#the chapters are like little short stories

[luv-beam]

YUMI HI MY THOUGHTS WHILE READING R BELOW THE CUT AHHHH:

• i love the life you've given to ur cast already and im only at jeonghans intro!! like the new girl, yuju, eunbi, san—very very nice!! adds such a good dimension

• omg wait i love the name luna!!! PLS WAIT THE LUNATIC THING DKFNKDNF i told my mom once i liked the name luna for like a future daughter and she was like "short for lunatic?" 😭💀 like yeah sure thanks mom

• ugggh love ur worldbuilding so far w their company/organization names, and how people call them different things in different contexts like officially vs by word of mouth!!! it's very immersive in this way heh :'))) (also the crescent company is so catchy)

• RAHH OMG WAIT THE POLITCS TALK IS STARTING I SHOULD TAKE NOTES OR SUMN, not just for keeping track of plot like who pres. lee is vs major gen wi, but also cuz i suck at this kind of stuff and would love to learn how to bring more political intrigue into my writing as well

• UR DESCRIPTION OF YUNHO STOP.... WHAT IF I WAD CLAWING AT THE WALLS I LOVE HIS DUALITY SKFNDKFNFN wiping off blood that is not his own vs his full and bright laugh 😭 im gonna sob

• loved the buildup of tension of will they wont they until it actually happened skfndkfn and luna sneaking into the safe and carrying out yeo's orders—i love this gradual unfolding of info !!! omg also kinda realized that yunho and his guys arent officially apart of ateez..? so they're their own kind of org maybe?

• HELLO WAIT WHAT UH OH ^

• OKAY WAIT NO I SEE THAT YUNHOS JUST THE CONSIGLIERE THAT MAKES MUCH MORE SENSE HAHA love that its chapter one and our mc already has to gamble w her life 😭😭 hmmm but some of her motivations have been revealed...

• i would also feel betrayed by yeo in this situation tbh lol

• WHO IS UR FATHER LUNA (゜゜)

• lowkey reading the "we would have killed u last night i we really wanted to" makes me think of them like "playing w their food/prey"... ofc since this is only chapter one, their relationships will develop but im still sus hmmm also the mentions of rv spies and the mx pharma oooooo

• YOU'RE FIRED IM CRYING SKFNKDMFKF

• OMG WAIT THIS LINE IS FIRE ^

• hmmm i def see jihoons point abt how passing a little trust test doesnt get u working for the boss on ur first day. like this promotion's some nepotism shit in real life but in luna's case i feel like its more like keeping her close so they can watch her

• THE SKETCHED GUN AND PARK SEONGHWAS HAND AHHHHH I LOVE THIS DETAIL and the interaction w yunho heh ;)))))))

overall, very excited to see where the rest of ur genius takes us!!! i have a feeling its gonna be a really bumpy ride... but knowing that its literally gonna be like 200k, ofc its gonna be a bumpy ride 😭 LOVE THE INTERACTIONS SO FAR AND THE CHARACTER INTROS!! the foundations for this story that you have established so far are so strong, like i have so much appreciation for this yumi!!! thank u for ur hard work!! <3

The Leaders | Chapter I

"this is the underworld that no one escapes from."

masterlist

ot8!ateez x f!reader, mafia au

chapter warnings: mentions of violence, gangs, drinking, shooting, near-death experience, illegal businesses, seonghwa and yunho are major assholes in this chap, san and yeosang have warmed up, mention of killing, etc

chapter wc: 9.8k

chapter synopsis: it is the year 1970 in eden when an attack on the crescent bar prompts you, the bookkeeper, to carry out yeosang’s order and flee with the contents of the safe. however, you are unlucky to have discovered an unknown, suspicious package that sentences you to an early death. left with no choice, you reveal secrets about the underworld to the crescents and their underboss that even they are not aware of. will this gamble prove to be fruitful?

It was very easy to get lost in the liveliness of the Crescent Bar. Despite being stationed away from the heart of it all, you often found yourself distracted by the chatter of a couple who would occasionally pop in for a drink, the hushed whispers of a group of men who would be looking over their shoulders every few minutes, the hearty laughter that would suddenly fill the hall and spread warmth in its wake, or simply, a lone traveller who would be swaying to the light music that you were actually sick of hearing but didn’t have the heart to complain about. 

It was now second nature to jot in an observation or record transactions on an hourly basis, just like it was natural for you to take over the cashier’s place so the poor girl could take a break and move around. You no longer felt your hair rise every time you overheard a piece of information that you knew Yeosang or San would like to hear, nor did you feel your pores opening to release sweat every time they glanced your way– just like San did now, just having entered the bar and sent his trademark flirty smile in your direction.

“Restock champagne on table two, right away!” 

“On the way!” You shouted instead of the new girl who was currently finding it hard to multitask. You didn’t have to worry about a thing– Yuju, the head of staff, noticed everything as if she had eyes in every corner of the bar. She would make sure to let the girl know that she was doing well with an encouraging pat to her back.

“They’re going to empty our inventory tonight,” Eunbi shared a grin with you. “We’re going to have to check the stock again.” 

“I’ll take that– ask Jeonghan to wake the hell up and make sure we don’t run out,” you requested, sliding over to the cash register and typing in the latest entry, marking it with today’s date of 3rd April, 1970. Eunbi urged the waiters to speed up before rushing to the empty table at the left corner of the bar where Jeonghan was resting. She delivered the message with a smack and Jeonghan, who was never really asleep but just had a knack for pretending that he found the loud and bustling atmosphere of the bar relaxing, groggily walked across the hall to the door that led downstairs to check stock- or to get an actual nap. You would find that out later.

“Luna,” San greeted you with your nickname and you nodded in greeting– the nickname stuck with you after Jeonghan once called you Luna. Everyone started calling you by that name afterwards but only a handful knew it was short for lunatic and you intended to keep it that way. 

You had no desire to use your real name anyway.

“Busy night?” San slid on the stool not far from you, Eunbi passing him a sweet smile before she started to pour Black Shadow for him- a staple of the Crescent Bar as the only supplier of the famous and well-loved Utopian wine in all of Eden. San swirled the red wine in his glass casually before downing it in one gulp and Eunbi refilled it before passing the bottle to you, going to attend to more pressing matters than one of the owners casually lounging to chat.

“Kind of,,” you turned to grab yourself a glass and San poured the wine for you. The clinking of your glasses echoed even in your loud surroundings and you took a sip, taking in his appearance- you assumed he must be returning from business since he was wearing a formal black suit, though he ditched his coat at the entrance. The white sleeves were rolled up, revealing his sturdy forearms with a thick silver watch on his left wrist and a silver band on his index finger- one you had never seen him without. 

Your eyes travelled up to his face- tendrils of slick hair falling on his forehead. Choi San was one of the most attractive men you had ever seen, and hardly anyone could deny that. 

The problem was that perhaps, he really did not realise how painfully attractive he was. The man was far too humble for his own good, despite being one of the most dangerous and powerful men in Eden.

“Heard something interesting of late?” He inquired routinely. It was always a bit more casual with him as compared to Yeosang. Yeosang was the boss around here, yes, but San was the one who kept things under control. The pair of them worked together very harmoniously and you admired that, even though you had qualms about whatever they were doing- whatever you thought they were doing. Almost two years here and you still had no idea just what it was that their gang did. 

Gang, you called them though they preferred ‘organisation’. The cops preferred ‘criminal organisation’ but you supposed it was just semantics at this point. Their name was Ateez- you never heard that term directly from any of their mouths, but even a child recognised that name and knew to avoid them- or avoid trouble with them. 

But officially, they were the Crescent Company, owner of the Crescent Bar and other businesses in Eden.

“Just politics,” you finished the rest of your drink, adjusting the lone pearl ring on your right hand. “Everyone’s a little antsy with what happened at the protest. They think it’s Assemblyman General Wi’s gang.”

“General Wi would never interfere like that, though,” San scoffed in amusement- perhaps he genuinely found the idea of a man like Major General Wi resorting to dirty means hilarious. “He’s far too smart for that.”

“He is,” you had to agree. “But who else to blame? Only someone from the military would dislike people protesting against martial law. There’s only one candidate for presidency who’s got influence in the army. They think General Wi’s success in the elections would mean the army would control the state.”

“Isn’t the army somewhat controlling the state already, though?” San pondered. “President Lee has ties with the army too.”

You may have gotten used to interacting with the most feared gang in Eden, but the mention of President Lee still made you shiver involuntarily. San had noticed it one too many times and though he hadn’t asked for an explanation, you were sure you would lack the words to describe this sentiment anyway. “President Lee… cannot be controlled by the army, or anyone for that matter. General Wi may be smart but he’s still easily influenced when met with someone of a higher status- that’s what I heard,” you added the last bit hoping it wouldn’t sound like a personal opinion. 

San raised a brow at your comment- you often tried (and failed) to mask your personal opinions under the guise of news but whenever you shared something, he made sure to listen- and listen beneath what your words tried to cover up. He often found your opinions and predictions regarding politics holding some weight and he wasn’t quite sure if you were subconsciously very observant or purposely pretending to be unaware. He once asked you how you knew so much but when you didn’t discuss any information with him for a few weeks, he took the hint. You only reported officially to Yeosang and he could bet you found it easier to talk to him about these things because he wasn’t one to probe.

“Keep me updated,” San said and you nodded. “Yeosang must be inside?”

“He’s actually in Room no. 1- he has visitors.”

“Visitors?” San frowned. “Who?”

“Lieutenant Jeong and co.,” you said and San shook his head at the way you so formally addressed the man. He had told you before that no one ever referred to him as the ‘lieutenant’ but you didn’t know how else to refer to him. “I was in the office earlier so they decided to take the room.”

“That’s okay, I’ll pop in there,” he grabbed a handful of nuts from the counter before walking to the backside of the bar, disappearing in the shadows as he reached the VIP area. You took a deep breath, your mind once again wandering to the ‘guest’. 

Lieutenant Jeong Yunho was not a guest here at all. He belonged here. If you thought Choi San was intimidating, you were wrong. You still recalled the first time you saw him right outside the bar, all roughed up, wiping the blood off his face with his sleeve but not a single scratch on him while a group of men around him writhed on the floor, clutching their mangled limbs. He met your eyes and your heart sank in the worst way possible- worse than the moment you were disowned by your own father. It was simply fear, and you hated feeling fear. You made up your mind to avoid him from then on but there was only so much you could do when you worked at the place he owned. 

Oftentimes he came into the bar in the late hours of the night after wrapping up things in the main office and sat right where San had been sitting earlier in front of you, drinking the strongest wine available in silence- perhaps to sort his thoughts out. He didn’t mind you sitting near him and doing your paperwork, and you didn’t make him feel uncomfortable unlike the others who could not stop stealing glances at him- it wasn’t that you didn’t want to, but you simply could not. You didn’t want him to find out what kind of an effect he had on you.

Especially when he had the warmest laughter and his entire demeanour shifted around his comrades. It intrigued you because he felt like two different persons in one vessel. That was the only time you would allow yourself to steal glances at him- when he was distracted enough. Otherwise you didn’t dare look at him in fear that he might find something about you that you had been struggling to hide all your life.

Eunbi came back after serving a group of guests, whispering, “This one table- they were awfully quiet when I went to serve them. I don’t know if it’s because they’ve got some gossip they don’t want anyone to hear or if they’re going to try something stupid.”

You looked at her- Eunbi’s instincts were usually spot-on. “Which table?”

“Over there,” she glanced at the corner and sure enough, the group of four was already looking in your direction. You pretended to be unaffected, asking her to take over the register. While casually strolling towards the door that led to the basement at the other end of the hall, you passed their table, noticing how they resumed talking only after you were out of earshot. 

Something was up. You went downstairs to see Jeonghan napping on the couch.

“Oi,” you poked his thigh and he stirred, opening an eye. You knew he wasn’t really asleep- he wasn’t one to let his guard down, but you supposed he could have his moments of peace. “Stock?”

“Enough for tonight but I’ll place an order for tomorrow before we leave,” he said. “What’s up?”

“There’s a group at table seven. Four young men, armed with guns, awfully quiet and jumpy. Care to take a look?”

“They could have just lost a bet. They might be collecting the remnants of their pride- you tend to do that in silence,” Jeonghan mused.

“Yeah, well, I’d rather you make sure,” you said. “Lieutenant Jeong is here. They’d be stupid to try anything- anything at all, even if it’s just throwing a tantrum.”

“Ah,” Jeonghan got up and smoothened his long dark hair. “I suppose I’ll ask them if they require a better drink to down their shame.”

“Whatever,” you sniggered before going back to your position upstairs. You watched Jeonghan don his jacket as he entered the floor and he looked around, meeting eyes with the group and you both noticed two things-

That their hands went to their hip where the weapons rested, and that they exchanged quick glances with each other. Jeonghan looked at you and you shook your head, urging him to skip the plan and alert the others- it might be an attempt at robbery or worse, but they were so stupid to do that, especially tonight. 

“You’ve restocked their drinks?” You asked Eunbi.

“They just ordered another, Soojin is going to refill their drinks-”

“The new girl?” You shook your head, “She’s been jumpy all night. Stop her, right now. They’re armed, they might do something stupid-”

Before you could finish the sentence or Eunbi could carry out your order, the loud shatter of glass made you both flinch and hold on to each other as you ducked, splinters raining down on you and making you both hiss in pain when some of them met your skin. You tucked Eunbi closer before you raised your head over the counter to assess the situation-

Chaos was the word. Eunbi had been right to be suspicious- the men were now pointing guns at whoever dared to move and another gunshot sounded followed by a guttural yell of the waiter whose arm took the blow. You met eyes with Soojin who stood frozen in the middle of the room and you motioned for her to stay that way.

“No one move!” One of the men shouted, wide eyes relaying the threat. “I’ll shoot you if you move!”

“I’m going to take the register and go to the office,” you whispered to Eunbi who shook her head furiously.

“It’s too dangerous- they’ll shoot you,” Eunbi held your arms in panic but you pried her hands away, squeezing them assuringly.

“I’ll be fine- they won’t spot me. I have to hurry,” you told her and before she could insist, you started crawling away from her, keeping close to the wall and moving towards the backside of the bar, avoiding the shards of glass as best as you could. You had orders to follow- orders Yeosang trusted you would follow at a time like this. You could not disappoint him now after everything he had done for you.

The office was the nearest room from where you sat crouched and if you made a dash for it, you could probably go unnoticed- if the instigators didn’t catch movement from the corner of their eyes. They were too busy forcing the customers to line up against the walls so you could take this chance-

Without thinking any further, you gathered the material of your skirt and thanked the lord that you wore boots instead of your usual heels today as you took a few large steps to disappear into the shadows, now successfully out of their vision. You silently unlocked the door and entered the empty office, taking a deep breath once inside, the adrenaline rush making your head spin. After stealing just a few seconds to calm down, you opened the drawers to make sure nothing of importance was there and then you bent down to access the locker under the desk-

The locker of which you had the key to all this time, but never once checked the contents of. You remembered when Yeosang promoted you from cashier to bookkeeper and told you that not all their transactions were legal- you just had to keep a record and stay shut about it. That, you could do. You kept the key on you at all times, and you took it out from the inside of your skirt’s waistband, unlocking the safe and gathering the two registers and a small packet wrapped way too much to figure out what it held inside. You held the things close to your chest as you made your way out, peeking first to see if the commotion had moved away from your eyeshot. 

You took a turn to the narrow space at your right that led to the back exit, but that was not your destination- the room at the end of that corridor had a passageway that led to another exit in the alley. You slowed down at the sound of footsteps and you wondered if they were coming from right behind you-

Before you knew it, you were being pulled inside the room with a twirl that ended up with your back slamming against the wall, a gasp producing from your lips and freezing midway when you realised just who had pinned you against the wall-

Lieutenant Jeong. And he did not look pleased. 

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Carrying out orders,” you breathed, realising just how tall and broad he was now that he was in front of you, bending to reach your height. You clutched the registers tighter reflexively, your left wrist still in his strong grip. “I’ve been instructed to flee with the contents of the safe in case of an attack.”

“By who?”

“Kang Yeosang,” you said, though you figured he already knew the answer. “I have the key.”

The man scanned you slowly as if that would give him all the answers to the questions he wasn’t asking. He knew you were the bookkeeper, but did he not know that Yeosang trusted you enough with this?

The sound of a few rushed footsteps caused him to let go of your wrists and you rubbed the skin there. It was Yuju accompanied by the manager, Mingyu, and they told Yunho that there were more men outside now.

“Did you figure out who’s behind the attack?” Yunho asked.

“Probably Chan’s gang,” Mingyu huffed, looking at you and relaxing when he saw that you were safe. “I’m going back to get the rest of the employees.”

“I’ll stay here and make sure they get out safely,” Yuju nodded, noticing the items you were clutching. “Luna- go. We’ll call you when things settle down.”

You looked at Yunho- though you didn’t need his permission, you knew that he could very well ruin things for you. He didn’t trust you- he had no reason to. He told you to wait and disappeared out of the room and Yuju widened her eyes in confusion.

“I mean… I can understand,” you shrugged. “Is everyone okay back there?”

“I don’t think they knew that Yunho and his lackeys were here,” Yuju folded her arms, hugging herself. “They’re going to regret it. Whoever it is… they’ll make him regret ever coming up with this plan.”

“Even if it was just San and Yeosang, they couldn’t have won,” you said and Yuju agreed. “They both go a little crazy too.”

“But Yunho-” she shivered. “He’s something else.”

Your lips twitched in amusement despite the gravity of the situation and moments later, Johnny- Yunho’s assistant- appeared, looking battered.

“I thought it was a gunfight- why does it look like you were in a catfight?” Yuju commented, slumping down on one of the chairs and Johnny shot her an annoyed look. 

“One, I didn’t have a gun on me. Two- they touched my hair!” Johnny huffed and you looked at the man in disbelief, all the impression you had of him going down the drain. Yuju was familiar with Johnny so she didn’t seem very surprised at his childish outburst. “Anyone who messes with my face will get worse in return.”

“Understandable,” you muttered. “Can I go now?”

“Oh, you’re staying here,” Johnny urged you to take a seat. “You’re not going anywhere- Yunho’s orders.”

“Wow, okay,” you sank down on the chair. “And you don’t have a gun? If someone comes here and tries to take these away from me?”

“They’ll have to get past me, you don’t need to worry,” he grinned. “You can relax.”

You could, but you were far too nervous to. You didn’t realise how badly you were rocking your legs until Eunbi entered and you groaned in relief to see she was unscathed. “They almost shot me. I can never get used to this.”

“You will get used to it, one day,” you told her, holding her hands and Eunbi squeezed it with an anxious smile, wondering if that was why you seemed mostly unaffected.

The rest of the employees came one by one in a matter of a few minutes, recovering from the initial shock though it quickly wore off since all of you had experienced something like this at least once- and working in a bar owned by a gang, it was bound to happen anyway. Everyone knew better than to call them a ‘gang’ to their face, though- they had spent years to make their business and organisation legal. 

Somewhat legal, you would argue as their bookkeeper who knew that wine wasn’t the only thing being consumed here. Your hand that was clutching the packet in its grip itched in answer and you looked at it in suspicion.

The few new employees like Soojin were definitely in shock and Yuju did her best to calm them down. Johnny was kind enough to crack jokes to lighten the mood and you were glad to see it was working. Some people really were here to make a living and you were sure you were going to lose a few employees after this incident.

The door opened and Yeosang entered, looking unharmed, almost unfazed. He talked with Yuju first in hushed voices- probably something about the damage they would have to deal with. When he spotted you, he smiled and called you over. You got up and followed him outside to the corridor.

“Glad to see someone followed their orders,” he commented.

“I would have gone to that building you’ve told me about but…”

“Yunho stopped you, I know.” He was going in the direction of Room no.1 where he had previously been in with Yunho but when you entered, you found not only San but Park Seonghwa as well, looking as posh as ever. 

The underboss of Crescent Company, he was the one person in all of the gang that you truly had respect for- it didn’t matter that Park Seonghwa was a criminal. You had once seen him help a lost child find his mother, and another time seen him carry a cat with a broken leg in his arms, and that had changed everything. Not only you but the whole town was aware that Park Seonghwa was a man that possessed a functioning heart unlike most of the gangsters here.

However, you were soon going to find how wrong you had been.

“Miss Jeon, please, make yourself comfortable,” Seonghwa’s calm voice sounded and you looked at Yeosang instinctively- what was happening? He only smiled though it didn’t quite meet his eyes, pouring you a drink which you downed- you needed it now more than ever.

“I’m glad to see you’re alright,” Seonghwa said. “You have the contents of the locker?” 

“Right here,” you placed them on the desk and Yunho shifted in discomfort.

“Thank you for keeping them safe,” the underboss took a deep breath. “I understand that you’ve been working here as the bookkeeper for a considerable amount of time now?”

“About a year, yes,” you straightened, suddenly aware of the tension in the room- even San appeared to be squirming, playing with the ends of his sleeves- you’d never seen him fidget like this. “What is this about, if I may ask?”

“And you… do you have some family? Someone you’ve been caring for?”

“Not in Eden, no,” you confirmed.

“Do you have any idea of what these items are?”

“That’s my registers,” you nudged the thick books. “I’ve recorded every transaction here, legal or not. And this…” you held the package in your hand. “I’m afraid I do not know, but if I have to assume… probably the drugs we slip to our VIPs here.”

Seonghwa met eyes with Yeosang who sighed. “I told you. She does not know, but she can be trusted.”

“We have a policy, Yeosang. I know we trust our employees, but the trust can only go so far.”

“If you could tell me what this is about,” you gritted your teeth, knowing fully well where this was going. “Maybe you should just talk to me, Mr. Park.”

“Well, here’s the thing,” he turned his attention to you, fixing his coat. “We cannot let you go since you’ve seen that,” he pointed at the package and you realised that it was not the drug that you were aware of.  

But if not that, then what was it? You shook it slightly and felt the rustling of something powdery. It had to be a drug.

“And?” You countered. “I was assigned by one of you to take this and flee in case of an attack. I’ve simply followed orders.”

Seonghwa’s brow rose subconsciously and he shared a look with Yunho who looked amused- amused? You knew that people didn’t usually talk back to those in power, but you had once been there. They didn’t know that you once had power- some semblance of it, at least. 

“I’ll be forward with you- we are not allowed to share that with anyone outside our circle, and anyone who does see that is subject to execution.”

You looked at Yeosang in disbelief- he knew that, yet he had still assigned you to carry out this job for him. He could have asked anyone, but he chose you, even when he knew Kihyun had recommended you. Kihyun, the leader of the longest standing gang here and Ateez’s partner. He knew how desperate you were for some stability in your life, yet he chose you.

“I chose you because I trusted you,” Yeosang offered, not meeting your eyes lest he saw how betrayed you felt. It didn’t matter anymore, though. 

“You can’t kill me,” you told Yeosang. “You know who recommended me.”

“I’m sure they will understand,” Seonghwa answered in his stead.

“No, actually,” you tossed the packet on the table and folded your arms, liquid courage making its way up unfiltered as you met Yunho’s eyes- the one thing that you hid from him- from all of them. “I’m sure I’ll be much more useful alive.”

Yunho scoffed loudly, not quite believing the shift in your demeanour and the calculation in your voice, but Seonghwa leaned forward as if to question the sheer audacity that you displayed, and if you knew any better, you would have backed down and accepted your predetermined faith, but-

You still had unfinished business. You still had to take down the men of Eden who possessed power yet wielded it against their homeland. You still had to get back at your father for disowning you. You were far from your goal and you simply couldn’t stop here. 

“Miss Jeon… how on earth could you be more useful alive to us?”

