#it's just the rough draft right now TT | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pajarinwrites · 7 months ago

Text

The Perfect Set 02

➳ fem!reader x Jacob

➳ wc: 4.9k

➳ TAGS: volleyball player!jacob, college!au, best friends to lovers

➳ WARNINGS: drinking, cob busts his lip and has to get it stitches, piv sex, cunnilingus (it's all not very elaborately described tho

➳ AN: i initially meant to only continue posting this series once i have all rough drafts finished but then i got too impatient and here we are, also i have been obsessed with jacob again, i'll get back to continuing chapter four now (i'm in a writers block with this story TT)

prev | next | series masterlist | general masterlist

Jacob watched you from the audience, the way your eyes were so zeroed in on your opponent, following their words with every ounce of your attention. Jacob knows the other girl slipped up when he sees the minuscule twitch of the corner of your mouth. I’ve got you, now. It seems to say. He’s seen it countless times in your practice debates, and in quite a few of your rows with him, too. Sure enough, your turn for a reply comes around and you take your opponents entire argument apart with a few well placed jabs. She gets increasingly hectic and starts stumbling over her words. Jacob almost feels bad for her. But when the jury leaves to discuss your debate any empathy evaporates. Your face lights up as you turn around to your team mates, who all give you thumbs up. He’s quite sure everyone in the hall can tell that you had the upper hand in that debate.

Once the results are officially announced and you and your team have advanced to the next round, you sprint over to the seats. He catches you in his arms and whirls you around.

“I told you, you could do it!”

“I could have been more concise in my second argument, and I totally forgot to respond to one of the aspects she mentioned, but overall it went quite well.” Your smile is blinding and he’s having a deja vu.

“You should take more time to celebrate your achievements.” You stick your tongue out at him but before he can reiterate how proud he is of you, a familiar pair of arms wraps around you from behind.

“You did so great,” Juyeon whispers into your ear, kissing your cheek. You blush furiously and Jacob feels sick.

“You wouldn’t even be able to tell the difference,” you tease him. And momentarily, the weird feeling alleviates. Even if you’ve gone on a few dates with Juyeon, Jacob is the one who always makes time for you, who goes to your debate team meetings, does research with you until late at night. He’s the one that is always there for you, that has always been there for you since you were children. So it’s only natural that your open affection with Juyeon would trigger an adverse reaction. He knew his team mate was a good guy, but he wasn’t sure if he was good enough for you. And on top of that, “could you guys not make out right in front of me? I’m gonna have to throw up.” You chuckle, detaching yourself from Juyeon in favour of simply holding his hand.

“It was just a peck, hyung.” Juyeon says, as if the exact manner of physical affection that you display makes any difference to Jacob.

“Either way, it’s weird because we’re like siblings.”

You look at him quizzically before shrugging. “No problem, we’ll just go over to that dark corner over there and continue. See you later!” You wave, pulling Juyeon along with you, while Jacob is left behind with the exceedingly unwelcome picture of you and Juyeon making out in a dark corner seared into his brain.

You seem to generally be busy with his teammate because Jacob sees less and less of you over the next few weeks. Juyeon also shows up increasingly late for training, often sporting suspicious marks on his neck or swollen lips. Upon the snickering glances of the younger teammates, he only grins and pulls his neckline a little lower. As much as Jacob wants you to be happy, Juyeon’s faltering morale starts to affect the whole team soon, dragging everyone’s motivation and teamwork down. After two weeks, Jacob has enough and asks Juyeon to stay behind after practice.

The taller man slinks up to him with all the time in the world and a self-satisfied expression on his face. “What’s up, cap?” He asks.

Jacob decides not to beat around the bush, “I’ve noticed over the past training sessions that you seem kind of distracted and demotivated…” Juyeon shows no reaction, forcing Jacob to continue explaining himself. “I’m definitely not the only one who noticed, and at this point your spotty attendance and lack of commitment are starting to affect the whole team.”

“But, hyung, I’m only ever a few minutes late. How am I at fault if everyone starts slacking off?”

“We’re a team, Juyeon. Everyone is responsible for everyone, to a certain degree. On top of that, you’re one of the older members, so the freshmen look up to you for guidance and motivation. Your attitude is having a negative effect on the whole team, and I need you to start taking this seriously again.”

“Or what?” Juyeon asks, his eyes boring into Jacob’s in a way that makes him squirm. He’s always hated confrontation, the fact that Juyeon is one of his close friends isn’t making this easier in the slightest. “Or nothing. This isn’t a threat, Juyeon.”

“So you’re asking me nicely? As your friend?”

“No, I’m telling you nicely. As your captain.”

“That still sounds kinda threatening, though.”

“I can’t help that. We’ve got a big roster of players and if you’re attitude and behaviour affect our results negatively, you’ll be swapped out. It’s as simply as that. I’m not doing this to antagonise you.”

“‘Course you aren’t.” Juyeon replies, his eyes fiery. He snatches his satchel off the bench and stares down at Jacob, who feels increasingly lost. “So you’re going to put me on the bench just because I’m fooling around with your girl.”

That’s an odd way to phrase it, Jacob thinks. It’s also a way that makes it sound way worse than it is.

“She’s not my girl, Juyeon. She is her own person, and this has nothing to do with her. Except that she seems to distract you from what’s really important.”

“No offence, captain. But if you think volleyball is what’s really important, you’ve never gotten your dick properly wet.” Jacob feels like he’s been slapped in the face and he doesn’t know if it’s his hurt pride or the vulgarity of the statement or the fact that he feels like he needs to defend your honour once more. He stares at Juyeon, taking rapid but deep breaths and doing his most to not loose grip of his amicable disposition.

“I don’t think she’d appreciate knowing that that’s all she means to you.”

“What’s it to you? Whatever we do with each other is none of your business. You just said she’s her own person.”

“It is absolutely my business if you’re hurting her.”

“Fuck you! You really think I’d ever do that?”

“Well if you can’t even—“

“Stop!” Juyeon suddenly screams. He’s fuming; Jacob isn’t even sure what he did to incur his friend’s sudden wrath, “don’t pretend like you know what we need from our relationship! If you don’t trust me, ask her whether she’s happy or not.”

Jacob presses his lips together, meeting Juyeon’s burning gaze with the same intensity.

“This isn’t even about her,” he reiterates because it feels like his grip on this conversation is slipping, “this is about volleyball.”

“I have a feeling that this is exactly about her.”

“That’s probably because you need to get your head and your priorities on straight.”

“Oh, sorry, that the relationships with the people I care about are more important to me than some stupid sport. Most importantly herright now.”

“We’ve got different priorities, then.” Jacob says coldly.

“Clearly.” Juyeon replies in a similar tone, “I quit.”

That takes Jacob by surprise, despite everything, and the words only register once Juyeon has crossed the gym and slammed the door shut behind himself.

Jacob stands, staring at the door in disbelief. Inside he’s still fuming, and it’s a feeling he doesn’t truly appreciate. He tried his hardest to keep the conversation civil but he still seems to have triggered Juyeon. Jacob decides to give him space to cool down, knowing that he himself needs it before he can face his friend again. In the face of overflowing emotions, Jacob always takes the same path. So he decides to do what he always does when he is feeling upset. It doesn’t hurt to get some more targeted practice in anyway, he’d been meaning to dedicate more time to his jump serves anyway.

He rolls the ball cage over the end of the court and starts practicing. Some serves, he imagines the ball is Juyeon’s face smirking at him. But most of them he’s looking at himself and feeling increasingly bad. Jacob is so engrossed in his serves that he doesn’t notice the door to the gym open and close again. Neither does he realise that you’ve sat down on the benches next to the court, watching him smash ball after ball precisely into the corners of the opponents half of the field. You watch as your best friend over-exerts himself, well aware that sometimes this is what he needs to turn off the incessant stream of doubt that runs his mind some days.

The first time you found him like this was the first week of your second year of middle school. He had just found out that he wouldn’t make the regular line-up for games this year either. Despite him sacrificing the better part of his free time to volleyball and never missing a practice, no matter how sick he was, his coach chose a different line-up. Of course Jacob didn’t say anything, ever the pacifist. And without his soothing reassurance, you would’ve stormed up to the coach in his stead to demand fairness.

“Nepotism,” you had huffed as you sat on the bench, watching your best friend try jump serve after jump serve. He was breathing heavily, his bangs sticking to his forehead at that point.

“Maybe you should take a break?” You suggested, earning yourself nothing but a burning glare. “My serves still suck. I can’t even land them in the court half the time,” he gritted as if that was enough explanation, and you had learned to keep your mouth shut. Eventually he would tire himself out, so much that he could barely lift his arms. Then he’d start collecting the countless volleyballs he had shot across the gym in hours before. You’d help him, wordlessly. And, finally, he would crash down on the floor in exhaustion, looking up at you with a sheepish grin, as if he should be apologising to you for burning himself out like that.

So today you sit there again, waiting for Jacob to tire himself out, as you’ve done countless times. He’s still going strong after half an hour and you’re starting to worry when he suddenly flops down onto the floor.

“Spent?” You call over. His head lolls back up, staring over at you in surprise. He just looks for a few seconds as if he hasn’t yet decided on an appropriate reaction. Slowly, a smile breaks out on his lips. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he says, which is the first time for him to ever say this. So it’s little surprising that it takes you aback so.

“Sure, whatever. You’re crazy,” you say, getting up and walking over. You hand Jacob his water bottle and start collecting balls all on your own. He starts helping you after a few minutes and together you clean and lock up. He takes a hurried shower, trying not to let you wait too long. The two of you are halfway to your dorms when you finally dare to breach the subject.

“So… do you wanna talk about what happened with Juyeon?” The frown on Jacob’s face manifests immediately.

“Not… really.”

“Ok, no problem. We don’t have to talk about it.”

“Did you talk to him about it?” His voice is quiet, nearly a whisper, so low that you can’t hear him over the sound of distant traffic. Only the campus’ eerie silence allows you to hear him. You haven’t heard him this insecure since the infamous middle school roster disaster. He’s staring at his feet while walking, as if he’s expecting to find a treasure on the floor any moment now.

“I mean, he talked to me about it… But don’t worry, I’m impartial.”

Jacob huffs. “I’ve never known a person to be less impartial than you,” he smiles.

You stew in silence until you make it to your dorm and you can’t quite decide whether or not it’s uncomfortable. “Do you wanna come in for a second? I still have that chai mix you love.” Your best friend lifts his eyes and there’s still a little hope in them.

“Sure,” he says, much to your relief. As he follows you up, you can hear from the heavy fall of his footsteps that the training exhausted him more than he likes to admit. Hence, it’s no surprise that you tell him to get comfy on your bed while you prepare the chai with the electric kettle in your room.

You hand him one mug, the one with the beagle saying ‘good morning’ on it, his favourite. When you sit down next to him, you decide not to prompt Jacob, instead giving him a chance to start talking in his own time. It takes few minutes and some sips from your drink before he takes a deep breath and looks at you.

“What did Juyeon say?”

“The usual.. you’ve got a stick up your ass when it comes to volleyball, you should care more about your friends, etcetera…

“Oh, he also asked me if I was happy. Which was… a little weird, just ‘cuz it was unprompted, you know?” Jacob looks up at you in surprise. “Are you?” He asks, “Happy, I mean.”

“Sure,” you say, unsure of where this is supposed to be heading, “I mean university is stressful especially with the exams coming up in a couple months. But other than that I’m pretty happy… Can’t say the same for you or Juyeon, though.”

Jacob nods sagely. “It’s just been a little rough between us lately and I don’t even fully know why.”

“Maybe it’s just tensions with the quarter finals coming up?”

“That’s probably a contributing factor.”

“All the more reason to make up with him,” you whisper, not sure if you’re breaching the subject too soon. But judging by Jacob’s heavy sigh, this is the pivotal point that his brain had been circling the whole time too.

“I know you’re right but… he said a few things. And I know, from experience, that he needs a little time to calm down.”

“He seemed just as confused as you, to be honest. Maybe give him a few days before talking to him. And maybe get him back on the team? How cool would it be if our university actually won this year’s volleyball championships?” Jacob laughs. Finally, you think, relieved at the way his face finally lights up, even if it’s just for a split second.

“So your motivations are entirely selfless?”

You rest on hand on your heart, “of course! They always are. I am a good samaritan.” Jacob smirks, falling back into silence, except this time you’re sure it’s a comfortable one.

What he doesn’t want to tell you is that he still feels like his argument with Juyeon was only marginally about volleyball. He was worried his friend might have told you that he thinks volleyball is more important to himself than you. (Which isn’t even true, of course. He’s pretty certain you’d know either way that you have always been and will always be his trop priority.) But he is relieved that Juyeon was right, you are happy in whatever situationship you have going on with him. And the mixed feelings he had about that were only due to his momentarily strained relationship with Juyeon. As long as he knows that Juyeon’s treating you right, he has no reason to not be delighted about you being in a loving relationship. He worries. That’s all.

After twenty years of friendship, you can easily spot when Jacob goes into a funk. So when he stares absentmindedly into his empty cup of chai, you know he hasn’t entirely gotten over his dismay about the fight. On top of that, you can see his eyelids dropping in real time. For not entirely unselfish reasons (it’s been ages since the two of you had a sleepover), you offer him to crash at your place tonight. He accepts, with a soft, sleepy smile that warms your heart.

You give him a spare toothbrush and oversized t-shirt so he can comfortably squeeze into your twin-size dorm bed beside you. You wrap one arm around him and he mirrors you while pulling you close. He’s so close you can make out the faint scar on his upper lip. It takes more than a little effort to push the memories of that night out of your head. Especially since it’s the first time he’s sleeping over since that accident.

“Don’t fall out,” you whisper.

