with her assumptions.

You sigh as you bring your belongings up to your chest and say, “Actually, I came back to grab some stuff before going back to the hospital.”

“Hospital? Why would you go there?”

“Jungwon. He’s hurt.” With a smirk playing on her lips, your mother scoffs. “Well, that’s where you’d expect a kid who fights every day to end up, don’t you agree?”

“He got hurt because of me. Don’t speak on situations you don’t know about, Mother.”

Your mother's eyes narrow, and a snide remark escapes her lips, “Hurt because of you? Sounds like a troublemaker. You always did have a penchant for attracting problems.”

You take a deep breath, your patience tested. “He's not a troublemaker. He's someone I care about deeply, and he's going through a tough time right now. I don't need your judgment.”

The atmosphere in the room grows heavier, but you stand your ground, refusing to let her negativity seep into your convictions. Your mother, sensing your defiance, continues with her disparaging comments about Jungwon, questioning your choices and the people you associate with. Yet, with each hurtful word, you find the strength to assert your boundaries.

“I won't let you belittle him or undermine my decisions. Jungwon is important to me, and I won't allow anyone, even you, to tarnish that.”

Your mother, surprised by your assertiveness, falls silent for a moment. Your brazen defiance is a scene she hadn't expected to happen, ever. As she comes face-to-face with this newfound persona in you, an epiphany strikes her—you've grown up. Much like your father before, it dawns on her that you, too, are preparing to leave, not just physically but emotionally, for someone else.

“All I ever wanted was the best for you. Why can’t you see that, Y/N?” Her voice carries a mix of desperation and frustration, as if grappling with the reality that her daughter is becoming her own person, separate from the mould she had envisioned.

You meet her gaze with a level of maturity she didn't anticipate. “I appreciate that, Mom, but I need you to understand that what's best for me may not align with your expectations. Jungwon is going through a difficult time, and I want to be there for him.”

Your mother's eyes soften briefly, but the resistance is still there. “You're throwing away your future for someone who might not even be there for you in the long run. Your father did the same, and look where it got him.”

Your resolve remains unshaken. “I'm not Dad, and neither is Jungwon. I can't let fear dictate my choices. 'Don’t let anyone step on you'—isn’t that what you always reiterate?”

She sighs, a mixture of exasperation and resignation. “I just worry about you, Y/N. It's a tough world out there, and you're making it even harder for yourself.”

You take a moment, choosing your words carefully. “I appreciate your concern, Mom, but I need to live my life on my terms. I hope you can find a way to support that.”

As you utter those words, a poignant silence hangs in the air, carrying the weight of unspoken expectations and the subtle shift in the dynamics of your relationship. The room feels charged with the acknowledgment that you are no longer the girl she once shaped to fit her ideals.

The faint sound of a clock ticking highlights the passage of time, and in that moment, you’re reminded of Jungwon laying on the hospital bed, possibly waiting for you. You cast one last look at your mother, her eyes reflecting a blend of worry, bittersweet nostalgia, and a mother's unconditional love, before turning to walk out the door.

As you are about to leave, you catch sight of your phone, untouched and nestled atop the shelf for your taking. Your mother remains silent, watching as you pocket the device, likely lost in her own thoughts. The door closes behind you, marking a departure not only from the house but also from the expectations that have bound you for so long. The next chapter of your life is unfolding, and you’re determined to face it with courage and authenticity, even if it means challenging the expectations of those closest to you.

You can't help but ponder how things might be different the next time you step foot in this house, or if there will be any change at all. Perhaps, despite your earnest expressions, the essence of the house will persist, unaffected by the sentiments you shared today.

Yet, you consciously push these musings aside, acknowledging that worrying about potential outcomes serves no purpose at this moment. Instead, your attention pivots to the immediate present—your journey back to the hospital, where Jungwon patiently awaits your return

It's late morning when you stroll back into the hospital. Jungwon is already out of bed, looking way more refreshed than he did the night before, but your heart aches when you see the brusies covering his otherwise perfect features. As he catches sight of you, his eyes light up, as if the whole world suddenly brightened with your presence.

The vibe between you and Jungwon is undeniable, and it doesn't go unnoticed by the others in the room who voluntarily exits to give you two space. Well, everyone except Jay, who has to be pulled out of the ward by Sunoo, giving you a cheeky wink before closing the door.

“Hey there, I was looking for you.”

“I know.” You slide into the seat beside him on the tiny hospital bed, a space Jungwon graciously made for you. Stretching your legs out, you playfully nudge his feet with yours. You feel his gaze on you, intense and longing, as if he senses something weighing on your mind and is patiently waiting for you to open up.

“I had a chat with my mom earlier today.” He stays silent, listening attentively as you continue, “It was a much-needed conversation, but now I'm worried that I might have said some things that hurt her. I just can’t shake it off my mind.”

You look to him, seeking advice. Jungwon's eyes soften, and he reaches out to gently hold your hand. “You did what you had to do, Y/N. Your feelings matter too.”

He squeezes your hand reassuringly, offering a small, understanding smile. “If there's anything I've learned from all this, it's that you can't control how others react. You can only be true to yourself and hope they understand eventually.”

Leaning against the side of the bed, you let out a sigh. “I hope she does, Jungwon. I don't want to hurt her, but I also can't keep suppressing my own feelings.”

Jungwon nods in compassion, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand. “Give it time, Y/N. Emotions take a while to settle. In the meantime, I'm here for you. Whatever you need, I’ve got you.” His support warms your heart, and with a grateful smile, you rest your head on his shoulder, taking comfort in his presence.

Jungwon’s words resonate as you recognise the profound truth in the realisation that changing someone's entire mindset is no quick fix—it's a gradual process that takes time and unconditional efforts.

As you contemplate these thoughts, you come to accept that, even with all the time in this world, certain aspects may remain unaltered. It's a reality that demands compromise, a delicate balance of understanding and being understood. You acknowledge the concept of mutual comprehension without the imposition of force, hoping that, in time, your mother will come to understand that too.

As your mind grapples with a flurry of thoughts, Jungwon is also caught in a whirlwind of emotions, his attention laser-focused on the spot where your head rests on his shoulder. It’s evident you’re not the only one pondering the line between you two, and contemplating the boundaries you have crossed as 'friends'.

In this quiet moment shared in the hospital room, Jungwon turns to you, and his eyes reveal a warmth that speaks volumes. The air around you changes, and he takes a deep breath, as though summoning the courage to express what's on his mind.

"Y/N," he begins, his voice soft yet resolute, "there's something I've been wanting to ask." You can already sense the direction this conversation is going, yet you decide not to hold him to any expectations just in case it doesn’t.

"I've been thinking a lot about us, about what we are," he continues, the sincerity in his voice echoing in the room. “And if what happened yesterday didn’t already make it clear to me, it is now. I like you, a lot.”

“Y/N, will you let me be your boyfriend?”

The vulnerability in his question, the openness in his eyes, tugs at something deep within you. A mixture of emotions swirls in your chest and you take a moment to savour the weight of his words and the unspoken connection that has brought you to this juncture.

The hospital room, with its muted sounds and sterile surroundings is a stark contrast to the little bubble that the two of you are in. Your heartbeat syncs with the soft hum of machinery, creating an anticipative symphony that accompanies the unfolding scene. Finally, a soft smile plays on your lips as you reply,

"And will you let me be your girlfriend, Jungwon?”

The soft kiss that ensued undoubtedly sealed the deal.

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♡。·˚˚· ·˚˚·。♡

authors note: i have nothing to say but sorry… 😔 also this chapter is dedicated to user beomsbeanie, not sure if you’ll see this but if you do, tysm! you have blessed my life too 🫶 side note: KINDRED IS ALMOST COMING TO AN END!

perm taglist. @hajimelvr @s00buwu @urmomssneakylink @grayscorner @bubblytaetae @mrchweeee @artstaeh @sleeping-demons @yuviqik @junsflow @blurryriki @bobabunhee @hueningcry @fakeuwus

taglist open! @uuzhanggggggg @jayhoonvroom @missingemobeomgyu @jiawji @ocyeanicc @s7noo @asterizee @nwjws @noascats @yunwonie @saturnmooonxx @enhaz1 @jiaant11 @clairecottenheart @i2lain @miumiuoi @zhounauts @hoey2k @neocockthotology @nanuer @yenqa @ahnneyong @chanhee-hee @yanqiiuver @yujmelon @beomsbeanie @sloobydooburmomjungwon @keiisu @jaeyunniesimp @jiamini @jihanniee @lilriswife4life @en-flirt @i-yeseo @aloloveswonie @plutoslostagain

[deny-the-issue]

Autumnal Reaping

Chapter One: At First Glance

Chapter two

Overall Summary: While researching a topic you hold close to heart, you meet Emmrich Volkarin in a chance encounter. He introduces both romance and academic opportunities into your stagnant life as an unknown, sinister shadow lurks from beyond the Fade.

