#oh look when you put a comma it also starts a new tag

[exasperatedoctopus]

Imagine putting out content for a fandom instead of just obsessively turning media over in your mind every day like you’re polishing a river pebble to give to your one true love

[haitaniapologist]

ALL THE LITTLE STARS OF MY HEART.

pairings — knight! kakucho x maid! female reader.

genre — fluff, and a tiny bit of angst because of the appeal of a good drama in a period piece.

warnings — an unhealthy obsession with using dashes instead of commas, sentences with strange structures and grammatical errors because english isn’t my first language, a bit of suggestiveness at the end but no actual smut, teeth-rotting fluff, yearning, insecurities, typical society rules of the regency.

word counting — 11.6k

tagging — @tooweirdforyou @aetheriaess @etheralyonn @lonnie19 @sincerelyraylene @chronic-claire-universe @sanzu-s @aqualesha @winterv-black @softbajis @withlovetengen @mianavs @markedsweetly @wakagucciii

notes — absolutely crying because of this. first of all, this beautiful au belongs to my dear aria (@/aetheriaess), so all the credits goes to her for this amazing idea of kakucho being a knight. also, another big thanks for her, hal and em, who are my guinea pigs and are always listening to my late night ideas and reading my snippets (i love you guys, really). as for the ages, everyone is 21+, but i didn't think too much about it. enjoy!

likes, comments, reblogs, asks, everything is appreacited !!!

it all started when kakucho first laid his good eye upon you.

he remembered it to be a sunny day. the castle was buzzing with servants running around, making preparations. it was the day izana, his king, was going to welcome yuzuha and hakkai shiba — the exiled siblings of the new king of black dragon — in tenjiku, and give hakkai a dukedom. the decision had been made as soon as a letter from yuzuha arrived in the kingdom, seeking refuge from the claws of her tyrant brother. kakucho was in the meeting when it was decided that they would now be new subjects of the kurokawa dynasty. yuzuha's wisdom and hakkai's strength would only benefit the kingdom and its alliances.

as the head of the royal guard, kakucho was in charge of overviewing the safety of the castle. he knew taiju shiba — and he wouldn't be surprised if the now king would try an attack against his siblings. the knight didn't know how the relationship between the three were, but from what he read from yuzuha's letter, it wasn't good.

he sighed, hearing a guard announce the arrival of the shibas. he was the one supposed to escort the siblings to the meeting room where izana was expecting them, alongside some counselors and his fellow knights.

approaching the carriage, kakucho noted that it had another person that they weren't expecting — he could see the silhouette of someone he seemed as a woman, and when he opened the door to help yuzuha get out of it, it was like someone put a spell on him.

you bewitched kakucho at first glance.

he blinked his eyes slowly, thinking, at first, that you were a mirage. it could only be. you were perfect. from the way your hair framed your face, or the way your cheeks flushed or how your lips opened slightly by the intensity of his gaze — kakucho was sure you were the embodiment of the goddess of beauty, made only for him to look at.

yuzuha's smile went unnoticed by him, but not from you. “oh, kakucho!” his trance was cut by the new duchess's honeyed voice, and he — without wanting to — tore his eyes away from your frame, looking at the siblings. hakkai was taller than he remembered, and kakucho was sure he would be a good knight. “i'm sorry for not warning you and king izana about y/n coming with us.” she apologized, and kakucho saw how you lowered your gaze. “she's my personal maid, and i couldn't leave her there. i hope you’ll understand.”

he nodded, helping lady yuzuha to get out of the carriage after hakkai did. “of course, your grace. his highness did the same for me once.” he murmured, and yuzuha gave him a grateful smile. when the lady was already on the ground and gushing over her younger brother, kakucho's attention returned to you. “my lady.” he offered you his gloved hand, and the knight cursed the formality of the situation. what he wouldn't give to feel your skin touching his?

you took it with clear embarrassment shining on your face, and that only made kakucho's heart beat even more quickly.

“thank you, good sir.” your smile, even if it was a small one, could rival the full moon in kakucho's eyes. before you could take your hand away from his, he lifted it to his lips and pressed a chaste kiss there.

“call me kakucho, lady y/n.”

—

it was easy to be lady yuzuha's personal maid.

she wasn't snobby and arrogant like the other nobles you knew and, knowing her since childhood, you two were more sisters than anything else. she always made sure that you were comfortable in the places she took you, and looked after you like she did with hakkai — and used to do with taiju. it still saddened you to think about what happened to the shiba siblings. you four grew up together in the shiba state, all laughing and pranking the adults, until it was just you, yuzuha and hakkai — with taiju becoming more closed off and aggressive. there were many times you helped your lady to clean her face after she protected hakkai from her older brother's rage, and your heart ached for them.

but you were just a maid, and you could only watch from the sidelines.

“y/n, what do you think about the lilac dress for the ball?” yuzuha asked while you brushed her light brown hair, and wondered what lilac dress she was talking about, as she had a ton of them. “to match the king's eyes, to show we're loyal to him now.”

king izana was kind. you never met a royal as kind as him, and you wondered what difficulties he endured to be like that. “you have a ton of lilac dresses, my lady. i think that light one you ordered from lord takashi would be perfect.” you offered your opinion, finishing to style her hair the way she liked.

yuzuha hummed. “it is really a beautiful dress, is it not?” she got up from her seat, and you bowed your head, soon looking back at her. “but what about you, y/n? what color will you use?”

you felt your cheeks heating up. “m-me, my lady?” you usually didn't go to balls, as a staff member. taiju would probably have your head if you appeared in one of his, and even though you always dreamed of wearing a beautiful gown and style your hair with precious gems like you did with yuzuha, it wasn't your place to do so.

you were just a maid, a maid that was lucky to call her lady a friend.

“yes, you.” yuzuha answered, already walking to her wardrobe. “maybe you should wear light pink, y/n. it matches kakucho's red eye, and everyone will know you're looking for a husband.” she started to search for a pink dress — the color of the unmarried ladies looking for a husband — but you stopped paying attention to her when she mentioned kakucho.

the head of the royal guard was the only thing you thought of, and yuzuha knew that very well. since the day you arrived in tenjiku he haunted your mind and dreams — his kindness was something you never saw before, and he was beautiful, with his black hair and two colored eyes. you've heard some other staff making fun of him because of his scar, but that wasn't a hindrance for you developing feelings for him — on the contrary, you wanted nothing more than to stroke it and pamper his face with kisses. it was what he deserved, though you wished to know the story behind it.

but kakucho had a bright future as a royal guard, and you were just a maid. what you could offer to him?

nothing, and that thought made your heart break every time you were in his presence.

“look, y/n, i think this dre—” your lady's voice was cut by a knock on the door, and you promptly went to open it, being met with the son of the head cook. you smiled down at him, and he handed you a paper.

“your secret admirer asked me to deliver this for you, lady y/n!” the young boy chirped, soon running down the hall. you stayed dumbfounded at the door, not believing what he was saying.

yuzuha rushed you inside the room again, smiling widely at you. “someone has a secret admirer!” she hummed happily, and you handed the letter to her. you didn't know how to read — the shiba patriarch made sure that none of his servants knew how to write or read, too afraid that they would riot against his violent ways — but now, you wished you did.

“dearest y/n,

words can't describe what i feel you for. when you smile at me, i feel like the stars are beaming down at me.

i wish that someday you'll look at me as more than a friend.

until that day, i'll love you in the shadows.

your secret admirer.”

yuzuha giggled after she finished reading it, and your cheeks were so hot that you wondered if you had a fever. who could it be? you didn't know you had caught the eyes of someone in the castle and, deep down, you wished it was kakucho. yuzuha gave you a knowing look, giving you back the letter. “i know what you're thinking. i am sure it is kakucho, you don't need to worry.”

“lady yuzuha! you can't say things like that.” you chastised her, but your heart was hammering inside your chest. you heard your lady laughing at you, and you blushed even more. “i wish i knew how to write so i could write an answer for them.”

yuzuha nodded. “i am sure kakucho would appreciate it.” she winked at you, making you sit at her bed while she chose a dress for you to wear the ball. you just whined at her words — you couldn't let your hopes high. you shouldn't. kakucho only saw you as a friend.

“how can you be so sure it's him, my lady?” you asked, eyeing her and the amount of dresses she was taking out of her wardrobe, suspiciously.

she handed you a pink dress that she never used before, and you basked at how beautiful it looked with the embroidery and pearls. “because i know it, y/n.” you watched as she started to look for jewelry to complement it. “don't you trust me?”

even though yuzuha had put you in so much trouble in the past, you would trust her to guide you to the ends of earth. “of course i do.”

“then ask him to tutor you with reading and writing, so you can write a response for your secret admirer.”

—

kakucho was restless.

even since he paid the cook's son to deliver you the letter, he couldn't concentrate on anything else. did you like it? did you know it was him or he still had the mystery element?

at first, he was slightly against the idea.

it was ran who suggested it, too annoyed with kakucho's endless pinning after you. it was clear that you were in love with him too, but kakucho was always dwelling in his hatred for his appearance, thinking that you deserve someone better than him, that he never noticed how your eyes lighted up with love and adoration every time he entered a room you were in. but it didn't pass unnoticed by ran — and rindou, and mochi, and mucho and their king too.

the knight sighed for the nth time, his good eye frantically looking for a sign of you. he hadn't seen you since last night, at dinner, and while he knew you were tending to yuzuha's needs, it was time for you both to get breakfast.

“why is my sister and y/n taking so long?” he heard hakkai complain even as the chats of the other knights filled the room, and he almost nodded in agreement. “and his highness is late too.” hakkai murmured, and he gave him a small smile. it was that time of the year again, and kakucho knew his king was mourning the death of his brother.

but before he could answer his new friend, you and yuzuha entered the door, your lady's arm intertwined with his king's. kakucho's eyes were in your face as soon as he got a glimpse of your eyes, and he noticed how flushed your cheeks were, making you look even more beautiful. was it because of his letter?

and you were effortlessly beautiful, too.

you sat in front of him, and it took everything of kakucho to not keep his eyes glued in your form. to drink in the way your hair was styled, or the amount of skin your simple dress cut showed, or how your eyes were still glistening with sleep. izana's voice, saying they were allowed to eat, took him of his daydreams and he began to eat his breakfast.

he noticed that you weren't eating as much as you usually did, and that worried him. did you not like his letter? of course, you didn't know it was him, but did they make you uncomfortable? he didn't wish for that. it was ran's ideas, saying it was good for him to express his feelings on a paper.

you smiled at him, and kakucho cursed inside his head when you noticed him staring at you. he smiled back, turning his attention to what his king was saying, failing to notice the faint blush of your cheeks. but before he could engage in the conversation near him, he heard your voice.

“do you know how to write, kakucho?” you asked with uncertainty in your voice. of course he knew how to read and write — izana wasn't like yuzuha’s and hakkai's father. he was a better boss and king than the ones you ever saw.

your question took him by surprise. “i do, lady y/n.” you adored the way your name left his lips. “i hope i'm not crossing any boundaries, but why do you ask?”

you felt your cheeks warm, too embarrassed to admit you didn't know how to. but the wink yuzuha gave you was what you needed to have enough courage to follow through with her plan. “you see, i… do not know.” your eyes fell down to your plate the moment you saw sadness pouring from his good eye. “and i've received a letter today that i want to answer, but i don't know how.”

oh. so someone else was reading them for you — kakucho knew it wasn’t a good plan.

the few moments before kakucho answered were too much for you, and you quickly added. “i've asked my lady to help me, but she's too busy with his highness because of the festivities, and she said you have a wonderful lettering.” returning your eyes to kakucho, your heart raced at the sight of his flushed face. “and i was hoping you could help me, if it isn't too bothersome.”

it was his dream coming true.

of course, his blood was still boiling with anger to know how mistreated you were by yuzuha and hakkai’s father — you were a precious gem in kakucho’s eyes, and you only deserved to be treated like royalty. as much as he wanted to know more of your past, kakucho knew he was going to take his horse and ride to black dragon, just to teach taiju a lesson about how to treat his staff. but the way you blinked at him, expecting his answer, ground him, and he knew you wouldn’t like it if he did that — so he would take the opportunity the gods were giving him to be closer to you with open hands. kakucho smiled, and he wished you wouldn't find it too horrendous. “i would love to help you, my lady.” the smile you gave him was going to be kakucho’s fuel for the rest of his day. “just say when you have free time.”

you opened your mouth to speak, but yuzuha’s voice beat yours. “oh, kakucho! i was just speaking with his highness and we just decided to give a day off for you two!” her voice was too sweet, and he hoped you didn’t see how izana winked knowingly at him. “you two can even spend the day together, isn’t it wonderful?”

you blushed under your lady’s words, and cursed having such a close friendship with her. you loved yuzuha, you really did, but when she put something on her mind — that being playing matchmaker for you — she wouldn’t back off. “if it isn’t a bother for him, my lady. kakucho have a lot of duties besides being the head of the knights.”

it was the time of the king to smile at you, and you noticed how kakucho squirmed on his seat. he probably had a lot to do and your lady’s idea was just something that was going to disturb him. “nonsense, lady y/n. your company would never be a bother for him.”

kakucho gave you a forced smile, knowing that all his friends were with their attention glued to the scene in front of them. “then it’s settled! but let's finish our breakfasts first. hakkai needs to eat before his training.”

kakucho’s eyes softened seeing you giggling because of yuzuha’s words. it was going to be a long day, but if he was going to spend it with you, he knew it would be one of his favorites.

—

the breeze was warm, but your body was hotter than normal.

it was because of kakucho's proximity, of course. yuzuha suggested that you two take a stroll in the gardens — it was a lovely day, and she knew how much you enjoyed seeing the flowers. it reminded you of your lady mother, who used to be yuzuha's mother's personal maid before both of them died, just like yourself is now to the only shiba daughter. it was a tradition, it seemed, but you never thought about being anything else.

“you said your mother liked flowers?” kakucho asked curiously. he didn't remember his parents — they died in a carriage accident many years ago, and he was taken by the king to be the squire of the late captain of the royal knights — but the love that dripped from your voice when you spoke about your mother made him wanting to remember, so he could have something in common with you.

you nodded shyly, averting your eyes to the path before you. “she was the one responsible for the design of the gardens in the shiba's state.” your mother had been a kind woman. your father was a knight, too, and he died in a war before you could have memories of him — but you never cared much about it. your mother's love was enough for you. “they used to be my favorite place back there.” you stopped in front of a bunch of hyacinths, remembering how your mother used them to adorn yours and yuzuha's hair with such flowers when you were children.

kakucho noticed the longing in your eyes looking at the flowers, and he promptly kneeled to take one off the flowerbed — he knew the gardener was going to be mad at him, but the way you looked at him while he placed it behind your ear was enough for him to bear any punishment. his hand dwelled more than it was necessary in your cheek, and kakucho felt how it warmed under his fingertips. “i hope you grew to enjoy our gardens as you did back in black dragon, my lady.”

he was too close, and you didn't know what to do. you couldn't understand who said he wasn't beautiful — under the sunlight and with his hair down, kakucho looked like a mythical hero, and you wished to be his damsel. you hoped the hyacinth, which was delicately placed behind your ear, was proof that kakucho hoped that too. “your company is enough to make me enjoy them more than i used to at my homeland, my lord.” you smiled sheepishly at him, intertwining your arms again. “can we go to the library? the sun is starting to be too hot for my liking."

he could only nod, starting to walk a path he knew by heart. kakucho was no lord — he couldn't grant you everything he deemed you to be worthy of, but he knew he was willing to go to the ends of earth just to make you happy. that feeling was consuming him, and you didn't even know how much he loved you. just a glimpse of your figure was what ignited him to train harder, to make his job better — and having your smile directed at him was what he aimed to earn every day.

the walk to the library was filled with small talk.

you both took the opportunity to know each other better. you two didn’t had the right set of circumstances before to be alone like that — you were always with yuzuha, and, if kakucho wasn’t with the king, he was with his friends. both of them made you nervous. the king, for obvious reasons. although king izana was a kind man, you were too low-born to stand at his side as if you were equals. and the knights — well, they were too intimidating. ran, mucho and mochi were too tall and had scary faces. rindou was quieter and you two probably had a more compatible personality, but the scowl that he wore on his face always made you uneasy.

and kakucho, well. he was too in love with you to function like a decent human being, and he didn’t want his friends to make fun of him. his face, too, was an obstacle — he knew what was said about him behind his back, and kakucho didn’t want to taint your reputation by being seen with you.

the smile you gave him when he helped you in your seat calmed his nerves, and you looked oddly cute being surrounded by the books he brought for you to practice your reading and writing.

“which things do you know how to write?” kakucho asked, trying to not look at the exposed skin of your clavicle. why dresses need to have such necklines?

you pouted, ashamed of your poor skills. “my name and surname, and basic things.” you admitted, writing it in a blank paper. “it was what my mom managed to teach me before lord shiba discovered.” you still remembered how he punished her — you never heard such screams in your entire life, but your mother always said that she would do it again and again.

kakucho watched in awe as how your hand did the movements to show him what you knew. “i don’t think you need help with lettering, my lady. yours is beautiful.”

you felt your face warm at his words. “but i want to write an answer to my secret admirer, kakucho. how can i do it if i don’t know how to write my thoughts?”

widen eyes watched mesmerized how kakucho's cheeks gained a reddish color, and you almost thought that he was having a fever. but before you could say something, he regained his composure. not in his wildest dreams he thought of receiving an answer from you. “maybe i can… maybe i can write down your thoughts and you copy them.”

you nodded excitedly while he took the pen from your hands.

—

“my dearest secret admirer,

why do you want to hide in the shadows? i am no dog, therefore i do not bite. so do not be afraid of expressing your love for me — it'll be my greatest honor to receive your affections in daylight.

waiting for your response,

the holder of your affections.”

“she’s more poetic than us.” rindou murmured, his glasses in the tip of his nose. kakucho watched as you asked the cook’s son to deliver your paper to the person who asked him to deliver one to you that morning, paying him with a small coin and a kiss on his cheek, before meeting his friends again. he told them everything that happened, but, seeing the mischief glint hooding izana’s and ran’s eyes, he wished he hadn’t. mochi and mucho weren’t holders of a strong opinion towards his affections, and rindou was the reader of their little group, so kakucho turned to him for inspiration. “are you really sure she doesn’t know how to read?”

“absolutely.” he answered in a heartbeat, good eye still reading and reading what you wrote down with his guidance. “she probably heard poems from lady yuzuha.”

rindou nodded. “then, what you want to write?”

ran giggled and kakucho swore he was on the verge of committing a crime.

“do not even start.” kakucho cut ran and izana off, knowing what they're about to do — imitating the both of you, with exaggerated gestures and change of voices.

mucho’s voice resounded inside the room. “do not get me wrong, kakucho.” the younger man was curious to know what his quiet and strong friend had to say, because he was less inclined to tease him. “this pining of you and lady y/n, as much as it’s sweet to see, it is also infuriating.” kakucho saw how everyone murmured their agreement to mucho’s words.

“it is obvious that she loves you, my friend. why are you so insecure?” izana asked, his hand resting on his childhood friend’s shoulder. it was obvious as to why kakucho was insecure, and his king knew that like the palm of his hand — but izana found his reasons to be bullshit, as you never, not once, said anything bad about his appearance. maybe about his habit of not cleaning his boots when he was in a rush to get back to the castle when he was outside, but never about his appearance.

kakucho sighed. “it’s easy for you to say, my king.” his good eyes scanned the room while rindou wrote some of his ideas down. “to any of you, actually.”

“care to elaborate, my dear kakucho?” ran asked, and the younger man knew it was a genuine question.

he took a deep breath. kakucho was about to share one of his deepest insecurities, that only izana knew about. “all of you come from great families. ran is a duke, mucho’s a viscount and mochi is a baron. rindou the brother of a duke, izana is king and i’m an orphan.” even if his parents were alive, he wouldn’t have any title of nobility, or a state. “i’m just the captain of the royal guards, i can not offer to y/n what she deserves.”

“and what does she deserve?” it was mochi’s time to ask.

“everything.” kakucho rested his forehead on his palm, too embarrassed to look at his friends. “she deserves to be the lady of an important household, to have a beautiful summer state to raise our children, she deserves to have the prettiest jewels and the most comfortable pillows. you all can offer that to her, and what can i?” nothing. he couldn’t offer you anything he said.

too lost in his own head, kakucho didn’t notice the way an idea seemed to pop inside izana’s head, but everyone else did.