“I’ll try my very best.” He whispers back, “good night, sunshine.”

“We have to go!” You squeal, “it’s team-bonding!”

Jacob rolls his eyes at you, “you’re just happy to be invited to a big house party within your first month of uni.”

“So what? Something can be more than one thing at once.”

“Yeah, except this time it’s not.”

You’re sat on the floor in front of Jacob, legs crossed, while he was on your dorm bed. He had come over in order to watch a cute animated movie with you, the way the usually did after he played and won a match with his team. Except this time he barely made it through your door before you started bombarding him with questions about the after-game party that apparently was a tradition for your university’s volleyball team.

Jacob was hard-pressed to tell you ‘no’, especially with your puppy-dog eyes and the way your oversized shirt had ridden up your thighs when you had planted yourself in front of him.

“Why do you never want to go to parties with me?” You whine, pulling on his arm lightly, while pouting. He sighs deeply, already resigning himself to giving into your whim.

“We didn’t even tell them we’d be coming!”

“Oh, please, Jake! As if anyone cares about that. I bet you half a dozen random strangers will show up and no one will care!”

“We’ll be late.”

“No one will be bothered by that except for you.”

He groans, dropping dramatically back onto you bed. You crawl up beside, leaning over him with a smirk. His heart starts racing but he decides to ignore it. “So… is that a yes?”

“Yes, yes, fine whatever.” He says, but he knows you can see the smile etching itself onto his face.

“You’re the best!” You squeal, pressing a kiss to his cheek that leaves his face burning. Before he can even react you’ve jumped back up, throwing dress after dress on top of him. “Hey,” he tries to protest, sitting up but promptly getting hit in the face again.

“What should I wear?” You ask, already out of your t-shirt. You’re standing in front of him in nothing but a bra and your high school sport shorts. It’s not like he hasn’t seen you in less before but with how out of sorts his heart has been acting this night he’s starting to think he’s going to have a problem tonight. “I don’t know, any of them look good.”

Rolling your eyes, your sigh, “You’re not very helpful, you know that?”

You pull on a cute red dress and Jacob is about to compliment you when you frown and pull it back over your head. As you continue to rummage through your closet, he starts looking through the dresses you had haphazardly tossed onto your bed and, by extension, on him. There’s a short black one that sparkles lightly if he holds it up to the light just right. He holds it out for you to see to inquire about your opinion. The way your face lights up let’s him know that he hit the mark.

“It’s perfect!” You exclaim after trying it on and spinning in front of your mirror. He wants to tell you that it’s not perfect after all, that the hem is definitively much too short. But he keeps quiet because he’s not your keeper and he’s never had it in him to deny you something you wanted before. Jacob waits patiently as you put on your makeup and do your hair, and is fascinated again by how much work goes into looking like you put no work into your appearance.

Finally you finish and make it to Sangyeon’s apartment two hours late. A stranger ushers you in. Jacob thinks it’s Sangyeon’s roommate, who he’s only met one singular occasion that left him with antipathy for the man, and the feeling is only exacerbated when said roommate’s inebriated.

“Dude, thought you wouldn’t show, cool you made it!” He greets Jacob, even though his eyes are still on you, blatantly looking you up and down. All that’s missing is him licking his lips, Jacob thinks. To his horror, you seem into it, winking at the player. Jacob's hand wraps around your arm, softly but decisively, and he pulls you into the kitchen to get some drinks. The communal space is full of his team mates. Most don’t pay any attention to your late arrival but a few stare at your ass as the two of you walk by. He’ll definitely need some alcohol to survive the night, he thinks. So that’s exactly what he does, he gets himself and you some alcohol, making sure to make yours mostly juice with only a spritz of vodka. Your reaction isn’t favourable but there really isn’t anything you can do about it now. Jacob would like to stick right by your side the entire evening but you’re almost immediately whisked away by no one lesser than his team’s co-captain. Unfortunately for Jacob he’s heard you gush about Sangyeon’s ‘bulging biceps’ on more than one occasion and he hates that the older man seems to have taken a liking to you too.

Jacob tries to distract himself by watching a different group of players have a go at truth and dare in front of the couch but he’s constantly distracted. Even more unfortunately, once he gets up from the game fifteen minutes later, you (and Sangyeon) have disappeared. So, really, he thinks it’s understandable that he drinks a little more than he initially planned.

After a few too many cups Jaehyun finds him in the kitchen only to announce that they’ve set up a keg in the courtyard downstairs. In his woozy state, Jacob thinks that sounds like a grand idea. Also, if there’s partying happening outside, you might’ve simply gone there and that was why he didn’t find you earlier. Jaehyun is elated at the fact that his party-averse junior is following him easily and the both of them are greeted with cheers when they emerge from the apartment building. Jacob spots neither you nor Sangyeon but he’s so busy scanning the area that he doesn’t even fully realise when Sangyeon’s infamous roommate sidles up to him, “Dude,” he whispers, “it’d be so rad if you did a keg-stand right now.”

“Uh uh,” Jacob replies and he’s been led all the way to the keg and is already halfway into a handstand before he fully realises what he just agreed to. Whatever, he thinks, might as well. So he let’s Jaehyun and the roommate hold him up while the tries to chuck as much beer as possible. The only problem was that Sangyeon and you decided to arrive outside at that exact moment. Jaehyun spots you and immediately screams your and Sangyeon’s name.

“Weren’t you two gone for a while? How’s the dick?”

Sangyeon and you throw up a simultaneous middle finger in response but Jacob can’t see that. He only hears Jaehyun’s comment and is momentarily so distracted that his hand slips.

There’s a few ways that this evening could have gone differently. For one, Jacob could have chosen to have a normal reaction to the person that is nothing but his best friend going off to fool around with his teammate. He could have drunken a normal amount of alcohol. He could have refused to go outside or he could have refused to do a keg-stand while being half a beer away from shit-faced. But he didn’t do any of those things. So when his hand slips it isn’t really surprising to anyone that he doesn’t manage to catch himself and instead slams face first into the keg.

It takes several stitches to sew up his lip. The same can’t be said for his chipped tooth. But the doctor’s verdict is generally favourable. “It could’ve gone much worse, young man.” He says at he shows Jacob out of the emergency room. Sangyeon, who had been sober, as it turns out, is waiting for him. He doesn’t have a comment as he leads Jacob to his car and drives him back to his apartment. He pulls up to the curb and Jacob is about get out when Sangyeon rests a hand on his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he says, leaving Jacob confused, especially because he still feels a considerable degree of tipsy, despite everything that had transpired over the last half hour. “For what?” He asks.

Sangyeon lets out a deep sigh,”I should’ve been there. It was my place, my invitation. I should’ve been responsible. And I wasn’t there.” For the first time Jacob sees his co-captain, usually a steady presence in the team, defeated. His shoulders are hunched over and Jacob realises the pressure that must rest on Sangyeon’s shoulders. He cares a lot, he’s a great co-captain, more responsible than their actual captain, to be honest.

“It’s not like you can be everywhere at once,” Jacob says, even though his insides feel like they're on flames when he thinks about where Sangyeon had disappeared to and with whom. Still, he’s great when he can tease a small smile from the older man’s lips.

“Thank you, Jacob. You’d make a great captain someday.” The man in question is more than a little taken aback.

“Because I showed such a great tendency for responsibility tonight?”

Sangyeon laughs, “No. Because you care, and you can read people very well. You’ll grow into it, don’t worry.” He smiles as if he has insight into the future in a way that Jacob doesn’t. “I’ll take better care of you from now on. But right now…” He looks out the passenger side window, past Jacob. “I think someone’s waiting for you.”

Jacob turns around, seeing you cowered on the steps to his dorm, your arms wrapped around yourself protectively.

Jacob waves Sangyeon off as his car drives off. He sits down next to you, bathing in the silence until the car lights have long faded away. When you still remain motionless next to him, he takes your hand in his softly and tugs you up the stairs to his dorm. He’s never been so happy that he has a solo dorm as when you wrap your arms around him fiercely the second his room door slams shut. He huffs as you press all the air out of his lungs.

“Are you okay?” You whisper into the side of his neck and he nods. You look up, your eyes big and shiny from tears that you must’ve cried before he arrived. He cradles your cheek to wipe the lingering traces of them away, but before he has the chance you close the distance between the two of you.

The press of your lips is light as a feather, unsure whether or not you’ve made the right decision. Jacob blames it on the alcohol, in hindsight. Otherwise there is no way he would’ve been ready to throw twenty years of friendship out the window. He moves his lips against yours, hungrily, because he’s afraid you might change your mind. But instead you wrap your arms around him more closely, trailing them up his back and his whole skin brakes out in goosebumps. One of your hands tangles in his hair, much more forceful now he’s given you permission. His hands wander as much as yours, he’s trying to commit every curve, every expanse of your skin to his drunken memory in the worry that this is some near-death-experience-induced hallucination.

But it’s still real when his hands sneak under your shirt, it’s still real when you take of his and start kissing across his chest. It’s still real when he strips you of your clothes and puts his mouth to your soaked core, it’s still real when you beg for more, your whimpers burned into his brain forever. It’s so so real when he enters you and when he feels you constrict around him until he’s releasing into the condom. You’re still real when you’re lying next to him in his tiny, messy dorm room, falling asleep curled into his side.

Unfortunately, it’s still real when he wakes up in the morning to your horrified expression. It’s real when both of you scramble out of bed, putting your clothes on backwards in the hurry and mumbling embarrassed ‘I’m sorry’s to each other. And it is all too real when you basically sprint out of his room only to send him a single text later that day, saying that, for the sake of your friendship, you’d be more than ready to just forget this ever happened.

#the boyz #jacob bae #jacob x reader #jacob bae x reader #the boyz jacob #the boyz jacob x reader #tb jacob x reader

18 notes · View notes

goodenoughformeee · 5 months ago

Text

A story for an aroace person aka me part 1 ( this is all rough draft kinda story) :p

you know as there is a lack of aroace characters/representation in many shows/ stories/mangas/manhwas/ etc.

So, my brain is like "if there is no representation, just make it yourself" XD

{ story summary: two best friends died and got reincarnated into the original mc and original villainess in an otome game }

So since I don't know how to start this story imma just wing it and see how it goes lol

Keep in mind I might change some of the plot in the future. Keep in mind this will be just a rough draft kinda story, I'm saying that cuz idk how to actually star the story TT

Our story starts with two best friends of whom I've yet to name so therefore will be known as A and B untill they get their reincarnated names :p

So the two best friends, around the age of 20 are returning home to their shared apartment from a bar.

As ti why they were at the bar?(Idk how a bar works, never been to one I think so bare with me here TT )It was because B broke up with her boyfriend ( this can change) so in order to cheer up B, A took her to the bar to drink her problems away. So the two friends chatted and drank and drank until around 1 pm when they both decided to go home.

So B is full on drunk and A being the one to support her, were crossing the road. It was then it happened, the accident. The truck hit them (classic reincarnation death of the mc lol) And then they you know...died :p

(the main character of the story is A btw)

Our main character A who you know just died, her conscious was like "damn so this is how I die?" and everything went black but that was not the end of her story.

Suddenly, A could hear voices of a person talking to themselves.

"who in theirs right mind would abandon a baby?"

A is of course confused as to what is happening as she just literally seconds ago died and came to know that she's in fact alive when she was able to open her eyes and sees the person who was carrying her.

"ayo did I ACTUALLY got reincarnated!? I know I said I wanted to get reincarnated but- you know what I'll take it, cause that truck really HIT like I'm pretty sure me and my bestie flew and died on impact or sth" was what A though upon realizing that she got reincarnated.

Fast forward

A is now 3 years old and during the 3 years she got a new name "xia". She has been observing her surrounding and also is trying to figure out where she reincarnated into. As she had read and watched a bunch of anime and manga/manhwas and also talked to her friends and with B about it.

So she assumes that she's most likely is in a game or anime or novel or manga. The only problem was that she could not figure out where she got reincarnated into, was this world an anime or a novel or a manga/manhwas or was it a game?

A being confused "ugh! How the hell am I supposed to find out what anime or a novel or a manga/manhwas or game this world is!? I read 4-6 mangas/ manhwas which usually aren't completed a day or go through 2-3 anime or play a game or two.

And then go WEEKS upon weeks without so much so as not even TOUCHING an anime or manga. I relay on my tabs and search history to guide me back to where I last watched or read.

I don't even usually REMEMBER the characters and refer to them by their hair colour or the plot"

So Xia (A) puts a hold to that and continues observing and interacting with her surrounding. She find out that the area she's currently in is an orphanage and is in a rural and neutral area so far.

There were kids from various age groups, from babies to young teenagers with all kinda of hair and eye colours.

(that's it for now, hope you enjoyed the story so far and if you have any questions feel feel to ask. I'll reply when I got the time since it's night time where I am so I'm going to sleep :D

Hope you liked the story and have a good day or night! <3

#aroace #aromantic #asexual #original character #original story #original stuff #reincarnation #reincarnationstory #isekai #oc #my ocs #my writing

12 notes · View notes

acourtofthought · 1 year ago

Text

The Starsword aka Gwydion

I kept turning over that angry anon from yesterday.

Was my theory about Gwydion farfetched? Sure, but at this point a lot of CC theories are farfetched to some extent because only SJM knows what's actually going to happen and we're all just doing our best to interpret the clues. There are multiple possible outcomes for every scenario right now.

But I do think there are levels to how likely certain theories are and that's usually based on how much twisting of canon and the characters we're doing to achieve them.

My Gwydion theory is probably one of the more out there ones I've done and as there are many other possible theories surrounding the sword and a lot of confusion in how intertwined these two series are, it makes me hesitant to believe in my theory the way I do say, Elain ending up in Spring.

But is it really any more farfetched than other Starsword theories?

