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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

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Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 11

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language Warnings: Nope! Notes: Here we are, a breath away from the end. This features not one, but FOUR songs written by myself. If you only choose to listen to one of them, listen to the final one (Cradle of Heaven), as it is a duet I wrote specifically for this fanfiction, as something that the reader wrote to play together with Daniela. The links to these songs will be within the fanfiction itself, at relevant times. Past Chapters: Pt. 1: Nocturne, Pt. 2: Overture, Pt. 3: Accelerando, Pt. 4: Toccata, Pt. 5: Poco a Poco, Pt. 6: Elegy, Pt. 7: Harmony, Pt. 8: Obbligato, Pt. 9: Berceuse, Pt. 10b: Hymn AMAB

Chapter 11: Cadence

(Cadence: Two chords that mark the end of a song)

The stage is set, the lights are dimmed, your heart pounds within your chest, and the world is yours. Soon, it will be Daniela’s. She is right by your side, as ever, hand gently taking hold of your own. There’s a silent reassurance in her grip, a reminder that the two of you have overcome a plethora of challenges. A promise that this will be no different. Both of you take a deep breath, in sync, before exchanging a quick kiss. All of your hard work has been leading up to the coming moments. Although you are beyond confident in your lover’s abilities, there is a shadow of doubt in the back of your mind. Not for her sake, but surrounding the expectations held by her mother, the standard against which you would be measured.

“Come hell or high water, Songbird, I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise,” Daniela whispers, squeezing your hand again, eyes unblinking as they stare into yours. “You’ve made every right choice, worked harder than anyone I know, and there is nothing more I can ask of you… except another kiss to celebrate afterwards, that is.” Giggling in response gives you the moment you need to relax, nerves fading into the background of your mind. “Now let’s put on a show the likes of which my mother has never seen, mhmm?”

THREE HOURS EARLIER:

“Here, you can borrow my brooch. It’s been in the family for generations, since before we even came to the village, passed down starting with an ancestor who crafted it himself, from materials he scavenged while fleeing his home country,” Daphne rambles, helping you attach the jewelry to your shirt. Thankfully, her hands do not tremble nearly as much as yours have been for the past hour. “I’m more than sure that Lady Daniela will tell you this much, but I feel the need to repeat just how good you look right now. I don’t know where the hell they’ve been hiding this version of our uniform, but damn do I wish I could get one for my next date with Ygritte. Seriously, if you can get one in my size, please do me that favor.”

“Anything for my best friend. Especially after all the times you’ve saved my ass these past few months,” you reply, pausing to give her shoulder an affectionate pat. If not for her constant interference running, someone would have certainly found out about your relationship with Daniela. “Speaking of that… of my life being on the line, I mean… no matter what happens today, no matter what Lady Dimitrescu decides, take care of yourself. You’ve gambled with your own blood to keep me safe, but what I’ve done, what I’ve risked, those were my choices. My consequences. The last thing I’d ever want is for you to pay for them, somehow.”

Rolling her eyes, Daphne gives you a playful shove to the chest, before smoothing out the fabric of your dress uniform. Now she refuses to meet your gaze, a familiar mistiness taking over her brown eyes.

“Nobody around here is stupid enough to think you’ll die today. You managed to get Lady Daniela, of all people, to stay focused long enough to learn some absolutely beautiful pieces of music. You have proved, time and time again, that you are a talented musician, teacher, and ‘servant’. So get out there and kick some metaphorical ass, my friend, because you are ready,” she finally says, offering you what seems to be a handshake. But as soon as your hand meets hers, she’s pulling you in for a hug, holding you tight for a solid minute. When at last you part, you give her what may very well be the last smile she’d ever see gracing your lips.

---------------------------

A hand’s edge against xer forehead, parallel to the ground, kept perfectly flat. From anyone else, it would be mockery. From xer? Honest salute, solidarity in a traditional form, accompanied by a sharp-toothed grin. Mimicking the expression, you wave at Ava, glad to see that xe would be awake for your concert. After your first night with your girlfriend, Daphne had helped arrange for someone to be your “cover story” for sleeping outside of your usual quarters. With Daniela’s input (and jealousy), only one candidate had revealed themselves, in the form of a (conveniently) mute butler with an inconsistent schedule, love of mischief, and somehow the respect of the Dimitrescu family. Now, xe appeared ready to escort you to the location of your trial by fire.

“Are you sure our mutual friend won’t be upset to see the two of us together?” You teased, knowing full well that Ava was one of the only people that Daniela trusted 100% around you. In response, xe gives an exaggerated shrug, then quickly links xer arm with your own. Together you march onwards to your destiny, amused by the way xe practically skipped down the hallway. Maybe there was a certain wisdom to xer shenanigans, a carefree philosophy that encouraged laughter in the face of death, and you embraced the thought with a smile.

Before long, however, the two of you encounter another unlikely pair headed towards the same destination: Lady Cassandra, looking somewhat embarrassed, with an unfamiliar maiden at her side. Their hands are clutching each other desperately, although neither of them dares to look at the other. Instead they both watch you closely from where they’ve paused in the corridor. Oddly unfazed, Ava gives them a short bow of acknowledgement, earning xer a brief nod from Cassandra. Seeming eager to move on, she addresses you quickly before gesturing for you to keep walking.

“Good luck. Don’t fuck this up for Daniela, or I’ll never hear the end of it,” she growls, doing her best to downplay her obvious concern. Wanting to let her keep up with her facade, you merely give a nod as you resume walking towards the concert stage. Soft footsteps behind you let you know that the strange pair are accompanying you. Still walking alongside you, Ava repeatedly glances behind you, putting out xer hands in the shape of a heart, giggling all the while. If you didn’t know any better, you would almost assume that xe wanted to get hit by Cassandra.

“Ava, please calm down. If you’re not careful, she’ll throw something at you. If she does that, you’ll probably dodge, and then I’ll probably end up getting hit, and then I’ll miss the concert, Lady Dimitrescu will kill me as punishment, Daniela will be sad and whiny about it, and none of you will have any peace for, like, a month. Three weeks, bare mims,” you tease, nudging xer in the ribs. Emphasizing a pout, xe sends one last look at Cassandra and her ‘friend’ (whose hand she was still holding onto like a lifeline), mouthing words you couldn’t parse. Based on the way Cassandra groans, it was something ridiculously cheesy. Regardless, xe behaves the rest of the way there…

ONE MINUTE TO SHOWTIME:

“I love you, Firefly, and I know that you’re going to do absolutely amazing out there. I’m so proud of you,” you murmur, pressing a feather-light kiss to Daniela’s cheek. As dearly as you wish to stay behind the curtain, in her arms, you know that the show was inevitable. With one last nod to your beloved, you part the fabric shielding you, stepping into the spotlight. Imaginary crowds grow hushed at your appearance, a sea of faces greeting you warmly. In truth, there are but five members in this audience, each gazing upon you with veiled interest. Donning you best presentation persona, you set this final act in motion. “Lady Dimitrescu, Lady Cassandra, Lady Bela, and Mx. Caldwell, it brings me great pleasure to present to you, on this day, a concert performed by your own Lady Daniela. For three months now I have acted as her instructor, and these three months have been, perhaps, the most rewarding of my entire life. I could not possibly be any more proud of her than I already am. Now, without further ado… let us begin!”

Stepping to the side, a tug of a rope has the curtains parting entirely, revealing your beloved, waiting ready at the piano. All at once your audience (including Cassandra’s partner, acting as a mere servant in the background) sits up with wide smiles. They look Daniela over, taking in the sight of her fanciest dress, and the way her eyes light up with joy. By the time her fingers begin dancing away at the keys, there is not a single ounce of anxiety in your entire soul. This first song is a relic from your past, a representation of an abandoned idea, yet she plays it like a celebration. It’s fast, hits hard, a bold take right out of the gate. Admittedly, it is also somewhat short. Nonetheless, it serves its purpose, igniting a spark of excitement in those present. Once the song ends, Daniela is surprised by the intensity of her family’s applause. In the back of her mind, she trembles with excitement, knowing that the best was yet to come.

Riding this wave of pride, she immediately settles into the next song, something slower but far grander. Affection thrums inside your chest as you watch your pupil perfectly execute another piece. You can only imagine what her mother must be feeling, to see just how far her daughter has come in such a short amount of time. A quick glance in Alcina’s direction reveals the barest hints towards her being impressed. For now that was enough to satisfy you. Soon enough her face would twist in surprise, as the second song ended, and a new face steps up onto the stage: Lady Bela. Wordlessly she retrieves her violin from the back of the stage, then turns to the front with a mischievous smile.

“Now, a duet! Presenting the ever-talented Lady Bela, to join Lady Daniela for a rendition of an original song, dubbed ‘Northern Lights’. Enjoy!” You call out, before once more taking your place at the side. While Daniela did not need you to count her in for her solo performances, this feels ever so slightly more important, and as such you do your best to conduct for the duration of the song. If either of the performers need it, they hide it well. Honestly, you weren’t sure if your girlfriend had looked your way even a single time so far. ‘Twas incredible to witness her. Akin to a siren, near glowing, taking to the stage as if born to grace its center. Even with Bela working her own magic, Daniela is ever the star. Together they weave a lovely song, notes rising high into the air, swirling around an enchanted audience.

When it ends, both performers give a bow, as if the entire affair had come to a close. Without hinting at what was to come, you switch places with the eldest Dimitrescu daughter. A deep breath rattles your ribcage as you find your center, reaching out to take Daniela’s hand, the two of you raising your arms upward in a display of union. For the first time this evening, Lady Alcina narrows her eyes in what feels like disapproval. But you pay her no mind. Instead you sit alongside your beloved, quietly settling into your practiced position.

There is no introduction for this song. No announcement, no showmanship, nor even a countdown into the symphony. Simply, like exhaling a breath, the two of you start to play. Your phrases echo hers, and vice versa, calling and answering, accompanying all the while, natural as anything holy in the wild. ‘Tis the second shortest song of the night, only long enough to showcase the degree of your partnership with Daniela. As the song crescendos into an ending, you manage to meet the gaze of your employer. Perhaps it is merely an illusion of hope, or a reflection of lights above, but you swear you see tears in her eyes.

“Outstanding, incredible,” she praises, rising to her feet alongside her other daughters, clapping all the while. Once again you rise to your feet, hand clasped with Daniela’s, bowing as deeply as you can manage. Before you can even process what’s happening, your girlfriend is being pulled away from you, swept up into the arms of her mother. Desperation digs like a knife into your heart, as you ache to celebrate with her, but you remain ever in the guise of a professional. “You did amazing, my dear. I cannot begin to describe how proud I am.” The family gathers around each other, buzzing with affection fit to make the hardest of hearts melt. You are left on the outside, awkwardly waiting, without a hint of acknowledgment.

Even if this concert was a measure of your skill as a teacher, Lady Dimitrescu had never bothered to consider you more than another servant. This night was about Daniela. About your secret girlfriend, the brightest star in all the skies. That is not something that bothers you, nor does it surprise you. All that makes you wish to weep is the desire to kiss her. To sweep her into your arms, with celebratory kisses, singing her name as a praise to higher powers. In the end, it takes several minutes for Daniela to pull away enough to move back to you, and even then she cannot give you the reaction she yearns for.

“I’ll come by to talk to you tonight, I promise,” she whispers, as she gives you the weakest hug you have ever felt. Then she is returning to her family, clinging to her mother with a massive grin. Soon enough you are left alone on stage, quiet surrounding you, mixed feelings gnawing at the pit of your stomach. Something feels… wrong. You cannot put a name to it. No one has hinted to you what your beloved has planned, for none but her even have a clue. As soon as she is alone with her mother, as soon as she has the smallest sliver of an opportunity, she knows what she must do. “Mother… we need to talk. I... I have a confession to make.”

#daniela dimitrescu x reader #daniela dimitrescu #resident evil: village #re8 village #avaskian caldwell #cliffhanger #sorry folks #not beta read

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buzzcutlip · 3 years

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The virus and quaranteening have made us do unthinkable things. Here I am, posting a very self-indulgent piece. I wrote it purely for my own entertainment, then I read @wyn-dixie ‘s posts, had a chat with her, and she’s actually helped me to not overthink fanfiction and to publish the story. It might brighten up someone’s day after all :) So here’s one for the lovely O! Please if you don’t like this sort of real person x reader stories, then don’t read it.

The Kiss Pedro P*scal x you

You tilt your head down to peer at Donkey; his coat tickles. You rub your nose sleepily. The late afternoon light is coming to the room through the cream-coloured curtains. The sofa is soft and the blanket is cocooning your body perfectly. You feel comfortable and groggy, ready to fall asleep again but fighting it.

When you look up, Pedro’s brown eyes are trained to your face. You don’t know what to do with that. He’s wearing a plan gray t-shirt with no logos and jersey shorts. And he'd gone out like that, you almost scoff. As usual, his overgrown hair is a mess. Pedro doesn’t deny to you anymore that he knows how to style it.

“He’s a good sleeping partner, isn’t he?” Pedro says, crouching down next to the sofa, getting into your immediate proximity. Before you have a chance to say something back, Donkey’s ears twitch and he lifts up his head.

Pedro lets out a quiet laugh, stroking his head that’s popping out from under the blanket. Donkey licks his hand lovingly, then jumps down to the floor in a second

Without the dog, the atmosphere changes to heavier right away.

“I bought some strawberries and apples,” Pedro says, glancing over his shoulder, probably to the kitchen area. You nod, not knowing what to reply. This is his apartment.

He shuffles on his feet awkwardly, and you can’t believe that a grown up man can get this self-conscious. You don’t know Pedro like this. Well, not really.

“I’m sorry for before.” The situation is ridiculous. Him, standing by the sofa, looking as a stranger at his own place. You, just having woken up from napping on his sofa. “It’s fine. I’m sorry too.” You keep the words carefully neutral. You are not lying. “I shouldn’t have left like that.” “You needed space.” “I should have said something.” “I whish you had,” you admit, looking down at the blanket, picking up at the loose strings coming off of it. You don’t want to cry, but you feel how heavy the moment is. You are not used to having these talks. Normally it’s all jokes and laughs. You are good friends. If sometimes you think of his hands on you in different ways than throwing you into the swimming pool or tickling you while watching a serious movie, then it’s your own problem. Pedro crouches down again, and you want to point out that Donkey is not here anymore, but this time he reaches for you, laying his hand softly on the crown of your head, his thumb resting on the top of your forehead. He strokes you gently, in the most intimate manner. Your breath hitches in your chest. You don’t do this either. You are affectionate but not like this; actions heavy with maybes and ifs. “I- ,”you breath out before cutting yourself off, not really knowing what you want to say. He’s still looking at you, and his lovely brown eyes are soft and searching. “Pedro,” you say, getting up on your elbow. There’s hair stuck to the side of your face, and before you have a chance to unstuck it from your cheek, he does it for you. Your eyes flutter shut of a moment, heart hammering. “What are you doing?” you whisper. This is not an accident, and you are not reading too much to Pedro’s actions. This is simply not how you behave around each other normally. With a bold move, you take his large hand into yours, squeezing his fingers that had been in your hair just seconds ago. You can hear Donkey drinking from his bowl in the kitchen, and faint noises from the street below. Otherwise it’s quiet; the time is still. To lighten up the situation, you reach and grip his stubbly chin lightly, huffing a nervous laugh. He parts his lips on a soft exhale, the air hitting your own face, and your eyes are forced to flick there. When you dare to glance up at Pedro, he’s looking at your own mouth. Face flushing instantly, you fight not to squirm with unease, completely lost for words. “Can I kiss you?” Pedro says, finally looking up from your lips and meeting your eyes. You bite your lip. Oh god. “Yes.” Pedro shuffles, kneeling up, while you fully sit up. The moves bring your faces much closer, and you can’t believe that you’ve lived up to this moment. One that you had been scared to ever dream about. But you have. More so since the night of the stupid “spin the bottle” game. Boldly, you lean in first, impatient to snap the tension that’s grown around you. You can smell his Loewe cologne and the familiar laundry detergent, as you place a very light kiss on his right cheek. It’s not so about the mouth on mouth action - it’s about the anticipation, the closeness, the way how the bond between you is breaking and being put together again in a slightly different way. Pedro lifts up your connected hands and kisses the top your knuckles, while you are watching him to do so. Then he laces your fingers together. That crease between his brows appears, as if linking your hands was some kind of a scientific equation; as if you were one. Your fingertips slide against each others, and you wonder if you will ever have the chance to map the veins and knuckles with your tongue. Pedro’s breating has grown deeper, you can tell from the way his chest expanses and deflates, brushing against your upper arm. You take in his broad shoulders and his long throat. It looks vulnerable this close up, the thin skin flushed and soft. The next kiss lands there, just to the left from his Adam’s apple. You linger there this time, putting off meeting his eyes again, having him look at you and see what’s showing on your face. You are not an actress with the ability to guard your expression. The skin of his neck is hot against your lips, and after two or three pecks, you open your mouth slightly to get more taste. Pedro inhales sharply, and you literally feel the sound that revibrates through his throat. He tilts his head and kisses your temple, your hairline. It’s sweet and innocent and perfect, being so close to Pedro is also intoxicating. Your touches grow bolder and you stroke his arms and lay a hand on his chest, his heart hammering under it. Pedro tucks your hair behind your ears, brushes his thumbs against your jaw and ear lobes. He stalls there, mouthing softly against the ear shell. Thousands of goosebumps break out everywhere on your body, the hairs on your arms erecting. You accidentally let out a helpless sound, and you can feel Pedro smile against your cheek in return. “Are we kissing yet?” he asks, voice innocent but laced with something darker. You hum, not daring to speak out loud. His mouth is so close. “I just-” you murmur, careful not to brush your lips against his cheek. It would be so easy. “I want to postpone the first kiss a bit,” you explain. “You know, there’s only one first kiss. And I’ve been waiting long enough. I want to stretch out the anticipation.” This was way too honest, you realise. On the other side - Pedro wants to kiss you too. There’s nothing to hide anymore, and you might as well take a full advantage of the situation. And stating the truth - that’s just very you. “Right,” Pedro nods. “I get it.” He is a good boy, not moving an inch, letting you take the lead and do as you please. You kiss the corner of his jaw and then closer to his chin, up his cheek on the point of his cheek bones. His stubble is rough against your lips but you don’t mind. Pedro lets out a content sigh and hangs his head low, letting you work. You tilt his face with a gentle hand to his jaw, turning it and repeating your motions. Kiss to the jaw, kiss to the cheek. One kiss to the corner of Pedro’s mouth and another one even closer. His hand is warm when he lays it to your bare forearm. That’s when you decide to press a single peck to his mouth. Then once more. A dry kiss. When you open your eyes and lean back, Pedro is looking at you. “Good?” you check with a little smile, and he smiles back. You both lean in this time, trading a few longer, close-mouthed kisses. You concentrate on the texture of Pedro’s lips under yours. They are a bit chapped and very very warm, burning against yours. Cupping his face, you run the tips of your fingers through his beard. Just the fact that you CAN is - liberating. His skin smells different from his clothes, that you are used to. More like him; like flesh and sweat and moisturizer. “Will you let me taste you?” It’s Pedro who speaks up now. His words catch you by a surprise. Used to his sweet moderation, this is unexpected, making your cheeks heat up. After a short nod, Pedro palms your cheek and brings your face close to his. This time you part your lips when your mouths meet, catching the corner of Pedro’s bottom lip between yours. It takes only a few seconds before you coordinate your moves. You touch your tongue to Pedro’s instinctivelly, as soon as you feel it against your top lip. The tiny point of a connection sends a powerful spark through your body. You can’t contain the sharp intake of breath as you kiss carefully, your free hand slipping in Pedro’s soft curls. Your other hand is still holding his, palms sweaty. The taste of him is intoxicating. Better than anything else. As the kiss deepens, you pull him on the sofa by his shoulders. Chuckling, Pedro goes willingly and you catch his eyes in the process. His neck is flushed, matching the colour of your cheeks, his lips already look swollen. Or you want them to be. You accommodate his narrow hips between your thighs, the woolen blanket creating an additional barrier between your groins. Pedro leans down and kisses under your jaw. “Sweet,” he murmurs.

#my fic #what if there's more soon??#if i tag pedro pascal but do the star in his name in the text #is it gonna help at all?#pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal

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writing-prompts-for-friends · 4 years

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Notes from Stephen King’s “On Writing” 07: The Revision Process

Next, King walks us through his revision process. He makes it clear that this method is not the only method. It is merely a method.

How Many Drafts?

“For me, the answer has always been two drafts and a polish (with the advent of word-processing technology, my polishes have become closer to a third draft).”

King admits that this number of drafts is not the golden rule. Kurt Vonnegut rewrote each page of his novels until he got them exactly the way he wanted them. This meant that when the manuscript was finished, the book was finished. (I certainly am not that big of a perfectionist, nor am I that patient lol.)

For beginner writers in particular, King offers the following advice:

“Let me urge that you take your story through at least two drafts; the one you do with the study door closed and the one you do with it open.

“This first draft--the All-Story Draft--should be written with no help (or interference) from anyone else. There may come a point when you want to show what you’re doing to a close friend because you’re proud of what you’re doing or because you’re doubtful about it. My best advice is to resist this impulse. Keep the pressure on; don’t lower it by exposing what you’ve written to the doubt, the praise, or even the well-meaning questions of someone from the Outside World. Let your hope of success (and your fear of failure) carry you on, difficult as that can be. There’ll be time to show off what you’ve done when you finish...but even after finishing I think you must be cautious and give yourself a chance to think while the story is still like a field of freshly fallen snow, absent of any tracks save your own.”

Basically, King just wants you to get it all out onto the paper, with no external forces influencing you (for better or for worse). Just get that first draft out, and then open it up for closer examination both to yourself and others.

Let It Breathe and Then Dig In!

Okay, so you finished writing the first draft! Celebrate! Rejoice! Maybe cry!

...And then throw that manuscript into a drawer, lock it up tight, and don’t look at it for a minimum of six weeks. And in the meantime, do something totally unrelated to what you wrote. Get into knitting. Write a short story that is nothing like what you just finished. It’s consumed you for months now--so give your mind and imagination some time to reset and chill.

King recommends a minimum of six weeks, but even longer is okay. Resist all temptation to peek at it. And once the six weeks have passed, do the following:

“Take your manuscript out of the drawer. If it looks like an alien relic bought at a junk-shop or a yard sale where you can hardly remember stopping, you’re ready. Sit down with your door shut, a pencil in your hand, and a legal pad by your side. Then read your manuscript over.

“Do it all in one sitting, if possible. Make all the notes you want, but concentrate on the mundane housekeeping jobs, like fixing misspellings and picking up inconsistencies. There’ll be plenty; only God gets it right the first time and only a slob says, ‘oh well, let it go, that’s what copyeditors are for.’

“If you’ve never done it before, you’ll find reading your book over after a six-week layover to be a strange, often exhilarating experience. It’s yours, you’ll recognize it as yours, even be able to remember what tune was on the stereo when you wrote certain lines, and yet it will also be like reading the work of someone else, a soul-twin, perhaps. This is the way it should be, the reason you waited. It’s always easier to kill someone else’s darlings than it is to kill your own.”

You’ll also be on the lookout for any glaring holes in the plot or character development. And if you spot any of these big holes, you are forbidden from feeling depressed about them. Don’t be hard on yourself. Everybody makes mistakes, and they can all be fixed.

Generally King goes through the first reading fixing all the superficial issues, like typos and unclear antecedents. But as he’s doing that, he’s also asking himself the Big Questions:

Is this story coherent?

If it is, what will turn coherence into a song?

What are the recurring elements?

Do they entwine and make a theme?

What’s it all about?

“Most of all, I’m looking for what I meant, because in the second draft I’ll want to add scenes and incidents that reinforce that meaning. I’ll also want to delete stuff that goes in other directions. There’s apt to be a lot of that stuff, especially near the beginning of a story, when I have a tendency to flail.”

I can understand what King is saying here about the flailing at the beginning. Because I do not plot when I write, I have ideas that crop up halfway through that would require being introduced earlier, for example. Or perhaps as my understanding of the characters evolved as I wrote more, I realize that they behaved out-of-character earlier on. This is certainly one downside to not plotting. But isn’t is also kinda liberating to be able to take detours and wind up at a different but equally interesting destination?

Okay. So go ahead and fix all of the issues you found, and your first revision is complete.

Second Opinions and the Second Revision

“Do all opinions weigh the same? Not for me.”

Now you’re done with the first draft. You’ve patched over any plot holes and smoothed out those typos and grammar mistakes. You’ve polished the symbols and themes until they shine.

Once this is done, King gives a copy of work to his wife and several close friends (4-8) to receive detailed feedback. In other words, he has several close friends beta for him.