This story is set after the events of the game where Rook does not romance Emmrich. There will be end-game spoilers, although they are not discussed in detail.

Thank you to my wonderful friend for beta reading, @juniper-sunny <3 I'm sitting on the finished second chapter already, and I cannot wait to post! I'll probably set it free in a day or two, but the next updates will be every 1-2 weeks after that.

Like this -> post to join the tag list for this story!

AO3 link

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[MDNI] [Emmrich x you] [Emmrich x Reader] [no y/n] [fluff] [angst] [fat!reader] [reader has boobs and vulva] [eventual smut] [eventual romance] [non-binary pronouns] [angst with a happy ending]

The Mourn Watch is a respectable order within Nevarra, and it is an honor to be a watcher. Yet, to be a part of a respected order and to be respected are two concepts leagues apart, and the latter is far out of your reach. There are worse lives you could be living, certainly, but if you could roll the dice and be someone else–you’d do it in a heartbeat.

A better life is but a blink away, always residing in the back of your mind. While you toil away at your day job, a daring adventure plays out in a daydream, saving you from the monotony of daily life.

Wake, clean, study, repeat.

To clean up after the real masterminds of this place is a privilege to those unable to contribute in other meaningful ways–as Matron Thistle is fond of saying. You could recite the jab in your sleep, and the ensuing spite fuels your day to day grind. It works, you suppose, but this amount of ill will can’t be good for your fragile mental health.

Studying is the only part of your day that is entirely yours. A refuge and a hobby, you research the nature of the Fade, venturing into metaphysics more often than not. There are many theories surrounding the Fade’s properties, but so much is unknown. 

It fascinates you to ponder the different possibilities of what's out there. Looking not only for answers to humanity’s greatest questions, but of other worlds and dimensions. 

Maladaptive daydreaming with your nose in a book is how you spend most evenings, nestled away deep in the catacombs. People never tread these quiet, hallowed halls, and for that, you are thankful. Most people your age have moved far beyond your current status, and your fellow janitors are a rotating door of freshmen having drawn the short stick for work duty. 

Friends are impossible to come by for you, these days. Not that it’s ever been easy for you. Solitude is a solace, allowing you to be yourself unapologetically.

This cozy, abandoned corner you’ve come to call yours has a stone table in the middle of the small room. Its walls are lined with urns containing remains of the unidentified dead, instilling the stagnant air with a chilling sadness. 

The stone walls and floors match that of the rest of the Necropolis, gray bathed in green veilfire. Sand collects in little piles and thin lines along the edges of the room, ever present in these parts. Sweeping wouldn’t do much good–you know from experience. The sand falls from the Fade, and there is nothing anyone can do about it. 

There is comfort among the forgotten–a kind of kinship, even. The wisps in this area have taken a liking to you as well, their shimmering cyan forms with tendrils stemming from a center point gives them the appearance of an etheric dandelion.  

Two of them float and bob around weightlessly to the same beat as your hips, swaying to an unheard rhythm. Too antsy to sit, you stand as you read with your back to the open hallway. Humming and singing errant lyrics absentmindedly, you tear through a text on an obscure theory of the Fade recorded hundreds of years ago. 

Despite life’s general malaise, it was a good day. Matron Thistle ate something that disagreed with her and you had an amazing day without her nagging your every move. You’re so relaxed from the quiet day of work, you could kiss those skeletons on cooking duty. 

A man clears his throat, announcing his presence behind you. You freeze as if you’ve been caught, and turn around slowly. 

“Ah, hello! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” The man clasps his hands together. “It’s rare to find another person among these forsaken souls.”

How long has he been standing there?!

With a perfectly cordial tone, his carefully modulated voice complements his fine clothes and jewelry, giving him a distinguished air enhanced by his crows feet and gray hair. Going from his grave-gold, he is a prominent member of the Mourn Watch, and you adjust your behavior accordingly. 

“Sorry, I can go.” Your book closes with a heavy thud and you hastily grab your bag off the floor. 

“No, please. These halls could do with a bit of warmth.” He smiles, pointing to the wisps with his gloved hand. “They’re quite fond of you.”

“Oh-uh, yeah. They keep me company while I read.” Your fingers trace the intricate grooves of the book cover nervously.

“Personal or academic study? If I may ask.” Interested or nosy, you have the handsome man’s full attention.

The wisps investigate him and you relax a little. They are excellent judges of character, or at least you choose to believe so. The man greets the wisps with the same respectful manner he used with you, and the gesture softens your guard. 

“Personal.” The man’s silence pushes you to say more. “It’s about the possible multi-dimensional properties of the Fade.”

“How interesting! What drew you to that line of inquiry?”

“Uh-just, you know…” you clear your throat and try to string some coherent words together. “I like the thought of other worlds out there. From subtle differences to global changes–the possibilities are endless.”

“Ah, yes! Fascinating to think about, isn’t it? I spent some time in my youth researching multi-world theory. An under-appreciated topic, unfortunately. I can count on one hand the number of sources,” he sighs wistfully.  “I apologize for putting you on the spot. All topics of the Fade interest me, deeply. Learning about its mysteries is one of life’s greatest pleasures.”

With an agenda all their own, the wisps leave the two strangers alone, their ethereal laughter fading quickly. And with them, the little peace of mind you obtained vanishes. 

“What-uh, brings you down here?” you ask, shuffling nervously.

“Ah, well. There is a rumor of a haunting in this area. Have you seen any wandering, restless spirits?”

After a moment of thought, you shrug and shake your head. “Not that I know of.”

“Ah, good. Are you down here often?”

“Mhm. Almost every night.” Your answer seems to satisfy his curiosity.

Anxiety worms through your stomach because you revealed more than you’re comfortable. His kindness is too disarming–or is it because you haven’t stopped blushing this whole time? Are you imagining the connection you feel?

Probably. 

“My rounds should be made with ease, then. Thank you for the riveting conversation. I apologize for interrupting your private study, and I hope you have a pleasant evening.” With a little bow, he makes his exit gracefully.

You manage an awkward, “It’s ok! You too.” Waving nervously after him. 

Why the fuck did you wave. That’s not something you do normally. Place a hot old man in front of you and your brain leaps into the void. 

Looking back at the closed book that held your attention in a vice only moments ago, obscenities leak from your mouth. You didn’t mark your page, and you lack the motivation to find it again. Sighing heavily, you gather your things and head back to your living quarters for the night. 

The jingle of your keys as you unlock the door is outmatched by the growl of your stomach. 

Wishing you could ignore it but knowing you can’t, you drop your things off in your room and follow your nose to the kitchens. The cafeteria is closed this time of night but the kitchens are always open to those who need a snack. 

The sleepless skeleton cooks greet you with excited hisses, bringing a smile to your exhausted face. 

The warm yellow light of the fire is a welcome change from the green-tinted surroundings. Dried garlic and herbs hang from the walls, pots and pans litter the counter tops, and a wooden table rests off to the side with three mismatched chairs. 

You’ve developed a rapport with the regular cooks, teaching them how to add more flavor in little ways. A skeleton with a bow tie brings you a bowl of soup before you can even ask. 

“Oh, thank you, Francis. You’re too kind.” You notice the droplets of orange oil floating at the top of your corn chowder. “You even added chili crisp! You’re the best.”

Happily slurping away with not an ounce of grace, you barely hear the footsteps approaching. 

You place the bowl on the table with a heavy thunk, rake a napkin across your mouth, and turn to face the visitor. 

“Hello again!” he greets. 

It’s the same man from before, but this time he has a skeleton at his side. They are wearing an acolyte’s robe and goggles, which tickles something at the back of your mind. 

You’ve gone twenty years without seeing him in the Necropolis and now here he is, twice in one day. What are the odds?

“Oh, hey! Find any hauntings?” you ask. 

“No restless spirits tonight. Though, I doubt there ever was one.”

“Oh?”

“Several people have reported ghostly singing echoing through those halls,” he pauses, choosing his next words carefully. 

The pieces begin to fall into place through the silence, and embarrassment tints your every move. Eyes cast down, you fidget with your hands, waiting for judgement. 

“You have a lovely voice,” he finishes with a kind smile.

“What?—oh, uh. Thank you,” you smile out of reflex. 