When you break it down there are one of three options.

1) Bryce keeps the Starsword and takes TT back to Midgard with her.

2) Bryce returns to Midgard with the Starsword and Az keeps TT in Prythian.

3) Gwydion is left in Prythian, the land where it was originally forged.

I could see Bryce keeping the Starsword (espcially since the IC has their own made weapons) and Az keeping TT because those weapons are part of their individual backstories.

I see it being less likely that Bryce would take TT from Az, something about that feels odd to me considering Az had TT long before SJM even started drafting CC.

Maybe the prophecy has already been fulfilled. Technically Bryce represents the people on Midgard while Rhys and the gang represent the land where her people originated from, therefore the dagger and sword have already been reunited as well as their people. I think the theories claiming all the inhabitants of Midgard will be reunited with all the people of Prythian because they'll eventually live together are not probable. Or maybe it's still hinting at them joining together in a war of the worlds situation but returning to their own planets after at a later point.

That leaves us with the third option, Gwydion stays in Prythian.

Anyone reading CC and assuming they have Theia and the Starswords history correct is forgetting that Amren was alive / in Prythian before Gwydion and Fionn rose. She did not enter the prison until the time when they were rounding up the last members of their old masters. "The last members of". That should mean that Amren was alive when Gwydion was forged and given to Fionn who then helped defeat the majority of Daglan in battle.

The rough territories were not drawn until after Fionn defeated the Daglan with Gwydion and Fionn's Queen was ruler of one of those territories (possibly Theia?). But it wasn't the Dusk Court yet, just where it would have been.

Amren was in prison during Fionn's murder by his Queen and general so if there is any confusion in ACOTAR history, it could have come from that specific time period. Maybe there's confusion as to who actually murdered him (maybe Theia was fed lies about Fionn by Pelias, maybe she was forced) or how he was murdered. Or the missing piece could simply be who his queen was, that they never had a name for her. But it is mentioned that Fionn's most powerful and prized possessions were stolen and then many disappeared around the same time the Trove disappeared (Gwydion and the horn went to Midgard).

I really don't think any gaps in Prythians history comes from how Gwydion was created or who first wielded it because out of all the characters in all series, Amren was witness to it.

And Aidas snarling that the Starsword belong to Theia's female heirs is someone speaking out as an ex-lover who hates Pelias and hates that Pelias tried to pass the Starsword down to his children. We have no evidence that Aidas knew Theia before the crossing or knew whether the Starsword was hers to begin with.

Yes, the Starsword recognizes Bryce "as kin" but "like calls to like". Gwydion was made when it was dipped into the Cauldron. We have hints that the fae (which would include the orignal Starborn), Illyrian's, etc were "created" by the Daglan. Possibly using the Cauldron?

Even Briallyn was able to search for the Trove because it recognized her "as kin".

Theoretically anyone descended from those original Starborn fae or fae hybrids as well as any recently made could possess the Starsword but we also need to remember that "Made objects tend to not wish to be found by just anyone". Cassian says, "you say that as if the objects have a sentience". And Amren replies, "They do." "They were made in a time when wild magic still roamed the earth." "Made objects tend to gain their own self-awareness and desires" which all means the sword may not choose to respond to just anyone and it could have it's own agenda in reacting to Bryce the way in did.

Did Bryce not return it to the land from which it came? Reuniting it with it's twin? Could part of the whole setup have been Gwydion returning to Prythian and Bryce having a chance to learn about her history?

The Starsword / Gwydion is a made object just like the mask / crown were made so there's not always one super special fae that these objects belong to. If Briallyn could use the crown than someone other than Bryce could use the sword. Ruhn was able to pull it from the stone though it didn't respond to him exactly the same way which Bryce realizes is due to the nuances in their lights. Which could mean any number of things, one being that the sword knew Bryce's light and her being the keeper of the horn were necessary to return it to Prythian. And in CC they haven't seen Theia's light appear since Theia but that doesn't mean there aren't descendants of Starborn fae in ACOTAR who also share a light similar to Theia or another one of their ancestors. Midgard doesn't have many descendants of the original Starborn but that doesn't mean there aren't more still existing in their original world.

There are 7 courts in Prythian though if the crossing had not happened, there would most likely have been 8 and Theia would have been the High Lady of Dusk. I absolutely do not think this means they're now going to form an 8th court with Bryce as the ruler, Bryce belongs in Midgard with her people. But.....we know Rhys is probably Starborn but with a Starborn gift that matches Ruhns. And I'm guessing Helion could also be Starborn based off his reaction to the mask (a Trove item that was made as Gwydion was made) as well as the fact that he has the light of the sun and is the owner of the Pegasus. That could mean his heir might also be Starborn.

Dawn Court glows the brightest of everyone so.....could he not be a descendent of the Starborn?

I'm wondering if all the High Lords are Starborn (and now any of the characters who were "made" by the Cauldron) because of their ancestry. It would make sense given the fact that they are blessed with powers unlike any other. The other fae bloodlines have been diluted over the years but the bloodlines among the High Lords seems to have a stronger connection to the magic.

And if Fionn was the first High King ruling over everyone than it's possible he was Starborn and he's got descendants out there, maybe in Autumn given his connection in mythology to the hounds and forests.

Yes, that means most of our main characters would be Starborn, Bryce, Rhys, Helion, Beron, Tamlin, Nesta, Lucien, Eris etc. but it still doesn't mean they can all pick and choose whatever made weapons they want. We saw in SF that Ataraxia seemed to almost fight against Rhys using it while it responded to Nesta. And we saw the made dagger given to Eris possibly infuse itself with his fire meaning that particular made weapon seems to connect with him.

Depending on who her father is Gwyn could also be descended from a Starborn fae (if she's related to Beron or Eris).

If that third option listed above is a remote possibility than who would get Gwydion?

I don't think Gwydion is more powerful than Narben or Ataraxia or any made object. I think the mask and crown can probably do more damage to their enemies so at this point I really do think Gwydion is more symbolic of the first High King who helped them defeat the Daglan, a symbol of peace. Sure, it's still going to be powerful as any made weapon is but it's no longer one of a kind and is special because of its history. And it makes sense to have it end up with the person who will once again rally everyone together to fight in the battle of all battles.

Gwydion was a savior's light that brought about peace so which character matches with that imagery?

Rhys? - They specifically mentioned Rhys as possible High King in SF and he is genuinely concerned with bringing about peace to their lands, he was already willing to die for them in ACOWAR. So maybe?

Feyre? (could she be Starborn if gifted with the powers of all the High Lords?) - Rhys once called her his salvation and she too was willing to die for their people, not to mention she glows with Helions light.

I could see arguments being made for them except for a few things. They are the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court and morally gray at times. Their goal is always to bring about peace but they've lost trust along the way in how they go about that. Not to mention their POVs are over. While I do think they'll still play major roles in the series, I feel it's time for the other characters to shine. Amren also reminds Rhys that "the Cauldron's benevolence will only be extended to him for so long before it is offered to another" which does seem to hint at the torch being passed along.

Gwyn? Gwyn and Gwydion (matching names), Az has TT and the sword and dagger are connected, not to mention she glows. But the play on names is a little too cutesy and in your face and I'm not sure she makes sense as the one to unify the courts and their lands which is what Gwydion represents to their people. Yes, SJM is about female empowerment and Gwyn is absolutely going to be a badass warrior but I don't think she's ready to be a figurehead to their world (even Rhys rallied the troops in ACOWAR though Feyre was the FMC). Not to mention Gwyn has a lot of similarities to the Little Mermaid whose voice is literally a glowing ball of light when she sings just as Gwyn glows when she sings. When used by the Little Mermaid, it's simply enchanting for anyone who hears it but when used by someone evil (like Ursula) it put Eric into an almost trance where he couldn't think clearly.

For the love of any anti's reading this, GWYN IS NOT EVIL. If Gwyn is a siren of sorts, she would NEVER use her voice to deceive or trick someone she loves. However, Gwyn could use her voice against their enemies and I think this also makes Narben the best made weapon for her. If Gwyn is Az's mate, Az who lives in the shadows and has TT which is used to torture people (a pretty bloody history for a weapon), than a sword with darker powers which is lost to the sea and who would not "obey" Amarantha is kind of perfect for a water fae who can possibly call things to her.

Helion? It's not like he'd be a bad candidate except I don't think he's getting a POV. At least not one set in the present.

Elain? I'm not even going here. Elain might be capable of playing the political game in meetings and swaying people to their cause but she's not a warrior and she shouldn't have to be.

Eris or any of the other High Lords? Eris still has a journey coming up but they aren't really the focus of this series, they're all side characters. If Gwydion is going to anyone I imagine it would be one of the main people.

Lucien? If Sarah pays attention at all to names and their meaning, Gwydion has masculine origins and means "born of trees" and in ACOWAR she describes Lucien as being crafted from the forest, that the woods were his by blood and law. Gwydion is also the name of the powerful magician in the Blodeuwedd fairytale, the uncle of Lleu who created a beautiful wife out of flowers for his nephew and we already know SJM connected Elain to that particular fairytale through her Pinterest board.

I won't bore you again with all the bullet points of why Lucien would be good at unifying the courts, the human lands and the continent but the evidence is throughout the series. He's always tried to be a peace maker, never seeks out revenge, is good at talking to people and has friends everywhere. If High King is going to be a thing (at least during the war, the position itself would be disolved after) he would be an excellent candidate. He's building up to being a High Lord but has basically been training for the role his entire life and is a trained fighter.

Also, he is the son of two different courts. Connected to both Autumn (which Fionn may have been based on what we know of the Fionn from mythology and how it connects to the Autumn Court, like the hounds) and Day which means he does have the power of sunlight running through his veins. And Feyre not only reminds us of Lucien's goodness in ACOWAR but repeats that he is a good male in FAS.

As crazy as it initially sounds to connect Lucien to Gwydion and the prophecy, is it all that crazy when you consider that Az is connected to the prophecy?

Elain is getting a book, yes. But SJM has been building up Lucien's story since ACOTAR. He's got a big journey coming too. If CC3 is setting up the future of ACOTAR and part of that future includes prophecy's about weapons and the possibility of Asteri making their way to Prythian, then why would she only connect ONE of her main characters to that future?

I know people love Az and are looking forward to his story but just because Lucien isn't part of the IC (therefore not around much), he is going to be just as important to the future of the series, he has to be. If Gwynriel and Elucien are both getting books than Lucien is just as important as Az and it would actually be a little odd if Lucien wasn't eventually tied into the events of the crossover since he's one of the remaining MMC getting a POV.

I don't think he'll feature in CC3 but he'll need to be brought into the loop at some point as will Elain and the other courts and if Gwydion is left with Rhys than it's possible it could find its way into Lucien's hands from there.

With the prophecy, TT is important to Prythian's history but why? Is it the dagger used to kill Fionn? Fionn having Gwydion and Gwydion being stolen by his Queen and best friend (also general) with the dagger left behind and separated from the sword for thousands of years only to have them reunited is a bit full circle. Again, Az is important but is he truly that much more important to the series than Lucien that SJM would completely leave Lucien out of the entire crossover storyline?

SJM has been building up animosity between Lucien and Az which is going to need to be resolved considering Az is jelaous of Lucien and barely blinks at the though of killing him. There was clearly animosity between Fionn and Pelias that ended in murder and involved the theft of an important and powerful weapon.

One MMC from ACOTAR is part of the prophecy because of his connection to one weapon. Is it really that crazy to bring in a second MMC from ACOTAR as being connected to the other weapon? Especially when you consider the current setup between Az and Lucien?

There's a lot of mystery surrounding what really happened and I could be completely off base but until we get more information, many theories are going to be be flying around. But I think those that don't work within the confines of what we know about the characters (like thinking Bryce will leave her world and her mate to be with Az or Elain ending up as ruler of the Dusk Court with Az) are why some seem more farfetched to me. We also already have a series where the FMC had to correct the mistakes of those from the past (Aelin anyone?) so Bryce correcting the mistakes of Theia and /or Fionn's general by returning Gwydion wouldn't be unheard of.

#elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #crossover acotar #rhysand acotar #sarah j mass #acotar theory #gwydion #hofas theory #gwynriel #narben #high lord helion #lucien spell cleaver #lucien supremacy

27 notes · View notes

folliesandfolderols · 8 months ago

Text

Writing prompts day 84

From this prompt list. If you’ve read this far, I’m not sure you need any explanation, but the short version is I hadn’t written any fiction since 2019, I set a goal to write at least 150 words/day in 2024, and this list was my way to restart. Also I abruptly decided on day 2 I would write an entire Tim/Damian story connecting all the prompts, because I am Good at Judging My Limits. /sarcasm Anyway, I finished the rough draft a while ago and am now unlocking the old entries as I edit.

Read from the beginning here, or on ao3 here.

Days 76-83 here

***

127. "I don't like people touching what's mine."

***

When Tim woke up, he was held securely to Damian’s side with one strong arm. He could tell by the rhythm of Damian's breath that he was awake. A glance at his phone on its charging stand told him the alarm was going to go off in fifteen minutes.

“Morning,” he mumbled, kissing the skin closest to his mouth. “Did you sleep okay?”

“I did.” Damian's arm tightened around him and lifted till Tim tilted his head back to blink at him.

Damian’s tone held none of its usual bite this early. Tim’s belly quivered with a jumble of emotions he didn't want to pick apart.

“Hey.” He rolled to overlay Damian and peck his lips. “You should kiss me. Or I should kiss you, I'm not picky.”

Damian's whole body melted under his, going loose-limbed except where he embraced Tim. "Very well, I suppose I can humor you for a little while." He kissed Tim, mouth slow and leisurely, like neither of them had a single obligation that wasn't to the other. Tim made an appreciative sound and let his muscles unwind from their customary readiness. There were few places safer than here, in the fading darkness of his bedroom, with Damian. He could afford to let his guard down a little.