You mirrored Seonghwa’s posture, leaning forward as well and though the wide table separated the two of you, you could very well have been inches away considering how fixated your gazes were. “I know things about the people in power that even your angels do not know of, Mr. Park. I know how their minds work, I know their dirty little secrets. I know what to avoid when dealing with them. I could help you shake Eden’s current establishment- you should not kill me.”

A silence spread in the room as they processed your words and assessed your statement- was this a leap of faith or an act of stupidity? Whatever it was, it seemed to be enough. Seonghwa looked at Yunho again who seemed just as surprised as the rest.

“We could strike a deal,” you offered, relaxing back. While you knew that they could kill you right away and move on with their night, you decided that if you were really going to get killed, you could try something.

It wasn’t a bluff, no. You meant each word you said, but it was a gamble on your life. 

“Luna,” Yeosang’s low voice prompted you to turn to him and adhere to his warning but you were still cross with him.

“What deal would that be?” Yunho finally spoke- you supposed that as consigliere to his boss, he handled these matters. “What information do you possess that is worth more than your life?”

“If I give it away right now, you won’t have any reason to keep me alive, would you?” You countered and San huffed in appreciation, making Yunho shoot daggers at him.

“What? She’s smart,” he pouted and you smiled inwardly, glad that he was still the same old San.

“You will have to give us something, darling,” Seonghwa straightened his gun on the table and though the action was casual, it felt like a mockery of how your life was literally in his- in their hands. 

You leaned back to think- you had to play your cards right here, and very carefully. One wrong move and you’d be gone. What was it that you could reveal right now that would make them consider that you were a force to be reckoned with, and would also make them join hands with you? Could you make this mafia gang bend to your will, or were you asking for too much?

You looked around the room, meeting eyes with each one of them, calculating every possible move from here. Most of the information you had was something you couldn’t simply claim to know without blowing your real identity. If they started looking into your background properly this time, they would find out that your surname was borrowed and there was no record of you being here in Eden before 1966- that was four years ago. You came back from Wonderland in ‘66, having spent a few years there looking after your sick aunt and recovering from the shame and anger of being disowned by your father. You couldn’t tell them who your father was- it was far too early for that. 

And since you couldn’t have them finding who your father was, you couldn’t let them know anything related to the pharmaceutical business your father owned, or his connections with the politicians- could you give them some information about a politician? President Lee, perhaps? But you weren’t sure how dangerous he was, maybe someone else-

Your eyes fell on an antique porcelain vase in the corner that looked awfully familiar. Your frown deepened as you tried to recall where you had seen it, and when it clicked, you realised you had your answer.

“You got that vase from Assemblyman Major General Wi, is that right?”

The four of them turned to look at the object you were pointing at. Yeosang confirmed that you were right. You couldn’t help but have your lips curl in a smirk. “You might want to return it. You don’t want to have an object that was used for money-laundering… unless you’re involved.”

Yeosang blinked in confusion, looking at the older two who seemed to be concealing any hints of emotions. San, however, looked just as confused as Yeosang. “How do you know that?”

“That’s not the point,” you told him. “The point is that General Wi’s artefact gallery is just a cover for his money-laundering business. Not a good look for a presidential candidate, is it?”

Seonghwa nodded, perhaps connecting some dots in his head and coming to the conclusion that you may be right. “I’m impressed, Miss Jeon. I will verify this information but I have a feeling that you’re speaking the truth.”

You nodded and Yeosang finally laughed in disbelief. “Who are you really, Luna?”

“Your bookkeeper who’s asking that you take consideration of my loyalty and make a deal,” you said and when Yeosang nodded, you continued. “I… I, too, have unfinished business. You know I was desperate to have stability when I first got a job here- it wasn’t always like this. I will give you all the information that you need as long as you protect me as your source. As long as you keep me safe, because you and I,” you turned to Seonghwa. “We have the same goals.”

“And what might that be?”

“Power and protection,” you said, sure that you were right about the first part but when Seonghwa’s brows twitched, you realised that the shot in the dark with ‘protection’ wasn’t fruitless. “We’ve all got something or someone to protect. I’m protecting myself. You’re protecting your people.”

“You’re very talkative… Luna,” Yunho commented and your heart fluttered at the way he called your name- only the nickname, yet you were wavering. You mentally scolded yourself. “This could be the only information you possess. Not enough.”

“Oh, please,” you countered. “You know I have more- I can’t be running on sheer confidence here. But don’t think for one second that you can torture that information out of me,” you said and when Yunho smiled guiltily, you somehow found yourself smiling back despite the fact that your life was on the line. “Protect me and I’ll make sure your boss overthrows the current establishment and becomes the most powerful man in Eden.”

“Protect you from who?” Yunho asked and you gulped involuntarily, recalling the darkness and emptiness in the eyes of the person the whole nation admired. 

“I can’t say yet, just… keep me in the shadows, for now. Please.”

Yunho looked at Seonghwa- you couldn’t be making this up. Yeosang asked you to go home and that they would give you an answer soon. When you left the room, Yeosang sat down next to San.

“You’re thinking what I’m thinking?”

“She’s not lying, yes,” San confirmed and Yeosang nodded. “She’s only ever worked, right? We’ve been seeing her for a year now. Work and home is all she does, isn’t that so?”

“Yes. I kept an eye on her for a few months before I assigned her with bookkeeping duties- she has no family here. Just a few acquaintances- Kihyun of MX Pharmaceuticals, which I thought was odd, but they were a gang before they became a pharmaceutical company, so maybe she encountered them at some point. They literally know everyone.” 

“And her roommate just so happens to be Wendy.”

“I dismissed it as a coincidence. She couldn’t be one of the RV spies, could she?”

“Nope. They’re far too meticulous.”

“You assigned bookkeeping to a person who was acquainted with both Kihyun and Wendy?” Yunho raised his brows in disbelief. “That’s too big a coincidence, guys.”

“Wendy is under a disguise, Luna probably doesn’t know what she actually does,” Yeosang said. “Besides… I trust her. I really believe it wasn’t necessary to just kill her like that. It’s not like she knows what’s inside this,” Yeosang poked the packet with his finger.

“I don’t think Chan’s gang got a whiff of our drug dealing,” Seonghwa sighed, running a hand through his lengthy locks. “They must have attacked just to get us riled up. They wish to tarnish our reputation because General Wi is choosing sides.”

“We really need to check if the thing about the artefacts gallery is true,” Yunho said. “If it is, we have to tread carefully. Hongjoong will be pissed to learn what happened tonight.”

“I’ll take care of him,” Seonghwa got up. “This girl… Luna?”

“That’s what everyone calls her here,” Yeosang said and Seonghwa nodded slowly.

“She’s something. I’ll verify her information- it’s probably true. Tell her we’ve got a new job for her.”

When you bluffed your way out of your death- though you hadn’t really lied, you did hold information that could ruin Eden- you didn’t expect that you’d find yourself with a new job in the main office of the Crescent Company. You paused in the middle of recording the last entries of the day and your job, only to catch Yeosang watching you with interest. 

You folded your arms, staring back and pulling your lower lip between your teeth in contemplation. 

“Are you sure this isn’t just a trap to kill me? You could just shoot me and get on with your day, why go through all these lengths?”

Yeosang’s rich laughter boomed in the office room and you sent a tired glare in his direction before going back to checking the receipts of the new stock. 

“We would have killed you last night if we really wanted to.”

The nonchalance with which he said that sent a bitter taste down your throat, reminding you of familiar words you had heard a few years ago, but you knew that this situation was different- you had to believe that they were different. Otherwise, there was no hope left for Eden. 

“I’m still mad that you signed me up for death with this job, by the way. That was a low blow.”

“You are our first bookkeeper,” Yeosang said in response. “We just didn’t know what to do… does that sound like a good excuse?”

“Hardly,” you muttered. “I thought we were… acquaintances, if not friends. I respected you, Yeosang.”

Yeosang put a hand on his chest. “Respected? Do you hate me now?”

“I can’t really hate you when you’re… you,” you shut the register, looking at him. 

You had spent long hours with Yeosang in this very office. Somehow, with him, it had always been naturally comfortable and he once admitted that he thought it was odd how you both could be in the same room, busy with your own work yet feeling right at home. Though you barely ever had a heart-to-heart with the man, the impression that he was a scary gangster had vanished long ago. He was scary when he had to be, but he just felt more human than his partners.

“What does that mean?”

“I’m just a little hurt that you delivered me on a platter to your underboss for him to do whatever he wanted with me. Try to understand,” you explained. “And I still respect you, don’t worry.”

“He wouldn’t have killed you. I would have stopped him,” Yeosang insisted.

“You were more nervous than me,” you scoffed. 

“I was nervous for you, that you were going to make a mistake and he would really have to kill you,” Yeosang admitted and you blinked in surprise. “But you did just fine on your own. Are you not going to tell me who you really are?”

“I can’t tell you that yet,” you told him. “I trust you just enough to gamble with my life, but I’ll reveal things only when I’m sure the information would be in safe hands. You have to trust me a little too. It’s not like I can betray you- where would I even go? You’re all going to kill me if I make a mistake anyway.”

Yeosang nodded- you had a point. “Have you got nothing to lose?”

“I’ve already lost everything that I had,” you shook your head. “I’ve only got my life now.”

“I have a feeling you’ll do well in the main office,” Yeosang clapped his hands once in conclusion. “Since you’re already aware that we’re doing both legal and illegal dealings, you can do bookkeeping there. I have to warn you though- if information ever leaks, they will kill you without hesitation.”

“Geez, thanks,” you winced. “Tell me something new.”

“I don’t know where you got the guts to talk back to me,” Yeosang laughed, shaking his head once. “But keep this up and you won’t last long.”

“Why?” You leaned forward on the table in challenge. “Are you and San the only ones who can converse like normal humans?”

“We’re always just a little tipsy,” Yeosang said cheekily and you realised he was right. “You shouldn’t see me when I’m sober.”

You pursed your lips, realising that he was right- if he was anything like the rest of his gang, he had to be drunk all this time if he could tolerate you, a mere employee, talking like you were on his level. 

“Snob,” you muttered and got up to put these registers with the rest of the piles, ignoring Yeosang’s snickers. “Alright, my work here is done.”

“You’re fired,” Yeosang announced with a grin. “I’ve wanted to say that to you for so long.”

“You’re hopeless! I’ve been promoted, not fired,” you corrected.

“Whatever,” Yeosang got up, checking the time on his wristwatch. “San will be here in a few minutes- he’ll accompany you to the main office. You can say your farewells but you’ll be here often. It’s not a goodbye.”

“Okay,” you stood awkwardly for a moment, looking around- the beige walls with paint peeling in the corner, the dark shelves and furniture, the gramophone in one corner that you never played because you could always hear music from outside.  

“I’ll miss this,” you took a deep breath, nodding as you memorised and soaked in the feeling of this room.

“You’ll be back,” he assured, giving you a moment. “Now off you go.”

Sticking your tongue out at him, very out-of-character for you and taking him by surprise, you exited the office. You could hear what his response would have been- ‘just because we decided to keep you alive doesn’t mean that you can act out!’ but it was exactly that. If you had their protection, you would act out- just not to them. 

To the people who wore the cloaks of saints over their demonic hearts and ruled over Eden.

“Luna!,” Eunbi spread her arms as soon as she spotted you and you gladly let her hug you. “I’m gonna miss you so much.”

“I’m hearing I’ll be here often, so you won’t have to worry too much,” you poked her ribs, making her squirm as she laughed. “Just stay safe. And no matter what, do not become their bookkeeper.”

Eunbi frowned at that but before she could ask you more, the bell over the front door chimed and you knew it was San the way the bar suddenly fell quiet. You let go of Eunbi and patted her cheek before meeting eyes with San who waved at you.

Waved. You were a little pleased to see that the new arrangement was as awkward for him as it was for you. Eunbi echoed that out loud with a ‘did he just…?’ and you told her to get back to the counter.

“Hi,” San stifled a smile. “Good to see you’re still in one piece.”

“No thanks to you,” you countered. “Shall we?”

“I’m just going to let Yeosang know that I’m here,” San said, finally chuckling. “Look, if it helps, Seonghwa wasn’t really going to kill you.”

“I keep hearing that, but it just feels like you’re trying to convince yourselves instead of me,” you shook your head. “It doesn’t matter. I'll say my farewell to Yuju.”

You agreed to meet outside in five minutes and you went to find Yuju, who told you to stay safe. Jeonghan looked more worried than Yuju- he had overheard some of their conversation last night about them getting rid of you but you assured him it was alright now.  You just found out something you shouldn’t have so they were just being cautious. Though he didn’t look convinced, he let you go with an affectionate pat to your shoulder and a joke about how no one is going to let him nap in peace anymore.

Before you went outside, you took a look in the mirror and adjusted your black slacks and the rounded collar of your cream blouse before wearing your black coat over it. San was already waiting for you in his car- a black ‘67 Bentley- and you got in the backseat, your heart beating in anticipation.

“It’s not a long drive from here,” San said, “But I thought as an apology, I’d give you a ride.”

“I’ve been in better cars, but I appreciate the sentiment,” you said and San deadpan stared at you. You squirmed, realising an explanation would entail revealing details from your background. “I mean… the condition could definitely improve.”

“Yeah, it’s been through a lot, you’re right, “ San let out a chuckle before glancing at you. “You’re not going to tell me where exactly you’ve been in better cars? Because as far as I know, you were struggling to make a living when you first got a job here.”

“That was because I moved back from Wonderland after a long time,” you fiddled with your pearl ring. “Anyone would struggle.”

“And how do you really know Kihyun?”

Kihyun- he was almost like a brother to you. As a child, you had often seen him go in and out of your house because of some business dealings with your father. Though your father kept you hidden for the most part, having homeschooled you and pretending that you were his niece instead of daughter, Kihyun knew. He was far too smart to be deceived by a simple lie, and your brother had made it painfully obvious that he hated you for a reason. And when everything went wrong, Kihyun was there as a shield. 

He had offered you a place in his company too, but you could not possibly involve Kihyun into your plans for the demise of your enemies. You respected him far too much to drag him into your mess.

“He’s just a connection- we have a few mutual acquaintances.”

“And who might they be?” San asked but you shook your head.

“I can’t reveal their identities… yet,” you said and when he narrowed his eyes, you stifled a smile. “Is there something I should know before we reach the office?”

“Well,” San exhaled, thinking. “It’s going to be quite different from the bar- more professional and tense. I’m sure the secretaries you’ll work with will warm up to you eventually but they might come off as unwelcoming or prickly at first.”

“We’ll see,” you said. “And… will I be interacting with… one of you often?”

“Why?” San questioned, a playful smile gracing his lips. “Is there someone you’d like to interact with?”

“That’s not what I mean-” you started but the car came to a halt and with a dirty look thrown in San’s direction, you got out of the car and craned your neck to look at the double-story building that was the main office for Crescent Company.

It wasn’t anything much, and you knew that that was intentional. Just like all the other office buildings in this somewhat posh area of the town, it had a chestnut brick wall with a new moon that made up for the ‘c’ in crescent. The guard situated at the front door bowed to San as you entered. The employees inside acknowledged San’s presence, halting what they were doing and only resuming once San nodded. There were a handful of them- a receptionist and a few workers coming in and out of the unlabelled rooms. You supposed everyone was assigned a task and had respective offices.

“This is us,” San announced, motioning at the somewhat lifeless interior. “Nothing much, and we would like to keep it that way. You’ll be working upstairs with Jihoon and Eunha- they are our boss’ secretary.”

“Mr. Park’s?” You questioned as you followed him at the end of the hall towards the stairs.

“And Hongjoong’s,” San said and you paused in the middle of ascending the stairs.

“I’m going to work for Kim Hongjoong?”

“Relax,” San snickered. “He’s always holed up in his office if he’s not in the field, and Jihoon does the assistant work. You won’t encounter him too much.”

“That’s not the point,” you muttered. You reached the upper story to see three rooms across the spacious hall which was set up as an office itself. There were two people working in that space, sitting in front of the windows where there were three desks in a row. It didn’t look out of place since their workspaces were spread across the entirety of the hall. The empty desk looked a bit odd, though, and you reckoned it had been set for you which meant they must have moved things around a bit.

“I’ll leave you to get acquainted with them,” San said. “There won’t be much to do for a few days until they think you can handle the work.”

When Jihoon’s burning gaze met yours indicating his annoyance- already?- you gulped. Perhaps, you should have stuck to the bar or denied their offer. Jihoon was quick to change his expressions as he rose from his seat.

“Mr. Choi,” Jihoon greeted and Eunha looked a bit surprised as if she hadn’t heard you two come. She followed with her own greeting, tucking her short pink hair behind her ear in what looked like a nervous habit.

“This is… Jeon y/n- the new secretary. I hope you’ll train her well. She’s already familiar with bookkeeping so I don’t think she’ll have to learn much.”

“No worries, we’ll handle it,” Jihoon said. “Nice to meet you, Miss Jeon.”

“Nice to meet you too. You can just call me Luna- everyone does.”

“That’s a pretty name,” Eunha shook hands with you. “This is your desk, and I’ll give you a walkthrough before Jihoon takes you around the office, is that okay?”

“Sure,” you nodded, feeling hopeful. You turned to San. “I think I got it from here.”

“Very well,” San nodded. “Take care of her- she’s got potential.”

Jihoon only smiled in response and as soon as San was out of sight, he slumped down on his desk and went back to typing. You turned to Eunha who only smiled awkwardly, muttering ‘he’s a bit cranky at times’ and you shrugged. You could deal with cranky.

Eunha told you about your duties- bookkeeping since you had experience, typing a report each night that Mr. Park or Mr. Jeong would be signing, and any other miscellaneous tasks that Eunha and Jihoon couldn’t cover in their shift hours. Once she was done briefing, she handed you over to Jihoon who made a display of grunting in annoyance before he guided you downstairs to the last room which was essentially a storage.

“You must know that not all the business under the Crescent Company is legal,” he said and you nodded. “Where would you keep the record of illegal transactions?”

“Definitely not here?” 

“Here,” he corrected, “but concealed while still being right in front of your eyes. In the case of a raid by the detectives because a certain inspector has been on our case for a while, they will take everything in here, right? The illegal transactions are kept in a safe behind that painting,” he pointed towards the mediocre painting of cherry trees in the darkest corner of the room. 

“And the key?”

“A code, this time,” he said. “I’m still hesitant about sharing it with you but Mr. Choi said you could be trusted.”

“I’ve handled such matters before, yes,” you told him, understanding why he was sceptical about you. “There’s a reason I’m here.”

“That is definitely not the reason why you’re here,” Jihoon scoffed loudly. “Just because you passed a little trust test does not mean you get a position as the boss’s secretary. Eunha and I have worked under them since the beginning- that’s a plausible reason. They trust us.”

Though you wanted to argue with the man, you decided that you would be better off being civil towards him if you had to tolerate him to keep your job. 

“Who else knows the key?”

“Apart from the boss, underboss and consigliere… only Eunha and I. So if information leaks, if the location of the safe leaks-”

“I’ll be the obvious suspect, of course,” you nodded and Jihoon considered you for a moment before acknowledging your answer. 

“Our schedules are going to change now, so there is always at least one person out of the three of us in the office at all times, though the three of us must always be present in the 12 to 2pm slot. In case of an emergency, you are expected- obliged to get down here and escape with the contents of this safe, is that clear?”

“Clear as day,” you confirmed.

“1024 is the code,” Jihoon said and you nodded, memorising it. “Now, let me show you where we keep the official records.”

You took note of every little thing Jihoon had to tell you. Eunha observed how you worked for the rest of the evening and made you acquainted with the methods that you were to use. You were familiar with the work- you had already been in charge of tracking expenses, monitoring budget and keeping a record of all the financial transactions in the Crescent Bar. Eunha was going to take care of tax payments and returns while Jihoon was going to supervise. 

It was a manageable workload so you were pleased with your current position- you just hoped the two would warm up to you soon. You did not expect them to get along with you, you just prayed they would remain civil and not stir any trouble.

Your schedule was going to change from the next day and your shift was from 6pm to midnight- or more, if the need be- and you would also have to be present in the 12 to 2 pm slot. Since you were going to be the one who would lock up the office, you received a set of keys which included one for the storage, one for the main door, and one for Jeong Yunho’s office- in case he or Park Seonghwa weren’t present- to lock away those documents. You were to place them in the cupboard in Mr. Jeong’s room.

While you were in the office today, you didn’t encounter any of your bosses. You figured their absence wasn’t unusual since no one was talking about them. Eunha helped you prepare the report that you were to hand over tonight in her stead if anyone did visit the office because she had a work appointment and needed to be there. She told you to make sure that all the locks are in place before you leave for home.

While you waited for the clock to strike midnight- which was about twenty minutes from now- you busied yourself with scratching your pencil at a piece of paper that was going to be discarded anyway. One thing that calmed you like nothing else was the feeling of the pencil’s lead rubbing against the grains of the paper and leaving a mark for you to play with. With a very specific picture in your mind, you continued to draw straight lines, sharp curves and edges, adding the elements of threat and danger where needed, but preserving the softness of it all-

“What are you doing here?”

You looked up to find not the person you were hoping to see but the person you wanted to avoid the most.

Jeong Yunho.

Lieutenant Jeong Yunho, all dressed up in a black suit with engraved silver buttons, the black tie loose on his neck, his hands hidden in the pockets of his pants. Your eyes travelled up to his parted lips, to the muscles of his jaw flexing and unflexing, to his dark gaze trained not on you but lower- what was he looking at-

You subconsciously put a hand over your incomplete sketch and got up in greeting. “Lieutenant Jeong. I have the report- Eunha had a work engagement.” 

“I see,” he nodded slowly as if still coming to terms that you were to work here now. You could return the sentiment- it was a strange feeling to see him here. You had acknowledged each other’s presence in silence and at rare times, shared a drink (you didn’t often drink at the bar). But standing across each other in this formal setting… 

“Well?”

You broke out of your trance, feeling heat creep up your neck. Perhaps, you were waiting for him to call you to his office. Had you expected him to do that because Yeosang had done the same once? He had been so nonchalant about everything but right now, you felt overwhelmed. You fumbled with the folders until you dug out the report, cursing yourself internally because why didn’t you place it right on the top? 

You extended your hand and he drew closer to grab the document from you, reminding you once again of how tall he was. You gulped- there was no way to explain what you were feeling except a crushing sense of intimidation that made you feel so very small. It had been about a year, yet whenever you were in his presence, your mind took you back to memory lane- 

Specifically the lane near the bar where he ended his enemies and found you watching. Neither of you ever addressed why you had been there or why he had done all of that mercilessly.

“Looks fine,” he said, turning the few pages and skimming through them. “You can leave now- it’s almost closing time. I’ll lock the doors behind me”

“Alright…” were you two the only ones inside the building? “Goodnight, Lieutenant.”

“You don’t have to call me lieutenant, you know,” he said and you met his eyes again, finding the ends of his lips slightly curled in a… smile? Or was that a smirk? 

“How would you have me address you then?”

Somehow, it oddly reminded you of a similar conversation you had with Yeosang, except you had been calling him ‘sir’ and he couldn’t stop snorting everytime you called him that. He let it be for the entire day until he told you to just call him Yeosang- calling him sir in an informal environment only earned him odd looks. You argued that apart from the selected few employees, literally everyone called him ‘sir’ or a variation of it, but he insisted that you already sounded like something was stuck up your [redacted] and he didn’t want to add on to that.

That was the only time he saw your composure break. The rest was history.

The consigliere shrugged, giving you yet another glimpse of the person he was. He didn’t like to be called lieutenant, even though this was a formal environment.

“Mr. Jeong then, since everyone calls you that,” you concluded. 

“And do you still go by Luna?”

“I… do.”

He nodded once, his gaze falling at the paper you were hiding from him. You kept your hand placed over it and he turned, disappearing into his office. You didn’t miss the frustrated grunt that escaped his mouth as he shut the door.