“the next letter is ready.” rindou announced, a smug smile on his face.

“my dearest y/n,

you deserve nothing more than the whole world. you’re the most precious jewel to have graced earth, and you only deserve things that suit such a title.

and i can’t give them to you yet, that is why i will stay in the shadows.

but when i managed to do so, expect my love to rain upon you like water rains upon the hyacinths in the garden.

until then, i hope my letters will be able to show how deep my feelings are.

your secret admirer.”

—

you and kakucho maintained your little meetings every day until the ball. he would make the cook’s son deliver your letter in the morning, and he would help you write an answer before dinner, and receive it at midnight. you didn’t seem to suspect it was him, but lady yuzuha always smiled too sweetly at him every morning when you gushed to her about what your secret admirer had to say that morning.

but the ball and the tourney in honor of prince shinichiro’s memory was coming, and both you and kakucho had many duties to attend — but that didn’t mean you stopped seeing each other. he always made sure to leave a hyacinth in the door of your room, and you were always packing a snack for him when he had duty outside the palace walls. it was those little interactions that made the love you both felt for each other to flourish even more.

yuzuha became your main source of help when writing answers to your secret admirer, and it was good to have the surprise element again, kakucho thought. he missed spending more time in your company, but the patrols around the castle were taking more of his time than they used to be, and he knew it was izana’s paranoia speaking for him. it had been ten years since prince shinichiro died in a battlefield — ten years that the region lost one of its more honourable men, and someone kakucho admired like he never did to no one. maybe prince shinichiro’s friends — king takeomi from brahman and his two counselors, count wakasa and duke benkei — were on the same level, but he wasn’t as close to them as he was to shinichiro. he and izana were brothers, so that meant that kakucho was an honorary member of their little family.

however, shinichiro’s body was now six feet under the ground, and kakucho had to deal with patrolling the castle walls because izana thought burglars would try to steal his brother’s favorites and rare flowers — blue roses.

kakucho couldn’t wait to win the tourney and crown you queen of love and beauty. you never attend a tourney like that before and, in past years, kakucho used to crown mucho’s younger sister just to tease ran. maybe all the teasing he was receiving was payback for that time, but ran changed since she left tenjiku to be princess emma’s companion, in toman, the neighboring kingdom. kakucho couldn’t wait to put the crown of blue roses in your locks and proclaim his love for you.

and just like kakucho, you couldn’t help and feel anxious — but for the ball. you never went to one before, and yuzuha was gushing over you like a mother would do to her unmarried daughter. a new dress, new jewels, people to do your hair. your lady wanted you to be the most beautiful woman that ever set foot in kurowaka’s ballroom, and she would do anything.

poor hakkai was her guinea pig, helping you to learn how to dance properly and how you should act in front of unwanted men. there would be a lot of creepy lords that would try to woo you, and she was ready to show you how to decline them with grace, but crushing their egos while doing so.

but you wanted nothing more than to just dance with kakucho, if he danced, that is.

—

to say you were nervous was a lie.

you were almost exploding, but yuzuha’s arm, intertwined with yours, and hakkai’s looming presence behind you two, was a reminder that you would never be alone.

when your lady said you were going to be the most beautiful lady that ballroom ever saw, you weren’t expecting how you were looking. your pink embroidered dress was something that you could never afford in your life, made by the hands of yuzuha’s — and the whole region — favorite stylist: lord takashi mitsuya. he really outdid himself with the piece you were wearing, and the jewels the king presented to you were more than you could even ask for: a gold necklace and tiara, with pearls and rose quartzes being the gems adorning it. yuzuha even said she was sure kakucho was the one who chose it, but you couldn’t believe her. it was just a king gift of the king, since that was your first ball. you hair was made to the style of the fashion, with curls hanging on each side of your face, but the rest of your hair was pulled in an intricately-made bun. the gloves you were wearing were made of the finest silk, white as a snowy day, and your heels were more comfortable than you thought they would be.

it was too much, but you couldn’t help but giggle like a child when you entered the ballroom. it was beautifully decorated — courtesy of yuzuha’s female gaze, king izana said. the room was decorated with light pink hyacinths and blue roses, lit by the yellow lights of the candles, and it was the most beautiful room you ever saw in your entire life.

but the first person you noticed was kakucho.

he stood tall at the side of the king, wearing a white blouse and the black suit men his age were supposed to, his hair loose and perfectly styled to the back. he looked like royalty, and you could spend the whole evening just looking at him. you averted your eyes to yuzuha’s form as soon as you saw kakucho looking back at you.

kakucho’s heart missed a beat when he saw you.

you were more beautiful than normal and, as always, fashionably late, accompanying lady yuzuha. he didn’t even have words to describe your beauty — if he thought that you, with simple dresses and hairstyles, was the embodiment of the goddess of beauty, now you were her. you came down from the heavens, and he wasn’t worth enough to be graced with your sight.

izana pushed him in your direction, winking at him. “go on, kakucho. dance with her, like you always dreamed about.”

but he wasn’t the only man looking at you. you had almost a line of lords wanting to speak and dance with you, and hakkai was scaring them off. you seemed overwhelmed with all the attention, and he saw how yuzuha was trying her best to calm you. but he was a familiar face, and he noticed how your features relaxed when he got near you. “may i…” he started to say, before a rude voice interrupted him.

“may i have this dance, lady y/n?” the voice belonged to choji, a low ranked knight that kakucho always needed to put in his place.

with a defeated sigh, kakucho was ready to leave — how could you not accept choji’s invitation? he saw you two talking before, and it seemed you were good friends. and he looked much more in place inside the ballroom, with fancy clothes and hair styled back, than kakucho could ever look.

“i think sir kakucho asked me first, choji. i am sorry.” you smiled apologetically at him, and kakucho, even in his shocked state, managed to extend his hand to you, and you took it tightly.

you two reached the dance floor in a comfortable silence — kakucho still stunned that you wanted to dance with him, and your heart hammering from you sudden boost of confidence — and you felt kakucho’s warm hand positioned in your higher back, where the dress fabric didn’t cover, while one of yours was on his clothed shoulder, the other being held by him in the position of the dance.

the music started, and it was like it was only you and kakucho in the room.

your eyes were glued on his, and his on yours, and even when you were on your back, you still turned your head so you wouldn’t break eye contact. it was intense, and you felt as if you were looking at a distant star. you two were in an intimate position, the dance made exclusively to lovers, and you could tell apart the shades of red that his good eye had.

kakucho was the most beautiful man you ever saw, and the way he was holding you — gentle, but possessively tight still — made your heart hammer in your ribcage. you found yourself facing him again after a spin, and the smile he gave you ignited a flame inside your heart.

you liked his smile. it showed how happy he was to be alive.

“you look beautiful tonight.” he managed to say, before the music ended. “another one, lady y/n?”

you nodded, smiling at him, getting in formation again. it was a more lively dance, more suited to friends or family, but you didn’t care. you were having so much fun dancing with kakucho, and you didn’t even notice when the typical five dances that a lady should dance in a night went by.

before you two could engage in the sixth, you heard yuzuha calling you.

“you’ve already danced five times, y/n!” she scolded you, but her tone was more lightweight than angry. “or does that mean kakucho wants to be your husband?” your lady wiggled her eyebrows, and both you and kakucho blushed at her implications. “i am just joking. but i think you should drink something and eat a bit, y/n. i’ll return her soon, my dear kakucho!”

you waved at the knight, a lovestruck smile adorning your lips, while you followed your lady — who was looking down fondly at you. she was happy to see you having so much fun. you deserved only such things in life, after all the hardships you went through. losing your mother, having her father as a boss, and being treated like scum by the other staff because of your mother’s “treason” — she did nothing more than just disagree with what lord shiba and taiju were planning.

kakucho soon found himself surrounded by his friends, all of them asking things about you.

how was the dance? what did you two chat about? is her skin as soft as you thought it was? you two danced five times, does that mean you’re courting her? when it’s the wedding?

he tried to answer his friends with his sincere thoughts, but somethings were only for him to know — how good your body felt pressed against his, how your hand held his tenderly, how you smelled so intoxicating that kakucho was sure no other smell could compare, not even fresh jelly tarts. and his eyes never left you. no other man was bothering you for dances or useless chats — the five dances were proof enough that kakucho already had his eyes on you. but that wasn’t his plan, to begin with. just one dance would be enough, but you two were like magnets.

and his heart was aching for not being in your presence for too long.

he excused himself and made his way to where you and yuzuha were at. kakucho didn’t care if he was going to just stand there and listen to you two chatting — he needed to feel your warmth or just hear how cutely you laughed, and that was enough. he couldn’t ask for more, and he was happy with anything you would offer to him.

your heart, too, was aching to not be in his presence, and yuzuha noticed how your eyes would drift from the delicacies to where kakucho was standing. you couldn’t help yourself — he was extremely good-looking wearing a suit instead of his typical armor, and you didn’t want any other woman to look at him and reach the same conclusion. and you knew they did, and you hoped the five dances were enough to keep them away from him.

smiling knowingly at yuzuha, you waved at her when another lord asked for a dance, and her place was soon occupied by kakucho. “i hope i am not being a bother.”

“of course not, kakucho. you will never be.” you answered, feeling more confident around him than you ever did. “do you want some delicacies? i think i have never eaten something as delicious as them.” you offered them, and when kakucho agreed, you unconsciously started to feed him. it was an intimate gesture that you could hear yuzuha’s former etiquette professor fainting and screaming at you for doing in public, but, like when you two were dancing, you felt as if it was just the two of you inside the ballroom.

the rest of the night went smoothly. you and kakucho stayed seated together, chatting, laughing and eating, sometimes being joined by yuzuha, hakkai or any of his friends, and you felt as if you finally found the place you belonged. in the shiba state, you were always walking on eggshells, afraid of offending anyone and being punished by your smallest mistakes — now, in tenjiku, you felt a freedom to be yourself you never had before. and kakucho was one of the main reasons for that. the knight always made sure that you were comfortable where you were at, and to be in his presence made you feel safer than you ever did.

“y/n?” he called you after ran left to dance with one of the many ladies that were throwing themselves at him, and you noticed how his face had a tinge of worry on it.

kakucho wanted to make his intentions known, that he wanted to court you and then marry you, but he was afraid that he had read the signs wrong. you didn’t know he was your secret admirer, nor he was good enough to show his feelings in public. maybe the five dances were just you trying to get away from dancing with other men — who you didn’t know who they were or what their intentions with you were — and maybe you just saw him as a friend.

but before he could say anything else, izana started the expected speech he was supposed to do.

“i hope everyone had a night.” his king started after the claps calmed down. “as you know, this ball and tomorrow's tourney are in the memory of my older brother, crown prince shinichiro of toman.” his voice didn’t had the same melancholy it had in the years prior, and kakucho didn’t know what to say. you grabbed his hand, and he looked surprised at you. “my brother taught me everything i know: from how to be a good ruler, to how to court a woman. though he wasn’t the best at doing that.”

the ballroom was filled with soft chuckles. everyone knew how horrible prince shinichiro’s way with women was.

“but he also taught me to help friends in need. i can’t overlook how conflicted my best friend is now.” was izana talking about him? he felt how you squeezed his hand, and his heart melted at the gesture. you were trying to comfort him, without even knowing what izana was talking about. “my friend thinks he’s not worthy of the lady he loves, and, because of that, i announce that our kingdom will have another dukedom.”

kakucho felt how izana’s words made you slowly loosen your hold on his hand, and he didn’t know what to do. his heart was beating quickly inside his chest, but he couldn’t form any words to say that the woman izana is talking about was you. it had always been you.

“i announce the creation of the hitto dukedom, led by the one who stayed by my side with a loyalty i never saw before. come, kakucho, our newest duke.”

you dropped kakucho’s hand and fled the ballroom as soon as izana finished his speech, leaving kakucho surrounded by people he knew since he was a child, but feeling more lonely than he ever did.

—

of course.

of course kakucho didn’t want to court you. izana’s words made it very clear — it was a noblewoman, the holder of kakucho’s affections, and that was why he needed to be made nobility. it hurt, knowing that you weren’t enough for him. because you thought you were, with your whole heart. the way he seemed to smile and laugh more with you, how he danced five times with you and stayed at your side the whole night.

you were just a friend. that’s all.

you cursed yourself for thinking otherwise, to think that you would live a love like your mother and father had. it was too good to be true — you and your mother were maids of a shiba lady, and your father and kakucho were knights. your mind was too glossed by a fantasy you created on sleepless nights that you didn’t notice the signs that everything was just that. a fantasy.

“y/n!” you heard yuzuha calling for you, and you stopped in your tracks, being engulfed by her arms.

and you broke down.

yuzuha hugged you tightly while you cried for your foolishness, for the love you thought you were almost having, for all the feelings you had for kakucho. it wasn’t fair, was it? maybe if you were a noble lady, just like yuzuha, he would like you better. but you were just a maid, someone that was born to serve and not be served, someone that the surname didn’t matter. if your mother had married someone else instead of your father, maybe kakucho would like you more than just a friend.

your lady led you to your room, her hands bringing the comfort you need. she helped you to undress and loosen your hair, and you almost laughed at how your positions changed.

she tucked you under your covers, and you smiled weakly at her. “kakucho is surely a fool if he does not love you.”

you whimpered, a new flow of tears glossing your vision.

“i will talk to him.” she stroked your hair, getting up from your bed. “but try to get some sleep, my dear y/n. tomorrow is a new day.”

you just nodded, trying to not break down in sobs again when yuzuha left your room.

—

kakucho knew izana meant well with his words, but the way he paraphrased his speech could be interpreted as if he was in love with a noble lady.

and that was probably what you thought.

he rushed to your room, but kakucho knew he was late. after izana’s announcement, he was too dumbstruck to do something. because he couldn’t believe it — he was going to be a duke! him, the orphan and scarred knight, a duke! it didn’t make sense. but then, as someone from royalty, he could give you everything you truly deserved. he could pamper you with all the riches of the world, with all the things neither of you two had growing up. he could treat you like the special gem you were.

but would it be worth being made a duke if you weren’t there to be the first to congratulate him?

when he turned to look at you, in the ballroom, expecting to find you giving him one of your smiles that left him breathless, he saw your running form, with tears streaming down your face. and he was paralyzed, because he didn’t know what to do — and then the nobles came to congratulate him.

he didn’t had a need for being a duke if you weren't going to be his duchess.

he would trade everything — all the riches in the world, the offer to be made a god, a kingdom, everything — just to be with you.

kakucho reached the hallway of your room, breathless — chest rising and falling while he breathed, but every time he inhaled, it hurt. it hurt to know that such a good night didn’t end in the way he wanted. it hurt to know that you were crying because of him, and he couldn’t do anything.

but instead of being met with his own company, yuzuha was in front of your door, a look on her face that kakucho never saw before. “i will be short, kakucho.” her voice was stern, and kakucho gulped. he could win in any fight yuzuha tried to pick with him, but she looked like a mother scolding her son after he did something bad. “do you love y/n?”

he didn’t hesitate to answer. “yes, of course i do!” he whispered, a hand running down his face, frustratedly. “do you think i care about anything but her?” he asked, almost desperately. “i give up on my pride and asked the help of my friends to write those letters for her, because my love was suffocating me. if i loved her less, maybe i would be able to talk more about it.” kakucho would set the world on fire to see your eyes lighting up, he would fight the gods so your life would only be filled with good things.

it was as if you two lived many past lives together. the thought of being the cause of your distress, of hurting you, of losing you, tormented him to the point of feeling his heart hurt physically.

how many lives has he lost you to be feeling this way now?

yuzuha’s hand on his shoulder took him from his thoughts, and kakucho noticed the warm wet patch on his cheeks.

“she loves you too, you know. that’s why she left the room.” she explained. “she thinks you’re in love with a noblewoman, and she doesn’t want to be in your way to happiness.”

“but my happiness is with her.” kakucho protested, and he felt like a child fighting with their older sister over a broken toy.

yuzuha chuckled. “but does she know that?”

no, you didn’t.

“tomorrow, kakucho. tell her everything after crowning her the queen of love and beauty.”

—

the tourney was buzzing with people, and you felt a headache coming.

you didn’t sleep well last night. after yuzuha left your room, you tried to fall asleep, but tears and your thoughts kept you from it. you tried to not think about kakucho, you really did — he loved someone else, and you would only bring more despair for yourself if your thoughts kept wandering to him — but he was stuck in your head. the way he smiled, how he laughed, how warm his hand was in your skin. kakucho engraved himself in your mind, like he was a sewing thread in a piece of fabric, and you couldn’t find the end of it to end such torment.

you thought that maybe sleep could have bring a remedy to your situation, but kakucho was even in your dreams last night. you couldn't escape him.

but avoiding kakucho, in person, had been an easy task. as the king's champion, he was preparing to fight in the tourney, so you could eat breakfast in peace — but everyone was giving you a weird look. was it because you left the ballroom running? apparently, everyone bought your little story of not being well — you weren’t used to balls, and had drank too much, leaving the room to not embarrass kakucho after the king’s announcement.

then why ran called you ‘your grace’ when greeting you?

you tried to not dwell too much in it. it was the tourney’s day and, even if you were fighting with your feelings for kakucho, you were worried about him.

yuzuha’s hand on your thigh prevented you from shaking it too much, but you’re sure your lower lip would be swollen. you never saw a tourney before, and you didn’t even know what things happened there, but just from watching the inexperienced knights falling from their horses made your heart race and worry to bubble in your heart.

hakkai seemed to sense your distress, and gave you his boyish smile. “do not fret, y/n/n. kakucho is the best knight i ever saw, and a better swordsman than big brother taiju.”

you could only nod.

the buzzing of people chatting amongst themselves was becoming a bit too much for you to bear, and before you could excuse yourself, the announcer announced kakucho’s name. he was going to fight the winner of the last fight, a knight from the kingdom of toman that you couldn’t remember his name.

kakucho appeared in all his glory with his shiny armor, and your heart skipped a beat. he nodded at your direction, and you averted your eyes to your lap, still a bit hurt to look at him properly. you actions made the knight’s heart ache, but he understood why. he hoped that his gesture after winning the fight would be enough for you to believe his feelings.

the fight started, and you were on the verge of having a heart attack. every time kakucho’s horse crossed the sides and his spear touched his opponent's chest — hakkai told you the winner was supposed to touch his opponent's chest five times — you heart raced even more. he was skillful with handling his horse and manoeuvring it so his opponent wouldn’t be able to touch him, and his spear was like an extension of his arm. when kakucho touched his aim for the fourth time, your heart was almost in your mouth — but, in the blink of an eye, kakucho’s horse got scared by something, and he fell out of it.

everyone was silent at first, and a cry of his name, which left your mouth, broke it.

“kakucho!” you got up from your seat and made your way towards the fighting arena, discarding your heels in the way to make you faster. you cradled his face on your lap, noticing how it was bleeding a little, and your worry grew. maybe it was just a concussion, but the sight of his blood made you sick.

rindou was the one who managed to make the horse calm down, while ran and mochi were making sure that the animal didn’t come near you two. mucho was shouting at the toman knight, and you called for the eldest haitani. “we need to take him to his room, ran! i’ll be able to take better care of him there.”

he nodded, and you and mochi helped him adjust kakucho on his back. you could see how angry izana looked while talking to mucho, and the last thing you saw before entering the castle were guards taking choji to talk with them.

“care if i ask something, lady y/n? do not be offended by it.” mochi broke the silence, and you nodded. “do you know how to take care of his injury?”

“i…” it wasn’t your life to tell others about, but you knew you shouldn’t lie to them. “lord shiba wasn’t a good father, and lord taiju inherited his aggressive ways from him.” you opened the door to kakucho’s room, and if it was another circumstance, you would be blushing just by being an unmarried woman in the room of an unmarried man. “lady yuzuha used to take all the punishments to preserve lord hakkai. i was the only one who treated her injuries.”

the two knights remained silent, and you took a seat beside kakucho after ran laid him down on his bed. “can you bring me fresh cloths, bowls, water and alcohol?”