They kissed and kissed and kissed, and though Tim grew half-hard and could feel Damian's same response beneath him, it didn't seem like a precursor to anything. It was worthwhile for its own sake.

With their chests pressed together like this, it felt entirely possible that the tangled knot of emotions at Tim's core could unwind and knit itself into Damian. He would carry it with him through his day, picking apart each stitch with his clear-eyed scrutiny. Before long, he would have a better idea of Tim's emotions than Tim did himself.

Terror, sharp and cold, streaked down his backbone. Shit. He was in so fucking deep.

Well, like Cass had said, he could just pretend he wasn't scared. Lifting his head, he whispered against Damian's swollen lips, "Five, four, three, two..."

Damian gave a disgruntled "tt" as the phone screen started to brighten beside them, the alarm chirping at its lowest volume. "Let's both call in dead to WE. Force Father to run his own corporation for once."

Tim reached to tap the screen and turn off the alarm. "Let's be honest, if you were gone, it would have that effect. If I stay home he's just out an R&D grunt." He shrugged. "Plus, you would want to demand updates every five minutes, convinced that everyone there was fucking up your work."

Damian gave Tim a reluctant hum of acknowledgement, running his hands up and down his sides. "It's true; I don't like people touching what's mine."

Am I yours? Tim thought about asking.

Before he could say it out loud, assuming he could’ve gotten up the courage, Damian sat up and kissed him one last time, then rolled out from under him. "May I have the bathroom first? I'll have to go in early to put on one of the spare suits I keep in my office."

"Sure." When the door closed behind him, Tim knew he should get up and at least get out some oatmeal bars or fruit Damian could take on his drive. Instead, he collapsed on his belly, pulled a pillow over his head, and groaned with frustration. Why couldn't he just get over himself and enjoy what was happening right now?

And it was super enjoyable! Last night had been amazing. Even now he had to fight off sex flashbacks: Damian kissing his palms, Damian asking him wordlessly to fuck his mouth, Damian responding like a dream to any word of praise—

Oh. Tim had called him sweetheart.

He tried to remember what Damian's response had been to the endearment, but his memory failed him, veiled by all the sex. He was pretty sure Damian hadn't responded in like fashion, though. And who could blame him? The last time he'd said that sort of thing Tim had run away for months.

Well, Alfred had always told Tim, "When in doubt, do the next indicated thing." In this case, the next indicated thing was feeding the man in his bathroom.

"Damian?" he called toward the door. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"Tea and fruit, please," was the response, muffled by splashing.

Tim dutifully went to the kitchen and flipped the kettle on, then got to work peeling an orange. He'd been paying attention enough to notice that Damian only drank Rishi Earl Grey in the normal course of events, so he'd bought a box to have around. Just in case.

He was taking the tea bags out of the travel mug he'd prepped when Damian walked in, toweling off his hair. "There you are. Here, take this before you go?"

The hesitant smile Damian gave him melted some of the ice that threatened to rime his stomach. Tim walked him to the door and kissed him goodbye.

He avoided looking at his own eyes while he shaved and brushed his teeth, afraid of what he'd find there. He didn't look as he applied the scar-covering makeup they all used to the hickey Damian had left on his neck. Even once he got to work, he found himself steering clear of his reflection. What if there were visual proof there of his own cowardice? Nobody else seemed to notice, but then, maybe they already thought of him that way.

By the time he got home, he was desperate for a distraction and grateful the ice had done its job so his ankle was healed enough to go out on patrol. As soon as he was under the open sky, he fired his grapple and soared away, letting the cool rush of air past his face put him into the right frame of mind for surviving whatever the night held. Out here, he didn't have to pretend. Out here, he had made certain he possessed whatever it took to do the job. It would have to be enough, for now.

day 85 here

#timdami #damitim #tim and damian and 150 prompts #like i know what you want #folliefic

5 notes · View notes

ddarker-dreams · 2 years ago

Note

hi hi lock!! i was wondering if i could ask for some writing advice? TT

i've been writing for years now, but i'm currently working on my very first longfic! i'm about 40.000 words in right now (final product will prob be somewhere slightly below 60k), but it definitely has lots of heavy editing left to be done. i've got a solid idea of where i want the plot to go and where and when everything that's left is going to happen (very rough first draft writing). u might be wondering what the problem here is,,

i'm trying to hold off from posting anything until the whole fic is fully finished cuz that's the Best Way of doing stuff but my silly little monkey brain wants the validation so badly at this point!!!! i wanna put the first chapter out there!! OTL i've been working on this almost daily for the past two months or so, putting all other requests on hold, and i want to share this with the world so badly!! but the thing is i'm really worried that i'll want to change details/things once i've posted them,, like i'll suddenly think of a new plot element later or wanna chance parts of reader's characterization, tho I think it's unlikely at this point TT

is this something you've struggled with yourself? or do you just have any thoughts on the subject?? i would appreciate anything, tyvm, blowing u a kiss!

FIRST OFF !!!!!!!!!! congratulations on getting to 40k words, that really is no small feat, and you should be proud of yourself because man. that's a novel right there. i can't overstate how amazing that is. 🎉🎉🎉

as for your dilemma, i understand all too well hjtkgemr i have such a difficult time with long series partially because of that reason. finding the motivation to trudge through everything without feedback can be really hard. especially when you want to mention some elements of it, then while actually working on the story, you change your mind and feel bad for scrapping the idea after hyping it up 😭... i know i've said it before, but i have the utmost respect for people who write series. good god.

hm... i feel bad because i don't have much solid advice and don't want to accidentally say something detrimental... if you think you have the first chapter really ironed out, posting it and receiving the blessed Serotonin Boost™ from feedback seems like a good idea to me. some of my all time favorite writers go back to edit their earlier chapters. imo, there's nothing wrong with doing this. if anything, it's cool that we have that option. it's like... gaming patches but for writing... version 1.1.

i'm sorry that this probably wasn't very helpful, but i hope there is at least a little something of use here hjkrtme

#answered #Anonymous

16 notes · View notes

icancdramahanfu · 3 years ago

Text

Making the first layer of Wen Ke Xing’s outfit - the Zhong Yi/中衣 top.

In my previous post, I laid out all of the items I have used to date to draft my basic pattern. The best thing about using the Hanfu Pattern Making book by TT Duong is that it tells you where to make adjustments between layers. Like add 1/4″ for layer 2 and then 1/2″ for layer 3 etc. I realized with how form fitting my layer 2 draft was, I had inadvertently determined my layer 1 measurements. Now, WKX’s outfits generally have wider sleeves than ZZS; I made a guess as to how wide to make it and the overall shape.

I am not sure if I will make the matching black pants that are underneath, I’m already looking at four layers in total and I currently live in a literal desert sooooo, yeah, I might just go pant less. However, the pattern guidebook tells you how to make the matching pants! I’m the best spokesperson for the book. Support the author, buy the book!

References include this action shot here:

Where we can see the white fabric follows the general shape of the teardrop shaped sleeves. I also used the scene here to find a guide so that the armpit fabric wouldn’t be too bulky here.

The top of the sleeve where it connects to the main part of the garment is pretty narrow as, there are usually 2-3 layers on top of that. I figured I’d keep the sleeve pretty wide for two reasons 1.) to test out how it flows and 2.) I can always make it smaller to fit inside the layers above it.

To keep my measurements straight, I turned to the layer one pattern in the book for the general shape but to transfer my current measurements.

I redrew a rough sketch of the shirt and drafted a fresh pattern on more wrapping paper (this time Christmas trees instead of the fun sprinkles). I made the curve on the neckline even smaller taking it down to 1/8″ of an inch as I liked how the 1/4″ curve looked on my second mock-up which was on top of another layer of fabric.

These are my rough sketches which I transferred to the wrapping paper with all of my measurements. All numbers are based on the previous mock-ups in my initial post and the only major adjustment was to make it shorter in length from below the waist and to change the curve at the corners to be much smaller. With the pattern pieces, I made sure to vertically align it with the selvedge edge of the fabric and was cautious with my spacing, trying to keep enough open fabric for the sleeves and the neck placket. Cutting the fabric:

Before cutting out the fabric, I made sure to sharpen my scissors with a block for knives. I then patiently traced my pattern onto the fabric and slowly cut it out. For some reason, I lack patience when it comes to cutting fabric. Not sure why. Sewing order:

The book smartly instructs you to 1.) first sew the sleeve onto the shoulder. This is brilliant advice! Take that complicated Western patterns where you have to artfully pin the fabric together and then slowly sew it together. After you sew the shoulder and sleeve together press your seams down with an iron.

2.) Sew the back seam together with right sides pinned to each other. Press down with iron.

3.) Sew the armpit/side seam/sleeve - I started just past the curve into the underside of the sleeve. Due to the large size of the sleeve it was annoying. I then went back to the base of the side seam of the garment and kept about 3-4 inches open and sewed in the direction from the waist to the armpit.

With this being the first layer, I first sewn the actual seam and then went back and overlocked the fabric in. For future layers, I will likely overlock before sewing to prevent fraying. If I you have a serger use that instead; I don’t, soooo overlock stitching is my friend.

With the top almost complete in three easy steps I then turned to the neck placket.

Neck placket fun times:

The neck placket was a little more complicated and I cut lots of extra fabric. I also doubled the width of the placket. Hanfu Pattern Making suggests a width of 2″ with about 1/4″ more for seam allowance. Just looking at the outfit and knowing that Gong Jun is 6″ tall, I guessed that the placket on his collars was wider than 2″, since you fold it over making it only 1″ wide in reality.

I made a neck placket that was 4″ wide and almost 40″ long. The best way to approach the neck placket is to think it is a giant piece of bias tape. Fold it in half and press with your iron. Make sure to fold under the edges by about 1/8-1/5″ so you don’t have a raw edge.

I cut out a 2″ strip of medium weight interfacing that was around 6″ long. Line up the middle of the interfacing with the middle of your giant bias tape/neck placket. Press the interfacing into place with your iron (if it is fuse-able) and then pin the neck placket onto the raw edge of the collar neckline. Make sure that halfway point of the placket is lined up with the back seam, which should be in line with your spine. With the placket edges folded under and it as a giant piece of bias tape, I pinned it in place and top stitched it with the right side up. I did this so I could keep my hemline neat all along the collar placket and I took it all the way down to the waistline edge, where you will add the shirt ties at the end.

You can add the neck placket how ever you feel, but this worked best for me. The curve of the neckline puckered a bit. I think this is a combination of the relatively stiff cotton fabric I used and being too aggressive in the curve. I went in afterwards and removed a few seams with a seam ripper to remove some of the puckering. Since the placket is thick enough, removing those few seams didn’t change anything and took out a few of the puckers. I think the actual outfits are made with a more stretchy fabric or they adjusted the tension while sewing to allow it to have more give and looseness.

Hemming the edges: For the slits on the side I did tiny folds; I folded the edge less than 1/8″, pressed with my iron, folded again by about 1/8″, pressed and pinned it. The vertical sides were covered with my extra neck placket bias tape. I don’t think I’ll do this with future layers, but I wanted to give it enough weight to stay fixed and lay relatively flat.

The edges of the sleeves was made by folding the hem over twice (pressing each time you fold it) and then double stitching it. This is the almost finished item, just missing adding the waist ties to the inside and outside of the left half. I very much like how the armpit turned out, a few inches of it being narrow before curving out.

The sleeve needs to be ironed, as the curve keeps wanting to fold in. I also didn’t realize how thin the fabric was until properly folding it over. Granted, I am wearing a black tank top underneath, but the contrast between the neck placket and the rest of the garment is pretty obvious.

You can see how wide the sleeve is and even with folding the edge back to make the hem, it still falls past the first knuckle on my hand. Overall, I’m happy this this so far. I need to wash and iron the shirt to remove all of the markers and try to get some of the seams to lay down properly. I am tempted to try to make this with some cotton jersey since that has more give in it (think t-shirt material) to make it look more like the layer in the drama.

But still one can even tell that the fabric in the drama outfit isn’t super thick because the cuff of the sleeve is more opaque than the rest of the sleeve, when you look at the image of them at night.

That’s all for now. Next up is making the second layer with my red cotton calico fabric.

#hanfu #hanfu pattern #pattern drafting #word of honor #wen kexing #sha he ling #WOH #shl #cosplay #historical dress #cdrama #cdrama dress

92 notes · View notes

mediawhorefics · 4 years ago

Note

Me reading you saying you're very creatively fulfilled right now : 🥺🥺🥺🥰🥰🥰👏👏👏 more than well deserved

(also seconding that TTS is perfect the way it ends and is and stands as a piece of work, readers should remember that no matter how much they love a piece, pushing for more, especially on a finished piece, is often not wanted)

oh anon that means so much to me. i feel kind of bad sharing about the stuff i’m working on on here because... well, they’re all personal projects/original fiction and def not for the fandom so i feel like most people on here just... prob. wouldn’t care. but it means the world to know that some of y’all <33 i’ve been in such a dark place creatively this year and it’s just been.... so so hard, so making progress like this on my novel. and kind of ?? embracing the imperfections and the super rough nature of the draft has been really .... idk healing. so yeah i’m feeling quite good creatively :)

and thank you for saying that about tts’ ending. it’s pretty special to me and it does feel a bit crap sometimes when people ask for more. even though i know it often comes from a place of love and enthusiasm for what i made.

#about me #nice people saying nice things #Anonymous

5 notes · View notes

fidothefinch · 5 years ago

Text

Whumptober, Day 26: Abandoned

This is a rough draft. No proofreading, and I only half-developed some of the ideas I wanted to. They’ll get fixed before I post it on Ao3, whenever that ends up happening.