His words are slow to process. Lovely? You count your blessings that you were singing something pretty and not screeching like a banshee. It’s surprising this hasn’t happened sooner, now that you think about it. 

“Manfred!” The skeleton hisses, pointing a boney finger at its chest. 

“You’re right, Manfred! Where are my manners? I never properly introduced ourselves. I am professor Emmrich Volkarin, and this is my pupil, Manfred.” Emmrich steps forward, offering his ungloved hand. 

Your name sounds dingy in comparison with no title or accomplishments to go along with it. But it’s hard to dwell on such things when his hand is warm in yours, skin weathered and soft. 

Emmrich Volkarin. Emmrich Volkarin… 

“Wait—not the Professor Emmrich Volkarin that took a sabbatical to save the world?!”

He laughs, lighthearted and breathy. “The very same.”

You relinquish his hand, cringing. Handshakes aren’t supposed to last that long, but he doesn’t seem to mind. Quite the opposite, actually. 

“What were you singing before? If I may ask,” he inquires.

Caught off-guard once again, you look at him blankly. You should have known he would have questions. 

“Just something that came to mind,” you offer, shrugging.

Please be enough. Don’t make me explain.

Emmrich hums thoughtfully. You’ve disappointed enough people to know the look of disbelief when you see it, but he doesn’t push the topic. Something else catches his attention off to your side.

“Is the soup too spicy for your liking?” he asks. 

“Oh no–It’s delicious! I’ve added chili crisp to my food so much the cooks have caught on–they’re so thoughtful,” you blurt out, all too excited to talk about your newfound way of adding flavor to the normally-dull daily soup.

“Ah–so you’re the mysterious mentor! The Watcher overseeing the kitchens was quite perplexed at the altered menu,” Emmrich reveals.

“...altered menu? Wait–they made it this way for everyone?!” 

Emmrich nods, “I appreciate a little spice now and then, but a Matron admitted herself to the infirmary early this morning.”

“Not Matron Thistle?!”

“You know her?”

Flabbergasted, you look at Francis. Bow tie quaking, he backs out of the room slowly at first, and then skitters away. Laughter bubbles up from your chest, unbidden. You cover your mouth, but you can’t hide the shit-eating grin splitting your face as you devolve into a fit of giggles. 

You’re the reason she was out today?! This puts the cherry on top of your rarely acquired good day. 

All at once, awareness smacks you in the face. You’re laughing at someone's misery in front of an esteemed Watcher. 

Unable to hide the amusement still plain on your face, you place a hand on his forearm, looking at him with wide, pleading eyes. “Please don’t tell her it was me! She already hates me! I promise I didn’t tell the cooks to add it to everyone's food!”

Francis, you betrayed me!

He chuckles, placing a hand over yours. “I assure you—your secret is safe with me.”

The contact makes your heart race. Your eyes flick down to his lips then back up to his enchanting eyes. It was only a millisecond, but you’re worried he noticed.

“You’re sweet,” your mouth moves before your mind. “I mean—thank you!” Shaking off the slip of the tongue. 

Stop it. Why am I flirting??? Who even am I right now. 

With a sassy tilt of his head, Emmrich doesn’t miss a beat. “She’s not my favorite Watcher, either.” 

You share a lighthearted smile and bite your lip. 

Shit. He’s so charming!

He pulls away and you miss the warmth of his hand as the moment ends, wishing for more.

Emmrich hesitates, mulling over something silently before asking, “Would you be interested in having tea with me sometime? It would be my pleasure to get to know you.”

“Me?! I’m not that interesting,” you pause, redirecting your thoughts. “I’d love to!” 

“There is more to you than meets the eye, dear.” Softly chastising, he takes a moment to admire your bashful look. “Everyone is entitled to their privacy—it is not my place to pry. However, I hope you feel comfortable enough to trust me, in time. How does Tea in the Garden sound? Let’s say–noon?”

“Tomorrow?” You ask with a dumbfounded expression. 

Not only does he want to date you, but so soon as well? What does he see in you?

Emmrich nods, “Unless you’re busy, of course. We can always reschedule for another day.”

You typically get an hour for lunch, so you’re eager to agree. If it goes over, you won’t have the strength to end it early. 

But….

What Matron Thistle doesn’t know can’t harm her. 

“Tomorrow’s perfect!” you blurt out excitedly. 

“Yes!” Manfred hisses, his excitement palpable in his raised arms. 

Emmrich’s eyes brighten, shimmering in the dim room. “Wonderful! I’m looking forward to it. Now, please, continue your meal. I am sorry to interrupt you yet again.”

“You can interrupt me anytime.” The words stumble out of your mouth easily, but lose volume by the end as your confidence wanes.

Emmrich takes your hand in his, dipping gracefully to kiss it. “Goodnight, dear.”

“G-goodnight!” you stutter, mind utterly broken from the small token of affection. 

“G’night!” Manfred waves, and you return his gesture with a small laugh.

“Goodnight, Manfred.”

After they leave you collapse back into a chair, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. 

You want him in ways you thought had dried-up long ago. But the water has been set free, careening through the familiar, desiccated paths it left behind. It’s nice to feel desire again, after all this time. But it feels laced with danger–hoping for something you’ve never truly had with a man you barely know.

It’s just a matter of time before he sees in you what everyone else does. Nothing. No prospects, no friends–not anymore, anyway. 

The one friend you had was sent away for causing too many fights, finally earning a prolonged stay in the most dangerous part of the Necropolis. You haven’t heard from her in six months, and count yourself left behind. 

Even through the doubts, you smile as you finish your meal. A warm blush settles across your face that not even walking back through cold halls can extinguish. 

A soft noise pulls you from your reverie. You come to a halt, the ruffle of your clothes fading to silence as you listen. 

The hair on the back of your neck raises, and you start to panic. Eyes darting around the empty, seemingly endless hall for a threat with fisted hands.  

“Mreow!” A black cat emerges from a dark corner, its green eyes matching the surrounding lamps. 

Heart pounding in your chest, you let out a breath of relief, feeling quite silly now. 

“Hi there!!! You’re so pretty!” you coo, all too excited to see a new furry friend. 

The cat rubs up against your leg, doubling back in between them like a figure eight. Its fur glistens in the dark, thick and healthy looking, and its figure is lean and muscular, befitting an outdoor cat. 

“Ooh, thank you! You’re so cute. Can I pet you??” You lean down, offering your hand.

The cat sniffs you for only a moment before rubbing its cheek against your fingers. Cautiously, you scratch behind its ears and your heart melts as it chases your touch, raising its head into your palm, eyes closed.

“Such a trusting lil guy, huh? Do you wanna come home with me?” 

As soon as you think the cat distribution system finally got to you, the cat perks up as if it heard something, and then scampers away. 

Maybe another time. 

Sighing heavily, you return to your room alone with a mind swimming with possibilities and failures. 

You need to get some sleep.

You have a date tomorrow, after all. 

Butterflies flutter in your stomach, threatening your peaceful rest before a busy day. Lazily humming a relaxing tune, you let your mind wander, never staying on any specific thought, and the day fades away to a fitful slumber, plagued by dreams. 

Tag list: @planetahmane, @l0calgoth, @ohlookacow, @severusminerva, @thepalehorsevictoria

@sllverchariot, @mollymauksboi, @haunting-6, @czarzarr, @pwney

@farore05, @fallen---alien, @skiddyyo, @muddiestpath, @nin-dy-tro

@mxfiggs, @godival33, @daddymothmilkers, @charliebear2105

[apomaro-mellow]

Runaway Royalty 4

Part 3

Since the hunt was on, the camp stopped sooner than they had planned, setting up so that they could hunker down and figure out just where to find the lost royals. Eddie was pacing around while the older members knocked around a few ideas. That if all three had truly been kidnapped, it might be by someone with designs on them. But there was also the idea that they simply ran away from their duties.

“If they ran, I bet they went west”, Gareth said. “They’d have enough coin to charter a boat and head off the continent.”

“You think they’d actually go that far?”, Harold questioned. “They’d get tired before reaching the coast.”

Steve was about to take offense to that when he remembered he wasn’t supposed to be one of the lost princes. So he kept his mouth shut. The less he said the better.

“Why are we even bothering with them?!”, Eddie threw his hands up. “Did it ever occur to you lot that once we have them, we’d have to transport them back to their castles? Is that what you want? To play escort to a bunch of pampered pups?”

“We can handle some uppity folk, right Jeff?”, Gareth turned the question to him.

“Oh, yeah, sure”, Jeff rolled his eyes. “They can’t be any worse than our Bandit Prince. You can give them the royal treatment.”