Your shoulders relaxed and you picked the paper- he had definitely seen and recognised the gun that you had just seen last night on the table, and he probably recognised the hand that held it as well- the long, slender fingers that radiated delicacy despite being roughed up. 

The hand of the underboss of Crescent Company. Someone you had wished to meet before the night ended.

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[romanscool]

Hey I love ur stories so I was wondering if u could give me recommendations for the best AO3 MAXIEL stories you've read if u don't mind, thnx 💜💜

hi anon! thank you so much for this ask!! I always love recommending maxiel stories,,,

i have way too much, but I've tried to skim through them and pull out the ones I could read over and over again without ever being bored of it. so anyways, here you go, my fav 13 maxiel fics in no particular order:

I know your name (but not who you are) by @prongsofficial (rated G)

“Hi, Daniel,” the man at his door says, tentative with a sideways smile. There’s sweat on his hairline and two cage-like boxes in his hands. He hears a meowing come out of them when he shifts to set them down. “Max,” Daniel breathes out, floored and caught in the way Max rubs at his own arm awkwardly. Max just smiles. -- Based on the Stick Season (Forever) album by Noah Kahan

a hauntingly beautiful nine-chapter non-linear fic about what could've happened if Daniel had to retire after his hand injury in Zandvoort 2023. Gorgeous. Just the right amount of angst, fluff and crushing dialogues.

dead heat by @powerful-owl (rated E)

"Oh my god. Okay, you’re an alpha. Yeah, Max? You’re an alpha?” Max looks up, tongue lapping at the webbing between Daniel’s fingers. He waits for his thoughts to print into words: paper roll unfurling, sticky nozzles stamping please, need, yours. He just nods. “You’re an alpha.” Daniel laughs, reedy and weird. “Max, what the fuck. Why are you on your knees?”

I'm not usually into a/b/o fics but this one. this hit and still hits me everyday. I have read it almost three times now (keep in mind this is a 35-chapters/200k words fic) and I can't believe how well written it is. the smut is beautiful, angsty and punch-to-the-gut. worth every seconds spent reading it. I also really liked the fact that this is not your traditional a/b/o dynamics, with the little weak omega getting roughly fucked by perma-rut alpha. nope. it's so much more.

breaking every rule for you by @magicalrocketships (rated E)

Daniel's always been competitive. He's never backed down from a challenge, even if it's one he doesn't understand the rules of and doesn't remember signing up for. But he knows this: if Max sends him a dick pic, then Daniel sends one back. Or, it’s Daniel's first year at Renault, and Max hasn't spoken to him in months.

soul-cushing, kink-finding, whatever the fuck even fic. no words to describe this one I think. it's messed my brain up. anyway. 200k words of max and Daniel being idiots, max with a girlfriend he doesn't love and Daniel not accepting he's in love with max. all that while sending dick pics everyday. hot. beautiful. made me cry and bite into my own arm because of how I wish I could just grip both their heads and smash them like barbies so they can kiss.

that's where I am by @flawlessassholes (rated E)

“Her name is Emily,” Daniel says softly. Max’s eyes snap down to the baby, still sleeping on Daniel’s chest. It’s—she’s snoring a little. In that snuffly way that babies snore. “Short for Emilian.” His eyes snap back to Daniel’s face, so serious, and Max knows it’s a joke, of course, but he still opens his mouth to say— Then Daniel’s face breaks into that wide grin, the real one, the one Max hasn’t seen since. Well. In a while. It feels at once so familiar, and also like seeing something rise from the dead.

There’s a month between Melbourne and Baku. A month to convince Daniel to return to racing. A month to learn and relearn how to love. A month for everything to feel right amidst a season that has felt nothing but wrong. A month to create a family, and a month to maybe lose it all.

daniel has a baby and max learns how to deal with that. all that while Emily (dan's kid) is the cutest baby ever. made my heart ache in the best way, had me having a baby-fever for 8 chapters. the smut is gorgeous, the story had me weeping and I could not believe how someone could even come up with such a well-rounded idea. gorgeous.

haven't you heard what becomes of curious minds? by vivienne_xoxo (rated E)

Daniel is on the verge of quite possibly nothing in his last year of high school. Max is on the verge of everything in his sophomore year. The one thing that connects them is soccer, squash, and track and field. Being at different schools, they only see each other once per season for games. However, they find themselves meeting in the spaces between, unknowing of what it all really meant. As Daniel nears graduation with a GPA of a whopping 2.0, a sexuality crisis, and a blonde twisted in his bedsheets and his brain, the one thing he really knows is that he's so, so fucked. OR: A sports rivals with benefits, strangers to lovers Maxiel fic that no one really wanted. Literally just the school I go to right now but with changed names.

everything a teen!maxiel fic could ever want to be. teens in love, max and Daniel going through everything that comes with that. sexuality crises all over the place, hormones, too. love it. this is the fic that made me want to start my own teen!maxiel. it's funny, angsty, has way too many crack-worthy dialogue. I love it.

a sure thing by @thewindowatkirkland (rated E)

Afterwards, once they’ve headed back inside on unsteady legs and showered in Max’s insane ensuite, Daniel pulls on his clothes and watches Max do the same. He’s always quieter after sex, once the adrenaline and dopamine have receded some. Daniel gets it, the whole hooker thing is more awkward for most people once the fucking is actually over. “How much do you charge for a full night?” Max asks, after he transfers the fee for today, the little notification pinging on Daniel’s phone. M. E. Verstappen has sent you a payment. Daniel doesn't bother to check the amount, Max will have rounded it up to the nearest thousand anyway, just like he always does. OR: daniel is an escort, max is a five time world champion, and also one of his regular clients. (aka, the hooker!dan au)

gorgeous. no words. 30k of hooker!Daniel that had me going a little crazy. so many good smut scenes, so many insane dialogues, so many insane angsty moments that aren't angst but feel like it... love love love it. I've read it a couple times already and it always has me on the floor. beautiful and breathtakingly so.

growing sideways by @thewindowatkirkland (rated E)

“We’re in Monaco,” Max says, “and you haven’t lived in either of those places for a very long time, Daniel. Since 2013.” It must be fucking amnesia, Daniel reasons, because when he went to bed last night it was July 2012. And here a grown up Max Verstappen is, telling him 2013 was a very long time ago. OR: daniel wakes up in a bed he doesn’t recognise, next to a man he doesn’t know.

what if Daniel woke up as his 2012 self with braces and awkward limbs but he's in his 2024 self bed, next to his 2024 self boyfriend (max) and he can't understand how any of this is happening? that's it. that's the plot. loved the little references, the race watching, the max trying to make Daniel learn everything they've had since 2012. the virgin smut. hot. but. everything about this fic is so, so sweet. it's gentle. like a hug after a long day, it takes you in and you never want to let go, especially because it has Daniel's fucked up teeth/braces in it. (joking but you know how I am with teeth, right?)

(just let me) adore you by @sillystappen (rated G)

One night, Max confronts the monster under his daughter's bed. Turns out, that monster is a very kind mothman called Daniel.

adorable. mothman!daniel (beautiful, beautiful, woah) takes car of max's daughter because other monsters might want to hurt her. so, so sweet. max is gentle but obsessed, and who can blame him even, Daniel is gentle, gentle, gentle, and caring, and so. argh. sorry. I'm obsessed with the fluff, the daughter, the developing bond between max and moth!Daniel. short and so cute.

auditory stimulator by togenkyo (rated E)

There are no rules for falling in love. It can happen to anyone, anytime, anywhere. Max may not be well experienced in love, but he's pretty sure that "Falling in love with a guy you met when you accidentally picked up the phone at a sex hotline." should be a rule.

so funny. had me giggling in a public space over silly roommates trying to get max laid/in a couple. so fun and quirky, really had pulled in from seeing 'Phone Sex Operators' in the tags. I'm glad I read this. great dialogue, story and characters.

hey, remember that time by @powerful-owl (rated E)

There’s a snowstorm outside and a snowstorm in Max’s head. “Yes, okay. What.” “I think I’m gay? Pretty sure. Or like. Hella bi. Cause I think I’d still – if you were a – sorry. My body likes you, Max.” — (Max owns an inn and Daniel has amnesia.)

so funny... love, love, love. I always love those kind of stories, the AU with amnesia and all, but this one is genuinely the best I've ever read. I love all of @powerful-owl 's fics, but this one. it has me in a chokehold. read it again during the holidays for the snowy/angsty/smutty vibes and the scenes always have me giggling or crying. sometimes both at the same time. can't believe she has the power to write such good scenes like the bathroom one. description is just gorgeous, smut is always really good and goofy and. yeah. love it. can't say I've ever been let down by one of her works.

new wave (new emotions) by nothoughtsjustvibes (Kitkatieb) (rated G)

In which Max realizes he’s in love with Daniel and flies to Colorado to make it Lewis’s problem. Lewis just wants him to leave – preferably on a plane to Australia.

so so fun. lewis' POV, which is always really fun to read, especially since it's maxiel. just. lewis objective on the whole 'yes max, Daniel is in love with you, too' situation without actually saying it out loud. cause max has to figure it out for himself. really, really cool and original. loved reading.

two's company, three's a crowd by Whippasnappa (rated E)

“I need to be good at these things so it does not matter when. When they see.” Max says. He's- Daniel's chest feels like its caved in. Max looks so fucking ashamed, and his eyes are wet, lashes fluttering like he’s trying to blink away tears. “See what? Max?” He can’t- there’s nothing about Max that Daniel could imagine would be so off-putting that someone wouldn’t want him. Clearly there’s more to it, then, the reason why Max hasn’t hooked up before. “It is small.” Max says.

whippasnappa is a genius on this one. small dick!max is alway shy fav max but this one,,, gorgeous. breathtaking. couldn't stop staring at y screen even if I died. could've died actually. had me having three heart attacks. have never come back from this one. arghhhh

we predict blue skies and tight pants by dontburnme

The sight just made him dizzy. The hottest man he’s ever fucking seen flipping off a cliff into the murky Oslo waters twenty seven meters high up. Or, Daniel’s a Red Bull high diver and Max experiences an out of body experience watching him.

in which, Daniel is a diver and max watches him dive. and dies, a little. it's crazy, crazy good. had me a little crazy, pulling my hair out by the end of it. I, too, had an out of body experience. crazy, crazy, crazy, and such a fun concept. alway love me some short and sweet AU-fics.

bonus!!: high and dry by @jermeows

real cowboys ride cock, y'know right?

technically not a fic but. it's such wonderful fanart I HAD to include it. maxiel cowboys; what more is there to say...

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Just Take It | Jeon Jungkook | Part 8

Summary: Jungkook's feelings for you have grown immensely and he can't hold himself back from being honest anymore. Pairing: Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap) Word Count: 2.6K~ (I know it's short but it was at a good stopping point and I couldn't figure out how to continue it without a big time skip/harsh break so yeah enjoy this mini chapter 😅) Warnings: No warnings just fluff a/n: Another almost four months and I only have a little bit for you 😔 I'm still trying to figure out how I want to go about finishing this story (yes it's close to the end) so please bear with me 😪 but either way I hope you enjoy!

Ever since I told him last month that I didn't want to be friends anymore and by default telling him that I wanted to be with him things have been different.

We've settled into a new routine with the tension between us no longer burning to the point I shy away but something that feel natural, domestic even. 

I guess you could say that's pretty obvious from the fact that we're living together but his subtle touches are welcomed and expected.

Things as simple as his hand on my lower back as he passes by or his arms wrapped around me from behind with his chin propped up on my shoulder or even a kiss on the forehead are all things that we've settled into and it makes me feel loved. 

Love is still a scary word for me to think about or even say aloud but it's something I feel towards him, deeply, hopelessly, painfully.

At times I remember that things could suddenly change without warning. That he could toss me out as soon as he gets fed up with waiting like Jared did. That he cou-. 

"Ow!" I cry out when he pinches my side, "What was that for?" I whine, the spot he abused  already sore. "I've been calling your name for five minutes and you didn't respond so..." he chuckles and I hum, not having the energy to scold him further. 

He wraps his arms around my waist and props his chin on my shoulder just like I had been thinking about while spacing out, leaving me relaxing into him, the feeling of being in his arms taking away some of the anxiety that had started to build. 

"You okay?" he asks, placing a kiss on my cheek to which I hum again, nodding along with it. "You sure, because you've been stirring your coffee for the past seven minutes" he says, my hand stilling once he points it out. 

I take a drink of the completely cold beverage and sigh in defeat, realizing that his words are true. 

"I wanted it cold anyways" I mumble and turn to walk over to the freezer to add some ice, Jungkook letting go but still staying close. 

"Something's wrong" he says after observing me for another second or two, very used to reading my body language. "Nothing's wrong I'm just...tired" I reply and the truth is I am. 

"My internship has been kicking my ass and I don't know, I guess it's all starting to catch up to me" I relent and he takes a turn humming, knowing I'm not telling him the whole truth. 

"You know you can tell me anything right?" he says, coming closer and cradling my face in his hands, granting him a sad smile in return. 

"I know, but I promise I'm fine. It's just been a long week that's all" he studies my features for a while and decides to take my word for it, seeing that I'm not ready to talk about it. He nods his head a tiny bit before leaning in and giving me a soft kiss on my lips, one that lasts but a moment before pulling away.

"You wanna watch something tonight?" he asks and I smile as my answer, making him chuckle. "I'll make the snacks if you wanna go choose" he offers and I nod, my face still cradled in his hands so he gives me one last kiss before letting go and leaving our source of entertainment up to me.

~~~~

As the movie we've already watched and fallen in love with plays Jungkook notices my absence even though I'm cuddled up next to him, my reactions being minimal to nonexistent.

The parts we always laugh at are met with the sounds of his enjoyment and not mine so he pauses it and waits for me to notice which I don't for a while leaving him even more worried. 

"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours Bunny? Did I do something wrong?" he asks and I sit up, needing him to know that he hasn't. "No, no you've been wonderful, better than I deserve honestly" I say, mumbling the last part but of course he hears it loud and clear.

"I'm good to you because I love you and you do deserve it, that's all" he admits so freely that I almost don't catch it. "You...what?" I ask, almost too scared to breathe. "I love you" he says with a crooked smile, clearly enjoying my practically speechless state.

I sit there for a minute, stunned into silence, not having expected that at all but he just laughs. "What? You didn't think I loved you?" he asks, brushing a stray strand of hair off of my face, letting his fingers trail down my neck before withdrawing his hand.

"No...I mean maybe? Isn't it a little too early for I love you's?" I ask, tentative to say it after I had been burned by...

"I don't think so. I mean it might be forward but I've loved you for a long time and I've cared about you even longer. You're someone that has been a constant in my life for many many years and the fact that you've given me permission to hold you, kiss you...well it's something that I don't think I can hold back anymore" he confesses, making me feel as though my heart might explode. 

"I-" "You don't have to say anything. Take your time and only say it if you truly mean it Darling. I don't want to rush you into anything you're not ready for" he says, chancing caressing my face again and rubbing his thumb along my bottom lip. 

"Come here" he says and pulls me in, having me straddle him not for anything sexual but just for the need to hold me close. 

I burry my face in his neck and he rubs my back, knowing that I feel vulnerable since although he's not rushing me, I know he'll be waiting for an answer. 

"I'm scared" I mumble against his skin and he hums, understanding the situation honestly more than I wish he did. He witnessed the ups and downs of the relationship between Jared and I and sat on the sidelines, knowing he could treat me better but caring about me too much to take away my right to make my own decisions and choose who I love even if it wasn't him. 

"Take your time Bun. You know I'll always be here for you, no matter how long it takes" he reassures me of what I knew, making me nod and wrap around him even tighter, taking his words as genuine but still terrified that this could all slip away at any moment. 

~~~~

A week goes by and I still haven't said it and it's killing me.

When he says goodbye he says it, whenever we've been intimate he says it, he even says it randomly just to try to make me smile but my mind won't truly let it sink in until I say it back.

"Baby?" he asks, knocking on my partially ajar door, seeing that I've been taking a little while longer to get out of bed this morning. 

I hum and let him come in, trying to assess the state I'm in before saying anything else as he comes and sits down on my side of the bed, looking down at me and placing his hand on my waist. I'm still laying down, not having made an effort to get up just yet which I know worries him as well but he doesn't push me too hard. 

"You not feeling well?" he asks, now going to check my temperature with the back of his hand but not noticing a fever of any sort making his theory very short lived. "No, just tired" I say quietly, not having spoken a word since I woke up, my voice still raspy which I can tell he enjoys but doesn't comment on this time.

"You want me to make you something? It's already lunch time and you haven't eaten all day huh?" he asks, knowing the answer but still allowing me the chance to reply. "Yeah maybe something simple like a sandwich?" I request and he nods.

"Want me to get it from that sandwich place we love?" he suggests, rubbing small circles on my waist but I shake my head. "No I'm craving one of your sandwiches" I say making him smile, knowing one of his favorite forms of praise is compliments on his cooking. 

"Okay Bun, the usual?" he asks, knowing exactly what I want but asking just in case I'm feeling like something a little different today but I nod my head in approval making him lean down and place a kiss on my forehead before asking if I want him to bring it up here to which I decline. 

"I need to get out of bed at some point" I say and he shrugs, "You're allowed to have a lazy day every once in a while if you'd like. I could even come join you later on?" he proposes making me smile, in favor of his suggestion. 

"Can we take a nap after lunch?" I ask and he smirks a bit, testing the waters to see what I'm actually asking for. "Just a regular nap this time" I roll my eyes leaving him sighing dramatically before leaving, telling me he'll call me down when it's ready.

Once he's gone the doubt that has been plaguing my mind comes circling back.

'What if he's just saying that to take pity on me? What if he's saying it to rush me into something I'm not ready for? What if-' I groan, cutting off the spiral that I send myself down every time I'm alone and throw the blankets off before going into my bathroom and throwing cold water on my face, glaring at myself in the mirror, daring me to keep acting like this.

He loves me. He loves...me. Why am I so torn up about this? People say it all the time so it's not like it's the end of the world. It's just that...well next time I say it I want to mean it. The next time I say it I want it to be real. 

I want to say it to the man that I'll promise to say it to forevermore. 