Continuation of Day 2: Explostion.

Warnings: injury, blood, kidnapping, threats of violence

“Drake.”

Tim peeled his eyes open and let them shut again with a groan. The room was dark, but it was still too bright; it made his headache flare up in a way that made his entire body tense.

“Where are you hurt? I cannot—I can’t reach you. Please look at me.”

It was Damian.

And he sounded… scared.

Tim steeled himself, and managed to pry one eye open again, albeit more slowly this time. Damian’s pinched face—Tim used to think it was anger, but he knew now it was worry—stared back at him, from about three yards away. The smaller boy’s arms were wrapped around a large wooden support beam, legs framing it also. Tim stared, brain not able to piece out why until Damian shifted with a grimace and Tim caught a glimpse of coarse rope around his wrists.

“Tt. You are still concussed.” Damian gave him another once-over, and his features hardened. “Don’t fall asleep again.”

Tim wondered when he had fallen asleep. He brushed the thought aside before it could turn to wondering how long Damian had been trying to wake him up.

Squinting to reduce the glare, he took a better stock of their surroundings. There were small gaps between the dark wood slats of the floor, and it creaked as he shifted his weight around. (He was out long enough to get a crick in his back, at least.) The wall was made with the same material, letting in diagonal shafts of sunlight. They were sitting in a loft, the fourth wall nonexistent and opening up to the rest of the bare wood building. Stray bits of hay stuck out from crevices in the floor and walls.

“A barn?” Tim’s hands were trapped behind himself, around a beam similar to Damian’s. He tested the give in his ropes. No-go. When he leaned his head back, he could feel his jacket rubbing against the old wood behind himself. “Alfred’s going to have a fit when he sees our suits.”

Damian made a weird face at him, and Tim remembered with a rush that Damian��s hearing had been damaged by the explosion. “Can you hear me?”

Damian rested his cheek against the beam he was hugging. “Yes.” Then, considering his answer, he added, “Mostly.”

“Good. That’s good.” Tim tried to shift himself back, to relieve the pressure on his shoulders, but froze with a hiss when a sharp pain snapped up his leg. “That’s bad.”

Damian tried to lean closer. “The nail. Are you still bleeding?”

Tim was careful not to jostle his leg. “Doesn’t look like it. I should be good as long as I don’t move too much.”

Damian’s face was grim. He looked a lot like Bruce, when he pressed his lips together like that. “We are not in Gotham.”

There was a groan from beneath them, a door creaking open. Tim perked instantly, listening for footsteps.

Damian didn’t seem to notice. “Father and the police should arrive soon,” he said, voice not lowering at all. “I activated the tracking device in your watch while we were being transported.”

Tim’s eyes widened. He counted two pairs of footsteps stilling on the floor beneath them.

“It shouldn’t be too hard to—”

“Shhh,” Tim hushed.

Damian’s brow furrowed in irritation. Then he blanched with understanding, eyes following Tim’s glances to the empty floor below.

He had been lying about being able to hear. Mostly.

“Oh, no. Don’t stop on my behalf,” a low voice laughed from below them. Tim tensed, listening as more footsteps entered the barn, and the first two starting creaking up steps. When a head of dark hair bobbed into view, Tim recognized it as one of the men from the conference center. The one who had initially threatened him. Followed by the one who had threatened Damian.

The two men stopped behind Damian, maybe deliberately. The boy struggled to turn enough to see them. His hands were purple.

“What was that you were telling your brother?” The first one asked, teasingly.

Damian growled. So he could hear. A little.

“A tracking device in his watch?”

Without needing prompting, the second man stalked toward Tim and crouched behind him. A cold knife slithered between his wrist and the watchband, and the band broke under the pressure and fell heavily into the man’s palm. “Got it,” he answered.

If Tim strained his eyes, he could make out the faint red light of the activated emergency button.

“Hmm,” the first man hummed. “Tell Darby to drop it in the woods. Don’t want to risk Wayne finding them prematurely.”

Tim and Damian’s faces went carefully blank when the watch was tossed over the side of the loft.

“Are there any on you?” The first one asked, nonchalantly.

Damian stiffened. “No.”

“Are you sure?” The first man nodded, still out of Damian’s sight, and the second one rounded on Tim, eyeing his injured leg in a way that made Tim’s mouth go dry.

Damian licked his lips. “There was one in my phone.”

The second one knelt on Tim’s shin, pinning his leg down.

“What are you—stop!” Damian shouted.

Tim saw white. A cut-off grunt bubbled out of his throat. The man tapped the nail in his leg again, smiling when Tim tried to instinctively curl and was pulled up short.

“Stop!” Damian gasped, jerking against the ropes holding him still. “There aren’t any more!”

The first man wrapped his fingers in Damian’s hair and yanked his head back to look in his face. “You sure about that?”

“Let—let go of him,” Tim muttered between grit teeth. “He’s telling the truth.”

The fingers in Damian’s hair didn’t loosen. The smaller boy was having trouble breathing in the uncomfortable position.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“Damian wasn’t supposed to be there. I got the security sweep before going; he didn’t.”

The first guy looked down into Damian’s face with interest. “Wayne let his kid out without a guard?”

Damian scowled. “I can take care of myself.” His voice sounded slightly strangled from the odd angle of his neck.

The man next to Tim laughed, shifting his weight in a way that made his knee grind into Tim’s shin. “Sure you can, kid.”

The man behind Damian finally let go of his hair. Damian bowed his face forward and curled his knees up while he gasped for breath.

“Hey, Frank. Have you sent that picture to Wayne yet?”

The man, Frank, eased up off of Tim’s leg, and Tim sucked in a deep breath. “Not yet.”

“How many hostages do we need to get Wayne to hand over money?”

Tim’s heart skipped a beat. “No—”

“Just the one,” Frank answered easily.

“Take the smaller one.”

Tim jerked forward. “Wait—”

“The older one’s not going to tell us anything useful, and he’s already beat up. Plus, the kid doesn’t have any trackers on him.” The man behind Damian pinned him down while Frank cut through the rope. Damian’s wrists were bleeding, his fingers purple. They pulled his arms behind himself and tied them in place with a new length of rope.

Damian spat every curse he knew as they dragged him to his feet. “Unhand me! My father will make you pay for this!”

They ignored him until he stomped on Frank’s insole. Frank shouted a curse and shook his foot. The first man retaliated by dropping Damian, who only stood a moment before losing his balance and fumbling to the floor again.

His balance was still off from his concussion.

“Listen, brat. We’re leaving, and you’re going to come quietly.”

“I’m not leaving without Timothy.”

Tim blinked. Damian almost never used his first name.

“The Drake kid is staying here.”

Tim froze. Something about the words rubbed him the wrong way.

“Then so am I.” The scrunch in Damian’s face was definitely anger now.

Frank’s hand disappeared into his jacket and returned with an oblong blob. Tim strained to see what it was, but the sudden click and flash of light made it pretty clear.

A lighter.

Frank smiled, waving the lighter through the air in front of Damian’s face. “Come with us or we’ll leave him and toss this in on our way out.”

Tim’s head pounded too hard to do mental calculations, but with the amount of old hay and dry wood, he estimated the building would be consumed within ten minutes. No way Tim could escape in time.

Damian must have come to the same conclusion, because his eyes widened. “Don’t.”

Frank flipped the lighter off again. “Up to you, kid.” He hauled Damian up to his feet, this time with little resistance.

The other man walked back over to Tim, eyes scrutinizing. “You don’t have any other trackers?”

There was no point in lying. Tim shrugged. “Hard to tell. Bruce is paranoid.”

The man hummed under his breath, then crouched down in front of Tim. “Then I need to make sure you can’t follow us.”

The words registered right as he pulled the nail out of Tim’s leg.

Tim couldn’t help the ugly yelp of pain he made. It was a deep, unending pain. The nail was construction-grade, and the bloody tip came out nearly three inches long. The wound began to bleed again. Tim couldn’t apply pressure.

The man dropped the nail on the floor next to Tim with nonchalance.

“Timothy! You bastards! Let him go!”

Tim dully recognized Damian’s face, red from being upside-down, straining to twist around far enough to see him.

And then, Frank carried him away. The other man left. Tim listened as the last footsteps retreated through the downstairs barn door, and a car started outside.

The engines got further and further away, until he couldn’t hear them anymore.

#fido writes #whumptober #batfam #tim drake #damian wayne #tim & damian

83 notes · View notes

cdelphiki · 5 years ago

Text

Jason and the Three Terrors, ch 2, rough draft. 3292 words.

prologue, chapter 1

I love sharing my WIPs, so I’ll probably keep on sharing what I’m doing on this. Everything will get a revision before it’s posted to AO3, eventually, so just keep in mind this is a WIP. :) Let me know what you think, even if it’s you don’t think something is working. (I can take it if you’re nice. lol)

Mara was blissfully silent the rest of the trek to the cliff. Her blatant distrust and outright snobbery was not, at all, helping Jason’s already frayed nerves.

This whole whatever was going on better not last too long. Jason would gladly help Talia get the kiddos to safety somewhere, just as long as that was it. He wanted to go back to training as soon as possible, or whatever. He had no idea what he wanted to do with his life, in all honesty. Training was at least productive. Trying not to murder a couple little brats would not be.

When they finally reached the cliff, Jason was annoyed to see Talia hadn’t beaten him there. The fact that she wasn’t there was extra annoying, too, because the boy was. And he didn’t look any happier than Mara was to be woken in the middle of the night.

Damian, Jason presumed, was sitting on his backpack. He started glaring at Mara the second the two of them turned the corner, around some rocks, and came into view. Jason kind of wanted to nope it right out of there. Have nothing to do with any of this.

“Tt,” the kid huffed, as he stood and crossed his arms to address Mara, “What are you doing here?”

And holy guacamole Jason could definitely see the Bruce in this kid. He was the spitting fucking image of Bruce Wayne. The only thing Talia about this kid was his eyes. And his complexion.

“Lady Talia summoned me,” Mara responded, stopping about fifteen feet away from Damian. Jason paused with her, although he wasn’t sure why, but he figured the brat knew her brother way better than Jason did. Considering Jason didn’t know him at all.

Both kids rested hands on the hilts of their swords, and Jason groaned internally. They weren’t going to get violent, were they?

Holy-sibling-rivalry, Batman.

“My mother asked me to meet her here, of course. Why she would summon you is beyond me,” Damian said, all but sticking his little snot nose right up in the air.

“You must be the servant Mother mentioned,” Damian added, turning his gaze to Jason as he looked Jason up and down before rolling his eyes, “You don’t look like much.”

And yep. Jason was gonna have to work on that not-smacking-children thing.

“I am not a servant, you little brat,” Jason said, taking his bag off and dropping it on the ground, so he could sit on it, “And that’s no way to speak to your sister.”

“This bastard is not my sister,” Damian declared, at the same time Mara said, “I am not his sister.”

“Wait, what?” Jason said, completely thrown now.

What the fuck did that even mean? If Mara wasn’t his sister, then what was she? And why did Talia call her one of her ‘children?’

It would make sense, though… Since Mara looked nothing like Bruce. Jason would believe Mara and Damian were related, but even then it was kind of stretching it. That had far more to do with her complexion. And eyes.

The only two things Damian had from Talia….

Jason would easily believe half-sister. But then they wouldn’t have agreed on ‘not’ sister.

So what the fuck was Mara?

“I said, this bastard is not my sister, why would you assume-”

“Why are you being an asshole?” Jason interrupted, because sister or not, that was no way to speak about the little girl. “I think you owe her an apology.”

“You watch your tongue, peasant,” Damian growled, scowling at Jason and absolutely not apologizing to Mara, “You will not order me around.”

Oh boy.

“Are you both gonna call me peasant? Cause that’s just rude.”

“Tt,” Damian huffed, drawing his sword, “I will not be insulted by one of Mother’s servants.”

Jason hopped up and further away from Damian while he held his two hands out placatingly. “Look, kid, I told ya, I’m not a servant, so I’m gonna talk to you however I damn well please. But it’s no reason to get all stabby, yeah? So how about you put down the sword.”

“Damian,” Mara said, then switched to Arabic as she said, “He claims he did not know of our existence until Lady Talia ordered him to bring me here.”

“How could a servant possibly not know who I am?” Damian responded in like, and Jason just rolled his eyes. These stupid little brats acting like they could have a conversation right in front of his face. Yeah right. His Arabic wasn’t perfect, but he wasn’t terrible, either.

“I am not a servant,” he replied, also in Arabic. If either child was startled he could understand them, they didn’t show it. “Stop calling me one.”

“Then what are you?” Damian asked dryly, crossing his arms as he turned to face Jason.

“Like I told Mara, Talia trains me.”

Damian scowled, likely at his lack of ‘respect’ for his mother. These brats thinking they were royalty. And that Jason would even care about that. But then his face softened as he looked at Jason assessingly. “Ah. Then you are Mother’s pet. I have heard of you.”

“Pet?” Jason objected, “I’m not a fucking pet.”

“You would be wise to watch your-” Damian started, in a nasty little snarl as he pointed his sword at Jason, but was cut off by Jason’s current favorite person on the planet.

Because Talia Al Ghul said sharply, “Damian,” from just out of their sight, causing the little brat to snap to attention at his mother’s chastisement.

“Mother,” Damian said, turning to face Talia just as she rounded the corner, and froze, cutting off whatever argument he had been gearing up to share.

Right along with Jason.

Because in Talia’s arms was another kid.

This one was clinging to Talia in a way Jason would expect a kid to do at 3 in the morning, her arms wrapped tightly around Talia’s neck and her face buried into Talia’s hair.

“Jason is an ally and you will treat him with respect,” Talia said, exhaustedly, as she coaxed the little girl in her arms to sit up and look around.