“yes, of course.” ran was the one who answered, and you sighed when the door was closed.

you didn’t notice you were holding back tears until you looked at kakucho’s sleeping face and, for the second time in less than twenty-four hours, you were crying about him. his injury wasn’t anything serious and he wasn’t going to die, but you were scared. you never saw someone falling from their horses, and it wasn’t a sight you didn’t wish to see again.

your fingertips started to trace his scar, light as a feather to not wake him. kakucho was a work of art, and you couldn’t understand who badmouthed him because of his scar or his milky eye. every time you looked at him it was like constellations were bursting, and fires were dying, and the whole damn world felt terrifying — but kakucho was like an anchor, something that reminded you that you were safe.

he fluttered his eyes, and you retracted your hand, and he pouted. “don’t stop, my lady.”

you blushed at how intense his red eye was looking at your face. but you did not deny his wishes, but this time your hand started to stroke his face.

“you scared me so much, kakucho.” you whispered, a few tears falling down your eyes.

he chuckled. “it was not my intention, y/n. but i think someone sabotaged my horse.” kakucho said weakly, one of his hands wiping away the tears that were falling on your cheeks gently. he didn’t remember very well what happened. his horse wasn’t an agitated one, and he always obeyed him.

you nodded, and he smiled at how you leaned into his touch as if you belonged there. because you did. “it was choji. i saw the guards arresting him.”

“he was probably jealous because of yesterday.”

yesterday.

you suddenly broke the skin to skin contact you two were having, almost leaving the bed, but he held your wrist — gently, but at the same time demanding. you let your feelings cloud your mind to the point of forgetting that you weren't the holder of his affections. that the way he was looking at you meant nothing, because his mind was always thinking of someone else.

“do not go.” he whispered, and you pouted. it wasn't fair to you, to your feelings.

“k-kakucho, please, y-you're a duke and i… i am just a maid. i-if someone sees us like this, you will have to m-marry me.” you tried to reason with him, but the hold he had on your wrist demanded you to stay. the words hurt to say, but they were the truth. kakucho was now a duke, and you couldn’t be a stone in his path to happiness. his eyes were, too, demanding you to stay — you never saw that emotions on them, as if your departure would physically hurt him.

“my dearest y/n.” kakucho started, his mind thinking about the only thing he could do to make you stay. “i do not want to love you in the shadows anymore. i am tired of being a coward, of not being able to hold you, to kiss you or to call you mine.” he dropped the hold of your wrist, his fingers traveling to your hand, and bringing it to rest where his heart was. beating, and beating for you. “then, please, accept my feelings. do whatever you want to do with them. my heart is yours — yours to command, yours to love, yours to break. you can break it a million times, and i will gather the pieces so they won't hurt you and crawl back, because being without you hurts more than having my heart shattered to pieces.” kakucho pressed your hand against his chest gently, and it took everything on you to not cry. “i love you.” he brought your hand from his chest to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles.

“your secret admirer.”

you just kept your eyes glued to him, speechless. yuzuha was right then, kakucho was your secret admirer, but you still couldn’t believe it. it was too good to be true — what izana was talking about then, of him not feeling worthy of the woman he loved? why didn't he feel worthy of you? because when you looked at him, you saw everything you always desired — a good man, someone who didn’t care for people’s titles or surnames, someone that was kind, someone who was strong and hardworking.

before you could say anything else – to confirm to him that his feelings weren’t one-sided — the door opened and you both returned to your original positions, with kakucho starting to pretend he was asleep once more.

“he is still unconscious?” mochi asked amused, because the blush on your cheeks told otherwise.

you nodded, taking the supplies from his hands. “y-yes! he woke up a few minutes ago and i said he could go back to sleep.”

the older knight smirked at you, and you chuckled uncomfortably.

“i will leave you two to be. just don't do the thing before marriage, are you hearing me, kakucho?” mochizuki teased, and kakucho opened his good eye.

but you pressed one of your fingers on kakucho’s lips, to prevent him to speak any further, and started an endless bickering with his friends. “of course, mochi! kakucho is a gentleman, he would never do that.” you answered, smiling at mochi who was closing the door.

“be careful of what you say, my lady.” you heard kakucho whispered while you prepared a bowl with alcohol, and another one with water.

you scoffed. “let me treat your injury first, my good sir. then we can talk.”

kakucho did what he was told to, hissing and cursing when the alcohol stung on his injury. it could be even worse — kakucho saw so many lords falling from their horses who didn’t survive or that had broken a lot of their bones. his fall ended just with a cut on his temple. another scar to his collection, but this one was being treated by you.

and your hands were so gentle on his skin, cleaning the dried blood and sanitizing it, making sure that it wouldn’t infect and become worse. he almost slept again by your ministrations, but he wanted to look at you. to memorize your face, to encrave it on his brain. but his insecurities were starting to eat him from inside, and he held your wrist once more.

“kakucho…”

“stop my torment, lady y/n. say something, anything, to my confession. break my heart if you want, it’s yours to do as you please.” please, love me. it was what he wanted to say, but the words got stuck on his throat. you deserved so much more, so much better — not the jagged pieces of the broken man kakucho was, because, in the end, they would only cut and draw blood from you.

but the way your eyes were looking at him said that you were willing to put him back together, to mend the broken pieces and make him a functional man again with your love.

all you wanted to be was his moon, so you could show him all the little stars of your heart — that shined for him, and only for him.

after cleaning your hands, they found their way to cup kakucho’s face. “i am no lady, kakucho, and i’m sure i’m not worthy of a duke as yourself.” before he could protest, you continued. “but i love you, and i think this above all the societal rules.” he leaned into your touch, melting in the warmth of your skin. he never felt such happiness on his life before — to know the holder of his affections also loved him was something he never experienced before, and hearing i love you leaving your soft lips was something he needed to hear everyday.

you pressed a gentle kiss on his forehead. “you should rest a little more while i prepare a bath for you, alright? tomorrow a doctor will come to see how your injury is faring, i hope.”

“alright.” he answered, trying to get up to get a better view of you.

kakucho could never be bored while looking at you. every time he did, he discovered something else — like how you twirled a strand of your hair when you were too absorbed in a conversation, or how you fidgeted your fingers when you were too worried or nervous.

when the bath was ready, you helped him get up to reach the path, turning your back when he started to strip himself from his clothes. they were dirt with mud and grass, and also with a bit of his blood. he chuckled when he noticed you fidgeting your fingers, and he couldn’t help finding you too adorable. kakucho hissed when his skin touched the hot water, and you hurried to take his clothes from the floor.

“stay.” he commanded, his hand catching your wrist again.

“let me put your clothes somewhere else. i’ll be back quickly.” the knight watched as you discarded his clothes near his door, walking back to the tub and taking a seat in the corner of it.

kakucho intertwined your fingers again, finally allowing himself to relax. your free fingers were stroking his hair, and he could die now — because he would be the happiest man to cross the river between life and death. “tomorrow i’ll properly start to court you. expect flowers and gifts at every hour.”

you giggled. “you don’t need to, kaku.” the nickname was both sweet to say and to hear. “just a stroll in the gardens will be fine for me.”

“but not for me.” the determination lacing his voice startled you, but you smiled nonetheless. “you deserve that i give you a wedding ring made of stardust.” kakucho whispered. “you deserve a piece of the moon to illuminate your room instead of candles.” with every word, you leaned down and kakucho raised a bit from his seating position to get closer to you. “you deserve rose—”

before you knew it, you lost your equilibrium and fell inside the tub. the warm water wetted your light blue dress, and kakucho’s arms helped you to steady yourself. “i-i am sorry…”

but instead of reprimanding you, kakucho laughed. it was just like when you two were dancing in the ball, but you could hear it better. the sound made your heart flutter — it was like a child’s laugh, and you couldn’t help but laugh alongside him. the giggles were bubbling in your chest before you allowed yourself to laugh fully with kakucho because of your clumsiness.

it was when the laugh died down, however, that you noticed the reality of the situation.

kakucho was naked, and you were on top of him.

you squirmed on his lap, trying to get up, but he held you where you were with his strong hands. “if you keep squirming, i will not be able to control myself.” his head fell on your shoulder, and you held you breath. you could feel the warmth of his skin emanating from him, and you didn’t know if your face was hot due to embarrassment or from how warm kakucho was.

“kiss me.” you whispered, and he happily answered your wishes.

you both were inexperienced, but kakucho had the awkward tenderness of someone who has never been loved before, but was willing to try for you. his lips were soft and his chest was sturd, and you gasped when he pinched your hips. kakucho took that opportunity to deepen the kiss, exploring your mouth and trying to engrave the sensation on his mind — he wanted to know everything about you, the sound you’d make when you two consumed your marriage, the faces you would make when he was pleasuring you. kakucho wanted to know all your sins, while you wanted to know what was plaguing his mind day and night, ready to fight it to see him happy.

the kiss was broken for the need of air, and both you and kakucho were with reddened faces and swollen lips. you kissed his scar, and he sighed with the feeling of your lips on his scarred skin.

“i love you.” he whispered against the skin of your neck, his lips trickling the sensitive skin there.

you kissed his forehead again. “i love you too, kaku. i think i should get up be—”

“i told you two to not do anything before marriage!”

—

“how duke life is treating you, my dearest kakucho?” ran asked his friend, knowing very well how boring it was. “if you ever need guidance, just ask me.” the older man winked, a glint of proudness shining on his violet eyes.

it was the day when kakucho was going to test his wedding suit. king izana gave him and you the marriage ceremony and the feast — as well as a summer house and a trip to the beautiful beaches of brahman — as a gift, and yuzuha and hakkai the clothes. they said it was the least they could do for you two, but kakucho felt everything to be a bit too much. if he had his ways, he would have a private wedding, just you, him, his and your friends — he couldn’t wait to finally call you his wife.

he tensed when lord takashi did more adjustments to his suit. “don’t be nervous, your grace. i’ll make the suit the most comfortable you ever wore.”

kakucho nodded. “how did y/n look in her dress?” he asked curiously, because he couldn’t help himself.

“i can’t say, your grace. but she will be the most beautiful woman you have ever seen.” the tailor answered, while he finished his ministrations. “you can get back to your clothes again.”

you already were the most beautiful woman kakucho had ever seen.

he and ran returned to the king’s study chatting about the war, between toman and rokuhara tandai, that had just finished, their opinions not diverging from each other — lord south tried to pull the same move king taiju did, but he wasn't expecting brahman to run and help toman as soon as word reached king takeomi’s ears. the man was a beast in the battlefield, and he was nicknamed ‘god of war’ for a reason. south didn’t believe it, and was defeated by the sword of both kings.

izana smiled at kakucho when he and ran entered his study, the other knights already chatting with each other.

“what happened?” ran asked his younger brother, taking a seat next to him in the round table. kakucho did the same, but beside his king.

mucho was the one who spoke. “we will have a wedding to attend that isn’t our dear kakucho’s.”

the man in question raised his eyebrow. “whose marriage?”

“king takeomi is to marry lady kawata. his invitation arrived today, all of us are to go.” kakucho and ran looked shocked at the king, and izana chuckled.

“wasn’t she prince haruchiyo’s betrothed?” ran asked, visibly entertained by the family drama. kakucho wanted to know more too, but at least he had more decency than his friend and fellow duke.

“we can’t fight matters of the heart, ran.” he answered, happy that takeomi finally found happiness, and his mind drifted to you. how happy you always looked when he visited you and did the most mundane things, how flushed you would become when his hand touched yours, or how beautiful you would look in your wedding dress.

he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life — and all the others he would have — at your side.

[doomstypewriter]

Excuse me while I panic

Hi, I'm back from finals, but my brain is kind of dead right now, so enjoy this silly two-shot in the meantime.

Word count: 996 | AO3

Summary: Roman needs to get on with the program, realise his crush on Virgil and ask him out, because it's getting ridiculous.

At least Janus thinks so. Everybody does.

A wild crush has appeared, except it was there all along, Roman is just dumb <3

“It’d be a pity if you got over yourself and told Virgil you loved him already. Not that I care about his happiness or anything”.

Roman turned to face the back of the room, where Janus was sitting with a lap full of Patton, who just shrugged in agreement with a quizzical smile.

The treacherous acceptance Patton showed after Janus’ out-of-the-blue comment almost made Roman gasp.

“I just said I want to hang out with him this week”.

“And marry him the month after that, I suppose” Janus retorted.

“Okay, first of all, nah-uh, and second of all, I’d have expected this outright attack for you, but, Patton, are you going to stand watching him bullying me?!”

Just when he was about to reply, Janus intervened again, pretending to be distracted playing with Patton’s curls.

“Not quite, let me rephrase that for you: bullying you into getting ahead in life”.

“Hello?” Roman gestured at himself, only to feel even more increpated by Janus’ glancing at him up and down. “I’m dashing at all times, it’s you who should be putting in the effort”.

As per usual, Janus smirked, unimpressed. He ran a finger, scratching lightly, up Patton’s neck. Underneath the cardigan, a pair of shoulders rolled in a contained shudder.

“I already have. You, though, have achieved nothing. Also, why am I detecting” Janus said, raising a hand to cup behind his ear, “a hint of defensiveness? Honestly… well… as honestly as the budget allows, I am saying this for your sake. Take notes or something, Roman”.

Roman’s weight shifted from one leg to the other, he crossed his arms and gasped, for real this time.

“Excuse me?”

“Excused. I’ll dictate it for you: number one, dot, Janus has made me realise my lack of ambition, comma, I will ask Virgil out”. Janus changed the tone for a second, considering. “Hmmm… let’s say, at once, sounds very you, doesn’t it? Blah, blah, no ambition, I’m very dim, I will ask Virgil out at once, full stop. New paragraph: number two, dot, from now on, comma, I shall listen to Janus’ advice, comma, because he’s so right all the time, full stop”.

Once Roman came out of his astonishment, he closed his gaping mouth and pursed his lips like a child.

“Okay, that’s it, you did this. I’m calling the nerd”.

Janus had no time to complain, as Logan was summoned immediately thereafter.

“Lo, are you okay?!” Patton stirred in place after seeing Logan’s looks.

There, in all bizarre glory, stood Logan, draped in a lab coat with some unidentified stains, knee-length black rubber boots, safety glasses with what dangerously looked like a speckle of blood and a pair of gloves holding a scalpel.

“Don’t worry Patton, he’s just been playing with Remus” Janus offered.

Logan examined the room quickly, then cleared up his throat and blinked himself into his usual attire.

“I was in the middle of something”.

“Clearly” Roman muttered sarcastically.

“What do you need?” Logan made a point to ignore Roman’s comment.

Janus smiled calmly.

“Roman just called you so you can prove him wrong”.

Before the prince could retort, Logan nodded with a vague hint of amusement.

“Well, I can certainly do that”.

“You won’t need to, because it’s him who’s saying” Roman paused and endeavoured to make his best impression of Logan, “falsehoods”.

Logan frowned and crossed his arms.

“That is to be expected, so what is the context?”

“He says I need to ask Virgil out because he’s always right”.

Roman went on saying something along the lines of ‘like, I like Virgil, but not like that. And he’s just implying I’m in love with him, and I would know because, hi, Roman, romance? And Patton isn’t even defending me!’. All of that, Logan didn’t listen to, deciding to speak plainly.

“That’s incorrect, Janus gets things wrong often, it is, in fact, a statistical improbability to be right all the time. But, to be fair, out of all of you, he holds a higher average”.

“Exactly, that’s what I said” Roman shook his hand forward as if to underline how justified he felt. A moment later he went quiet. “Wait…”

“No need. I’ll finish dispatching this soon. So, no, Janus is not always right, but you would do well to heed to his advice on this occasion, seeing how it would help resolve your feelings for Virgil”.

“What?”

“Thank you, Logan” Janus said.

Logan nodded, satisfied with a good job.

“No need, happy to help”.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Roman exclaimed. “I have no feelings for Virgil…” he reconsidered, “not like that!”

In a quick save, Logan hid his laugh with a frown and an inhale.

“Excellent example of being wrong, you’ll be a great help to Logan’s statistics” Janus grinned.

Everybody was looking at him.

Normally, he’d like that, because it was the natural order of things. At the present time, though, he felt paralysed by a sudden onslaught of contradicting feelings and thoughts. Unfortunately, all of these things running through his mind popped in and out too fast for him to process them as more than a jumble of nonsense.

That is to say, he drew a complete blank, cursing his ADHD.

“But-but… I’m not in” he started slowly, trying to organise his ideas.

Then, went down with the first thing to come out of his mouth because working under pressure is not his thing.

“Like, I spend a ton of time with him, but what do you know? And, honestly, you’re just jealous Virge pays more attention to me because he’s almost as great as me. By the way, Janus steals your crofters when you don’t look, someone has to say it, because we’re outing people’s secrets, except not mine’s ‘cause I’m not in love with…”

Patton stood up, knowing he’d have to help everyone brace themselves.

All at the same time, the following was spoken or shouted:

“Snitch!”

“He did what?!”

“Oh my... I’m in love with Virgil”

Next>>

Thx for reading. Reblog or comment if it made you laugh <3

Taglist: COME AT ME BRO, COME AT ME, write a comment and tell me to tag you for the next chapter, I DARE YOU /nm /lh /j

[givemethatgold]

Fix’er Upper Pt 2

Pairing: Eventual Frankie “Catfish” Morales x F!Reader

Length: 1.5k words

Warnings: Too many commas, some extra ‘u’s in words as I’m Canadian..., not enough time spent world building. Hope y’all got an imagination.

Notes: They meet! They meet!  (Tags at the end.)

PART ONE

The morning sun saw Frankie already awake and amidst his trees. He knew that most people thought him stubborn by wanting to run his little orchard himself. He had heard the whispers, seen the side glances, the quirked eyebrows. The odd reputation he was gaining was worth the solitude and peace he had found.

The reputation of Town Recluse was better than That Ex-Cokehead Murderer. A small part of his brain knew that he was being too hard on himself but a larger part was convinced he deserved it. 

So, he worked his penance here. Frankie nursed the trees back to fruition, his sweat and blood sacrificed to bring forth life; refusing to use pesticides or any form of agent that might harm another living thing. Deer, rabbits, mice, and bugs were the bane of a harvester’s business but Frank had decided to find joy in their presence. If he didn’t have to see another death until his own, that would still be too soon.

It had taken him three years to get anything more than a few barrels of apples. Most asked why he didn’t just cut them all down and start anew. They didn’t understand, hell he barely did, but in his soul, Frankie knew he needed to prove that he could do good. He had made his own baskets, built sheds, mended fences, and slowly built the business and a small loft for himself in the old barn.

Looking down the rows and rows of trees, Frankie was starting to get the feeling he might need help this harvest season. It wasn’t easy for him to acknowledge this but if he didn’t get at least one helping hand, more than a few bin-fulls would go to waste. Frankie decided he would put up a flyer on the notice board the next time he went to town and pray that only quiet people would apply.

The trees were his pride and joy. A variety that had been lost and forgotten until he had bought the aging orchard and a man named Tom Brown had come along asking about the fruit.

He felt at peace when he worked as it let his mind focus on the job at hand and was tired enough to slip into a deep slumber at night. Previously plagued by nightmares, long days of pruning, fixing, or working in the mill proved the cure for a dreamless sleep.

“I’m sorry, how much did you say the total was?” you asked while rapidly trying to do some math in your head. If you purchased everything you needed at the hardware store that would only leave you forty-seven dollars left in this week’s budget. And it was only Monday. “Ermm, on second thought, I don’t know if I really need the plaster and trowel just yet. I’ll just take the drywall and screws, please.”

Leaving the store, head down, you were feeling like such an ass you didn’t even notice the two older ladies watching your exit and whispering madly to each other. The owner of Hank’s Hardware, whose name was oddly Allan, kindly helped you pile the drywall into your truck box. You were too busy with the tie-downs to notice him join in on the developing whispered plot.

Unable to resist, you purchased a bouquet of sunflowers. They were your favourite and, once you mentioned that you were new in town, the sweet older gentleman selling them gave you an extra bunch for free. The bright flowers lightened your heart enough to almost, almost, make you forget your even lighter wallet. 

The laden-down truck was nearly out of town when you spotted an open-air market down a side street. It had a surprising number of booths set up and looked so welcoming that you couldn’t resist.

Slowly walking between the stalls, you smiled at each vendor and complimented their handiwork. A few you recognized and thanked for the delicious foods they had brought by when you had first moved in.