Call me a hopeless romantic all you want but if I'm going to trust someone with my heart again I don't want to regret it...

~~~~

"Here you go Bunny" he says and places my sandwich in front of me. "I love you" I mumble, softer than I've ever said anything before but it makes his movements stutter. 

"What was that Darling?" he asks, sitting down in the seat next to me at the table. "I um...I said 'Thank you'" I chicken out and although he wants to call me out on it he doesn't.

"You're welcome baby" he says, his smile a little brighter when he realizes that I'm trying, that I want to say it too but I just don't have the confidence yet. 

"Anything for you" he finishes and caresses my cheek before getting up and grabbing his plate along with our drinks. 

"You sure you're feeling alright?" he asks, my silence through lunch palpable since whenever he tries to start up a conversation I give him small short answers that make his efforts die in his throat. 

"I've just been feeling a little funky that's all" I say and he hums, contemplating his next words which surprise me. "I'm sorry" he says, defeated and honestly quite vulnerable. "Why are you apologizing?" I ask, not thinking that he would have done anything that would require something like that. 

"I knew you weren't ready and I rushed things but I wanted to be able to say what I felt for you because it was eating me alive. Having to cut off my sentences and not being able to speak my mind fully, holding you as close to my heart as possible but not being able to tell you that you had it in the palm of your hand already I just...I couldn't do it anymore" he says, his whole demeanor shifted into an almost sorrowful state that I can't hold it back anymore.

I can't keep hurting him like this when all I want to do is scream it for all to hear, even if the thought terrifies me.

"I love you" I say making his head pop up from it's dropped state, then feeling guilty and looking at his lap again as a result. "You don't have to say it just because I did. I just wanted to apologize because I know that that's was why you've been feeling so off lately" he says but I shake my head. 

"The thought of giving my heart to someone again scares the shit out of me. After...well after going through all of that the thought of opening myself up again was not something I wanted to do. I will admit I sought you out out of lust at first but as our friendship and eventual relationship began to grow I realized that I cared about you a whole lot more that I should" I say, me now with my head turned down, not being able to keep the intense eye contact he's giving me, hanging on every word. 

"I didn't know if you were doing these things for me because you felt sorry or because you truly cared. I know now that doubting your motives was honestly my own self doubt getting the best of me. You've done nothing but love and care for me since the beginning and I haven't let myself fully process the fact that I'm..." I cut myself off and take a deep breath.

"The fact that I'm falling in love with you" and although he said those words first the admission alone has me feeling as though he hadn't, as if he would change his mind now that I reciprocated his confession but he does anything but that, further confirming his true intentions for me as he pulls me closer. 

He doesn't pull me in with a carnal passion in mind, he doesn't even pull me in for a kiss, he pulls me in and holds me close, telling me wordlessly that he's proud of me. That he's proud of me for taking that step, for trusting him with my heart, my mind, soul, fully consumed by him without abandon.

"Thank you" he whispers, his face being buried in my hair making me laugh at the ticklish feeling. "Don't make it weird" I say and poke his side making him flinch and hold me tighter. "How can I not? The woman I love loves me back" he chuckles and when I try to pull back he squeezes me tighter. 

"Just let me have my moment" he huffs making me sigh and return his crushing embrace. "I love you" he says making me burry my face into his neck, mumbling it against his skin in return. 

"Nah nah nah, say it like you mean it" he says, pushing me back just enough so he can look at me. "But I do mean it!" I roll my eyes, playing into his pouty act. "Come on, say it!" he says, pushing me back and forth, making me sway. 

"I already said it, why do you need to hear it again?" I chuckle when his pout gets deeper. "Okay fine" I give in making his brows raise at my quick defeat. "I love you" I whisper in his ear and then run away, his hold on me having loosened from pure shock of my honesty, knowing now that I truly truly mean it. 

"Get back here!" he scolds once he's come back down to earth, the surprise replaced with determination, his intentions being to not let me go til sunrise.  

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[thefixations-ofmine]

liquid courage and a support system

Bucktommy | 2.8k | Rated mature (no smut) Entry for the @bucktommywinterfest, round 5 Dec. 29 - Jan. 4 prompt: Midnight kiss a/n: this is an idea I got from this exchange here. Again, I suck at titles so please bear with me. There will be a follow-up smut chapter to this, that I will post for a Bingo challenge. And then next week's prompt for the Winter fest will be the following conversation in the morning. Oh and apparently Sal's wife's name is Gina (saw someone say that in the tags and I liked it).

Main Masterlist | Winter fest | AO3

“Buck, hey! What’s-”

“Eddie!” Buck shouts his name through the phone as soon as he hears his voice. He takes a giggly breath before proceeding; “I’m at a bar downtown with Lucy. Remember Lucy? When you-you quit working with us? Anyway, she told me to go out and have some fun!”

“That’s nice, Buck. So, are you having fun?” There’s a silence after Eddie’s question while Lucy tries to say something from a few feet away, and Buck remembers he’s on a phone call he initiated;

“Hey Eddie, Eddie,” he says, suddenly serious. “I need your help with something.”

“I’m sure that’s why you called.”

Buck bites the insides of his cheeks, second-guessing for a moment until a member of the 133 chimes in and convinces him to go through with the plan. They’d all been sitting around some nachos for an hour, the members of the 127 whining about Tommy’s attitude since the break-up and the 133 chipping in that there had to be an explanation to all of it. In the end, they took Buck’s side of the story, even Lucy, and he knew he hadn’t been worried for no reason.

“I need to go see Tommy before midnight.”

It’s a quick conversation after that. Eddie makes sure Buck knows what he’s doing because if Tommy hadn’t been vocal about the situation to anyone, he might not react so well to being pressured, mostly not tonight of all nights. Despite his friendly advice, Buck insists and convinces Eddie to pick him up and drive him there.

Which he does, thirty minutes and another round of Tequila later.

When they drive onto Tommy’s street, Buck turns the radio off to unscramble the speech in his brain that he intends on giving to maybe, very hopefully, get Tommy to have a conversation with him. At the very least, they both need more context and if Tommy had an actual reason to stay away, Buck would comply. But Lucy was honest when she said she saw a change in Tommy’s demeanor and it wasn’t for the best.

Buck takes deep breaths that contrast the chill December air. His window is starting to fog and Eddie notices.

“There’s still time to turn around, man.” Eddie offers, and Buck shakes his head. He’s gotta do this. For the both of them.

“I’m okay, yeah. I’m okay.” Buck rubs his hands onto his jeans - the tight blue ones he remembers were Tommy’s favourites. The same jeans he wore on the night- Buck shakes his head.

Yeah, he really needs to talk to Tommy.

The house looks a little different, and in his current state, Buck can’t really tell why. The grass is a little longer than usual, but that’s not it. Tommy was never a fancy landscaping guy so the hedge and small bushes are the same. New roof? Nope. Then Buck’s eyes fall onto the bright red, 2019 Charger parked in the driveway and his brows bend with curiosity. Did Tommy have that bad of a crisis that he made an impulsive (and expensive) decision?

Ha! Buck silently laughs to himself now. Ironic.

Eddie catches the change in energy and tries to comfort his friend; “I remember he told me he was thinking of getting a more recent sports car because working on classics was becoming expensive.”

“But he loved his truck. I loved his truck…” Buck whispers, reminiscing over their short trips and the laughs they shared eating take-out and watching planes take off at Burbank. It would make sense though, that Tommy would get rid of such a big piece of them.

Once the truck is parked by the eye-sore, Buck nods and thanks Eddie for driving him over, saying that he’d catch an Uber back to his place if Eddie got called while on his stand-by shift. He jumps out of the truck and wills himself to walk to the door, takes a quick look at his phone.

It’s eleven forty-five.

There are a few seconds too many after his first knock and Buck goes for another, impatient. The door swings open instantly this time. The comforting smell of the house drafts out, bringing up a wave of emotions. His eyes open and with that Buck loses the smile he had put on.

“Can I help you?” There’s a tall, broad man on the other side of the threshold, but it’s not Tommy. The features are similar though; blue eyes, dark hair, muscles all over and a nose that would crunch up on his cheek during a kiss like Tommy’s did. Buck opens his mouth to speak but;

“Who is it, Sal?” Tommy shouts from inside. Sal. What a stupid name.

Sal turns around to tell; “Some random mook”. Then his piercing gaze falls back onto Buck; “You’re bumming out our party. The fuck you want?”

“Um, well-” There are so many scenarios running through Buck’s mind that he forgets everything he needed to say. Tommy’s already got a date? Sure, it’s been over a month and he had his own opportunities, but Buck was convinced Tommy would be alone moping, or at least working an extra shift tonight (Tommy is not a big holiday guy, Buck had found out when he suggested they took the same days off to celebrate). But he’s already found another man to spend his spare time with and the man is gorgeous and not so different from his own physique that Buck can pass it off as an experiment.

He thinks maybe that Sal guy had been there all along. That Buck was in fact the experiment and he’d fallen into the trap. Let the man feed on his naiveness and use his inexperience as some weird superiority kink.

Well, fuck, he thinks. If he’s going down might as well put all the cards on the table and play the game.

“I-I need to talk to Tommy. We have a conversation to have.” Buck straightens up, using the little ounce of alcohol that didn’t coward out of his body to stand his ground. “He should be with me tonight.”

The man laughs as he realizes who he’s talking to, and it boils Buck’s blood.

“You? You’re the reason I had to pick Tommy off the ground?” Sal slaps his knee and looks over inside the house again but doesn’t speak. While he does so, Buck scans him over, looking for a weak point. He’s not above fighting this with his fists - remember the alcohol? - but the man could slam dunk him one-handed.

“Oh, that’s rich,” Sal adds with a deep hum. He looks Buck up and down. Bites his bottom lip. “I guess I can see it. Tall boy with the curls and puppy eyes. I would have been all up in there as well. Worth the heartache.”

“The fuck you mean?” Buck’s hands are forming into fists in his hoodie’s pockets and he’s turning the same colour as the hideous car parked behind him. Which he now understands is this prick’s belonging.

“Boy, listen. Tommy had a good run with you, but I’m here with him now. He doesn’t need to take your hand and walk you everywhere like a lost child anymore.” Sal walks back and starts closing the door but Buck’s hand is quick to stop it.

“I’m sure he didn’t mind that. You should have seen his face the first time I called him daddy. Fucked me for three days straight, something you probably can’t keep up with,” Buck spits, the taste of the statement burning like bile on his tongue. He can see surprise spread across Sal’s face, before he retorts.

“I’m the top, baby. Tommy lets me do what I want with him. And his whimpers are delicious.” Buck knows. Buck’s been on the giving end of those whimpers, and if Tommy was honest with him, he was the first one to bring him there, and-

“Maybe I can show you how to make him cry your name too.” Buck’s inside the house now, backing Sal into the dresser as they go about fighting this like bulls. He goes on to say more arrogant shit that he hopes will fall into the right ears and grant him points. Even if deep down he knows this is childish and stupid and wasting him some precious time.

“That didn’t make him want to move in with you, did it?” Sal sends the final straw as he rubs his chin evilly.

Buck’s eyes land on Sal’s hand and his stomach drops. He looks at the ring on his finger and his mouth falls open, speechless. There’s a stinging feeling of defeat cutting through his entire being, like he came all the way here for nothing. Like the last months were for nothing.

Before Buck can either fall to his knees in sobs or turn around without a word, a feminine frame comes into view and the woman circles an arm around Sal, a big diamond decorating the hand that’s running up his chest. She looks up at him, the stern expression across her face making him check his posture, and suddenly Buck’s even more confused than he was.

“Tommy, come talk to the poor boy,” she says and pulls Sal back to the living room by the hand.

Buck looks over to his right and he feels like passing out.

*

“He should be with me tonight.”

Tommy freezes in place, takes a step back to hide behind the dividing column between the living room and kitchen as if this wasn’t his goddamn house. He takes a deep breath, looks over at Gina on the couch and makes a face: that’s him, he mouths. She giggles at his frightened composure. He’s too drunk for this. 

Hearing Ev-, Buck’s voice triggers emotions he thought he had drowned deep enough with holiday cheer; shame. Regret. Love. And now all he wants is to run out, pull him into his arms tight enough until they fuse together and he can never lose him again. But the conversation has taken a turn and Tommy… Well, Tommy enjoys what he’s hearing. His body goes slack when he hears Buck fight for him. Everything he’s saying is true and he wants to prove it again. Fuck, he misses him.

He’d have a conversation with Sal later about the things he’s saying to rile him up. Slap the back of his head for good measure because Buck could have run off and Tommy’s not sure he’d have the courage to go after him and pick up that mess on top of the one he created, but for now, he chuckles and lets them ‘fight’ over him for the sake of the show. When Sal pulls out his last line though, Tommy’s expression drops and Gina darts past him before he can will himself to take a step. She defuses the bomb.

“Tommy, come talk to the poor boy.” He watches as they walk back into the living area and he meets Buck’s eyes.

He has very little time to make a decision and he probably looks like a deer in headlights. He wants to be cool and composed. Make Buck believe he’s got his life together and that leaving wasn’t the dumbest thing he did. But his baby is standing there in his house and he hates how uneasy he seems. Tommy closes his eyes and breathes in, looks at the stove on his left.

It’s eleven fifty-seven.

“Come in,” he says, barely loud enough to hear himself say it. He has to wave Buck in, and his heart skips a beat when he agrees and closes the door. Tommy turns to the fridge and gathers two beer bottles, even though their systems could do without. It’s a habit, getting something for Buck, because ‘love languages’ or whatever. And old habits die hard.

“Let’s talk on the patio,” Tommy adds, pointing with the neck of the bottle. Buck follows willingly, a faint smile spreading over his face. Tommy sees him look at Sal and Gina sitting hip to hip on the couch and he realizes he has some explaining to do, but as they walk behind the couch, Sal reaches back and pulls Buck by the hoodie.

“Sorry kid but you know I had to test you. You seem alright,” he says. “Don’t fuck up your chance though. I know where you live.” Buck looks at Tommy with worry and Tommy waves his head ‘no’ in reassurance. The room lights up in chuckles and Buck joins them, eyes watery nonetheless. Then Tommy’s gaze lands on the TV and he sees the countdown go by on the broadcast downtown. Seven, six, five, four-

Panic takes over him and when he turns to look at Buck, he’s met with the exact same questioning look. He should have had more time before this. At least say hi properly and get to the apologies first. But Tommy raises his brows and Buck nods with a shaky exhale. Then their lips collide in a clumsy but oh so perfect kiss.

The angle is awkward and this should be a quick peck, but they stay like this for several more seconds, both their hands just hovering around them not quite ready to cross a line.

Happy New Year! The TV chants, and they pull away. The scene mirrors that of their first kiss; Tommy pulls back with his eyes closed, scared that if he opens them then the nightmare will come back and Buck will be gone. But when he pushes himself to do so, Buck is standing there, a tear falling onto his cheek and he’s holding his breath, mouth agape and his eyes search deep into his soul.

Tommy’s ears are ringing but it’s not the fireworks outside. It’s the beating of his heart that’s threatening to fall out of his chest. And he listens to it, grabs Buck’s neck and pulls him back in. The second round is hungry, determined, and the beers have been set on the couch console in favor for their hands to roam freely across charted territory. Tommy finds his favourite dip at the base of Buck’s back, his other hand still wrapped around his Adam's apple. His body shivers when he feels two strong hands run up his front until they settle onto his chest for a light squeeze.

It’s raw and meaningful and unbothered, until someone clears their throat.

*

“I’ll set the dishes in the sink. The leftovers are stored away, but I’m leaving with this amazing fruit cake,” Gina says with Sal in tow.

“W-wait, I didn’t mean to stop you guys, I-”

“Kid, if Lucy hadn’t convinced you to come here before midnight, I would have personally driven mister lonesome here to your place.” Sal loves the moment everything clicks in Buck’s mind and he shoots a look at Tommy who’s turning red. “We were just keeping him company until then.” He winks.

Buck stands there speechless, a little dumbfounded but the smile on his face could light up the city. Tommy also had a plan. The same plan, as it turns out, mastered by the same minds. His dick twitches in the god awful tight jeans knowing Tommy wanted to fight for him. And maybe from the taste of Tommy lingering on his lips.

“Well, we’ll be on our way. Be safe!” Gina adds before gathering their stuff and heading for the door. Sal stops to give Tommy a hug and whispers something to him, to which Tommy nods in agreement.

“And you!” Buck goes cross-eyed looking at his finger. “Don’t be too comfortable being ‘whatever’. Put labels. Be happy that you can do that now. Let people know Tommy’s your boyfriend, whether you’re gay or queer or,” he stops and makes a hand gesture for Buck to finish.

“Bisexual,” he answers.

“There. It’s easy to say, huh? Let people know. Who ever gives a fuck shouldn’t be in your life anyway.” With those wise words, Sal walks past him and out the door. Buck almost starts liking the guy before the roaring of the Charger vibrates through the house and he remembers he could probably never deal with that ego. Tommy seems to notice the disgust on his face and laughs.

“Talk?” Tommy points towards the couch this time, but Buck takes a step closer and brings his hands to his hips.

“You took tomorrow off?” Tommy nods. “Then tomorrow.”

Buck pushes Tommy back against the counter and attacks his mouth again. That would satisfy him, really. Kissing the love of his life in his house. This is what Buck should have emphasized during their last conversation, he thinks. But there’s little time for thinking when Tommy starts undoing his pants and moans obscenely into his open mouth.

“I’ll spend the night on my knees if you ask me to, baby. Don’t worry,” Buck whispers, smug. God he missed this. He runs his hand down the front of Tommy’s pants and tears burn his eyes at the contact with his engorged dick.

“Evan,” Tommy begs faintly.

-

Next part (smut) | Next part (morning conversation)

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@weewookinard

[tuesday-teyz]

Butterfly Reign chapter 40 😧

Hi!

First of all, I just wanted to say how much I love Butterfly Reign—your writing is incredible, and I’ve been absolutely hooked from the start. I think I started reading when there were only about 10 chapters out, which feels like a lifetime ago!

I just finished chapter 40, and I’ve been thinking a lot about the direction the story took, particularly regarding Theseus and Wilbur. Their relationship has been such a complex and emotional journey, and I’ve really enjoyed seeing them work through their issues. Honestly, it’s crazy to think back to when I first started reading, and how I would’ve been rooting for Theseus to get his revenge, but now, with everything that’s happened, I didn’t expect the story to take such a tragic turn.

While I’m still deeply invested in the story, I’m curious about a few things—particularly the choice to have Wilbur die. I’ve been wondering, how long have you had this planned? I noticed the MCD tag from the beginning, so I’m wondering if this was always the direction you intended to take their characters or if it evolved as the story developed?

I’d also love to know your thoughts on Theseus’s actions here (without giving away any spoilers ofc). In the context of the story (obviously not condoning murder in real life 😭), do you think Theseus did what he had to do? Do you see him as someone who is still redeemable, or do you think that this was a mistake in his journey? I ask because, even though I’ve been the number one Theseus defender (his rights and wrongs) throughout the story, I found myself struggling with this moment. It’s the first time I’ve felt so conflicted about his character. I’m really curious about your perspective as the author, especially when it comes to the moral complexities in his decision.

Thank you so much for sharing this story— and I can’t wait to see what comes next! (even though i'm not yet willing to except that it shall continue BR!crimboys-less) at least give me hope for Br!discduo if nothing else

Hi, thank you for the ask, it made my morning!

To answer your questions, it's a little complex when exactly the decision came about. In my original outline back in 2022, this whole scene did not actually involve any fire. Instead, it was Theseus and Fundy stranded on the lake as ice begins to crack. Wilbur gets Fundy to safety first, and then when he comes back for Theseus, they fall through. From there on, there were two versions of this scene that I fluctuated between: one, Wilbur cuts the rope connecting them and lets himself drown, and two, the same happens but both of them get saved by a third outside force. This is followed up by Wilbur falling into a coma and being absent for the rest of the fic, sans the epilogue where we see him awake. Simply put, it was never my plan for Wilbur to be present in the final arc; he simply has no place there. His story was always meant to end in this chapter.

However, as time went on, I realized that using a coma is a very cheap (for the lack of a better word) way to write off a character, and his death by sacrifice did not feel right. As I mentioned in another post, br!Wilbur was, off and on, for nearly a decade, br!Tommy's abuser. To have someone who caused so much pain for him die saving him didn't sit right with me. Tommy was working for so long on accepting his past and unlearning the behaviors Wilbur brought up in him that it felt like an injustice and a poor message besides to basically say 'oh well he loved you at the end of the day'. And exploring his death from the point of view Tommy being relieved by it and feeling guilty at the same time is too repetetive of the story itself from when Wilbur ran away the first time. That's when the decision for Tommy to kill Wilbur was born.

So short answer: Wilbur's story was always meant to end at this moment. The idea for murder hatched during the travel arc.

I could not tell you exactly when did I realize that the plot was heading towards Tommy killing Wilbur, but I very firmly stand by the point that it's something that has been brewing up in the background unbeknownst even to me. The thing, Tommy has always been a killer. You have always known him as one (Clara was killed by him 3 years into the past), even though you didn't know his full backstory. An important part of this arc in its entirety is that it's Tommy unpacking and healing from the trauma he experienced 6 to 3 years ago. When Tommy gets sick and Wilbur takes care of him – that's 11 year old Tommy getting closure from Wilbur leaving him behind, and trading their family for the life of a commoner and a family of his own. It's not about them learning to be different in the future; it's about them mending the past. At no point at all this was meant to be about redeeming Wilbur.

Off to the next question: was this necessary? Did Tommy do what he had to?

Not at all. I address that in the chapter itself. I believe it's three different times that an image of Clara tells that Tommy must do it, meaning kill Wilbur, but the only time Tommy voices that thought himself (after the dialogue with Warden), the must changes to can. It's him taking agency over his own choices and acknowledging that he has this option and it's his decision to proceed with it. He tells Wilbur not to make excuses for him for Clara's death, knowing he's about to commit the same crime again.

As to how to feel about his actions – that's entirely up to you. You're not meant to feel a certain way about any of the characters, and especially not Tommy, but I am curious to hear your guys' thoughts and analysis. What do you think?

[the-100-days-of-junkan]

Day 97

Smile by Kayleen756894

Same as when we covered Burning Lungs, check the tags for this fic before ya jump in cause it gets pretty dark even within the first chapter. 

It’s a big day for the project people, I mentioned back on Day 60 that there were three fics that I consider directly responsible for this entire thing since they’re what set me on this path of a comically large amount of Junkan. And today we FINALLY talk about another one of them, even if I admittedly did cover a little bit of my history with this specific story during Day 60 for the sake of context. Apologies if I repeat myself a few times!

The previous few days I’ve been covering fic first, then the art. For this day however I’m going to cover the art first, along with any other bonus facts I have, and THEN i will do my best to adequately sing the praises of today’s stories.

Also let it be known that the music I put on while I read through the whole fic in preparation for today’s ramble was “LEASE” by Takeshi Abo. 10 hour loop too. Someone will find that funny probably, maybe even you!

(This is another long one, get ready)

Before I address the art I might as well have a little fun and discuss the order I decided to do these in, interesting I know.

Days 91-92 were easy, the first Soft Fic and the first fic to use the Non-Abusive Tag, they had to be the opener. Day 93 was one of the longer stories so I did that one first, since I did read each story before working on the art. From there it’s a pretty simple pattern of “Short Fic followed by a longer, more serious fic that I gotta psyche myself up for.” And it was done pretty much with todays subject in mind, but we’ll get for it. 

You’ll notice I have two different art pieces today, the reason is simple. I wasn’t very happy with the initial art, so I made a much more direct adaptation of a scene from the first chapter to go with it. And in a rare instance I can also bring you some early versions of the initial piece!

From the initial sketch you can see that this was supposed to be a proper cover for the story, as I wanted to feature scenes from each of the three chapters, that middle shot is one I’ve had in my mind since the first time I read the story. Those who have read the fic can probably recognize each one. The second image was almost the final version of this. I scrapped the lower portion of the art for a few reasons. The flames of burnout were miniscule but still present, though rest assured these would not come into play until after the point of when the fanfic art is all finished. Secondly, when I was supposed to work on this art, a power outage hit my house. This also meant that in terms of making the art I only had the first chapter read, anything else was purely memory (Like I said though, I read the full fic for todays ramble, rest assured). And thirdly, I kinda, just thought it didn’t look good? And as you can see this version had details cut despite how far into the process it was, fully removing the expressions outside of the two smiling. Cause y’know . . . “Smile.” Plus in retrospect the eyes, while striking compared to the rest of the art, look kinda fucking silly?

Why didn’t I like the end result? Honestly I think I was just in a bad headspace at the time due to the combination of the power out stressing me out, and just generally speaking my mental health has never been the most structurally sound aspect of myself. I’m good at drawing, not so much being well put together. Looking at it now, while I think the piece is a bit esoteric and might not be what I’d make today for a piece based on this fic, I like it a lot.