Damian scoffed, rolling his eyes and whole head dramatically, as if Talia had just asked of him the world, then motioned at the little girl and said, “And who is she?”

Talia narrowed her eyes at Damian, then said, “He is your brother, Damian, you will respect him. And this is your sister.”

Jason opened his mouth to protest that instantly, because he was not a brother. He did not have brothers. Or sisters. Or fathers. No one. He had no family, and he was perfectly fine with that. He refused to allow Talia to trap him like this into family and all the bullshit that accompanied that. Especially not with such little brats.

But before he even got one syllable out, he was shut down by the nasty glare Talia shot him.

“My-” Damian said, then just stared helplessly at Talia for a moment before steeling himself and declaring, “I do not have siblings.”

“Are you questioning me, child?” Talia said warningly, causing Damian to stand just a little straighter, before she softened her voice and said, “This is Athanasia.”

Talia set the girl down on her feet and Athanasia didn’t let go of Talia’s hand. In fact, she stepped behind Talia, just slightly, and looked between Damian, Jason, and Mara with a tiny little smile on her face. After a second, she waved and hid her face behind Talia.

“Hi,” Jason said dumbly, not sure how else to react. He’d already met two other kids, so what was a third, right? But Athanasia seemed incredibly shy, while the other two were aggressively, well… everything. Aggressive. And damn was she adorable.

When Damian looked at Talia searchingly, rather than speak to Athanasia, Talia sighed. “I kept her secret,” she explained, her hand carding through the little girl’s hair absently, “so that Father would not take her from me.”

Damian shook his head, and Jason looked over to see a whole slew of emotions flickering across Damian’s face. Hurt. Betrayal. Confusion. Anger. It was kind of making Jason feel bad for the little brat. What had he been subjected to that Talia clearly didn’t want Athanasia to suffer?

“Damian,” Talia said, letting go of her daughter to close the distance between her and Damian. Once she’d knelt down to Damian’s height, she put a hand on his cheek and whispered, “My love,” before pulling him into a very long hug, that Damian clearly found to be incredibly confusing.

If this kid honestly wasn’t used to hugs, Jason would gladly hike across all of Afghanistan, if that’s what it took to get him away from here. Brat or not.

“Mother, what is happening?” Damian asked, his voice a near whisper.

Talia pulled him back, placing her hands on either side of his face. “We are leaving, my prince, so you and your sister may grow up in safety.”

“We are defecting?” Mara asked, her voice partially incredulous, and partly shaken.

“Mother,” Damian said in alarm, pulling away from her touch, “We cannot-”

“I will not betray my Grandfather,” Mara said, this time with much more confidence as she took a few steps back from them all.

“We are Al Ghuls,” Damian asserted, scowling at Talia, “Mother, be reasonable.”

“Silence,” Talia shouted, when the two of them delved into speaking over one another in protest. Both children, amusingly, snapped their mouths shut instantly and stood at attention for Talia, who just sighed. “We haven’t a choice.”

“What possible reason could we have for defecting,” Mara asked, taking a step back from Talia, as if she were about to turn and bolt to get away from them.

“Father learned of Athanasia’s existence, and ordered her and Mara to face each other in battle,” Talia said, and the sheer bitterness on her face was staggering.

Then her words sank in.

“Holy shit,” his whispered, “Like to death?” He wanted one of them to kill the other?

Just looking at Athanasia and Mara, Jason had no doubt Mara would win that. But what kind of damage would that cause Mara? Had she already killed? Probably, right? Jason had killed a few times, himself. All while on missions, which were part of his training. It bothered him, a little. Sometimes. When he let himself think about it. But he was 16. He was 16 and chose this. Plus, all his targets have been adults. Horrible adults, at that. Human traffickers, child rapists, baby killers. All of them deserved it.

But a little girl, barely up to his waist? Probably 6 years old, if Jason had to guess? What would killing her do to Mara? She wouldn’t have a choice. She’d live the rest of her life knowing she took the life of an innocent child. Would she be able to live with herself?

Talia nodded grimly, and Jason could feel the fire in his blood start to burn.

“I could-” Mara started, only to pale and take another step back, looking up at Talia anxiously, “If it is what Grandfather orders…”

She could kill Athanasia, she meant, Jason was sure. Of course she could.

But she shouldn’t have to.

No child should have to live with that. Fuck Ra’s Al Ghul for even suggesting such thing. Jason was immensely grateful that he was no where near Ra’s at the moment, because had he been in the compound he’s fairly certain he would have barged into Ra’s quarters and punched him right in the face. As it was, all he had was his duffle bag, so he kicked it as hard as he could. His knives clanged against each other, and the bag skidded across the snow covered dirt a good six feet, stopped only by one of the many rocks surrounding them.

“Fuck him,” he growled, clenching and unclenching his fists. He needed something to hit. All he had around him were rocks, though. Rocks and children and Talia. He’d either hurt his hands or immensely regret his life choices, so instead he flung himself down on his bag and sat there, trying his best to calm his breathing and chill.

Everyone was staring at him, he noticed, when he looked up, so he closed his eyes in order to practice meditating in the way Talia had taught him, when she learned of his ‘anger management’ problems. He still had to roll his eyes at that. Since his anger was never unjustified, he didn’t see much of a problem with having it. But whatever.

“Mara,” Talia said after a minute, and Jason’s eyes snapped open at her her tone. Because she sounded so kind and almost… loving. Jason would expect that tone from a mother to her child, but everyone had been clear Mara wasn’t her daughter.

It’s a tone he’d heard from Catherine, many times. Jason, darling, she’d say, and no matter the circumstances, or why she was using it, the tone always made him feel safe. Like a warm blanket being wrapped around him, his mother’s words were more comforting, no matter what message they delivered.

Talia’s words clearly had the same effect on Mara, because her shoulders drop, slightly, as Talia knelt before her and repeated, “Mara, my niece. Do you think so little of yourself that you believe it acceptable to be pitted against an untrained child to prove your worthiness at life?”

Mara froze so visibly at that, Jason just wanted to get up and go murder Ra’s for sure. Because what the fuck was this. Damian wasn’t used to hugs, Mara wasn’t used to hearing someone affirm her worth in life, and Athanasia was standing off to the side, clinging desperately to a stuffed cat that apparently materialized out of no where. Perhaps she pulled it from the backpack she was wearing.

In fact, Athanasia looked downright terrified, in all honesty. Talia must not have told her about the whole battle-to-the-death thing. Her little body was trembling, and her face was ghost white as she looked pleadingly at Talia, whose attention was still on Mara.

“I-” Mara said, then paused and shook her head.

“Tt,” huffed Damian, rolling his eyes as he took a step closer to Talia and Mara, putting himself within arms reach of Talia, “She is not.”

“Damian,” Talia hissed, and Jason had enough of this.

He stood slowly, so not to draw attention to himself, and slowly made his way over to the trembling little girl lost in the background.

He knelt down next to her, earning only a wary glance before he said, “They’re pretty loud, huh?”

Athanasia nodded slowly, as Damian started ranting about their station and honor or some other nonsense. Talia was pinching the bridge of her nose, and Jason was suddenly glad he wasn’t the little brat. Because he was fairly certain Damian was about to get told off. Or maybe even smacked.

“So you’re my little sister, huh?” he asked, suddenly wondering whether the little girl spoke much English. If she were kept secret from everyone, it was unlikely she’d had much of an education. “How old are you?” he asked, in Arabic this time.

“Seven,” she whispered in Arabic, so Jason figured he’d just stick with it.

“Seven, huh? That’s a good age. I’m sixteen.”

When all the little girl did was take a deep, shaky breath, Jason inched a little closer. “Hey,” he whispered, resisting the urge to reach out and hug her, “There’s no reason to be scared.” Athanasia turned her head to look at Jason, so he added, “Not with me around. I’m your big brother, right?”

She nodded.

“And do you know what big brothers do?”

“No,” she whispered, pulling her stuffed cat up closer to her face.

“We protect our little sisters and make sure nothing bad happens to them.”

The tiny little smile Athanasia graced Jason with made him just grin wider. He could already tell he was going to like this kid. She was just so damn cute.

“Does your cat have a name?” he asked, after looking over at Talia and seeing her speaking quietly to the other two kids, still. He couldn’t make out what she was saying, but both of them were absolutely entranced by her, so he figured she was getting through to them and convincing them to ‘defect’ from this damn cult.

Athanasia held her cat out so Jason could see her better and said, “Kitty,” in English.

“That is an excellent name.” Jason reached out and ‘pet’ the cat before Athanasia snatched it back and hugged onto it again. “Do you know how old Damian is?”

“He is eight,” she said, louder and more confident now. She’d quit shaking, too. Jason still had that urge to just hug her, though. Maybe she wouldn’t stab him, if he did.

“How old is Mara?” he asked instead.

Athanasia shrugged.

“Jason,” Talia said, successfully gaining his attention as she stood to address all of them, “We should get moving, we do not have time to waste.”

“Sure.” Jason stood and slung his back over his shoulder, then smiled down at Athanasia as she followed him to join Talia and the kids. “So what’s the plan?”

“We will hike to Kabul and fly out of there,” Talia explained, pulling out a small device from her bag, which appeared to be a GPS of some sort. Which was good, because Jason knew for a fact there were no roads anywhere near them.

Which… just meant this was about to be one hell of a hike. Because most of it was going to be through mountains and desert…

“Mother,” Damian said, shuffling to catch up as Talia began walking southwest, “That is a week’s hike.”

“Yes, my son. Father will be expecting us to cross into Pakistan or Tajikistan and catch a ride, so we will not.”

Jason slowed, a little, so that all the children were walking ahead of him, and took up the rear. Athanasia grasped onto Talia’s hand, and Damian just scowled at the little girl.

Oh boy, he thought. The next week was going to be hell.

“Do we have enough supplies for this,” Jason asked uneasily, mentally cataloging everything he had in his bag. Which was mostly weapons, clothing, and very basic sleeping supplies. No food or water. He did have an empty water bottle that he could fill, if he wanted to risk drinking melted snow, which he didn’t. Hopefully they’d stumble upon enough springs…

Talia waived their concerned off with a simple, “My pack is almost entirely food, do not despair.”

Looking at her backpack, Jason had doubts. While it was a decent size, he was having a hard time believing she had enough food for four people for a week. Maybe if it were entirely protein bars…

“Do you not trust me?” Talia asked harshly, apparently sensing his hesitancy. After sighing, she added, “If you are worried, we will encounter a village in four days where we can replenish our supplies and perhaps sleep for the night.”

“Where will we fly to, Lady Talia,” Mara asked, as she trailed along behind Damian.

“N-” Talia started, then halted throwing her arms out in either direction to stop the rest of them from walking forward. “We have been found,” she whispered harshly, turning and pushing them all in the opposite direction, “Run.”

They didn’t have a chance, though.

Because not even a step into their retreat, the sound of a gun firing engulfed the previously quiet mountain soundscape, the bullet whistling right past Jason’s ear.

And when he looked back, he saw the smug face of Deathstroke grinning back at them.

#Jason Todd #wip wednesday #Jason and the three terrors #jtat3t #Its like half rough draft half first revision #because the last 2000 words have been revised already #but the first 1000 I didnt even reread today #so yeah keep that in mind #but YAY finally I'm to the first big event #I don't know much about Deathstroke but I think it's pretty in character what he's about to do...?#hopefully #anyway after I write chapter 3 it should be SO MUCH EASIER to write this damn story #and maybe I'll start doing at least a chapter a week and get that much closer to publishing this

101 notes · View notes

ticktockstuck · 4 years ago

Text

Year 7 Retrospective & Looking Forward into Year 8

Hello, everyone! TickTockStuck is officially eight years old today!

Our previous Looking Forward hoped that our 7th year of operations would’ve been a lucky year for us. Aside from how absolutely and completely wrong of a prediction that turned out to be for the world in general, TickTockStuck actually accomplished quite a bit! To wit:

The Flag Friday project finished up, and to those who have only come in recently and want to learn more about Tick-Tock Town itself, there’s a handy masterpost available for you [ right here ].

Can you believe the TTS Extended Zodiac hasn’t even been running for a year yet? That anniversary is coming up on the 29th and in the time since it started it’s gotten over 350 signs up! It’s coming back soon, and if you haven’t already checked it out it has a whole sideblog dedicated to it [ over here ].

We started up a new series of Biology Lessons to deep dive into some of the more notable biological quirks the citizens of the Verse have. So far there’s only two entries, for slimy Gels like Tyzias and Galekh and telepaths like Marsti and Chixie, but see below for future plans and see [ here ] to check our existing posts.

We started getting some new subpages for the blog up! Firstly was the [ Daemondex ], where information about the various types of haunt in the Verse is kept, and recently we got ourselves a new [ Aspect Catalog ] for all the aspects of the Verse. And they’re still updating! See below for future plans regarding both of these pages, and future ones.

Multiple updates to [ the Atlas ]! Multiple planets were added, some rearranged, and some just given more fleshed-out entries. New entries in the Atlas are for the Land of Tainted Elixir and Radiant Salt, the Land of Dunes and Darkness, the Land of Smoke and Mirrors, the Land of Vines and Masquerade, the Land of Fortune and Marble, and the Land of Ice and Towers.

In order to make sure some of these heftier updates could get out on a regular basis I had to put a more-or-less moratorium on some of our lighter content like the Fun Facts™ for a time, but we’ve slowly been rolling those back into our weekly posts. They’ll be back for the foreseeable future, and with them are some other heftier updates. Given the state of everything right now there’s definitely a lot up in the air, but my to-do list for now includes (amongst other points):

We’ve still got a few more updates in store for the Atlas, some planets left to provide entries for, plus the eventual visual update I have in mind for when it becomes a full subpage like the current Daemondex and Aspect Log. Speaking of which, both are due for further changes, and soon.