“Many writing texts caution against asking friends to read your stuff, suggesting you’re not apt to get a very unbiased opinion from folks who’ve eaten dinner at your house and sent their kids over to play with your kids in your backyard.

“The idea has some validity, but I don’t think an unbiased opinion is exactly what I’m looking for. And I believe that most people smart enough to read a novel are also tactful enough to find a gentler mode of expression than ‘This sucks.’ Besides, if you really did write a stinker, wouldn’t you rather hear the news from a friend while the entire edition consists of a half-dozen Xerox copies?”

What he gets back is 4-8 very detailed and different analyses of what he wrote. What’s very important to remember is that every reader looks at a work through a different lens. If half of them say a character’s portrayal is far-fetched but the other half say the opposite, than their feedback regarding that point has balanced out. However, if the majority of them say that something doesn’t work, then King goes back and sees if he can improve it.

Also, different readers pick up on different details. This is the age of internet and now we are able to check facts whenever we like, but it is still nice to have something of a subject matter expert on hand, because they are liable to pick up on details that the writer may not.

For example, I often beta fanfiction for anime. I am fluent in Japanese, live in Japan, and have studied Japanese culture and history. While I would never claim to be a “subject matter expert” on Japan, I am able to make certain corrections regarding, say, the type of kimono a character should be wearing, that the writer would not have considered.

It’s very easy to accept feedback that deals with facts (i.e. a beta corrects you on the standard procedures for CPR). However, it’s much harder to handle subjective feedback (i.e. “The ending felt inconclusive.”). Having put as much work as you have into creating this, it can feel like a personal attack because this story is a very dear part of you. What do you do if your beta tells you something like this?

“Subjective evaluations are, as I say, a little harder to deal with, but listen: if everyone who reads your book says you have a problem, you’ve got a problem and you better do something about it.

“Plenty of writers resist this idea. They feel that revising a story according to the likes and dislikes of an audience is somehow akin to prostitution. ... But come on, we’re talking about half a dozen people you know and respect. If you ask the right ones, they can tell you a lot.

“Do all opinions weigh the same? Not for me. In the end I listen most closely to [my wife], because she’s the one I write for, the one i want to wow. If you’re writing primarily for one person besides yourself, I advise you pay very close attention to that person’s opinion. And if what you hear makes sense, then make the changes. You can’t let the whole world into your story, but you can let in the ones that matter the most. And you should.”

I think, especially in the age of prolific fanfiction in which the author usually updates as they write the story, the author feels a lot of pressure from their readers. Readers chomping at the bit for the main characters to have a naughty scene, or demanding to know about that one secret thing that you keep alluding to. A lot of fanfic writers struggle to tow the line of “writing a good story based on reader feedback” and “pandering.”

My advice to fanfic writers out there is to tell those thirsty readers to read a one-shot if they’re looking for a quick fix of smut, and to have some goddamn patience. You’re trying to tell a story, one that builds and progresses, and that takes time. Don’t give in to those “OMG MAKE THEM KISS ALREADY” reviews. But if a lot of readers say something like, “I feel like this character wouldn’t do that,” then perhaps you should re-evaluate that.

On Pace and Reducing Glut

“Formula: 2nd Draft = 1st Draft - 10%.”

So now you have your first draft done. You have your feedback from your trusted betas. And now you need to go and make the final changes.

King states that you should rely on your most trusted betas to gauge whether or not your story is paced correctly and if you’ve handled the back story in satisfactory fashion. “Pace” is the speed at which your narrative unfolds.

”There is a kind of unspoken (hence undefended and unexamined) belief in publishing circles that the most commercially successful stories are novels are fast-paced. I guess the underlying thought is that people have so many things to do today, and are so easily distracted from the printed word, that you’ll lose them unless you become a kind of short-order cook, serving up sizzling burgers, fries, and eggs over easy just as fast as you can.

“But you can overdo the speed thing. Move too fast and you risk leaving the reader behind, either by confusing or by wearing him/her out. ... I believe each story should be allowed to unfold at its own pace, and that pace is not always double time. Nevertheless, you need to beware--if you slow the pace down too much, even the most patient reader is apt to grow restive.”

So how can you strike a happy medium? Rely on your most trusted betas and their input. King says, “Every story and novel is collapsible to some degree. If you can’t get out ten percent of it while retaining the basic story and flavor, you’re not trying very hard. The effect of judicious cutting is immediate and often amazing. You’ll feel it and your betas will too.”

On backstory, King issues some opinions and advice:

It’s important to get the backstory in as quickly as possible, but it’s also important to do it with some grace.

A reader is more interested in what’s going to happen instead of what already did.

Even when you tell your story in a straightforward manner, you’ll discover you can’t escape at least some backstory.

“The most important things to remember about backstory are that (a) everyone has a history and (b) most of it isn’t very interesting. Stick to the parts that are, and don’t get carried away with the rest.”

Source: King, Stephen. On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft. Hodder, 2012.

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keirmoonrock · 3 years

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Hello, darling! Can I ask for the 'fanfic writer ask' thing? G, I, and S are the ones that interest me the most at the moment.

Hey, nice to see you @covered-with-ink! Always a pleasure! Really interesting questions, too…

(WARNING: VERY LONG)

G: For genre, I t h r i v e on longfics with very intense plots. I’ll add romance sometimes, but it’s never the main topic. Fun fact actually, I hate reading a lot of pure romance in fanfiction and as a genre of literature. (Almost) Everything I’ve written has actually been in some kind of AU… usually because it’s too complicated to research the canon, or in the case of my current fic, I wanted to experiment and explore dynamics between characters that I felt weren’t explored enough. In the case of my two major major works, both involve magic/mythology being real, so I actually do a looot of worldbuilding, too. I created a whole religion and multiple languages in the first one 💀

I: As far as my readers’ image of me goes… I worry sometimes they think I’m nuts??? I mean, with my first fic especially… I did a lot of fourth walk breaks in notes, hinted at future things in comments, and at one point literally wrote out a symbolic response to someone begging for a hint at what would happen next IN. MORSE. CODE. I’ve impersonated a corporation (fun fact: that’s why this blog is called Keir Moonrock Co. Trademarked and Patented) in the notes by saying like… “The Keir Moonrock Coroporation thanks you for your patience”

I honestly so miss that interaction with my readers… it’s hard to do it with something less (not by much lol but less) mysterious and fancy than my first fic, and also Death Note fans just seem to comment wayyyy less than Beatles fans? But hey, 80% of those comments were from repeat commenters who updated with every chapter, sooo

In terms of then and now, I get a lot of comments saying my works are underrated, so I guess that’s a thing. Maybe the ideas of someone’s kid getting a whole 10 chapter POV scares them off, or making Higuchi a main and well-explored character… beats me haha

(also I wonder if people get mad seeing me in the tags here for posting official art for an AU literally only I care about… but I really want to share some of it, you know? In case anyone does care)

S: Symbolism… oh, I’m so gLAD YOU ASKED

My first fic was p a c k e d with it. I mean, people were referred to as dolls, as soldiers, as angels and demons… grief turned into birds, multidimensional legacies turned into wars.

In other stuff, alcoholism has been a hole, suicide has been a shovel, a character’s entire life and drug addiction was a German movie from the 80s..weird stuff. And my current fic doesn’t have any major symbolism yet? I think later on puppetry will be a thing, same with shogi and/or chess… those are kinda basic though XD

But as far as across my fics go? Not symbolism, but there’s an overarching theme of “sins of the father are not the sins of the son”. In other words, at least one character in all of my major fics have to come to the realization that the horrible things their father or mother have done or are doing are NOT horrible things that they are to blame for, are to apologize for, or are to feel guilty about. There have also been/will also be two characters who relate to their past using separate names. One was given the name Ruth Holmann by her father (who kidnapped her) to suppress her cultural identity and hide her from her birth parents, and in her mind, Kyoko (birth name) died when she was 8 years old. Her town believes this, too, and actually builds her a grave. Ruth, then, replaces her for the next 20 or so years. But when she returns to her town after reuniting with her mother, and sees the grave, she becomes so afraid seeing the name and hearing the book’s talking magic dead mermaid bird (don’t ask lol) call her, “Dead Girl” that she reconsiders it all. And in my current fic, (lol now we get to Death Note) because the AU is that Light went to Wammy’s, he sees himself in two versions: Hikaru Yamaji, a manipulative control freak who dreamed about pushing his foster mother down a flight of stairs and killing her (really he developed a need to control people out of the chaos of losing his parents but he’s hard on himself haha) AND Light, a well-behaved school student with a beautiful girlfriend in a happy relationship who’s also first in line to succeed L. But as the plot starts to twist (WHICH IS LITERALLY COMING THE NEXT CHAPTER AND I’M S O O O O EXCITED) he begins to question which one he really is, and which one was ever real at all.

LMAO THAT WAS LONG

I’M SO SORRY FOR RANTING EVERYONE WHO MADE IT THIS FAR GETS A FREE COOKIE 🍪

#Fanfic #Writing #Writeblr #Ask

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gakupoid2m · 5 years

Text

Lol, I suddenly got an urge to complete this fanfiction I wrote last year after getting four of my teeth pulled out to get my braces.

Title: Toothache

Word count: 1,699

Fandom: Gintama

Pairing: Gintsu

Sakata Gintoki was a big baby. And to say that Tsukuyo didn’t know this when she was getting into a relationship with him, would be wrong. It was just that she didn’t know the severity of the situation.

You see, if you would’ve told her that The Shiroyasha, one of the Four Heavenly Kings and the Savior of Yoshiwara was afraid of the ‘dentist’ and would lock himself up in a room the moment you even mentioned the word, she would’ve thought you were joking. Because sure, the man still behaved like a ten year old but to think that you could get him to sweat bullets by saying the words ‘dentist, clinic, and tooth extraction’ in one sentence, was something she hadn’t quite anticipated.

In the years she had come to know him, she had figured out that the man had a huge sweet tooth and would look for any opportunity to stuff his mouth with the sweetest thing he could find and she was more than fine with it, because Hey? She liked to smoke, he liked to eat disgustingly sweet things and everybody else on Earth was probably also addicted to atleast something. But it becomes a problem when your ‘addiction’ causes you to suffer, which in Gintoki’s case, manifested in the form an extremely painful toothache.

“I am not leaving this room, you hear me!” He shouted from inside as he held his cheek trying to soothe his pain. He thought about the last time he had visited the dentist and shuddered. Looking at his free hand, he thanked God that he didn’t walk out of the clinic that day with a toothbrush in place of his arm.

“He’ll just take a look and we’ll be back before we know it!” Tsukuyo shouted back, still trying to get the door to open but it seemed as if Gintoki had blocked it from the inside somehow.

“That’s what they all say! And then before you know it, you’re walking out of the clinic with a tooth missing from your mouth!”

Tsukuyo rolled her eyes at his childish argument. She figured she wasn’t going to have any luck opening the door by force so she decided to be crafty. Perhaps a bribe would work better. She smirked as her mind began to cook up an offer he could not refuse.

“Okay, if you don’t wanna go, it’s fine.”

Gintoki’s ears perked up when he heard her say those words. It seemed highly suspicious to him that after pestering him for a whole day to go the doctor, she would give up like that. But then again if he hadn’t whined so much about his toothache in the first place, she wouldn’t have even asked him to get it checked out.

Maybe, she decided to let it go?

He slowly got up and opened the door slightly to see what was going on.

Tsukuyo was sitting on the couch, smoking her pipe. He let out a sigh of relief and decided to walk over to her, one hand still on his cheek. He sat down opposite to her and opened his copy of Shonen jump, hoping it would help him take his mind off the throbbing pain in his gums.

“It’s really unfortunate you know. Hinowa was just telling me about this amazing desserts shop that opened last week but since you have a toothache, we can’t really go.”

So that was her plan.

Gintoki smirked understanding all too quick what she was trying to do, but he wasn’t going go down that easy.

“I see. Well, maybe it’s about time I start cutting down on my sugar intake.” He lied. There was nothing in this world that could make him do that but if he wanted to win against her, he had to make bold statements.

“Really? Well, I guess you’ll miss out on their special jumbo parfait then.”

“That’s fine with me.”

“I heard it reaches 3 feet high.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And it’s supposed to taste like every dessert combined.”

“…”

“They even top it off with this divine strawberry syr-”

“FINE! I’ll go get it checked out, but you’re going to take me to this new place as soon as we leave.”

Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he needed more than bold statements to win against Tsukuyo. So he surrendered. And in the next hour he found himself sitting in the most dreadful seat he had ever been in.

The walls of the clinic were pink in color and the furniture along with the dental chair was white, as if the architect wanted to mimic an actual mouth. There were posters of people smiling, showing off their perfectly straight, white and cavity-free teeth. There was another one with a dentist standing next to a tooth, which had face on it and both of them seemed to be doing a fist bump. To Gintoki, that was something he’d see in his nightmares but for the sake of his jumbo parfait that Tsukuyo had promised him, he suppressed his urge to scream at it.

“Don’t let go of my hand okay?” he tightened his grip on her hand and looked at her as if he was about to die. All the color on his face had drained and at that moment she really was sure he would faint the moment the doctor entered the room.

“Gintoki…”

By the way he was acting; even Tsukuyo had started to get afraid. Was getting a tooth extraction really that big of a deal? She shook her head in denial. Even if did hurt as bad as he was acting it would, she was going to make sure he got it. Because she definitely wasn’t going to spend another day listening to him whine about how bad his toothache was.

“Okay, but promise me you won’t run away when the doctor comes?”

Gintoki nodded his head vigorously before shutting his eyes close.

That’s right. He didn’t need to see anything happen. It can’t hurt you if you don’t acknowledge it. Right! Everything was for the sake of the Jumbo parfait that was waiting for him outside the doors of this place.

Bracing himself for the dread that was about to come, he took a deep breath and felt his soul leave his body as he heard the door open with an eerie creak.

“Ah, I see you’re already settled. Well then, let’s see how bad the damage is?”

He heard the Doctor put on his latex gloves and opened his mouth reluctantly. He felt something cold touch the inside of his cheeks and closed his free hand into a fist. Turning his attention away from click and clack of the dental equipment hitting the tray, he tried to focus on the ticking of the clock hanging above him.

Wrong move.

With every passing second he became more and more aware that death would soon come take him but what annoyed him the most was how slowly time was passing. He mentally cursed the clock for mocking and teasing him in his time of worry.

“Hmmm…. Well, the cavity has grown pretty deep. The only option is to remove it.”

There it was. The death sentence.

He slowly opened one of his eye to take a look at what happening and saw the doctor smile back at him innocently as if he wasn’t about to rob him of his tooth in a few minutes. He also took a look at Tsukuyo who was looking worriedly at the huge syringe in the Dentist’s hand. It was then that he realized that his grip on her hand had loosed a while ago and now, she was the one clutching his hand. A little too tight that it hurt but if he was being honest, if this pain would take his mind off his awaiting tooth extraction, he was ready to endure it.

“Open wide for me.”

The doctor administered the local anesthesia and waited for a while before grabbing a forceps-like tool from his tray.

Gintoki shut his eyes once again and counted to three before he felt Tsukuyo’s hold on him loosen. He slowly opened his eyes again and saw the dentist setting his tooth aside on the tray.

“The anesthesia will wear off in about two hours. Remove the gauze after about an hour and it’s fine to see a little bit of blood in your saliva but if the bleeding is heavy, it will treated as a medical emergency. Oh, and be sure to eat only soft food for a few days like soup or ice-cream.”

Tsukuyo listened intently to the instructions of the dentist and thanked him for his work before looking back at Gintoki, giving him a relaxed smile.

“Right. Ice-cream it is.”

Walking out the clinic, Gintoki felt like a new man. Finally, he was free to go drown himself in all the ice-cream and parfaits he could manage but first…

“See? That wasn’t all that bad was it?” Tsukuyo walked a little infront him and said in a told-you-so voice.

“I don’t know, I had others things occupying my mind at the time, but maybe you could tell me?” He wasn’t really supposed to talk after his treatment but he couldn’t wait to see her reaction any longer.

Tsukuyo turned around at his remark with a confused face and saw him holding up his right hand directly at her which had a very visible bright red imprint of her own on it.

“T-That is-” She turned around nervously sputtering something he couldn’t quite understand and started walking at a fast pace.

“Oi, you sure you wanna leave me here? You seemed pretty worried about me a while ago? Why don’t you hold my hand again so we don’t get separated?”

She could feel him smiling smugly at her and picked up her pace even more.

“Shut up! Do you want go get the parfait or not?!”

Gintoki relished in his successful attempt of making her embarrassed a little while longer before letting out a sigh.

“Alright, I’m coming.” He scratched the back of his head and started following behind her.

Man, He really couldn’t win against Tsukuyo.

#Gintsu #Sakata gintoki #Tsukuyo #gintama #gintsu is love #gintsu is life #lol I hope I captured the dread of getting a tooth extraction perfectly #gintsuku #<3

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omeliaendgame · 4 years

Text

Are you with me

Hey Omelia-Fans :) I think that my fanfiction “Doubts” is completed with the third part, because it was just about Owen and Amelia coming back together after season 16. So I wanted to post this fanfiction I wrote after I watched episode 2 of season 14. So it´s a throwback to Amelia´s tumor and how I imagined, Owen could experience it. I hope you like it!

(If you noticed it: The title of this fanfiction is the title of a song by Nilu. I love this song and I thought the title would fit to this story ;) )

Owen, Megan and Teddy sat on Megans bed and talked about Nathan, when they heard someone knocking at the door. „Come in“, Megan said. Amelia appeared in the doorway, feeling clearly not comfortable. Owen, Megan and Teddy stared at her surprised and Amelia opened her mouth. She could see that anyone in this room was upset because of her behaviour, and the fact that Owen looked away hurt her a lot in this moment. „Owen,…I need to talk to you“, she said quietly and afraid of his reaction. „You need to talk to me? Alright then. But don´t expect that I will be friendly with you, because you weren´t when I talked to you“, he said in a cold tone. She pressed her lips together and moved towards the door, signaling Owen to come with her. They left the room and Amelia went straight forward to the stairwell, which was usually empty. „Okay go. What do you have to tell me? I hope it´s something important, because you didn´t care about me the last days and even weeks!“, Owen said. Amelia tried to hold back her tears. Owen was so right, but it hurt so much hearing him talking to her like this. „Owen, I...I know I didn´t behave like a wife should do and… I´m so so sorry...“ „Yeah, now you´re sorry… The last time we talked you didn´t seem to be sorry and you even told me that I could be with Teddy!“, Owen interrupted her. Amelia took a deep breath. „I know, but I was… it doesn´t matter right now and before you interrupt me again: Please, Owen, I need you to listen to me now, okay?“, her voice cracked, „Because I will not be able to tell you that what I´m going to say right now twice. Afterwards you can yell at me or whatever you want to do.“ Owen didn´t answer and tried to read Amelias face to find out, what she was going to tell him. But she didn´t look at him. „Owen...I... okay, I don´t know how to start... It´s just… After this surgery I prepared when we talked the last time, I found out...“, she took a breath, „I found out, that I have a big tumor in my brain.“ She has said it. Now he knew. Amelia tried to control herself and not to start crying. Owen raised his eyes and looked at her. He saw that she struggled to stay strong. Then he realized what she just had said. She had a brain tumor?! „What?“, he said monotonously. „I…“, she began but stopped. She couldn´t say that again. She would begin to cry and never stop. „I´m sorry I didn´t tell you sooner“, she managed to say and turned away. She heard his steps and then… the door? He left the room without saying something! Amelia knew it was his right after all she did to him, but she wished he would have said something to her. What did it mean?! Was he mad,…did he even care?

Owen went through the hallways in a state of shock. He needed to process the information about Amelias tumor. Where was the tumor exactly? She said it was big! Was it malignant?! Would it be removed? His head was spinning from thousands of questions. He could have asked her those things. But instead of that he just walked away. He sat down on a chair in the waiting room. Was it right to let Amelia alone now? He was still upset with her, but she had a brain tumor! But what could he have done instead? He couldn´t talk, it was like being in a bubble. He barely noticed that Teddy took place next to him. „Owen, are you okay? Did you talk to Amelia?“, she asked. Owen slowly came back to reality and stared into space. „I did. She has a brain tumor“, he said before he was thinking about it. Teddy´s eyes widened. For a second she tried to find out if he was joking, but she knew it was real. She didn´t know what to say. „What...I mean… what kind of tumor?“, she asked shocked. „I don´t know… I didn´t ask. To be honest, I didn´t say anything. I just went away.“, he explained her, now feeling guilty about that. He knew he should have handled it differently. Teddy looked at him and then at the ground. After a little while she said: „You have to go back to her. It´s not fair.“ „I know“, he said, „But I don´t know what to say to her. I don´t know how I should feel now? Should I still be upset about her behaviour? Or should I forgive her? I don´t even know how to be angry at her now.“

„You don´t need to be angry. And you don´t need to forgive her… But I think she needs her husband right now. She has a brain tumor, Owen. Maybe she will have to go to surgery, or do radiotherapy or... I don´t know.“

Owen nodded. „I´m such a jerk, Teddy. She was close to crying and I left her. Where has that all led?!“, he sighed desperate. „Then go and look after her“, Teddy tried to help him. She knew that that was more important than her feelings towards Amelia. She didn´t really know her, and if she liked her or not, Owen was her husband and shouldn´t do the same mistake Amelia did.

Owen went to the stairwell, where he and Amelia had talked. Amelia wasn´t there anymore. He opened the door of an on call room next to the stairwell and found her standing at the window. She looked at him for a second but turned around when she recognized him. „I´m sorry, Amelia“, he said. „I shouldn´t have gone away without saying something. I was just...shocked and confused.“

Amelia still didn´t look at him but she said: „You were right. I know I was horrible to you and that you are upset“, she said with a broken voice, „I wasn´t there for you, so you don´t have to be here with me, Owen.“

„Amelia, please look at me!“, he said and she slowly turned her face. „I am sorry I left you alone. I know it didn´t go well between us the last time, but I care about you! I don´t want you to do this alone, okay? I´m here with you, and I´m sorry for the things I said to you earlier.“ Amelia swallowed and felt so bad. He was such a good man; she didn´t deserve that. „Thank you“, she whispered and tears ran out of her eyes. He took a step towards her and noticed dark circles under her eyes. She propably didn´t sleep the last days. He pressed his lips together and pulled her into his arms. She laid her head on his shoulder and let him hold her. That was what she needed. He was the one, who kept her from falling. And he was the only one, whose help Amelia would accept.

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2ki8h1 · 5 years

Text

What if Ishimaru and Mondo had both survived the killing game?

So, at the beginning of this year (2019), I decided to embark in a different project: to write a full fanfiction surrounding a certain idea: “What if both of them had survived the killing game?”. The goal of this was to include Ishimaru, as well as Mondo, in the canon plot described by the games and anime (I still haven’t read the novels or the mangas) by creating an adventure surrounding them but also focused in points I wished I saw in Danganronpa. In other words, write about their character development, their relationship (yes, it was supposed to be mainly focused on Ishimondo as a couple, slowly blossoming their romance) but it was also an opportunity to write about tragedy and despair (I enjoy writing horror and angst). I won’t reveal any major spoilers (about my fanfiction) because I haven’t decided if I will continue to work on this. I have other tasks at hand that I need to prioritise. It was supposed to be a big project which I estimated to be longer than 100.000 words. [so far, I have only written over 13k with the 1st chapter still at the beggining, while the second one is already at the middle with over 10k words.]

The point of this post: since I don’t know if I continue this or not, I would love to share the best moments I have wrote so far (both humorous and romantic and I have decided to not share any gory/sad parts). I will give context for every part I share without giving too much details.

NOTE 1: The narrator tries to put themselves in the feet of the character they are focusing on. So, they also try to adopt their way of speech and attempt to convey their feelings facing the various occasions (for example: the narrator is more crude and sad when the character in focus is Mondo)

NOTE 2: English is not my first language. So I apologise for any mistakes found.

WARNING: HEAVY SPOILERS FOR DR1 AND SDR2.

1. “Hopes and Dreams”

Chapter: 1

Context: epilogue of DR1, looking at the metal gate that locked them inside the school, after defeating Junko.

The prospects of a new start were high amongst everyone. Makoto was experiencing a restraint holding his body, in other words, he felt tensed. Suddenly, the feel of warm leather touched his right palm. Kyoko had approached him and gently held his hand. She didn’t made eye contact however he appreciated her kind gesture. “You will not fight this battle alone.” Her speech motivated him and invoked a determined willpower from within which led him to furrow his eyebrows and squeeze her hand slightly harder. Amused by his mood changes, Kyoko tried but failed to conceal a shy, joyful smile.