You wished you could have supported more of the vendors, you respected their ability to create and be confident enough to share their wares. Taking one last look around, your gaze was caught by a familiar logo: it was the same one you had seen scattered across your porch a few weeks ago. ‘Catfish Cider’ in bold script framing a picture of a gnarled old tree. Maybe you should buy some and have Jacquie over for a less depressing girl's night? But could you afford it, even with leaving behind some of the reno items at Hank's?

You didn’t realize how long you had been standing there staring at the display until a voice called out.

“You gonna buy something or just wanted to block off my stand?”

Whipping your head up you noticed the man standing behind the stand for the first time. His face, for the moment, set into a grimace you assumed was due to him being upset at your loitering.

“I dunno,” you fired back, annoyed by his annoyance and too tired to stop yourself from saying a bratty, “is it actually worth the money?” 

His grimace turned into eyebrow-raising shock, the tan skin of his rather attractive face reddening a shade or two with anger.

“Oh, you have such a discerning pallet to know better?”

“I- what? No! I just want to make sure I’m spending my money on something worthwhile.”

“Like flowers?” He challenged, his stance widening and arms crossing across his chest. 

You’d seen that pose too many times in the past; Brad used to tower over you posturing himself just like this asshole at the market. He liked to hover over you menacingly any time you had mustered up your courage to state an opinion or to belittle your ideas. It made you inwardly flinch, making you angry at yourself for still acting like a meek victim, and then, in a show of great maturity, you projected that anger onto the stranger who initiated the exchange.

“Like it’s any of your business!” You cried out in a shrill voice you didn’t even recognize as your own. “But yes, these flowers make me happier than anything else I’ve seen today could.”

“I’ll have you know-” he ground out, jabbing his finger at you.

“Nope!” You interrupted him, “I’m going to stop you right there. I’m done listening to men like you!” 

“Men like me? Men like ME?” He crowed, “Pray tell, what the hell do you know about men like me?”

Had you been acting like a functioning adult you might have realized that your voices were beginning to get noticeably loud. A small crowd around the two of you had stopped what they were doing to listen while also trying to look like there weren’t eavesdropping.

“I know all I need to,” you proclaimed, not quite able to stop the tremble in your voice. “and I’m not going to waste any more of my life listening to one.” With that, you sharply turned and made your way through the suddenly thick crowd of people.

Once the adrenaline from your encounter had worn off, you found yourself crying in your truck and regretting the way you had snapped. The hot guy at the stand might have been a bit brash with you but he hardly deserved you taking out all your inner turmoil on him like that.

Frankie winced again, thinking about how quickly out of hand the conversation had gotten. His remark was supposed to come out light and teasing but he was out of practice talking to people. Pretty people. People who were framed by armfuls of sunflowers, whose skin glowed in the Autumn sun, who had a ready smile for everyone she talked to. 

He had found himself craving one for himself, and when she had stopped at his booth, looking lost in thought, he silently begged for her to look up. Impatient, he just blurted out the first words that came to his head and instantly regretted even trying. His cheeks grew red from embarrassment and Frankie just stood there looking at her blankly, not sure how to salvage the situation.

Before he could open his mouth to apologize though, the woman responded with a retort of her own. While it could have been interpreted as teasing, there had been a fiery glint in her eye that had pushed his pride button. Frankie was suddenly ready to throw down or at least regale her with the accolades of his cider and how it came to be.

What a mess he had made. He had riled up the beautiful stranger to the point her voice had wavered with barely repressed emotion. Not to mention the stir he had caused in front of half the town.

Once the market quieted down and everyone was closing up shop, Greg from the stall next to his, called over, “Know who that was?”

Even though it had been over an hour since the spat, Frankie knew he was referring to the woman with the sunflowers.

“Hopefully just some Leaf Peeper, I’d hate to run into her again.”

“Oooooh I dunno,” mused Greg, “A woman with passion in her blood like that can be a boon to crusty old men like us.”

Frankie noticed the gleam in Greg’s eyes and felt an odd burning in his stomach because of it. It was not jealousy at the unbidden image of Greg and the woman together. Definitely not.

PART THREE

@rebelliouscat @pedro4ever @speakerforthedead0 @yespolkadotkitty @ilikechocolatemilkh @weirdowithnobeardo @pedro-pastel @disgruntledspacedad @a-skov 

[clood]

Weird Questions for Writers: 1, 4, 15, 16, 24, 35, 39

eek thank you!!

1. What font do you write in? Do you actually care or is that just the default setting?

if i change the font, i write in times new roman xD i am a science bitch through and through!! i have it set to my default on actual word, but in google docs it's just on arial and i only change it if it starts to bother me. i only care about 25% of the time!

(however i will not write in comic sans ever. no matter who tells me it's good for writer's block or creativity or whatever. i will write in wingdings before i write in comic sans.)

4. What’s a word that makes you go absolutely feral?

feral in a good way? desperate, profound, beholden

feral in a bad way? orbs, member, squelched

15. Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Why or why not? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends?

hmm i tend not to write in books, one reason being that i was always told i would like, go to baby jail if i did so. another being i don't really own that many physical books. i'm not about to deface public library property! if i like something, i will copy it into my ongoing note in my phone titled "lines that i like" so that i can later go back and reread them and be fond and mushy.

i use bookmarks because i think they are so cute and fun. also i like to use random things too because that way if i ever forget them in books from the library, i might give the next reader a silly little treat.

i do read in the bath, but mostly i will put on an episode of something instead. this way, i am reminded to actually exit the tub at some point, because otherwise i will decay in there and never get out xD

i will be friends with everyone, though i slightly question the people who do the millions of sticky tabs in their books to mark moments. idk, it seems sort of wasteful. but also they are enjoying themselves and their book so whatever :)

16. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever used as a bookmark?

haha. i stole a drawing of a fish i had found at a beach house my bf and his family were staying in one spring break. it was a doodle some random stranger had left behind! not sure where it is now :(

honorable mentions include to/from tags my mom made for christmas with pictures of my dogs, and also a cheese stick. (wrapped)

24. How much prep work do you put into your stories? What does that look like for you? Do you enjoy this part or do you just want to get on with it?

this depends! for arms unfolding and where are you roaming, my two big multichaps, i have done extensive outlines. i say extensive, but really it's just been me rambling about what i want in the chapters. for smaller works it either looks like a few random bullet points or i just start writing right away, lest the ideas leave my head before they're out on paper.

i do really love the frantic, word-vomit stage of planning though! it's so crazy and chaotic for me most of the time and it's funny to go back to it as i'm getting further into the story and be like, "oh, yeah. that's where i was going with this!! such enthusiasm!!"

35. What’s your favorite writing rule to smash into smithereens?

i'm a comma abuser.. idk man i feel like a lot of the time i just slap commas wherever the hell i please and neither god nor google docs grammar checker will get me to take them out.

39. What keeps you writing when you feel like giving up?

this will definitely come off as super sappy but it's definitely the community of people i've been lucky enough to find myself a part of. all of the incredible friends i've made through fanfiction/fanart are such an inspiration to me, and it's really been such a blessing to be able to hear everyone's takes on everything—the good stuff and the bad. like, whenever someone is down on one of their pieces or super stuck on something, i try to be supportive and hear them out, so it would be unfair to myself to not give myself the same treatment. also, everyone rocks and is so kind that they really motivate me to keep going :)

THIS BECAME SO LONG I'M SO SORRY XD

[hphmmatthewluther]

Merula Snyde and the Letter from Someone

To  Dear To  Merula,

 The sound of scrunching up paper is heard, followed by a quiet thump as the ball of scrap is thrown into the bin.

 Merula,

 I don’t know if this’ll get to you before Christmas, but I wanted to send this to you anyway as a present. In the parcel is a Walkman, which allows you to listen to music wherever you want, as well as a tape with some of my favourite songs on it. Also in there is a list of all the corridors and areas I managed to charm so they could allow muggle devices to work (I don’t know if it’ll work in the Dungeons- Snape caught me while I was doing the spell and told me to leave - sorry.)

 I hope you’re having an okay time, I imagine the castle is a fair bit quieter now, which should be nice. I know that Chiara and Talbott are staying at Hogwarts over the summer, and so maybe it would be nice to spend time with them...well, maybe with Chiara, Talbott likes to keep to himself really.

 Well,  The Celestial Ball was amazing, Merula, as I knew it would be from the moment I asked you to go with me. I know I’m not that good with words, which is sort of why I’ve sent you that tape. As crazy as it sounds, I couldn’t really see myself going with anyone other than you. I still enjoy our rivalry, of course, but I can’t deny how what happened there made me feel.

 I can’t wait to see you again,

 Matthew.

 ***

 Trembling pale hands with slightly faded nail varnish held the letter over a sofa, as their owner’s pink eyes read its contents. Then she read it again. And again. And a fourth time. Merula took a deep breath. Her mind was, to put it mildly, a bit of a mess right now. It was the day before Christmas Eve (Matthew had once called it Christmas Eve Eve, which even Merula found pretty funny) and she had been sitting in her room when the most evil-looking owl in history had flown into the Dungeons to deliver her a smallish parcel and a letter. She had been even more surprised to learn that this Owl belonged to Matthew Luther, who she had, as the letter reminded her, went with to the Celestial Ball just a week ago. Merula sighed. He’d written to her. He couldn’t wait to see her again. Merula didn’t notice herself giggling. She’d sat down in the corridor, with the walkman on her lap, and Matthew’s owl giving her the evil eye. She traced her finger over the final paragraph again, glad that nobody else was in the Common Room.

 Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed someone standing in the doorway in a purple hoodie. Merula’s eyes widened as Night Rhea merely grinned at her.

“Eep!” Merula exclaimed, clutching the letter close to her chest, “Wh-what is it?! What do you want?!”

Merula’s fear only grew at the sound of more Slytherins entering the common room. Night looked at Merula, at the letter, at Matthew’s Owl, and at the pink on her cheeks. Merula gulped as they grinned an almost sinister grin.

“Hey look! Matthew sent Merula something!” they exclaimed. At once there was a sound of “ooh!”s as the group moved into the Common Room. Merula recognised Cres Aragon, Ismelda, Liz and Barnaby in the crowd. Uh oh.

 “Ooh Matthew’s written to you!” Cres exclaimed, stepping forward. “Told you he would.”

“I...” Merula began. She took a breath. She was not going to be dragged into one of these simpering gossip circles. “Of course he did. This is Matthew we’re talking about.” She looked over at Matthew’s owl, which squinted at her.

“I didn’t expect him to have such a cool owl.” Ismelda admitted. “Dark. Brooding. Evil. Like my soul.”

“Matthew sent you a letter?!” Barnaby asked, “What did he say? Was it about how you two-'' he stopped suddenly looking at Merula’s face. “...um, how you went to the Celestial Ball together?”

“None of your business!” she snapped. “What Luther may or may not have written to me about does not concern any of you!”

“I think it does, Snyde...” Night said, leaning forward. “In fact I - Expelliarmus!”

 The letter went flying, and Night moved forward to catching, smirking as they succeeded. Turning to the others, and ignoring Merula’s pleas, they read over the letter. And smiled once again.

“Aww...what a romantic.” Night sighed, pretending to wipe away a tear. “You’ve found yourself a keeper, Snyde.”

Merula went a deep red. “I...uh...”

“Go on, Night, read it!” Cres said, sitting down in front of the large window overlooking the floor of the Lake.

Night looked at Merula. She didn’t seem to be enjoying this one bit. They sighed, and passed the letter back to Merula. “She can read it if she wants to.”

Merula nodded, taking the paper back. She looked around at the others, and sighed. “D-don’t tell anyone about this, ok?”

The group nodded. Merula sighed, and read Matthew’s words aloud. As she did, she found it very hard to keep her face in a scowl. By the time she had finished, she had a small but visible smile on her face.

 The group instantly erupted into conversation.

“Way to go, Merula!” laughed Cres.

“Who’d have thought Matthew’d have it in him to write that?” Night pondered aloud.

“Hmph. Muggle music is...isn’t bad...” Ismelda admitted.

“Where’s this man meant to be walking to?” Barnaby asked, gazing at the strange device.

“So what are you going to say back?” Liz asked her, feeding the owl a treat from her pocket.

“N-None of your business, Lizard!” Merula snapped, “I..I...I dunno, okay! I’m not used to letter-writing, I...look, I wanted to just send him some chocolate or something, you know, but now he’s sent me this and...”

“Why don’t you just send a small message,” suggested Cres, “you could put it on the tag or something, couldn’t you?”

 Merula grinned wildly for a moment, before racing off into the girls’ dormitories. When she returned, she had a christmas present with red wrapping, as well as a large owl following her. She put the present down on the table, and Merula’s owl sat beside Matthew’s, both immediately starting to stare each other down.

“Okaaay...” Merula began, Night noticing that she was using a pen, “What do I put?”

Barnaby raised an eyebrow. “You’re...asking us?”

“I thought you said it was ‘none of our business’, Merula...” sneered Ismelda. Merula ignored her.

“Okay…’Matthew’...’comma’” she muttered.

“Good start, Snyde.” chuckled Night.

“Hush, Rhea.” Merula snarled. “Where was I…’Thank-’”

“No, don’t start with the thank you, you’ll run out of things to say.” Liz said sagely.

“Fine. ‘The music is great. Thank you for the present and for your letter...’”without saying it aloud, she then wrote ‘I eagerly await your return to Hogwarts...it’s rather dull without you.’

“...Thanks again, Merula.” she finished, putting the pen back into her pocket. She then moved past Night over to her and Matthew’s owl.

“Just follow him, okay?” she asked. Her owl nodded. Matthew’s owl audibly scoffed at her, an impressive achievement for an owl. Merula then left with the two owls for the Owlery. When she got there, she was slightly surprised to see Talbott Winger there, feeding the owls.

“Can...I help you?” he asked, not looking away from the owls in front of him.

“I’m....just sending a letter to M-...to Luther,” she explained, wincing at her minor slip-up…”What about you?”

“Being alone...or at least I was.” Talbott sighed, getting up, “Is that a present for him?”

“None of your business, birdbrain!” Merula yelled, before looking down at the present. “...sorry. It’s just...I’m new to this, and want to go at my own pace, you know?”

Talbott stared at her, this other Merula which until now only Matthew and maybe Tulip had been able to see. “...he’s really started to rub off on you, you know that?”

Merula chuckled as the owls left with Matthew’s present in tow. She looked down at the walkman, put one headphone up to her ear, and pressed play. It worked.

“Yeah...” Merula said, as if just remembering then that Talbott was still there, “Maybe you’re right.”

(Night Rhea belongs to @night-rhea​ and Cres Aragon belongs to @cres-aragon��� !)

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

“YES, I CAN HEAR YOU”

Johnny “Coco” Cruz x Reader

Anon asked: could you write something angsty with angel or coco?

Warning: a little angst.

Word Count: 2.1k

Author comments: I hope you all enjoy. English isn’t my first language, I’m sorry if I have some mistakes with grammar. Gif isn't mine. Also, I didn't study anything about Medicine, but I like drama.

Tag list: @starrynite7114 @chibsytelford @dazzledamazon @mara-mpou 💥 (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

You didn't see the car, but you felt how you flew off the motorbike, falling into the wet ground. Last thing you saw were two girls screaming and running to you, covered by pain. The agonic kind you feel before die.

━━━━━━ ﹅ ━━━━━━

“What happened?!” Coco shouts crying when he finds the doctor. He's being followed by the crew, and Letti being supported by Chucky. She can't even walk without falling down.

“Johnny Cruz?”

“Yes, what happened?!”

“A car crashed her motorbike. She has several bruses, three broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder and... we had to induce her into comma. The helmet saved her life”.

The world falls down to his feet. His legs trembled. Tranq forces him to have a seat, while the crying of Letti floods thr hallway. The faces of the guys talk for them. Coco is sobbing with his head between his arms, shaking it. No air in his lungs for a few seconds.

“Is gonna get better...?” Creeper asks with trembling voice, something they want and they don't want to know.

“We don't know”.

“What do ya' mean, uh?!” Coco jumps off his sit about to take him by the coat. Taza and Riz hold him apart, trying to calm the youngest.

“Next... hours... are crucial”. The doctor replies scared, walking back two steps.

“Can we... see her?” Letti talks, leaving away Chucky, with her eyes and cheeks covered in tears. The man nods pointing the room. She runs, her father too.

Their lives fall apart when they find you. You're laying in the bed with a tube in your mouth and a lot of cables around your body: connected to some fingers, another in your wrist, two in your nose. The girl has to cover her mouth before start crying loudly. Coco wrapped in his arms tightly, giving her a kiss on top of his head. Angel can't go to the room, he's not ready to see you and it hurts his chest too much.

You've been there for them the last five years, always helping the MC with whatever they asked you for. And Coco's daughter is your bestfriend since you met each other. It's painful can't do anything to help you when you most need them.

“Sometimes, they can listen”. The doctor says, holding your medical record between both hands. “I recommend you talk to her as normal as possible. I mean, talk about how were your day, what movie you saw on tv...”

“Stay with her, brother. I'm gonna do all the paperwork”. Bishop puts a hand on his shoulder, stretching it for a second. “The club will pay everything”.

“You don't ha...”

“She's one of us, Coco. Club decision”.

━━━━━━ ﹅ ━━━━━━

Yes, you could hear them.

Members of Stockton, Yuma and Samcro went to visit you. They talked you about how was going everything and telling you that, when you came home, a big party would be waiting you. The longest one with the four charters together. And you would like to smile, to say that will be amazing, but you can't.

Bishop, Tranq and Taza visited you every night. They laugh about something funny happened that day. Maybe Chucky left the crane on and destroyed a car. Maybe Angel got slapped by one of Vicky's girl. Or the recurrent story in wich they tell you that a cat went inside the clubhouse and broke a whole box full of beers, before lick it from the floor.

Riz, Creeper and Gilly went often. Every three or four hour you heard them saying “hi, pequeña, we're here again to bother you”. Sometimes they argued about what tv show is better, or talk about they wanted a new tattoo and you should choose it when you're awake.

The Reyes family always went together. Felipe was the optimist one. He used to tell you about his childhood and adolescence. Funny stories of an old man. EZ and Angel are like your brothers, so seeing you in that kind of conditions was painful. But they were there too, telling you everything was gonna be ok and how much they were missing you.

Letti and Coco made the hospital their home. Bishop ‘gave a present’ to have a bigger room with comfy sofas where they could sleep better. The younger was forced to continue with the high-school, being picked up by Chuky to go back to the hospital. Coco never left you, holding your hand, kissing you all the time. He also cleaned your face every morning and every night. Brushed your hair and put some of his cologne in your pillow to make you felt like you were at home. When he wasn't reading you ‘Hamlet’, 'cause EZ told him was your favourite book, making a lot of additionals comments like ‘shit, baby, everybody dies here’ or ‘what the hell is happening’; he mostly was in silence, blaming himself for what happened that night.

It was raining. A rare storm installed on Santo Padre and the surroundings. You were mad because you came home and he wasn't there, even when he promised you to make dinner and have some free time of the chaos. You had the accident on your way to the clubhouse. Two young girls were driving a car without license. They skipped a red light, tripling the allowed speed. You were there. And, like the doctor said, the helmet Coco gave you for your last birthday saved your life. One of those with full structure wich covered your head, face and neck. But your cross motorbike broke into pieces. But this was the less important.

Because of the shock and the pain, you had a kind of respiratory failure. Your lungs couldn't work. You also broke the left wrist and dislocated the right shoulder. Three splintered ribs, bruises around your body and a lash on the neck. The good news were that you only would need three months of rehabilitation and one for rest, after it. The comma was something preventive.

━━━━━━ ﹅ ━━━━━━

“Dammit, mami! You look good in this white pajama!” Coco gives you a kiss on the forehead, laying on the hospital bed, when the nurses have showered you. He puts an arm under your neck, carefully, holding you next to his body.

As the days goes by, you have less cables connected. You also don't need a mask to breathe better anymore and the analyzes show positive results. The crew, your family, are happy and feels better.

“You know, we talked about marriage and this... bullshit, and no following traditions, but white is definitely your color, baby”. He has a smile on his tired face, stroking your hair. “We've to marry, you hear me?”.