And at the end of the dead even if I didn’t like how the first one turned out, I’m pretty happy with it! Even with perfectionist brain bitching at me that I could have done Junko’s hair a bit better at the given angle. Just a straight adaptation of Junko and Mikan’s first kiss from Chapter 1. The most interesting note on it’s creation is that I had to make last minute changes to Mikan because I realized her hair needed to be a lot shorter and more well put together, as earlier in the fic Junko does fix it up a bit. 

Oh! I did also send the second pic to the author herself as a way of introducing myself and showing appreciation, so that’s a bit of added sentimental value! Kayleen’s an absolute treat by the way, super fun to talk too, great insight on writing, you should absolutely check out the rest of her writing! I’m not in most of the fandoms featured say for RWBY, but based on the quality of her writing on the Danganronpa side of things, I feel confident recommending anything she’s published in the past, present, and future!~ 

Speaking of writing, I should probably like. Talk about the god damn fic, huh? Well. Nope! I still have more fun facts!

I almost didn’t adapt Smile! I knew for certain that Kayleen needed a spot on this list, it would have felt wrong otherwise. And there were two fics in mind for adaptation.

“Smile”, obviously, and “Soft (But only for Her).” My earliest plan was going to be to just do both. However I only had 8 days to work with, and spoilers, Day 98 is in fact a returning author, so I didn’t want to take up half of my slots on two authors, I wanted to show my appreciation to as many as I could during this string of the event before going back to my own stuff for the last two days. So I thought it over, and decided that Smile was too important to pass up on this project, leaving Soft (But only for Her) for later.

I did have a full plan for it though, unlike Smile where I didn’t really have an idea going into it. I’ll tell you what the plan was gonna be.

Most people would be curious which of the around 30 wonderful one shots I could have chosen to adapt, I’ve already done one of them with the very first chapter in that collection! However you my audience, are not most people. There’s a good chance you’re reading this paragraph, rubbing your temples and resigning yourself to the fact that I was very much going to draw art based on every single piece of that collection. Because yes I was just gonna adapt all of it. Was gonna make a big collage out of all of em, even the chapters that have so much angst I struggle to even read them cause they make me too sad! I’d still do it too. I probably will. When you least expect it. 

For now though I really wanna draw something based on Chapter 25 when I have the time. I wanna draw art based on a lot of other fanfics actually, I’ve just been pretty swamped. But rest assured, to those of you who’ve written a Junkan fic and weren’t featured. Rest assured, I have my eyes open, I’m always looking that tag over, and there were definitely some stories omitted that I really wish I could have included IN the project. Give it time. My self control grows weaker by the day!~

Okay, okay. NOW, I should be able to talk about the fic. Probably.

So I’ve told this story before, but now you’ll get to hear it in a bit more detail compared to before. Will hopefully not be too repetitive for ya’ll!

So once again we jump back a few years during say, 2020, MAYBE early 2021. I find a fic that includes Junkan when I was simply trying to find Ikuzono. It ends up being pretty cute and makes me curious, “I thought this ship was super toxic? How is this one so cute?”

So, I look around the tag, still not sure how to Navigate AO3 even after gaining a lot of experience through the power of many late night tokomaru binges. And as you already knew or could guess, I came across Smile.

At the time it only had 2 chapters, which normally might have turned me away at the time, I wasn’t a desperate animal like I am today. However I guess I either ignored that, or just didn’t care, too curious to see what else this ship could entail.

So here I am, sitting in my bed, writing this ramble, trying to figure out once again how to talk about one of the fics that set me off on this obsession with Junko and Mikan as a softer, loving couple. That and also a fic that is much more serious in terms of its tone and content, as this fic, like Drowning, is one of the only fics in this stretch of the project that is definitely set in the main canon of DR. Serving as essentially a new origin for Junkan as a couple prior to the tragedy. 

I’m sure I’ve said before that when it comes to how I view Junko and Mikan’s relationship, that Val’s work is basically the primary blueprint for how I interpret and portray them. However that’s for the Non-Despair AUs, while there is some bleed over in how I handle Canon portrayals (And I admittedly haven’t done a lot with a serious interpretation of that), in my brain this story, Smile, is the blueprint of how I view a canon timeline version of Junkan. That might just be bias from it being the first fic I read that like, but it does kind of help that this is just one of the most excellently written interpretation of these characters I’ve ever bared witness to.

The first chapter was originally supposed to be a Standalone according to the Author’s Notes, and it really works as one! It’s a very complete story that’s super well put together, and ends very satisfyingly if you just stop after finishing it. I’m extremely glad it continued, as I don’t think my obsession would have come to fruition when it did if not for those following two chapters. But maybe I’m wrong cause this fic certainly knows how to hook you on a ship!

I was god damn mesmerized reading the first chapter. This has to be one of the saddest takes on Mikan’s character that I’ve ever read. Burning Lungs comes close however we never get to actually see things from her perspective, that’s all from Junko’s outsider point of view. Here we get to see it all from Mikan’s perspective, all of it, the sad stuff, the extra sad stuff, the stuff I don’t really know how to talk about because I’m inadequate with this kind of subject matter. And some gay panic, because it’s not Junkan without at least a little gay panic somewhere in the mix.

Junko is really god damn good in this first chapter, she’s god damn good in the whole fic but we’re talking about chapter one right now so i’m specifying. She has such a mysterious aura around her the entire time, and not just the obvious “Oh she’s planning the tragedy behind the scenes,” but also the mystery of how she feels about Mikan! It’s something left up to viewer interpretation in the first chapter, and to a much lesser extent the following chapters (I say lesser extent cause it does eventually lean into her having real feelings for Mikan, just being super confused by them. At least that’s how I look at it). Everytime I read one of these stories that serve as an origin point for these two’s relationship, it’s always really interesting to see how things initiate. It’s pretty much always Junko initiating of course, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a fic where it was Mikan who made the first move? If there is I’m having a severe lapse in memory it seems, or I’ve misinterpreted! The point of course being I really like the way Junko handles things here, saving Mikan from her darkest point, all that good shit! 

And the kiss? I drew it for a reason, it’s amazing. From the buildup to the way Mikan has a rare instance of boldness and grabs Junko’s tie? The grabbing the tie part makes my brain explode, the fact that Junko herself was surprised by it is even better. I love it whenever Mikan can actually get Junko surprised or flustered. It’s great!

I feel like I should be more detailed, more meticulous, but it really is a struggle trying to be in depth when discussing something this good, I wouldn’t consider it my strong suit? 

So let’s try moving onto chapter 2! I do at least have a story with this one but that can be for when I finish desperately trying to talk about the chapter itself. 

It’s lovely! Big shock! We get to see the two of them just acting like a normal couple for a bit, and even better we get to see the two partaking in some sleepy cuddles. That scene also does one of those Junkan things I fuckin love where Junko just, fucking reads Mikan’s mind. I know that’s not what she’s doing but also it’s funnier to put it that way. I just like Junko putting her analytical ability to use by reading Mikan and understanding her finer details. It can be used in all kinds of ways, cute ways, funny ways, saucy ways, but this might just be my favorite way? Her being able to tell when Mikan’s about to spiral and snapping her out of it quick. 

Their date is lovely by the way, love the drive there, the conversation is just a treat. And I really like the reference to the grenade scene from the DR3 anime, I might not have fond memories with that series like, at all, but that one clip of Junko tossing the grenade and Mukuro (We’ll get to her) catching it is just a really fun bit of energy. It’s also just fucking funny because it reads like they practiced that shit for like 2 fuckin weeks- Sorry, distracted. Anyway I think the scene is both a fun reference, and another good way to kinda remind of us the darker parts of this storyline underlying the softer surface. Junko is in fact trying to burn the world down, she just also happens to have a tooth rotting-ly sweet relationship with a very sad nurse. The moments where Mikan unintentionally peers into that world, whether hearing an explosion or seeing the red roots of Junko’s true haircolor, I love it all!

Great moment with Mikan helping that kid from bullies, always love to see Mikan flourishing in these stories (foreshadowing)! I think it is very funny that the small child just immediately clocked that Mikan and Junko were dating, the kid either has a crazy gaydar or Mikan and Junko are the least subtle people alive . . . okay yeah it’s that second one.

The following scene is great too, fuck those parents, and fuck yeah to Junko coming in for the clutch as she is one to do in this fic. The kiss to follow? Fantastic. Junko’s joke about exhibitionism? Also fantastic. The part where Mikan says she’s gonna go see her parents- Fuck.

Okay so, I’mma make the assumption that if you’re this deep into my ramble you’ve probably read the fic already. And if you skipped out on the fic due to the subject matter noted in the tags, you can probably already tell by my apprehension that everything in this fic from here on out is like, the opposite end of the spectrum from all the sweet (albeit ominous) stuff we’ve had up till now. And you’d be correct, and I quite frankly don’t know how to talk about it, like, at all. There are parts of this that I do wanna talk about from this and the following chapter, but also I feel neither confident nor comfortable explicitly discussing what happens to Mikan here. Even if you can probably already tell.

Still, I must show my respects to the literature and it’s author, so I will do my best. Apologies if I fumble here.

I’m still not gonna talk in depth about Mukuro here, but I do like the conversation leading up to this scene, before Mikan shows up. It’s something that was going to inevitably come up, because yeah, Junko can make Mikan fall deeply in love with her, but that won’t exactly prepare her for being complicit in the apocalypse. There’s a part of me that’s curious what her gameplan was before the end of this chapter happens, how was she going to try and turn Mikan over to her side 100% and make sure she’s ready. The world will never know.

Junko’s great at the end of this chapter, not just the comfort she provides. But the way she, in the words of the story, Snaps. That line? That stuck with me when I first read this. I think it’s the moment that confirmed for me personally, that yeah, Junko does love Mikan even if she doesn’t understand it. And it wasn’t just that moment that stuck with me, it was the whole fic by this point.

That’s right, it's story time. So when I found this fic, there were only two chapters. And I wanna remind ya’ll that before this fic I read a fic so silly, soft, and fluffy that it made me question what this ship could be. Jumping from that, to this was definitely . . . Whiplash?

What happened after that is fun, because I don’t fucking remember. I think unironically the amount of stress that ending put me under just from the shock of it, made me fuckin black out?? Which by the way, huge kudos, it takes some really fucking good writing to get me so invested that I get real life stressed as shit because of bad things happening to the characters. But anyway, I didn’t actually just, black out from stress. But everything after that is so blurred that it’s borderline incomprehensible, I try to remember past that point, and it’s like looking at memories put through a paper shredder before being put back together by a toddler doing a handstand. 

All I can say for sure is that starting from the morning after, I was obsessed. I woke up, and kept fucking checking to see if Chapter 3 was out yet. I hadn’t checked the time of the latest update, I still barely fucking understood how AO3 actually worked. I’m pretty sure it was through this fic that I learned that when a fic updates it moves to the top of the page for a given tag. This was also way before I had an AO3 account, so I couldn’t just subscribe or bookmark it. I’m sure I read other fics at this point, probably including Kayleen’s other works? But the timespan between Chapter 2 and 3 feel like white noise, whatever I read didn’t exist in my memories by the time that story ended. And god damn did it end.

When Chapter 3 popped up, it was late I’m pretty sure. I don’t know what I was doing at the time, maybe looking at manga online, talking with friends over discord dms, failing homework over online school, maybe even doing some of my own writing since i’m pretty sure this was back before my passion for it died out. Whatever it was, I dropped it fucking IMMEDIATELY. I needed to see this ending, I needed that catharsis.

So I layed in my bed, in a house I was still new to, and read the god damn chapter.

It was perfect. One of the first times to my knowledge where I’ve had the satisfaction of reading an unfinished fic and getting to actually see it end.

Where do I start, what do I even say? Anything I say just kind of boils down to “Junko and Mikan are perfectly written and I love their interactions and also god dammit I feel so bad for Mikan.”

The scene on the rooftop is great, I remember in one of Kayleen’s other fics Mikan shows concern for Junko’s eating habits, so getting to this scene and seeing the reverse was nice. And like, god, Junko’s so good in this. I get she’s trying to start the end of the world but she’s doing such a fucking good job here. Sure, she asks Mikan to kill her parents right after this, which might not be the most normal way of helping your girlfriend through a severely traumatic experience, but that’s just Junko y’know? 

Should I talk about Mukuro now? I should probably talk about Mukuro now, I really wanted to wait like one more scene but fuck it we’re talking about Mukuro now. 

Have I ever really talked about Mukuro in the context of Junkan? I know I’ve definitely made note of her, and I’ve obviously included her in these pieces with varying degrees of prominence. But I don’t think I’ve ever noted how I think she’s is one of the most interesting and amazing assets of Junkan as a ship. Calling Mukuro an asset feels like a disservice, but I lack the words to adequately describe what I mean here. 

The Despair Sisters are already one of the most interesting dynamics in Danganronpa, and a pretty versatile one at that based on the various interpretations I’ve seen of these two. And I think adding Junkan into the mix is just lovely, because it adds an outsider perspective, but not just that, it’s the outsider perspective of someone who’s closer than anyone else due to Mikan dating Junko. Bonus for the contrast of Junko pampering Mikan and shit talking Mukuro, even if I believe that shit talking is just a very layered way for Junko to express that she does care about Mukuro as a sister. 

And I think Mukuro and Mikan is a really fun dynamic too! I love the idea of Mikan finding love through Junko, and then in turn getting a second person in her life that cares about her. Mukuro being Mikan’s bodyguard bare minimum is great, protect that sweet little nurse you desaturated girliepop you. But I think the way their dynamic can evolve overtime as Mikan continues to date Junko is great. 

Mukuro getting to see firsthand how Mikan is changing Junko for the better, even if it’s in a canon timeline where Junko’s still like, very locked in on the apocalypse. She’s getting to be happier in a more genuine way, which I’m sure Mukuro would be grateful for, and that just makes her caring about Mikan’s wellbeing all the better.

Plus like, something I don’t think about often, at least not until very recently, but if Junko and Mikan are dating, and inevitably get married. That does just kinda mean Mikan and Mukuro are sisters in law. And, I fuckin love that? Mikan not only gets an amazing relationship with Junko, but she also just gets to have a sibling, something that to my knowledge she doesn’t have in canon. It’s that found family stuff that I love, even if the found family in this case is a bit more literal rather than just being a metaphor. And Mukuro gets a new sister, one who cares about her just as much as Junko, but is just significantly better at expressing that by comparison. I think Mukuro would really appreciate having a sister who like, hugs her without slinging an insult, or just getting any kind of open, visceral appreciation without having to read between the lines. 

I love to see Mikan with plenty of friends, she has a bunch of dynamics that I appreciate. But I also have a lot of appreciation for the idea of Junko and Mukuro being the only people she cares about, the only people she needs to survive. 

Where was I- Oh right.

Kayleen’s depiction of Mukuro and her dynamic with our other two primary characters is amazing. Spectacular even. Fucking perfect perhaps. It does everything I love about the Despair Sister’s dynamic without bordering into uncomfortable territory like some facets of the main canon does. But what I especially love is her dynamic with Mikan in the few moments we get to see them interact. A protector, a friend, and eventually a sister to her, it’s amazing. The scene when Mikan wakes up to Mukuro watching over her while Junko is away is phenomenal, and I love Mikan’s concern for her given the way Junko treats her, which does look pretty bad without the deeper context. The moment at the very end of Chapter 2 where Mukuro just heads off to (I assume) kidnap Mikan’s parents after just sharing a look with Junko, it’s another one of my favorite bits in that scene.

And of course, the scene that lead me to start yapping about Mukuro like that out of fucking nowhere, her talking to Mikan about Junko’s test. It’s great how she tries to help Mikan come to a decision without forcing anything. But also finally giving some more confirmation that Junko definitely feels something for Mikan, expressing how many changes in her demeanor she’s noted. And the reveal that Junko routinely struggles with Nightmares whenever Mikan isn’t around?? Fuck I love that. God dammit. 

I feel like I should talk more about this scene, but I feel like I kinda did? To an extent? A lot of what I just said about Mukuro’s place in this dynamic kinda sums up a lot of the great things about this scene. So I suppose we move on.

The buildup to the big scene of this chapter is wonderful of course, not much to say there. And I admittedly just really want to talk about the scene that follows.

Because god it’s everything I was hoping for when I finished that second chapter and had no idea whether I’d see this scene or not. 

The reveal is great, and as grotesque as I anticipated. I do cringe a little reading some of the details, not the modern dickhead definition of cringe either I mean the “Oh god fuck that’s brutal” kind of cringe. And it is so perfectly contrasted by Junko being Junko, love the idea that Junko and Mukuro just nabbed up these people and didn’t explain a goddamn thing until this very moment where they finally figure out that this crazy bitch is dating their daughter. Mukuro punching Mikan’s dad in the face was fucking great too. 

And the buildup to what comes next, is so god damn good. It feels weird out of context celebrating it, but the scene where Mikan breaks? Fucking spectacular. The distortion on the word Red hits like a fucking truck, and also speaks to my childhood of being a creepypasta kid because i’m like, half sure that’s the zalgo text filter, correct me if I’m wrong of course. Point is it was an out of nowhere detail that perfectly emphasized the tensity of what’s about to happen.

And I can go on another tangent now, because this is something I have had no opportunity to talk about during the entire duration of this project. At least not to my memory or knowledge.

I love Angry Mikan. I love the Mikan that snaps and is fully over the edge, not willing to deal with anyones bullshit. I of course have criticisms of Chapter 3 in DR2, but Mikan’s reveal of her true self, or I suppose the herself prior to the NWP, I love that moment. 

I’ve never depicted Angry Mikan before, but someday I really want to. So until then I take great enjoyment in seeing such a rare side of Mikan, which itself is even rarer in these fics. I think counting this one there are only 3, maybe 4 other fics off the top of my head where we get to see Mikan fully lose her temper. Now of course, I could be suffering another lapse in memory, or I just haven’t read the other stories that feature it. I only think I’ve read like, 90% of the Soft Junkan out there, I can’t confidently claim I actually have for certain, so maybe I missed it! 

Point is, seeing Angry Mikan is a treat. And here especially is fucking amazing, the verbal teardown, the havoc of it all. It’s great. And Junko just adds to it with her sheer excitement (which is putting it lightly given some of the dialogue), getting to see Mikan finally become, from her perspective, the best version of herself. Someone who can survive alongside her. 

When things start moving, it’s amazing. A small moment I really love, and the moment I was originally gonna wait for to talk about Mukuro with. Her offering up an assortment of firearms from “Her personal collection.” is just, weirdly wholesome? The things I get to say talking about this ship I swear. I dunno, it feels like such a small, personal moment and offer that only Mukuro could provide, and feels like the perfect cap to Mikan and Mukuro’s dynamic throughout this fic.

Also, fucking enamored with the the presence of a Rocket Launcher. Funniest alternate timeline sitting right there, imagining Mikan with a fucking rpg over her shoulder is hilarious.

Junko offering the reverse side of the weaponry coin is lovely too of course, but it’s the wonderful stuff I’d already expect with Junko, so much less of a pleasant surprise like Mukuro. I do appreciate her keeping a knife used on Mikan’s father as a trophy though, imagine that over the fireplace.

Anyway I don’t know how I could really explain to you why the torture scene is nice. It’s catharsis, it’s just catharsis. I don’t even remember how fucking long I waited to read this moment but it was so worth it, Junko and Mukuro joining in to help setup equipment was also really cute . . . i feel like i shouldn’t be calling segments from a torture scene cute. Hm. Well anyway, I can say that while I appreciate its existence, I’m also glad Kayleen chose not to drag it out for too long. Ironic coming from the most excessive bitch around here, but it probably would have been a bit much if it took up the grander majority of this chapter.

Which means we say goodbye to Mukuro and return to our regularly scheduled Junko and Mikan moments. 

And yeah what do you want me to fucking say, it’s amazing? Because it’s amazing as fuck, yeah. I’m running out of ways to just say how fuckin much i love this, but i’ll persevere best I can. 

I mentioned way earlier that I love it when Mikan catches Junko by surprise, and we get more of that here. Though in this instance I think it’s better to describe that this is the first time Mikan just gets the upper hand on Junko, who’s struggling to fight back in the conversation because she’s already struggling to figure out her feelings. And it’s really lovely to see Mikan fighting past Junko’s own insecurities, especially when she regards herself as a bad girlfriend. It’s great, and it’s more of that role reversal I love. 

The book analogy near the end of this conversation is so good, it’s sappy as fuck but that’s why it’s good. And Junko leaning into it despite how lame it is makes it all the better, and I only noticed on this recent reread that there’s even a cheeky V3 reference as well, clever!~ 

The kiss is of course great, and I think i’ve just fully fucking run out of ways to talk about how much I love Junko and Mikan kisses in these stories. Thank god there isn’t one in tomorrows fic- getting ahead of myself. 

Rip to Scissorhands, thanks for the gay but you will not be missed.

God damn amazing fic, so well written. It’s one where I have to be in a very specific mindset in order to read it, as that middle chapter really does stress me out enough to be a bit of a roadblock. But admittedly this most recent reread wasn’t the worst compared to the previous few times. That said the fic definitely had it’s effect on me like usual, my body felt all kinds of wild ways, my heartbeat was a lot more intense, breathing a bit wacked out, my nerves up. The whole shebang, so good fucking writing. Equally bittersweet considering that, at least I assume, the normal events of DR are going to follow this story, even if not immediately. So Mukuro’s gonna die, Junko’s gonna die, and then Mikan’s going to have her brain undespaired and probably lose all her feelings towards Junko (Though I will admit, the idea of Mikan after the actual events of canon still having feelings for Junko while not being a remnant is pretty interesting). 

However, I can live with that. It’s still an amazing story even with main canon in consideration, and I think I’ve run out of things to say here. 

Tomorrow is the last fic based art in the event, Days 99 and 100 are all on me. And by process of elimination you probably have an idea of what Day 98 is, you may even know the exact fic. 

I said there were three fics that were vital to me reaching this point in my life, being this obsessed with Junkan as a ship.

The Third Fic, Everything You’ve Ever Dreamed, is the fic that sent me spiraling into brainrot to the point of snapping and drawing art of it behind closed doors, eventually snapping me into drawing more Junkan than I imagine most if not anybody ever has.

The Second Fic, Smile, is what got me obsessed with the ship in the first place, of course only enough to enjoy reading it in secret, which would lead me to EYED.

All that’s left is The First Fic, which you’ll see tomorrow. The fic that made me bother to even give this ship a chance in the first place. Hilariously, I will probably not yap about it nearly as much as the previous two, even if I love it. 

As always, Reblogs, Comments, and Little Notes in the Tags are appreciated!~ They always make my day!~

[malinowaj]

2024 fandom review

thank you for the tag @nerdyfangirl76 and @almostlake 💜

warning: this got really long

fics written

in 2024, i posted 3 finished fics and one currently on-going WIP. in total that was 122,542 words and i keep looking at that number in complete disbelief.

i started the year by saying, multiple times, i'm not going to write anything because it's been nearly a decade since i wrote for fun. then i had an idea and was all "well, maybe if i wrote this one short thing, posted it and then dipped never to be seen again". insert my friend laughing at me at regular intervals because we all know that's not what happened.

always losing to win is very dear to me, for several reasons, and it'll never stop blowing my mind how many people have read it and been on that journey with me.

fics read

my AO3 history is about 300 fics, but i did not sort out my logins until months into the year, so the actual number is probably somewhere closer to 350.

i tried to pick a few favourite fics i read and limiting myself to just these is hard. i regret to say none of these have received the praise, comments and love from me that they deserve, because it took me months to get over my comment shyness. but i hope this makes up for it a bit. (new year's resolution: more comments for everyone.) in alphabetical order by title:

almost is never enough by @in-amor-veritas

there's a scene in this with kent's 747 that i have the strongest, plot-wise most insignificant headcanon about and i think about it every time i hear the song. which is often. and then i end up thinking about the whole story.

another dose by stargazers

it's such a beautiful version of wilmon, because it's so them. and it's hot.

chasing our sunlight by fitz_y

if there ever was a fic that lives rent free in my head, it's this. the way it deals with so many heavy topics has made me cry, but it's such an incredibly crafted story i come back to it often.

forever i'm yours by @goldenwilmon

the way the fall in love in this one? hands down one of my favourites ever. whenever i need some fluff and happiness in my life, this is the one i go for.

little light by @unfortunate17

possibly one of the first, if not the first, wilmon fic i read in 2024. it broke something in me, but also healed something in me.

reckless abandon by @zee-has-commitment-issues

i absolutely love the concept and the way all the characters are so well-rounded. one of the fics i could not stop reading and can't wait to read again.

so loaded, eye low by @enjoythesilentworld

the chemistry, the angst. the sweet, delicious angst. and hot as hell.

where be left off by @gulliblelemon

the best way for me to fight some physical pain? some emotional pain. and this one has it, in the best, most beautiful way. very few fics have i devoured like i did this one.

the wolf comes home by @phneltwrites