Mondo walked closer to his brother and hurriedly hurled his long coat to fall over the other man’s shoulder and placed his right arm around Ishimaru’s neck to enfold him in a friendly embrace. That action startled Taka, who barely succeeded to sustain both feet on the ground after the abrupt (and clumsy) headlock. Along with an open, radiant grin, Mondo spoke: “Finally, we’re leaving this place!” Taka with his left hand reached and grabbed Mondo’s right wrist and looked back at him to return his kind words with a soft, resolved smile.

(...)

Byakuya continued to show suppression of his emotions to let his cruel image rule whatever perceptions he wishes others to have of him. Toko was next to him, fidgeting her fingers in embarrassment, peeking briefly at her “beloved” every two seconds with an odd, lustful desire on her face. Hiro, in the other hand, was screaming and crying in ecstasy, praying down in all fours, blessing the floor underneath and showing gratitude to whatever god (or alien) was looking after him.

2. “Lost happy memories”

Chapter: 1

Context: shortly after opening the door, the survivors stand inside the school grounds but outside the building, thinking what they should do next.

Even if any of the lost memories had still not returned, Mondo remembered fondly of the small time he spent with Chihiro during the game, it had been enough for him to develop feelings of admiration towards the geek. He reached out for a specific content that was sitting inside of his long coat’s left pocket (the same coat that continued to shelter Ishimaru’s shoulders) to purposely find the set of stolen photos that served as evidence in the former trial. He glanced upon one in particular. It starred him hugging fiercely both of the baseball star and the computer nerd – he was happy. No, he was extremely happy. Look at his wide, stupid grin; it was a smile that he didn’t recall to see a long time ago. He browsed through the rest and his suspicions were confirmed. He had good times at Hope Peak’s academy. However, the collection was limited. Did he get along with the rest of the class? Were he and Ishimaru as close as they currently are or were they fierce enemies fighting about dumb things? There were a few of him smiling towards Taka. More than anything, he wanted to believe in the happiest statements. He glanced through the same photographs once again but he ended up with the same doubts. He wished to rewind time and relive through those moments one last time where he could adopt the same idiotic, relaxed posture he seemed to use back then. At least, he wished the set included a photo of him with his kyoudai. Did they also resolve their differences with a competition in the sauna? He laughed at the thought.

Ishimaru sighed while pointing at one of them. “I will miss them as well.” At the end of his index finger was a photograph captured by Makoto: They were all posing for the picture, in their school uniforms, inside their classroom (well, almost everyone - of course, Leon insisted in wearing his version of a “uniform”). Mondo turned his head to encounter red eyes glazed, stained with tears that fought to break free. Wow, he really was kind. “We were lucky… I wonder if I truly deserve to be one of the s-”

Maybe too kind for his own good. “Shut it...” He caught Taka surprised with the response. “What would I do without my brother next to me?” Mondo added, wrapping an arm around the other’s neck in a friendly way.

“Maybe it’s true. I still have a lot to lecture you about the true value of effort!”

That was not what Mondo wanted to hear “Oi-“

“And, as selfish as this may sound, I am truly relieved you weren’t the one who passed away.”

Sadness and guilt. Mondo looked at Kiyotaka and remembered how those two words felt. Those were feelings Kiyotaka was over familiar with… hell, even he knew the despair hidden behind those terms.

Mondo had quickly learned to detect those moods. In fact, he was pretty good at it! And he was unnecessarily proud of that achievement... The diagnosis? Symptoms of a low self-esteem. He still hadn’t figure it out how to improve his condition however, he had to think about it later; right now, he wanted to focus in leaving this creepy-ass school.

“Movin’ on… What th’ hell is this creepy smile?” In a sloppy attempt to change the subject, he shoved the mentioned picture in Taka’s face.

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Look at your face! You look like those creepy clowns but without the makeup. So stiff and robotic and why are you behaving like a soldier?”

“Ghk- Are you saying I am ugly?”

“Wha-! Ah- Shit! no!” just like mentioned before… embarassingly sloppy “That’s not what I meant! I just wanted to tell ya’ that ya’ need to smile naturally and not force yourself just ta’ try to look good in th’ pictures because it has the opposite result you intended!” Mondo pulled off a different photograph. In this one, they were with their gym clothes, enjoying a P.E. class and Ishi was smiling brightly while cheering for their class “For example, in this ya’ look natural ‘cause ya’ got caught off guard!”

“Oh- I see.” Disappointment was felt in his voice.

“Well- See? It doesn’t mean yar ugly or nothi’, actually I think ya’ are very good lookin’. Ya’ just look funny in photographs. Not everyone is photogenic! ... (especially you…)” he babbles.

“Thank you.” Taka released a soft smile. The type of smile someone would like to record it with a photograph “You are a very kind man, kyoudai!”

And Mondo gets easily flustered with sweet (and cheesy) praises “Oh! Stop it! Don’t worry that pretty head of yours thinking that yer’ ugly or some bullshit like that…”

“I don’t usually concern myself over those issues. But I can’t stop myself from wondering if the lack of a more relaxed posture or behavior is the result of my failures at adopting socials skills.”

Mondo couldn’t deny it. He had the same opinion. He gave it a shrug in an attempt to give the conversation a closure.

“And if I may say so myself. I think you are a very attractive man yourself, Mondo.”

Mondo blushed even harder at the sudden compliment. And again, that cute smile… if only he could make him smile like that in photos…

“I know!! What if I force you to smile spontaneously?”

A small silence broke between the two “Force me to smile spontaneously?” Mondo cringed at the obvious mistake “Did you think that through?”

“Eh- shit! Atleast I am tryin’. I don’t see ya’ spittin’ any ideas!”

Taka chuckled. Mondo never considered to see Ishimaru laugh as he did right now. It created an ambience of comfort. It’s a new side that Mondo wished to see his brother with it in more occasions. “I will try to think of something too, then.”

Observing those two talking was Kirigiri; detective mode activated: the right index finger intertwined and resting on her chin as she would normally do whenever she found herself immersed deep in her thoughts. “Those two seem to be in a good mood. It’s good to have someone to rely on.”

“Well, I consider myself lucky too. After all, I am the ultimate lucky student if I have you backing me up.”

That was… unexpected. Was he trying to be smooth, flirty or just kind? One look at his facial expression: huge smile, eyebrows tense, shoulders determined. He was definately not trying to be flirty but that comment was very effective. She turned around, flushed.

3. “Makoto, the servant”

Chapter: 2

Context: daily life of Makoto in the Future Foundation.

Makoto had woken up with a tedious mood. He checked his alarm clock and groaned… 4 a.m., “Great!” He said before slamming the snooze button and slumping back into the flat, old pillow. He blamed Togami for that. The man continued to impose him waking up at ridiculous hours to perform the most preposterous tasks. To be honest, he sometimes felt to be Togami’s pet or worse… a servant. He cringed at the idea and quickly dismissed such unwelcomed thoughts to not further the cranky mood he was in.

“Peasant, I will need my coffee at exactly 65ºC (150ºF) with just a sniff of cinnamon or I’ll have you thrown into the dungeon. Naegi, you tell them the answer!” He adjusted his imaginary glasses, pointing forcefully to a random nearby object while attempting to copy Togami’s presumptuous act with an over exaggerated high-pitched voice. “Makoto, that was not what I wanted y-you to t-tell… t-them.“ …but he merely ended in chuckles in the middle of the last one, ridiculing his own failed attempts.

He pushed the sheets to one side and hopped off out of bed. Imitating Togami would always lighten his mood. He grabbed his phone to see what horrifying tasks awaited him that day…

4. “Reunion”

Chapter: 2

Context: Mondo was part of the 2nd division (army) while Ishimaru belonged to the 14th division. Mondo was a soldier, facing wars in different points of the world; while Ishimaru worked in Future Foundation’s headquarters, safe from any danger. This was not their first reunion but it was the one where they spent the most time apart. The location of the reunion was in a cafeteria inside FF.

At the end of the corridor, he rested his hands over the knees to normalize his respiratory rate. One mental reminder to himself was to put his exercise in order! Those sleepless nights and postponing his exercise regime were clearly affecting his stamina. Though, he would have to worry about that later. Still panting, he recomposed to an upright stance to meet the single entrance of the beautiful building where Mondo awaited him. The smell of freshly baked buns was causing his stomach to start rumbling. He touched the glass door but didn’t push it to open. Instead he looked through the stained glass and tried to spot him. Shaky breaths were quickly turned into condensation whenever these brushed over the surface of the glass, defocusing the once clear image and forcing Kiyotaka to clean the droplets with his right sleeve. It had been wise to look for him behind the entrance door. It avoided a clumsy search inside the cafeteria for anyone to watch and whisper. He sensed something was beating fast inside of him. He confirmed that his heart was racing when he placed a hand close to his chest. Why did he feel so nervous?

The cafeteria was still pretty empty at this time of the day but a few people were starting to fill the empty chairs and placing their trays on top of the metallic round tables to start enjoying their meals. Loud laughter and loud chatter slowly scattered across the space, too much to his annoyance. He looked at his right, straight to his usual table. It was almost hidden by a load-bearing wall, away from the restless crowd and at the same time, closer to the landscape he so enjoyed. That blooming tree filled his morning with color and energy and made him believe that he could endure another harsh, boring day. Darn, someone was already occupying that… spot. Wait… sun-kissed muscles, different uniform (if not mistaken, he recognized it to be from the 2nd division), bleached long hair… That was Mondo right?

“Mondo.” he whispered only letting himself to hear before opening the door. The smile vanished in a brief second after he noticed bruises, scars and some bandages covering his best friend. Mondo turned his head around almost unconsciously to the scraping sound that the front door’s metallic base did over the tile floor, a common sound that repeated every time someone moved it to open.

Not five seconds passed when a very trembling Ishimaru had his arms around him. Mondo felt a stream of warm tears running loose in his cheeks, damping the collar of his t-shirt. Taka was crying, of course. Gently, Mondo folded his arms around the other’s midsection, pulling him to his lap to allow his forehead to drown in Taka’s neck, surrendering to the embrace.

The comments mocking the odd pair suddenly reverberated through the room, filling the air of not-so-sneaky murmurs. Without separating himself from the warmth radiated from Taka’s right shoulder, Mondo rotated his head, locking eyes with the few smug fuckers. A narrow purple iris shined in contempt out of a squinted corner of his left eye. Some deviated his looks, frighten by the former delinquent’s cold stare, while the boldest ones maintained the glare beside a derisive smile, maliciously enjoying the scene.

Yet, Taka was only focused in who held him; giving minimal concern to his surroundings. “Without hearing from you, I thought you were gone for good!” Hell, he didn’t even seem to notice the bastards around them! He only knew how his arms trembled and how his eyes hurt, overdriven with emotions.

Taka shifted to close the embrace even tighter, to reduce any amount of space that still remained between the two. The strong dedication put in those words chocked whatever sickening feeling Mondo was struggling with. Kiyotaka cherishing him was the remedy he needed to immediately light his mood and now, it was his turn to return the favor. Mondo moved one hand to ruffle Taka’s soft hair, while the left rubbed his back, working in tandem. Whatever it was, the affection was soothing the other’s tears. Mondo gave him time to compensate the time they had been away from each other so this position lasted for a few minutes.

Suddenly, Taka raised his head to look directly into the other’s eyes, who replaced kind eyes for a big smile. Mondo had a wide variety of smiles but this one, this stupid wide, teeth-clenched one meant ‘everything is alright’ where as Taka just continued to feel as hurt and tired. He inspected the scars meticulously, especially the ones across his face before unwrapping his arms around Mondo’s neck. Mondo didn’t budge but his palms slid to rest in other’s hips. Taka detected a tiny cut just under the left eye. He glared at it for a bit before rubbing it gently with his thumb to depreciate the change of texture that usually escorted injuries.

Red eyes were glazed deep in thought to which Mondo frowned and sighed. “Who are you?”

Taka was taken aback with the question. “What? Do you not recognize me?”

The exaggerated dismay on Ishimaru’s expression lines was what caused the loud, boisterous laugh that followed. It started off as a snort but it quickly developed to guffaws. That laugh only belonged to Mondo and to Mondo only. Taka simply gawked at him in absolute oblivion until the other stopped to explain. “I-I am just playin’ ya.” He managed to say between chortles “Ya’ almost fooled me with that long hair of yours, but your face continues the same. Oh gosh! How long has it been? 5 months? Hmph- it looks good on ya!”

This had not been the first time apart but it had been the longest they have been away from each other.

“This is hardly the time for games!”

“Sorry! Pout as much as you want. That cute angry face does not work on me! It was fuckin’ hilarious to see your reaction!”

Mondo conceded. He did look older, more mature, like a proper business man. He smirked turning Taka alert to his movements. He proceeded to remove his gloves and threw them carelessly on top of the table. He cupped Ishimaru’s pale but warm face against his cold hands. He flinched with the abrupt change of temperature but melted into it nevertheless. He pushed Taka’s bangs back revealing the angry wrinkled forehead and some kinky strands of hair that fought free from the grip. He noticed the obvious dark rims under the eyes, knowing full well he was the cause of that predicament. Regardless, he chose to leave the subject untouched. In any case he still had the same face and the same soft raven hair.

(…)

Although not evident, Kirigiri did worry about Ishimaru’s well being. He had a gorgeous smile when he truly felt happy and he was the only who could perform such a confidence boost in Taka.

“Hello, Mondo. It is nice to see you’re back safe.”

He looked at his right to see the former ultimate detective staring at him with a formal smile. “Hello Kirigiri. How are you?”

“Good. What about you?”

“Meh- could’a be worse!” he answered, looking fondly at Taka.

The conversation quickly died and Inadvertently, Kirigiri’s eyes fell over Mondo’s lap, where Taka was still sitting.

For once, Taka was able to read the surprise in Kirigiri’s face and immediately jumped out to his upright position leaving Mondo stunned.

“I didn’t realize I was still in y-your lap. I am so sorry kyoudai!”

He could have been quieter in saying that… Kyoko attempted to cover a snicker behind her usual thinking expression which became apparent that it would be a hard task when holding an apple in each hand.

5. “???”

Chapter: 2

Context: after the “reunion” moment. Taka went to grab breakfast for himself and Mondo, while the other waited for him in the lounge.

Taka rushed to the kitchen without running. Old habits die hard I guess. Mondo chuckled at that. A tall man with ridiculous hair was now approaching Mondo.

“Mondo! So nice to see you again, man!”

“Same, Hagakure. How are you doing?”

“Fine. (gasps) those are some ugly, nasty scars.” Hagakure pointed it out “Are you ok?”

“No, dude. Can’t you see I’m dead?”

“AHHHHHHH- a ghost!”

Mondo is now the one stunned by Hiro’s overreaction.

“Bro… Chill… I am just teasing you… Did you seriously think I was dead? How high are you?”

“Are you sure you didn’t come to haunt me??” Hiro continued, half-hunched, covering half of his face with his forearms, squinting towards an even more stupefied Mondo,

“You have serious problems. I was bein’ sarcastic, ya’ big idiot!”

“Oh- haha! I am glad to hear it!” Hagakure quickly to his usual chirp self and laughed it off “It would be bad news if I had been haunted by a ghost.”

“Whatever man…”

Thank you so much for reading!! And apologies for my terrible sense of humour!

#my writing #danganronpa #Future Foundation AU #ishimondo #Kiyotaka Ishimaru #Mondo Owada Oowada #naegiri #Makoto Naegi #Kyouko Kyoko Kirigiri #Touko Toko Fukawa #Byakuya Togami #Yasuhiro Hiro Hagakure #togafuka #naegami

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butterflyinthewell · 5 years

Text

Here is a giant post of the vocabulary I use when narrating from Godzilla’s perspective. (Pardon my autistic infodumping...)

[Human perspective shot of Godzilla looming next to a building. We’re looking upward, so all you see is his huge chest, his chin, his stomach, his hips and his hands. He is looking straight ahead, so he would have to look down to see the viewer.]

--- * A lot of what’s written in this is based on my personal headcanons / speculations for / about Godzilla and his godzillasaur species, gleaned from 20+ years of being a Godzilla fan and a few things I read on the Godzilla wiki. *

Godzilla 2014 and KOTM are bringing in brand new Godzilla fans who may want to write fanfiction, so I wrote this out to give other / newer fanfic authors ideas for how to make up vocabulary for narrating Godzilla’s POV. I personally apply this to Heisei era Godzilla, but you can pick and choose things to apply to other versions as well. This is not a how-to, it’s more of a guide map.

Godzilla can’t exactly narrate in words, so I use specific vocabulary for his narration to “paint” his perspective into a form readers can understand while still keeping it a little bit animalistic or alien. Terms that are capitalized are capitalized for 2 reasons: It’s something he “named” with a descriptor, or it’s knowledge about the world imparted on him by his Father when he was a baby. Things he doesn’t capitalize are casual terms, like we would say “my wife” or “that’s the sun up there in the sky.”

I treat Godzilla as sapient, self-aware and driven by thoughts and emotions as much as instinct. He has a distinct, individual personality. He harbors a deep connection to the Earth since he himself is a force of nature created in unnatural circumstances. At a glance he sees the world more primitively than we do because he has no understanding or need for modern human trappings like cell phones or cities, but dig deeper and his feelings about life are as complex as ours.

He gets a very interesting new perspective of the modern human world because of a nasty man named Goro Kurojima. Let’s just say “pieces of Mecha-King Ghidorah, SHRINK RAY, Godzilla becoming the size of an action figure” and leave it at that. The experience lets Godzilla realize humans put the same emphasis on family / connections that godzillasaurs do, but we kinda suck at showing it. ;)

A small note about the timeline goofiness thanks to Godzilla vs King Ghidorah: I spin it that trying to teleport the godzillasaur into the Bering Sea let him turn into a bigger, angrier Godzilla because of nuclear material that detonated when he ‘landed’ on it, so messing with time changed nothing in history other than his size. The 1984 attack and his battle with Biollante still happened. All Shindo’s submarine did was feed him and kill the anti-nuclear-energy-bacteria he got infected with in Godzilla vs Biollante.

Another note: I will use godzillasaur to refer to Godzilla’s species in general. In his mind and heart he is still a dinosaur who has lived for a very, very, very long time and his father lived even longer still. He is ancient.

---

--- Stuff related to himself, his family or Shezilla ---

The Old Days = the time of the dinosaurs, which he greatly misses. He knows he can’t return to those days because his appearance will make normal godzillasaurs run away in fear.

The New World = modern times, a place where he feels forever foreign.

The Flash = the bright detonation of the underwater nuclear energy that mutated him.

The Change = the painful process of mutating. It was an extremely traumatic experience, so he gets really pissed off if something flashes bright white light straight in his eyes. Any other color, he doesn’t care, but white is awful and reminds him of the painful Change that came after the Flash. ----Side note: Right after the Change, he swam around the ocean feeding off of natural uranium deposits until they no longer sustained him, which led to him going ashore in ‘84. The rest is history.

The Fireball = the asteroid that led to the extinction of most dinosaurs.

The Big Boom = the sound the asteroid made.

Long Sleep = hibernation

His Fire = the radioactivity that keeps him alive. When he is tiny and learns the ‘heat’ of his Fire can make humans sick, he tries to minimize his radioactive output when near people he likes. There is no way to make it safer when he is full size, but he will still try.

Feeding his Fire = when he’s absorbing radiation.

His Fire burning low / Fire Hunger = his body’s “low radiation warning” that signals he needs to go absorb more to maintain his internal fission. It feels like a mix of hunger and nausea and he feels his body getting weaker / stiffer when he needs to feed.

His Flame = his radioactive breath beam.

The Surge = his nuclear pulse. It’s a painful move for him, so he doesn’t like to do it very often.

The Scent = he has nerve fibers in the roof of his mouth that behave like a biological Geiger counter. To him it’s a scent that tingles, and the stronger the tingle the stronger the radioactivity. It’s directional, he will catch a whiff of Sustenance and track it by pointing his nose at the source. A studious observer will see him open his mouth slightly like cats do when he’s trying to pin down the exact location of a radioactive snack. It also helps him keep track of how Shezilla is doing. ----Side note: Godzilla has a very acute sense of smell, and when he’s tiny he uses smell along with sight and hearing to tell individual humans apart. He gets concerned when the lady humans he’s in contact with smell like blood because the concept of a period is beyond him, so he thinks they’re injured. It’s...kinda cute.

Sustenance = Radioactive anything he can absorb radiation from. Sometimes he swallows radioactive materials and sometimes he only needs to touch or be near them. He discovers he loves the taste of iodine-131 while he’s tiny and will slurp that up from a eye dropper like it’s candy.

Invisible light / Invisible colors = light from the ultraviolet spectrum, he’s a tetrachromat. He sees 'down’ into all the colors we can and ‘up’ into the ultraviolet spectrum. So he will see a rainbow the same way we do, but with more colors past violet. If you point a black light at him, the pits and grooves in his hide will fluoresce blue and purple. He sees these without the help of a black light. These colors are more concentrated on his hands, face, neck, chest, the edges of where his muscles bulge and the base of his dorsal spines to draw attention to these areas. Shezilla’s are in the same spots and glow pink and green. It’s these invisible colors that make them so attractive to each other, because it’s pretty.

Dark Light = x-rays and gamma rays, he perceives their effects on the environment (a blurry glow around the source) the way humans perceive certain colors as glowing under a black light.

Shining his Light = the act of lighting up his dorsal plates to impress Shezilla or alert her of his position in pitch darkness. If Shezilla does it, she’s showing him her Light.

His Thunder = the whoosh of his holosystolic heart murmur, which is due to a ventricular-septal defect. He can always hear this although it’s louder to him in quiet places or while he’s underwater.

His Lightning = the internal kick he feels from his biological nuclear reactor shocking his heart whenever its rhythm goes awry.

His Palsy / the Palsy = the spasms, limited range of motion and difficulty moving he experiences due to brain damage caused by his heart defect. His Palsy is being difficult when it hurts to move, when controlling a movement is hard or he uses a lot of effort to initiate movements, and it’s the reason he has a slow, lumbering gait. Its visible effects get more pronounced when he’s starving for radiation.

The Pangs = the chest pains he gets when his heart races towards fibrillation. This happens because the mutation caused his heart’s conduction system to form too many nerve branches around the hole between his ventricles. Sometimes they misfire, throwing chaos into his normally nice, rhythmic heartbeat. It tends to happen more when his heart beats fast. Fast for him is 50bpm or more. His resting heart rate is around 13 - 16bpm when he’s awake, drops to 10bpm when he’s in deep delta wave sleep and can go as low as 5bpm when he’s in deep hibernation. He gets up to 85bpm when the v-tach kicks in and that causes the Pangs. ----Side note: This is the sticking point of why the shrink ray is actually hurting Godzilla. When he’s tiny, his resting heart rate is close to 50bpm and jumps to 80 - 90bpm when he gets stressed, and can hit 120bpm when the v-tach kicks in and leads to fibrillation. It’s literally killing him because being smaller means his body isn’t at the critical mass it needs to be at to sustain his biological nuclear fission, which allows him to heal ridiculously fast and stay so unbelievably physically strong. His internal reactor isn’t a bottomless pit of energy, it can’t continue to zap him indefinitely.

Deep Sleep = the occasions when his heart fibrillates long enough that he loses consciousness. This was induced by the cadmium in 1984, which also stopped the internal shocks from happening, and he might have stayed down for good if that nuke didn’t go off in the sky and re-energize him.

Long Memory = his hyperthymestic memory, which is unusual even for his species; he is always journeying into his Long Memory and comparing today to The Old Days.

His mate / beloved mate / Gift from the Wishing Star = Shezilla, who appeared to him one day out of seemingly nowhere. She is the most beautiful godzillasaur he has ever seen.

Wasting Sickness = cancer / tumors, called such because the sick person gets very thin and weak. He can smell the disease.

Mother = his saurian mother. She was blind and died of the Wasting Sickness when he was still a hatchling. In human terms, she had a brain tumor that caused terrible pain, caused her to have seizures and was in the process of destroying her optic nerves when she succumbed. It was his first exposure to death, but he was too Young to be traumatized by it like Father was.

Father = the first Godzilla who appeared in 1954 and was killed by the Oxygen Destroyer. He was at sea when the nuke mutated him, which woke him up into a state of disorientation and panic. He wandered across Odo island and Japan because he was in pain, scared and desperately looking for his son. Sadly, the little humans didn’t understand him when he popped his head over a hill and asked them if they saw his son. Instead, they ran away. He got angry and smashed through their strange forest in attempt to make them listen, and in response they killed him. ----Side note: This Godzilla was the father of the ‘current’ Godzilla. His rampage across Japan is a direct result of the Futurians’ meddling because they caused him to search for his missing son instead of finding him where Shindo left him.

