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ollie-ollie-oxenfreee · 3 years ago

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then came the morning (aka: the post - canon cuddle fic)

The work in progress is finally done! I’ve been chipping away at it for the past couple weeks now, and it’s gone through many drafts / iterations, but I think I’m finally happy with it. :)

Title from an album by the Lone Bellow.

The first time the two of them “shared a bed” was about as awkward as one might imagine. The initiating circumstances were hardly any better.

The heating apparatus in their quarters had given out a week or so back in a spectacular fit of dust - laden wheezing. The engineering crew called in to inspect it informed them that it couldn’t be fixed until they could pick up the right parts at the nearest trading post (which was naturally thousands of klicks away on the ragged edge of nowhere). With the ambient heat from the nearby engine room seeping through the wall, the conditions were deemed “unpleasant but survivable.” They were issued two extra threadbare blankets and told in tersely formal military - speak to deal with it.

And they’d dealt with it really well for a while! They grit their teeth and carried on like a couple of champs: Harrow, having been thoroughly warned against using her magic too frequently, layering on spare cloaks and sweaters until she almost disappeared under a mountain of black fabric; Gideon curling up close to the engine room wall and wincing when the cold sent spiteful twinges shooting through her still-very-busted knee.

But then one night their grand flagship of the revolution chugged through a particularly empty sprawl of space and began to slow down. The heat from the engine room guttered like a candle flame. Frost spiderwebbed across the thin plex of their window. Harrow’s breath showed in thin wisps of vapor as she huffed, glaring down at the pages of her book like she wanted to reprimand the cold for daring to interrupt her studies.

Gideon had half a mind to encourage her to try (that glare could stop a full - fledged Lyctor in their tracks, who knew what other horrifying powers it possessed?), but thought better of it when she saw the genuine exhaustion in the other girl’s eyes.

“You doing alright over there, my vulturine vicar?” she asked. “I know it takes some time to absorb all that good bone knowledge, but you haven’t turned a page in like half an hour.”

The thunderous look on Harrow’s face darkened further as she set her book aside with an exasperated thump. “This is ridiculous. I studied in the depths of Drearburh for years without any issue, and yet here I am struggling to focus like a novice. It isn’t even that cold.” She bit her lip as a shiver ran through her at the words.

“Evidence seems to suggest otherwise, o mistress of melancholy. Do you want me to go ask that guy in the supply room for another blanket? He still owes me for his son’s fencing lesson.”

Supply room guy didn’t really owe her anything, but she knew that mentioning it would make Harrow feel better. If she could believe that the nice things Gideon did for her were actually for Totally Self - Serving, Debt - Settling reasons, she could accept them without feeling guilty.

(Guilt had haunted Harrow more than ever upon returning to her own body, making it hard to breathe on good days and leaving her shaking with sobs on bad ones.

It was one of those fun little things they had in common.)

From the way Harrow’s shoulders stiffened, though, it seemed that Gideon Nav’s patented Guilt Workaround wasn’t going to be as effective as usual. She shook her head - a stiff little gesture that made her earrings rattle - then sighed.

“No. Thank you, though, it’s kind of you to offer.”

The thank you was sincere, and that was admittedly pretty nice, but all the sincerity in the world wouldn’t change the fact that Harrow was still very obviously shivering. She looked miserable beneath her usual mask of face paint and stoicism. The dark red bead of blood-sweat trailing down her temple indicated that she'd probably tried using some kind of homeostasis theorem, but it wasn't working well enough.

There had to be a solution to this problem somewhere. Harrow's stubborn pride meant that she wouldn't accept help outright - she would sooner set her books on fire than admit what she thought of as a weakness - but if Gideon could play it just right, maybe she wouldn't have to. It would need to be done carefully - too sappy and she'd be uncomfortable, too straightforward and she'd balk. Casual, Gideon decided. Nice and casual was the way to go. It would just be a matter of execution.

"Soooo," she said at length, leaning back against the wall all cool and easy. (She folded her arms up behind her head as an afterthought, appreciating the way it made her still-atrophied-but-getting-there muscles stand out through the thin fabric of her shirt. Confidence boosts were going to be scarce and sorely needed in the conversation to come - she’d take them where she could get them.)