Tears running again down by his cheeks, pressing his lips against your temple with all the love he feels for you.

“You...” Your throat is dry and it hurts a little, but you're feeling like life is giving you a second chance. So you take it.

“(Y/N)?” Letti jumps off of the couch, Creeper and Gilly walks to the bed. Coco is looking at you with his eyes opened like never before. Everyone is having a heartattack.

“Fuc... Fucking crybaby”. With a lot of effort you smile being sleepy yet.

“Baby! Mami! Can 'hear me?”

You nod one time, drawing a painful gesture on your face. Everyone goes crazy. Creeper shouts calling the doctor, Letti hugs you and Gilly starts to call the crew by phone. You can feel Coco's hand narrowing yours, kissing your lips once and again desperately.

“Shit, mami, you scared me”. He laughs in tears, while you try to put an arm on Letti's back. “How 'feel? Need something?”

“Wa-Water, please...” You mutter clicking the tongue.

Letti, literally, runs to the table three meters away to take a small bottle. Carefully she offers you directly to your lips with soft sips. Oh, god, it feels like heaven when the liquid falls down by your throat till your stomach. The headache is gone, as the pain that involved your body the last two weeks. The plaster in your wrist is a little uncomfortable, taking a look of it raising the heavy hand in air. You look around confused and kinda anxious. It wasn't a dream. You're really there.

“What happened? Where's my bike?” You inquire, turning your face to Coco with your mouth almost open. By his gesture you know he hasn't any good to say. Licking your inner lip, you nod.

“Two crazy chicks ran you ove’, (Y/N)” He stucks both ankles on the mattress, taking your hand between his to gives you some kisses. He closes his eyes stroking one of his cheek with it. You can see the black shadows under his eyelids and the beard in the jaw.

Moving yourself all you can, you take his other cheek with the tiny fingers, inside the cast around your arm, and a wince, bowing to him. You press your lips against his, softly, in a warm way. You need to say ‘thank you for being my anchor’ without words, and Coco can feel it. You love him. You love him the most and nothing else matters. Hugging him, you start to cry. He couldn't felt the pain in every inch of your body, but you felt every day his. And it was horrible couldn't say you were ok, and you were hearing everything he said to you, hold his hand or move your head.

“This wasn't your fault”. You say, brushing his lips with yours. “Don't say that again. It was those girls, not you Coco. Even the storm has more fault on it”.

“Must have been home, baby... Making dinner, waitin' you”. He shakes his chin, closed eyes, noses lifting perfectly as a puzzle.

“Coco, stop”. You demand kissing him again, before be interrupted by the doctor.

“(Y/N), is good to see you awake. How you feel?”

“Like I learned to fly in the worst way”. Trying to laugh, coughs some times. Letti smiles laying next to you. She missed you too a lot and, by difference, she was who talked you the most. Even Gaby went to see you.

“Sense of humor is a good omen. Do you wan...”

“Oh, god, please don't. I heard it a thousand times”. You beg for a moment. “Wrist, ribs, shoulder, neck, blablabla... How many time do I have to stay here?”

“If everything goes as good as now, maybe in one or two weeks you'll be at home”.

“You hear' that, mami? You should have your meds and do whatever doc' says, to come home next week”. Coco sounds excited, smiling for the first time since one month ago. He kisses you again all over your face, holding you in his arms.

“Enjoying your holidays?” Angel's voice sounds agitated, stopping at the door till your eyes meet.

In two big steps he reaches the bed, while Coco gives you some space to be hugged for the man with a biggest smile in his face. The crew start to arrive too. Jokes, laughs and kisses flood the room. You can see some colorful flowers around, even two huge balloons are floating in a corner. That probably was Riz's idea. You're pretty sure.

━━━━━━ ﹅ ━━━━━━

“You good, mami?”

Lights off and one of your legs on his waist. Coco has you between his arms, tightly and warmly. You're finally home, in your bed, smelling again like your favourite human being. Happiness isn't enough to explain how you feel, hidding your face under his chin.

“I always am when I'm with you, papi”. You say in a whisper, tangling your fingers in his shirt to put him closer. “Will you read me tomorrow a little more of ‘Hamlet’? It was my favourite part of the day”.

“'Course I'll do, baby. I'll do anythin' ya' ask me for”.

[trulycertain]

fic writer interview

Tagged by @skogrr Thank you very much! It's a while since I've done one of these, and I've missed them.

Name: Tru/"Oi you" Fandoms (that I write for): Dragon Age, mostly. Still the fandom of my heart. Mass Effect, Deus Ex... uh, accidentally GreedFall? I don't know how or when that happened. Two-shot: Hmm... The actual last two-shot I wrote was Terms & Conditions, a very silly Dorian/Inquisitor modern AU where Gal is the guy Dorian hires to stop his late father's house falling apart. Recently? I suspect that's going to be Driftwood, which can stand on its own as a sort of weird post-canon first-meeting AU, but is trying to tempt me to continue it. (Vasco ends up going looking for Tír Fradí, which has disappeared - and finds it. He also finds De Sardet as a highly avoidant tree god of the island, post-Bad Ending, who transformed against her will. And he ends up falling in love with her anyway.) Weird tree gods! Pining by literal pine! An eventual happy ending! More grumpy commentary by Vasco!

Most popular multi-chapter: Either An Unquenchable Flame or Distraction, probably - both juggernaut pairings, the former close to the game's release and the latter with some fancy forbidden romance, so not so surprising. But surprisingly, Prague, 10:42 PM has done really well, considering it's for a small fandom (Deus Ex) and a rarepair age/rank-difference pairing that I thought would be a one-off experiment? I get it, guys. I like sad repressed stoics too.

Actual worst part of writing: Editing - which can be fun, but that "over and over" stage when you're about to post, especially in a longfic if you fear you've lost the spirit of the thing and the character voices and you can't see the wood for the trees. And when I have to remove a whole scene which Jenga-unbalances the fic, and then I have to redux from the top. Basically, most things to do with pacing. How you choose your titles: I like double-meanings and one word titles. If that fails: quote from a song. If that fails: quote from poetry, but very rarely. Do you outline: Only a little. A bulletpointed list of events or noted-down major lines of dialogue, that's usually it.

Ideas I probably won’t get around to but wouldn’t it be nice: Uh... oh god. I blame so many people for some of these.

Post-Destroy ending where John is attempting to build a shed on Rannoch because that's the kind of thing retired people do, right? and Tali is far better at it than him, and it's just... disgusting fluff.

Actually, just reduxing the early John/Tali stuff with a bit more nuance and a stronger style.

Eva and Kaidan, and their mutually wary first meeting. ("Wow, that's a lot of pomade." "Wow, that's a lot of death-glare.")

AU where Gal and Dorian never met in DAI, and after everything went down, Gal tried to fade into the shadows and leave. He ended up working in Tevinter as an occasional informant/odd-jobs guy the way he was pre-Inquisition. He ends up being a gardener for a bitter, wry magister who seems to hate the entire Magisterium, has recently lost his father to political scheming and murder, and wants to take down the entirety of the remaining Venatori with one staff and maybe his teeth if he has to (hi, Dorian). But first, Dorian's going to drink his own body weight in whiskey and be a recluse for a while and start thinking about time magic again. Gal is trying to keep his head down and should definitely not be falling in love with said magister. Who's someday going to end up at one of the more southerly ports, come across a statue of the great Inquisitor, and go, Oh.

Stuff on Jensen's PT and rebuilding himself post-augs. More of Proprioception, basically.

Mer-AU where Marie De Sardet is still a diplomat attempting to make new connections, just not a human one, and it's a disaster. An awkward disaster. Highlights include her being framed as the beast trying to drown their best captain; her attempting to wobble about on brand-new legs and Vasco's coat while everyone assumes the dear captain has had a few too many; her asking Vasco if his "fascinating markings" glow; them getting into a duel, and her (fondly) getting punted off the side of the ship going "Woo-hoo." OK, I wrote a bit of that, but only a 1k doodle I'll probably never return to.

Non-Naut court AU where Marie gets promised to Bastien D'Arcy, because he's a bit of a layabout but he's also rich, popular at court, and amenable to bribe - [cough] suggestion, and the D'Arcys have prominent trading links with the Alliance. Instead she falls for his far less of a social butterfly, tired, worried-numbers-guy brother Léandre, who's pretty damn uncomfortable around Nauts because he's well aware he nearly got sold to them and he is not the favourite.

Straight-up role-reversal AU (another thing where I've put down 1k that I'll probably never return to), where Marie's Naut name is Paz, and she's a fed-up second-mate who's tired of noble idiots and feels a little strange and conflicted about her mark (and has context for it, because they make frequent crossings to Tír Fradí). Also a little more jaded, without the love of her mother, and not nearly as much of a tryhard as Vasco in canon; she ended up here because she had nowhere else to go and the Nauts were like "Ooh, free kid," and she's well aware. She gets stuck escorting the D'Arcy brothers to Tír Fradí for their new venture and is not looking forward to it. Except one of them is intensely bright and wry and keeps asking questions about the ship and noticing shit he is definitely not meant to notice, and they keep ending up in strange conversations, even if he seems really, really wary and uncomfortable about Nauts.

Some vague stuff about Vasco's thoughts on Jonas and that whole side quest, considering he's also a sea-given and implies sea-given take some shit in the Nauts, and also how damn difficult it must be watching a sea-given's parents endeavour to get their kid back when he knows full well his didn't do that for him.

Actually, just more Vasco POV in general, even though he's damn hard to nail down. I've written much pining for him from Marie's perspective, and I'd like to try things from the opposite. This guy's idea of wooing someone perfectly normally is to panic and then recite Baroque poetry. You know he's sappy as hell in the privacy of his own head, even if he's trying not to be.

Jean and Síora having the "I'm a sad healer who just lost my mother and I'm trying so hard not to crumble under the weight of assisting the leader" mutual talk way too late at night around the campfire and maybe him crying on her shoulder a little, with mutual kindness and the beginnings of attraction, and her finally getting past his jokey-smug facade to understand him.

More stuff about Jean's past in general, and how he wanted to be a doctor before he was dragged away from it by looking after Constantin and being nobility.

Síora and Eseld and the ways they changed over the years; something like an exploration of grief and growing her own will and the ways they very differently view the renaigse. Also maybe more about the en ol menawi magic, if I can worldbuild well enough?

I'd also love to do a GreedFall soulmark AU - it's generally not my kind of trope, I'm not into biological determinism type tropes - just because names and aliases and assumed identities are such a mess in GreedFall and it's a repeated plot point. That said, I feel like it's been done so beautifully in this fandom before that I wouldn't have much to add.

Callouts @ me: So. Many. Commas. So much over-explaining everything. If they get out of the car, your readers do not need a five-page manual of "and then he undid his seatbelt and leaned over to grasp the door handle, and then pulled it, and then stepped a foot out before he almost thought better of it - but no, he was going to get out of this car. The other foot joined the first, and he nearly banged his head on the doorframe."

Best writing traits: People say I have a head for finding small-but-important moments. I'm also told I write likeable protags. People have more than once said my writing makes them feel safe or makes them smile, and I really couldn't ask for more than that. I'll take those.

Spicy tangential opinion: I don't think I have any, really? Oh god, that makes me sound so very boring. Oh! Um. There should be more tree body horror in fandom. And body horror in general. *thumbsup*

No pressure tagging: @artemis-crimson, @eridanidreams,@rainypixel, @aphreal42.

[rubickk7]

Fic Writer Interview Meme

Thanks for the tag, @lizardkingeliot.

name: Rubick

fandoms: The Magicians. I dabble in Drarry and some MCU, as well as OW for exchanges.

two-shot: This is Me Trying for TM – Queliot. It was meant to be a one-shot for the folklore event, but I wound up writing a second chapter.

most popular multi-chapter fic: i’ll put your poison in my veins – TM, Queliot. That was surprising to me, because it’s teen rated and I posted it after some fandom drama that I thought would result in less readers for me. But I think it has an interesting premise that drew people in, and it was posted not too long after S5 hit Netflix, which probably resulted in some new fans looking for fix-its.

actual worst part of writing: Just like. Writing. Lol. Working through the hurtful/mundane parts of getting a plot together, the gross feeling when you think everything on the page is shit.

How you choose your titles: I like to try to pick a title that gives the reader some kind of an idea of what the story is about. I feel like when you see the title Quentin Coldwater and the Universal Truth (That a Slytherin as hot as Eliot Waugh would never be attracted to a Hufflepuff such as himself), you might be able to tell that this is an HP/P&P AU. And Professor Coldwater: Social Maladjustment 101 was pretty apt. But sometimes I also go for song lyrics that feel appropriate. And sometimes I pick a line from the story, like with Jamba Juice or French Toast.

do you outline: For anything longer than a one-shot, yes. PC had a 30-something page outline, and for my smaller multi-chaps, there is at least a synopsis, a “what happened before the story,” and a general scene list. My stories do usually change as I write, but I typically have an end goal in mind.

ideas you probably won’t get around to, but wouldn’t it be nice: I have quite an idea list. The other day I was tossing around an Eliot/Alice grief-banging in 5.3 idea, followed by Quentin being resurrected and why don’t they just form a foursome w/ Margo? But I doubt I will ever write that unless prompted in an exchange or gift or something.

I have a few Wickoff ideas – like Penny 23 peacing out and leaving Julia with the baby, and Kady stepping in to help her. A Malice ‘When Harry Met Sally’ with Queliot as the best friend couple. Using that spell swap we saw at the end of S4 that was used to get Qualice back together, but instead Eliot uses it to go back to 1.1 and warn Quentin. Of what? I Have no idea. A few fics inspired by songs – Hoax by T. Swift, Waking Up Slow, Figure it Out by Orla Gartland. Another Wickoff where Julia’s time in the monster (aka her happy place) leads her to Kady. Tattoo artist Eliot. And like 6 other bunnies from @freneticfloetry I will get to one day…

callouts @ me: Learn how to use commas properly, whore. And stop starting sentences with “God” and “so” and “well…” YOU do that, not your characters.

best writing traits: I have some decent moments writing dialogue. I have gotten compliments on how I write Margo. I am very goal/project oriented, and I hate leaving projects unfinished. AKA it would be really hard for me to abandon a WIP.

Spicy tangential opinion: Hrm. I think Quentin likes to dance, he just doesn’t do it much b/c he’s Quentin. I like Charlton, I just don’t like him with Eliot. I don’t mind Margo/Josh, and honestly I think Josh much have something going on in his pants or in the bedroom to keep her around (see Surprise Dick Energy). I could see Alice/Josh, mainly because I think once Josh stumbles into these hot ladies, he will do any and everything to keep them around. Hrm… how else can I upset people… I don’t think Quentin is near as much of a bottom and I don’t think Eliot is near as much of a top as the fandom insinuates (she says as she looks at her numerous fics where she’s written these very characterizations). Oh sorry this question said “opinion” singular so guess I’ll stop there.

Tagging @freneticfloetry @hoko-onchi-writes @obsidianschild @shmazarov @eidetictelekinetic and anyone else that wants to do this.

[severusminerva]

One Monstrous Miracle (Part One)

Hi! Here is the story that was promised! I have no idea where this is going to take me, but I hope that all of you will enjoy the journey as much as I will. Thanks for stopping by!

Pairing: Aziraphale/Human!Reader

Summary: Through miraculous events of unknown origin, Y/N stumbles upon an antique bookshop one afternoon, and from then on, the universe is never the same. 

Warnings: Just bad usage of commas! 

Word Count: 1232

Next

(Let me know if you would like to be tagged in future chapters!)

                Today had been rather a long day for you, something that was quickly becoming the norm. Work was difficult, as it always had been, but everything just seemed to be getting more…tense all of a sudden. The news got bleaker, people got meaner, and your days got longer and more exhausting. Currently, you were walking home from said work, inwardly cursing yourself for forgetting your umbrella. “You live in bloody London, for Christ’s sake!” You thought to yourself savagely, clutching your purse tightly to your body and power walking through the downpour that had started the instant you had stepped outside.

You reluctantly came to the decision that walking the rest of the way home in such a storm would probably make you ill, and you didn’t think that Kathy, your boss, would be too forgiving if you had to take another sick day. Unbeknownst to you, the moment this thought popped into your head, and before your mind had even moved on to thinking of alternative ways to get home, every car on the street vanished into thin air, as if by magic. You, a simple mortal, would never have noticed it happening, and if you had, you would have forgotten it almost as quickly as it had happened. As it was, you looked around and realized that there would be no taxi to drive you home. You did some more inward cursing.

Now, it is important to note that when miracles are performed, it is not without great disturbance to the world around them. Someone who is well-acquainted with the practice will tell you that the air crackles with what most people will call “static electricity”, and those same people will then make a prediction about the weather—those people are almost always human. The experts—who are very rarely human, or even mortal at all—will also tell you that miracles make the most peculiar sound, like a high-pitched ringing in your ear. They will also tell you that miracles smell and taste faintly of vanilla.

It was at this moment in time that you, completely obliviously, were being subjected to one of the larger miracles that have been performed, one that stretched across time and space. It was this enormous miracle that caused you to look up at the sign for a little shop on the street corner, and read its name for the first time:

“A.Z. FELL AND Co. ANTIQUARIAN AND UNUSUAL BOOKS”

It was such a strange place, because although it seemed old and worn, and the very name of the shop seemed to come straight out of the 18th century, you didn’t recall ever having seen it before in all your years living in Soho. At once, your interest was piqued, and you forgot all about the rain in favor of this bookshop. As you opened the door, met with the twinkling of tiny bells, someone somewhere heaved a great sigh of relief: It had begun.

You, in the meantime, were in your new-found happy place, surrounded by every old book one could ever want. You had been completely wrong about it being small, it seemed to be so much bigger on the inside. Reverently, your fingers brushed against the spines of books that were old enough to be your grandfather, if books could be grandfathers. Your hand stopped on beautifully ornate golden letters, embossed on a red leather cover that begged to be pulled off of the shelf and read. You were about to do just that when a voice startled you out of your almost trance.

You jumped in alarm, snatching your hand away as though the book had burned you, and stumbled back into a warm body, whose hands instinctively caught your arms so that you wouldn’t fall over completely. Your whole body tensed, and you shut your eyes tightly, hoping that you could wish the whole incident away. After a few seconds of silence, you had to admit defeat. The body behind you lowered their hands and stepped away, clearing their throat awkwardly.

“I am very sorry that I frightened you, my dear, Crowley does tell me that I tend to sneak up on people, but you seemed so focused and I didn’t want to interrupt your train of thought, Go—I know that happens to me too often and I—” The man—you’d determined from his voice—stopped himself. In the pause that followed, you slowly turned around to face him. Your breath hitched.

The man—you’d now confirmed—seemed to fit right in with the rest of the shop. His clothes had a very vintage feel to them, and although it was highly unlikely, something in you told you that they were all original. He was not terribly tall, but he wasn’t short, either. He had such a kind face, that was currently frowning in embarrassment. All of this was topped off by some extremely blond curls—so blond in fact that they may as well have been white. Although he would not be considered particularly handsome by most estimates, something about him was drawing you to him like bread to butter.

The pair of you had been standing there for what felt like hours, inspecting each other. It was very odd, and you were very glad that there were no other customers around to see you act so bizarrely. Just when you thought that the silence had passed the point of no return, the man burst out into a dazzling grin and put his hand out between you.

“I’m sorry, miss, where are my manners? I am Aziraphale. What is your name?” You looked down at his hand for a second before grasping it with your own.

“Hullo, Aziraphale, I’m Y/N. It’s your name on the sign, then?” You asked, shaking his hand and then gesturing to the windows. Aziraphale chuckled.

“Oh, dear me, no! No, that is my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather’s name, I only inherited it. This shop has been around much longer, than I have, I’m afraid. Much, much longer.” He smiled his smile at you, but you frowned back at him.

“But I don’t remember this shop being here before, and I’ve lived here all my life!” You protested. At this, Aziraphale looked a bit sheepish, and started to fidget with the chain of his pocket watch.

“I have had to close it down quite a few times in recent years, family issues and all that—”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that—”

“No! I mean, no nothing bad.” Aziraphale’s look turned to something soft and proud. “I’ve recently acquired a Godson, and I’ve been helping to raise him up.” Your heart warmed at how much love you could hear in the man’s voice.