Metal One = MechaGodzilla

Little One = Baby Godzilla / Little Godzilla / Godzilla Jr. ----Side note: This godzillasaur is not Godzilla’s biological offspring, his real parents are long gone.

Pod = family

Marking = he has scent glands in the folds between his fingers that leave his scent behind when he scrapes his claws on something to mark an area as his. Part of why he destroys some of the same landmarks is they rebuild, which removes the scent, so he puts his scent back. ----Side note: A kaijuologist figured this out and notes that Godzilla is less likely to veer off his path and totally destroy a building that’s been sprayed with his scent after reconstruction, but it’s expensive to replicate the scent and most builders don’t apply it after rebuilding.

Patrolling = traveling old migration routes, which he uses the sun, stars and Earth’s magnetic fields to navigate through. Sometimes this takes him through cities, but most of the time he traverses rural areas or areas without any human population.

--- Beliefs ---

Spirit = soul / life force.

The Stars = the afterlife, eternity, Heaven, etc. He believes the stars in the sky are his ancestors’ Spirits, and the Milky Way is a giant forest everyone journeys to after they die.

The Wishing Star / Morning Star / Evening Star = Venus, whenever it’s up before dawn or after sunset. He reveres it the way people of faith revere their deity. He looked at it with longing any time he saw it in the sky, and believes doing so convinced it to give him Shezilla as a gift. Hence her being a Gift from the Wishing Star.

Evil Moon = a red, fully eclipsed moon. It is the antithesis of the Wishing Star. His Mother died during a lunar eclipse and the Fireball happened the day after one, so he associates lunar eclipses with bad things happening.

--- Nature stuff ---

Fire Mountain = volcano

Fire Mountain Smoke = ash or pyroclastic flow

Land Blood = magma and lava

Land Scab = lava that has cooled enough to stop glowing.

Land Heart = magma chambers deep under Earth’s crust

Land Song = the ultra low frequency vibrations of moving tectonic plates. He can hear ultra low and ultra high frequencies even beyond typical animals, so he hears distant earthquakes as music! (But they aren’t so nice when they happen underneath him, then it’s just shaking and noise.) He hears lava moving and knows a volcano is going to erupt long before it actually does. His hearing is magnified further underwater. He hears all the whale songs and dolphin clicks and any other noise that happens underwater, so when he dives he thinks the whole world sings to his heartbeat.

Land Scream = the ultra high and low frequency squeals that precede earthquakes under his current location. This hurts his ears, and instinct prompts him to try to leave the immediate area before the shaking starts.

Water Wind = tsunami, as experienced while underwater when it goes by. A big one can sweep him off course if he’s trying to swim through it.

Flood Surge = tsunami, as experienced while on land or in shallow water. He can wade through it without a problem if the water is shallow enough to walk in. This can also refer to storm surge in the event of a hurricane making landfall.

Ancient Caves = prehistoric caves that are miles under the Earth’s crust. They are the closest thing he has to the world he remembers. Human eyes have never and will never see these enormous caverns. Sometimes he goes there and scrapes up precious stones (diamonds, rubies, emeralds, sapphires, quartz, etc.) to give to Shezilla as gifts because she likes the pretty colors.

Rain Smell / Thunder Smell = the scent in the air when conditions are favorable for rainy / stormy weather. In other words, petrichor.

Big Rains = monsoons

Sea Storms = hurricanes

Mating of Sea and Sky / Mating of Land and Sky = waterspouts / tornadoes, described as such because their formation looks similar to the mating process between godzillasaurs.

Crackle = the tingly feeling from his body emitting a streamer during a thunderstorm. If it finds a step leader, he gets struck by lightning. Lightning strikes are hot and noisy, but don’t cause anything more than some burns. A strike to the face can give him flashbacks of the Flash and anger him into destroying whatever is in his path at that very moment.

Falling Cold = snow

Cold Land = polar ice caps and glaciers

Slippery Cold Land = ice

Warm Season / Hot Season / Cool Season / Cold Season = Spring, summer, fall, winter.

Long Cold Season = ice age

Draw = magnetic fields, which he is sensitive to and uses to navigate in conjunction with the position of the sun or stars. As you can imagine, anything that emits magnetic pulses or unnatural magnetic fields will disorient him and he’ll go find out what’s ‘wrong’. This, along with bird call recordings, was used to lure him up Mt. Mihara in ‘84.

Draw Up = north

Draw Down = south

Horizons = east if he’s not following the sun, west if he is following the sun.

--- Human stuff ---

Bugs, zappers and stingers = the aircraft, land vehicles and watercraft that shoot at him. Solid projectiles are stingers. The maser tanks are the zappers.

Silver forests / strange forests / glowing forests = cities, they’re called glowing at night because of the lights.

Shiny trees / strange trees / glowing trees = skyscrapers, they’re called glowing at night because of the lights.

Boxes = buildings that are squarer in shape or not tall like skyscrapers.

Tiny boxes = buildings that aren’t tall, like you see in suburban areas.

Caves / Caverns = the insides of human dwellings.

Weird rocks = furniture

Shiny rocks = tiles

Scented sand = cat litter, he doesn’t mind the strange smell. He “goes” in it when he’s tiny and buries the results like cats do because he still has the instinct to not alert predators. The cat litter is the clumping sort that blocks some of the radiation and makes it safer to clean up after him. ----------Side note: Anything from inside Godzilla’s body is dangerously radioactive when he’s full size, but less so when he’s small. You’ll get radiation sickness if you try to pet full size Godzilla while wearing anything less than a HAZMAT suit, but he can be picked up and handled safely in someone’s bare when he’s tiny. Still, people wear gloves to handle him as a precaution.

Not-dirty dirt = carpets / rugs

Mud that isn’t sticky / weird mud = bedspreads

Artificial suns = lights

Colorful Light Box / Image Box = TV sets and computer monitors.

Talking box / howling box = phones

Transparent box = the aquarium he’s kept in while tiny.

Colored vines = cords, wires, cables or ropes.

Metal vines = chains, both for jewelry and holding stuff.

Artificial claws = eating utensils, like silverware and chopsticks.

Their kill = the food humans eat. Most of it looks and smells totally unappetizing, but he expects at least a bite if they’re having meat or fish. He finds it confusing that humans can walk around a corner and reappear with food without any signs of a hunt.

Weird worms = noodles

Hot mud = coffee, it smells and tastes nasty to him. He will literally gag from the smell if it’s really strong.

Outer skins / outer shells = clothes / HAZMAT suits

Molting = changing clothes, he thinks humans molt way too often.

Eye covers = goggles

Eye frames = glasses, both Kenpachiro and Goro wear them although their choice of frames are different. (Goro’s are plastic fully rimmed black rectangular frames, Kenpachiro’s are thin titanium semi-rimmed wayfarer frames.)

Marking sticks = pens or pencils

Marking shapes = written words (in Japanese), he recognizes they have significance to the humans by how they create and react to them, but doesn’t understand the connection between writing and language.

--- Communication ---

Old Tongue = in essence, godzillasaur “language”. He uses purposeful vocalizations, facial expressions and body movements to “talk” to the humans when he’s tiny because he sees the Kenpachiro’s group as his Pod. A whole ‘sentence’ may be expressed simultaneously. If I were to translate Godzilla’s ‘language’ in a movie, it would be as subtitles. Much of his behavior is communication. ----Side note: Humans unknowingly speak Old Tongue a lot via their body language, facial expressions and tones of voice, but he gets lost with speech and the fact that humans react to each others’ vocalizations more than their gestures. That said, he uses pattern recognition to grasp the meaning of a few individual words, like responding to the specific syllables humans attribute to him and looking at who says his name, and the word stop. He picks up on the hand gestures used to train him in the lab, too. ----Extra note: A quick and dirty bit of Old Tongue-- if Godzilla tilts his snout down and looks upward at you, he’s signaling that he doesn’t trust you by getting his snout out of his visual field to watch you more closely. If he throws his head back when he roars, he’s angry!

Mind Song = telepathic communication. Godzilla communicates with Miki Saegusa through memories, emotions and sensory information because he knows when she’s touching his mind. He's able to decide whether to welcome her in or kick her out and block her off, but 99% of the time he welcomes her in.

Mouth sounds / jabbering noises / chattering = human speech... he knows it is a form of elaborate vocal communication. He finds it annoying, overly complex and confusing.

--- The naughty stuff ---

Kiss = the act of touching or nuzzling noses. A nose to nose touch is like a little peck, while rubbing their noses together is more intimate.

Impressing = the mating display behavior. He circles her, shows off his sharp teeth, shows off his dorsal spines and flexes a bit to show off his big, strong muscles. Then he brings her Sustenance or food. It’s very much the godzillasaur equivalent of a pick up line followed by a romantic dinner. If she rejects his offerings, she’s rejecting him. But if she flicks her tail to the side and rubs her head against his neck after he does all that? Ooh, baby, he’s gonna get lucky!

In Season = fertility, they both emit pheromones that stink like garbage to humans, but it’s perfume to them! Shezilla goes into season 4 times a year and it lasts a week. Godzilla goes into season once a year for a day without Shezilla present, but her going into season triggers his hormones to shift too and he’ll stay in season until she goes out of it. They get really freakin’ horny and twitchy when in each others’ presence. When apart, Godzilla tends to be a bit more aggressive because sexual frustration is a thing, and Shezilla hunts and eats more traditional fare (sharks / whales) to store extra nutrients in case she conceives and lays an egg. Also, you can’t tell by looking at Shezilla when she’s in season, but Godzilla’s dorsal spines get a little bit longer and his muscles bulk up. ----Side note: The reason Godzilla changes outwardly and Shezilla doesn’t is it’s the guy’s job to impress the girl. Their chances of actually conceiving are small because of the radiation in their cells and mutated DNA. Godzilla’s sperm cells are so hyperactive and fast-moving that kaijuologists can’t get an accurate count, and the state of Shezilla’s egg cells are unknown. The only reason kaijuologists got a sperm sample at all is because gravity is a thing and the excess dripped out as soon as Shezilla stood up again after Godzilla toppled her onto a building to do the deed for the first time. (They’re animals, they will do it anywhere if the mood strikes!)

Being One / Making Life = mating. They mate via cloacal kiss, but they do it in something similar to the human missionary position because that’s the best way to line their vents up. Shezilla’s dorsal spines are smaller because she is the one who lays on her back and helps her big, klutzy boyfriend get into position on top of her using her teeth and claws. It doesn’t hurt him at all, nature made the exact spots she bites and grips into erogenous zones that encourage him to keep going. His feet go under her thighs and flank her tail, which are erogenous zones for her. He lines his vent up with hers by feel, everts the muscular inner walls of his cloaca into her vent and her muscles grab on to achieve a proper seal. Mating for them isn’t a ’touch cloacas and done’ deal, they stay in position for several minutes. There’s no humping action either, it’s all driven by internal muscle contractions. ----Side note: In my headcanon Godzilla fucks without a dick, get over it.

Touching Spirits / Union = the sensation humans know as an orgasm. Their bodies relax instead of tense up when they feel it happen because the endorphin flood puts them into an altered state of consciousness, and it keeps them from popping apart prematurely. The most movement they’ll do is a lot of tail twitching. For Godzilla, the sensation triggers the muscle contractions for release, and for Shezilla it creates suction that moves the sperm where it’s supposed to go to fertilize an egg cell. They thrash around or groom each other afterward because they feel a tiny bit high as their endorphin rush comes to an end. -----Side note: She comes when he does because his triggers hers, so they always experience it together.

One = the godzillasaur equivalent to marriage, which is consummated the first time a pair mates.

Vent = the cloaca. It closes tight and can’t be seen when not in use for mating or expelling waste. It’s located right in front of where their tails join their body. Godzillasaurs stand upright, so that is why they mate facing each other.

Life Material = the goo inside unhatched eggs, though it can also refer to semen.

--- Specific people ---

(Canon characters)

The Deserter = Yasukai Shindo, who saluted him on Lagos Island and left him while he was wounded. He sees Shindo as the one who abandoned him to the pain of the mutation process and it’s why he looked into Shindo’s eyes through the window before he killed him with the same bright light that made him hurt. He wanted Shindo to know that he remembered and hated him. ----Side note: Shindo never realized what Godzilla was thinking when they looked at each other through the high rise window. He accepted his fate as divine retribution because he felt responsible for 'creating’ a bigger, meaner Godzilla.

The Mind Singer = Miki Saegusa, the psychic woman who confuses and intrigues him greatly. He remembers seeing her as an adult before he got mutated, but later he saw her as a child inside the train car he picked up and threw aside in ‘84. He knows humans grow bigger and their hair turns white or falls out when they get old, but from his perspective Miki is aging out of order. Time travel is a concept beyond him, so he will never understand that she traveled to the past with the Futurians. -------Side note: Miki doesn’t harbor ill will towards Godzilla even though her entire family was with her and died when he dropped the train car. She sensed no malice or cruelty in him, he was an animal doing what animals do, and holding a grudge would be like being angry with an earthquake or a tornado. As time goes on and she comes in contact with Godzilla more often, she comes to realize he is intelligent in his own way and experiences a broad range of emotions just like humans. This gives her a deep compassion towards him; he is lonely in his difference, same as her.

(OCs)

The Odd One = Kenpachiro Satsuma, an (adult diagnosed!) autistic kaijuologist who is lanky, geeky and tends to look a bit disheveled most of the time. He is a widow who deeply misses Momoko, his deceased wife. This is the guy who studies Godzilla very closely (special interest) because he truly wants to understand how he lives, communicates and experiences the world. He believes Godzilla is capable of more emotion than just anger and that humans can learn to coexist peacefully with him. Kenpachiro is the man who cloned Shezilla, so he understands the grief Godzilla is suffering through after her death and he regrets causing him that pain. ----Side note: Kenpachiro has a teenage son named Akira. He tries to be a good father to the kid, but doesn’t know how to connect with him. As a result, Akira is sometimes belligerent and misbehaves in attempt to get his father’s attention. Godzilla sees the rift between them and will try to bridge it because he misses his own father.

The Cruel One = Goro Kurojima. A buff, broad-shouldered, intimidating guy with salt-and-pepper hair and a bushy mustache. This guy is Kenpachiro’s rival. He is an abusive sadist who wants to make Godzilla suffer until he dies as payback for the loss of his family in 1954. He doesn’t differentiate the ‘current’ Godzilla from the 1954 monster even though they aren’t the same creature. He attributes only malice to Godzilla’s behavior and does not believe Godzilla is capable of anything but hatred. He has untreated PTSD. Godzilla can sense the hatred this man has for him and he doesn’t like it. -----Side note: Having PTSD is not what makes Goro an abusive, sadistic villain. His choices to hurt those around him for his own personal gain are what make him a villain. He was just a kid coming home from school when the first Godzilla reduced his house and mother to ash right in front of him and stepped on the fiery rubble. He saw his mother’s skin melt. It haunts him. The PTSD actually humanizes him and explains where his pain comes from without excusing his behavior.

The Gentle One / Mama = Reiko Fukamori, a veterinarian / kaijuologist who has feelings for Kenpachiro. She is a very plain, unassuming woman who doesn’t realize the full extent of Goro’s nastiness until he gets Godzilla into his clutches, so she is the one who sets things in motion by sneaking Godzilla away from the lab and into Kenpachiro’s hands. Her gentleness reminds Godzilla of his saurian mother. She talks to him a lot, and he is able to tell by her tone that she means him no harm. ------Side note: Reiko’s veterinary experience lets her figure out Godzilla’s high muscle tone is neurological and that his heart defect is a dangerous problem for him while he’s tiny. She knocks Kenpachiro’s socks off with her suggested solution to keep him alive until the shrink ray begins to wear off. She is the one who introduces Godzilla to iodine-131, which she gives via an eye dropper while training him to follow simple voice commands / gestures so he’s easier to work with. She is the only person Godzilla chirps at. Their relationship becomes very similar to Baby and Asuza from Godzilla vs MechaGodzilla II.

--- Example narration ---

--- Akira’s lava lamp causes tiny!Godzilla to have a flashback of his youth. Kenpachiro has a tooth from the original ‘54 Godzilla that he uses as a shelf. It’s mentioned, so I figured I should give context. ---

Reflections of the magical red globules flickered across Godzilla's eyes. It took him far back to The Old Days before the Fireball. A time when the sky was red and trees touched the clouds. Godzilla was very young and tiny with ribs that stood out on his flanks.

A Big Tooth with its short arms and bad breath lunged at him. He stared at its slavering teeth, unafraid. Suddenly, a nearly black shape streaked into view. Father caught him by the scruff of his neck and sprinted away from the danger. Young Godzilla relaxed against the reassuring touch. Father's hot breath tickled the back of his neck as he ran. Oblivious to the Big Tooth snapping at Father's heels, young Godzilla shrieked in delight. Father ran so fast! He watched the brown and green streaks of trees fly by.

Then Father ducked into the underbrush. It was muddy and cold, but Father swam through it like water. The Big Tooth would not walk out on this mud. Defeated, it crashed back into the jungle to find more suitable prey. Father slowly wriggled free on the other side of the mud. Young Godzilla thought the squishing sound it made was funny, but Father put him down and beckoned for him to follow. So young Godzilla stumbled behind his father, nipping at his ankles. He followed him up a grassy hill overlooking mountains. He was so tired when he got to the top that he collapsed, panting.

The smell in this area was horrible and glowing red rivers boiled in the valley below. Father told him the glowing red stuff was Land Blood that came from the Land Hearts inside Fire Mountains.

Father bent to lap the mud off his hands and arms. Young Godzilla purred and squirmed as the big sandpaper tongue scraped the mud off his hide. Then Father beckoned him away, for it was time to hunt.

Father took him back to the Fire Mountain at night. They stood together and watched the giant sprays of glowing Land Blood shoot towards the stars. It was nothing more than glowing red rain! He ran forward and tried to catch some on his tongue. Father roared at him to come back. Land Blood was dangerous and not a toy! It had the power to both create and destroy.

Many seasons later, when Godzilla met his Gift from the Wishing Star, he laid over her to Make Life, and at the moment of Union his body erupted like a Fire Mountain. Afterward, the fierceness in her eyes and the gentleness of her Kiss made him forget The New World he found so unfamiliar. They were One, now and forever.

Reality crystallized. He blinked and refocused his eyes. That was not Land Blood shooting up; that was red slime inside a human contraption. The tooth beside him was not the strong jaws of Father carrying him to safety. He took a step back and saw his own reflection staring at him instead of his mate’s beautiful face.

He was little again...but he would never be like he was before the Flash.

The humans who lived in this giant cave were the closest thing he had to a Pod. And by the look of it the Odd One did not pay close attention to his young. He was ignorant to the younger one’s needs for attention. This ignorance would soon drive them apart.

Godzilla howled past the bitterness in his throat. He turned away from his reflection. Brokenness happened everywhere he went, and it would never stop.

--- One last note ---

Godzilla makes eye contact and reads emotions through eyes much like neurotypical humans do. Eye contact won’t provoke him like it does most animals unless a hostile move follows. He can read the emotions in a human’s eyes if he gets close enough to see them, and humans who survive eye contact with him swear he stared into their soul. Because he does.

[Yasukai Shindo looks out the window of his high rise office at Godzilla, who is right outside looking in. They are looking into each others’ eyes, though Godzilla’s are in shadow. Godzilla looks into Shindo’s eyes as he kills him with his radioactive breath. Shindo opens his arms and accepts his fate.]

#Godzilla #Gojira #kaiju #headcanon #fanfiction #ideas #long post #VERY long post #food mention #tw vomit #tw menstruation #tw feces #tw unsanitary #swearing #violence #water

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elejah-wonderland · 6 years

Text

Always/9

Fanfiction

Part 9

Elijah Mikaelson x reader/Elena Gilbert

AU TVD/TO story a/n: Thanks for reading. I posted it without adding tags. Sorry. 😓 And now I can't do it on phone here for some reason - 😫

😘💕💕

_______________

Weeks after

In California

"To lose oneself is a state that I don’t know how to describe. You feel like nothing is there anymore. You are there, but you are not really, You feel like you are caught up in the riptide and it's pulling you down and you can't do anything to break free. And you just sink. Forever sink. And you wish to swim, to move, to do something, to stop from drowning, but for some reason your legs, your arms are not moving. You hear voices calling you to do so. But you don't. You don't care what they are saying. And then there is nothing. Just nothing"-

Y/N/E wrote in her diary. She put the pen down and looked out to the ocean.

***

At the same time in New York, Elijah put his suit on, adjusting his tie as he looked then at his watch. It had plenty of time to meet his sister for breakfast before work. His phone rang and he answered.

"I will meet you there"- Rebekah said-"sorry, but I will be late a bit"

"Fine"- Elijah replied. Put his phone inside his jacket pocket.

He looked at himself in the mirror and straightened his sleeves.

Flashback

The first phone call after Y/N/E left for California, as soon as she walked in Vicky's holiday home

"Y/N/E-"- Elijah said as he picked up the call.

"Elijah-"- she said and then there was silence. Long silence. And Y/N/E then breaking it with-"I got here ok. I love you."

"I love you, too."

And silence again.

In his therapy session with Camille he voiced their inability to talk.

"We used to talk about everything. And I can feel that something is keeping her locked away. It's like she fell in a coma yet again. But this time I can't do anything. And I saw in her eyes that she was feeling that she was letting me down and I could not persuade her that it wasn't so"

"She had a break down. A silent one. It's not always the case that people scream or get hysterical. Many things happened at once. The loss of a child - even when it is due to a miscarriage can cause a tremendous pain. In her case it is so much worse. We all react differently to loss. Everyone grieves differently. She could feel she had let you down because she had lost the child and she blames herself connecting it to her brother"- Camille said.

"Through her brother?"- Elijah didn't quite understand how.

"The loss happened at the violent attack on her which was connected to her brother- she is transfering it - all the troubles she had with her brother are the cause of her shut down"- Camille continued.

"But she is not to blame for any of it"- Elijah uttered.

"But she unfortunately doesn't see it that way. I do hope she is still seeing a therapist."- Camille concluded-

"She is"- Elijah said.

He opened the conacts icon on his phone and looked at Y/N/E's name on his favourite list. But he didn't make the call.

But then the alert buzz popped out and it was an e-mail from her. It was a video she sent. He clicked the play button and now listened to the song and the messages Y/N/E put inbetween pictures of them-

But you are always here with me Oh inside me❤️ I find my way❤️ Back to you❤️

Calling your name in the midnight hour

Reaching for you from the endless dream

So many miles between us now

But you are always here with me

Two words

In your hands

In your heart❤️

It's whole universe

You are always here with me

Elijah watched it and his heart fluttered, the words filling it with hope and love. ****

Days after

The Mikaelsons felt shattered, but they carried on. The most dangerous currents never could break them, not entirely.

"We don't give up! Remember what father taught us"- Rebekah said to Klaus-"never give up hope!"

"Where is this coming from?"-Klaus wondered-"Oh- is this the wisdom of Dr Salvatore- are you sure dating him is sane?"

"Please- you've all give up on Kol and done everything to ostracized him. It's not right. We have to pull him out of this shit and help Sophie get him back!"

"I have not ostracized him- he has done it. He left his wife, he turned his back on all of us. You've been there, you heard him how he spat on us and said he doesn't want anything to do with us and that is his life! After everything we've done for him- I just haven't got the strength for him anymore"

"Right. Is this your final?"- Rebekah asked.

"It is. I am sorry sister, but he made his choice"- Klaus said-"got to go. See you later"

Klaus hanged up leaving Rebekah fuming. She had always fought for them to stay one united pack of siblings. This time she felt she lost her powers to keep them together.

Elijah now called her.

"I am sorry I have to cancel breakfast. Father needs me in the office asap"- he said.

"What is this today- ditch Rebekah day?"- she said disappointed.

"Rain-check. Sorry got to rush"- Elijah said and hung up.

"Great. When I find the person who put a curse on us- I will not take any hostages"- she thought miffed entering their favourite artisan bakery.

**** The day went on and everyone was wrapped in their work.

Later in the evening, as Caroline finished for the day, she checked her phone smiling at Klaus' message.

"This is the first piece of the map that will lead you to the hidden treasure." - it said.

"Hidden treasure?! Right"- Caroline raised an eyebrow and now pressed the speed-dial.

A second later Klaus picked up saying-"Yes, love-"

-"Do you ever work?"- Caroline said with a sarcastic tone in her voice.

"All the time. So- watched the news. The interview was - well- you slayed him."- he replied.

"Well- they hired me to ask tough questions and keep it real. But now I have a meeting, so the treasure hunt will have to wait till tonight"

"Sounds perfect"- Klaus said smirking happily to himself.