Eddie scoffed, arms crossed as he started to pace again, more furious this time. “I don’t want anything to do with them. Have you heard what they say about Prince Stephen? Spoiled rotten to the core. No thank you.”

Steve stood up straight at that. “I’m sure Prince Edwin is no prize either. If the rumors about him are to be believed.”

Robin kicked his leg. “Don’t believe everything you hear.”

“Let’s get our ears to the ground”, Greenley said. “Someone has to know something about them.”

There was a bit more talk, names thrown around - contacts, Steve surmised when someone told him to go to the river to fetch some water. He frowned.

“Why do I-ow!” He glared at Robin when she kicked him again. The problem was she wasn’t subtle at all. And his ankle was beginning to suffer from it.

“You got away not helping with camp last time”, Gareth said. “Everyone here has tasks to do. And yours right now is to get water.”

Steve frowned. But he remembered Eddie’s words about spoiled Prince Stephen. Someone had to get water for them. And he wasn’t doing anything else. So while he knew nothing about fetching water from a river, he was given a couple buckets and sent off. He got a good distance away from the camp when he heard someone approaching from behind. When he turned, he saw Eddie. The other man barely got out a ‘hey-’ before Steve turned his nose up and walked on, the river not too far ahead.

He could hear Eddie behind him, calling out and trying to catch up. Steve ignored him and stopped at the river’s edge. It ambled along calmly for now. It could probably turn to a raging current after rain.

“Hey, did you hear me calling you? What’s your problem?”, Eddie asked once he got to Steve’s side.

Steve’s head whipped to him. “My problem is-” His mouth hung open and then he snapped it shut. Because how ridiculous would it be for him to be offended on Prince Stephen’s behalf? So he had to switch gears as Eddie looked at him questioningly.

“I’m not looking forward to playing host to Prince Edwin is all”, he said as he approached the river to start filling the buckets.

“Oh. Are you not a fan of His Highness?”, Eddie asked.

“I haven’t really heard anything good about him.” Steve knelt down and let the current fill the first bucket. “I heard he’s always talking over others despite never having anything interesting to say. That he’s notoriously dim-witted too.”

“Well that’s something he and Prince Stephen would have in common”, Eddie said. “If the rumor mill is to be believed, he’s often slow on the uptake.”

Steve slammed the bucket down on the ground, sloshing some of the water and making it spill over the top. He knew that’s what people thought of him. And he knew that he wasn’t as academic as his brilliant sister. But it was still a sore spot that people equated that to being completely brainless. 

“Well then he and Prince Edwin would be a perfect match, wouldn’t they?”

Eddie was scowling now. “I don’t wanna have to deal with them any more than you do. But the pack has spoken.”

“Why did you follow me out here?”, Steve asked, exasperated. 

“Because I know you and your sister aren’t common travelers”, Eddie said, noticing the way Steve tensed up. “I don’t know what you’re running from, but it’s obvious you come from money. And I thought you might appreciate some help.”

“I’m fully capable of putting water in a bucket”, Steve said, going ahead and doing so with the second bucket. Then he stood up, grabbing both by their handles and lifted, hoping the alpha couldn’t see the way his arms shook.

“More hands make for a lighter load”, Eddie said, taking one of the buckets from him. “I didn’t mean to imply that you’re incapable.” This close, he could tell how Steve’s scent went from something sour to something light. It was something buttery and sweet.

“Do you think there’s a true chance of finding them?”, Steve asked.

Knowing his determined crew, they’d make a dogged attempt. There was a good chance they found at least two of the nobles. But Eddie wasn’t about to say something so specific that would get Steve asking about the third.

“I think the royal guard will find their lost wards first. What are they good for otherwise?”

They walked back to the camp and Eddie handed one of the buckets off to someone whose name Steve hadn’t learned yet. He also took Steve’s and Steve felt a bit miffed that the other man carried both off with ease. The sounds of laughter caught his attention and it was none other than his sister in the middle of it.

“Didn’t know your sister was such a fan of Princess Robin”, Harold said through tears of laughter.

Robin beamed while Steve glared. 

“I just think the kingdom is in good hands with her”, Robin said. 

“Is it just because she’s your namesake?”, Eddie asked.

“Now how would that work? She and I are like the same age”, Robin said, squeaking when Steve pinched her side.

“Yes, she’s your name sake”, Steve said through gritted teeth. “Because you were born a few months after her.”

“Does that mean you were named for the princess’ brother then?”, Jeff asked.

“No, Steve here was named for our mother’s previous lover”, Robin joked.

This time when Steve pinched her, he did it openly. His ears burned at the laughs at his expense but it was better than anyone catching on. He hadn’t thought about coming up with a fake identity. His nickname would have been enough of a cover. It became a little less inconspicuous when he was traveling with his sister who hadn’t gone with an alias at all. They really should have spent more time thinking of fake names for themselves.

“Excuse me while I speak with my sister in private”, he said before grabbing her by the arm.

Once they were a good distance from everyone, she pulled her arm away from him and glared. “What’s going on with you?”

“We need to keep a low profile. And you’re chatting yourself up with these people?”, he hissed.

“They’re the ones who brought up Princess Robin. And I’m not going to lie about myself.”

“When you run away from home it’s kind of a package deal”, Steve said.

Robin crossed her arms and cocked her hips. “So I can’t like a royal because people will suspect I’m her? Don’t be silly, Steve.”

“Someone’s going to start making connections if you keep singing your own praises.”

“And you badmouthing Prince Edwin is any different? Keep doing that and people are going to start wondering why you’re so biased against him. Almost like a scorned lover.”

“I can’t be a scorned lover when we were never lovers.”

“Look, they’re not gonna put their greenest members on such a grand scheme”, Robin said, her posture relaxing. “We’ll probably be given chores around the camp. And they can’t find us out there if we’re always here.”

Steve’s tensed up posture began to relax as well and he let out a sigh. “You might be right…”

“Might be? I’m as bright as Princess Robin. And as we all know, her intellect rivals the greatest minds in history.”

“You’re also as insufferable as the princess, whose own brother has described her like a buzzing gnat”, Steve said, turning to walk back to camp.

“And how would you know what the prince thinks, hm? Suspicious~”, Robin teased as they came upon the others. “What’d we miss?”

Eddie held out a cup of sticks. “We’re all drawing straws to see who gets to go into town with Rick to meet up with his contact.”

“They don’t like big groups”, Rick said, his long hair graying on both his head and his beard. “So I can only take two with me.”

They all drew without looking and most opened their hands without much fuss. But there were stakes involved for three of them. So when Steve caught a glimpse of color on Robin’s, he knocked into her, causing her to drop her stick.

“Sorry, clumsy me”, he said, pretending to drop his as well. He picked them both up, switching in the process.

Most didn’t pay attention but Robin could tell what he did. Her face pinched and he stared at her hard, hoping she didn’t say anything.

“Looks like it’s me”, Steve said, announcing his draw.

“And me”, Eddie added, showing his own. 

“Well get ready young buck”, Rick said to Eddie, then looked Steve up and down. “And doe. The next town is a few miles away. We need to get there before sundown.”

Steve nodded and this time Robin pulled him off to the side. “Why did you do that?”, she whispered harshly.

“Because between the two of us, I’ll draw less attention.” Robin had changed neither her appearance nor her name. And they were sure to draw up posters searching for them soon.

“I can’t let you go alone with two alphas!” Robin’s eyes held a very real fear for him and Steve remembered that he had wanted to go alone. He didn’t know how he could have been so cruel as to leave her without a word.

“I’ll be fine. You’ve seen Eddie, he moves like a fish out of water. And Rick looks like a gentle shove would knock him out.”

“Still”, Robin took her dagger from her side and handed it to Steve. “Should they or anyone else have any ideas.”

Steve took it and within the hour, he, Eddie, and Rick were all making the trek to the nearby village. Rick did most of the talking, telling him about his contact. Said he was a real piece of work but also knew more about anything than anyone he’d ever known. Steve didn’t absorb most of it. He reminded himself that Robin was safer in the camp than she was roaming about town. Prince Edwin’s disappearance also weighed on him.

Not that he cared for a man who hadn’t even kept up regular missives with his betrothed. But what had happened to him. He and Robin had run away, but was it possible that the prince had been taken? If so, by whom? He knew it didn’t concern him anymore. Still, if there was someone out to get the royals, that was all the more reason for him and his sister to keep their heads down until they settled somewhere safe.

Part 5

[uniquecellest]

I like movie Moira McTaggert. I dislike how they give her so little sustance but that's also what I love?