Naturally, Harrow did not appreciate the change in tack or the cool-and-easy-ness. She did, however, manage to muster up a look so steeped in wary disapproval that it cut through her earlier frustration like a hot knife through bone marrow. “So.”

“You sure about that blanket? Because really, it would only take me a second -”

“I’m sure. Thank you.”

“Then, um, did you want to borrow mine?”

Harrow blinked. “You need yours.”

“Yeah, I know! I meant that we could maybe - share. Pool our resources.” She patted the edge of her bunk gamely, then instantly regretted it when Harrow’s eyes narrowed even further.

“You want us to sleep together?”

"No? I mean, technically, but no. In the literal way. Not the other way.” Well maybe the other way sometime if you wanted to but that’s a whole other weird conversation that we probably shouldn't touch with a ten foot pole or we might explode.

"How exactly would that work?" The caution was still heavy in Harrow's voice, but some of the disapproval had ebbed away.

"I mean. We'd probably need to use my bed, since my sheets aren't covered in gross bone gobbets, but you could bring your blankets over and layer 'em over mine and then we'd have twice the blankets! And, you know, body heat. Which has its perks." Even Gideon's cool-and- easy-ness faltered at that, but she bravely soldiered on. "The point is, we'd both be warm."

"And it won't - make things weird?"

"Nope! Not weird. All perfectly chill, my shivering scion."

Harrow paused for a moment, worrying her lip between her teeth. "I'll get ready for bed," she said at last, clipped and decisive. "And I'll think about it."

"Take your time. I'll be here."

Moments later, after the shivering scion had swept grandly out of the room, Gideon's Thinking Brain crashed unceremoniously into her Talking Brain. Things were not, in fact, going to be perfectly chill. There were going to be some logistical problems with this arrangement. Big logistical problems.

Big logistical problems namely revolving around the mutually exclusive facts that the midnight monarch was not especially comfortable with touch, and Gideon Nav, space - bee slayer and resurrected badass, was a sleep cuddler.

Or, well, she was in theory. She didn’t have much (any) “real world” experience to go on, but she’d woken up many, many times back on the Ninth with a bundle of blankets wrapped up in her arms or nestled close to her chest. The habit had never really embarrassed her back then - she actually kind of liked it. She felt warmer and less lonely when she had something to hold, even in the frigid emptiness of her cell.

But that was back then. Things were different in the here - and - now. Harrow was in the here - and - now, and Gideon would never forgive herself if she ruined things with Harrow right when their relationship was on the upswing. They were actually talking, slowly figuring out how to work together again. The furious, tearful intensity between them in the wake of their reunion had calmed and warmed into something almost like real friendship.

After all that had happened - everything that had gone wrong over the past year and a half - they’d found a fragile sort of peace. There was no way in Hell she was going to ruin that peace now.

So while Harrow swished about getting ready for bed, Gideon leveled with herself and laid down some ground rules. Don’t make this weird, Nav. Make sure she’s comfortable, give her her space, and don’t think about cuddling with her.

...even though it would probably be warmer, and she has shitty necro circulation and essentially no body mass so she needs all the warmth she can get, and she gets that kinda soft peaceful look on her face when - no, fuck, see? You’re doing it already. Even if she did like you like that, which she absolutely doesn’t because she’s got a good old-fashioned frostbite girl back home, that’s not what you’re here for. You’re her cav. Her sworn sword. You’re here to do your job and make sure she doesn’t get her thumbs bitten off again. That’s it.

“You’re staring.”

Harrow’s voice cut sharp as a bone shard through Gideon’s nervous thought - spiral. Having apparently completed her grim evening rituals, she’d settled lightly on the far edge of the to - be - shared bed, countless dark layers poofing out around her like the feathers of a posturing crow. Her face was flecked with dots of gray from scrubbing off her paint, and her short hair stuck up in messy licks of black fluff despite her increasingly irritated attempts to smooth it flat.

It shouldn’t have been endearing. It really, really shouldn’t have.

It was.

Gideon was so screwed.

“Shit,” she muttered, scrubbing a hand over her face to ground herself. She glanced over to meet Harrow’s eyes (and wow, was that a mistake, they were as mesmerizing a swirl of black and gold as ever), then forced a smile like she wasn’t screaming internally. “Sorry. Zoned out a little. You good to go?”