The Daemondex is due for a brand new section on Painful Demons and a requested entry to go in as soon as I can get the work in on them, and

The Aspect Log still needs two aspects to round out the canon twelve but future updates are going to start covering the virtue/vice aspects of the Verse! As part of those updates, symbols and the associated color palettes for various aspects of the Verse will be forthcoming.

Any art-related assets are in Nebulous Release territory for reasons I won’t reiterate here but they are being worked on. The big holdups in that territory are the shipbeasts (of which we got a new request earlier this year), the aforementioned new demon, and the remaining Troll Call trolls.

The reworking of the Cast Page is still forthcoming; considering how many different characters there are running around the Verse the eventual broken-into-subpages are going to need a lot of art assets and I don’t have a solid ETA on how long it’s going to take to get all those together.

More Versal Biology Lessons are on the horizon, and I’m already drafting up entries for firebreathers (like Bronya and Polypa) and star-skinned folks like Kanaya and a certain Harley.

Our previous Looking Forward brought up the idea of finishing off the rest of the sprite edits (for the Felt, the dancestors, etc). That’s still a goal, but I’m adding a secondary goal on top of that to revamp some of the old sprites since some of them are still pretty rough and others could use a design uplifting.

On that last point: there’s a lot for us to get caught up with in Year 8...so why not start taking bullets off of this list right away? I’m actually already in the process of re-spriting some of the originals and making new sprites for characters that have gone far too long without them, and the Alphas are first up!

Stop back in an hour for a new-and-improved June and a brand new Jane!

#ticktockstuck

2 notes · View notes

choicesfanatic86 · 7 years ago

Text

TTS: Part 10 (Liam x MC)

DISCLAIMER: All characters belong to Pixelberry Studios, except characters unique to my story. Those belong to me. ;)

PAIRINGS: Riley (MC) x OC, Riley (MC) x Liam, Liam x Riley (MC) x OC, Olivia x Drake, Bertrand x Savannah, Maxwell x OC

SUMMARY: Even when all she had wanted to do was forget, all she could do was remember.

TAGS: @herladyshipxx @theroyalweisme @blackcatkita @devineinterventions2 @hopefulmoonobject @captainkingliam @pbchoicesobsessed @queencatherynerhys @mfackenthal @cocomaxley @boneandfur @crayziimaginations @grapefrults @pessimystic-fangirl @bobasheebaby @dralenamax @mspaigemoore @drakelover78 @kaitycole @jayjay879 @hhiggs

If you are new to the series and would like to catch up by reading previous parts, please check out my master fan fiction listing. CATCH UP HERE

If you want to be added to the tag list, please let me know, and I can update you.

Okay guys, thank you so much for following along. I’m really enjoying the ride with ya’ll. Thank you for being so patient. I know you all are dying for their reunion to happen, and I promise. It’s coming. VERY SOON. <3

Part 11 will be dropping later today!

PART 9 - Whiskey & Apologies

When she awoke from her nap, most of the day was gone. She had planned to wake up and try Paul again, which she did, but once again, his phone went straight to voicemail. She threw her phone onto the bed. “So much for that,” she said to herself. She decided to catch up on some work and check in with Alicia instead. She grabbed her laptop deciding to do her work outside on the veranda. On her way outside, she stopped to make herself a cup of coffee to help keep her energized. When she was done in the kitchen, she caught Maxwell walking by.

“Busy?” Maxwell asked seeing Riley juggling her cup of coffee and her laptop.

“Work,” she sighed. “My assistant is great, but I still have to check in and make sure we haven’t had any meltdowns. Event planning can be so unpredictable.”

He nodded, “Don’t stay up too late now; we have ourselves a big day tomorrow.”

She nodded, although she still hadn’t decided if she were going to go to the derby at all. “You don’t stay up too late, either. Andy told me you were going to watch a movie tonight,” she smiled coyly.

Maxwell blushed. “Only because it’s the last weekend in theaters and Drake didn’t want to go. He told me he’s reached his weekly quota of me.” He was flustered, and it was adorable.

“Maxwell . . .” she said, a smile playing across her lips. “Have fun,” she winked at him. He smiled in return before rushing off to get ready for his date with Andy. Riley wasn’t sure exactly how she felt about Maxwell taking Andy out on a date. She knew it was entirely innocent. Having known Maxwell for as long as she did, she knew he couldn’t hurt a fly. She was happy that her two friends had found their own happiness . . . but it didn’t stop her from worrying about Andy. She could see Andy falling for the same Cordonian spell she had fallen for over two years ago. She wanted to protect her, but at the same time, she didn’t want to spoil her excitement. She was a big girl, and Maxwell was a big boy, both fully capable of making their own decisions. Still though, there was a part of her that worried about when it was time for them to go back to New York. Would Andy endure the same fate she had? Traveling eight hours on a plane leaving with a broken heart? She shook the thought from her mind. She was being ridiculous. She said it herself a few hours ago . . . it was just a movie. It wasn’t like it was a marriage proposal. Her mind drifted back to work as she slid the door to walk outside to the veranda.

As Riley sat at the glass dining table, she started to draft responses to the dozens of emails that had sat unread in her inbox. Alicia had been doing a wonderful job of apprising her of work happenings, and everything seemed to be under control. Alicia was just having some trouble putting together some new client bids, and had asked if Riley could draft a few when she had a spare moment. She enthusiastically had responded that she’d love to work on them. It would be a welcome distraction that she so desperately needed. She chose to work out on the veranda because the view of the connected gardens was stunning. Something about being outside soothed Riley’s soul.

As she started to tackle the first client bid, she heard the sliding door leading from the main house open carefully. She glanced up, noticing that it was Drake from out of the corner of her eye. She ignored him. She wasn’t in the mood for another argument. She needed to work on these bids, and fighting with Drake would just cause her to lose focus. She could hear his footsteps get closer. She heard him place something in front of her on the glass table. She didn’t bother to look up. Whatever game he was playing at, she wasn’t interested in participating. He cleared his throat loudly. “Lawson.”

She looked up from her laptop, narrowing her eyes at him. “Did you come here to yell at me again?” She asked annoyed. “Because I’m a little busy right now, but maybe I can pencil you in tomorrow sometime,” she snapped.

He shoved his hands in his pockets, stopping in front of her. “Mind if I sit?” He asked, motioning to the chair on the opposite side of the table.

“Yes,” she said quickly, turning back to her laptop to start typing again.

He ignored her reply, pulling the chair out and sitting across from her. She looked up at him in annoyance, and as he saw the irritation written across her face, he couldn’t help but smirk.

“Maxwell told me that I owe you an apology,” he started.

“You don’t owe me anything, Drake,” she replied curtly. “No one owes me anything.”

“Yeah, well, Savannah seems to agree with Maxwell,” He ran a hand through his hair staring at her.

“So they’re forcing you to apologize?” She raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t think you were the type of guy who took kindly to people telling you what to do.”

“Maybe I thought it was a pretty good idea, too,” he shrugged. He slid something over to her from across the table. “So I came with a peace offering.”

Riley looked around her laptop, she noticed the tall bottle of amber liquid and the two glasses next to it. “Whiskey?” she asked.

He nodded. “We seem to have a good track record for talking things out over alcohol,” he replied.

She contemplated his words. He was right. The first night she had gotten to know Drake . . . truly know him without all the pomp and ceremony of court . . . was when they snuck off to Olivia’s wine cellar early on in the social season. She didn’t know much about the broody commoner, just that he was a bit rough around the edges and a little stand offish. When she first met him, she didn’t want to let on that she was slightly intimidated by him. He wasn’t afraid to say exactly what was on his mind, and didn’t care about what any of the nobles thought about him. That night in Olivia’s cellar, she saw a different side to him - a softer side. Not that he’d ever admit it, but she knew he had opened himself up to her, probably more than he had ever opened up to anyone in quite a while.

In a way, she envied him a bit. Being at court had her constantly holding her tongue, which was something she just wasn’t used to doing. She was a lot like Drake back home. She worked in a bar after all. She had to be able to hold her own. Somehow, being at court had changed her. She was falling into the cookie-cutter image of what the perfect suitor should be, losing herself in the process.

Well, Riley wasn’t that girl anymore. She smirked, grabbing the bottle. She poured some into his glass, then some into hers. For a while, they sat across from each other in complete silence, nursing their whiskey slowly.

“So about that apology?” she asked slowly. He pulled the whisky bottle back over to him, pouring moer into his glass. He threw his second glass of whiskey back swiftly.

“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “I was an asshole,” he shrugged. “I guess I didn’t appreciate getting blindsided about you coming back, and I took it out on you.”

She nodded. “That was my fault. I didn’t want anyone knowing I was coming back. Didn’t really want too many people catching wind of it,” she explained.

“Including Liam?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yeah,” she shrugged.

After a while, she spoke again. “I’m sorry, too. What you said the other night . . . you were right. I didn’t handle things well, but I was so hurt, and so tired of all the sneaking around, and I guess I just lost it.” She finished her first glass, pouring herself another. “I wanted to hurt him,” she gripped her glass. “I wanted him to feel how I felt.” She looked down into her glass. “I guess I didn’t realize that I ended up hurting you guys in the process.”

He listened intently as she spoke, taking it all in. “I missed you when you left. I felt like a huge part of me left with you,” he said sadly. “I know I’m a hard ass, and don’t say it much, but I really cared about you. I still care about you. Probably a lot more than I should have.” He looked into her eyes deeply before turning away. “It’s probably why I took you leaving so hard.”

She blushed, nodding, understanding exactly what he meant. “I hope that one day you can understand why I had to leave,” she said.

“Riley, of course I understood. I understand it now,”’ he reasoned. “What Liam did . . . it was wrong.”

“Really? The other night . . . it seemed like you didn’t understand why I had to leave,” she said sadly.

He ran his hand across his neck, deep in thought. He paused for a moment before speaking. “Liam’s my best friend,” he began. “I guess I had some twisted sense of loyalty to him even though I knew he was wrong. Hell, he knew he was wrong, too,” he laughed hollowly. “I still shouldn’t have come at you the way that I did, you didn’t deserve that. I want us to be friends again. You think you’ll ever be able to forgive me?” he asked hopefully.

She nodded. “We’re good,” she smiled. They sipped their whiskey happily, chatting as they used, as if no time had passed. It was funny how right Drake had been . . . a little alcohol was all they needed to get through all the bullshit and awkwardness between them.

“So, time to talk about the elephant in the room,” she giggled, already feeling a bit tipsy from her third glass of whiskey.

He looked at her strangely. “I thought we were good?”

“I’m not talking about us . . . I’m talking about you and Olivia.”

He blushed, trying to play it cool. “What are you –“ he paused, clearly not expecting the turn in which their conversation had taken. “How’d you –“ He growled, thinking about something. “Did Maxwell tell you?”

She shook her head. “I saw you guys at the masquerade ball.”

Recollection spread across his face, a small smile playing on his lips. “Oh,” he blushed more deeply.

“So, I didn’t see that coming,” she laughed.

“Yeah, neither did I,” He shrugged. “We’re not exclusive or anything; we’re just two people who happen to tolerate one another’s company having a bit of fun.”

“It sure looked a lot more than just fun,” Riley teased.

He shook his head as he poured himself another glass, drinking it in one swig.

“Does she make you happy?” She asked.

He looked at her thoughtfully. “It’s not like that between us.”

“You keep saying that, but I don’t really understand what that means. It’s a simple question. Does she make you happy or not?”

“Of course she does . . . it’s just our situation isn’t built that way.” He tried to put the right words together. “We didn’t start off wanting anything more than a quick hook up. Then somewhere along the line it just . . . blew up into this thing. It’s not like I’m her boyfriend or anything.” He explained.

Riley smirked. “Keep telling yourself that,” she laughed. “So you’re the reason she spends so much time at court? Maxwell said she’s got a little set up going on at the palace.”

He blushed. “One of the reasons I suppose.” He took another swig from his glass. “Liam . . .he appointed her to be the Ambassador of International Relations. I don’t even know what it is really. He just gave her another damn reason to act all domineering around everyone,” he sighed.

She snorted. “Olivia as an Ambassador of International Relations?”

“I know, I couldn’t picture it at first either. I kept having this idea in my head that some foreign diplomat would piss her off, and suddenly she’d be declaring war on their country,” he laughed.

Riley laughed, too. “That’s the same thought I had.”

“How about you? Anybody making you happy nowadays,” he waggled his eyebrows at her.

“Don’t be gross,” she intoned. She thought of Paul again, a small smile creeping on her face. “I am seeing someone,” she said softly. “He’s pretty great.”

“Greater than Liam?” He asked.

She narrowed her eyes. “Drake . . .”

“Okay, I’m sorry alright. Old habits die hard,” he said. “Let’s blame it on the alcohol.”

She laughed. “Things are going pretty well . . . he’s a good guy. That alone is a rarity nowadays. We’re in a good place. In fact, he just asked me to move in with him before I left,” she mentioned.

Drake’s eyes widened. “Wow, that’s . . . huge. Congratulations, I guess?”

She tilted her head slightly. “I haven’t said yes yet . . . we’ve only been dating for eight months.” She shrugged. “Isn’t that too soon?”

Drake stared at her for a moment and threw his hands up in the air. “Geez Lawson, I’m not the best person to ask that question to,” he said honestly. “Especially after I’ve had a few drinks in me,” he chuckled. He stared at the almost empty bottle of whiskey, contemplating what to say. He licked his lips. “Here’s the thing . . . I always thought that when you met the right person, you’d just know. Fireworks, butterflies, you’d get the whole shebang. It wouldn’t matter how long you were with them . . . you’d just know if things were right, instantly, right off the bat.” He shrugged, looking at her carefully. “You can be in a relationship with someone for two years and never feel the way you feel with someone you’ve been with for two months . . . The difference is if they’re the right person, it doesn’t matter how quick things move, if you’re meant to be together, you’ll just know.” He looked at her carefully.