after months, i still keep thinking about a particular line in this one. the trauma aftermath, the way they deal with it. also my favourite established relationship wilmon.

looking forward to in 2025

i can't wait to read and see all the amazing fics and gifs and edits and everything this fandom comes up with. i already know there'll be so many wonderful things i'll enjoy.

as for my own writing, i'm trying to get a good chunk of hope and legacy written before the insanity that'll be my life from late january to the end of february. (no context chapter 4 spoiler: simon steals a flag.)

there is also in from the cold, the espionage AU i have about 10K written for - and that's barely the beginning. i don't know if it'll ever see the light of day, but i do love the concept and all the research i've done for it.

i have been thinking about space wilmon lately, and while i said i'm not going to go down that road myself, i did remember a few lines from record of a spaceborn few that may have sparked an idea. it might become something one day, or it might never be more than the few disjointed lines and ideas i have typed in my notes.

there's also a file with a list of songs that i might want to build stories around. in general i have a lot of ideas, but very few of them might become anything. i'd like to put it down as "english is not my first language so writing is slow" thing, and while it is that too, it's mostly me being a perfectionist and not able to let go. (which is why i should probably have a beta telling me 'this is fine, go post it'. if anyone feels up for doing that...)

the biggest, warmest thank you to everyone who's read anything i've written, left kudos or comments, sent messages, in any way engaged. it has made my year, and this fandom experience so special 💜

not tagging anyone, but if any of the authors i mentioned haven't done this yet and would like to, i'd love to read your reviews.

[stars4noah]

HALLEY'S COMET- two.

{WARNINGS}: swearing, arguments, drinking, smoking weed, a soft noah moment, self-depreciating thoughts, cheating, abuse

w.c- 3,536

a.n- chapter 2 is out!! i'm slowly getting more ideas for this story and learning how to make it last longer and stuff like that. feedback is welcome of course! enjoy :)

if you would like to be added to the taglist, please comment.

{TAGLIST}: @lacy1986 @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard

"what the hell happened?" a voice spoke, snatching away my attention. i looked up from my spot on the ground, being met with a worried and confused noah.

"this idiot-" the stage tech began, but noah cut him off. "first of all, lower your volume. and don't call her an idiot. [y/n], what happened?"

i bit my lip, nervous for his reaction. "i was walking to my place at the stage in ran into them. he spilled his coffee all over me, now my camera is fried and the lens is broken. which means no pictures tonight."

noah seemed to tense at my words. no pictures? he never just had no pictures. he sighed, running a hand over his face.

"you don't have a spare?"

i rolled my eyes. "not everyone is a millionaire like you, noah."

"drop the attitude." he said, and i tried to ignore the way arousal shot through my body with his stern tone.

"right, well, no pictures for you tonight."

"what, you can't take them on your phone or something?"

i looked at him like he was insane. "you can't be serious. the camera quality of a phone does not even begin to compare to that of an actual camera. i can't just waltz out there with my phone in my hand-"

"yeah, yeah, i get it. stop your rambling." he interrupted. "i guess we just won't have pictures tonight. you can sit in the green room until the show starts, just don't get in the way."

i furrowed my brows. "you're not upset?"

"of course i'm upset, but i've got other shit to worry about right now. you're not at the top of my priority list. we'll talk about it later."

i nodded, and without another word i walked out to the green room with some ruined clothes and a broken camera.

"woah, what happened to you?" nicholas asked as i walked in. "don't wanna talk about it." i said, throwing the camera on the couch and grabbing a drink from the fridge. white claw, of course. it seemed that's all noah ever drank.

"dude, you need some new clothes." he said.

"they're all back at the hotel." i countered.

"i'll get you some from the merch stand."

i turned around to look at him. "nick, it's really not that big of a deal."

he raised an eyebrow. "it's the middle of december, [y/n]. i'm not gonna let you freeze to death with coffee all over your clothes. stay here, i'll be right back."

i sighed, sitting down and placing my head in my hands. how could so much go so wrong in such a short span of time? it seemed impossible. and so incredibly frustrating.

nick came back with a change of clothes for me. a hoodie and some sweatpants. the rest of the show went by well. a lot better than usual, for some reason. but who was i to ask? just the photographer. just the photographer who fucked up the one thing-

"earth to [y/n]." folio said, waving his hand in front of my face.

"hmm?" i looked at him.

"i said we're heading to a bar soon. you gonna join us?" he asked. "oh, i dunno. i'm pretty tired, i might just head back to the tour bus."

"come onnnn! it'll be fun!" he said, throwing an arm over my shoulder. "please?"

i sighed, running a hand over my face. "fine, whatever. but you're buying my drinks. i think i lost my wallet."

we soon arrived at the bar, heading straight for the vip section. i sat down in a booth far away from the others, staring at the wall and sipping on my drink until someone sat down in front of me.

"what's on your mind?" noah asked, crossing his arms over his chest, and i tried my best not to stare at them for too long before looking back up at his face. "nothing." i lied.

"you suck at lying. talk to me." he said.

"why would i talk to you about my problems?" i asked, a little more attitude in my voice than what i meant to let out.

noah furrowed his brows. "i'm just trying to help you. put some effort in. come see me when you got your head out of your ass." he said, and then walked off.

i groaned, laying my head on the table. today has got to be the worst day ever.

i drank a little more than what i meant to, stumbling and laughing as we walked back to the tour bus, nicholas having to hold my arms so i didn't fall flat on my face.

"damn, princess. you're shit faced." noah laughed.

"fuck you." i spat.

"still being a brat, i see." he said, and i rolled my eyes. "don't have to point out the obvious."

"c'mon, lets sit down before you fall." nicholas said, and i reluctantly sat down with a huff.

"so, what were you thinking about earlier?" noah asked. "you first." i replied, he furrowed his brows.

"earlier today. you declined a smoke. you never do that."

he made an 'o' shape with his mouth, trying to decide if he wanted to tell the truth or not.

"don't lie to me." i said, noticing his hesitance.

"i've just got some personal problems going on. nothing big."

i snorted. "what, your girlfriend break up with you or something? wouldn't be surprised." noah clenched his jaw. "i said it's nothing."

"oh, shit. she did!" i laughed. "damn, how's it feel to be humbled?"

noah groaned, throwing his head back. "can you drop it? i don't want to talk about it."

"nah, i'd rather make fun of you instead. give you a taste of your own medicine."

noah was starting to become increasingly frustrated, his fists clenching at his sides. that should've been my first sign to stop, but i was relentless.

"[y/n], give the guy a break." nicholas said.

"no, he needs to know how it feels to be nitpicked at and made fun of over every small thing." i said.

"can you not be a bitch for five minutes? i dunno, show some empathy and compassion for others for once?" noah snapped.

"i dunno how you expect me to be nice to you when all you've ever shown me from day one is disrespect and anger!" i said.

noah laughed bitterly. "are you fucking blind? i try to be nice to you all the time. i try to show you that i'm trying to change and all you do is push me away!"

"and you expect me to believe that you're 'trying to change'? really? i'm not stupid, noah." i slurred.

"obviously you are. drinking that much. you ruined the fucking show tonight, you know that? you screw up everything all the time. no pictures, no media announcements, nothing. it's a wonder i haven't fired you." he spat.

he was a little drunk too, not completely understanding of the words that he just spoke to me. the words that nearly brought me to tears. but i wouldn't allow him to see them.

"good thing you don't have to. i quit." i said, storming out of the bus.

"[y/n], wait-" nick began.

"save it." i spat, drunkenly walking off down the sidewalk to only god knows where.

i ended up taking an uber back to the hotel, hastily packing my things while the others tried to talk me out of it. all of them except for noah. he was probably in his room or something, hooking up with some girl from the bar. why did i care?

"come on, just think about it. you're both drunk. it'll blow over by morning. please don't leave, [y/n], bad omens isn't bad omens without their photographer." jolly said.

i rolled my eyes, zipping up my suitcase. "i've dealt with this shit for ten years, jolly. tonight was the final straw. i'm fucking done. i quit. find a new damn photographer."

and with that, i stormed out.

weeks after the incident, my phone was blowing up non stop with messages from all four members. i was back home in LA, searching for other jobs.

i saw on instagram that they had replaced me with some 'temporary' guy named bryan, which i'm sure he would end up taking my place entirely. he did his job, and better than i did. his editing skills were immaculate, and the angles he could get were insane.

i would never be like him.

photography never was for me, anyways. i wasn't creative enough. every time i couldn't get a shot or edit a photo correctly, i would break down. i needed to perfect, and i was never even close to achieving that goal. nicholas always assured me that practice made perfect, but couldn't nearly 10 years of practicing be enough?

i shut off my laptop, giving up on my job search for the day, and checked my phone. more messages from the group. great. one message had caught my eye, though. from noah.

'[y/n], please come back. i didn't mean any of the shit i said, i was shit faced and talking out of my ass. you're incredibly talented, you shouldn't need someone to tell you that. you should be able to see it for yourself. i know you've seen that we got a new photographer, but he doesn't even compare to you and your skills. we need you, princess.'

i rolled my eyes, shutting off my phone and ignoring the message, just like i had with all the others. with a bottle of hennessy next to me, i lit up a joint, taking a few hits as i turned on the tv.

since i left, i'd been drowning myself in weed and alcohol. not really a good mix, but i wasn't in the right mindset to even care at this point. the only thoughts in my mind were self-depreciating ones. the ones telling me that i would never be good enough. that he was right to say all those things to me. i felt tears well up in my eyes again, and then there was a knock at my door.

figuring it was just a package or something, i ignored it. until it came again.

i groaned, putting out the joint and shuffling over to the front door before pulling it open.

"christ, [y/n], you look like shit." noah said, looking at me and grimacing at the faint scent of alcohol and weed.

"oh, gee, thanks." i said, moving to shut the door again, but he blocked it with his foot.

"wait." he said. "i want to talk to you."

for a brief moment, i considered letting him in. i wondered if the others had knocked some sense into him over the past two weeks. yeah, he was going through a lot himself, but that didn't give him any right to treat me like that. i huffed, remaining stubborn on keeping him out.

"i don't want to talk to you. go away." i said. "give me five minutes. if i can't change your mind, i'll leave. forever."

the thought of him leaving made my heart clench. i didn't want him to leave. i needed him to stay. for some reason, my life felt emptier without him. so i sighed, opening the door again and moving to let him in.

why was i feeling this way?

we sat on the couch, and i prayed he didn't say anything about the countless empty alcohol bottles and joint butts.

"first, i want to apologize. i know me being drunk isn't a proper excuse. hell, there's no excuse for the way i treated you, that night and over the years in general. you don't deserve that, [y/n]. and you were right to want to quit. but that doesn't mean you should. you are the most talented photographer i have ever met in my life. you're- you're beautiful, and funny, and its like you can make photos come to life. i know i said a lot of shit, but you have to believe me. i didn't mean it. any of it."

i finally looked at him. "you're such a liar."

he shook his head. "i'm not lying. you don't have to trust me. you can hate me all you want. yell, scream, cry and hit me. whatever makes you feel better."

i really was gonna take him up on that offer, but decided against it. "what do you want?"

"i want you to come back. you're like family, [y/n]. tour isn't the same without you."

i clenched my jaw. "and what, you think a half assed apology is gonna fix it? everything you said, everything you did? you broke me down all these years, noah, and now i have to pick up the pieces myself. fuck you."

"[y/n]-" "get out."

"what?"

i looked at him. "get. out. i don't want you here."

he sat stubbornly. "i'm not leaving. you're not in the right mindset, i know, but you can't just quit. we need you. we miss you."

i crossed my arms. "prove it."

he furrowed his brows. "what? how am i supposed to prove it?"

"prove that you're sorry. that you're willing to change for me to come back. because i won't be coming back to deal with your sour attitude for longer than i have to. i'm tired of it." i said, and he nodded.

"okay. i'll prove it."

noah canceled the next few shows, which i repeatedly told him was not necessary, but he refused. he was going to show me he cared.

he started off by helping me clean my house. at first, he started by himself, but i refused to let him do it himself. plus, there were some things that needed to be done a certain way or else it wasn't right and i'd have to do it all over again.

"jesus christ, how much did you drink? it's been like, two weeks." noah said.

"too much. i've had the world's worst hangover for the past three days." i said, and noah threw me a water bottle and a bottle of painkillers. "take those and sit down. you'll feel better soon."

"but-" "don't argue."

i sighed, taking the painkillers and washing it down with water before going to the couch and sitting down.

noah continued to clean, throwing away the takeout boxes and empty bottles and even going as far as to mop the floors for me.

maybe he really is trying to change.

i shook away the thought. he could be trying to manipulate me or something. make me think he's nicer and then immediately go back to being mean.

even though there was that nagging worry in the back of my mind, i fell asleep in the couch with the thought of maybe he really had changed. maybe there was a chance at actually being happy.

maybe i had a chance with him after all.

i woke up what i can only assume was hours later, only to find noah no longer in my home. no note, not text, nothing. i should've known better.

a thought crossed my mind. my house was already so clean. there was no use in dirtying it up even more. maybe i could try a different outlet.

so i grabbed a paper and pen, scrambling off random words onto the paper. just random things that came to my mind.

I don't want it. And I don't want to want you. But in my dreams I seem to be more honest. And I must admit, you've been in quite a few.

it wasn't a lie. often times, he would show up in my dreams. i couldn't remember what was happening, but i knew he was there.

silly me to fall in love with you.

falling in love with a man who wasn't available. how stupid could i be? it wasn't going to happen, anyways. even though he was single now, he was a prick. he hated me. i can't believe i ever thought i had a chance.

NOAH'S POV.

i knew it was wrong to leave her there like that. but i couldn't stop myself. when i recieved the message i had oh so desperately been waiting for from alyssa, my feet seemed to move on it's own. my thoughts drifted back to conversation i previously had with nick as i drive to her place. the place we used to share.

"she what?!" nick yelled.

"calm down, dude." i said, my eyes red with previously shed tears.

i'd just recieved a picture from a good friend of mine, keaton, of my girlfriend and some random dude kissing in the mall while i was out on tour. part of me felt relieved. i knew it was wrong, but over the past couple years, i'd been growing feelings for another woman. [y/n], to be exact. why did i feel this way?

"god, dude, i wish she was a man so i could beat her ass."

"i know. just.. stay. i don't want to be alone."

i met alyssa when i was on tour at the very beginning of my career. i bumped into her when i was on a coffee run for everybody, and the way she carried herself, her voice, and generally just everything about her had me to my knees immediately. she didn't know who i was. and frankly, it was a relief. i didn't want to date some crazy fan, so i asked for her number.

we hit it off almost instantly. the first date i kissed her. everything was going fine for the first couple months, and then she started disappearing more. leaving the house more and staying out later. she always assured me that she was just going out with friends, but deep down i knew it was something more.

and really, everyone could see it but me. she was borderline abusive. sometimes physically, but i would play it off as jokes and fun. it was obvious it wasn't when she started leaving bruises. mentally and physically. telling me i would never be enough. that i wouldn't be anything without her. when we argued, she would put me down so far that sometimes, it was hard to get back up. but i managed. i always did.

it might sound absurd. a large, 6'3 and well built man being abused by a woman. and though i looked like that on the outside, it was all just a front. i never wanted to hurt anyone. i never wanted to be mean. i just wanted to be held. to be loved. i wanted her to love me. i wanted her acceptance, because that was all that mattered to me.

that soon proved to be a mistake.

i sighed, pulling into the driveway and sitting for a moment. this was wrong. so horribly wrong. but i couldn't find it in me to leave. i needed to know why she did this. why she left me. was i not good enough? what did the other guy have that i didn't?

i walked into the house and she greeted me with tears, shocking me.

"noah, please. i'm so sorry. i-i didn't mean to, please. i need you, you're the only man i love, i swear!"

my heart jumped at her words, though i knew they weren't true. over the years i'd been with alyssa, i knew she was cheating. lying. but i hated change. and i couldn't bring myself to leave. but keaton giving me the cold hard proof was all i needed to make the final choice.

"you cheated, alyssa. you did that. not me. you have no one to blame but yourself."

"so what, you came back to rub it in my face? tell me it's over for good?" she scoffed, the tears almost immediately disappearing and being replaced with a scowl.

"yes." i said simply.

"fine. he's better than you, anyways. richer, hotter, and he's bigger."

"whatever, alyssa." i sighed, grabbing my keys. i knew this was a mistake. "you walk out that door, and don't you ever call me again!" she shouted.

so i did.

i debated on whether or not i should go back to [y/n]'s apartment. after a few missed calls, i decided against it. she must still be sleeping. so i wen't to nick's house to crash. i'd go back to her house tomorrow, but for now, i just needed sleep.

READER'S POV

i found myself laying in bed, staring at the wall. once again, that void was in my chest. the void that could only be filled by him.

he called me numerous times, but i declined them all. he really had the guts to call me after he left? just left. without a single word. why would he do that?

tears flowed freely from my eyes as i remembered all the past experiences with the band. i missed them. i missed my friends. but i couldn't afford to get hurt again. i couldn't go through that again. so once again, i drifted off to sleep with the thoughts that lingered in my mind, despite my efforts to push them away.

halley's comet comes around more than i do. but you're all it takes for me to break a promise. silly me to fall in love with you.

[moralesispunk]

Chapter Two - Astra

Din Djarin x Witch! Reader

Summary: Three years later, Din returns to visit you and brings a new friend

Warnings: Nowwww we're getting into the story, a little angst, no other warnings for this chapter apply

Word Count: 2.3k

Chapter One | Series Masterlist | Chapter Three

***

Three Years Later

"Who is this?"

"I just call him Kid."

It was not unusual for your farm to be a resting stop for weary travellers.

Camping spots for nomads set up on the other side of your farm, stories or trinkets swapped for medicine or food. Every other month you would see one, and only every other time would they actually venture into your farm seeking out the witch they were informed - or warned - about.

Years of this had made you welcoming but carefully cautious of travellers and yet, until the Mandalorian, you had never let one inside your home.

Until the Mandalorian, they had never returned.

The second time he had appeared, he had stayed for only three days. He had helped you tend to the crops that still had another month before the harvest, had told you stories not expecting anything in return, had listened to your own tales with rapt attention.

The third time he returned was for less than a day, only to share news that he had heard of somewhere that sounded a lot like your home and so he had more questions to ask. Were the days long or short? Short. Were there neighbouring villages? None that you ever encountered. Do you miss your home? On particularly lonesome days, yes.

The fourth time he had stayed longer than before, two weeks where the walls thrown up between you and him had begun to crack and splinter until his discarded armour looked at home between your thick blankets and bottles of medicine, only his helmet and gloves remained.

For the next two years, the Mandalorian would stop by your farm as he travelled for his bounty hunting. Sometimes there were weeks between visits, other times months. Sometimes he stayed for less than a day, other times more than a week.

Now, nearly a year has passed since his last visit, and it’s hard not to imagine the worst - whether he grew bored of the visits, or whether he lost his life to a reckless hunt.

You hope not the former, not after his last visit when a moment had passed between you so much closer than ever before, but the thought of the latter had a sharp pain slicing through your chest. You would rather he was alive out there somewhere, even if that meant without you, than left for dead.

There was an entire shelf in your home dedicated to the Mandalorian’s gifts alone, ones brought on his returns. Rocks collected from planets he had visited, all neatly laid out and dusted each morning. You were there now, lifting them one by one to clean, when the familiar feeling tugged inside you, pulling you towards the door.

It was a feeling that kept you alive most days, a warning that someone was near your home, but it was different with him. Stronger, more excitement than fear.

Usually, you would wait until he was ready before you started towards him, but this time when you carefully peeked around the door and upon setting eyes on him, you could not ignore the pull towards him. Your legs were already carrying you across the farm before his helmet had even looked up in your direction.

The first time he had landed had been the end of the colder months, your farm bare and ready for the next season of planting. Now, it was flourishing, tall crops and plants brushing your fingers as you weaved through the empty path towards him, tickling the parts of your skin that were still rough from planting each seed.

He was different now. His armour was no longer rusting and now the same silver as his helmet, his shoulders carrying both straighter and prouder but also as though the world was resting on his shoulders, and in his arms-

Your steps faltered, bare feet soaking into the wet grass from the morning showers, and your lips parted.

In his arms was a small, tiny being. Green skin and wrapped up in a brown shawl, big eyes watching you as the Mandalorian’s steps slowed until he stopped a few paces away.

“Hello.” His voice was the same deep, honeyed sound that you heard in your dreams.

He shifted his weight onto his other leg, and even behind the visor you could tell he was watching you carefully. You stepped closer, eyes dancing between the visor and the child in his arms.

“Who’s this?”

His helmet dipped down, lifting the child higher on his chest so they were now eye height with you.

“I just call him Kid.”

You snort a laugh, holding a hand out towards the child. One small green hand rests on your finger and you shake it slowly up and down.

“Well, nice to meet you, Kid.”

He babbles in return and you laugh, your hand dropping only when his touch lets go. When you look back up, the Mandalorian’s gaze is already on yours.

“He’s not yours?”

“Not in that way, no.”

You nod. A family member, perhaps? A friend’s child? You have seen all kinds of families brought together in this universe - friends who become family and family who become friends.

“Are you hungry?” You ask.

His answering nod is slow, cautious, perhaps even questioning.

Maybe he expected the hundreds of questions that have kept you awake this past year. During the worst of it, four months ago, you had gone nearly a full moon cycle with barely more than an hour’s sleep every other night. On those sleepless nights you would wander the farm, checking on the crops, your mind galaxies away with the Mandalorian.

You had never yearned to travel the galaxies before. Tales told by travellers were simply that - stories to be enjoyed, consumed, but never once did you imagine yourself in them. You were the static being, one who stayed in the same place as the universe continued spinning on around you, and yet with the Mandalorian gone for so long, you began to wonder what you were missing out on.

Your mother had travelled the galaxies before you were born, that much you knew. She had been the only person in your village who had done so. The rest had been born there, had only ever left the village edge to hunt or barter goods.

She never spoke much of her travels, instead your father shared with you tales of your village and the generations before and those were the stories you had enjoyed; stories of people who had nurtured their home until it would flourish and keep future generations safe. Those were the stories you held closest to your heart.

But on the nights you wandered your farm you wondered what was out there that you had never seen. Would you have described other planets the way the talkative travellers had? Would you have liked what they liked and hated what they hated? The thoughts of travelling and the lost Mandalorian had kept you awake more often than not.

It’s not as bad now, the tiredness no longer keeps your face as hollow or your bones as tired, but you can already feel the urge to sleep well begin to seep into your muscles knowing that he’s alive.

The Mandalorian shifts his weight again, the child in his arms growing quiet as they continue to watch you carefully.

“I have some stew on.” You turn on your heels, leading them inside.

Your home is much the same as it was the first time the Mandalorian had visited. Warm, cosy, the new addition of a few trinkets from weary travellers who have visited in the past years and swapped them for a warm bowl of stew or extra layers for their journey.

The kid wanders around while the Mandalorian waits cautiously at the door, your back to him as you try to control the warring emotions on your face while preparing the table. When you finally turn, a forced calm on your face, even though his body is angled towards the kid you can feel his gaze on yours.

“Would you like to eat first or-”

“No. You and the kid can eat first.”

It’s awkward, something that hasn't been between you since the first day of his first visit here. He stands by the door while you eat, a few words shared of how he came by the kid - a bounty that he has now taken as his ward - and why he is here - the bounty still seemingly on his head.

Eventually you give up trying. Talking to the kid who only babbles in return.You tell him of last year’s harvest, of the weather, or a few visitors you have had. You don’t know if he understands - or if his babbles are telling you to stop annoying him - but you spend the rest of your meal this way.

When you look up again, the Mandalorian is gone. The door is open enough for you to see as he wanders the farm, looking carefully at your crops, occasionally bending down and testing the soil, and soon when the sun begins to set the small child beside you starts to lean his weight on you. Before long the sky is a dark navy and he has fallen asleep in his lap.

You tidy the mess of dinner, carefully moving the child to a makeshift bed. He curls into a half-knitted blanket, hands pulling it up higher until he is nearly entirely hidden from view, and you gently rock the chair.

He had never mentioned family before, not this kind of family anyway. He had spoken of his people, the few Mandalorian left that he knew of. They were good people, it seemed; bound by the same morals as he was.

Since the last time the Mandalorian had left your farm, after months of not seeing him, you left your farm and travelled further than you had in years to a close town. It was busier than the neighbouring villages you could walk to and from in a day, with busy shops and markets.