The wryly exasperated glint in Harrow’s eyes made them glow even brighter in the dim light. “Yes, I’m ‘good to go,’ thank you. Are you, though? You look … troubled.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. Think nice, normal thoughts. Don’t let her know. She cannot know.

“I’m always good, my chthonic countess,” she lied, smooth as could be, throwing in a roguish wink for good measure. That was distractingly stupid enough, it was bound to work.

Harrow frowned. “Why are you blinking like that?”

The roguish wink apparently had not worked.

“No reason! Just dust. In my eye. Lots of very rude dust landing right in my eye. Anyway. How are we doing this?”

A flicker of genuine, anxious concern ghosted over Harrow’s face as her frown deepened.

“Gideon,” she began, in that slow, reluctant way of hers that heralded Incoming Indignity. “I know that you were the one to suggest this, but I want to impress upon you that if you aren’t - certain about it, there is another possible solution.”

She cast around the room for a moment and reached for a massive, dusty tome at the top of a nearby stack, flipping determinedly through the pages. “I've had the idea for some time, but I only just managed to convince our commanding officer that I could use theorems 'responsibly' without their constant supervision, so I haven't been able to test it until now. Small - scale thanergetic fission reactions produce sparks of flame that, if handled extremely carefully, could give off enough heat - "

“Wait.” Gideon held up a hand, her own anxious brain jolting back online at the word flame. “Wait, wait, wait. Harrow. Seriously? The concern is sweet, don’t get me wrong, but your other solution is death - fire?”

“I said that it was a possibility,” she snapped back, that old brittle defensiveness calcifying over the vulnerability in her voice. Her posture straightened with a great rustling of robes: shoulders back, chin high, eyes gleaming with disdainful pride as the bones scattered about their room twitched to life. Looking for all the world like she had when they were ten - twelve - fourteen - sixteen, bitter and vicious and spoiling for a fight.

She seemed to realize it right when Gideon did. Her eyes widened, then closed. The bowstring tension in her shoulders slowly ebbed away as her half - formed constructs clattered to the floor. “Sorry,” she said at last, her voice a threadbare murmur. “I’m sorry. That was - uncalled for.”

“It’s a reflex. I get it.” And she did - she’d done the same thing countless times, had a hand on her sword and a barbed insult on her tongue without even thinking about it.

Another one of those fucked up things they had in common.

An uneasy silence settled between them, broken only by the rumbling hum of the engines, the thud of footsteps in the hall.

“I meant it, you know,” Harrow said, after a long moment. “About other options. It was a half - baked and immature attempt, but I wanted to give you an out if you were uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, I know, my sepulchral sage. I appreciate it. Half - baked immaturity and all.” She bumped her shoulder gently against Harrow’s, then flopped back on the bunk to stare up at the low ceiling. “Are we, like, committing to honesty hour tonight? How deep into feelings do you want to get?”

“As deep as is comfortable.”

“That’s what she said.”

“It’s a reasonable thing for her to say.”

Another hush fell over them, marginally more comfortable than the last, as Gideon worried her lip between her teeth and counted the cracks in the ceiling above her. There were nine of them in total. Go fucking figure.

A bony finger poked her in the side after a few cycles of counting. “Were you going to elaborate, or was that all just a set - up for one of your charming jokes?”

“I can’t believe it took you eighteen years to finally admit that they’re charming, but no, that’s not why I said it. I’ll lay bare my tender squishy heart for you, penumbral lady. Because you asked so nicely.”

Because I think you might already have it.

No avoiding it now. Might as well bite the bullet and dive in.

“I was on board with the cuddle thing from the beginning, but I felt like you wouldn’t be, and I panicked. You probably already knew that because you’re way more creepily observant than you have any right to be, but there it is. Out in the open.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could just run away and hide from the other girl’s piercing gaze. “I just don’t want to fuck things up with you, Harrow. I feel like we’ve got a kind of good thing going now. You haven’t called me a useless halfwit in forever, and I haven’t called you a heinous bitch in forever, and I haven’t wanted to. That’s unheard of for us. I don’t want it to go away.”

Her voice cracked, and the most damning words burst forth like flowers through concrete: “I don’t want to give you a reason to shut me out again.”