“How nice that must be!” You said, his infectious smile bringing out your own.

“Oh it is! He’s such a lovely boy, very kind and not at all like—” Again, Aziraphale stopped himself. He peered down at you, a strange, unreadable expression on his face. “I mustn’t bore you! I’ve been rambling this whole time, haven’t I? Such terrible manners—”

“I don’t mind,” You interrupted. Shocked, Aziraphale stared at you, seemingly unable to believe what you had said. You grinned at him, placing a hand on his arm. He broke his gaze and looked down at your hand, and then back up at you. “Ramble all you like,”

[btssavedmylifeblr]

I forgot exactly how I worded this ask before Tumblr gobbled it up, but you're really good at writing dialogue that's engaging and natural, do you have any tips on writing good dialogue?

Oh thank you! My ability to write dialogue has improved drastically over the years. My beta reader and I were just reading back my first piece of fiction together and cringing at how truly terrible the dialogue is, so writing dialogue is definitely a skill that I have built up over time, rather than something that came to me naturally. I still have a lot to learn, but I’ll share those tips that have helped me. Some of this may seem obvious or condescending, but they are all things I legitimately did not know before I started doing this so hopefully they are helpful to other people.

Writing the dialogue itself

1. Write the dialogue alone before the rest of the scene. For me, dialogue is the thing that will most frequently pop into my head when I’m just wandering around doing my own thing. Like long drives or showers or walks, Yoongi will just appear in my head with some sarcastic comment. But often it is only snippets and I have to build the rest of the scene around it. So what I do when I first draft a scene with a lot of dialogue is that I write out just the dialogue, kind of similar to a screenplay, where I don’t bother with dialogue tags or describing anything, I’m just writing the words to see if the conversation flows in a way that makes sense. For a scene that I’m struggling with (like the first conversation she has with Yoongi in the greenhouse or the conversation with Namjoon about the pornographic video) I might write three, four, or five different versions of the conversation before I find one that I really like. And only once I have the version that I really like will I go back in and add descriptions and action and dialogue tags and such. 

Here’s an example of some draft dialogue for Void Chapter 6. 👀 (subject to change, it doesn’t really flow yet.) 

2. Imitate / steal from people around you. One of the things that is really nice about fan fiction, is that there are real people who essence you are trying to capture. Listen to the way they talk to each other and the way they talk about themselves. Do writing exercises where you try to imitate it. Run “what would they say if I asked them ____?” scenarios in your head. Write down things you would say to your friends or significant other. There are absolutely things that my characters have said that are word for word things that my husband has said to me. (Specifically Yoongi, Yoongi is a particularly good channeler of husband energy for me. Don’t know why.)

3. Channel your own internal voice. Say you dialogue out loud or (if that is too cringey) have your computer read it out loud to you. If it sounds too ridiculous to say outloud, it probably is. Don’t be afraid to channel whatever specific weird phrasing or language you and friends use into your fic. It’s counterintuitive, but the most specific and unique your dialogue, the more relatable your characters become because they feel like real people. 

4. Embrace things left unsaid. Very few people will actually tell you what they are really thinking at any particular moment. Think carefully about what thoughts your characters might be having and which of those thoughts they would choose to share with the person they are talking to. Probably most of their thoughts they will just keep to themself. Also, people tend to be fairly economical in their speech. They don’t repeat what the other person said very often or discuss things that they think the other person would already know. Names are another thing that we don’t use very often in real life, but that people put into dialogue all the time, even when not necessary.

Formatting dialogue and dialogue tags

1. Break for each character. Anytime either the dialogue or the action switches to a new character, you need to put a paragraph break. 

Wrong - hard to tell who’s speaking and overwhelming for the eye

All the sleep pod doors whoosh open around you. Taehyung, Jungkook, and Jimin spill out with various degrees of confusion and worry on their faces, clustering around you on the floor. Jimin’s still clutching the bloody towel to his nose. “Is she okay?” Jungkook asks.“I’m fine!” You wave your hands in frustration, trying to get them to back off, claustrophobic from being surrounded by these fussing men. “We need to get her to the infirmary.” Yoongi moves toward you, arms reaching for you, but you flinch away. “Back off, Yoongi.” Hoseok places himself between the two of you.  “I’ve got her.” Yoongi’s mouth opens, as if to object, but as he scans Hoseok’s face, he falters. He closes his mouth then retreats.” I need to talk to Namjoon,” you argue, trying to stand. You have to stop the video transmission. But the moment you get your feet under you, the world tilts again. Hoseok intervenes. “Apologies,” he says as he scoops you into his arms. 

Fixed - paragraph break each time the dialogue or action shifts

All the sleep pod doors whoosh open around you. Taehyung, Jungkook, and Jimin spill out with various degrees of confusion and worry on their faces, clustering around you on the floor. Jimin’s still clutching the bloody towel to his nose. (Narrator)

“Is she okay?” Jungkook asks. (Jungkook)

“I’m fine!” You wave your hands in frustration, trying to get them to back off, claustrophobic from being surrounded by these fussing men. (OC)

“We need to get her to the infirmary.” Yoongi moves toward you, arms reaching for you, but you flinch away. (Yoongi)

“Back off, Yoongi.” Hoseok places himself between the two of you.  “I’ve got her.” (Hoseok)

Yoongi’s mouth opens, as if to object, but as he scans Hoseok’s face, he falters. He closes his mouth then retreats. (Yoongi - even though he doesn’t have dialogue here, the action till has switched from Hoseok to him, so it needs a new paragraph)

“I need to talk to Namjoon,” you argue, trying to stand. You have to stop the video transmission. But the moment you get your feet under you, the world tilts again. (OC) 

Hoseok intervenes. “Apologies,” he says as he scoops you into his arms. (Hoseok)

2. Know the difference between a dialogue tag and an action beat and how to format them. I messed this up so much when I was beginning. My beta reader made fun of me mercilessly.

Dialogue tag - A sentence fragment that indicates who is saying something. Ex: He said, she moaned, he pleaded, she whispered, etc. 

When using a dialogue tag, put a comma at the end of the dialogue, then add the dialogue tag and do not capitalize it. 

Correct - “I need to talk to Namjoon,” you argue. 

Incorrect - “I need to talk to Namjoon.” You argue

Action beat - A full sentence that describes what the character is doing while speaking. Ex: He moved toward her. She ran her fingers through her hair. etc.

When using an action beat, put a period at the end of the dialogue and then capitalize the action beat. 

Correct - “I’m fine.” You wave your hands in frustration.

Incorrect - “I’m fine,” you wave your hands in frustration.

More details here. 

3. Said is great. I was always afraid of using said, because I was afraid it was boring, but actually it tends to mostly disappear to your eye when you read it. Try using said and notice how little it bothers you when you read it back. Not using said enough can lead to the problem of everything sounding melodramatic if its all “He groaned. She pleaded. He murmured. She gasped. He shouted.” One of my biggest first draft issues is usually not using said enough and everyone is murmuring like 80% of their dialogue. I have to go back in and purposefully switch things to said or action beats instead. 

4. Often dialogue tags are unnecessary. The purpose of a dialogue tag is to identify who is speaking. If you already know from context clues like paragraph breaks and action beats who is speaking, then you don’t need dialogue tags. 

For example, in this dialogue from Void, I only use one dialogue tag in the whole conversation, because I wanted to be specific about how he was saying something. But we know whose talking because there are only two people in the room. 

Well there's the issue of sex." He wrinkles his nose in distaste that you've finally made him say it and starts cleaning his glasses again.

"Are you saying the men you hired for this mission aren't professionals?"

"No, no, they are stellar candidates."

"Are you saying I'm not a professional?"

"No, no..." He shakes his head as beads of sweat break out on his forehead. "But even when everyone is a professional, one can still get distracted by attraction."

"Are you saying men can't be attracted to other men?" You lean forward, seeing the corner you can back him into before he does.

"No," he sputters. "But none of our men are..."

"Have you asked them that?"

"No! No!" His eyes widen. "Of course not! That would be illegal."

Look how awkward and clunky it gets if I add in all the dialogue tags that I could.

Well there's the issue of sex,” he says. He wrinkles his nose in distaste that you've finally made him say it and starts cleaning his glasses again.

"Are you saying the men you hired for this mission aren't professionals?" you ask.

"No, no, they are stellar candidates,” he says.

"Are you saying I'm not a professional?" you ask.

"No, no..." he argues. He shakes his head as beads of sweat break out on his forehead. "But even when everyone is a professional, one can still get distracted by attraction,” he continues.

"Are you saying men can't be attracted to other men?” you ask. You lean forward, seeing the corner you can back him into before he does.

"No," he sputters. "But none of our men are," he says. 

"Have you asked them that?" you ask.

"No! No!" he declares. His eyes widen. "Of course not! That would be illegal,” he gasps.

That’s all the advice I have today! I hope it was helpful! Good luck with your writing!

[self-proclaimed-chaotic-good]

Somewhere Only We Know | Cassian Andor x Reader (one-shot)

A/N: Took a break from writing Riz-related fics until I have inspiration again. Plus, my last fic wasn’t showing in tags which raised my stress levels. Here’s a one-shot for our grumpy space captain, since he’s getting his own series. Love me some quality quiet time doing nothing together moments. This is basically me spilling ideas out.

Words: 3,206

Warning: fluffiness, slow-burn, and hints of depression? Excessive use of commas.

Summary: You’re a mechanic for the resistance who has a massive crush on a certain captain and everyone knows it but him. One restless night leads to many outings of simple stargazing with said captain.

Cassian Andor, Captain of the Rogue One squadron and veteran rebel intelligence officer. He was an intimidating man, and he wasn’t even a commander yet. His serious and, sometimes, grumpy disposition left many tensed around him. The only ones that felt comfortable enough to even joke and smile around him was his squadron members. Jyn would often tease him every time he frowned then somehow end up in an argument with K2-SO, Cassian’s loyal and sassy reprogrammed imperial droid, with Bodhi trying to mediate them.

You had finally left the mechanic workshop, taking a break from repairing helper droids to replenish yourself at the cantina. Grabbing a tray and a cup of water, you scanned the area for a free seat. Jyn spotted you and waved you down, pointing at the open seat next to Cassian with a mischievous smirk. You shook your head, opting to eat at the workshop instead. Jyn gave you a disapproving look, but later smiled as someone tapped your shoulder. You turned and saw Chirrut and Baze blocking your way.

“You can’t keep hiding from him,” Chirrut said, tapping your leg with his cane.

Baze gave you a sympathetic smile, grabbing your shoulders and turning you around, practically marching you over to the table with the rest of the Rogue One squad. Jyn grinned triumphantly as Chirrut and Baze occupied the other two seats, leaving the one next to Cassian empty. Said man sipped at his caf, oblivious to the situation until he had tilted his head back and saw you sit down next to him. He gave you a nod of acknowledgement, then went back to his food.

You stood rigged in your spot, lifting a fork and stiffly ate in silence while Jyn rolled her eyes. You had a major crush on the man beside you and it seemed that everyone in his squadron knew of it except the man himself. It started on the first time you were assigned to fix K2. Cassian made sure that the droid was away from the line of fire, mostly leaving him on the ship so they could get away easily. On one of their missions, K2 had no choice but to leave the ship to aid Cassian despite the captain’s protests. While Cassian sustained a few cuts and bruises, K2’s arm was damaged while they tried to get away. All of the other mechanics were busy making repairs around the base, leaving you, the newbie, to take over.

Cassian was hesitant in leaving his droid to your care, but he didn’t have any other choice. K2-SO began to spout statistics about the success rate of your repair job as you grabbed the necessary tools, the odds being against you. With your back towards them, you puffed out your cheeks and made your resolve. You were new, but you specialized in droids, having tinkered with them when you were little. Those statistics were inaccurate if they knew little about you and were drawn from first impressions.

You had quickly got to work, examining the damage and replacing burned and severed wires, like surgery. Cassian stood back quietly, his arms crossed as he watch you frown while you worked. In record timing, you managed to repair the arm, stepping back to let him test the reflexes. The corner of Cassian’s lips turned up slightly as K2 deemed the arm good as new. He uncrossed his arms and walked over to you.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice and proximity made you hold you breath. “Given how fast and efficient you are, maybe I should just come to you for repairs.”

You flushed at the compliment. “Are you alright, miss? Your heart rate seemed to have elevated,” K2-SO said. You cleared your throat, brushing his comment off.

“I’m Cassian Andor,” the captain introduced himself, offering his hand.

“(Y/n) (Y/l/n),” you said, taking his rough callused hand and shaking it.

He gave an amused smirk when you held it too long as you stared at him. You dropped his hand like it stung, missing the way his smirk faltered at your reaction. Clearing your throat again, you turned to the mess on your workbench.

“I, uh, have some more repairs to do today,” you said.

Cassian nodded. “I understand. Thank you again for helping us.”

You shrugged dismissively, turning your back towards them again. “It’s my job,” you said over your shoulder, busying yourself with organizing your tools.

As soon as you heard them leave, you let out a long breath. Cassian Andor would not want to be in a relationship during war time, and he especially would not want to be in a relationship with a newbie mechanic. Even if he got to know you and find out who you really were, there was still no chance. You decided to push your feelings for him aside and focused on more work, but it seemed to make it even more obvious to others.

When the nightmare that was lunch break had finished, you made a beeline straight to your workshop. You loved working there. Although it was quiet and many would call it isolating, it was peaceful to you. You were free to focus on whatever task you had on hand, free to sort out your thoughts alone, and free to feel comfortable about yourself.

As you finished up your repairs on a cleaning droid, there was a knock at the door. Without breaking your concentration, you told them to come in, sealing the last metal plate up. Whoever the person was, they waited patiently as you finished up your work. It was only until you’ve set the droid aside did you look up.

“Oh!” You quickly stood up. “Captain, you should have said something. Is there anything I could help you with?”

Cassian shook his head at the title. “No need to call me captain, (Y/n). I was just here to tell you that I’m leaving on another mission soon. Maybe do a once over on my ship before we leave?”

You nodded. “I can do that.” When he didn’t leave right away, you asked, “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“Well, Jyn also wanted me to come over here to check on you. She said you weren’t feeling well, but you seemed to be fine,” he said.

“Oh, why would she say that?” you asked, your voice going slightly higher, precisely knowing why she did. You cleared your throat, a nervous habit. “You didn’t have to check up on me.”

“I wanted to… I mean, in case I need you to fix something, I needed to know if you were in the right condition to do so.”

“Oh, um, thank you. I can stop by later tomorrow to check on it.” Cassian stiffly nodded, giving a small smile of gratitude before leaving the workshop.  

You leaned back in your creaky chair, watching him leave. It’s just a stupid crush, you tell yourself. You shouldn’t be making a big deal about it. If your mother was here, she would have been scolding you right now. Not only did you settle as a mechanic, you had a crush on a rebel spy. Those were not anywhere near her standards. But it’s just a crush, you repeated, you’ll get over it.

It was yet another night where you couldn’t sleep. Tossing and turning, adjusting the covers and the temperature of the room. It was no use. You flung the blankets off of you and grabbed the nearest sweatpants and jacket, putting them on along with your boots before heading out of the living quarters. You found yourself at the hangar, walking idly down the strip with both hands in your pockets.

Back home, you weren’t able to see this many stars at night. There was always lights from the city that made the stars dim in comparison, which caused you to sneak out a lot. Half of the time, you were found out until they eventually allowed you under the conditions of bringing two palace guards. Being the youngest child as well, you weren’t given much responsibilities in the first place, but you still had an image to uphold. They weren’t here, though. They’re somewhere in an ally colony after the city got attacked by the empire. They didn’t know you were here, in fact. After a fight that led your mother to kick you out in a fit of rage, you had set out to find the resistance.

And here you were, finally able to see the stars in all their brilliance.

“I thought I’d be the only one here,” said a familiar voice out of nowhere, making you jump. You turned around and saw Cassian leaning against a wall, watching you closely.

“Cap- I mean, Cassian. What are you doing up?” you asked him.

He tilted his head up, gesturing to the sky. “When I can’t sleep, I come out here to watch the sky. It’s really beautiful tonight.” He pushed himself off of the wall and walked towards you. “And why are you here?”

“I couldn’t sleep, either.”

Cassian thought for a moment, his frown deepening as he looked away from you. You took that time to scan his features, the way his stubble lined his jaw, how his dark hair was ruffled from restless nights, dark circles slightly forming under his brown eyes. Your heart seized for a moment as his eyes turned back to you.

“There’s a hill on the outskirts of the base,” he said, “It’s a good place to relax while stargazing. Would you like to see?”

You gaped like a fish, mulling over your response. You were rarely completely alone with him, since the usual times you’ve seen each other was at the cantina, the control center, and the hangar. During those times, Cassian would usually be with his squad or just K2-SO. Couple seconds or minutes running in to each other or in passing didn’t really counted as being alone. A little stargazing wouldn’t hurt.

“Lead the way.”

The two of you walked in silence as he took you to the destination. When you finally reached the hill, there were still no conversations. It wasn’t awkward at all, unlike many occasions where you felt uneasy, as if the space had to be filled with something or else their presence would be unfulfilling. As if you rather be alone than with their company. Small talk, which you avoid, was unfortunately the go-to to fill that space.

It wasn’t like that with Cassian. There was something there filling that space, and it was enough that no words needed to be said. You’d lay on the soft cool grass next to him, resting your head on your arm and just trace the patterns in the sky, watching the stars blink back. When one of you felt sleeping finally settling, you’d walk back to the living quarters together, then separate to your respective rooms. Since then, your meetings were a routine, where nothing was said, but it was peaceful and fulfilling.

Jyn had noticed a change in your mood as she’d see you walking with an almost spring to your step on your way to the cantina every morning. She even noticed how you and Cassian would exchange a smile before going about your business. K2-SO had also made a comment on Cassian’s behavior that made him seem “more pleasant to be around for others”.

One day, she invited you over to their table again. Unlike last time, you went over without a thought, sitting next to Cassian with ease. He greeted you with a smile, revealing his dimples, then turned to sip his caf. Jyn and Bodhi exchanged a questionable look, then saw how close the two of you were sitting, your elbows practically bumping each other. You supposed it was out of habit during your outings with him and how the proximity grew closer and closer.

Bodhi chose to be the one to break the silence. “I heard there was an ally ship that arrived early this morning,” he said, “there were guards and everything. Apparently, they’re in close relations with Princess Leia Organa.”

Jyn wiggled her eyebrows. “Ooh, possibly royalty,” she said, pretending to be impressed.

You stiffened at the mention of guards and royalty, your fork clattering to the table. Everyone at the table turned to you. Jyn was about to voice her concern when there was a change in the atmosphere of the cantina, the buzzing became hushing. Your eyes flickered over to the door, seeing two familiar guards outfitted in their casual uniform, scanning the room. You stood abruptly, ignoring the table as you rushed out through the other door.

The only place that you could think of retreating to was the hill. You broke into a run once you reached the hangar, not wanting to bump into anyone at the moment. You ignored the familiar sleek ship that sat in the hangar, ignored the other mechanics that questioned your behavior, and just ran. You collapsed on your knees once you reached the hill, rolling over onto your back, and allowed your heart to calm down.

What business did the royal guards have on a rebel base? You didn’t even think when you saw them, you just ran. It’s so like you, your older brothers and sisters would say. Running away from responsibilities, they would say. They’d continuously guilt trip you over something you had no control over and release their emotions on you. It reached to the point where you honestly wished that you had not existed if your very existence caused so many people such grief and hindrance. You were unwanted at home.

You had no natural skills in politics, or proper etiquette, or the patience to be compliant when faced with the ridiculous and the unbearable of individuals that you had to mingle with. You were the black sheep of the family, tinkering with the house droids and sneaking out to the market for metal parts. You had no place at home. Often, you wondered if it should be considered a home at all. So what exactly was considered home?

“I was hoping I would find you here,” you heard Cassian from behind you. His voice alone made you relax. He lied down next to you, resting both hands behind his heads as he watched the clouds roll by.

You didn’t reply. You felt like he knew, not everything, but that it was a long story. One that you weren’t sure you were ready to share with anyone. He didn’t press on why you rushed out or why you were here. He just laid there next to you without a word. You turned your head, your eyes tracing the outline of his face. He looked peaceful. Throughout all of those nights that you met with him, you barely looked to the of you, too enamored by the stars, too absorbed by quiet air and the gentle breeze. Seeing him like that was an even more admirable view.