"she's charles's love interest" In First Class she isn't given much with Charles (which yay love interest wise bc she can do better and nay in their lame attempt to make them seem romantically compatible) but she and Charles are close in like a best friends way but some other CIA agents assume it's more (they go with it bc 60s) meanwhile she's actually closer to Raven and imo it's Moira not Erik Raven goes to when she wants to know if someone can kiss her without her looking normal, Moira reassures her (Moira tells Hank off later then laughs when he comes in blue and furry before leaving for Cuba in like ironic you wouldn't kiss a naturally blue girl but now you're blue way)

where was she in DoFP which is where I imagine maybe she was there in 63 when Erik got arrested (workoholic bastard *affectionate*) and sure she doesn't remember Erik clearly but she kind of knows him so she may be sticks her neck out and gets him into the underground plastic cell (the other option was death and she just knows that that can't happen. Not only bc of the brotherhood but she vaguely remembers Charles's presence and knows Charles will not handle that shit well) and the reason why her course of action is accepted instead of dismissed or stolen by one of her male colleagues is bc Lady Kennedy spoke up for her, agreed to it, and was adamant in letting it be known that I was Moira's idea.

Then in Apocalypse she and Charles meet again (I'm re-writting the cringe ass meeting). In post DoFP with Charles and Hank re-opening the school he invites her over prior to the school opening that is when he gives her back her memories, she keeps the school quiet. Eventually she out-ranks Stryker and that pisses him off but oh well. Anyways he calls her over to Westchester because he knows something is wrong and she is the main one (aside from Lady Kennedy bc Lady Kennedy was a frequent visitor and writer to Erik) that has kept tabs on him at least where he lives and asks her to try contact him but then Apocalypse happens (Alex survives in my version) they all go and save Charles, Moira goes with Raven and Peter to knock some sense into Erik - in Moira's case literally. idk how but she does. Everything else follows in-verse minus Moira getting her memories back. Turns out Magda and Nina were alive and had been kidnapped but Magda and Erik divorce amicably as he doesn't want to put her in danger again and she has now seen first hand some shit that can happen to and around him. Nina goes to the Xavier school

(I'm making up a different movie in place of Phoenix) in the 90s they find out Banshee and Angel and some others are alive. They find out that the sentinals that killed them didn't kill them but teleported them somewhere else where Amahl Faruk finds them and brainwashes them into working for him. Hank, Raven, and Alex feel as though it is their duty - as the ones closest to them - to bring them back but Amahl is after Ororo and Charles. Hank, Raven, and Alex sneak out when the others are on a field trip overnight in like DC or something. in DC Moira is talking with Charles and Erik about a new mutant disturbance which throws them off as neither have detected any mutants in weeks which startles Moira bc how can the two strongest mutants not know. Amahl then hypnotizes Ororo and Charles - Academic he is still being up - feels that something is off and sees Storm but she doesn't feel right telepathically he calls to her to no avail, going after her Charles and Storm are kidnapped. Moira goes to the DC CIA office to gather Intel on what happened and threatens to cut everyone there a new one (Erik's with her and any beef they have, squashed. She's his bestie now) and with CIA Intel and plane they set off to save Charles and Ororo. (I can make this thing a whole post alone so I'm gonna stop here for now.)

but we still get the Paris proposal (Raven is also alive) Moira and Hank are Charles's Best Woman/Man, Raven is ordaining, with Magda and Angel as Erik's and Sean and Nina as the flower throwers (metal so Erik can reuse them later and make them last longer) and turns out Moira's son is a mutant (which for some explain her advocacy aside from her friendship with Charles) that becomes the ring bearer. And Alex is the first person to give a speech at the reception that makes everyone do a spit take

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

Masterlist

"Masterlist? What is that?"

"it's mostly a record of the writings here, feel welcome to have a look and see if something catches your eye" she turns around and points to the the book detailing where every book or pages should

"last time I updated it was june 21, so it can get a bit behind but usually everything is in here"

"a magical land where people are able to handle elements as they please, a bit too fantastical for my liking but she seems to enjoy writing them"

Tokyo debunker

There is a separate section for this subject, best visit it for the list.

Genshin impact

There is a folder on the table and named with perfect cursive handwriting "Holy offsprings". It seems it's a collection of small works

A bouquet of feelings

Sometimes actions have unexpected consequences. Good thing Aether knows how to fix this one.

Ancient language au

A long forgotten tongue slips away from their lips to the ears of people who believe it's their god's language

Read my lips

"to suddenly be left in a world where I couldn't read anything... Such a torture"

Universal language

After alhaitham found your ability you were almost forced to work for the academia translating works, some misunderstandings arise

Great sage au

A foreign face settles as a country's sage and tries to help, even when it isn't all that easy

Prologue

As a former player the new great sage had a nice base of knowledge to stand on plus some new tools

Such a backstabber

His duty with sumeru has gotten him into a trail leading to you and believes you to be a danger. For some reason the proof he has reminds you of something… wait a minute.

Over tea

Luckily after cyno recognized them as not guilty they were allowed to return to their position and enjoy their new found love for tea. Seemingly the nation's calmness has lead to people allowing themselves to fantasize about their bosses’ love life

Everything feels so beautiful

"this one fits in the timeline but I'm not sure if even the writer knows how or when..."

Secret husband timeline

Be it because of secretiveness or nobody believing it was possible nobody found out about your marriage with the iudex until someone says it straight up. Oops

The first two are two different beginnings

How the iudex sleeps

"why did she choose for him to have a resemblance with otters? Even then it's a really sweet domestic piece"

Melusines say the darndest things

sometimes children can slip up and accidentally say more than desired. In this case the journalists are very happy about that.

Drabbles

Would they peel an orange for you?

"mhmm... I wonder why she chose oranges, I think she likes better pomegranate. Wouldn't it be more fitting 'would they open a pomegranate for you?' but I guess at the end it's the same intention"

Do they know if you wear silver or gold?

"I only ever wear this uniform, I'm not really sure how important that kind of stuff is"

Types of baby daddy

"my father has been a 'baby daddy' many times, including my and my sisters' conception and many of our half siblings. Despicable man. He even runs as fast as the thunders he throws so he is hard to catch"

Your ex in my body or me in their body

"seemingly this question is used to pick a fight with your lover, I'm not sure why would you, though"

Ideas

"some blurbs or unrefined concepts, maybe in the future they can become something more polished"

Npc sagau

"suddenly strangers and your loved ones start acting as mindless zombies and only certain people seem to wake up but you are unable to know when... It sounds stressful doesn't it?"

Living together (npc sagau)

Obey me

"it would make sense for them to live close by the only people you can speak with"

"It's a kind of undefined academic environment in hell? I heard from other visitors that highschool and university are difficult and sometimes unenjoyable but isn't this a bit too on the nose? Either way seemingly she could romance demons, angels and a... Regular human? I'm sure she did not... My goodness"

Night bringer saga

All this happen during night bringer but aren't particularly connected or in a particular timeline!

Love language: acts of service

After being temporarily transformed into a demon you find that there are some gaps in your knowledge of demon features care but Solomon is very happy to help

With the firstborn's ring I made you mine

A before bed chat with Solomon leads to you showing some concerns about wearing the ring of light so openly and he offers himself as a scapegoat

Love language, gift giving

He is old enough and famous enough that he can spend some money on superfluous gift and extra candies as long as you smile at him

The sorcerer's demonic firstborn

Nobody is exempt from Mother nature's cruel whims, not even the all powerful sorcerer that defied death. Some friends of yours help you with your dream

Twisted wonderland

"another fantasy setting that happens in a world where people can use Magic and a school? I'm seeing a pattern with her likings. Just tell me she wrote for a prince or a future king or- it's just a guy with white hair again? No just because he is sleepy doesn't make him different, writer..."

Forced fairytale

The tale of the sleeping beauty is one he holds dear, be it because it's related to his great grandmother or his dorm, malleus can't help but feel like silver and the prefect would be such a perfect modern retelling.

[literary-motif]

I love you writing really really muchh!! 💗

Can u write something with kayson?

Thank you <3 I'm glad you like it :)

Under The Surface

Kayson x Reader

Warnings: implied issues of self-worth, overworking

You overwork yourself, but Kayson is there to take care of you.

You were dead on your feet. The past few weeks of lectures and exams had taken everything out of you, and whatever dregs of strength you had left after handing in your final essay were rapidly draining by sitting at your desk and preparing yet another presentation. 