The memories of those nine months flashed in fragmented mosaic through her mind - the slick stone walls of the well, the freezing churn of the water, the burn in her muscles as she desperately thrashed up toward the surface and reached for someone who didn’t even know she was there. The gut - wrenching loneliness that defined her entire fucking life coalescing in that pit of brackish darkness. The chant rattling on loop in her mind as the water pulled her under: Harrow, what happened, what did you do, why the fuck did you leave me here, I had a purpose, I threw myself on that goddamned rail for a reason, was that not enough for you?

Was I not enough for you?

A cool, fine - boned hand laced with hers and squeezed, just once. The memories blurred.

“Gideon,” the voice that had haunted her all that time said. “You know - you have to know that isn’t why I did it.”

“Why did you, then?”

A tiny hitch of breath. A soft, almost incredulous laugh. Then:

“Because I loved you.”

The words hung heavy in the frozen air.

“You - what?”

“I loved you.” She said it so simply. Like it was something she’d come to terms with long ago. “I loved you beyond reason, and for once in my life I wanted to do right by you and keep you safe as you did me. The motivation doesn’t justify a moment of it, I won’t pretend it does, and I can’t even begin to erase the hurt it caused you. But I need you to understand that it was never because of something you did wrong. You are good, darling. Good to the core. You always have been.”

Bright spots bloomed before Gideon’s eyes as her reeling mind fought to catch up. Three thoughts sprang unbidden to the forefront:

Mmf.

And: Darling?

And:

“Loved. You said ‘loved.’ Why the past tense?”

She sat there, staring blankly up at the ceiling, half - expecting a don’t be presumptuous, Griddle or something even remotely normal, at least. What she got instead was another laugh, halting and shaky and suddenly deeply bitter. The hand in hers went rigid and drew away.

“I came to my senses. I remembered the countless awful things I’ve done. Saw myself for the leech that I am. I’ve taken and taken and taken from you, over and over again, torn away at your life like a scavenger, I can’t steal anything more - “

“Who said anything about stealing?”

For the first time since the grand awkward commencement of honesty hour Gideon felt a genuine smile bloom across her face. “Come on, Nonagesimus, give me some credit. You honestly think I would have stuck around this long if I didn’t know what I was giving you? If I wasn’t getting something out of it too?”

“What could you possibly be getting out of it?”

“You. I like you. Like, a lot. More than I ever thought I would. And I know the brain weasels are going to start yammering about how that’s impossible, and you don't deserve it, and we've still got a mountain of baggage left to work through, but I’ve thought about it a lot and I really mean it. Having you with me has made this whole shitty thing infinitely less shitty."

With a surge of sudden bravery and dizzy emotion, she reached out to take Harrow's hand again and, giving her ample time to pull away, pressed a feather - light kiss to the back. “If you want me here too, sunshine - as your cav or your friend or something else - then I'm not going anywhere."

Harrow closed her eyes, took a deep shuddering breath, and - smiled. A real one, slow and hesitantly sweet, lighting up her careworn face. "I need to think about it - we both should think about it. But I do want you here, in whatever way you want to be."

"Yeah? Cool."

"Cool."

Silence settled upon them for the third time that night, but this time it was different. It was soft and tentative, fragile and new, like budding grave - flowers reaching for the sun. First flowers, the both of them, clawing up out of the grit and finding a way to bloom.

"Should we go to sleep now?" Harrow asked at last, her rasping voice low and quiet. "It's getting late."

"We probably should. Cam and Pal are gonna kill us if we're not up by 6:00 tomorrow. Are you still up for this, though? Like, the whole 'two girls, chilling in a military bunk, zero feet apart 'cause they're freezing and also maybe like each other' thing?"

"Yes. On one condition."

"Anything."

"This might be difficult for you."

"Seriously, Harrow, just tell me. Name it and it's done."

"No sex jokes."

She heaved a sigh, mock - exasperated and so stupidly fond. "As you wish, my dearest darling death omen. As you wish."

It took a while to get comfortable - with Harrow's knobby elbows jabbing Gideon in the stomach, Gideon's clunky knee brace getting tangled in the sheets, the blankets collectively giving up and puddling on the floor at least ten times - but eventually, like everything else, they made it work. They fumbled through the sleep - cuddling confession with an admirable lack of panic on both sides, culminating in a firm agreement that they would let each other know the moment they were at all uncomfortable and an "I trust you" from Harrow so pure in its sincerity that it would be ringing through Gideon's mind for at least a myriad.