His eyes left the pale blue sky and landed on your (e/c) eyes. He shifted, lying on his side so he could brush a loose strand of your hair aside. His fingers lingered on your cheek, making them comfortably warm, and yet his brown eyes were even warmer as they remained on you. It was if time stopped around the two of you.

He suddenly let out a chuckle, a smile spreading across his face, instantly making him look younger. “Hi,” he said softly, as if seeing you for the first time.

“Hi,” you said, just as gently, as he rested his palm on your cheek.

Maybe it was your first time seeing him, too. Actually seeing him. It wasn’t just a crush anymore. You were no longer nervous around him or shy. You were comfortable with him, as if it grounded you. You couldn’t imagine what he had gone through while being dedicated to the resistance for so long, especially after him and his squadron survived Scarif. For him to show this hill to you, this soft side to you, like a secret that only the two of you knew, made you feel honored and special.

It took a moment before he spoke again. “I’ve been with the rebellion since I was six,” he said, “and I’ve done things, many that kept me up at night, all for the rebellion. When we risked our lives to retrieve the death star plans on Scarif… I honestly thought that it would be our last mission. I’ve taken many dangerous missions before, but that was the closest to death I have ever been and all I could do was submit to my fate and hope that the rebellion retrieved the plans, that someone was out there listening. The others… they have restless nights, too, but they seemed to be coping better than I am because they’re actually open to each other.” He sighed. “I felt like I shouldn’t say anything because I’m the captain and I needed to lead them and be strong, but…”

You grabbed his hand as he trailed off, rubbing your thumb along his knuckles. “You should go talk to them,” you said softly, afraid that if you spoke any louder, the spell casted between you two would break. “Being vulnerable isn’t being weak. It takes a lot of strength to allow your walls to fall around other people. I had to learn that on my own.”

“Yes… yes, you’re right.” He leaned in closer so your foreheads were touching. “What happened back at the cantina?”

“No one but the higher-ups know where I’m from,” you started, “I was practically disowned by my mother because I didn’t want to marry this ambassador that I’ve never met, just so our families’ political ties could grow stronger. I didn’t want any part of that and apparently it was my only purpose in life, to be married off as a means to gain political influence. Turning it down meant turning away from the family. So… I left. Didn’t hear much from them since, until now.”

Cassian didn’t speak for a while, causing your nerves to go wild. What does he think of you now? Will he treat you differently? Cassian wouldn’t be like that, would he? He was more sensible than that.

“So, you’re royalty?” he asked slowly, pulling away.

You kept a tight hold of his hand. “Was royalty,�� you corrected.

“Do you know what business they have here? Are they looking for you?” There was a hint of worry in his voice as he asked, his body supported up by his right forearm.

“I don’t know,” you said a sigh, your throat constricting a little. “I don’t want to go.”

Cassian looked into yours eyes, as if searching for something, before taking his other hand and rest it next to your head, his body shielding you from the sun. He leaned down slowly, his eyes flickering down to your lips, then back at your eyes as if asking permission. You met him half way, pulling him down with you as your lips molded with his.

Cassian broke away for air, his nose brushing against yours. “Then I won’t let them take you.”

[taecheeks]

Annual Writing Self Evaluation 2018

I wasn’t tagged in this but I wanted to do it so here we go

ALL FICS MUST HAVE POSTED ON AO3 IN 2018

1. Number of stories (including drabbles) posted to AO3: 10

2. Word count posted for the year: 774,856 lakdjflkjfladklf

3. List of works published this year (in order of posting): (my wips are in order of when I last updated, not when I first posted)

Through Time I Found You (I feel like I posted this 9837473 years ago, I can’t believe it’s been less than a year since i posted my last ziam fic)

Enticing

play with me

Greedy

Wandering

media naranja

Kinktober ‘18

Maybe

Home For Christmas

Nodus Tollens

4. Fandoms I wrote for: One Direction/Zayn, BTS

5. Pairings: Liam Payne/Zayn Malik, Jeon Jungkook/Kim Taehyung, Park Jimin/Min Yoongi, Park Jimin/Min Yoongi/Jung Hoseok, Kim Namjoon/Kim Seokjin, and Kinktober has multiple pairings.

6. Story with the most:

Kudos: Nodus Tollens and then media naranja (this one was the fastest to get kudos, so I’m adding it)

Bookmarks: the same ^^

Comments: Nodus Tollens and then Through Time I Found You

7. Work I’m most proud of (and why): Nodus Tollens because it’s a lot different than what I’m used to writing and it was very difficult plot wise and characterization wise, but I’m happy with the way it turned out. There’s things that need to be fixed because I kind of just wrote and let the plot develop itself, and I was sure people wouldn’t like the plot twists. I also love my characters, I’m so attached to them. It’s also my longest fic and I don’t feel as if it’s dragging on, so I’m happy about that.

Also, media naranja. I wrote this fic as a break from the angst in nodus tollens and I was attempting to write a crack fic, and just a stupid/dirty overall fic and I actually got really great feedback for it. It made me really happy write it and really happy to see it do well. 

I didn’t think Through Time I Found You was last year but since it was, I’m going to mention that one too. That was SO hard for me to write because of the dialogue and because it took place in the 18th century. But my writing really improved because of that fic (and my amazing beta for that fic). 

8. Work I’m least proud of (and why): None really. I post a lot of pwps that probably could be better, but there’s none I would say I’m not proud of. 

9. A favorite excerpt of your writing: ugh this is hard did you see the WC from this year kldjalkfjda. Here’s something from NT I was really excited to share:

“The new living room is a little off putting. Taehyung’s definition of homey means a little messy - his tattered couch a big eye sore in the middle of the room but after a few nights cuddling with Taehyung on it, he’s starting to fall in love with it.

Taehyung’s a little messy too, their relationship or whatever it can be called a little messy, but Jeongguk’s past the point of falling in love with it.”

And then here’s one from Wandering bc that fic is my baby and sope are platonic soulmate brothers and I need them to be happy and finish the story okay:

Admittedly, Yoongi has never understood the phrase “seeing red” when angered.

He understands now.

It is a volcano inside of him, moments away from erupting and destroying everything around him. The only thing keeping him from yelling at the group of people in the waiting room, who never fucking called him, and the doctors who waste his time, is Hoseok.

The shallow breathing doesn’t calm his anger, but it keeps the tremble in his limbs at bay. The flinch of Hoseok’s fingers against his own makes it difficult not to squeeze on tight in a hope of waking him up.

It is too difficult to look at him bandaged up, his face so swollen and bruised he is almost unrecognizable. So Yoongi rests his cheek on their clasped hands where he sits beside him and stares at the monitor instead. He’s thankful they took the breathing tube from him, it made it too difficult to look at him.

“Never thought I’d wake up next to that face.”

Yoongi rubs his sleep ridden eyes against the soft sheets. There is a slight quirk to Hoseok’s lips as he makes an attempt at squeezing Yoongi’s hand.

“Savor the moment, it won’t happen again,” Yoongi mumbles as he sits up. It is still difficult to look at him, but Hoseok doesn’t look his way either so he can divert his eyes for the time being. “Special circumstances.”

Hoseok attempts to laugh, but he ends up groaning instead. “Don’t make me laugh. I feel like a bucket of shit.”

“You look it,” says Yoongi, but the joke doesn’t feel genuine. He knows he should call the doctor, but there is a flicker of fear in his chest at the idea of leaving his side.

“What’s the damage?”

The doctors had told him the moment he stepped inside of the room, but Yoongi couldn’t focus on anything but the sight before him and the rage he felt at whoever did this.

“They broke your face. A um - in your stomach. Stitches, lots of stitches.”

A tightness takes over his throat and he swallows it down as he finally moves to the door to call the nurse. He can’t say it. Stabbed .

“I don’t remember much. It was dark. Nari, is she okay?”

Yoongi’s heart drops into his stomach as he sits by the bed again. “Your parents are out of state. But mine are here if you need them.”

This seems like a better thing to tell Hoseok, but it makes his chest ache.

Assholes, they always have been.

“I told them I was your brother so they would get off my ass.”

Hoseok snorts. “Idiots. You’re too ugly to be my brother.”

10. Share or describe a favorite review you received:

Ah, I received so many great reviews this year. I am quite lucky.  I think my favorite recently was the latest on Nodus Tollens, which says: “ WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK” x 3934 lmao

11. A time when writing was really, really hard: This year has been pretty good for writing. The last couple years, I’ve been struggling. But this year, not so much. There were times where the plot was a bit heavy and difficult and I couldn’t figure out how to get it to where I wanted, or I realized I messed up a timeline and I had to work around that, but overall, pretty good. 

12. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you: Um Sope in Wandering. Like, it was supposed to focus on the romantic ships in that fic but it focuses on the platonic ones more. And sope a lot. I really, really enjoy their relationship in that fic.

Also, Bobby in Nodus Tollens. He’s a minor character in the fic, but I also get a lot of feedback about it. He’s a, bad guy but with a tortured past so you feel for him and realize he’s not really a bad guy. That trope, I’m protective of him and I’m sad when I write his scenes.

13. How did you grow as a writer this year: Specifically? Not sure. I got better at commas lmao. I��ve tested myself and wrote things I hadn’t before. I went from really dark to comical stories, I wrote different kinks. I wrote characters as bad when they aren’t in real life, which I normally don’t like doing. I’m not usually a big fan of writing characters OOC, but I’ve gotten more comfortable if it’s appropriate for the story I’m writing. I put a lot of my own self into stories, I wrote about something very traumatic that happened to me in one - something that I haven’t even talked about really. 

14. How do you hope to grow next year: I can be a bit repetitive within my writing, I am working on this and I hope I improve. (Like for example, in the fic I’m about to post in a few days, I wrote JK saying he’s suffering and dying like 343 times lmao.) I also really suck at outlining and planning out fics in advance, which hasn’t been a huge issue but it’s offered me some roadblocks that I need to focus on bettering.

15. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc): Oh man, well I’ve read some really amazing fics and the writing was so beautiful that it offered me a lot of motivation. @strawberrysuga is always a huge support for me and my writing, even though ambra offers me like 9897 au ideas when I’m trying to focus on the 8979 ones I’ve already written. There’s a lot of people on twitter who come to me between updates and though I write for myself, seeing their feedback and their love and encouragement has been such a good influence on me. 

16. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year: Oh yeah, every one of my fics has part of me in it whether it’s a character based on someone I know, or an event in my life. Wandering has a lot of it; the police scene, Taehyung hating cheese (me), it takes place in NE where I grew up. One of my fics has a scene based on me and my girlfriend. Umm so yeah a lot lol

17. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers: So, this year was a good year for me and I was nervous because I was in a new fandom. As much as I’ve done well, I’ve never really gotten negative comments on my fics before until this year. And none of them were about my writing or my storyline, but unnecessary/rude comments. Like someone didn’t like how often a side ship showed up. Things like that. They bothered me, not necessarily because I took it personal, but because I can’t believe people can be so rude and think it’s okay to be that way lol. I think this will always continue to happen, I think it’s best to ignore these comments and try to focus on the good ones. Because the bad ones stand out, but there were very few compared to the good ones - but the bad always stands out more than the good. And it’s important not to focus on the bad. 

18. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year: I’m actually writing a fic right now I’m very excited to post. It was supposed to be a ‘I’ve never kissed anyone, please teach me’ type fic, but it’s not quite that anymore haha. There’s a lot of frog references because Jungkook’s an animal biology major who loves amphibians lakjldfkjda 

19. Tag some writers whose answers you’d like to read: since I stole this, you can steal this from me and say I tagged you mwah

[closetofanxiety]

Beyond Wrestling: Americanrana 18

I got home after 1 a.m. today and woke up at 6 a.m. Then it was a full day of home improvement stuff. I’m tired. I’ve got ice on my bad foot. But I have some thoughts and impressions about the hottest US independent wrestling show of, uh, the month of July, at least. 

Big crowd: This was Beyond’s biggest live gate of all time, and at the same time the most-watched live stream in the young life of Powerbomb TV, AND the single event responsible for more new subscribers than anything else they’ve shown so far. At the venue, a Polish-American club in Worcester with oil paintings of the Old Country on the walls, people were berserk for almost everything that happened during the night. I don’t know how it came across on TV (or whatever, screen, I’m talking about watching it on a screen), but people were loud and excitable. Dan Barry got the biggest reaction Dan Barry has possibly ever had. People reacted to the surprise appearance of Anthony Green  like he was Mike Bailey, and they reacted to the surprise appearance of Mike Quackenbush like he was Steve Austin. It’s so much fun to be with a crowd of people who are just going nuts for professional wrestling.

Final appearance: Matt Riddle had what is almost certainly his last-ever Beyond Wrestling match, getting pinned by Nick Fuckin Gage during a tag match that pitted Gage and Matt Tremont (the New H8 Club) against Riddle and Filthy Tom Lawlor. It’s wild to think that a year ago he was putting his undefeated streak on the line in the main event at Americanrana 17, and this year he was in a mid-card tag match where he ate a pin. He’s headed for big things, though. Gage is great as the fan favorite, thanking people for willing him onto victory, and looking genuinely delighted when he got the pin. Awkward moment: the crowd, excited at the announcement that the winning team was now called “the New H8 Club,” started chanting “C-Z-Dub! C-Z-Dub!” despite Gage having gone over to bitter rivals GCW and Tremont wrestling his final CZW match on Saturday night. Just chant “Nick Fuckin Gage! Nick Fuckin Gage!” Speaking of which ...

Working blue: This was the sweariest Beyond Wrestling show I can remember for some time. They had pregame interviewers with Wrestling Social Media Personality Alicia Atout in front of a fancy Beyond/Powerbomb backdrop, and Janela and ring announcer Rich Palladino, of all people, kept using the word “fuck” like a comma. Kids in the room, gentlemen! 

Unpopular Opinion #1: I like intergender wrestling a lot, but in order for it to become a normal part of pro wrestling, promotions and wrestlers have to stop loudly drawing attention to the fact that THEY AREN’T AFRAID TO HAVE INTERGENDER WRESTLING, DAMN IT. The opening match on the show was a terrifically fun four-on-four pitting Team Pazuzu against “Team WWR”: Kimber Lee, Jordynne Grace, Mia Yim, and Skylar. It was fun and crazy, as you’d expect from that cast of characters, and Skylar did a good job of keeping up with wrestlers who are much more experienced and established than she is. But then after the match, Chris Dickinson cut a promo about how HE RESPECTS THESE GIRLS SO GODDAMN MUCH AND INTERGENDER WRESTLING IS HERE TO STAY. Good! I like that! But the more you act like it’s some remarkable anomaly, the more people are going to treat it like that. It’s just another variety of match, like tag team wrestling.

Oh, also: There was a GREAT moment in the match where Dickinson was about to give Jordynne Grace a Pazuzu Bomb, but she was saved by Kimber Lee, who then stared Dickinson down. This was a callback to the spot in Beyond years ago where Dickinson waffled Lee with a chair and then hit her with a crazy Pazuzu Bomb in a clip that went viral and gave both of them some not-entirely-wanted exposure to the wider world. The crowd, happily, recognized this immediately and went APESHIT. I loved it!

Loco spotfests: There was an announced four-way tag match with Team Tremendous, the Gentlemen’s Club, the Beaver Boys, and the recently renamed Massage Force. There was also an unannounced Chikara showcase, with Solo Darling, Fire Ant, someone working a “Dasher Hatfield’s kid” gimmick, and Quack himself against a Dungeon of Doom-esque cast of characters. Also Travis Huckabee. I honestly groaned when I heard “Chikara showcase,” but they tore down the house. Quackenbush may be a guy who talks like Darril and wants to turn wrestling into TED Talk fodder, but he’s one of the most important US indie wrestlers of all time, and I had never seen him wrestle in person before. At one point, a sea creature or maybe the Gimp or someone picked Quackenbush up by his feet and heaved him backwards over the rope, and he sailed higher and farther than any person I’ve ever seen launched out of a wrestling ring. It was just a hugely fun match, and the four-way tag managed to top it. There was no “storytelling” or “psychology” in either match, and honestly, that’s fine for a big-spectacle show like Americanrana. Just have a bunch of talented people come out and do stuff they don’t normally do in a show, and go wild.

The plot thickens: The big news from the four-way tag is Dan Barry’s betrayal of beloved partner Bill Carr (there was a loud, enthusiastic chant of “Bill Carr fucks! Bill Carr fucks!” after the big man launched himself through the ropes. “Oh my God, I love it! I love it, you guys!” he yelled back. He is like a big happy golden retriever and it’s impossible to think negatively about him). Betrayals don’t always work on the indie level, and I’ve seen my share of partners turning on partners that are greeted with shrugs by the crowd, but people went NUTS after Barry screwed over Carr. A louder, more sustained negative reaction than I’ve ever heard in Beyond. Should be a hot feud! In further plot twists, MJF was injured and couldn’t wrestle Gresham in their blowoff, so Trent was drafted as a surprise Dream Team member. The match ended in a DQ and Gresham roughed up Stokely Hathaway while MFJ watched helplessly from the outside. THIS SETTLED NOTHING. Presumably. 

Unpopular Opinion #2: I think PCO’s run as the TV veteran who has inexplicably become an indie darling is nearing its conclusion. I also think that run does not sit as well on PCO’s shoulders as it would Gangrel. It should be Gangrel out there, getting the big paydays and the crazy receptions from crowds. PCO does not have a lot in his toolbox, if I’m being honest. He had a sloppy, overlong match with Brian Cage that was full of blown spots and awkward pauses. Let’s all focus on Gangrel from now on. 

A new favorite: I’ve done a total 180 on “Hot Sauce” Tracy Williams, who used to bore me to distraction. I really like him now. I think it’s because I’ve heard him on commentary a bunch, and he reminds me of friends who lived in squats and punk houses in the 1990s but who now live in Brooklyn and have respectable jobs in the low six figures, but who are still capable of smashing a bottle in the face of a Nazi skinhead. 

Mayhem: What can I say about the main event, a no-ropes barbed wire death match between David Starr and Joey Janela, to settle a feud that’s been simmering on and off for years? It was extremely violent and bloody. It lasted 22 minutes but felt like 10. Starr won, and cut an absolutely searing promo afterward, calling Janela “a glorified stuntman” who only came to prominence because someone else made goofy Internet videos about him; seriously, it’s one of the best promos I’ve heard an indie wrestler give. Bile and bitterness from a man covered in his own blood; there would be no Triple H Handshake of Respect between these two gladiators.

Grace notes: This was the most efficiently run Americanrana I’ve ever attended. The doors were supposed to open at 6:30, and they opened EARLY. An indie show! This was good, but it trapped one of my friends outside, because he had gone to a bar, assuming it would take forever to get inside the building. I mean, he made it in eventually, he just had to wait at the back of the line ... There was a nice shoutout to Dominki Dijakovicokowiczogonov, gone but not forgotten from Beyond: during his match with AR Fox, Anthony Greene did the Feast Your Eyes and hit Dijakulakovich’s poses while the crowd chanted “Feast Your Eyes! Feast Your Eyes!” ... Chuck Taylor hit a Rainmaker during the four-way tag match and screamed “This one’s for you, Little Kazu!,” which is a reference to an ongoing Twitter joke that I’m almost ashamed to have recognized ... I bought a hat from David Starr and we talked about the need for national healthcare, which is a conversation topic that wouldn’t work with most wrestlers .... I don’t know why or how they do it, but Americanrana really feels special. Everyone seems to raise their game for the show, and the fans are really in a holiday mood. It’s not a show I ever want to miss ... The crowd went from skepticism over the Chikara wrestlers - one guy grunted, “Fuckin’ Vince Russo gimmicks” when the bad guys came out - to joyous acceptance, capped when the same guy yelled at the sea monster character, “Look at this big green bastard! How’s he able to breathe on land?” ... One of my favorite parts of the day was sitting in the bar downstairs while they broke down the ring and set up the barbed wire. Just seeing a bunch of the wrestlers relaxing and enjoying themselves, having a (non-alcoholic) drink with my friend Mike, enjoying the air conditioning on a summer night: this was a good night ... after the show, we stopped at a service plaza on the Masss Pike to get some unhealthy snacks and use the bathroom, and on our way in we passed Solo Darling. “Great match tonight,” we said. “Thank you!” she said. On our way out, we passed a much less happy Solo Darling as she walked over to the counter to give the McDonald’s people hell. “I distinctly said no cheese on ...” she began, as we hurried out. 