In California, Vicky waited for Elena outside a doctor's practise.

As she saw her she asked immediately how the check up went.

Elena passed her the paper with the blood results.

"What?"- Vicky read and looked at Elena in disbelief.

"Yeah. I had to read it like there times."- Elena said tearing up-"I couldn't believe it. I am pregnant!!"

"Oh, Elena- that is so great!"- Vicky exclaimed.

"I know!"- Elena said smiling-" I don't know why I am crying - it's wonderful, isn'it?"

"It's amazing! I am so happy for you"- Vicky said hugging her friend.

"I can't believe it"- Elena muttered.

Vicky now looked at her friend in tears as well saying-"It's like a double surprise for Elijah."

"I have to change the flight. I need to fligh back asap."- Elena said.

"Yeah- come on. Don't need to pack. I am driving you to the airport now. I'll sed you your stuff on."-Vicky said.

"Yeah, thanks"- Y/NE smiled happily. ****

In New York, Kol drove to the place where the exchange of a large drug shipment was to happen.

"It's now or never"- he thought as he got out of his car.

After the Ball, after his cover got nearly blown, he met by an Agent as he went to his home.

"You will have turn away completely from your family and cut ties with them. Find whatever excuse you can. You have to be believable. We can't afford any mess like it happened tonight. The other guy needs to be sure he has got you in his pocket. Tell me if you can do it now. If not, you have to tell us now"

"I can. I have messed up so many times with my family that they would kick me to the curb."- Kol said.

"Good"- the Agents said-"you're a born trixter. Later"

But was he really a born trixter?

___

Caroline stood in front of the beautiful sailing boat where Klaus was holding his hand out to get on board smiling charmingly at her.

"You could have just sent me the address and the invite- it would have been just as right"- Caroline said still standing on the dock"

"It would not have been half the fun. And I know how you revel in the investigation- I hope you like sailing?"

"Well, I grew up in New Orleans. We have sailing boats down there. My ex was -"- and she stopped there.

"But I doubt he had taken you out in such beauty?"- Klaus said.

"Your confidence has no limits?!"- Caroline remarked.

"None"- Klaus confirmed smirking a bit.

From the first day they met - it was like they entered a dance of Paso Doble. Always so close and always one step away. Klaus figured out immediately that her heart was trempled on, but it didn't discourage him. And he did not push her, not in a way someone else thought and he had told her at the Ball-

"You are not ready to date. I see that. But please allow me to be there. Let's dance. And see where we get at the end of it"

And she went for the dance, then and everytime he had asked her out since. To a gallery opening, to dinner, to one event or the other. And behaved as a perfect gentleman. She was enchanted by him, but still kept her guard.

"So, are you coming on board? Or I should I leave the supper for the fish? I doubt they love cajun"

"No. I am coming on board."- Caroline said taking his hand now.

**** Elijah finished work and looked at the clock. It was nearly ten. He got up and put the tablet aside on the side table. Then walked out to the kitchen and got a beer out. The defeaning silence of the penthouse was nothing new. It was like a normal thing- or? No. This is not the normality he wanted. Not the normality he deserved. Why did the things turn out the way they did? Why him? He had done nothing but be there? Done everything in his manly power to make things better. Why? But there was no answer. Only complicated explications.

He took a swag of the beer and looked out through the window into the night. His thoughts wondered from one moment to the next - and strangely he felt a chill struck his whole body.

Flashback

Wedding night, Mystic Falls

"I want us to promise something here"- Elena said.

"I promise everything!"- Elijah smiled giving her a small kiss as his hands roamed up and down her back.

"Elijah, I am serious"- Elena put both her hands on his head making him look at her.

"Promise, that if any of us stumble along the way for whatever reason- we would be honest about it. If you stop loving me or feel like this is not it- you will tell me and be fair about it- no matter how hard it is"

"What are you talking about? We've been married for about five minutes and you already have worst case scenario that we won't make it?"

"Promise you will always be open about how you feel. Always!"- Elena said.

Elena had her quirky moments, he knew and loved her for it- so he said-

"I promise. Always! I love you. And it will be forever!"- Elijah said-"didn't you hear my heart?"

"Oh, I heard your heart. I am hearing it now, too. It will be forever!"- Elena gazed in his eyes as he swept her up taking her over to bed, both kissing wildly now.

The incisive ringing of his phone brought him back and he went back to the room to answer it.

"What are you doing?"- Rebekah asked.

"Just finished the budget for the new project for father. Having a beer. Drowning my sorrows. Thinking of flying over to California"-Elijah replied.

"No. Let it be. I know you love her like crazy, but no."- Rebekah said-"she wanted time and space. She can have time and space"

"Why did it get so fucked up?"- Elijah muttered.

"I don't know. But I know things will be good again. Right. Stefan and I are in this swanky new restaurant and you should come"

"Thanks, I know you mean well, but I am no third wheel"- Elijah said-"I am going to bed. I had a long day. You know how demanding father can be"

"Yes. That is why I would never work for him. Right. Talk to you tomorrow"

"Yeah, tomorrow"- Elijah said hanging up and went to have a shower. **** At the marina, Klaus and Caroline finished with the very late supper, and commenting about the news of the day.

Caroline swayed up to look at the moon in its round glory.

"I've calculated out for this to be the perfect romantic setting and listened carefully to your forecast guy-"- Klaus remarked having noticed how her eyes twinkled away in the moonlight as he poured them some more champagne.

She turned thr gaze away to Klaus-"How many times have you produced this line?"

"Never. Didn't ever dated a news anchor before"- Klaus said.

"You said you never dated before"- Caroline caught him.

"True. Dating was never my strong point. Elijah did this. I never saw the appeal of it. Until now"- Klaus said.

"Oh, yeah. Now you will tell me that I am very special"

Klaus sighed a little as he took a sip of the champagne-"what did he do to have put you off men in such a manner?"

She looked at Klaus seriously putting the glass on the table-"Thank you for the food"- she stood up and now walked towards the exit part.

Klaus cursed himself for having asked the damned question and hurried after her apologizing for being tactless.

"Please don't leave"- he asked with a regretfully.

Caroline turned around just before the exit and faced him blazing at him-"Your charming moonlight suppers and your-"-she couldn't think what to add as anger and hurt blocked her linguistical skills-"flowers and those blue eyes - can just leave me alone!"

"I really apologize.This was out of order. Please- can we rewind and - Caroline, please- I am in love with you. Don't you see-?"

Caroline stood still. No one had declared it to her like that. So dramatically, so wholeheartedly. And she didn't want to think anymore - be hot and cold. He neared her now and their eyes met not being able to hide what was in their hearts. And they both disappeared in the kiss.

**** Elsewhere, Stefan and Rebekah got out of the taxi.

"Thank you for a nice time"- Rebekah said.

"My pleasure"- Stefan retorted as they walked towards her building.

"Really- I haven't had so much fun since- I din't even remember. And I feel sort if bad as my best friends and my brothers are going through a neverending tough time"-Rebekah babbled.

"I had a great time, too."- Stefan said-" life unfortunately is a labirynth of twists and turns"

And now they stood in front of her building and he took her by the hand and she felt like she was twelve- all the butterlfies inside her stomach flew up as he neared her and kissed her. And if she could fly she would have taken off at that moment. And then her phone crash-landed her back because it wouldn't stop even though she ignored it twice.

"It must be important"- Stefan said-"answer it.

It rang again and Rebekah got it out - seeing it was Sophie she first blurted out that she would call her back but then Sophie's sobbing voice saying Kol was shot made her freeze for a second replying-"How- When-What?"

The next thing she knew was that Stefan put her in a taxi and she was on the phone to Elijah and then trying to get to Klaus, who wasn't answering. **** Y/N/E arrived somewhere around midnight. She got into the taxi. All the way in the car she felt uneasy and was impatient to get home. It seemed like the trip took twice as long. Her emotions were running high and she knew she had to balance them out. So, she focused on a mental game Bonnie taught her when she started feeling anxious. **

Meanwhile, at the hospital, Kol was still undergoing surgery. The FBI Agents who worked with Kol now took the siblings aside explaining them what went off that evening.

"So- you are telling us that Kol- our brother was working for you all this time?"- Rebekah was stunned at the revelation.

Elijah was quiet but tried to get his head round it.

"I sincerely hope he pulls through, He did a great job"- the Agent said before he left them.

Sophie could now tell them that she knew about it all along. But she had to keep it to herself.

"He just had to do it"- Sophie said-"the whole thing with Jeremy was not letting him be."

Both Rebekah and Elijah just comforted Sophie now as she could not calm down, but refused to be given a sedative. Mikael and Esther arrived completely devestated at the news. **** Elena finally arrived to the building. She was home and it felt good even though a strange kind of uneasiness was not letting her go. She got into the elevator and pressed PH.

"Why is everything so slow tonight"- she thought as the elevator seemed to take forever to get up.

As she got out of it eventually, she remembered that she had no keys on her. She was miffed that she had to wake Elijah up as she wanted to surprise him. She rang the doorbell but there was no answer. She rang again and there was nothing.

She thought of calling the doorman for the spare key but she opted to give Elijah a call.

In the hospital, Elijah took his phone and simply answered it without looking who it was-"Yeah?"

"Elijah?"- he could hear Y/N/E's voice that threw him a bit and he authomatically said-"Y/N/E?"

"It's me. Sorry to wake you up, but I don't have my keys on me and can't get in"

"Can't get in?"- he repeated like shell- shocked.

"Yes. I am outside the door. I am here. I've just arrived"- she said.

"Y/N/E- huh, I am not at home. I am at the hospital."

"Hospital?"- she said worryingly.

"Yes. Kol's been shot"- Elijah then said.

"What?"- and the same how- when- what questions followed.

As he briefly explained she made her way to the hospital.

"Did you just talk to Y/N/E?"- Rebekah said having overheard his conversation.

"Yes. She's back-" 'Elijah said.

"Really? Just like that?"- Rebekah looked a bit gone out at Elijah.

Klaus and Caroline then appeared not long after together.

Elijah now went to get some refreshments for everyone as Y/N/E arrived.

It was somewhat surreal seeing her there. This was not something he expected.

They stood for a second as if they had been apart for a thousand years and yet at the same time not even a nanosecond. They went into a hug. Firm, warm, healing.

"I am so sorry"- Y/N/E whispered holding her husband tightly. "He is tough. He will pull through." "He will"- Y/N/E said as she now moved a little out of the hug.

They moved out of the hug slightly. Y/N/E put her palm on his cheek saying-"I missed you- so much"

He embraced her again, more warmly than before.

The moment broke as Rebekah came up to them announcing that Kol is out of the OR. He was still critical, though.

They suggested then to all of them to go home and rest. Esther and Rebekah stayed on. Rooms were arranged for them to sleep if they needed some rest as this was a private hospital, for which the Mikaelsons regularily donated. **** After the night they had, both Y/N/E and Elijah just dropped into the bed. Whatever talk and all that needed to resurface had to wait as they needed to refresh.

Their phones woke them up at some time in the morning. Elijah had Rebekah on the phone and Y/N/E Vicky.

Elijah stayed on in the room, but Y/N/E ventured out to the kitchen. As she informed her friend about Kol, she started the coffee and put the bagels into the toaster.

"I don't know yet. He is on the phone to Rebekah. Yeah- we're hoping for the best. No. How could I tell him? How could I burst out in the middle of everything that I'm pregnant- "

Elijah now stood at the door and said astonished-

“You’re pregnant?!”

____

#elijah mikaelson #elenaxelijah #elijah mikaelson x reader #fanfiction #tvd fanfiction #elena gilbert #alternative universe

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livvywrites · 6 years

Text

11/11/11 tag

I was tagged by the lovely @waterfallwritings. Thank you so much <3

1. How do you come up with ideas for your WIPs?

I put my headphones on, pop some music on, and pace around. And then I play pretend.

No, really, that’s what I do. I pretend to be my characters, in different situations, and I just... play around. I mess with things. I put them in modern situations. I put them in my favorite TV shows/books/movies/games. I have them switch places with a character in that show/book/movie/game. Sometimes I find them narrating their backstory to their future kid, or their friends, or whoever. I dunno. All sorts of crazy situations.

When that doesn’t help, I go and read. Or watch something. Or play something. I give it a rest for a bit. Something eventually comes to me.

2. How do you get past gaps in the plot?

Same answer as above, I guess? Letting myself really feel the characters, really be them, helps me view the situation as they would. I can generally resolve gaps pretty well that way!

3. What motivates you to keep writing?

My characters.

Sometimes it feels like they live in my head, just waiting for me to tell their story. I think about it all the time.

But other than that...

I mean, I was hospitalized a bunch as a kid. I got pneumonia a lot. And bronchitis (which developed into the former). A common cold could turn into bronchitis. I was a sickly kid with a terrible immune system. So I read. I read a lot. I read anything I could get my hands on. (Word of advice: Jurrassic Park and Stephen King novels are not really appropriate novels for a 10 year old to read. Or at least not one who hates gore. Like me.) A lot of those books touched me, influenced me and how I behaved growing up. I want to do that for other people. I want to write the novel they pick up and find themselves needing.

Also, you know what?

Sometimes my writing is pretty damn good.

4. Do you do any other kind of creative writing?

I write poetry!! My favorite poems are:

Death (lightly nsfw)

Wolf-Women (feminist poetry with werewolf themes)

Lonely Ghosts (Travelin’ Endlessly)

This poem I wrote about the main character of TMQ

I also roleplay for a favorite fandom of mine, and I write fanfiction. (You can find my stuff on my main blog, which is linked in my bio.)

5. Do you have any other creative hobbies besides writing?

I like to take photos! Usually of flowers and such. I’ll reblog this with some of my favorite ones~

I also like editing photos. By which I mean throwing lots of filters on them and trying to make them look ~artsy.~

6. What do you do when you’re stuck on a scene and don’t know how to get it out / write it?

I whip out my brackets. And I write a short scene description. Here’s an example off the top of my head--

[Fight scene. CHARACTER A gets injured pretty badly and begins to sway. CHARACTER B is so absorbed by their lover being hurt that they don’t notice when CHARACTER C is grabbed behind them. By the time they realized C has been kidnapped... it’s too late. CHARACTER A dies in their arms, but not before making them promise to save CHARACTER C.]

That’s a really emotional scene, fraught with tension and violence. Maybe I wasn’t feeling it, so I skipped it. But I want to remember what I was doing, hence the summary. Then I move on to the next scene. What the next scene would be in this scenario, I have no idea.

7. How do you decide how to end your WIP?

I’ve never really tried to put it into words, but because you asked, I’m gonna try.

So the first thing I think about is what my protagonist wants. In THE MARTYR QUEEN, Alinora wants her home back. She wants her people free again, and her family/loved ones back. Unfortunately, most of said loved ones are dead. But she can still save her people, so that’s her primary goal. To save her people, she needs to defeat Kai’os, and get him off of her throne/out of her homeland.

Now, let’s look at the antagonist. Kai’os wants to end the world and start a new one. Well--he doesn’t really want to do that, but he believes it’s a necessary evil, because that’s what Fate told him. What he really wants is to keep his family--his two daughters--safe. And that’s how he can best do that. According to Fate. In order to end the world, he has to be able to get to the World Tree. And to get to that, he needs Alinora.

So obviously, at the ending, the two of them are going to clash.

But what happens during/after the clash? Well, now, that’s where I have to think about the OTHER things going on. Alinora’s personality, for instance. What her friends are doing. The “bigger” players in the game--Death and Fate. What I have planned for the next books, and what I need to have happen for Alinora’s character arc.

I hope that was a good explanation ^^;

8. When in the process of writing do you decide how its going to end? Or do you kind of just wait til you get there?

I generally know my endings before I’m even halfway through the story. TMQ’s I knew before I even started writing it. Sapphire Dreaming’s I realized pretty early in the game as well.

9. Why did you decide to join writeblr?

I have been looking for a supportive writing community for so long. I found one on a fantasy forum called Worldsmyths that’s lovely, but people are more apt to talk about the technical aspects of writing on there. Which is great, and all of the advice on there is really good and well thought out. But I also really, really like hearing about other people’s WIPs and talking about mine in turn.

So when I found out that was how Tumblr’s writeblr worked... that’s when I decided to start getting involved in the community. And I’ve found so many WIPs that way!!! And found people who like my ideas too, which was like: what? Because while I’ve met supportive people before this is different. And it’s really nice.

10. What’s your favourite food?

Favorite... food?

I have to... I have to pick?

But, but ToT I can’t.

I’ll try anyway though, I guess, because you asked :P

Let’s see... my favorite dessert is a toss up between tiramasu and cheesecake, but I also really, really like brownies.

Breakfast wise, it’s hard to go wrong with blueberry pancakes or a bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich. Or omelets.

For lunch, I really like sandwiches. Lately I’ve been on a subway kick, and I’ve been ordering a tomato basil wrap with rotisserie chicken, mozz cheese, spinach leaves, ranch dressing, and green peppers. It’s so good.

For supper... Oh, jeez. I eat a lot of chicken and pasta, but I also really like steak and bbq!!

I’m not a big fan of fruit, but I like blackberries and raspberries!! I also really like peaches and cherries.

I love vegetables. My favorites are peas, broccoli, and cucumbers.

...what. was that not in the spirit of the question?

11. If you had to kill off a character in your WIP, who would it be and why?

Um.

So in Sapphire Dreaming, if I had to kill a character off... fuck. I dunno. Maddock, I guess? Side characters are okay right? His death could be really fun, though it would absolutely destroy Aura.

I mean, if I had to choose a main character... I guess it’d be Chase. I love him a lot, I really do, and he is important to the story but. I can’t get rid of Aura or Melantha or [SPOILER].

In The Martyr Queen...

Um.

I actually answer that question in the story itself, so, uh.

I’m just gonna. Move on to the tags & new questions now.

I tag:@witchywrite; @marniebalboa; @quartzses; @she-writes-love; @idreamonpaper (lemme know if you want to be added or removed. yes i know this isn’t eleven people. get nervous about tagging people in things ^^;)

My questions are:

1. Do you have any ideas for future WIPs you’re excited about?

2. What’s your favorite part of writing?

3. What’s your favorite aspect of the genre you write?

4. What themes/tropes do you find show up in the majority of your ideas? (E.g. found family, belonging, love triangles, etc.)

5. Do you have a routine or ritual you do before writing? (E.g. lighting a candle, putting on a playlist, making a specific beverage)

6. What would your ideal place to write look like?

7. Do you sort your characters into, say Hogwarts Houses or Meyers Briggs Types? (Or other kinds of archetypes?) If so, which characters fall where?

8. Have you ever participated in a character chat? (An almost roleplay chat where you introduce your characters to other characters. Sometimes they’re focused around a time limit with specific questions, as on Twitter, but sometimes they’re more free form.)

9. How much prewriting do you do before you start writing?

10. What’s the last book you finished reading? Would you recommend it?

11. What’s your favorite piece of writing advice, or favorite quote about writing?

#tag games #thank you for tagging me!!!#i love this particular tag game #((i love all tag games))

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animakupo · 6 years

Text

Shortcake vs. Beefcake (Gladio x Reader)

i can stay up late working on a fic and yet i can’t even extend the same courtesy to my actual work. Nice™

I tried following the canon timeline for this one, just because a lot of the story was built up within the timeframe before the FFXV game. Also, apparently the whole Gladio vs. drunkard really was the reason for the scar on his face, but I changed it up a bit to accommodate the story.

This one’s a bit more similar to how I usually wrote fics prior to my 9845798-year hiatus from writing fanfiction. wow, yay, party on, woohoo, i’ll edit this later bc it’s almost 3am zzz

word count: 5.8k+, fluff, angst??? kinda slow burn mmm

Whenever people saw you and Gladiolus Amicitia together, they often mistook the two of you as siblings. While it annoyed you to no end, it couldn’t be helped. You often bickered with one another — playful or otherwise — and your substantial height difference only made you look more like a little sister than anything.

Seeing as your mother was a member of King Regis’ council, you were privy to occasional access into the Citadel. At least, whenever your mother was summoned to another council meeting, which grew in frequency over the years due to the continued strain with Niflheim. Thus, the Citadel became a playground of sorts for you growing up.

The royal family’s staff didn’t mind looking after you during those lengthy council meetings so long as you were well-behaved and didn’t get your hands on anything too expensive-looking. For the most part, you acquiesced to their wishes, especially with the threat of being banned from the Citadel — something your mother often imparted on you before heading off to the council room — looming over your naive head.

It was an empty threat, of course, but you were too young to comprehend that.

Many of your childhood afternoons were spent in the garden, filling up coloring books and devouring page after page of your fairy tales. Sometimes, when you thought the royal staff weren’t looking, you would explore the Citadel on your own accord. It was through this did you first encounter Prince Noctis, as well as his Shield, the mighty Gladiolus Amicitia.

One day, on one of your Citadel expeditions, you had somehow stumbled upon the Prince’s training room. Though he appeared to be significantly smaller than his opponent, you were in awe of how well he seemed to hold his own. Upon spotting you shyly observing from the doorway, the Prince became distracted for just a second too long, causing Gladio to send his wooden floor flying across the floor.

At this, you rather impulsively sprinted towards the Prince, opening your short arms as a means of screening him from his own Shield. “Stop bullying the Prince!” you cried, glaring at the much taller young man in front of you.

Gladio raised his brow, both in surprise (‘Who let in this kid?’ he thought to himself) and in mild annoyance at being accused of “bullying” the Prince. “I’m not bullying him,” he replied, walking over to where Noctis’ sword had slid off to. “I’m training him.”

You blinked owlishly as your arms slowly fell to your sides. Unbeknownst to you, Noctis was snickering silently from behind at your accusation towards Gladio. Hearing the Prince get back on his feet, you turned to him, as if seeking confirmation on what Gladio had just said.

Though Noctis appeared little against the strong build of Gladio, he actually had a good head over you, making him appear much taller than he actually was. You stared up at him with a pout, feeling slightly embarrassed at how you had wrongfully accused Gladio of being a bully.

“Don’t worry about me,” he assured you. “I’m fine. And you’re right — Gladio sure is a bully!”

And thus was the beginning of your friendship with the Crown Prince of Lucis.

Being of same age, you and Noctis got along spectacularly well. He had even introduced you to his father during one of your games of hide-and-seek. You offered a polite curtsy to King Regis, to which he responded with a hearty laugh and a small bow of his own.

“I like your dad,” you told Noctis. “He’s a nice king.”

Noctis shrugged as he sipped on his apple juice. “I like him too.”

Although your friendship with Noctis flourished, you couldn’t say the same about your friendship — if you could really call it that — with Gladio.

There was just something about the Shield that brought out every competitive bone from your body. Whenever he and Noctis sparred, you were often spurred on by this inexplicable need to take down Gladio with your own wooden sword. It was usually after his sessions with the Prince did you challenge him for a one-on-one match.

Having no practice or background in swordsmanship, you were — as expected by Gladio (and Noctis, if he was being completely honest) — frequently defeated more often than not. Despite facing the bitter sting of your loss over and over again, you never faltered, always coming in with another challenge for Gladio the next time you saw him.

Gladio had to hand it to you, though. For a small brat, you were pretty determined to conquer him, one way or another.

“Better luck next time, shortcake,” is what he would often tell you as you wallowed in your consistent defeat.

“Shut up, meathead,” was your usual retort, accompanied by a scowl and a huff.

Your competitive streak against against Gladio was not restricted to just sparring matches. Sometimes, you would challenge him to races. (He was always faster than you thanks to those blasted long limbs of his.) Other times, you would see who could do the most push ups in a minute. (You usually gave up after the third count.)

One time, you challenged him to an eating contest. Unfortunately, you challenged him to an eating contest with Cup Noodles. Basically, this meant that you were a goner even before you opened the first pack of Cup Noodles.

You vowed never again to consume another cup of the wretched noodles if it was the last thing you did.

As to why you continued to challenge Gladio — despite his blatant advantage in physicality — remained a mystery to Noctis. But hey, if it got him out of training, then he was all for it.

“Just give it up already, shortcake,” Gladio taunted. “Face it: you’re never gonna win against me.”

‘I will one day,’ you thought, sending a glare towards the smug Amicitia. ‘Mark my words, you stupid meathead. I WILL beat you someday!’

Over time, your challenges with Gladio became a typical occurrence at the Citadel. You later on befriended Noctis’ royal adviser, Ignis Scientia, who found your nearly daily provocations towards Gladio more amusing than anything. You liked Ignis — much more than Gladio, that was for sure — especially whenever he had some pastries to offer after testing out a recipe or two in the royal kitchens.

Still, your competitiveness towards Gladio never wavered.