Harrow was the first to fall asleep, curled up tight in a cocoon of black fabric, the dark crown of her head just barely brushing the sunburst scar on Gideon's chest. Her shallow breaths fell into an even, steady rhythm, interspersed with whistling snores that Gideon was definitely going to tease her about when her heart was less of a melted puddle of goo.

The minutes slipped by warm and slow as drops of honey as her own eyes grew heavier, fluttering closed. She gave her necromancer - her Lyctor - her beautiful baneful bone empress one last sleepy smile, and drifted off.

(When Camilla went to shake her sparring partner awake the next morning, she found the two of them still sound asleep, wrapped up in each other's arms and looking more peaceful than she'd ever seen them. She huffed a laugh, muttered "finally," and let them be.)

#the locked tomb #tlt #locked tomb trilogy #griddlehark #angst and fluff and love confessions oh my!#the girls are trying to do right by each other and it's a bit of struggle but they're figuring it out

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actuallybarb · 4 years ago

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The Aftermath ~ Part 7

Summary: y/n goes to therapy, is a confirmed hoodie stealer, and gets a pep talk from sam wilson and wanda maximoff

Pairing: peter parker x reader

Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, trauma, me attempting to write a therapy session

Word Count: 3850

A/N: so many things. 1) i’ve never been to therapy (even tho i desperately need it) so i’m solely basing that off of Freaky Friday with Lindsay Lohan. 2) i live for sleepy tropes and i hella indulged. 3) sorry not sorry

//////////

“Your projects are due next Monday. Have one partner email me who your group is working with, and no, Mr. Thompson, you can’t work with students from other periods. Class dismissed.”

“Want to work together?”

We had been going to class together for a month now, but it always seemed like Peter was surprised whenever he saw me sitting next to him. Maybe it wasn’t surprise...

“Yeah. When do you want to work on it?” I shoved my notes into my already disorderly backpack and slung it over my shoulders. It was starting to get colder in New York, but I was still wearing t-shirts and shorts (mostly because I could keep myself warm and also because I’m stubborn as hell).

“Thursday? Or do you want to start sooner than that?”

“No, I can do Thursday. Are you going to the compound this weekend?” It wasn’t more than a whisper, but I still checked who was around before asking. You can never be too careful.

“Yeah, May’s driving me up after school on Friday. Want a ride?”

I smiled. “That’d be nice.” People were slowly making their way out of the building to head home for the day, but I was heading to Manhattan.

“You going home?”

“No, I’m seeing my shrink. I’ll see you tomorrow, Peter.”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow, Y/N.” He turned right, I turned left, and I might have turned around and glanced back at him over my shoulder, just for a second.

But so did he.

/////////

Taylor’s office had a billion plants and as many windows in it. She always had a candle burning that smelled like clean laundry, and she liked to talk first whenever we met up. That’s why I liked her so much.

“Remember my crazy neighbor’s dog?” She was watering one of her plants when I walked in. “Guess who I accidentally ran over?”

“You ran over a dog?” I left my backpack by the door and grabbed my own watering can.

“No, not the dog. I ran over my neighbor while he was chasing after the dog.”

I laughed. “Like that’s much better.”

“Running over a dog is unforgivable, Y/N. A person is understandable.” We finished watering the plants then sat down at the huge floor-to-ceiling window that took up her back wall. Another reason I liked Taylor: I actually do stuff while I’m talking with her. It’s not like I’m sitting on a couch staring at her while I talk about my feelings, we’re on equal ground. The last couple visits I’ve worked on painting New York, but I haven’t made much progress because I’m a shit painter. “That’s not the point,” Taylor would say, “it’s all about going with it. Be a shit painter. Own it.” Yeah, we get along great.

“No more panic attacks since the first day.”

“Yeah? That’s great.” Unlike me, Taylor is a phenomenal painter. Her skyline had identifiable buildings. Mine had — I think one looks more like a tree than a building. (That’s one huge tree.) “Any nightmares?”

Oh. We’re going there today. “Just on bad days.”

“How often are the bad days?”

After the Blip and before Europe, my bad days went from every day to maybe once a week. Then Europe fucked me over. Now? I don’t know. “Whenever they feel like it.”

“C’mon, Y/N, you can do better than that.”