Final thought: There was a 20 or 25 minute break before the main event, where they set up the barbed wire and all that. Mike and I went downstairs to the bar while Mark stayed up in the hall. The first person we saw in the bar, sitting by himself at one end, was David Starr. He was hunched over a glass of water and a shot glass and staring into the middle distance, at nothing in particular. In a few minutes, he was going to walk upstairs and wrestle the most violent match of his career in front of 500 people and you could see the concern on his face as he went over the possibilities: barbed wire, steel chairs, staple guns, cinder blocks, baseball bats. One spot that goes a little sideways and someone leaves the building in an ambulance. That glimpse of David Starr brooding put the whole night - put all of wrestling, really - into perspective. This wasn’t an angle, this wasn’t a promo, he wasn’t in character: this was a man working up the courage to do something reckless and potentially dangerous because he wanted to do it more than anything in the world. It was the look of a man who has willingly taken a great weight onto his shoulders, as many of us have, or will have to one day. It was a wordless rejoinder to all those snide comments about how wrestling is fake: looking at David Starr’s face, sitting alone and being left alone by his friends and peers, his staring eyes showing exactly what he was prepared to do, one thing was clear to anyone who was paying attention - nothing is more real than wrestling.

[allisonilluminated]

The Seven Sins of Fanfiction

Hey all,

This blog is primarily focused on helping newer writers (and maybe some older ones) improve their fanfiction and increase their views.  Since that’s the case, it’s important to understand exactly what not to do when you’re writing.

These are the worst things you can do while you’re writing.  I can guarantee everyone reading this post has done at least three of them, and probably all in some shape of form.  This is the sort of thing that makes you want to click away immediately, that you cringe at when it’s in the first paragraph or laugh at how bad it is.  These things that make you stop reading other stories, just think about it for a moment.  What if fewer people are reading your own work because you’re making the same mistakes?

Yeah.  If you want to improve, you gotta know what you’re doing wrong.  Number Seven is the least worst, then the list descends to Number One, the worst thing you can do in fanfiction.

Note: This is a subjective list.  There are people who disagree with some of these points (especially the non-grammar ones), so it’s important to remember that these are the things I find most degrading to the quality of the story being written.  As a writer, you have the creative liberty to write whatever you want.

#7 – Bad Romance

“Wo-o-o-o-o, o-o-o-o, o-o-ah, caught in a bad romance fanfiction but it’s the only 100k fic for my OTP so I’m like contractually obligated to read it.” - Lady Gaga, mostly

We’ve all been here.  You know that moment when two characters meet, then suddenly decide to kiss, and the next thing you know they’re screwing on the patio with some kinky ass BDSM shit.  What about those cringe fics where suddenly Harry is spouting some creepy possessive stuff like “my only” or “softest light of my life” to twelve year old Ginny.  You know what I’m talking about.

Good romance is an art.  It’s about flawed characters (later) coming together in a beautifully intimate way (later) to make something even more beautiful.  There is so much bad romance on FFN and AO3 that it just blows my mind.

Giving tips would take an entire post, so here’s a good article on the absolute basics you need to write a good romance: https://www.nownovel.com/blog/romance-writing-mistakes/

#6 – Bad Dialogue Tags

“No!” he howled.

“Yes,” she growled angrily.

She retorted snarkily, “Well, screw you.”

“Fuck you too,” he scowled sadly, before gratingly mumbling “I still love you though.”

Alternatively:

“No!” “Yes.”  “Well, screw you.”  “Fuck you too.  I still love you though.”

There’s a glorious word in this social construct we call English, and it’s “said.”  Use it.

You don’t need a fancy word for every tag.  You don’t need a fancy word for almost all tags.  Eighty percent of your tags should be said, exclaimed, and asked, and more of said than the others.  Maybe a whispered or a yelled for some flavor.

Adverbs are your enemies.  I struggle with this, but you should use them extremely sparingly.

On the flipside, if your reader doesn’t know who’s talking, your dialogue is meaningless to them.  Also, use line breaks every time there is a new speaker.

The trick is finding some happy medium between the two examples.  A handful of fancy tags, a lot of said, and if there are two people talking back and forth you don’t even need to tag every sentence.

#5 – Bad Messaging

I don’t want to put down an example for this one, because I think writers feel liberated to write some really awful shit in fanfiction because it’s “not a serious medium” or “it’s the internet, I have free speech.”  Let me say this right now:

Stories that make rape a positive thing are not okay.  Stories that portray suicide in a glorified light are not okay.  Stories that show slavery, or torture, or all of the other horrendous things human beings do to each other in a romanticized or glorified manner are not okay.

I don’t care if it’s your fetish.  I don’t care, it’s just not okay to write about these things in a positive light.  The only reason this is so high on this list is because these stories aren’t as common as the rest, and are mostly marked M/Explicit so you can avoid them.

#4 – Overdescription

Hi my name is Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way and I have long ebony black hair (that’s how I got my name) with purple streaks and red tips that reaches my mid-back and icy blue eyes like limpid tears and a lot of people tell me I look like Amy Lee (AN: if u don’t know who she is get da hell out of here!). [[I’m not related to Gerard Way but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie. I’m a vampire but my teeth are straight and white. I have pale white skin. I’m also a witch, and I go to a magic school called Hogwarts in England where I’m in the seventh year (I’m seventeen). I’m a goth (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly black. I love Hot Topic and I buy all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing a black corset with matching lace around it and a black leather miniskirt, pink fishnets and black combat boots. I was wearing black lipstick, white foundation, black eyeliner and red eye shadow – My Immortal

Oh boy.

Writers, let me introduce you to this wonderful thing called your profile.  Assuming you aren’t drowning in copypastas, this is the perfect place for your character descriptions.  Alternatively, have you heard of Tumblr? Literally, stick them anywhere except the middle of your story, and I can guarantee you the readers that actually care will find them if you mention them in your A/N.

Show, don’t tell is one of the fundamental principles of writing. When you’re describing a character, you probably don’t need more than three adjectives and a one sentence description of their outfit. Yes, that applies even if your character has a special non canon outfit.  If we must know, work the details into the story. Info-dumping description is telling, and is one of the worst world building and characterization mistakes you can make.  Period.

#3 – Epithets

The blond girl walked to the door, and started as a burly man opened it.  “May I help you?”

“Yes, I’m here to get a consultation,” the graying businessman said as he ran a hand through his oily hair.

The youthful therapist nodded as she shut the door behind him. Rummaging on her desk, she asked, “Why are you here?”

“Well,” said the jaded economist to the buxom woman.  “This author thinks they’re being clever by not giving out names, but they’re ruining this story.”

The best way to get someone to leave your story is epithets.  

Epithets do not create mystery.  Epithets are not a good substitute for proper nouns.  Epithets will not make a clever opening, or add variety to your dialogue.

Epithets will ruin your story, and should not be used.

They come in varying degrees of horror.

The noun.  You might be able to get away with saying just “the woman” or “the child” under certain circumstances. This is almost an excusable offence.

The noun with one adjective.  This is already unacceptable. If you though you were going to solve Sin #4 by doing this, you’re digging yourself an even deeper hole.

The noun with one modified adjective.  Because they can’t just be sexy, they have to be shockingly sexy.

The noun with multiple adjectives.  This is automatically overdescription on top of being a horrible thing to subject another person to.

The noun followed by a relative clause.  Because there’s always a way to make it worse.  “The girl who was now holding his hand” is absolutely disgusting, and so is “The girl that was sitting across from her” or especially “the girl she knew had a chocolate bar somewhere in her pocket.

The noun followed by a relative clause with adjectives.  Put it together and what have you got?

Compound Epithets.  Oh. My.  God.  This deserves its own sin.  Even if your character has blue hair, you should never ever ever call them a bluenette.  Ever.  Ever ever ever. AAAAAAAAH!

The author has made her point.

#2 – Bad Grammar

I find bad grammar extremely agitating, mostly because there are a lot of great tools and easy fixes to solve the problems.  Most word processors have a built in spell checker, and a lot of them check for grammar as well.  If you need an alternative, grammarly.com has a good free version that’ll catch a lot of mistakes.  Of course, proofreading your work before posting is always a great idea.  Here’s a quick list of some of the most common grammar issues you should be on the lookout for:

A new paragraph for a new idea.

A new paragraph for a new speaker.

Dialogue formatting

Periods

Commas

Run on sentences

Using line breaks

Spelling

Capitalizing starts of sentences

Capitalizing proper nouns

Choosing CONSISTENT capitalization for canon terms (Pokemon vs pokemon, for example)

Repeated words.

Sentence fragments

Tense

#1 – Bad Characterization

“What?” you’re probably asking yourself right now.  “How is bad characterization possibly worse than poor grammar?  Than epithets?”

Allow me to explain.

When an author writes a story, a good story, they are creating characters who act like people.  They have wants, needs, hates, motives, and a concept of who they are, even if they’re only fictional.  The author gives them life, spirit, a spark that keeps you reading and wanting to learn more about them.

That sense of identity is what makes them real to us.  Why you binge a show on Netflix, or read a novel in one night.  Reading is a connection with these characters on a deeper level than you might realize, and this connection brings them to life.

Take that away, and your story is dead.

Your gray OOC Gary Stu overpowered Ravenclaw Harry who grew up with Snape and has a goblin half brother AU is not a story about Harry Potter.  It’s a story about an OC named Harry Potter, and Harry loses any integrity he had as a character in Rowling’s books.

That’s why there are fics with horrible grammar and massive following, alongside fics with incredible grammar and sentence construction but no followings.  Unless you maintain a basic level of your character’s identity, the essence of what makes them empathetic, you’re not writing about that character.  This is the worst sin, because even with all of the others in play, if there is good characterization you can still create an incredible story.

Just by fixing these seven problems, your fic can instantly jump from bad/meh to incredible in the way people perceive it.  Hopefully this list can help you determine things to either go back and revise or work on for future chapters.  When have you committed one of the seven sins?  What other sins do people make all the time in their writings?

Thank you to all of the amazing people who have followed, Allie

Support Me:  Fanfiction.net - Archives of our Own 

[ibelieveinahappilyeverafter]

I wasn’t quite sure how to do this, but then I was struck by inspiration. Also I based Jazz’s psychology professor off of my own. Dr Carpenter is the best.

Wondering what that blocked out part is? It’s a secret phrase that’s unlocked when you support my Patreon! If you send me a prompt with that secret phrase then your drabble has a chance of being done as soon as I can get to it - usually that same day! Want to see the drabbles I’ve done so far? Just check out the Patreon Drabbles tag! I also give away these secret code words every week or so! So many chances to see what YOU want written! 

::

“I was a powerful assassin once.” Andrew had been feared. Andrew Riter had once been the Priest of Death, the most terrifying ghost story in all of France in his time. “I have history books documenting my missions.” There were still people out there who told stories of the Priest that had been sent to collect the souls of the damned. He had been feared and yet… And yet…

“Mhm, that’s nice. What’s the answer to number seven?” And yet here he was being used as a ‘study buddy’ for a twenty-one-year-old’s psychology exam. How far the mighty had fallen, truly.

“The uncontrolled stimulus is the customer complaints and the uncontrolled response is the anxiety to those complaints.”

“Dammit. It’s worded strangely! That’s the only reason I’ve having such trouble with this one!” Jasmine Fenton threw down her practice test papers before crossing her arms and sulking with an expression that matched her brother’s perfectly.

“You know, we could have all had a nice day out walking the mall, but no. Instead we’re stuck in your dorm room and helping you study for an exam.” Ah, at least Danny was suffering with him, that was the important part of this. “Andy, I’m bored.”  

“Tell that to your sister.” Andrew pulled a stack of flashcards over, looking up at the derisive noise Jasmine made. “What? What’s wrong with flashcards?”

“Nothing, they’re just not very helpful. Dr. Carpenter always says that testing is the best way to learn new information and-”

“I don’t care what psychology says because there is nothing wrong with flashcards! I passed nearly all my classes using flashcards in my time.” There was a snort from Danny that Andrew quickly silenced by pushing the teen off the bed.

“Mhm. Maybe if you tested more you could have passed them all.” Jasmine gave a bright, cheery smile and Andrew was sure he had a very undignified expression on his face judging by Danny’s snorting and laughing.

“I- You- I’m still older than you!” Yes. That- Great. Great comeback, Riter. Saying something like that was certain to show off your maturity. “I’ve been through this all before, I know what going through college is like-”

“Yeah, but you focused on secondary education, right? You probably didn’t have any psychology classes past the basic 101 and, well, let’s be honest, Andrew. A lot has changed since the 80s. We even have these things called cellphones now.” Whoever said that Jasmine Fenton was a mature and responsible adult was a filthy liar.

“I thought you were supposed to be the adult of us, Jasmine.” Andrew threw a flashcard down at a still laughing Danny, pleased when the corner hit him right in the center of his forehead. “You misuse commas.”

“You’re too flowery in your writing and never seem to use the word said as a descriptor.” Did she just- She had! How dare- Wait.

“You’ve read my writing?” As an answer, Jasmine pointed to Danny and, ah, right. Danny. The teen who had read his words dozens of times over even before he knew who the Ghostwriter was. He had such a sweet mate. “Flashcards can still be helpful.”

“I never said they weren’t, I just said that testing is more helpful.” Not as helpful as flashcards, but he had little hope of convincing her of that. It was impossible to change a Fenton’s mind once they had decided something. “Number ten?”

“Weren’t you just on seven?” Looking back to his notes, Andrew flipped through them before slowly nodding. “Your teacher is a fan of example learning, isn’t she?”

“Example learning?” Glancing to Danny, the teen was looking at him curiously, eager to learn, and, really… How was Andrew ever supposed to resist?

“I’m sure it has a more technical term, but I was taught that it was called example learning - or teaching, depending on how you view it. It’s basically using real world examples and stories to better explain a concept to a class or an individual. You know how I use the ghosts and their lives to explain ghostly concepts to you?”

“Ooh.” His smart little mate was adorable. “That’s actually a really great way to learn, though, isn’t it?”

“It both is and isn’t,” Andrew admitted, flipping through some of the notes to find the needed information for question ten. “While it can be helpful for adding context to what you’re trying to teach, it can also confuse the student if they’re not sure what it is they’re supposed to be learning, especially on tests. The examples you use are very important and even then sometimes it’s better to stick with a technical definition. Punishment, by the way.”

“Knew it!” Jasmine beamed, marking something down on her recovered test papers. “It’s a bit hard to tell the difference between that and negative reinforcement.”

“Only at the beginning. Remember that your professor said this was the most difficult chapter to learn conceptually.”

“That just means it’s a challenge.” At the far too familiar words and expression Andrew found he couldn’t help but to laugh. “What?”

“It’s sometimes very easy to tell you two are siblings.” The identical pouts only proved his point, truly. “You know I’m right.”

“Hush,” Jasmine scolded, turning in her chair towards Danny. “Hey, baby brother, weren’t you going to grab some snacks? Bring some back?”

“Only if you pay.” At the card that was tossed his way, Danny was up and out the door so fast Andrew was half certain that he had used teleportation to do so.

“Now, Andrew, talk to your big sister.” There were so many things wrong with that Andrew wasn’t even sure where to begin. “You’ve been around Danny too long. It’s obvious there’s something on your mind.”

“First of all, never say that again. Ever.” ‘Big sister’. “Second, I’ll always be older than you no matter what. Third, what on earth makes you think I want to talk to you about something?” Nevermind that he did, he just wanted to know how she always knew. “Clockwork warned you, didn’t he?”

“You really think he would misuse his powers over time-”

“Yes.” Suppressing a smile at Jasmine’s laughter, Andrew watched her before looking down to the flashcards and flipping through them. “It’s nothing important, really.”

“Oh? Proposing to my little brother is ‘nothing important’?” Hm, it had suddenly just gotten really hot in here. How strange. Andrew should look into that - global warming, probably. Definitely global warming. “You’re blushing and not denying anything.”

“I- Yes, well, you see… Mm.” Terrifying ghost story of France, huh? So much for that visage. Aa, he really was bad at all of this. “Is this the part where I ask you for your blessing?” Feeling the bed dip down, Andrew chanced a glance to where Jazz had sat down beside him.

“I think you did that a few years ago when you started dating him. Happen to remember what I told you then?” Jeez, that had been back when Danny was sixteen- Something he still tried not to put too much thought into. “Come on, it was important sister wisdom.”

“I have a good memory, Jasmine, but I don’t have perfect recall like my brother.” At the elbow to his side, Andrew hid a laugh and instead sighed dramatically. “Something about making him happy?”

“Close.” Jasmine’s arm linked with his, Andrew noticing she was smiling softly. Warmly. “I said that as long as you two are happy together then I’ll always support you. Are you happy?”

“Ridiculously so.” Andrew finally felt some tension leave his shoulders that he hadn’t even realized was there. “I… He’s Danny.” That was all he really needed to say, wasn’t it?

“Yeah, he is.” This was why he and Jasmine had gotten on so brilliantly. She understood just as much as he did how special Danny was - and being half-ghost had nothing to do with it. “You’ve also been playing with something in your pocket for near the entire time you’ve been in the room. Also, Randy gave me a heads up.”

“I knew it.” Randy had been tormenting him ever since he had accidentally seen the ring Andrew had bought. “He has no concept of privacy!”

“Like most big brothers, then.” Hmph. “You know we all approve and that Danny will say yes in a second. Why are you so nervous that you’re asking me for advice?”

“I… I want it to be perfect. He deserves to have it be perfect.” At the laugh he heard, Andrew looked up and felt his heart somewhere near the core of the earth. He knew he was a bit sentimental, but…

“Oh, Andrew, I’m not- I’m not laughing at you, just… This is Danny. Everything you do is perfect in his eyes.” It- Well- Not… She might have had a point. A small one. “Andrew, Danny loves you. He’s been in love with you since you two started those library study dates.”

“They weren’t dates at the time,” Andrew cleared his throat, rubbing at one of his cheeks that was no doubt a bright purple. “I… He’s had it so hard, Jasmine, and I just…” For as many words as he knew and as many ways as he could put them together Andrew had yet to find a way to truly describe Danny and the way he had changed him and all that he wished he could give back to the teen.  

“Hey, keep going like this and you’re going to psych yourself out,” Jasmine patted at his hand, head moving to lay on his shoulder. “Andrew, you could propose to him while lying on the couch at Vidya and he would remember that moment for the rest of his life with nothing but joy and happiness.”

“You know, this is supposed to be a lot more dramatic. I’m supposed to be sobbing and a hopeless wreck as I tear my hair out and you scream at me for stealing your precious little brother and-”

“Oh? So as dramatic as when you and Danny got together?” That had Andrew falling silent, memories of that night so long ago fluttering into his mind. They… There had been a thunderstorm and Danny had been crying and ended up confessing and it had felt so… So…

“Oh, Andrew…” Jasmine tucked herself closer, voice quiet, amused, and so warm. “You two are natural together. That’s why this conversation feels so easy and why you’re stressing out to begin with. It’s because it’s natural, right? You probably bought the ring before you even realized you wanted to propose.” That… She… “It’s stressful because you can’t believe it feels so right. It’s natural. You two were just… You were meant to be.”

“Hey, okay, so they didn’t have those chips you like, so instead I got… Why is Andy crying what did you do oh my god Jazz I was gone for ten minutes.” Was he crying? Andrew brought a hand up to his cheek- Oh, so he was.

“We were having a very serious talk about psychology.” Jasmine made no move to get up, Andrew a little grateful for the support as he tried to get himself together. “If any of those snacks have cheese on them I’m kicking you out of my room.”

“Kick me out and I keep all this sugar to myself.” Danny skipped over in a way that made Andrew certain that he was flying at points. It ended with him tightly snuggled up against Andrew’s side, wiping away the tears that he had missed. “Pretty good bonding day?”

“A rather interesting one, I suppose.” Andrew wrapped an arm around both of the Fenton siblings and hugged them close, not wanting to be anywhere else in the world than where he was there and then.

Hm. The box in his pocket didn’t feel as heavy.