The professors should be tired of them by now, but evidently, they got some twisted enjoyment out of forcing you to work past your breaking point. 

You sighed, checking your notes again and trying to fit the picture you had found into the little box next to the text. Powerpoint was not cooperating and you were increasingly getting annoyed. You were not even halfway done, and the urge to curl up on your bed and sleep for a week was growing harder to ignore by the second. 

Still. You knew you couldn’t. If you did not finish this presentation now, you were sure you never would. It took all of your self-composure and an iron-tight hold on your sense of duty to sit down at your desk and leaf through the textbook to take notes on your assigned topic. 

It took all you had left to start the presentation, and you knew you would break down sobbing the next time you would have to sit down to finish it. No, it was easier to do it now, and after you would get to relax. After you were allowed to lay down and finally, finally rest. 

After the work was done.

“Hello my spooky Ghost,” Kayson’s voice startled you out of your revision, making you lose the train of thought on how best to connect the subjects on the slides. 

You turned your head and smiled tiredly in his direction, too worn out to even mutter a simple greeting as you faced your keyboard again. You had to finish this.

“Hard day?” he asked softly, walking towards you and looking over your shoulder at the presentation. “Wow, this looks amazing,” he muttered, skimming over the slide you were working on and glancing at the pages of notes spread out next to your laptop. 

Kayson tilted his head to place a soft kiss against your cheek. You could feel the smile on his lips. The sheer joy radiating off of him when you two were in each other's company still had you perplexed sometimes. He was overflowing with love for you, that a simple thing such as seeing you walk across campus, hurrying to your next class while he had a free period, and shooting a small smile his way, had him beaming back at you, his eyes shining with adoration. 

His open affection was something you had not entirely grown used to, and the heartwarming feeling of being loved unconditionally — no matter what you did, no matter the worth of your work, no matter your intelligence or academic career — still had you tearing up when you thought about it too much. 

It was foreign, seeing the worth in yourself outside the things you accomplished. Kayson made you feel comfortable with yourself and helped you to accept the mistakes you would make in everyday life. “Not everything you do has grave consequences,” he had told you once, smiling sheepishly as you noticed a glaring spelling mistake in the email you had sent, “It doesn’t matter, relax. You don’t have to be perfect all the time.”

You knew that, of course. Perfection was an unattainable goal, but your brain somehow had not quite internalized that memo. That was why you had studied relentlessly for weeks.  That was why you wrote half a dozen essays for extra credit. That was why you agreed to do another presentation despite barely being able to string together a coherent sentence, worn out and exhausted out of your mind.

“I got dinner,” Kayson whispered kindly, wrapping his arms around you from behind and resting his head on your shoulder, nuzzling against your neck. “And I hope you’re willing to eat takeout with me while we cuddle on the couch and watch one of these old horror movies you wanted to show me. That sounds nice, doesn't it?”

Humming in agreement, you kept typing. Kayson frowned, loosening his embrace to stand beside you and look at your face properly. Your eyes were dull, your fingers hitting the keys with only a fraction of the accuracy you usually had. The exhaustion he could see in your hunched posture, the tension he felt in your jaw as he kissed you made his frown deepen. He was worried about you. 

“Hey Spooky,” he said, nudging your chair to turn to face him. You did not comply, keeping your eyes fixed on the screen. “Can you look at me for a moment, please?”

“‘M busy, Kayson,” you mumbled, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment to fight off the burning, turning your vision blurry. How long had you been working? It didn’t matter, you were still far from done.

“Yeah, I know,” he said, the slight teasing in his tone was replaced with a quiet sadness that made your heart ache and you sighed softly, giving in to his wishes. Seeing him sad was a pain you always tried to avoid. When your eyes met, he gave you a tender smile, lighting up with his usual fondness for you. “Thank you,” he whispered, reaching out his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

The window behind him showed the darkness of the night sky, making you wince at the hours that must have passed ever since you sat down to continue your work. “Takeout is great,” you said, noting the distant hunger making itself known now that your nearly unbreakable concentration had lessened. “But later, I need to finish—”

“No,” he interrupted you, taking your hand to tug you out of the office chair, “Enough for today. I can tell you’ve been at it for hours, and you’re tired. You look exhausted. I know I call you my Ghost, but that doesn’t mean I want you to look like the dead!”

You tried to protest, but Kayson wanted none of that, sneaking an arm around your waist and leading you towards the couch. “Kayson, I really need—” you tried again as he drew you  to sit down on the soft cushions, making sure the pillows were arranged the way you liked them and the blanket was within your reach.

“Yes, you really need to unwind right now, I agree,” he said, looking at you intently with a stare that told you he would be immensely hurt if you dared to get up and walk back to your desk. 

You sighed, resolve breaking as you sunk deeper against the pillows. It was no use to fight Kayson when he tried to take care of you, so you just let it happen, allowing yourself to relax and trying to push away the nagging thoughts about your unfinished work.

Kayson smiled again, leaning over to place a chaste kiss against your lips before he got up, shooting you another warning glance to stay put. He returned a moment later with the food he had picked up, placing it on the coffee table in front of you before sitting down beside you again. 

“Do you want to watch a movie?” he asked, the care for you bleeding into his every word as he gathered you into his arms. You hummed in contentment as you felt him trace slow circles against your back, working out the tension that rested there. “Or are you too tired? We could watch a show instead and you can fall asleep on me. What would you like?”

You buried your head against his chest, mumbling something incomprehensible. Kayson chuckled, running his fingers through your hair before tilting your chin upward slightly to understand you better. “You decide,” you repeated tiredly, reaching over his lap to grab the takeout.

Kayson chuckled, taking the bag from you gently and placing a kiss against the back of your hand before handing you your food. “I’ll take care of everything,” he said, looking at you with a love so deep reflected in his eyes, that it stole your breath for a moment. “Don’t worry about anything. Just relax, Spooky. I love you. So much.”

[venusxxsstuff]

Court-side connections 𖦹⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

there is so little of slam dunk fan fictions which is a CRIME so I decided to add my own work to the other who worked into this fandom!

A/N this my first time writing a fanfic in English so please excuse any grammar mistakes! I hope you enjoy (๑• . •๑)♡

₊˚⊹ᡣ𐭩

In which coach anzai’s daughter decides that it’s time to help her father with coaching duties. 

˖ ࣪⊹

‧₊˚ ୨1୧ ˚₊‧

“Bye mama, bye dad!” She yelled Walking out of her traditional house door. Looking up to the blue sky she took a deep breath smiling at herself ‘this is going to be exciting’ she exclaimed internally. 

..

Walking calmly down the street to get to her new school. she admired the lovely plants on the side of the rode while swimming in her imagination. 

..

“Good morning” she exclaimed quietly walking inside the quit teachers room. “are you must be anzai-sensi daughter” one teacher with a bald spot on top of his head and rectangular glasses greater her kindly. 

She replied bowing her head slightly while handing the teacher her academic folder “yes, im anzai y/n please take care of me” 

Smiling gently the teacher grabbed the folder and started flipping through it. His eyes widened a bit at her perfect record. He looked at her and smiled again “what an astonishing record, you will be placed in class 1/5 ask one of the students on the hall to lead you there” 

She bowed her head again leaving the room. right after walking out she heard so many people laughing at the same time. Curious she looked at the direction of the sound. Just to be met by a group of 4 people laughing and throwing confetti’s at a tall red headed guy. 

To which the guy responded by hitting them on the heads successfully knocking them out. She cringed a bit at the painful sound of their heads meeting the guys head. 

Shrugging she moved along the hallway to a find a girl with short hair standing with two other girls. She approached them with a small smile, one of the two girls stopped talking when she noticed her standing in-front of them. A little pink dusting her cheeks which made her other friends to follow her path of vision, 

Just for them to have the same reaction as her. 

“Excuse me do you know where I can find class 1/5 ?” 

The three girls snapped out of their dazed when she spoke to them, immediately directing her to the class she’s looking for. Smiling sweetly she thanked them with a slight bow with her head while walking to the classroom. 

As soon as she left their eyesight they gathered again with flustered faces talking about “how pretty she is”. 

…

Reaching the classroom she knocked the door and entered. Introducing herself to the rest of the class the teacher told her to sit in the back row of the classroom next to a guy he called “rukawa” walking elegantly she sat at her assigned seat and got ready for the listen giving the guy next to her a side eye as she noticed him being a sleep ever since she got there. 

… 

After the school ended she sighed to herself and gathered her stuff getting ready to check up on her dad and his basketball team. 