You continued to challenge him. To his credit, Gladio continued to accept these (sometimes absurd) dares. But, you would still fall at his hands. It was a vicious and never-ending cycle.

“AGH!” you screeched, throwing your hands up in the air as you fell in step with Ignis, who was escorting Noctis to his chambers for another session of tutoring. “Why is he so good at everything he does?”

Ignis readjusted the spectacles on his face. “He has to be,” he said, opening the door to Noctis’ bedroom. “He is the future king’s Shield, after all.”

“Hmph,” you sulked, laying your things out on Noctis’ bed to get started on your own homework for the day.

Noctis sighed. “When are you ever going to learn?”

You squinted at your best friend with a pout. “Never.”

When you were 13 and Gladio was 16, he — for the very first time in the history of your relationship — declined a challenge, claiming he had an appointment to get to and didn’t have time for your “childish games.”

This struck a nerve with you, as you never appreciated being treated like a kid. Sure, you looked like one, and your short stature — along with your babyface — did nothing to help this, but it didn’t mean that you were still a child. You were 13 years old already, for Ramuh’s sake!

“Betcha you’re just scared that this’ll be the day you’ll taste defeat,” you provoked.

Gladio scoffed. “Aren’t you tired of always getting beaten by me?”

“Today’s the day, meathead,” you declared. “I can feel it in my bones. Today’s the day that I’ll beat you at something once and for all!”

It was only a year or two ago did you begin to seriously practice your weaponry, not just as a means of someday beating Gladio, but also to pave the road towards your current top aspiration: becoming a member of the Kingsglaive.

You had always admired the Glaives ever since you caught a few of them sparring during one meeting of your mother’s with their captain. They just looked so cool and powerful, and that was exactly what you wanted to be when you grew up.

No one had to know about your tiny crush on the one they called “Ulric,” though.

That felt like almost ages ago. Now, at the age of 13, you were still growing into your body, whereas Gladio was well on his way towards developing his physique into quite the powerful build. His jaw was already becoming much more pronounced, his hair was growing longer, and during one of his sparring sessions with Noctis, you had even noticed that his muscles appeared to be even more distinguished than how you remembered to be.

Gladio may have looked stronger and bigger than when you first met him, but this didn’t deter you in the slightest. “C’mon, Gladio,” you pleaded for once. “Please? This’ll be the last time, I swear!”

“I’ve never heard you sound so desperate for me,” Gladio teased as he set aside the last of the scattered equipment in the training room. “Sorry, shortcake, but I really can’t today. Can I take a rain check?”

You were disappointed and annoyed, but you knew you had to let the Shield go. His appointment must be something really urgent if he couldn’t spare a few measly minutes with you.

“Fiiine,” you relented. “Where do you have to be that’s so important, anyway?”

Gladio sent you a smirk. “Not that it’s any of your business,” he said with a bit of a cocky lilt to his voice, “but I’ve got a date tonight that I have to get ready for. See ya, shortcake.”

You weren’t sure why his response upset you to the point of near tears, but ever since that day, you pledged never to challenge Gladiolus Amicitia ever again.

For the most part, you managed to maintain your self-imposed ban on ever challenging Gladio again. It was something the people around you — namely Noctis and Ignis — noticed, but for Gladio himself, it was something he used as ammunition to aggravate you even further.

“What, no confident speech about taking me down today, shortcake?” the Shield jeered when you showed up at the Citadel one afternoon.

“Whatever,” you hissed, rolling your eyes at him. “I have better things to do, that’s all.”

“And what would that be?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, beefcake,” you shot back, “but I’ve got a date with Iggy today.”

At this, Gladio’s brows shot up. “Okay, first of all: beefcake?” Turning to Ignis, he said, “And really, Iggy? You’re dating this squirt?”

“Hey!” you objected hotly. “I am not a squirt!”

Despite already being 14 years old, you still appeared to be rather small for your age, making Gladio all the more relentless with his quips about your height. It didn’t help that Gladio only seemed to grow and grow the older he got, which meant he towered over you more and more as the years passed.

“I’d like to clarify that we do not, in fact, have any romantic plans together,” Ignis said. “However, we will be kept busy this afternoon in the training room. I’ve offered my services in the art of dual-wielding to our young friend here.”

When Ignis began his training in preparation of formally joining the Crownsguard, you sought him out, mostly due to his expertise in your weapon of choice. Taking after your mother, you had an affinity towards daggers, preferring short but quick attacks. Who else to further your training to join the Kingsglaive than Ignis, then?

“Ah, gotcha. Noct and I will give you two some privacy.” Gladio wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, causing Ignis to sigh in exasperation at his friend’s antics.

“We will?” Noctis parroted, lost with what his Shield was getting at.

“C’mon.” The resident muscle head pulled the Prince by the collar. “We can spar outside. It’ll switch things up a bit. And you,” — he turned to you just then — “I expect your skills to improve after a few training sessions with Iggy here.”

You smirked. “Ready to get your ass handed to you, beefcake?”

Gladio snorted. “Bring it on, shortcake. Oh, and thanks for the new nickname. I’m flattered that you think so highly of my anatomy. I’ve worked hard on it, after all.”

Perhaps only Ignis noticed it then, seeing as he was the one closest to you in proximity at the time, but you were definitely red in the face after hearing Gladio’s parting comment.

Unlike your beefcake of a rival, you weren’t much for the dating scene and romance in general. In fact, your first date — if you could even call it that — took place when you were already 19. An old classmate of yours asked you out, and you thought he was pretty cute, so you agreed to catching a movie together over the weekend.

The date was… a disaster, to say the least. This being your first venture into the world of dating, you were a nervous wreck, and throughout the film, your date would obnoxiously make comments scene after scene like some wannabe movie critic. It irked you to no end.

Needless to say, you declined his offer to take you out for some drinks after the film ended. In spite of your blatant rejection, your date was nice enough to insist he take you home. However, wanting to spare yourself of any more moments of awkwardness, you politely declined, claiming your house was only a few blocks away.

Though reluctant, your date finally let you go after a rather uncomfortable parting between the two of you. ‘That… was the absolute worst!’ you thought to yourself, quickly making your way home.

Perhaps tonight was just not the night for you, because as you neared your side of the neighborhood, you accidentally bumped into a stranger in your haste to reach your living quarters.

“Sorry!” you reflexively called out, trying to navigate yourself away from the man.

Unfortunately for you, the stranger was not so forgiving, as he harshly grabbed your shoulder and spat, “Watch where you’re going, bitch!”

You were immediately on guard the moment you caught a whiff of alcohol from the man. Of course, his derogatory slur only caused your temper to flare. How dare he talk to you that way? Intoxicated or not, he had no right to talk to you in such a rude manner, let alone insult you.

“Let go of me,” you said, trying to keep your tone even despite the slight tremble of rage that was weaved into your voice. You didn’t think it wise to provoke someone so inebriated, especially since you were unarmed. There was the option of using your fists, but really, was this drunkard even worth it?

“You know what? I don’t wanna,” he slurred. You took notice of the rather delirious and borderline lecherous look in his eyes — the telltale signs that you needed to get out of there, pronto.

“I said let go!”

You thought taking on this drunk stranger would be a walk in the park. Considering how much time and effort you’ve dedicated to your fighting skills over the years, defending yourself from creeps on the street should come as no challenge whatsoever.

What you weren’t anticipating was for this jackass to grope your chest.

Never in all your 19 years had you ever been violated so… so… you didn’t even know what to call it. You were shocked and frozen at the spot, becoming all the more terrified when the man pulled out a knife from pocket. All your training flew right out the window the moment he took a hold of your… your…

When did you start crying?

The drunkard licked his lips, dragging the side of his knife across his chest. “Now, be a good girl for me and-“

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?!”

In your hysteria, you were completely lost to the world. All you could hear were punches, groans, a lot of yelling, and the sound of metal being tossed to the ground. It was only after you felt a warm hand on your shoulder did you manage to snap out of your blankness.

Thinking it was your assaulter, you retaliated with a scream, tearfully crying out, “Please, don’t!”

“Hey, hey.” The voice was rough, but there was a gentle tone to it. “It’s me. It’s Gladio.”

The familiar name managed to pull you out of your cowering. “G-Gladio…?”

The young man nodded. “Gladio.”

With a sob, you slammed yourself into his chest, feeling instantly comforted by the feel of his bulky arms around you. “Gla-Gladio, I was… I-I-“ You felt terrified. Embarrassed. Dirty. “I-I’m… I…”

“Shh, you’re safe now,” Gladio cooed, rubbing your back in a soothing manner. “He won’t ever touch you again. You’re okay.” You felt his hand rest on the back of your head, keeping your face securely rested against his body. “I’m sorry. I won’t let anyone ever hurt you again. I promise.”

All you could do was wail, allowing Gladio to absorb your cries and having him become your shield for the night.

Things between you and Gladio changed after that dreadful encounter with the drunkard. You had apologized profusely after coming to the realization that your longtime — albeit unofficial — rival took a nasty blow to the face when he defended your honor.

The scar looked painful, but Gladio assured you that he wore it with pride. “Don’t worry about it.” He waved you off with an easy smile, ruffling your hair in the process. “Women love battle scars.”

His comment made you scoff, but nevertheless, it eased the tension in your chest. “Gladio, I…” You let out a deep breath, taking a hold of his hand in your much smaller ones. “Thank you. If you hadn’t been there that night, I-I would’ve…”

“Don’t,” he interrupted, giving you a sharp and warning stare. “Don’t go there. You’re safe, and that’s all that matters.”

Although the antics and banter between the two of you continued on like normal, the air you felt around Gladio felt different all of a sudden.

Jokes on your height went on as they usually did (“Need help with that, shortcake?” was a consistent offer whenever you had to stretch on your tiptoes in order to grab something on a shelf that was just out of your reach), but the shared glances between the two of you were friendlier. Softer.

You still competed with Gladio on the smallest of things, but they were much more lighthearted and comforting more than anything. At some point, you even sought out Gladio’s company with no underlying motive other than to spend time with him.

You didn’t realize it at the time, but this was the beginning of your romantic feelings towards Gladiolus Amicitia.

Developing feelings for Gladio felt almost burdensome to you. For one, you knew he’d never see you as anything other than a little sister. You were certain that you were just Iris 2.0 to him. Not that there was anything wrong with Iris; you loved that girl to death.

It was just frustrating having to keep your feelings at bay whenever you were around Gladio, because really, in his current state of physicality, how could you even resist this beautiful specimen who laid out his muscles for all the world to see?

It didn’t help at all that your height difference — paired with your incessant bickering, as endearing as it was for the both of you — made you look more like a charge he had to look after rather than a potential love interest worth considering.

It might’ve been naive of you, but you held onto your feelings for Gladio anyway, unrequited as they were.

“I’m still going to beat you one day, Gladio,” you swore, taking another swig of your drink on the eve of Noct’s 20th birthday.

“I hope that day comes soon,” the Shield teased with boisterous laughter. “I’m not getting any younger, you know.”

“Can’t the two of you take it down a notch for once?” Noctis groaned. Though he was used to your empty promises of “I’m-going-to-beat-you-one-day” towards Gladio by now, he at least wished that he could be spared of such words on own his birthday, at the very least.

“Someone sure is grumpy,” Prompto teased as he took a random photo of his best friend and his ever-so-permanent pout.

“I can assure you,” Ignis addressed Prompto, “Noct is always grumpy.”

This caused a surge of laughs across your circle, much to the Prince’s chagrin. “Cut it out you guys!” Noctis whined, only leading the rest of you (sans Ignis at this point, because of course only he could stay composed at any given time) towards even more peals of laughter.

Once your noises died down to some chuckling, Gladio suddenly nudged your side, prompting you to turn your gaze from your empty cup to his amber eyes. “What?”

“So,” Gladio started, “what’s it feel like to be officially part of the Crownsguard now?”

Despite your initial ambitions of joining the Kingsglaive, your mother — along with a few other influential parties, a.k.a. Ignis, Gladio, and even the Marshal himself — convinced you that you would be a much better fit in the Crownsguard instead. As the next in line to rule Lucis, Noctis needed his own set of guards, and it was unanimously agreed on that you would make the perfect addition next to Ignis and Gladio — and Prompto, soon enough — in the Crownsguard.

It took a little bit of persuasion (and, okay, maybe a little bit of good-natured provocation from Gladio), but you were eventually swayed into setting your eyes towards becoming a member of the Crownsguard itself.

Once you were decided, Gladio quickly took you under his wing in order to enhance your combat skills beyond not just what you already knew, but what you were comfortable with.

“Weeell,” you drew out. “It feels great, to say the least. Who wouldn’t be happy to be done training with a beefcake like you?”

“I’m giving you a five-second start, shortcake.”

You heeded Gladio’s warning, squealing as you zoomed past the rest of the gang to stay away from the Shield’s clutches.

“We’re near the treasure!” you cheered. “I can feel it!”

As fans of the Assassin’s Creed series, you, Noctis, and Prompto were beyond excited for the Assassin’s Festival being held in Lestallum. Not only were your assassin’s robes a nice touch, the slew of festivities to enjoy made everything all the more entertaining for you and your friends.

Well, it did for the most part. There was just one thing that continued to bother you at the back of your mind…

“I. Am. Disgusted!” Prompto scoffed at the sight of Gladio flirting with yet another woman during the duration of the festival.

You faltered at the mere thought of Gladio getting cozy with the women here, but what could you do? This was the resident ladykiller, after all. There was a reason why you called Gladio “beefcake,” and he was definitely taking advantage of his assets as he charmed one girl after another.

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” you gagged. “Besides, we’ve got better things to look at other than Gladio flirting with anything that breathes.”

The quest to fulfill the festival’s treasure hunt was a bit of a long-winded one, but once you all solved the mystery at hand, the fruits of your labor made everything worth it.

“Well, that was fun,” Noctis commented at the end of the quest.

Ignis concurred with a nod. “Indeed.”

Being a massive fan of Assassin’s Creed, it seemed Noctis still wasn’t done with celebrating the festival, as he suggested that your group continue on with a few more rounds of games. Prompto latched onto this idea immediately, especially at the suggestion that they all go for a few Chocobo races.

“Count me in!” Prompto whooped, already giddy at the thought of getting to ride his favorite animal yet again.

Noctis turned to you, as if seeking approval. You nodded with a smile. “Why not? The night’s still young. Iggy?”

“C’mon, Specs,” Noctis egged on. “One race won’t kill you.”

Ignis shrugged. “I suppose a race or two wouldn’t hurt,” he conceded, to which Prompto cheered excitedly. “But I do believe it’s best we retire to the hotel soon. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

“Aye, aye, captain!” Prompto saluted, the grin on his face growing all the more. Addressing Gladio, the blond inquired, “What about you, big guy?”

You didn’t think it was possible for Gladio to further aggravate you for the night, but alas, how wrong you were in that assumption. “Actually, I’m meeting someone in a few minutes,” he declared, sounding somewhat smug. “You guys go on ahead.”

Indifferent, Noctis shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

“Keep it in your pants, big guy!” Prompto called, already racing Noctis towards the Chocobo stables.

Pushing his glasses up his nose, Ignis turned to you and asked, “Shall we?”

Your other three companion might not have minded — perhaps they were used to this side of Gladio by now — but you, on the other hand, were seething. Getting to enjoy festival activities was practically a luxury by now, especially with the Nifs always on your tails. Yet here was Gladio acting all high and mighty, declining the offer to spend time with his friends for a quick romp with a stranger?

You were absolutely livid.

And, okay, maybe a little jealous, but you were definitely more upset than anything.

“I’ll catch up with you in a bit,” you ground out. “I’m going to have a word with that dumb beefcake first.”

Ignis sighed. There was no doubt that your impending confrontation with Gladio was bound to be rather explosive to say the least, but it wasn’t really his affair to meddle with. Besides, he had his other kids — a.k.a. Noctis and Prompto — to look after. Who knows what those two could stir up when left unsupervised?

“Might I advise you not to make too much of a scene?” Ignis proposed. “We wouldn’t want to bring any more attention to us as it is.” At that, he left you to your own devices.

When you caught up to Gladio, you found him leaning towards a hooded woman who was backed up against a wall. The sight of the two of them being much too close for comfort made your blood boil.

“HEY, BEEFCAKE!” you hollered obnoxiously, disrupting the intimate bubble of privacy that Gladio had been sharing with the woman.

The large man groaned. “What now?”

“I’d like a word with you.”

He grumbled, irritated that he was being interrupted for the umpteenth time tonight. “This better be worth it.” Turning to his female companion, he said in a disgustingly flirtatious tone, “I’ll be right back, sweetheart.”

“Don’t keep me waiting too long,” the woman crooned, batting her eyelashes at Gladio.

You wanted to barf right then and there.

Once the two of you found a more private corner near the Leville, Gladio crossed his arms and glared at you. “This better be good, shortcake.”

With a stinging look of your own, you said, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Gladio stared at you incredulously. “Me?”

“Yes, you!” You poked at his chest, the frustration towards the man in front you steadily rising. “Here we are wanting to celebrate the Assassin’s Festival as a group, and yet you ditch us — your friends, need I remind you — for a quick fuck?”

Gladio’s eyes hardened at your choice of words. “What I do with my time is none of your business,” he retorted. “Besides, we spend so much time together on the road as it is.”

“What the hell are you insinuating?” you spat venomously. “Oh, are you sick of our company already? Is that what it is?”

“That’s not what I said and you know it!” Gladio snarled. His eyes were ablaze with anger, but this only spurred you on even more.

“Then why would you rather spend the night with some… some stranger than with us?! Why go chasing skirts for something so meaningless when you could do so much more with your time?”

“And what do you propose, huh?” he growled. “What, wanna compete with me on another one of your dumb challenges?” Gladio chuckled almost mockingly, the sound making dread and unease settle in your chest. “No matter what you say, you’re never gonna beat me, you know. You’ll never be good enough.”

You didn’t know you had it in you to deliver a sucker punch that would send Gladio reeling, but it happened.

“Fuck you,” was all that left your mouth before you hightailed it out of there.

If he was being honest, Gladio didn’t know what came over him.

Despite the fact that everything you said was true, he had refused to back down, especially with his ego being afflicted by your statements. He wanted to counter with some painful remarks of his own, even if he didn’t mean a single word of it.

‘Good going, dumbass,’ Gladio thought to himself, massaging his sore jaw. ‘That was one helluva punch, though.’

His hot date long forgotten, Gladio searched high and low for you. Still, you were as evasive as ever. Before long, he retreated back to his shared hotel room, thinking it best that he give you your space for the time being.

It thus came as a surprise when, upon entering the room he shared with all of you, Gladio found you seated on the bed. By the looks of it, you had just taken a shower and were getting ready to go to sleep, what with your damp hair and pajama-clad body.

What really gripped at Gladio’s heart was how broken you looked. Your eyes were swollen, an obvious indication that you had been crying. You looked so… so defeated. The sight of you made Gladio regret everything that came out of his big mouth during your very heated exchange.

He took a step towards you, and this was enough to pull you out of your daze. Your eyes met, but only momentarily, as you turned your back towards Gladio and refused to face him any longer.

Anxiously, Gladio ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m-“

“Save it,” you croaked, rubbing at your eyes as another sniff escaped you.

Even your voice sounded so shattered. It only served to make Gladio feel all the more worse. He sighed dejectedly. “Listen, I know I’m the last person you wanna see right now-“

“That’s just scraping the surface.”

“-but I just wanted to apologize for earlier.” The bed dipped with Gladio’s weight right next to you. “I didn’t mean any of it, I swear.”

Being so close to Gladio, especially after being burned by him so recently, sent your heart into a frenzy. Taking a shaky breath, you whimpered, “You hurt me.”

Gladio frowned, feeling more and more despicable about himself. “I know, and I’m so sorry.”

“Y-you… you promised.” You were wailing now. Wiping the tears from your face soon became a futile action at how much you were crying. “You pr-promised you wouldn’t let any-anyone hur-hurt me again.”

Gladio stilled, his fists balling in anger towards himself. How could he forget such an important promise he made to you not too long ago? He felt like such a scumbag. “Some Shield I am, huh?” he mumbled sourly. “I can’t even protect the girl I’m in love with from myself.”

You froze at his sudden declaration. “Wha…? What?” You couldn’t help but turn to him then, your mouth agape in disbelief. He didn’t just… did he?

“I love you,” Gladio said sternly. Deeply. Surely. He held your teary gaze and let out a long exhale before continuing. “This… probably wasn’t the best way to go about with it, but I guess the cat’s outta the bag.”

Your eyes widened. “Ar-are you… you’re not joking, are you?”

“Why would I joke around with my feelings?”

“But… you’ve never… with me…” You were stumbling all over your words. “Since when?”

Gladio paused. You could tell he was going over the details in his head. Finally, he answered, “Probably a little after you started training with Iggy. But I don’t think I was really sure about my feelings until the night I got this.” He pointed at the trademark scar on his face. “After that, I was already certain that I was in love with you.”

Your hands were trembling. Gladiolus Amcitia, in love with you? Never in your wildest dreams did you think it was possible that he would ever reciprocate your feelings. By the looks of it though, it seems he did — and tenfold, at that.

You were still hurting a bit from his harsh words earlier, but there was no denying the heat in your cheeks that steadily intensified. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

He shrugged. “Didn’t wanna scare you off, especially not after that night. Then life just got in the way, and I didn’t really know if it was the right time, what with everything going on right now.”

It was silent between the two of you for a while. Maybe you were quiet for a beat too long, because Gladio suddenly took ahold of your face in his hands and dropped his voice to a whisper. “Say something. Please.”

There was a poisonous seed that had been planted in your head, and it was something you needed to clear out before moving forward with Gladio. In a voice that sounded so incredibly sad to his ears, you questioned, “Am I good enough?”

This was enough to break him. “Yes, Astrals, yes.” He was littering your face with kisses now, as if trying to cleanse any trace of the tears and heartbreak that he had caused. “You will always be more than enough.”

Gladio pulled you to him then, and you allowed him to do so, opening your arms not just to embrace him, but to accept his apology and simply open your heart to him fully and unconditionally.

“I love you, Gladio.”

He drew back slightly in order to gaze deeply into your eyes. “You might be a lot smaller than me,” he said, “but your heart will always be much, much bigger than I’ll ever be.”

When Ignis divulged to Noctis and Prompto that a storm was brewing between you and Gladio, they had expected the worst. Suffice to say, they were in for a bit of a shock when they found the two of you tangled in each other with your lips locked rather passionately.

One thing’s for sure: your vast height different was no issue when making out with Gladio — so long as you were both lying in bed.

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acelezz · 6 years

Text

“L is For Luna” (Part 2): A Saluna Fanfic

Title: L is For Luna

Summary: When Luna finds a love letter in her locker, she hopes that it is her crush Sam, but is doubtful. With the help of her ten siblings, Luna will find out whether her dreams of being with Sam will ever be a reality or not.

Part: 2

Author: L-is-For-Loud-House

Fandom: The Loud House

Ship: Saluna (Luna Loud and Sam Sharp)

Timeline: A few months after “L is For Love”

Genre: Fanfiction/Romance

Word Count: 1,746

...

“Clack, clack, clack!” The sound of Luna hitting Lori’s blue high heels on the white dresser in Lori and Leni’s room went.

It was now 3:00 in the afternoon and all of the Loud siblings had just gotten home from school ten minutes ago. They all had been gathered into Lori and Leni’s room by Luna for a Loud Sibling Meeting.

“I hereby call this meeting to order!” Luna announced.

“Lisa, can you read the minutes from the last meeting?” Lori asked the 4-year-old prodigy.

Lisa then proceeded to whip out a piece of paper which was a review of their last meeting. “Alright. Item one: It was resolved that in the matter of Lynn’s football-”

Lisa was then interrupted by Luna ripping the paper from her hands and crumbling it up into a ball. “Sorry, we don’t need to hear that today, Lise.” Luna then chucked the paper into the trash can. “Alright, so you’re probably all wondering why I gathered you all here today.”

“Whatever this is about, it better be good!” Lola hissed. “I was in the middle of practicing for my next pageant!”

“And I was in the middle of writing a new joke!” Luan added.

“And I was just about to go play in the mud!” Lana chimed in.

“And I was just about to read my new Ace Savy comic!” Lincoln exclaimed.

“And I was just about to paint my nails with my cute new nail polish!” Leni stated.

“And I was in the middle of writing a new poem!” Lucy announced.

“And I was just about to go outside and play some soccer!” Lynn whined.

“Poo poo!” Lily cried with annoyance.

“Ok, I get that you all want to go back to whatever it was that you were doing,” Luna told her siblings. “But this is my one and only voice. So listen close, it’s only for today. And I promise that this won’t take long! Alright, I gathered all of you in here to talk about this!” Luna then revealed the love letter that she got earlier on in the day at school to her siblings.