You had to stay a night there, and you had pushed the memory of the note you had left on your door left there should the Mandalorian have visited in the time you were gone - a pathetic hope that he would be there when you returned. When you got home, it was clear he had not been. You ripped the note off the door, throwing it in the fire you set for the evening, and then curled up in your chair with the book you had bartered for.

A History of the Lost Clan: Mandalorians

It was a small book, barely larger than your hand, and it now lay tattered on the shelves by the rocks. You read it cover to cover so many times you could recite it with your eyes closed.

You turn to pick it up, hand landing on the smooth surface of the shelf instead. Your hand drops, and when you look through the window the Mandalorian is now sitting on the steps of your porch.

You go outside and take a seat beside him, both of you looking out across your small farm, the new addition of goats and chickens in the corner and the flourishing crops everywhere else.

The Mandalorian clears his throat, his gloved fingers running down the spine of the book in his lap.

“How have you been?”

You don’t look at him when you answer.

“Good.” You tuck your knees towards your chest. “You?”

“Busy.”

You huff a laugh, resting your cheek on your knee and finally looking at him to find he is already carefully watching you.

“I wasn’t sure if something had happened to you.”

“I’m sorry,” he says and you shake your head.

“You don’t have to be. We’re not- so as to say’” You sigh, trying to find the words. “You don’t owe me an explanation.”

“No?”

Your eyes rake over him, and you shrug.

“The child,” you say, sitting up straighter, “he feels different.”

“I know.”

“I’ve only felt it twice before.” You twist your lips, trying to remember how long ago those travellers had ventured onto your farm but it was from a time when the years seemed to blur together - like many of the years before the Mandalorian.

“I’ve never known anyone like him.” He turns, facing back out into your farm, and you look at him carefully.

There is a tiredness hidden beneath his armour. When you first met him, you thought he was a statue beneath the layers of armour, now you can see for what it is - a barrier between him and the world.

Even though he spends most of his time quiet, his mind races beneath the helmet. You would give anything to know what goes on in there.

There is a thud of metal against your hip and you look down at the blaster placed by your side.

“Keep this. It seems the kid has trouble following wherever he goes. I don’t want him bringing it here when you have no protection.”

“I’ve gone long enough without needing a weapon.” You nudge it back towards him.

“Please.”

“I don’t know how to use it.”

“I’ll show you in the morning.” He pushes it closer to you again. “Please.”

You look between the metal and him before nodding once, tucking it in a pocket in your skirts.

“How long will you stay?”

It’s the first time you have asked. Never before have you given into the urge to want to know his return.

He sighs, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees and tucks the book closer to his chest.

“I need to do something. I’ll be gone for a week, maybe two. But then I’ll come back.”

“For what?”

His hand reaches out, gloved knuckles brushing down your cheek.

“For you.”

*****

And you know that saying, the calm before the storm…

[amkyor]

K. BAKUGO SHORT STORY ᡣ𐭩

Hands Off:

You sat on the couch, your eyes fixed on the movie playing on the screen, but your focus wasn’t on the plot.

Instead, you kept glancing over at Katsuki, who was sitting stiffly on the other side of the couch.

“Katsuki, are you mad at me?” you asked softly, your voice breaking the silence.

He didn’t answer right away, his crimson eyes flicking toward you for a moment before looking away.

His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, and his usual confident demeanor seemed unusually reserved.

“No,” he grumbled, his voice low.

“Then why won’t you come over here?” You patted the space beside you, trying to coax him closer.

“I’m fine right here,” he replied, his jaw tight.

You frowned, sitting up straighter. “Okay, what’s going on? You’ve been acting weird all evening.”

“It’s not a big deal,” he muttered, still avoiding your gaze.

“Katsuki,” you said firmly, sliding closer despite his attempt to create distance. “Tell me.”

He sighed heavily, finally uncrossing his arms and letting his hands rest on his knees.

His palms were glistening slightly, and he clenched them into fists as if trying to hide the evidence. “My damn hands won’t stop sweating,” he admitted through gritted teeth.

You blinked, caught off guard. “Your hands?”

“Yeah,” he snapped, frustration clear in his tone.

“They’ve been like this all day. I don’t want to touch you and—” He stopped himself, his expression darkening. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Your heart softened at his words, and you reached out to place your hand gently on his arm. “Katsuki, I’m not afraid of a little sweat.”

“It’s not just sweat,” he said, pulling his arm away. “You know how my quirk gets when my hands are like this. I’m not risking it.”

You moved closer, ignoring his protests, and gently took one of his hands in yours.

He stiffened, his eyes wide with concern, but you didn’t let go.

“Katsuki,” you said softly, looking up at him. “I trust you. You’ve got more control over your quirk than anyone I know.”

He swallowed hard, his gaze flicking between your face and your hand in his. “But what if—”

“No ‘what ifs,’” you interrupted, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “You don’t have to pull away from me just because you’re worried. We’re in this together, remember?”

He sighed, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he finally let himself hold your hand.

“You’re too damn stubborn,” he muttered, though the hint of a smile tugged at his lips.

“And you love me for it,” you teased, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“Tch. Maybe,” he grumbled, his free hand coming up to rest lightly on your back.

As the movie continued, Katsuki’s grip on your hand grew more confident, the tension in his body melting away.

And though his hands stayed warm and slightly damp, you didn’t mind one bit.

FANFIC RECOMMENDATION ᡣ𐭩

Adult Bakugo x Female Reader Fanfic

[rom-e-o]

So I went back a re-listened to this entire episode. And here's the official transcript in PDF form. There are typos, so I'm not sure if it was auto-generated, but it's here and it's nice for skimming! All the good stuff is there.

This came out Oct. 10 (I listened to it in traffic in the Central West End while setting up a pop-up shop downtown). The game came out Oct. 31.

This was the FIRST time we got to experience Emmrich's voice, attitude and personality (outside the previous two short stories we was featured in) before the game came out. The first time we really got a comprehensive look at what was to come, for around 40 minutes.

So, after a re-listen:

The episode does a great job showing how enthusiastic, kind, elegant, intelligent and helpful he is. He's super kind to Nadia, and a little dweeby in moments. And a stickler for proper introductions. Wonderful.

In the game, we see him serve as a physician to Harding, mostly. Here, he does have a more medical angle, I'd say. Asking Nadia about her sleep, checking a broken ankle, etc.

He also had a more mad scientist-esque vibe? That would be more in-line with the concept art we saw, where we see him holding vials and in lab settings.

We get to see much more of Manfred acting like an assistant here, in. He's getting supplies, prepping kits, performing ritual steps, and actively helping Emmrich with tasks. We didn't see much of that in VG, so hearing Manfred being such a hands-on help is a treat.

This moment where Emmrich calls a spirit back to its body is fun foreshadowing for ThatTM game decision, if its intentional.

I thought Rolet would return in VG, since he and Emm seem to know each other and have an understanding of each's personalities. He almost felt like something of a butler to him? All the chapters have characters like this, but I liked how fun they were!

Rolet "what the hell is happening" Lastname, you are relatable.

Emmrich talking to a possessed body like a dog that got caught stealing a table scrap is hilarious.

And then ... that part.

Well, THAT was a traumatizing thing to witness. And it's not mentioned in VG at all. My first thought was, "Well, they wouldn't use a moment from a supplemental podcast for canonical, in-game characterization." But then I thought, "Why not?" Well, this was all likely written way before the game came out, and at the time, we didn't know how important all this information would be.

The podcast really was a fun sneak peek at the characters more than an official prequel/set-up. To that tune, it's a fun ride!

So this moment, to me, is a nice way of cementing Emmrich as a genuinely kind-hearted, morally good necromancer. A pretty unique take for this type of fantasy trope.

It would have been truly evil if, in-game, the phrase "this is on YOU" reared its head again, especially after Rook fell in the Fade. Ouch.

Adds new meaning to why he calls Rook "flame of my heart" if romanced, yes?

[dustorangeheartssnow]

TAGGED BY @bluegarners and @daringyounggrayson THANK U!!!!!!

TAGGING @danishsweethearts @havendance @saturnaftertaste @biromantic-nerd @your-worst-knightmare

Number of stories posted to ao3: TWO

Word count of works posted last year: 26,177

Fandoms I wrote for: bat….man..

Pairings: all gen

Stories with the most kudos, bookmarks and comment threads: 

Most kudos: the lower and coarser soul

Most bookmarks: New Again

Most comment threads: New Again

Work I’m most proud of (and why): NEW AGAIN! 1) I neverrrr finish multi-chapter works and 2) IT IS AN IDEA I TRULY LOVE and an idea that i have desperately wanted to see executed for a LONG TIME and i am glad to have done it and am pleased as punch with the concept and the angst

Work I’m least proud of (and why): the lower and coarser soul i now think could be punchier and have more economy of language. Reading it back it feels tryhard and a little saccharine 

share or describe a favorite review you received: i got a review on a different fic asking if i would be updating New Again because they really liked New Again—and that was like omg. It really touched my heart that like someone was following my stories and thinking about my first chapter of another fic like enough to ask. New Again was really my baby and I more or less felt like it was me and that work against the world and it wouldn’t be very popular because it’s sort of a cheesy concept and Thomas Wayne Jr also is not too well-loved so it was like THAT ONE??? YOU WANT MORE OF THAT ONE??? And it was because of that comment from theknwing that I actually wrote and posted the next two chapters!!!! I literally would not have done that otherwise. I was so shocked and like omgggg when they asked. So thank u theknwing!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A time when writing was really, really hard: Writing is never hard for me but Having Ideas is REALLY HARD i never have ideas 

A scene or character you wrote that surprised you: 

I always knew I wanted to end New Again on the bittersweet (or just bitter) “watch his face when I leave and see how it falls” with Dick choosing Thomas over Bruce because Dick feels attached to Thomas and too melted-down and undeserving for Bruce, but I didn’t intend initially for the timeskip to be so many years. Frequently think about going back and revising it, but haven’t yet. BUT I DO REALLY LIKE THIS SPECIFIC PASSAGE

A favourite excerpt of your writing: 

THE SCENE AFTER THOMAS MAKES DICK KILL SCARECROW AND THEYRE BACK IN THE CAVE:

Dick slowly folds to his knees next to the computer. Thomas gazes down at him. Dick looks up. Onscreen is a description of the night as it happened in Thomas’s characteristic clipped, short sentences. The glow from the screen colors Thomas’s cheekbone angel-white. Next to the keyboard is a tray Alfred must have left, with sugarcubes, what smells like very strong peppermint tea, and neatly cut cucumber sandwiches. Thomas brings down a hand and brushes the back of his knuckles against Dick’s cheek. 

“I told you,” Thomas says quietly. “This doesn’t change anything.”

Dick turns his cheek away from Thomas’s hand. Instead, slowly, he presses his forehead against Thomas’s outer thigh, still plated with the Owlman suit. Thomas exhales sharply.

Thomas’s hand moves to the crown of Dick’s skull, where it applies almost possessive pressure, fingernails scraping against Dick’s scalp, even though Dick’s hair must make Thomas’s fingers wet. 

“I adore you,” Thomas says. 

Dick shudders.

How did you grow as a writer last year: I REALLY CUT DOWN ON A LOT OF MY PURPLE PROSE

How do you hope to grow this year: I WANT TO WRITE THINGS THAT ARE EXCITING AND LIKE FORCE ME TO MAKE JUMPS AND LEAVE THINGS OUT FOR THE READER TO HOTWIRE TOGETHER instead of me over explaining or lingering too long everything and undercutting the shortest point   

Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer, beta, cheerleader, etc.): EMMACORTANA MY BELOVED. Omg what a thing to be mutuals with one of your fandoms biggest writers and have them enact stunning hyperperceptive analyses of your work. She catches every single detail i cannot tell you how often i reread her notes. My hero mon ange whom i adore beyond measure 

Anything from your real life show up in your writing last year: Im sure lots and lots but nothing i can think of off of the top of my head. However the “Have I told you I love you yet today?” thing that Alfred says in a bunch of my work is from my mom saying that

Any new wisdom you can share with other writers: If what you want to write doesnt seem like it will have an audience and no one will want to read it but you REALLY love your idea, WRITE IT and do so with such like satisfaction and like dignity that you’re writing something truly a product of YOU and YOUR intuitions and knowledge and desires and thoughts, not just some burned-CD version of what you think some abstract Audience arbiter of popularity wants. Don’t even worry about things being popular. I know people say dont worry about that and then it is sad when your thing is unpopular or less popular and its like okay well. But its serious and its very important to not let people pick you up and move you from what you want. Do you know those people whose politics for example are just what will get them applause and what slogans they memorized from the Ideological Software Updates or whatever they can glean from çanva posts on  social media? Have you ever looked around and realized all of the people around you were saying exactly the same truisms you believed and thought were being especially Good and Clever for believing and they’re saying them all inelegantly and hamfistedly and for the wrong reasons like grievance and applause???? You HAVE to find it for yourself. That is a bad place to be—and that happens when you let yourself be moved too much. You have to not let yourself be moved except by you. You dont need to be on the cutting edge: You need to do you. Reinvent the wheel by all means if the wheel schematics are in your brain, or be a real true normie with the most basic aesthetic and media tests ever (I AM!!!!) but NEVER change your work and the sake of it being more popular. To make more $ sure, def change it, but for fun???? HAVE INTEGRITY WITH YOURSELF and what you want!! 15 kudos for something that is 100% truly yours what you wanted it to be is superior to 100 kudos for something that you compromised on even just 5% and buckled for bc then it’s something you don’t even want so like what was the point?

Any projects you’re looking to starting (or finishing) this year: 

i have this one medieval dc fic within the context of like william blakes mythopoesis that I’ve been TRYING TO GET OUT and i alsoI have this Azrael&Dick enemies-to-???? fic in my mind where there shall be a silly (in context it is supposed to b sad. But describing it, it is very silly) scene where JPV has like all these mini hard pretzels in a bag and drops the bag and then half are broken in half and so JPV spreads them all out on the countertop and is breaking the others in half because of like. i don’t want to diagnosticize here bc JPV has a Lot going on but like OCD-adjacent reasons and Dick comes in and sighs and then in total pure silence under the kitchen light in the middle of the night they sit across from each other and break the rest of the pretzels in perfect halves until the unbalancedness doesnt  bother JPV anymore and after that JPV is so totally touched by that act and he is so obsessed enamored with DG

[everlastingdreams]

The Weeping Monk x Fem!Reader : Forged Of Fire Chapter 38

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Story Summary: Raised under the tiranny of your own family, and forced to steal to earn your keep, you struggle to survive. Born from a Fey mother, and a Manblood father who wanted only sons, you are forced to hide your Fey side. When you are ordered to steal from Father Carden by your half-brother, Cassian, your life spirals out of control and you find yourself at the mercy of the Weeping Monk. The life you knew changes drastically when Cassian betrays you in the cruelest of ways. A trade is made, a promise is broken, and a debt must be paid.

Chapter Title: Rainy Days

Notes: /

Warnings: Angst. Hurt. Trauma bonding. Intrafamily violence. Depression. Self-harm. Suicidal thoughts. Violence. Torture. Gore. Pining. Trauma. Self-Flagellation. Manipulation. Strong Language. Blood. Misogyny. PTSD. Spicy and smut parts. Slight redemption arc. Lima/Stockholm syndrom-ish. Childhood trauma.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forced Marriage. Forbidden Love. Romance. Slow-burn. Found Familly-ish. Comfort. Fluff. !SMUT and SPICE!

Word count of this fic: +250K

Chapter:  38/47

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The trip back to the city was short and quick. You had made Percival wear your spare cloak that you’d brought along from Ravenwick, it was too long for the boy but it was good to ride in. When visiting the market however he stayed seated on the horse, covered in the cloak when the predicted rain began to fall. Most of the group where walking beside their horses, as were you and Lancelot. The plan was that everyone bought what they needed and then reunited by the statue at the east side of the market. So you, Lancelot and Percival went to search for shops that sold clothing. In this weather the shopkeepers sold clothes from their homes instead of a stall where the fabrics would get soaked from the rain.

Lancelot helped Percival down from the horse when you found a merchant that sold clothes for children. He tried to shield him from the rain with his towering height and it only spared the boy from it a little. Inside the merchant’s house it was warm and cozy thanks to the fire in the hearth. The young woman was quick to try and ask if Percival saw anything he liked between her wares. You noticed just how close the boy stayed by Lancelot’s side, looking a bit uncomfortable.

He gently tried to push Percival towards the stacks of jackets that were in large woven baskets. Quietly encouraging him, “Go on.”

You knelt by one of the baskets and started to show them the jackets one by one. “Pick what you like, you need something warm. And a good cloak.”

Percival looked up at Lancelot, quietly admitting, “I don’t know if I have enough coins…”

You spoke before Lancelot could make the offer he would have made. “That doesn’t matter because I am going to purchase a cloak and jacket for you.”

“But why?” Percival blurted out surprised.

The answer was simple. “Because I love you, and you need a good cloak and jacket.”

The poor boy’s face flushed and he almost elbowed Lancelot in the leg when he felt the playful nudge to his shoulder blade.

You picked a jacket out of the basket that looked similar to the one he wore, albeit sturdier. “Try this one?”

Sheepishly the boy tried it on, patting the leather and tugging at the sleeves. He was so very quiet.

Lancelot had a hunch why that might be. “Have you ever done this before?”

Percival shook his head. Life for the Fey was anything but easy and being able to purchase clothing was a privilege not many still had.

“Take your time to decide.” Lancelot smiled down at him.

“I like this one.” Percival looked your way.

You were glad to hear it. “Excellent. Do you want to search out a cloak?”

Percival was a little more comfortable and went to the baskets with cloaks. He rummaged through them for a while. You gave the merchant an apologetic smile but she didn’t mind to see the boy get enthusiastic towards the wares she had spend her time on making.

Percival pulled out a black cloak, heavier in weight than his worn-down one. “Oooh.”

He was so fast to put it on, to admire it and turn around to see how it moved. It was perfect for his height. You shared a look with Lancelot, getting a slow nod from him.

“May I have this one?” Percival’s hopeful eyes set on yours. “Please?”

He could not help but smile at the boy’s polite way of asking, the time he had spend on teaching it to him had been worth it.

“Of course.” With those pleading eyes you would have still said ‘yes’ even if it had costed you all the coin you had. You took out a silver coin to pay the merchant with.

“Can I get a satchel like that too?” The boy pointed at the one at your hip, adding another ‘please’.

“Do you have one available?” Lancelot asked the merchant and saw her nod.

He waited for her to grab it and show it to Percival who was but all too glad to have it. Then as you rummaged in your satchel for another coin, Lancelot paid her for the satchel himself. Percival looked so happy and thanked you and him for it.

Lancelot asked the merchant where one could find a goldsmith in the city and was directed a couple of houses to the left of her shop.

“Come. There is another matter we must tend to today.” He steered the boy out of the shop after thanking the merchant for her fine wares and time. You followed them out.

The reins of Percival’s horse were tied to Goliath’s to make it easier to lead the horses through the pathways. You reached the goldsmith quite quickly. Percival acted like a crow in there, picking up all the small bits of jewelry that caught his eye.

Until Lancelot plucked a necklace from his fingers to put it back on the counter. “We are not here to browse.”

“Then why are we here?” The boy eyed him curiously.

“To have her ring altered.” he told him.

You handed the ring to Lancelot, seeing the boy’s eyes fix on it. Lancelot showed it to the goldsmith and discussed the options.

“Is that because you’re wed?” Percival wondered out loud.

Lancelot was looking at you to answer. You told the boy that he was correct, that you had been given the ring yesterday and that you loved it but it was just a little too tight to wear yet and that was why you were at the goldsmith.

“As the ring is only slightly tight, it will only take him a moment to adjust it.” Lancelot turned to you as the goldsmith walked away to work on the ring. The boy had picked up a brooch and he plucked it from the child’s fingers to put it back.

Percival looked up at him annoyed. “Can’t I purchase something for her?”

Quickly you refused that sweet offer. “Percival, you should save up your coins for yourself. It is sweet of you to consider giving me something but I’d rather you save it for yourself.”

He wasn’t yet convinced and was reasoning with himself over it. “But you gave me something…”

You brushed a hand over his head. “You needed those clothes. I do not need to be adorned with jewels.”

The goldsmith returned with the ring, a light tap of a hammer was enough to make it a little bigger. “No charge.” He told Lancelot who had asked.

He thanked the goldsmith and then stole your hand to slip the ring on your finger. “How is it now?”

Percival got a closer look at the ring, quietly approving of how it looked.

“It’s perfect.” The ring sat secure but not tight. You thanked the goldsmith for his kind service.

Lancelot held on to your hand, eyes fixed on the ring, a curve in his lips. “It is.”

Your eyes met, he was already leaning in to seal the moment with a kiss when Percival very loudly exclaimed ‘yuck’. It made him kiss your cheek instead and it still earned another ‘yuck’ from the boy. You chuckled at both their responses to the situation.

“We should head to the statue.” He pulled the hood of your cloak over your head, then turned to do the same for Percival.

After thanking the goldsmith one last time, you left his workshop to head to the statue to reunite with the rest of the group. There were more people walking around now and Lancelot kept a sharp eye on Percival. You walked a little behind them alongside Bear because it had gotten so crowded on the narrow paths. You still didn’t like to be in places that were too crowded, it brought upon an unsafe and anxious feeling.

“Not one for crowds?” Merlin’s voice suddenly came from close beside you. He had finished his own matters in the city and was on his way to the statue as well. Lancelot and Percival noticed his presence and he acknowledged them with a tilt of his head. The magician began to walk beside you.

“I spend a lot of my life in near isolation,” you explained your dislike for crowded placed. “My father and brother tried to keep me docile and obedient that way.”

“I never had the pleasure of meeting your mother. But I did have the misfortune of meeting your father once, in an inn in Ravenwick whilst I was enjoying some wine.” Merlin grimaced at the memory. “The townsfolk did not exaggerate when they told me he was unpleasant. I was warned not to return to Ravenwick, he saw my presence as a bad omen.”

You could make light of it now. “Consider yourself lucky that you only met him once.”

He was a pleasant person to speak to. “I wish I had met you there. Ash Folk are rare, near extinction, if you and your husband are not the last already. But you are even rarer, I have never seen a child born between one of the Ash Folk and a Manblood.”

You didn’t feel as special as he believed you to be. “It just makes me a half-blood. Lancelot’s Ash Folk abilities are much more refined and stronger than mine.”

Merlin heard the doubt in your voice. “You should not compare them to his, his ancestors are worshiped as gods by the Fey. If you have even one of the abilities he has, you have more than many others can speak for.”

“Did his parents have strong abilities too?” you quietly asked him.

He remembered them well. “Among the strongest I have seen in Fey. Ban’s control over Fey Fire made him feared. Elaine could sense the Fey miles across a forest at times. Does Lancelot not speak of them to you?”

It was a matter that had crossed your mind before. “He never speaks of what he remembers of them, never about how they were like. He mentions them, but it feels like he feels no connection to them.”

“If he desires to learn about them, I would be glad to share my memories of them with him.” Merlin offered.

You were glad to hear the offer, it would give Lancelot a chance to get to know more about his past. “I’ll talk to him about it.”

He gave a nod. “Be gentle on the matter. In Gramaire I could see how troubled he was when I spoke of them.”

“I will be. Thank you.”

It felt more comfortable to have him walk beside you, at least it dampened some of the anxious feeling that the crowded places created. Before arriving at the statue you ended up stopping at another merchant to purchase some bread, vegetables and fruit, and much needed blankets, a small comfort you wouldn’t deny yourself of any longer.

    ~~~♡~~~♡~~~◇~~~♡~~~♡~~~

  The group had gathered by the statue as was agreed upon. And when everyone was present, the group resumed the journey, leaving the city. The feared rain descended upon the heads long after passing the inn again. Night was falling and Gawain and Lancelot were trying to find a good place in the forest to rest. If no shelter was found, the gushing rain would leave everyone soaked to the bone eventually. No cloak could withstand such weather. It was as if the Hidden had heard their struggle, as the rain stopped once they had decided on a place to set up camp for the night. Large pines covered the area, shielding the ground from most of the moon’s light. Thanks to the foliage and branches of the trees there were dry places on the ground and you searched out spots with Percival to sleep. You grabbed the blankets you had purchased and handed one to Percival who found himself a nice spot at the foot of a large pine. A couple of trees to the left you picked an old thick lone beech to sleep against. Gawain, Arthur, Merlin and Red Spear were discussing something, Lancelot quietly stood and listened. From what you could tell it was about which path to take tomorrow. Then Lancelot went to Percival and knelt beside him, speaking with the boy whilst he took it upon himself to put the blanket over the child’s form, he almost did it absentmindedly. You could partly hear Percival talk to him about his new satchel and how he could store his coin, and other things that he obtained, inside of it. The boy sounded happier after that trip to the market, after the scarf he had gotten before that, it were little things that let him know people were looking after him. You tried to listen in to their conversation a little.

“Can I hold the sword?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It is dangerous.”

“But you’ve held it!”

“I am older.”

“That you are.” The boy had a smug grin.

Lancelot knew right away it was meant to taunt, he almost rolled his eyes but tilted his head down. “Promise me you will not touch the sword, not without my permission.”

“But why?” The boy insisted.

He breathed out, “I do not want you to get hurt.”

Percival sat back against the tree, bumping his feet into Lancelot’s boot. ���Lancelot?” He fidgeted with the blanket. “What happens when we arrive at the place Merlin talks about?”

He tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“Will it still be like this…?” Percival sounded worried that things might change again.