I rolled my eyes and groaned. “It’s not like it’s a cycle, like the moon or a period or our meetings. It’s sporadic, Taylor, and fucking exhausting.”

“Why? Why are the bad days so exhausting?”

I may or may not have angrily made a bird smash against a window in my painting. “Because I’m the only one who knows. Mom guesses, most of the time, but it’s like she’s still dancing around me. Dad sees it when he’s home, but he doesn’t know what to do. And—“ I almost said ‘and Peter.’ That would’ve been awkward. “And my friends make it better, but they’ve got their own shit to deal with, and I don’t want to dump any of my problems on them. And I know you’re going to say ‘Internalizing your pain is bad, Y/N,’ but it’s the only solution I can handle right now until I muster up the courage to actually talk to my mom again. I mean, last time I needed Jess by my side, how the hell am I going to handle it without her?”

“For starters, I’m proud of you for acknowledging the way to address the problem. And secondly, you don’t have to do it by yourself. I’ve actually been wanting to have another session with your parents, and now seems like as good of a time as any. Bring them around for your next session, and we’ll talk to them, together, about how you can get through bad days with their help. Okay?”

My lips quirked up, just a smidge. “Okay.”

“Now let’s talk about King T’Challa’s new suit, you can’t pretend you don’t have an opinion on it...”

///////

It was a bad day.

Which sucked, because it was also Thursday, and Peter was supposed to be over in half an hour to work on our project. And I was a mess.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Mom called from the living room. Her elementary school got out twenty minutes before Midtown, so she usually beat me home. “How was school?”

“It’s a bad day,” was all I said before I closed the door to my room. I didn’t slam it (not anymore) but I didn’t know anything else. I couldn’t tell if I wanted a nap, I couldn’t tell if I wanted to curl up in a ball and cry, I couldn’t tell if I wanted to fly from rooftop to rooftop until I was too exhausted to come home; I didn’t know. Which sucked, because I’m the only one who could’ve told me the answer.

The was a light knock on my door. “Can I come in?” I didn’t respond, so Mom walked in. “Mind me asking why today was bad?” I still didn’t say anything, my face buried in my pillow. She sat at the edge of my bed, near my knees. “I can usually tell, you know.” It was a hushed voice that came out of her mouth - nothing like the loud and loving woman I’ve known almost my whole life. “You do a good job of trying to cover it up, but I can tell. Your shoulders are tenser than usual, and your eyebrows are crinkled together the second you step out of your room.” She sighed and put a hand on my back - her hands are always warm and usually smell like hand sanitizer from Bath and Body Works because she refuses to use the government-issued ones at school. “You dad and I have no idea what you went through while we were gone. We have no idea what you went through in Europe. But we’re here for you now, Y/N. You carry this weight around with you, and I just — I want you to know that you have people to share it with. Maybe not the weight itself, but the pain it’s causing you.” She removed her hand and set both of them in her lap. “I don’t know how to make the bad days better, so I need you to tell me when you’re ready. I’m here for you, baby.” She leaned down and kissed my head, then stood up and started walking toward the door.

When her hand was on the knob, I finally spoke up. “Thank you.” It was barely a grumble, but she heard it.

The door closed quietly, and I finally decided what I wanted to do.

Cry. I cried. For at least twenty minutes. I cried because of my abilities, I cried because I lost Jess as a mom, I cried because I went to Europe, I cried because Quentin Beck was an asshole that fucked up my mental state for probably the rest of my life, I cried because I killed a lot of people, I cried because now I was friends with Peter but at what cost?

He showed up, eventually. I heard him knock on the front door as I blew my nose. Mom, bless her soul, kept him distracted until I came out of my room myself. It took me another twenty minutes to finally convince myself to leave my room, and at that point I was too exhausted to keep myself warm anymore, so the cold breeze blowing through New York hit me in full force. I slipped a hoodie on, grabbed my backpack, and took a deep breath before opening the door.

Peter was sitting at the counter while Mom washed the dishes from breakfast this morning. She was back to talking loud, and he was listening with a smile on his face. My door closed and his eyes immediately darted to me. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Hey, Pete. Is it okay if we’re in the living room?”

Mom glanced between the two of us and tried to hide her little smile, but at least one of us caught it. “Yeah, of course. I’ll be in the office if you need anything.”