All of them groaned.

“Ugh, not this again!” Lola groaned.

“Luna, don’t you remember that sending love letters is Mom’s thing for Dad?” Lori asked. “You should probably give that to him so he can see what she wrote for him!”

“No, dudes, this letter is actually for me! I found it in my locker this morning!”

All of Luna’s siblings gasped.

Leni then ran up to Luna and gave her a hug as she squealed, “O. M. Gosh, Luna! Congrats, little sis! This is totes exciting!”

“Thanks, Leni,” Luna chuckled as Leni let go of her.

Leni then gave Luna a nudge. “So are you gonna tell us who it’s from?”

“I-I don’t know...” Luna then unfolded the letter and showed what had been written on it to her siblings. “Whoever wrote it signed it as ‘Your Secret Admirer’. So I need all of your help to figure out who it is.”

Lori then let out a squeal. “Ooh, I bet it’s Sam!”

The rest of the siblings except for Luna then let out a teasing, “Ooo...”

A slight blush came across Luna’s cheek as she nervously rubbed her arm. “I don’t know dudes. I’m really hoping that it’s Sam, but she’s way out of my league.”

“Are you kidding me?” Lincoln asked. “She totally likes you!”

“Well she definitely does as a friend, but I don’t know if it goes any further than that.”

“Well, who else could the letter be from?” Lynn questioned. “She always wants to come over and jam with you like five out of seven times of the week!”

“Yeah, and the way that she always looks so happy whenever she’s commini-gay-ting with you!” Luan teased.

“Luan!” All of the Loud siblings shouted.

“Wow, that joke certainly did not get BI you guys!”

The 14-year-old comedienne hen broke out into a fit of laughter while all of her siblings groaned and facepalmed themselves.

“But, Luna, despite her terrible jokes, Luan does have a point,” Lori began. “Remember that Luan, Leni, and I all go to the same school as you so we occasionally see you in the hallway with Sam. But we all know how important spending time with her is to you so we always let you two be. But all three of us have seen Sam walking in the hallway with other friends or by herself and she always seems to be the happiest whenever she’s with you.”

“Really?” Luna queried.

“Totes!” Leni agreed. “Her smile is always like ten times bigger whenever she’s with you!”

Luna smiled at the thought of Sam’s gorgeous smile. “Well, I always did think that she was a naturally happy gal. But you guys do have a point that I have no clue how she behaves when I’m not around. But I’m still not too sure if the letter’s from her, dudes.”

“Why? Is there anyone else that we should know about, Luna?” Lola asked, grinning.

“No, as of right now, Sam’s the only one out there that sends a million butterflies into my stomach. While I do have something for Mick Swagger, it’s not the same thing. I really look up to him and I think that his music is rockin’, so he’s just a role model to me. No one else has the same effect on my heart like the way that that Sam chick does. But what if there’s someone else out there who has been crushin’ on me and I just have no clue because we’re either not close or they’re just excellent at hiding it.”

“Well, it seems like you wouldn’t have a clue if anyone had a crush on you since you’re clearly oblivious to the fact that Sam likes you back!”

“Yeah, I do not enjoy feelings such as the ones that you have described and even I can see that Sam is attracted to you,” Lisa agreed.

“Maybe she’s just attracted to me as a friend,” Luna said, clearly in denial.

“Luna, why do you keep on disagreeing with everything that we’re saying?” Lana asked. “Did something that we don’t know about happen between you and Sam?”

“Nothing bad happened. But I did tell her about the letter.”

“And what did she say?” Lincoln asked.

“Well, she didn’t say whether it was her or not. But she did agree that it’s a bummer that the letter is signed anonymously. But this when we were walking to our first period classes and she had to go to chem. But, she did hug me and told me that she was excited for me right before she had to go. It surely did ignite the butterflies in my tum-tum and had me surprised because she ain’t much of a hugger. But then I figured it was because we’re really good friends so she’s just really happy that I got a love letter.”

All of the Loud siblings let out a squeal.

Luna raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Luna’s siblings all giggled at her.

Lori then put a hand on her short-brown-haired sister. “Luna, you have no idea how literally oblivious you can be sometimes. Sam was totally the one who wrote that letter! She’s probably just too nervous to admit that she was the one who wrote the letter, just like how you’re too nervous to admit to her that you’re the one who’s been sending her all of those love letters! Say, didn’t you tell us that you had a similar reaction when she told you about the letters that she got?”

Luna’s cheeks turned a deeper shade of red as she let out a chuckle. “Yeah, I did. Man, were the butterflies soarin’ when she mentioned that. I nearly almost lost my cool. But yeah, all I said was that I really hoped that she figured out who sent them to her.”

“Yeah, so she probably likes you back and figured out that you were the one who wrote the love letters, but like you, wasn’t 100 percent sure. She’s probably too nervous to ask you so she’s trying to find out if she’s right by returning the favor. And like I said, like you, she’s too nervous to admit that she was the one who wrote the letter so she’s trying to hint her feelings towards you like doing sweet and romantic things that she normally doesn’t do, like hugging you.”

“Wow, Lori, you sure do have a point there. But still, dudes, what if we’re all wrong? How can I find out that it’s her for sure?”

“Well, my advice from a few months ago still stands accurate,” Lucy answered. “Since Sam, um I mean the writer, is clearly shy, you need to give Sam a signal to let her know that you’re interested. If you receive a second letter soon after, then she’s clearly the author.”

“That’s a great idea, Lucy, but I don’t know if I’m brave enough to do that,” Luna admitted. “I’ll probably just chicken out.”

“That’s it!” Lola yelled as she hopped off Lori’s bed. “I can’t stand to see you act like this!” Lola then grabbed Luna by her shirt and pulled on it, bringing Luna’s face right down to hers. “You need to woman up! You think if Sam can’t admit that she wrote the love letter and if she’s not a touchy person that she wasn’t apprehensive when she hugged you?”

“Well, she didn’t seem like it,” Luna answered.

“Well, she probably was! Same people are just better at hiding things like that than others! But she did it anyway because she’s brave and because she really likes you! That probably took a lot out of her so now you’re going to muster up all of the bravery that you’ve got and return Sam the favor by sending her a darn signal!”

Lola then let go of Luna. Luna gulped as she stood upright again.

“Sam is coming over tomorrow, correct?” Lola asked.

“Yeah, she’s coming over so that we can jam out with my new amp,” Luna replied. “She told me that she would have come over today, but she couldn’t of because she had to go to the Royal Woods Diner after school with her family to celebrate her dad’s birthday.”

“Perfect. You can give her your signal then.”

...

(Part 1) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7)

...

Check out “Lincoln’s Concert Catastrophe”!

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6)

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jesbakescookies · 7 years

Text

Birds and Bees

This was supposed to be a random one-shot but as I was writing it, I realized I was writing the Negan from my fanfiction Rear Window.

So please consider this a prequel one-shot to Rear Window. It's okay if you haven't read it, but I thought that those of you who have, might enjoy thinking of this as the time before Negan knew Kayla.

AU one-shot, no zombies. It contains cussing and smut, as well as a healthy dose of Negan humor.

This was a prompt from a friend. "Negan teaches sex-Ed.”

Thanks for the idea @lovesjdm! I hope you and @soythedemonqueen enjoy it!

I don't own the Walking Dead etc. I just play with it, like an overgrown child.

"Alright, alright. I want asscheeks in seats." Negan hollered, smacking a yardstick against the large desk in front of the class.

Handing a pile of paperwork to the boy in the first seat, Negan instructed, "Everybody take one and pass it along. This is reading material. Do not draw dicks on it. Do not write little love notes to your moon faced girlfriends and do not make any goddamn paper airplanes or so help me, you'll be running laps until your grandkids have gray ball hair. You got me, Stephens?"

"Yes, sir."

"That's what I like to hear." Negan drawled, slumping down in the rolling deskchair at the front of class. "Now you little pud pullers are in for a treat today. We have a special guest speaker and I want you clowns to behave."

"Who?" A kid in the center asked after raising his hand.

"Nurse Andrews is going to stop by for some... educational instruction." Negan rasped, a smile twitching at his lips at the idea of it. The new principal had mandated all Sex-Ed classes be taught by Co-Ed instructors, meaning Negan and Nurse McNiceTitties would be chatting about the birds and the bees to a bunch of fifteen year olds.

After class, if Negan got his way, he'd put a very large instructional manual on the subject matter, straight in her inbox. Hell, maybe even in her outbox, if she was a dirty girl.

"Now I don't want any damn shenanigans today." He instructed, raising his hand to count off all the ways the idiots could fuck up his chances of landing the hottest piece of ass at school, since the librarian transferred from Tolleson. Sarah was last fall's conquest and he was still avoiding the stage-four clinger like the clap. Negan was hoping the cute little nurse would provide him with much needed release, without all the strings.

Scanning the room, he stared down the biggest pains in his ass, while listing off his shit list.

"Number one, no dick or boob jokes. I'm the only one here funny enough, to pull that shit off, so don't-even-try-it. Number two, do not and I repeat, do not use the example condoms given to you, as water balloons."

The group broke into laughter, until Negan scowled deeply and slid a silencing glare over the room. Truthfully, he found that shit, funny-as-fuck. However, seeing as the last incident, ended with the principal reaming him a new asshole, Negan wanted to dodge that shitfest if at all possible.

"If I see a bunch of rubbers busted across campus, I will make you wish your parents double bagged it, before they went twenty toes. I will shut that shit down. Are we clear?"

A round of affirmative nods and grunted yeahs, echoed across the room. Moments later, a tap on the door announced his latest obsessions arrival and had him rising to open the door. Turning back to the classroom of twenty-five male students, he threatened, "Do not embarrass me."

After waiting for the group to nod in agreement, Negan opened the door with a wide grin. "Well, if it ain't my favorite medical professional."

Leaning against the doorframe with crossed arms, Negan blocked her from entering and let his hooded eyes trail down the sexy little things body. The woman was more than a foot shorter than Negan, the loose bun she wound her red hair in, giving her a couple more inches.

'Not as many as I'll give her later.' He thought with a smirk.

Her ginger complexion wasn't unhealthy, having more of a peach tone than a ghostly white and her rosy lips and sculpted brows fit her heart shaped face perfectly. She wore a pale grey cardigan and tight black skirt that showed of her curvy hips and shapely calves. The sexy secretary look had Negan's dick twitching and balls aching to slap against that apple shaped ass, he swore he could bounce a quarter off it.

Rolling her pretty blue eyes, the petite redhead murmured, "Am I allowed to come inside or am I teaching in the hall?"

"Oh I'll let you come inside, dollface. Hell, maybe even outside, if you're the adventurous type."

Sighing in frustration, Nurse Andrews brushed passed him, leaving behind the tantalizing smell of something sweet and mouth watering. While greeting the students, the redhead wrote her name on the chalkboard.

"Hello, class. Most of you have met me in the recent weeks but I'll go ahead and introduce myself, for those of you who haven't. I'm Ms. Andrews and along with your physical education teacher, I will be providing you with valuable information. This information is very important for you and your future well being, so I'd like all of you to pay attention and take this course very seriously."

"Damn, you sound so strict." Negan murmured next to her, a grin curling his lips as she blushed under his gaze. Licking the corner of his lip, Negan added, "I never would've guessed, but I like it. Very… naughty schoolmarm."

Rolling her eyes again, the school nurse wandered further down the chalkboard away from him and wrote down a list of topics for the day. Negan stood nearby, his head cocking slightly to the side as she bent over to finish the long list. He could see the barest lace edge of a pair of thigh high stockings, the sight causing his needy dick to throb.

'Fuckin hell.' He growled inwardly at the idea of bending her over the desk and pushing the little skirt over her curved ass, exposing the nylons and what promised to be a tight kitten.

"Okay, where would you like to start?" Ms. Andrews asked, interrupting his filthy fantasy, her jewel toned eyes rising to his.

"Oh, I got a couple ideas." He drawled, before biting his lip in thought.

Clearing her throat awkwardly, she offered, "I suppose I can start then, since you're so… overwhelmed. Everyone turn to page fifteen in your Health Sciences textbook. We're going to talk about the female anatomy."

"I think I should take this one, Ms. Andrews. I'm an expert in this subject."

"More than an actual female?"

"You have... no idea."

"Be that as it may, I will be taking over this part of the course." She informed, her eyebrow cocking haughtily. The expression made his throat bob, as he swallowed thickly, the challenge in her eyes causing his blood pressure to rise.

"If you say so, nurse."

Pursing her lips, she turned to the students and began her detailed explanation of the human female anatomy. The words were scientific and medical in natural but every time one slipped from her pretty pink lips, Negan had the urge to taste the part spoken about.

"The areola…"

All he could think about, was the shade of pink her perky nipples probably were and if they'd taste as sweet as she smelled. Watching her shift her weight, from pointy heel to pointy heel, Negan felt his mouth dry, as her calves flexed deliciously. He wanted to throw them over his shoulders and bite them, while giving her 'what for' on the teacher lounge table.

"Negan." Her voice broke his dazed stare from the delicate bones above her fuck-me heels and realized it was his turn to speak. Clearing his throat, he took the textbook from her and flipped to the male anatomy chapter.

"Page fifty five." He instructed hoarsely, leaning against the front of the desk, his long legs outstretched and crossed at the ankle. "I know all of you perverts are well versed in your gear by now, but we're going to gross you out by telling you what exactly is inside that dried apricot of yours."

"Jesus." He heard her mutter under her breath, her arms crossing with a huff.

Flashing her a wide grin, Negan began reading the paragraph of the vessels in the testicles and the human erection. Droning on with the required information, he ended the bland speech by slapping the book shut and asking, "Any questions about your tool bag?"

"No." They all answered emphatically.

"Great. We all know how boners are made. Now onto the good stuff, right?"

The school nurse touched his arm and whispered, "Maybe I should do this next part."

"Why do you say that?" Negan drawled, his lips tugging at the corner, as she flushed under his hooded stare.

Huffing out a breath of frustration, she murmured, "Because these kids don't need to learn how to be promiscuous. They need educational information on being safe and the results of not doing so."

"Please say promiscuous again but slower and softer like." He rasped, his eyes darkening as she stared incredulously at him.

"Negan." She growled, the sound turning him on more than anything else, ever before.

"Okay, okay, Nurse Ratched, take all the fun out of it." He grumbled, gesturing towards the group of horny teenagers. "They're all yours."

Negan could barely control the chuckle bubbling up in his chest, as she seemed to flounder at the attention. She coughed into her hand and cleared her throat, while picking up the textbook.

"Please uh… turn to page ninety, Chapter Fifteen…. Sexual Intercourse."

Wiping a heavy hand across his mouth, Negan hid the grin giving away his total, utter amusement at her sudden shyness. Noticing his barely suppressed humor at the situation, Ms Andrews barreled full steam ahead.

"Wait, so… like you can get stuff from a blow job?" Stephens asked with a furrowed brow.

Negan snorted at the question and replied, "Think about it this way. Say you're with a girl, who'd been with someone with a vicious case of nut scabbies. She was cool with it, or hey, maybe not and that's why she kicked his scabby ass to the curb. If she'd bobbed the bishop head, she could be carrying a unpleasant surprise on those pretty glossed lips. Then along comes you, a bumbling idiot looking to stick your meat thermometer somewhere. That hot little mouth could leave more than cherry chapstick on your sack."

Ms. Andrews rolled her eyes at his description and added, "What your teacher so elegantly put, oral sex can lead to the transference of sexual transmitted diseases from mouth to genitalia and vice versa."

"Yeah, that's what I said." Negan drawled, flashing her a smirk. "Now some things can be cured with some knob butter."

"Medical intervention.

"But a lot can't be." Negan ignored her input. "You could be stuck with a lifetime of itchy balls and weeping dicks. So… as much as it blows to wear condoms while getting a blow, at least your dick won't fall off afterwards."

"Wearing a condom during oral sex is the best way to avoid contracting contagious venereal diseases." She translated into adult.

"That's what I said." Negan repeated, his lip twitching as she let out a long frustrated sigh.

"So like, if a girl like… does it a lot it's bad right?" A messy haired teen asked after the awkward descriptions of types of fornication.

"Man, I told you. Stacy's a slut." His friend added with a grin.

Whistling sharply at the latest barrage of inappropriate statements, Negan growled, "What did I tell you about talking shit, Jeffreys? After school detention tomorrow."

"What? That's not fair!"

"You know what else isn't fair, this world subjecting others to idiots like you. So shut your trap, stop bad mouthing people or I'll have to call your mommy." Negan threatened, his eyebrows raised in challenge.

Scoffing loudly, the kid countered, "Pfft. She won't care. She hates Stacy."

"Oh… you thought." Negan chuckled gruffly, while taking a seat on the teen's desk casually.

Leaning closer he spoke quietly and calmly, "See I'm not going to rat on you kid... No, no… I'm going to ask her out. You know, wine and dine her. Show her a good time. I know she's been lookin'. Maybe I'll take her to that Italian restaurant she's always telling me about at our parent teacher meetings. She's a real looker, your mom… Hey, maybe I could be your new stepdad. Would you like that, son?"

The kid became paler and paler as Negan spoke, his fingers gripping the pencil in his hand until it snapped. Glancing down at it, Negan returned his narrowed eyes to the horrified teen. "Or, you could stop being a royal case of crotch rot and stop talking shit about people."

Nodding numbly, the kid sank in his seat with dread still roiling in his stomach. Negan stood up and returned to the nurse's side, flashing her a smile. He noticed she looked a tad flustered, her eyes wider and brighter. He could tell she was both impressed and hot for his performance.

"You like that darlin'." He rasped lowly, his lip twitching as she seemed to startle at his question.

"T-that was inappropriate."

"But it was awesome." He drawled, winking at her. "Alright, you slack jawed idiots. Let's talk about how to protect your johnson from foreign invaders. This is a prophylactic. Also known as, a contraceptive, condom, rubber, jimmy hat, meat sack, dick shrinkwrap, raincoat and my personal favorite, boner bag. These guys are the first line of defense when it comes to STDs and pregnancy."

"But they aren't one hundred percent effective." The redhead added, stepping forward to speak the stats that she had memorized. Negan smirked as she prattled off on the chances of catching unattractive diseases and teen pregnancy. After the kids seemed thoroughly horrified at the graphic descriptions of revolting and decidedly, boner killing horror shows, Negan took the reigns on the demonstration.

"Okay, so… you decided not to wait. The moments right, your partners down with it." He drawled, feeling surprisingly embarrassed to handle a banana in front of the sexy school nurse. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her covering a smile, as he had his own moment of performance anxiety. Clearing his throat roughly, Negan instructed, "don't bite the wrapper, you're bound to tear it and there's no love, without the glove."

A low chuckle had his neck heating up and sweat to prickling at his temples. Negan wasn't someone who blushed at attention, but as he unrolled the stupid condom over the very impressive banana, he was as red as a Mormon in a whorehouse.

"There." He grunted, holding the defiled piece of fruit up in the air. "The big guy is ready for some fun with Ms. Chiquita."

"That's if you still want to and your partner does. You can always change your mind." She added, her eyes scanning the group. "There's no shame and shouldn't ever be any anger if someone changes their mind."

Negan nodded with the statement and leaned against the desk with thickly crossed arms. "Good point, Ms. Andrews. Let's talk about the word 'no'."

Looking over the teen boys, he spoke evenly and firmly. "The word no, means stop what you are doing and listen to what they are saying. No does not mean maybe. No does not mean try harder. It does not mean you have a reason to be angry with or hurt someone for saying it. No.. means.. no."

Staring them down with narrowed eyes, Negan drawled, "I want you to think about how it would feel to find out a woman in your life, maybe your mother or your sister, hell maybe your great aunt Linda… think about how it would be, to find out someone didn't listen to them when they said no. Think about how that would hurt them, how unfair and disgusting it would be for your loved one to be abused and disregarded like that. Think about it when you get pissed off because your partner changed their mind. You do not force someone to do something, they do not want. Do you understand me?"

The room was quiet for a long moment as the serious conversation sunk in. Negan scanned the room looking for anyone not paying attention or blowing off the speech but saw none.

"Understood?"

"Yeah." Was mumbled throughout the room.

"Excellent. Now we're going to watch a brief video about the miracle of childbirth. It should ruin sex for you until you're thirty." Negan drawled, shoving the ancient VHS tape in the equally ancient VCR.

After hitting play and turning the lights off, both Negan and Ms. Andrews headed to the back of the room. Slumping into one of the desks, Negan folded his arms across the top and kept his eyes on the trouble makers of the class. He felt the nurse staring at him but made sure to wait to acknowledge it. When she began to fidget, Negan rasped, "I know, I know. I'm inappropriate but the topic is one that pisses me the fuck off, so scare tactics were necessary."

"I was going to say I was impressed at your handling of it." She replied softly.

"That's not the only thing you'd be impressed at my handling of." He murmured with a grin.

Rolling her pretty eyes, the redhead muttered, "Do you have to always do that?"

"I know, I know. Bragging is unappealing but in my defense, I am really fucking awesome at handling my-."

"Stop. I wasn't talking about that. You always sexualize everything."

"That's because you turn this delicious shade of pink." Negan flirted.

"Shush."

"Did you just shush me?"

"Yes, so... shush already." Her lips were pouty and pink, the quirk in the corner, telling him she was entertained but fighting the urge to admit it.

Chuckling under his breath, Negan leaned closer and murmured, "Doll, you couldn't shush me if you sat on my face. Actually I'd like to see you try that out. Who knows maybe it'll work. What'd ya say?"

"I say you're incorrigible."

"You love it."

"I love when you shut your mouth."

"So you want me to what, just sit here and look pretty?" He drawled, giving her his most cheeky smile. Rolling her eyes, she retorted, "sounds about right."

"So you think I'm attractive then." He smiled cockily.

"I think you're annoying."

"Annoyingly attractive." He quipped, bumping her with his elbow. "Stop pretending you weren't watching me fruit roll-up that banana without imagining me-."

"Stop." She growled, her eyes flashing to his. "You're being inappropriate."

"Yep."

"Do you ever shut up?"

"Nope."

"You should have that checked out."

"Well, that is a fine fucking idea." He drawled lowly, his mouth hovering near her ear. "Would you mind giving me a physical? You know, for scientific purposes."

Scoffing loud enough to have the boys heads turning back, the woman's cheeks turned that delectable shade he loved.

Clicking his tongue, Negan winked at her and whispered, "You're disrupting class, Ms. Andrews. I'll see you in after school detention."

"Pfft. Stuff it." She quipped, her eyes narrowing but the dimple in her cheek told him she was smirking under that scowl.

"Glad-fucking-ly." He rasped, his grit painting a vivid picture of just how much he wanted to. Flicking her eyes to his, the fiery redhead started to speak, but was interrupted, as the group of monsters set on destroying all of Negan's hard work, erupted into horror filled screams. Clenching his teeth, he glared at the screen as the bun was grotesquely expelled from the oven.

"Cock blockers." He muttered, slumping down, as the school nurse rose to turn the lights back on and stop the tape. Negan sulked for a moment, his dick ready to stage a revolt from the shear amount of heavy lifting it kept doing all afternoon.

'Easy big guy. Soon.' He grunted, while rising to his feet.

The class went much to be expected, red faced teenagers and exaggerated gagging sounds when discussing the menstruation cycle. Negan confiscated two notes and three crudely drawn dick pics, which he made sure to pocket because they were hilarious and he had a collection already. Don't fucking judge a man for his hobbies. Eventually he gave two teens detention for asking if the nurse could give them a demonstration of proper female condom usage.

Negan leaned against the desk watching the petite woman erase the chalkboard, her ass swishing with every swipe of her hand. He chewed his lip to contain the groan when she bent over to pick up a paper airplane.

"Fucking assholes." Negan grunted at the sight.

The chuckle she released extinguished his irritation at the little animals disobeying him, but the pointy paper flying towards his face had him growling again. Smacking it away, he wagged a finger at her. "You could've poked my eye out."

"Don't be a baby."

"You should know better as a medical professional." Negan drawled, watching her pack her bag up.

Snorting, she glanced at him and retorted, "Well as a medical professional, I diagnosis you as being full of shit."

Huffing out a laugh, Negan swaggered towards her, his eyes trailing down her body. "That's some foul language for a lady."

Biting her lip, she watched him approach with wary eyes. "I should go."

"Why's that? You got somewhere to be?"

"I have stuff to do."

"Like what?" He asked, reaching out to tuck a wild strand of red hair behind her ear. Negan watched the flush rise up her cheeks, highlighting the sprinkle of freckles across her nose.

"Paperwork."