He brushed a hand over the boy’s hair. “You and y/n are what matters most to me, that will not change. Be not afraid.”

The boy was content with that answer and sank further back, sinking under the blanket to his chin. “Promise?”

His voice was full of conviction. “I swear it. Now try to rest.”

Percival gave him one of his rare sweet smiles, not a grin, not a smirk, a genuine smile. Lancelot got up from the ground to let the boy sleep. You had began to read from your mother’s journal again, taking the calm moment to relax.

Lancelot knelt down beside you, kissing your cheek and lingering before you could even turn your head to look at him. “Is there room for me here?”

Merlin made eye-contact with you whilst he walked to Arthur, it made you remember the conversation you had had with him earlier. And now that Lancelot appeared to be in a good mood this could be the right time to speak about it to him.

“Always,” you said. “Before we rest, I was hoping to speak to you alone for a moment.”

His interest was piqued, a dashing smile presented itself on his lips. “Of course.”

You got up from the ground and walked to a more private area in the forest with him. It was hard to predict his response to what you had wanted to speak to him about. His heritage and parents had always been a sensitive subject and you had not forgotten how he had reacted once. Your mother had written about Father Carden and how the paladins lined up children, to find one like him… The pain was only one wrong word away and you feared treading on that path. But he had the right to know his parents, to know the truth and Merlin could give him that. It was worth taking a risk for.

You were walking a few steps ahead of him. “I think we’re far enough. They won’t hear us here.”

He proved himself a talented hunter, able to move silently, turning out to be closer than expected. He caught you by the waist, turned you to face him, pulling you close. His mouth was on yours before you could bring a word out.

You broke away from his lips, chuckling in surprise. “I have given you the wrong impression I think.”

His brows drew together. “I thought…”

“Clearly.” you tried not to giggle and failed. “I really did want to speak to you about something important.”

“I’m listening.” He was also very focused on your lips.

You began. “I spoke to Merlin. He has offered to speak to you about your parents.”

His expression changed immediately, his gaze snapped away from you and he stepped back, letting you go.

It was a reaction you had predicted. “I’m curious too. They were full blooded Ash Folk. Royalty of our clan. I just don’t want that knowledge to be lost to us and-”

He was evasive and short. “It does not matter now.”

“How can it not matter, Lancelot?” Your voice was soft. “They were your parents. I would love to hear about who the people were that had such an incredible son.”

“If you want to hear about them, ask Merlin yourself.” It was said sharply.

The last time he had used that tone to you was back when you barely knew him. “Lancelot-”

He was harsh. “This is not your concern. Why are you pushing this matter?!”

You tried not to feel upset to hear his responses. “I’d rather you be angry at me for trying, than not try at all. This is important. I don’t want you to miss this chance! Lancelot, there is more to your past than your childhood with the paladins. Why are you so against learning of it?”

What was there to learn? That his family was murdered in cold blood, that their son was taken and raised into what they would have despised? He was an insult to their memory. He did not want to keep thinking about it, he did not want to remember, he did not want the nightmares again. It was causing his temper to flare up.

His body was tense, trembling as he breathed. This was not anger, this was him struggling with his emotions.

“Lancelot.” You reached for him but he pushed your hand away

His tone was confrontational and bordered on cold. “Ignorance can be bliss. Did it help you to learn how tormented your mother’s life was? To know she died at the hands of your father?”

The comparison came out far too harsh, and it had already left his lips when he decided it was uncalled for.

You felt unwell after hearing that, to have him throw that painful fact in your face… No. Even if it had been made to draw a comparison, there were others ways he could have said it. “I see I’ve exasperated you. I won’t bother you anymore.”

He let out a sigh and spoke your name. No response. He did so again and was met with nothing but silence as you tried to walk past him. Your arm was in his grasp before you could take another step. But for you this conversation was over, he was not a pleasant person to speak with when he was in this mood.

You broke free of his hold. “I’m going back to the group and sleep.”

He let you return to the group whilst he stayed behind in the forest alone for a moment. You retreated to the place where your blanket laid in wait. Not much later you saw Lancelot return and talk to Gawain, to Arthur… to almost everyone but you and Merlin. Keeping himself busy was his way of avoiding the matters that haunted him, and it wasn’t the first time he had reacted in such a way. You laid down on your side to sleep under the blanket, hoping that during the night he would think on the matter again before making a decision.

    ~~~♡~~~♡~~~♧~~~♡~~~♡~~~

  Somewhere into the night, you were gently woken by Lancelot. Everyone else seemed to be sleeping except for a few who kept watch over the group for safety.

He sounded far calmer than earlier. “I wish to speak with you, will you come with me?”

Still half asleep, you got up and let him lead you a little away from the sleeping group. It took a little longer than before, because you were trying to rub the sleep from your eyes and he was trying to prevent you from tripping over things on the ground. He came to a halt, still keeping your hand in his, looked around for a moment and then led you with him to sit on a fallen tree. The conversation from early still bothered you, and caused the refusal to sit.

“You are angry with me.” He could read it from your eyes.

Your tone was icy, “What do you expect after the way you spoke to me earlier?”

“I am sorry. I truly am.” With cautious steps he approached, but it was the look in your eyes that made him stop and sit down on the fallen tree instead. “I did not mean to upset you. I admit, the comparison I tried to make did not come across as I had intended. I was trying to make you understand how the truth can cause us more pain than needed.”

You faced him. “I understand that. But I do not deserve having to undergo the result of your frustration, I was trying to help.”

Remorse was layered in his voice. “I know.”

Slowly you got closer, sitting down beside him. “But I am sorry for hurting you when I pushed the matter about your parents. I hope you know that I never wish to see you hurt.” A quiet sigh. “I had to live without knowing anything about my mother because they hoped I’d forget she ever even existed, much like Father Carden had hoped you’d forget your parents. I was trying to spare you from that suffering.”

He straightened his back, then leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, folding his hands together. “Their faces are but a vague memory to me now.” He began. “I am the reason they are dead, that Hector is dead, my existence was their demise.”

“Hector… who is ‘Hector’?”

Never before had you heard him mention this name or person, but whoever it was, he felt guilty over their death.

His voice grew quieter, “My brother. He had only seen a few full moons.”

“I never knew…” You fell quiet.

It was difficult for him to speak of it. “The night the paladins came, I only remember parts of it. Memories have blended with haunting dreams. My mother was carrying Hector when my father put down the floorboards above my head to hide me and a few other Fey children. A babe’s cry would have drawn the paladins towards us, they took Hector with them. I believe they knew their chances of survival were slim. I never saw them again. But as I grew, I knew why Father Carden had not chosen Hector as well, one so young was too fragile, too much work. A babe was not as easily fed as an older child. Perhaps, if I had not been found, Father Carden would have chosen Hector out of necessity, perhaps even spared my mother.”

You took hold of his hands. “That guilt is not yours to carry. Do not blame yourself for the cruel choice Father Carden made.”

A tear slowly followed the path of the marking on his cheek. “I do not remember their faces well, not truly, but I remember that I loved them and they loved me. I remember hearing it be said to me by them, and I spend years hoping to hear it again from another person.”

Silence fell wherein you held his hands and he tried to keep himself composed as much as possible.

He began to play with your fingers absentmindedly. “I never allowed myself to miss them, I was commanded not to miss them. But I cannot command my dreams to forsake them. I still dream of Hector in his crib, his eyes the brightest shade of blue. My mother’s curls the color of gold. My father, I find it hardest to remember him, but I like to believe that I look like him.”

His voice broke on the last sentence, tears visible until he hid his face in his hands. A breath shook through him, sorrow threatened to tear him asunder. Your arms wrapped around him, desperate to protect him from the pain the world burdened him with. Softly, you caressed his back, hoping to offer some comfort with soothing gestures. Neither moved for a while, apart from him leaning into you more. Minutes passed, the soft swaying of the leaves in the wind the only sound. An arm came around your waist, pulled you into him so he could bury his face into the crook of your neck. He was calmer.

Your voice was a whisper, “Lancelot… I do not want you to have to wonder like I did. All I have of my mother is her journal and a bracelet. But you have a living person who knew your parents.”

His embrace grew tighter, free hand coming up to the back of your head to hold. He murmured against your neck, “I will speak to, Merlin.”

“Will you?”

“Yes.”

It was such a relief to hear. “So much of the Fey has been lost to time already, songs, books and even languages. We should save what we can.”

He nodded and recalled a promise he had made. “Speaking of Fey languages, remember when I asked you if you could read what is engraved on the sword?”

You nodded and he let go of you a little. “I remember. I truly cannot translate those symbols on the blade, but you can?”

“Yes.” he said. “It is quite fitting what is written on the blade, a warning for all those willing to wield it.”

It had gotten you more than a little curious to learn what was engraved on that mystical sword. “What does it say?”

He carefully drew the sword free and put it down into his lap. “Each of it’s sides has a different engraving. This one-” his finger traced along the symbols, “-says ‘Take me up’.”

You could hear the presence of the Hidden now that the sword was under his touch, as if he calmed the power within the weapon. He turned it over in his lap and traced his finger over the other symbols.

He showed it to you, careful not to let the sword touch you in case it would harm you. “And this side translates to ‘Cast me away’.”

That was odd, it contradicted each other. “What do you think it means?”

He had spend some time thinking about it since it came into his possession. “There is a time to pick up a sword and fight. But we should never forget that there is a time to put it down. Many forget to put their weapons down again once a war has been waged. I believe this is what the sword desires, to be cast away once the Fey are free again.”

It was a wise thing of him to think, proving that the sword indeed had chosen a worthy owner. “You are clever.”

He blinked twice rapidly, then locked eyes with you. “Pardon?”

You felt a hint of pride. “You heard me. You are clever. Not many would pay attention to that engraving, let alone think about it’s meaning like that.”

After a few seconds, he realized he was staring and looked down at the sword again. He sheathed it and stood up. “I believe that is the first time you said that to me.”

Your lips curled into a smile. “It’s not the first time I thought it though.”

It appeared the compliment had flustered him somewhat, he slowly walked around a little until he touched the bark of an oak, seeming to inspect it to distract himself from what he must have felt. You rose to your feet and went over to him, deciding to lean against the oak just next to his hand.

“I’m curious about something.” You were practically eyeing him up and down.

He was not blind to the way you were looking at him and swallowed hard. “What is it?”

You leaned your head against the bark. “What happens if you touch a leaf of the Ash tree?”

He felt a little embarrassed. “My markings appear in the form of green leaves and vines over my skin. Much like yours that day when Cassian held the leaf to your hand, but mine are… more intense?”

You rolled your eyes a little. “Of course yours have to be prettier than mine again.”

A chuckle came from him. “Is that another compliment?”

You didn’t answer, too stubborn to admit it. He stepped closer, bringing his hand to your waist to pull you in.

He leaned in slowly, lightly brushing his lips where the mark under your eye hid under your skin. “Never believe that yours are anything less than beautiful.”

You felt your chest flutter pleasantly at the sweet kiss. “They will never be as beautiful as yours.”

“They are to me.” he whispered as he brushed his nose along your own. “We should head back.”

Your forehead touched his while humming in agreement. He offered you his hand, to keep it in his while walking back to the group. Arthur and a few of Red’s crew were awake to keep watch, and they tried not to look too curious when they saw you return.

It was a pleasant surprise when Lancelot decided to rest at your side for the night. Neither of you were bold enough to truly get too comfortable with others around. You used the side of him as a pillow to sleep against, and he slept so comfortably that it was to be envied.

    ~~~♡~~~♡~~~◇~~~♡~~~♡~~~

  In the morning, after having some breakfast to eat, some of Red’s crew had started to spar. One challenged Arthur, not much later Arthur challenged Gawain. It was entertaining to watch and you sat next to Percival to see it happen.

Lancelot stood only a step beside you and commented on the interest you and the boy showed in the sparring. “Use that as an example how not to place your feet when sword fighting.”

Gawain had heard that comment, as did everyone else who was sparring. You were mortified by the bluntness Lancelot had displayed and upon looking up at his face there was the smuggest look in his eyes. You swatted at his boots in scolding.

“You think you can handle us?” One of the crew said, laughing among his comrades at how ridiculous it was to even think it.

Lancelot slowly let his eyes glide over the group of four. “I know I can.”

You sighed deeply, shutting your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose. Muttering quietly, “We just got back from the healers…”

Red Spear got involved. “Prove it!” she demanded of him.

It was all the incentive he needed to step forward, but he did not draw a sword. Gawain was shaking his head, knowing all too well that the Ash Man had made the loud comment just to invite himself into the spar.

“You’re not going to use the sword?” Arthur gestured to the cursed sword at Lancelot’s hip.

“No.” He nodded to one of the crew, the one who had challenged him. “I will use his.”

A frown settled on the faces of the four. Then Lancelot beckoned for them, arrogantly daring them to try and get him to submit. Two launched themselves at him and learned how fast the Ash Man truly was. He was so used to wearing the cloak in battle that he had learned to use it to his advantage. They failed to see properly how he was moving and what he was targeting. The one who had challenged him was the first to end up falling face down on the grass, without his sword. As informed, Lancelot used the sword to spar with the ones that were able to stay on their feet. It was obvious to you and perhaps even Gawain and Arthur that he was holding back, moving slower to truly test their skill. As the spar went on, others of the crew tried their skill against his and of course he couldn’t resist commenting on what they did well and what they did wrong. And if they refused to accept the flaw in their way of fighting, he simply showed them why that was a poor decision.

Percival had gone to try and convince one of the crew to spar with him too, but it was Arthur who indulged the boy. You had long forgotten about eating the rest of the bread in your hand. Your attention was fixed on Lancelot and how agile he was. Light on his feet, complete control over how his body moved, and a sharp look in his eyes. The longer you watched, the more your attraction to him grew.

Gawain had stopped beside you. “Careful. You are almost drooling.”

Your eyes snapped up at him, your face felt too hot. “Pardon?”

The knight found that reaction quite amusing. “I hope to one day find someone who looks at me the way you look at him.”

“You will.” You told him, smiling. “I have no doubt about that.”

He was cheery. “You sound so certain of the matter.”

Getting up from the ground, you tapped his arm amicably. “A handsome knight such as yourself will certainly have others lining up to woo you.”

Gawain cleared his throat, face flushing a bit. “Many tend to be intimidated by it.”

“The right person won’t be.” you said.

He gestured to the sparring that mostly looked like Lancelot’s way of trying to become friendly with some more people. “Look at him. Most would just have a friendly conversation to acquire friendship. Instead he draws their attention this way.”

It was a correct observation. “Maybe it’s easier this way for him. I never truly saw him have a full conversation with anyone when he was with the paladins.”

“Does that make us special?” he jested.

Your smile widened. “I’d like to believe it does.”

Off to the side Arthur was trying to dodge Percival swinging his own sword at him. You could see that the boy was getting a bit too enthusiastic and hurried over, grabbing hold of Percival’s arm.

“Careful, Percival!” you took the sword from the boy’s hands. “You’re going too fast.”

“I can handle it.” Arthur tried to save his ego.

You turned Percival in Gawain’s direction and gave him a light push to make him walk towards the knight. “You’re a poor liar, Arthur. And I’m not letting this go on until you lose a limb.”

Arthur carefully took the sword from your hand. “Since when do you care about my limbs?”

Were you still not past this? “You consider me cruel?”

Arthur’s demeanor changed instantly, he flashed a bright smile. “No. I find you more sweet than you let on.”

Was it his intention to sound so flirtatious? Or was that just his character? It was still unclear, you had not spoken to him much yet. “Oh?”

“Why are you with him still?” Arthur knew the risk he took with such a question.

You frowned. “What?”

He had a poor way of trying to make you understand. “I mean no insult. It’s just strange to see the Weeping Monk with someone like you.”

You tried to be calm, to understand his point of view. “He is not the ‘Weeping Monk’ anymore, Arthur. He is Lancelot and he is my husband.”

He blurted out, “but you are so gentle…”

It slipped from your tongue, “I choose to be. But that does not mean I do not feel the urge to hurt you when you question why I am with him.”

Arthur did not feel threatened by it, no, he let out an entertained chuckle. He tilted his chin up. “Spar with me then. Or are you too sweet for it after all?”

You had drawn your sword and charged at him, Arthur parried quickly. He was not as slow as you had expected him to be, he was not as graceful as Lancelot but you could tell that Arthur was at an advanced level with his sword fighting skill. One unexpected move from him and you lost your footing, landing on your rear.

“Oooff…” You winced at how sore your behind felt.

He helped you back up to your feet, inspecting you for injuries. “You alright?”

You were a bit salty over the humiliation, others had surely seen it happen. “Are we sparring or not?”

“Ah. Of course, my lady.” He gave an arrogant bow.

Your sword clashed with his again, the sound of it rang into your ears. For the first time you truly understood why Lancelot had challenged the others to spar instead of just conversing with them, it felt freeing and personal. A lot was to be learned from how someone fought or sparred. Arthur was not someone who used trickery, he counted on his skill to be enough or he’d work on it harder. He took risks but there was still a layer of caution and even restrain in his movements. Lancelot would use every bit of knowledge to win, his movements would flow and they would stop when he commanded it, they would not be hesitant in the midst of it as Arthur’s were. Arthur was a fighter who needed space to move, his movements were wide and lacked some control but he definitely had talent.

“You’re not bad.” you commented while parrying.

He appreciated the comment, it was as close to a compliment it would get in the midst of a spar. And then he disarmed you, the sword fell from your hands and landed a couple of feet away. Almost did you lose your footing again.

Arthur quickly moved to grab hold on you, wrapping an arm around you for support. “Careful there. Don’t want you losing any limbs.”

That was… nice? He was kinder than you had thought him to be. He even brushed away a leaf that had been stuck to your sleeve from falling. It was only a few seconds of him holding on to make sure you were alright, and it were those seconds that must have made the Ash Man come to the wrong conclusion. Your sword down on the grass, Arthur brushing over your arm and holding you, how simple it was to misread the situation if the moments leading up to it were missed. You saw the storm in Lancelot’s eyes mere seconds before he was close enough. Swiftly you turned to face him, nearly throwing yourself into him to grab him by the waist. You were a shield, a barrier to protect both Arthur and him. The instant closeness was enough to make him slow to a halt.

“Hello, darling.” It rolled off of your tongue so easily and as seductive as it was intended to be. With your chest against his, you searched his eyes. “I almost fell. Arthur kindly helped me.”

The storm passed by, his eyes returned to their calmer state. The term of endearment had a more positive effect than anticipated.

Arthur cleared his throat, hiding how nervous it had gotten him to know how close it had come to an altercation. “I won’t steal your wife, Lancelot. Do not worry.”

Lancelot could hear the lighthearted tone, the tension between the men was gone as quickly as it had risen.

“I cannot be stolen.” you told them.

Arthur gestured to you whilst speaking to him. “She’s quite good with a sword, your doing?”

You let him take the praise for that. “He’s been tutoring me.”

Lancelot got a bit timid. “She is an apt pupil.”

“Her footing needs more work.” Arthur said.

Your smile turned into a slight glare. But he was perhaps right, you had just almost fallen twice. “I’ll get better.”

“I’m sure you will.” Arthur amicably tapped you on the arm but withdrew his hand quickly. He walked away, going in Red Spear’s direction.

Lancelot went to pick up your sword and you followed him those few steps. As he knelt down on the grass, you asked about what had just transpired.

“Did you worry I was getting too familiar with Arthur?”

“No.”

“I know that look you had in your eyes "

He looked up at you through his lashes, a certain innocent yet embarrassed look that would easily make you forgive him anything. “I was a monk, and seeing how simple it is for some men to touch a woman they hardly know still bewilders me. Is it so simple for them to just give in to their thoughts mindlessly?”

The vow had been hammered into him since childhood. It was no surprise that he still had moments when he struggled with the differences between him and those who had spend their lives outside of the clergy.

You tried to take the sword back from his hands when he got up to his feet. “Most people were not taught that just touching someone is a sin, they felt more freedom in those matters.”

He tugged at the sword belt around your hips to get you close enough, then put your sword in it’s sheath himself. “My reaction was not aimed at you. I trust you. It was aimed at how Arthur held on to you with no hesitation.”

Ah… so there was a spark of jealousy involved. Even if he did not truly realize that is how it came across. “He meant nothing by it. I am quite certain he is far more interested in a certain captain.”

“What do you mean?” He frowned.

You discreetly tilted your head and made him follow your gaze as it landed on Arthur and Red Spear standing close to each other whilst conversing. Red had a small smile dancing on her lips as she listened to Arthur. “Have you ever seen her smile at anyone else like that?”

Realization hit him, you gave a knowing look. Those two had been talking and riding beside each other often. To you it was obvious what was growing between them. Lancelot smiled and it dawned on you that you might have given him the perfect information to annoy Arthur with.

Your eyes squinted at him. “Lancelot.”

He recognized the scolding undertone. “The Manblood has a weakness for the Red Spear.”

“Don’t even think about it.” you warned.

He grinned with mischief. “Of course not.”

Gawain walked by. “We are heading out. We should reach the castle today. Wear a cloak should the rain return.”

“Thank you, Green Knight.” you told him, hearing Lancelot echo the same thing to him.

The knight continued to walk, letting others know that it was time to return to the horses and continue the journey.

“Best not keep him waiting.” Lancelot whispered and gave a playful nudge with his arm against yours.

You returned to the horses and made certain Percival sat safely in the saddle before you went to Bear. You saw Lancelot ride up to Merlin and hoped all would go well when he decided to begin the conversation about his parents.

Taglist:

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Please let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist of this story. Using this old list from the previous fic.

[merrycrisis-if]

Hello I've read CT:OS (I'm too lazy to type it out) first and absolutely loved the game and when i found out that there's actually another game (made by you) I had to play that one as well so i did and let me just say: I adore the game so much, i romanced Nat (tho i will romance Shay and Qui too) And it's just awesome and the conversation with our family before we go to sleep (the last chapter in demo) and the thing that they are actually supportive of MC's relationship with Nat is so heart warming ♡ And I'm not even talking about the plot and the characters! Honestly Joony is the best best friend (he's also funny)

And i have a little question: I know it takes long to write (and code) the chapters but do you have in mind when will the next chapter come out? Thanks if you answer or just read what i had to say

Hi!! I'm glad you liked merry crisis, and it's always awesome seeing people move from one of my IFs to the other one and enjoy it.

I also love that you like the little bits of family-MC-RO dynamics/support. Sometimes, being home/with family after a rough breakup isn't all bad.

I usually change gears to the other IF once I've gotten an update out (and write them alternately), and over the past 2 years or so I've found that 2 months per update is aspirational (they've gotten to be pretty beefy with branches especially as each story progresses, usually about 60k or so words with code), and I'll try my best not to go too far beyond 3 months per update in 2025 (watch me crash and burn with my ambitions). But yep! As I'm turning my eye to CT:OS after a short break this Jan to focus on my real life work, so I'm hoping to have an update for that out by end Feb, latest early Mar? Which would put the next Merry Crisis out by End-May, hopefully? That's a long answer to your short question :p

That said, merry crisis is wrapping up, at least plot-wise, and the focus will turn to editing, publishing, and visual novel development after about 2 more chapters. I'm not sure how this will affect speed on CT:OS as I've not been this close to publishing before. Exciting, though!

[nowtoboldlygo]

recs for women in translation month: The Blind Earthworm in the Labyrinth by Veeraporn Nitiprapha, translated from the Thai by Kong Rithdee. purple prose surrealist high drama magical little novel, you stole my heart. the translator also included a botanical and playlist annex in the back because he loves me 💜

[yasmeensh]

Paleolithic Media Catalogue

Hello everyone :) Short story first: When I began brainstorming for my prehistoric story, I started wondering what other prehistoric fiction there is out there. I was not familiar with it and have not seen much. That's when I started my grand literature review and began a search for what fiction exist out there. I wanted to know what kinds of stories are being made with this time period. What are the common themes or recurring ideas (I found lots of humans and dinosaurs works. And time travel). Since I've had a growing collection on my computer, I decided I should keep on enlarging it and put it online. It's nowhere near complete. I'll slowly keep accumulating the collection as I find more. I only have fiction books and comics right now. I still need to work on the film section.

You can access the blog here!

***

As for where I am in my reading, the one's I've finished reading are Earth's Children series (book 1-4. Dropped it afterwards lol. I made a post on with fanart) Dance of the Tiger and it's sequel Singletusk (They were good! I'll upload my review on the blog), and Sisters of the Wolf (It was ok!). I got my hands on The Inheritors and excited to start reading it. I REALLY want to read the Shiva trilogy, but I found no PDF online... and it's out of print :( There is certainly old copies on ebay. And I want to read Chronicles of Ancient Darkness. There seem to be lots of good books out there.