He must’ve noticed my bloodshot eyes; he couldn’t stop staring. “Is that my hoodie?”

Shit. Is it? I glanced down at the Midtown Tech logo and remembered getting drenched at the compound after the sprinklers unexpectedly came on. Then Peter gave me his hoodie. “Shit, yeah, it is.” I pulled on the sleeves to take it off, but he shook his head.

“Don’t worry about it, I have at least two more at home.” He pulled out his laptop and it was suddenly back to business. “Any ideas how we’re going to do this?”

We bounced ideas off of each other until we came to a rough draft, but it was getting later, and bad days always get worse at night.

“Shit, is it ten already?” Peter started gathering his things and stuffing them in his bag. “I told May I’d be home by ten, I hate being late.”

I pulled out my phone and sent May a quick text; we’ve had each other’s numbers since my first weekend at the compound. We lost track of time, he’s heading home now.

I figured. See you tomorrow :)

Peter stood up and started walking toward the door, and I followed him. I had spoken maybe twenty sentences the whole time (it’s a miracle we got this far in the project) but I couldn’t convince myself to say anything else before he left. And I wanted to. But I also wanted to cave in on myself — and we both know which option was winning that battle.

“Do you need a hug?” He basically had one foot out the door, but he turned around and asked me this.

“What?”

“Your heartbeat — it’s been off all day. And it still is right now, and — Do you need a hug?”

God, he was perfect. And I was so gone.

All I needed all day was a goddamn hug, and now he’s offering one, and tears started brimming in my eyes before I could even nod yes. He was so warm, and his voice flitted around in his chest, and I would’ve felt bad about getting tears on his shirt, except I didn’t care anymore. All I cared about was how the weight on my shoulders lifted when Peter Parker’s arms were wrapped around them.

“Are you going to be okay?” he mumbled in my hair. I only nodded again. “Okay.” He slowly loosened his grip, but not before he left a quick kiss on my head. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Another nod. “See you tomorrow.”

///////

Peter was going crazy. Since we hadn’t found any footage that could clear Spider-Man’s name without incriminating Peter he wasn’t allowed out as his alter-ego. And he was literally climbing the walls of the compound.

I was blowing gusts of air at him, trying to knock him down from the ceiling. We had officially finished our project only twenty minutes before, so I pulled up the EDITH footage from London, trying to think of how to clear Spider-Man’s name.

And then it hit me.

“Oh my god.” I ran to the computer and started typing away furiously. “I think I figured it out.”

He came back to the ground. “Figured what out?”

“We can just use the audio file from the video. Then your face doesn’t have to be in it at all.”

I found the file and played it over the speakers.

“EDITH! Turn off the drones.”

“Should I execute all cancellation protocols?”

“Yes, execute them all.”

It was perfect. Exactly what we needed.

“Peter.” I turned to him with a huge smile on my face. “This can save Spider-Man.”

“This can save Spider-Man,” he repeated. “Shit, Y/N, you just saved Spider-Man.” He wrapped his arms around me tightly and lifted me in the air, his laugh ringing in my ear. “I can still be Spider-Man!”

I laughed along with him. He set me down after a minute, but we were still standing unbelievably close together. One minuscule step forward and my lips would be on his. His heart beat jumped, and so did mine, but he didn’t pull away. Neither of us pulled away.

His tilted his head and kissed my cheek (which I still freaked out over) and then took a step back.

“We have to call Pepper and tell her.”

“Yeah, yeah.” FRIDAY started the call and Pepper was over the moon.

“We’ll get a press conference set up for tomorrow, and I’ll work on a statement. Peter,” this was the sternest I had ever heard her - even more serious than when she was talking to Morgan, “I know this is all good news, but you have to wait to be Spider-Man still. All of this press has to die down first before you can go out in the open again, okay?”

“Yes, Mrs. Potts.”

“Okay. I’ll see you two bright and early tomorrow.”

She hung up and Peter hugged me again. This one was way more subdued than the last one. “Thank you, Y/N,” he mumbled into my neck.

“You’re welcome, Pete.”

//////////

The press conference went well, according to Rhodey. “I think most of them were relieved to know Spider-Man’s not actually a murderer.” Everyone was dying to have Spider-Man come out and answer questions, but Pepper insisted no questions were being taken at that time, or ever.