~

and this is like a first/ introduction chapter (?) I hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it!! till next time 🌷

[nextonmy-tbr]

Book Review: Ninth House

Author: Leigh Bardugo Genre: Dark Fantasy

Imagine being thrust into the world of magic and getting to attend one of the world’s most elite universities. Sounds like a dream come true right? But Galaxy ‘Alex’ Stern knows that nothing comes for free and this opportunity sure hasn’t but she will not let this slip away from her hands. At any cost.

But when there is a murder in the campus, it forces Alex to question whether magic is made for her and whether all of this is worth it. This raises a question – will she be able to survive in this world? Will she be able to navigate her way amongst dark spells, new responsibilities, old secrets, shady societies, untrustworthy authorities and growing powers? Read the book to find out…

My thoughts:

The crow series have been one of my all-time favorites. Hence when I saw this book from Leigh Bardugo, I knew I have to read it and let me tell it did not disappoint. As soon as I started reading it, I could not put it down. Tbh this book has everything – a gripping story, badass characters, magic, mystery and a fitting plot twist.

One thing I loved in this book as compared to other fantasy books is that here magic has consequences. When I say consequences, it doesn’t mean just ones where the characters somehow manage to find a loophole and get out of it. Here characters had to face some gruesome and cruel situations for their actions.

If this is not enough to convince you guys to read this book then I hope it will after the end of this.  

Plot:

“If you were going to hell together, murder seemed like a good place to start”

Here you will witness an unlikely plot where the protagonist is already aware of her powers, she doesn't need to learn how to use them; she needs to learn how to protect herself from them. The plot is fresh, dark and intense. The plot revolves around our protogonist trying to find a balance between her truth and her lies, the magical world and normal world, her magical duties and her academics, maintain her true self and her facade. While she juggles around all of this, we see politics, dirty work of the societies, Yale campus, murder and everything in between.

What I liked about the plot is that it consists of lots of elements and this could have easily seemed cluttered but the way Leigh has beautifully weaved the plot, it looks effortless and we'll put together.

Characters:  

“I let you die. To save myself, I let you die”

Alex is strong, beautiful and a badass. She is traumatized because of her past and the bad decisions in her life but is adamant to turn her life around. Her life at Yale gives her the clean slate to do so but her investigation with murder on campus and her secrets can put this life at jeopardy. One of the qualities I liked about Alex is how fiercely loyal she is to her people. She will protect them and stick for them no matter what. There are no limits which she won't cross for the people she loves. She is also a survivor and those instincts can be clearly seen throughout the book. This was the one quality that made me relate to her. There are few questionable decisions she makes, but with her being a survivor it makes sense for her to do those things.

“‘Gentlemen scholar’ seems like a good description for you”

Darlington is one character that I have been dying to talk someone about. If you need to learn how to make presence of a character felt without him being in the book, you will get that from him. He is such a charismatic, snobbish but by far the most adorable character in this book. I think adorable doesn’t do justice and if fictional characters could hear our emotions, Darlington would also feel the same. At first, I was very intrigued by him coz Alex in any of the chapters would just not shut up about him but then I quickly realized Alex, I get it. There is a lot of mystery to this character, where is he, what is he doing, what is he going through right now, why did he join Lethe, does he have any powers? There are so many questions around him, which will be answered eventually in the book. I think that’s what makes him a really interesting part of the book.

Other characters have their own flavours to add to this story. If you are looking for a dark plot, murder mystery with magic and complex traumatic characters with questionable decisions all mixed together in a concoction in form of a book then you know which book to go for. Let me know what are your views on this book and if you have any books in store for me to read or write further reviews on.

[fallingskiesandrisingseas]

Still not over the Poppy War because how could I?

First it is 'you need to succeed academically or be subjected to a life of misery in a forced marriage'. Then it's 'you're worse than everyone else because you are from the South where people are stupid and you talk weird and you have no inherited arts and you're poor.' When that's finally over and Rin is getting used to being at Sinegard, when she's getting used to being taught by Ziya and enjoying being a shaman Sinegard gets attacked, her friends murdered, Nezha crippled. 'Oh by the way you are also the only other survivor of a genocide on a martial race, the only other guy is your commander'.

Before the war is well underway she gets to deal with the massacre of Golan Niis, a traumatized Kitay. 'Yeah there were sex slaves, they were seen as less than human , we threw babies into boiling cauldrons'. 'Oh yeah we are also experimenting on the poor martial special savage southeners to learn the source of their heavenly powers'

Then it's 'the only other Speerly dies, we will call you The Last Speerly as the sole survivor of your race' and immediately after it's 'trauma and the desire to win the war and protect your people will make you do unspeakable things, even commit genocide yourself.'

Second book is a liiiitle easier, but not much, because 'you are getting so addicted to opium to deal with the effects of having to call the fire that you cannot fight anymore' , 'the source of your strenght is your friend, without whom you will not be special' are very close together. Then it's 'foreign people are trying to invade your lands because they deem you inferior' and 'a scientist is abusing you solely because they can, because she doesn't see you as human. Then there is a whole ass war, just before 'you are betrayed by the ones that mean the most to you, like literally a blade in your back' and 'you are now disabled, missing the hand of your swordarm'

And then the grande finale, of course. 'Civil war against former ally' and 'Trifecta coming back to life, my teacher being a war criminal' immediately into 'the scariest one of them trying to kill me the second he wakes up, just like he did with the rest of my people'. Then that war drags on, including 'Cold marches that kill half my army' and 'going back to South to fight with the people whose roots are yours as well' and 'subjecting people to the trauma you went through yourself just to win the war'. Couple that with 'large famine and banditery terrorizing the countryside' and 'large refugee crisis' and 'i don't recognize my family anymore'. When you think it's all over you're hit with the 'no one here trusts me' and 'I thought this person was betraying me but she took an arrow to the head for me', just before 'I need to kill myself for the greater good' and 'my friend does not want to live on without me.' To top it off we need 'oppressors will try to erase us, and we need them so badly we will let them try' and 'Nezha is all alone in the world'

O and you find out as well 'he loved her but betrayed her' and 'duty trumps romance'

Man, look at that list. No wonder I was devastated after that, it's just blow after blow after blow.

[choicesficwriterscreations]

September MC & OCs of the Month - Special Edition: Kennedy Grant

Help us in welcoming September's MCs and OCs of the month! That's right, plural! Most months, CFWC highlights one randomly selected MC or OC from our Meet My MC / OC List. (More info here.) But this month, we're doing something different.

In August, @lilyoffandoms hosted a Writers Appreciation Month, and we announced the September Writer of the Month would be selected from its participants. But all participants agreed - Lily deserved the honor! Still, we wanted to do something nice for the eleven writers who elected to participate to help uplift other writers in the fandom. So, this month, each of the eleven participants will have one of their MCs or OCs highlighted.

We will introduce each MC / OC individually, and once all eleven have been highlighted, a masterlist for the month will be created. We hope you enjoy getting to know all about them!

The eight MC of the Month is @mydemonsdrivealimo's Kennedy Grant!

Learn more about Kennedy below...

In your words, tell us what you like most about your MC. 

What I like most about Kennedy is their “do it scared” mentality. They can put on a brave face for Rutherland, and they have the physical confidence, but when it comes to big, impactful decisions, they tend to second guess. Even if they’re stressed, or worried, or anxious, or scared, they still do it, no matter what it is. While they do put a lot of pressure on themself in this sense, in the end they are proud of what they’re able to do because of it.

Do you feel your MC is like you at all? How are you alike or different?

I would say I’m not really like Kennedy, but we do have similarities when it comes to academics. Kennedy pushes himself very hard in school, always has, which is something I definitely relate to.

As for differences, Kennedy has a lot of the confidence that I don’t. They’re a smooth-talker with an outgoing presence, where I am most certainly the opposite. I admire and love writing that about them, but it’s not something I’d ever want for myself.

What is most important to your MC? What is their motivation in life?

For a long time, Kennedy would’ve said Rutherland; whether that be attending to their duties as the first child, keeping the peace with other countries, etc. etc. etc. But, as time goes on, they start to care a little more about themself. This is one of their best pairing points with Blaine. At first, the differences between the two of them set them apart, but as they got to know each other better, they started to appreciate those differences. Blaine doesn’t give two fucks about anyone forcing him this way or that, and isn’t going to start anytime soon. He helps Kennedy to focus on themself and their own wellbeing before trying to worry about an entire country. 

As for their motivation, it’s making society more accepting. They know how crude people can be when it comes to interacting with those different from themselves, and spreading information in a positive view is something they believe can remedy some of those rude and entitled people.

What are their biggest pet peeves/dislikes? 