She thought about his words, nodding in agreement. “I guess I never really looked at it like that, “she said. She had been in Cordonia for about a month when she had started to suspect she was falling head over heels in love with him. She thought she was going crazy. None of her other relationships back in New York had felt that way. She had been a serial monogamist who only had long-term relationships, but none of those relationships, some of which had lasted over a year, had felt as right and true as with him. Here she was with Paul at eight months, and she didn’t know if he was the right one. Did that mean he wasn’t? But things felt good. They felt comfortable, and easy. Wasn’t that what she had wanted? Alcohol was supposed to eliminate her worries, not add to them.

“For what it’s worth, he never stopped loving you,” he said softly. “He may have married her, but he didn’t love her. Not even a little bit.”

The statement came out of nowhere. She looked up at him, trying to see if it was the alcohol talking. It wasn’t. She wished it were. He was staring in her green eyes, waiting for her to respond. She looked down at her hands, suddenly very self-conscious. “Thanks, I guess.” She gave him a weak smile. How was she supposed to respond to that? What was she supposed to do with that tidbit of information? It was nice to think that he still cared about her after all this time . . . after all, if she had learned anything during the masquerade ball it was that her feelings for him wasn’t quite as easily explained as she had believed them to be. But what did it change? He was still married, he had still chosen Cordonia over her, and she still had her life in New York.

“Hey, Lawson,” he whispered lowly. She looked up again, noting the seriousness in his voice.

“Y-yeah?” She hesitated, holding her breath.

“It was you out there last night.” He stated simply. “Out on the balcony.”

She clutched her whiskey glass tightly, her knuckles turning white. She looked up at him. “Huh?”

“Last night I couldn’t really tell at first, what with the mask and all. Then I saw how you ran out of there when I got up there, and I knew. I just knew it was you,” he continued.

She knew there was no point in denying it now. Drake wasn’t stupid. As much as she wanted to pretend that last night on the balcony didn’t happen, it did. “Did he know it was me?” she asked, a bit worried about the answer.

“If he suspected anything, he didn’t say anything to be about it.” He ran his fingertip over the rim of his whiskey glass. “And I didn’t volunteer anything to him if that’s what you’re worried about.”

She nodded slowly. “Thank you for that. I’m not sure how he would have reacted to me being back. You don’t plan on telling him I’m back do you? I know you talked about loyalty tonight, and I understand that he’s your best friend . . . it’s just . . .” she trailed of, not really knowing how to finish her train of though.

“No,” he said softly, understanding what she was saying.

She breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. I’m just not ready to deal with him just yet.”

“Will you though? Deal with him?” he asked seriously.

Riley wavered. “I honestly don’t know.”

“Fair enough.” He nodded, deciding not to push it any further. He hesitated briefly, he opened his mouth, then closed it, debating whether to continue, as if going through an internal struggle with himself. After a moment, he reached out across the table gently picking up her hand. “Riley, there’s something you should know . . . about Liam.”

She raised her hand up. “I don’t want to know.” She said defensively. “I don’t need to know,” she clarified a little more gently. “It won’t change the past and it won’t change the future, so there’s no point in dredging any of those old feelings up again,” she said decisively.

“But –“ he started, as she cut him off.

“Thank you . . . for the whiskey and the apology,” she smiled. “I’m glad we’re good again.” She unsteadily stood up, picking her laptop up off the table. She leaned over giving him a small kiss on the cheek, and a pat on the shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said.

As she was walking toward the sliding door to go back inside, she heard him mumble something under his breath. She was tempted to turn around and ask him what he said, but even in her drunken state, her mind urged her to let it go . . . because she was right . . . no matter what he told her, it wouldn’t change anything.

#choices #playchoices #choices: stories you play #choices fandom #theroyalromance #the royal romance #trr #trr fanfic #liam x mc #drake walker

99 notes · View notes

mizukixtsukiyomi · 6 years ago

Text

Poll Questions/Comments:

Cruel Ties:

I love this fic

I am glad you love this fic, hon! I truly work hard on it, and although I am aware that it is in the boring parts right now, I do hope the attention picks up after the Hunter Exam. I would be lying if I said I hadn’t been bored when I first watched this part of the anime and almost dropped it.

Dimensional Lovers:

You are so cool

Ha-ha well I try to be, but so far I am aware I am more of a nerd.

Thank you for your hard work!!!😚🙂🙃☺️

It really is no problem, hon! I write because I enjoy it and I want to share the ideas that plague my mind every day ha-ha. Hopefully I can continue to write like this for a long time because it really is my only hobby.

I don't know much about High & Low but it looks interesting and would be nice to see Kagome being a badass in gangs fights and some of the male characters look really cute (´ω｀) Good luck with the fanfics and take care of yourself! ＼(*^▽^*)/

Oh High & Low, how much I want to write it out. It would have a similar feel to the recent Dimensional Lovers chapter I put out with Kuroko no Basket, but if I did High & Low, I would follow the story of High & Low. The “one-shot” I made with Kuroko no Basket in its Yakuza!AU is something I have been thinking about, but more-so as an original story. I decided that if I was going to write an original story some day, I would want it to be yakuza-like, but for now, working in crossover works better for me. Hopefully I can write Kagome in the High & Low world.

Do u know how much I love u and your stories! XD maybe u don't remember but I once asked for a khrxinuyasha cross! ^^ It's fine if u make anything else too! I'll love it and enjoy it as much! The problem is.. I'm a Khr freak! That's all! 😑

I really do feel happiness when I read comments like yours, hon. Ah yes Katekyo, right? I did give it a try actually and I think I left it on hold at episode 12 or something like that? I was told that most of the episodes were fillers and some other people recommended me to read the manga instead. The characters look fun to write about, so hopefully I’ll have time to give it another shot.

Sweet and Spice:

this was another tough pairing!!! >_< i love the idea of a love rivalry bet. souma, akira n ryou. but the idea of a 4some doesn’t entirely sit all that well with me for this story (maybe coz it’s more of a realistic setting since they’re in modern times? idk) but gaaaaah i still want :((( -kakashixangela

It is difficult creating a harem if we are talking modern times ha-ha, so I understand. I have the same thoughts as I think about this fic. There are many ways this could go and heck, the manga is still not finished. So far it has given me multiple surprises (and not sure if I like where its at now), so I am thinking of ending this fic sooner than I had it planned, but we will see.

Pure Rukh

it was so hard to answer that pairing question so i ended up just putting all except judal xD like give the girl a lowkey harem haha but gah sinbad i love the guy but he’s become like ehhhh as the manga progressed...but i still like him...i think? idk TT-TT but i also like the idea of kag with kouen...and also her with muu...ffffffff i’m feeling so torn, pls send help :< -kakashixangela

Ha-ha it is funny as I see this poll. Some people gave me sentences as to what the pairing they wanted, and I enjoy reading their thoughts. You know in case I cannot pick that pairing, I can give them a little something through the fic. So far this story is the one that is thought out the most now. It used to be Cruel Ties, but now this story is almost 75% complete in rough draft outlines. And I think as the story goes on, it will make it more difficult for all of you to choose who Kagome should be with.

I love the story. I've actually started writing fanfic not that long ago and i hope I'll be as good as you

I am glad to hear you are starting to write fanfic. Don’t sweat on the reviews or anything like that. The time will come. When I first started, boy....did I have the worst grammar (still do) and plots. It is a matter of practice, expanding your resources such as not only watching anime, but listen to music, look at fashion, cultures, movies (of all genres), and talking to real people. I am so happy for you to be starting! Also...never compare your work or yourself to others. That is the worst thing you can do as a creator. Be you and create what you want to create.

#polls #poll questions #fanfiction #mizukitalks #replies

4 notes · View notes

folliesandfolderols · 10 months ago

Text

Writing prompts day 27

From this prompt list. If you're reading this far, I'm not sure you need any explanation, but the short version is I haven't written any fiction since 2019, I set a goal to write at least 150 words/day in 2024, and this list was my way in. Also I abruptly decided on day 2 I would write an entire Tim/Damian story connecting all the prompts, because I am Good at Judging My Limits. /sarcasm Anyway, I finished the rough draft and am now unlocking entries as I edit.

Read from the beginning here

Days 24, 25, and 26 here (combined because work makes me not have enough time to write anything but super-short posts)

***

97. In a hoarse whisper, “Fuck, you’re killing me here.”

***

Once they were both naked and in the shower, Tim caught Damian's wandering hands in his own, unable to repress another smile at the narrowed eyes that were the closest Damian came to visibly pouting. "Nope. Now that I'm not sleep deprived I want to get you out of here and into my bed as quick as possible."

Damian accordingly grabbed a washcloth from the shelf and started rubbing soap onto it, but he couldn't just agree without pushing back. "Tt. You are acting as though we must be prone to engage in relations."

Tim shouted with laughter somewhat garbled by water as he stuck his head under the spray. "Relations? Are you secretly a 70-year-old Midwestern grandma?"

He turned to get his shampoo bottle. Damian looked down his nose at him, scrubbing his chest. "If I am, you might have stranger kinks than I previously imagined."

Tim lathered up his hair. "Oh? Now I'm interested. What kinks did you think I had? Or should I say 'hoped I had?'" The water was carrying soap suds down Damian's belly, outlining each muscle in a way that made him want to bite.

Damian waited for him to finish rinsing and open his eyes before answering. "I wouldn't say hoped. But I did speculate."

Hmm. Maybe Damian's initial request hadn't come so far out of left field as he'd thought. Tim grinned at him and got his own washcloth. "So? Tell me what you thought might work for me."

"Dominance, definitely. You are what Richard likes to call a 'control freak.'" Damian took his turn with the shampoo bottle.

Tim snorted. "He's a fine one to talk. That's just a side effect of being trained by Bruce. But you're not wrong, I can be bossy. What else?"

"Bear in mind that I am not overly familiar with these things. Most of my information comes from what I've overheard secondhand or seen during patrols. But I thought you might like shibari." The tips of Damian's ears turned bright red at the word.

Intrigued, Tim hummed thoughtfully. He hadn't devoted much thought to the concept before, but . . . the thought of taking rope—maybe in his own red and black colors—and trussing Damian up with his full cooperation actually did have his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

Damian gave him a slight smile. "I needn't ask if I'm right, judging by that." He nodded at Tim's cock, now fully hard. Not that he was in much better shape. "I also wondered if perhaps you would want to take photos. You seem to preserve quite a few of them as keepsakes."

Tim reached for his conditioner. He fought to keep his voice steadier than his hand, which trembled slightly as he squeezed the bottle. "So far you're three for three." He wasn't sure what aroused him more: the fact that Damian had bothered thinking about him in that context at all, or the revelation of how well the baby bat understood him. Of course, he was also vaguely terrified, but that could wait. "Can I ask what some of your kinks are? Besides the praise one, that's probably all of us too." Again due to Bruce, though he wasn't going to say that here and kill Damian's boner.

Damian shrugged and took the conditioner from Tim's hand to pour it into his own. "I don't have any that I know of. Of course, I was also too certain of Father's and Oracle’s oversight to feel comfortable looking at porn anywhere he paid for the internet or the device, which eliminated most opportunities."

Tim, unable to withstand the temptation any longer, reached to rest his hands on Damian's chest, feeling the shift of his pecs as he massaged the conditioner through the ends of his hair. "I'm curious to see what you'll find out later."

Damian laid his hands over Tim's, expression softening. "You can help me with that, if you'd like." He brushed a kiss on Tim's mouth. "I would like it very much if you would."

Oh, hell. Damian admitting he wanted Tim to help him discover his kinks? And asking for it instead of demanding it as his due? Was there a name for that kind of kink? Because Tim was absolutely experiencing it right now. It felt like the top of his head had disappeared and all that was left was fog.

His answer came out a hoarse whisper. "Fuck, you're killing me here. I have got to get you into bed."

Damian smiled again, and Tim's chest ached, and that needy voice in the back of his mind urged him to make a home of Damian’s embrace. Which was foolishness. As if this were anything other for Damian than just the easiest route to gaining more experience.

He let Damian kiss him again, and again, and again, until he couldn't tell if he was dizzy from lack of oxygen or from the realization that Damian preferred to learn from him.

When they finally dried off, Tim offered Damian an unopened toothbrush and brushed his own teeth. Tim grabbed his hand as soon as he rinsed and pulled him toward the bedroom. "C'mon. I have some things I wanna make up to you."

Damian's steps slowed from their eager stumble, and Tim stopped to check what was wrong. Damian's expression had gone to mildly discomfited. "I don't wish to be transactional in this matter, Drake. You've apologized and I've accepted."

Tim's palms actually throbbed with the need to hold him. He wasn't very good with words when it came to stuff like this, but they seemed to understand each other pretty well when it came to touch. "That isn't what I meant. Trust me, I want this because I want to feel good with you, not because I think I owe you. Okay?" He gave Damian's fingers another light tug. "Come lie down."

Damian nodded and followed without further complaint.Once they were beside the bed, Tim gave Damian a gentle shove and had him sprawling out on his back in the middle of the mattress. He followed, crawling across the tangled comforter to straddle Damian's waist, then on second thought overlaid him entirely. He was heavier than he looked, but Damian wouldn't find it difficult to manage. He was so strong now, he probably could hold Tim up at the waist indefinitely. Now there was a thought to pursue at a future time.

Days twenty-eight & twenty-nine here

#damitim #tim and damian and 150 prompts #folliefic #like i know what you want #nsft

4 notes · View notes