"Well, fuck. Why didn't you say so, that's sounds really fucking important." He deadpanned, flashing her cocky grin.

"Shush." She muttered at his teasing, her lips pursed to keep the smile from her face.

"You know what I told you about shushing me." He rasped, leaning closer to get another whiff of her delectable smell.

"Stop being a pervert." She huffed, while trying to leave the classroom. Negan could tell she didn't want to leave but was embarrassed at the conversation. Grasping her wrist loosely, Negan drawled, "It's part of my charm."

"It's not very charming."

"Yet you like me."

"I don't like you."

"I find me attractive."

"So."

"So you do?"

"Jesus, obviously your good looking." She growled, pulling at his grasp but only barely. "It's your mouth that's the turn off. Now let me go."

"Doll, you haven't even let me use my mouth on you. Believe me, it is not a turn off." He drawled, reeling her closer to murmur into her ear. "Let me show you, just how good I am with my mouth."

Negan watched her swallow thickly, her eyes flicking to his before dropping to his lips. Swiping his tongue across the bottom one, Negan could see her resolve crumbling as his thumb stroked the delicate skin below her wrist.

"Come on, sweetheart." He rasped, tugging her closer to brush his lips against her temple. "You know you want to."

"What happened to no means no." She muttered, her eyes still glued to his mouth.

"You haven't said no." He replied, a smirk tugging at his lips when she rolled her eyes. "Keep rolling those pretty little peepers of yours and their bound to roll right out of your pretty little head."

"So you think I'm pretty?" She mocked him for his pestering earlier.

"I think you're fucking gorgeous." Negan drawled, reeling her into his chest and cupping her face. "and I think you want me to kiss you, as bad as I want too."

He watched her lick her lip, subconsciously readying herself for what was about to happen. Leaning forward, Negan kissed her softly, plucking at her soft pink lips as she began to sink into his chest and hands. Soon the kiss deepened and he got to taste every sweet corner of her pliable mouth.

Pulling away for a breath, Negan drawled, "You still need to go do paperwork?"

"What paperwork?" she rasped, her eyes dark and mouth swollen.

"Exact-fucking-ly." He growled, nipping her bottom lip before pulling away. Smirking when she pouted at his sudden retreat, Negan wandered to the classroom door and flipped the lock to make sure they weren't interrupted by some nosy asshole. Negan wasn't going to let the opportunity pass and he sure as fuck wasn't going to let some moron wander in an ruin his chances of burying his bone in the hottest piece of ass in the tri-county area.

As he headed back towards her, Negan took in her heavy breathing and flushed skin. She was more than gorgeous, she was beautiful and the longer Negan looked her over the more he began to notice.

"You really are beautiful, you know that?" he rasped, the grit in his voice causing shivers to run through her body.

"I.."

"You're a typical woman huh? Don't know how hot you are."

"I just don't see myself that way."

"Well let me show you how fucking attractive I think you are." he growled, his hands laying heavily on her hips as they shuffled towards the desk.

Backing her up against the table top, Negan couldn't stop his hands from gripping every square inch within reaching distance. Her ass filled one hand, as the other cupped her face and neck. He rolled his hips against her, pressing her into the hard surface.

"Goddamn, you are so sexy." He growled as her hands yanked him closer by a handful of shirt.

"We shouldn't do this here."

"No, we shouldn't." He rumbled, his mouth dipping to her neck as he kissed and sucked a hot path along the skin. "But we're going to and we're going to enjoy the fuck out of it."

Slowly unbuttoning the sweater she wore, Negan groaned as he found the lacy camisole below it. The silky fabric barely hid the soft curves of her breasts, the delicate bra underneath pushing them up and together. Dipping his face into the warm cleavage, he licked and sucked on the exposed curves.

"I want to die face down in this titties." He growled, nipping the flesh as her sweater and cami was shed. His hands stroked her skin and massaged her hips and ass, nothing was enough. Negan wanted to touch everything and everywhere, all at once.

"Negan." She moaned as his hand pulled her bra down enough to tongue at her exposed nipple.

"Yeah, baby girl." He growled, brushing his teeth across the puckered skin. "You like it when I touch you?"

"Yes." She hissed as he tugged on her nipple sharply.

"Good girl." He drawled, before ordering, "Turn around."

The little redhead seemed confused at first but surprisingly followed his directions. Humming at the sight of her pale back and the tight skirt that still highlighted her decadent ass, Negan gripped both her hips and pulled her flush against his groin.

"You want this, darlin'?"

"Yeah." She moaned as he ground his dick against her center from behind. "Enough talking about it."

"You telling me to shush again, doll?"

Glancing over her shoulder she murmured, "Maybe, what'll you do if I am?"

"Fuck." Negan rasped, snapping his hips against her, while pressing her into the hard surface. Dipping his head into the curve of her neck, Negan kissed and nipped his way to her ear before whispering, "I think I'm going to have to show you how talented my mouth is. Maybe you'll stop telling me to shut up."

Pulling the chair over, Negan took a seat to bring him at eye level to her ass and hips. Glancing over her shoulder with wide eyes, she muttered, "What're you doing?"

Negan smirked as he slowly pushed her skirt up and over her ass, exposing the fuck-hot thigh highs and garters he knew lie below. The soft curve of her ass was covered in lacy panties that had him practically drooling at the sight of the damp fabric.

"Fucking hell." He growled, leaning forward to take a bite out of the soft flesh. The squeak she emitted at the sharp nip had him laugh gruffly, his teeth flashing bright as she scowled back at him.

"Aww, don't be like that darlin'."

"Are you going to just tease me or are you-." her words were choked on when he grabbed her panties and tore them off leaving her stockings and garter in place.

"Hey!" she exclaimed before moaning lowly as he brushed his thumbs across her wet core. Negan growled deeply as the pads of his fingers slid effortlessly through the wet lips.

"Goddamn, sweetheart. You. Are. Soaked."

"Fuck." She gasped as his tongue took a long swipe up her center, as he spread her open.

"That's very unladylike." He rumbled behind her with a chuckle, his eyes taking in the flushed skin and trembling thighs.

"Does anything about this seem very ladylike right now?" She asked, squirming in front of him waiting for more.

"Touché." He grunted before diving in face first into the tastiest pussy he'd ever had. Twirling his tongue through the quivering lips, Negan sucked a delicious pattern over her hood, while plunging a finger inside her clenching walls.

Her moans urged him on, his eyes flicking up her body to see her face pressed into the desk with clenched eyes and parted mouth. He growled deeply as she ground back into his mouth, her body begging for him to make it cum.

"Like that?" he rasped, while inserting two fingers into the tight little core begging for more. Plunging them in and out, while sucking on her swollen clit, Negan listened to her moan and sigh, her eyes fluttering open to watch him from over her shoulder.

"Do you?" he asked again, licking her arousal from his lips as he worked her over with his fingers.

Nodding she murmured, "Yes."

"You wanna cum on my loud mouth huh?"

"Yes." She moaned, her head thrown back as he sucked her clit deep into his mouth, while fingering her quickly. "Please."

Growling like a wild animal, Negan kept his pace hard and fast as she began to shudder and shake below his mouth. Soon she pushing back onto his fingers, grinding her pussy against his face greedily. He couldn't get enough of her taste and scent, the man rutting his face into her folds deeper and hard.

"Oh fuck." She moaned, her head thrown back as she came long and hard all over his tongue and lips. He felt her walls fluttering and squeezing his plunging fingers as he continued to lick and suck her sensitive hood and clit.

When all that was left were spasms and mewling, Negan gave her core one more long flat tongue swipe, before smirking at her flustered, sweaty state.

Slowly he unbuckled his pants, his hands moving efficiently and precisely, as she watched him with hazy eyes.

"You like that baby?" he asked, stroking his impossibly hard dick, while looking over the wet core still dripping in front of him.

"Yeah."

"You want me to put this inside you?"

Panting at his question, the redhead nodded shyly at the question but wiggled her hips enticingly. Humming deeply at the sight, Negan stroked his cock with a tight fist before reaching into the desk to grab a condom. After rolling it down, Negan drawled, "You wanna sit on my lap, nurse?"

Smirking, she began to turn around but Negan grabbed her hips and growled, "Stay like that."

Lowering her onto his lap, while she faced away, Negan watched his dick slowly slid inside her. Gripping her hips, Negan set an easy pace of her tight ass rising and falling onto his lap. Stroking a hand up her spine, Negan plucked the hooks of her bra, allowing the material to fall from her chest. Sliding his hands up her waist, Negan circled them to cup her soft breasts, squeezing them and plucking at her nipples as she rose and fell onto his dick.

Negan bit into her shoulder as she continued to grind on his lap, circling her hips as he lost himself inside the feel of her.

"Fuck, doll." He growled his mouth sucking on the sweet flesh behind her ear, his breath hot and heavy against her neck. "You feel so amazing."

"Negan." She gasped, her hand raising to clutch a handful of the hair at the back of his neck.

"You gonna cum on my dick, sweetheart?" he asked, his hips rolling off the seat to impale her deeper, while he slid one hand to stroke her clit and his other to twist her perky tit. "Fuck I can feel you. You're so damn close."

"I wanna." She moaned, her hips squirming under the weight of his heavy arm as he flicked her hood with two fingers.

"I'll take care of you, baby." Negan cooed, before rising to pin her to the desktop in front of her. Grasping her hips, Negan began rocking his hips into her sopping core until his pace became quick and sharp. The snap of flesh against flesh was almost drowned out by the heavy panting they both expelled, but nothing suppressed the screech of the table legs moving across the worn linoleum. Negan growled as she squeezed and clutched at him, her nails clawing at his thighs and forearms.

"Taking it so good, baby." He purred, his hips snapping into her ass while she moaned. "Now cum."

The sight of her head thrown back and her ass arched to let him sink as far as humanly possible, had Negan breathless. He watched with seized lungs as the beautiful woman below him came with a long string of curse words belonging to a sailor. Nothing had ever been so hot and no one had ever cum so hard on his dick before. Negan was blown away by the pure unadulterated lust he saw in her eyes when she peered at him over her flushed sweaty shoulder.

"Fu-ck." He grunted as her lips flexed and quivered around his dick, the deep hollow almost refusing his retreat with every thrust. "Damn, doll. Your kitten won't let go."

"Sit." She rasped huskily, her hands pushing against his hips.

Negan obeyed, if only because his legs felt like they were about to buckle under the weight of his aching dick. As he did, he watched the woman removing her skirt, leaving her in nothing but a garter, stockings and high heels, turn around to face him. Negan let his eyes drift over her scantily clad body, his pupils probably dilated to the point of no return, as he focused on the cleft between her damp thighs.

"That answer one of my questions." He grumbled, his lip pulled between his teeth, as she swayed her curvy shape towards him. The swish of her hips and bounce of her breasts had to be the sexiest thing Negan had ever seen.

"Which was?"

"If you were a real redhead." He replied, flashing her the cheeky grin he knew pulled her trigger.

Biting that plump bottom lip, he would kill for, to suck on, she murmured, "And that's a good thing?"

"Fuck yes it is." He growled, pulling her onto his lap to get closer to the hot little fire crotch.

Negan's eyes rolled back in his skull, as she sunk onto his aching dick, the tight lips engulfing him like a second skin. His hands move long soft sweeps across her body, rough fingertips tracing every curve and dip to her body. He couldn't get enough of the otherworldly material that claimed to be her skin. He'd never felt anything so seductive, as her muscles moving under his palms, as she rolled and rocked her tight light body onto his.

Negan groaned when she began rising and falling with a quicker pace, her hands raking through his hair to grabbed two handfuls at the back of his skull. Pulling it, the fiery woman in his lap kissed him deeply, while circling and grinding her hips against his. All he could do was clutch onto her ass and tits while she had another orgasm from riding his dick. He swallowed her guttural moans as he plunged into her with more force and focus.

After a particularly tight clench from the delectable body atop his, Negan's control broke. Throwing his head back, a forceful moan was torn from his throat, as he rocked his hips off the chair and into the tight little nurse pistoning on his lap. He could feel her quivering and trembling around his dick and under his hands. Pressing his face into her neck, Negan swirled and rolled his hips into her spread thighs, his dick pulsing and throbbing into the hot core. He couldn't see for a solid minute, his vision black from hyperventilating like some virgin sinking his first boner.

Stroking her skin, Negan cupped her breasts and kissed her neck and jaw. He could feel her sinking into his touch, the softness of her surrounding him as she nuzzled into his neck.

'Could fucking get used to this.' He thought while squeezing her ass with both hands as he placed open mouth kisses along her cleavage and neck.

"That's the most thorough check up I've had all year, Nurse Andrews." He muttered, a smile breaking out as she rolled her pretty blue eyes at him.

Combing a hand through his mussed hair, the little redhead replied, "We've slept together, Negan. I think you can drop the formality now."

"Sounds fucking good to me, darlin'." he drawled, smirking up at her. "So… when can we do this again, Lucille?"

"Who said anything about this happenin' again?" She quipped.

"Oh, doll…. Didn't I tell you? You're my girl now."

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12761404/1/Birds-and-Bees

#The Walking Dead #twd fanfiction #fanfiction #AU fanfiction #negan #negan x oc #negans thirst squad #negans-network #prequel #rear window #sex ed #one shot #smut #coach negan

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hexdream18243 · 7 years

Text

Fanfiction: Strange behavior

Now, finally, I wrote, translated and posted this thing. I hope I won't upset anybody because it is the first time I will use a topic what could trigger someone. One small thing: I didn't ask anybody to correct it, so it may have some bigger and smaller mistakes. I'm sorry about that. If you find them, don't hestitate to write to me, so I can correct it. So, I guess it is all from me. Enjoy your choice!

Paring: None, or logicality if you want it to be. Warnings: Implied self-harming, small wounds (I should say "primarily"?). Please let me know if I should add something more! Word count: 2309 ("Word's" words) Summary: From some time Patton is avoiding everyone while behaving strangely and Logan notices that. It could be something serious?

AO3 link

Logic had decided to hunt in the living room because he had found it as the best place to achieve his goal. Morality had to finally appear here and when he will do it, it won’t be so easy for him to avoid confrontation.

Since yesterday Logan was trying to approach Patton but moral part of personality every time had an excuse to escape. Just this behavior was strange for so radiant person generally eager to spend time with the others. However it was just one of many things which was recently worrying Logic in his behavior and it wasn’t even the most important.

Everything started some time ago when they bumped into each other. Logic was so occupied by his notes that he didn’t notice Morality. After collision the papers scattered on the floor and they collided with their foreheads. Thanks to that Logic can saw something he would never think he will see. Morality’s eyes were red and swollen, he looked like he was… crying? Logan was so surprised that he couldn’t move. Morality at that time was watching with interest such unusual reaction.

“Morality?” Logic finally said.

“Yes? Something happened?”

“I could ask you about the same. Did you… cry?” He hardly even say it. It’s illogical, what could so upset moral part of personality that he was crying heart out? Of course, it could be that Thomas was just watching animals adoption sites but Morality’s reaction says that it’s something different.

“What?” First he was completely surprised and then he touched the corner of his eye. A sudden understanding flashed across his face but instead normally explained it like nothing big (how Logic expected) he became distressed and he stuttered. “Oh. I mean, no! I… mmm… It’s… alle… DUST! It’s dust!”

“Dust?”

“You know, I was cleaning one of the storerooms, we need more place, and dust is dust, it’s flying everywhere, it goes to the throat, nose, eyes, it’s hard to deal with it, so you should meal with me, I mean, I had to go out and… We collided” he laughed awkwardly.

“You said that you just get out of there?”

“Yes!” Logic looked at him. Morality didn’t have even a trace of dust on his clothes. He noticed his look and abashed even more.

“So if you let me” Patton bend down, quickly collected papers and pressed them to Logan’s chest. “I’ll go to change.”

After that he run to his room, disappearing from the Logic’s eyes.

It was suspicious but it did not seem serious. Yet. In that case Logic had to accepted that even Morality can has some secrets. That’s why he wasn’t much surprised when he saw Morality with a package sneaking through the living room. Logan sat on the couch and accidentally looked up from the book to see him.

Morality didn’t even notice it, he continued sneaking, making himself looking more suspicious that it would be if he normally went. Thing which worry Logan in this all situation was that Patton again had red eyes. It was common recently even if Morality belittle it, always explaining issue by dust when someone asked him. And it was clear that he doesn’t spend all his free time in the storeroom. Logan every morning was checking the room and it looks abandoned as always. It means that Morality was spending his time somewhere else. Logic didn’t pay attention to it earlier but Morality was disappearing for most of the day recently. Somewhere.

When Morality finally left the living room, Logic saw this as a good opportunity to find out where he really was in this “cleaning time”. He didn’t think about it as something wrong, he just wanted to collect information just in case. In the end, it may turn out that in some serious situation, they will need him and they won’t know where to look for him. Logan quietly got up from the couch and in safe distance followed moral part of personality. When Patton stopped next to the door to the basement, Logan hid behind the corner, so he could see Morality but Morality couldn’t see him. Patton looked around and breathed a sigh of relief when he didn’t notice anybody and he entered to the basement.

When the door closed, Logic went to check it. As he expected, enter was closed. He wondered if he should try to eavesdrop Patton but he came to the conclusion that it didn’t make sense. The door was made of thick wood and the basement was quite deep. Even if door was wide open, it was hard to hear something. So he left this, concluded that, maybe, Morality has the need to hide something bigger from the others. But again, theoretically he had the right to do so. Even if awareness that he has, hurt a little bit.

However, it also didn’t make Logan feel the need to discuss the whole situation with him. What worried him the most and led to the current hunt was something he noticed just three days earlier in the kitchen.

At the beginning it looked like it’s better. Morality stopped having red eyes all the time and theoretically, he stopped avoiding them though he was still disappearing for the part of the day. He also was wearing his winter sweater from some time. It wasn’t strange, the rest of them also wore them. It was cold, or at least the mind palace was cold, because winter is associated with coldness. A warm sweater with long sleeves was really nice change from freezing in a short-sleeved shirt. Also it wasn’t strange that, when Logan entered kitchen, Patton was washing the dishes. It was his turn. In order to not wet the sleeves of the sweater, he rolled them up to the elbows. When he heard steps, he turned ahead to the entrance and leaned against sink, accidentally revealing his wrists. Logan vacantly looked at them and saw some short straight red scars. He ran out of words. He came to the kitchen in order to ask something specific, but it immediately flew away from his mind. Morality titled his head, seeing his startled look.

“Logan? What is go…” He followed Logic’s eyes and when he realized that he had exposed wrists, he quickly hid them behind his back. He was trying to smile reassuringly but it was more distressed. “What is going on? Do you need my help in something?”

“I…” Shock still didn’t leave Logan. “Em… I wanted to ask you if you need help with the dishes” he said the first better thing he was finally able to think about.

“Aw, it’s very kind of you but I think I can handle it. You can back to yours things, I’m sure that there is a lot of papers in your room you have to take care of or something” all the time talking, Morality delicately but firmly turned Logan and pushed from the kitchen, keeping his wrists out of his sight. - “See you later!” - Patton closed kitchen’s door, leaving confused Logan outside.

What he saw far outgrew him. He understood secrets but that… That’s why he decided to involve Roman and Virgil in this situation. Certainly they were able to advise or come up with something. Only these consultations did not go as he expected.

“Are you sure that’s what you’ve seen?”

“Virgil, yes, I’m sure. Nothing has changed since last time you have asked me that.” Logan sighed. The conversation was beginning to tire him. For now a hour, they were sitting in the living room well after midnight because it was only time when they were sure Patton won’t accidentally hear them.

“Maybe it is an innocent wound?” Roman suggested. “Made accidentally, when he was doing something like pulling things out of the cabinet or whatever.”

“Roman. I said it many times already but I’ll repeat. Of course, it could be an innocent wound. But it is extremely unlikely that as a result of an unfortunate coincidence such wounds would appear on, I remind you, the inside of both wrists. But not impossible.”

“I just can’t believe in it. Patton?” Virgil leaned against the wall and curled on the commode where he sat.

“I also find it hard to believe, that’s why I asked you for a meeting. What do you think, what we can do with it?”

“I think that the only person who can do something is you.” Prince crossed his arms over his chest. “Even if it’s hard to me admit it, I’m not able to save our friend when I don’t have enough proofs. Any of us two didn’t notice earlier his strange behavior.”

“You want to say that only me can affect him because I have enough observations to deny him if he would try to negate?” Logan asked.

“Yes.”

“In addition, Patton is aware that you know. After this kitchen incident he knows what you saw” murmured Virgil.

“So what should I do?” Logan asked desperately. Roman looked at him with compassion.

“Talk with him.”

“It’s easy to say. About what? How? ‘Hey, Patton, listen, I know that you…’” Logan stopped.

“Assure him that you are not angry at him and that you want to help him” came a quiet answer.

“What?” Logic looked at Anxiety.

“It is a good idea.” Prince added, looking at Virge too.

“If you won’t do it, he will close and you won’t be able to help him. We don’t want it. Knowing him, he will rather take your help and then perhaps ours.” Virgil looked away trying unsuccessfully to sit in a more comfortable pose on the commode.

“It… makes sense.” Logan nods slowly. “Now I need your help in planning this conversation.”

And this is how he ended here. Waiting for unsuspecting Morality. He felt half-prepared. He didn’t have time to read books on these types of topics, so his only preparation was conversation with Roman and Virgil. However, Patton’s earlier obvious evasions made him not as stressed anymore. He knew that now he would probably be able to carry out the planned conversation, but he tried not to think about it. Suddenly Patton entered to the living room. It’s about time.

“Oh, Logan! Hey, I just…” Morality wanted to leave the room and escape again. Not this time. Logic quickly got up and after catching up with him, he gripped his wrist firmly.

“Patton” he said quietly. Morality knowing that it makes no sense to try get away, stood still, avoiding his eyes.

“Yes?” he asked. Logic saw this as an incentive to continue the conversation. His grip eased a little but he grab also Patton’s second hand. He hoped that it was taken as a desire to show concern and interest, not to cut off the possibility of easy escape. He won’t be lying, it was both.

“I know what you are doing.” To those words, startled Morality looked quickly into his eyes to immediately look away with a shame. “Why you didn’t say anything us?”

“I was a-afraid that you will be angry” he stopped to take a deep breath. “Especially you, Logan.”

I hurts. It shouldn’t but it hurts a lot.

“Patton, I am not…” he cleared his throat. “I am not angry.” he said decisively.

“Really?” Morality asked in disbelief.

“Really.” It still hurts. “I want to help you.”

“You really want to HELP me?” – he stressed a word. Logan was starting to get a bit irritated. Even if he didn’t like emotions and he considered them to be really disturbing in everyday functioning doesn’t mean that he was completely insensitive and didn’t care. It’s just that nervousness wouldn’t help him in this conversation, so he summoned all the confidence he had and said:

“Yes.”

Morality brightened.

“It’s great!!! Come!” He grabbed Logan’s hand and dragged him toward the basement. Well, Logan did not expect such behavior. He ran down the stairs with no choice and saw…

“They are Morgan, Marion and Mary” – exclaimed Morality pointing at three little kittens that they began to cuddle to his legs. Logan’s legs collapsed at that sight. What is happening?! Fortunately he did manage to pretend to crouch to look at the cats. On of them was all black, the second had only white ears and the third was all white with black socks. The last one, probably Mary, came to him. He extended hand to pet her. The cat snorted at him and scratched his wrist.

“Mary! How many times have I told you, do not scratch! Forgive her Logan, I haven’t yet been able to unlearn her it and that’s because… Achoo!” Patton sneezed forcefully. He rubbed his eyes and laughed. “That’s why. I can’t spend as much time with them as I should because of Thomas’ allergy. But recently I managed to get the medication! Its here with the first aid kit. Come, I’ll disinfect your wound.” He led Logan to the corner where a familiar smuggled box had stood. Morality was talking all the time, even when he started to deal with Logan’s hand.

“I found them when was raining and was cold. I couldn’t leave them like that. That’s why I was hiding. I totally didn’t expect you wouldn’t be angry moreover you will want to help! Though I knew you will finally found about them, you know us too well to not notice how strange was my behavior. I’m not good in hiding such things.”

Logan let to Patton’s chatter flow past him, murmuring only in the rights moments in response. He didn’t know if he is more surprised by the development of accidents or amused or something else. But for the first time he felt overwhelming relief because he was wrong and the reason of strange behavior was something entirely different than he expected. At least this.

#Thomas Sanders #Sanders Sides #fanfiction #my fanfiction #logicality #a little #Logan Sanders #Logic Sanders #Morality Sanders #Patton Sanders #Virgil Sanders #Anxiety Sanders #Prince Sanders #Roman Sanders #strange behavior

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