One of their biggest pet peeves is definitely people who choose to stay ignorant despite many resources available for more factual information. They’d never fault someone who doesn’t have the resources or time or money to access that information, but when there are other educated diplomats and politicians who outright refuse to accept facts into their rhetoric, they won’t put up with it. 

If your MC could change one thing - anything - what would it be? 

Making (accurate and factual) education more accessible for all. He handled a lot of those elements in his mom’s campaign/presidency, and it’s something he’d like to continue with.

What is your MC’s favorite quote or song? 

After an embarrassing amount of time looking for the right song, I have to go with Dance by Clairmont the Second (which may or may not have been on my favs list all along, but anyway,,). It’s fun, it’s funny, and that’s exactly Kennedy’s style. They can be hard on themself, yes, but they’re happy to let it all go for the sake of a good time. They have a decently healthy balance of work and play, and something fun like that song fits them perfectly.

Is there anything else you’d like to share about your MC: (It can be why you created them, how they’ve inspired you, or you could write a little blurb as if it is coming from your MC - an acceptance speech. :) ) 

Joining the Choices fandom on Tumblr was absolutely why I got into further designing/exploring Kennedy’s character. I’ve loved them since I played Foreign Affairs, but seeing more creations/posts about it around Tumblr got me super inspired to further create and develop them. I’ve had a more fun design sitting around for them (compared to the bland-ass perfect-body copy-paste options Choices offers) and it’s exciting to be able to share more about them (even if the FA fandom isn’t very active).

[unmotivatedartistry]

Ask game but for your recent oc: 1, 4, 5, 6, and 18

WIESŁAW WRAITH SOKOŁOWSKI!!!!

1. Why do you like or dislike this character?

I LOVE HIM not because I created him BUT: He's Polish first of all, he's one of those really closed off and distant people and he struggles so impossibly hard with empathy or compassion or being nice or just expressing himself without Indifference, Anger, Or Pushing People Away. But he learns how to be

4. If you could put this character in any other media, be it a book, a movie, anything, what would you put them in?

CALL OF DUTY MODERN WARFARE 2. either the reboots or originals but I thhhhink I might make two mildly diff versions of him so I can fit him into BOTH worlds because. Why not? I actually made the silly OC guy for COD because. I don't know I wanted to make a COD oc so I did. But he can be separated outside of COD if we just say he went into a different section of the British Army after his discharge from the Polish Armed Forces

5. What's the first song that comes to mind when you think about them?

"From Underground" by Mook. I don't know why I started correlating him with the song aside from "Always looking outward / Always Looking Back" or "I'm unsure whose values / Am I living by" or "I say it regurgitated / But in my heart I know / I've accepted myself for less than I am" or "There's an animal waiting that must come out" or-- yeah you get it the song fits him.

6. What's something you have in common with this character?

WE'RE BOTH POLISH. AND we both were the kinda "academically gifted" kids but not really. Like that middleground between really smart kids and the regular kids.

18. How about a relationship they have in canon with another character that you admire?

I don't have any romantic relationships I think he'd be in (pretty sure he's aromantic without knowing it. He just isn't the type to love + he's traumatized like shit because I wanted to idk and he thinks he's incapable of loving someone else / is scared of it) BUT platonic ones; I think he'd be like a-brother-from-another-mother type thing with Ghost (from COD, obviously...) because they both share trauma and they just understand eachother like no one else and. They're just so similar they might as well be siblings. AND I think Wiesław would be very close with Price too because canonically (in my au of sorts where Wiesław exists) saved his life and got him into the TF141

[mahko-writes]

Day 2: Horizon

       Pray, return to the Waking Sands.

       Vyckta grumbled under her breath as she made her way across the sands of Thanalan, how many times had she heard that request from these “Scions”? It seemed like every request of theirs she completed just led to even more dire needs that “only she” could fulfill. She was beginning to wonder if they saw her as a hapless errand runner and not an accomplished warrior. Looking back, the humility with which they made their requests felt disingenuous to her. Would just a day’s break really harm the realm as much as they claim? It had been years since she left the jungles to find her fortune in the world, years since stumbling into Ul’dah and losing her possessions in a dubiously legal back-alley shell game. She had fought her way through the gladiator pits and won her freedom, only to become the gopher for a group of possibly insane academics. She just wanted to go home at this point, to see the lush jungles of her homeland once more.

      She shook her head, trying to clear the yearning from her mind. That can wait until this delivery or whatever is done, then she will give Minfilia a piece of her mind over being run ragged with the group’s requests. Yes, that will make her feel better. Vyckta nodded in greeting at the Brass Blade guards as she passed through the gate into Horizon, the men not returning the gesture, they never did. Still, she smiled at them as there was a point in time she considered joining their ranks, had she not been pulled into this Scion business. She paused a moment to look around the small checkpoint, nothing seemed out of place; it was the usual level of activity. Vyckta sighed, how could one believe the realm was in grave danger when presented with the image of life continuing as normal? Her mind began to wander back to thoughts of home, the jungle, the hunts with her sisters. How much had changed since she left the trees?

      A small voice interrupted her thoughts, “Hey! Hey, Vyckta!” It was Zuzutyro, no doubt trying to drum up business from her at his import stand. With a roll of her eyes, Vyckta decided to humor the Lalafell, this was probably the only break she would get before finishing the trek to Vesper Bay.

        “Hello, Zuzutyro. What do you need of me today?” Vyckta asked, the annoyance with her charge bleeding through into her voice.

         “Now, now. Is that any way to speak to a merchant? Here I was wanting to inform you of my products but now I’m reconsidering it,” Zuzutyro shot back, folding his arms and turning away in feigned offense.

          Vyckta rolled her eyes again, letting a small chuckle escape from her lips at the display. She softened her expression and returned with, “I apologize, I did not mean to offend you so. I am just a little frustrated with needing to travel to and from Vesper Bay constantly…”

         “I’ve seen as much. What sort of business are those ‘Scions’ having you do?”

         With a groan, Vyckta allowed her frustration to rise to the surface and she spent the next few moments summarizing the various tasks and materials the Scions asked she complete and obtain, and how each of these duties was met with that same “humble” request to “Pray, return to the Waking Sands”. Zuzutyro simply listened and nodded along, not surprised that an organization would rely heavily on such a capable fighter. Better the Scions than one of the more cutthroat Monetarists, he figured.

       Her rant over, Vyckta slumped slightly, fatigue washing over her body after the catharsis. She sighed and looked at Zuzutyro, “I apologize again, I should not have let my emotions out like that,” she cleared her throat and adjusted her posture, “So, what was it you wanted to tell me?”

       The Lalafell merchant just gave her one of his winning smiles, “It’s no bother, but I think you owe me some coin for my time listening,” he continued, ignoring the annoyed grunt from Vyckta, “I wanted to tell you that my most recent import managed to bring in some salted meats from the jungles of Golmore. Don’t ask how they managed to procure them.”

       Vyckta’s ears immediately perked up, her expression changing to one of shock. Eorzeans were able to not only visit her homeland, but trade? That should be impossible with the Garlean occupation. Drawing in a shaky breath, she leaned over and placed a hand on the counter, “How much do you want for them?”

       “Normally I’d sell these for thousands of gil each, given what my suppliers have to endure to obtain them,” Zuzutyro paused, appearing deep in thought as he studied Vyckta’s expression, noting the hint of homesickness under her shock. “For you, I’ll part with them for say…700 gil apiece?”

      Before her more rational mind can second-guess the offer, Vyckta slams down a small sack of coins, “Give me five!” She snatches the slices of meat from Zuzutyro and mumbles a quick thanks as she runs off to a nearby pile of boxes.

       Catching her breath from the excitement of the purchase and short run, Vyckta’s mind finally wrests control back and tells her to examine what she bought. She knows how simple of a bait and switch this could be, but the desire to taste home once again was too strong to resist. Bringing a strip to her face, she takes a cautious sniff. Instantly, a wave of nostalgia crashes into her as visions of preparing meals with her sisters flash in her mind. There was no mistaking those spices, that choice of fragrance found only in the jungle. Her mouth watering, she takes a large bite out of the meat, savoring the flavors of home.

      Hours pass as she rests on the boxes, consuming each cut of meat at a progressively slower pace, not wanting to let go of the nostalgia of home. Soon though, the last scrap is eaten and duties must continue. Vyckta sighed, sliding off the box she was sitting on. Perhaps she could stop by Zuzutyro’s stall for more on her next trip through Horizon? For now though, she must return to the Waking Sands.

     Maybe Tataru would want to try some?