MJ called Peter after the press conference was released to the public, and they talked for what felt like forever. The second he got the call I went to the training room: to distract myself or actually train, well, it doesn’t matter because both were done.

A simulation droid was about to “kill” me, but red magic tore it apart at the last second.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. Are you okay?”

I shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because Peter’s been talking on the phone for the same time you’ve been in here.” Wanda gave me a knowing look. You forget that she can read minds because she’s not invasive about it, but she’s always there, holding the information to either back you up or tear you down.

I sighed. “He’s talking to MJ. And I know there’s a high possibility that they’ll get back together but a part of me is hoping they won’t.”

“So you can be with him instead.” I gave a small nod. “Don’t give up yet, Y/N. I see the way he looks at you. You might have more of a chance than you think.”

“She’s right, kid.”

I jumped in surprise. “How long have you been listening?”

Sam smiled from the observation deck of the training room. “Long enough. Boys are stupid, they need all the help they can get.”

“I’ve given him plenty of help already. Literally.”

“Haha, very funny.” He rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean. If it doesn’t work out with MJ, shoot your shot. I have a feeling you won’t be disappointed.” He winked before leaving, and Wanda followed suit.

I rolled my eyes before telling FRIDAY to pick another random simulation. “Make it a good one.” And, boy, did she. It was the hardest one yet, and all of my concentration was going into it. I was so focused I didn’t even notice Peter walk in until after I had won.

“Damn.”

I turned quickly to see him standing near the door, his hands in his pockets. “Hey. How’d it go?”

“It was okay. She saw the news.”

“But…”

“But it’s not happening. I-“ he looked down at the ground, “I can’t trust her. Not when she lost trust in me. And I- I think I’m interested in someone else.”

I nodded along. I tried to keep my heart as normal as possible but it was beating too hard from my adrenaline to be controllable; I’m almost positive Peter heard it jump at the news. “That’s understandable. Who’s the, uh, the someone else?” God, please be me.

Peter’s lips twitched up to a small smile. “You’ll find out eventually.” He stepped further into the room and relaxed a bit. “Want to do a round together?”

I wanted to. I really wanted to. But I was exhausted, and I think I pulled a muscle, and I could already feel bruises forming where I ungracefully fell on my side. So I just shook my head. “Some other time.”

My room had a bathroom attached to it, and that’s where I spent the next half hour, standing under the blazing hot water coming from the shower. Once I convinced myself to actually get out and change into pajamas, I grabbed my laptop and climbed into bed. I was going home tomorrow, I deserved a few hours of shuteye.

Then someone knocked on my door and ruined the whole ambiance.

“Oh, you’re - I was just - I’ll just go.”

“No, Peter, what’s up?”

He was standing there, hair damp from the shower, black t-shirt and flannel pajama pants on, looking hot as ever. “I was going to ask if you wanted to watch a movie, but you’re already in bed, so never mind.” He turned to walk away, and I almost let him because I was on-my-ass exhausted, but I didn’t. I couldn’t, not when he looked like that (soft, but also hot as fuck).

“Come on.” He turned, and I opened the door wider. “I was about to watch Gilmore Girls, but we can watch a movie if you want.” I pulled back the covers and left plenty of room for Peter to sit beside me.

“We can watch Gilmore Girls, I don’t mind.”

The second I pressed ‘play’ on the third episode was the second my eyes could barely stay open any longer. I tried so hard to watch Jess win Rory back, but sleep caught up with me and I let it win. I used Peter’s shoulder as a pillow and decided sleep was a battle I didn’t mind losing.

////////

I woke up to my alarm, but as quickly as my eyes opened, Peter’s arm pulled me closer to him. I was too tired to feel embarrassed or excited about the fact that Peter Parker was in my bed with an arm wrapped around me. All I wanted to was to turn off my alarm and go back to bed, but my dad was picking me and Peter up in two hours and I wanted to bully Sam into making me pancakes again.

“Let go, Peter,” I ended up mumbling, “I have to turn the alarm off.” He moved his arm off and I sat up and grabbed my phone. “I’m getting breakfast.”

It must’ve been my lucky day, because Sam and Bucky were in the kitchen. “‘Morning, sunshine. Sleep okay?” I looked at Sam with a hard glare, and he laughed. Of course he knew Peter was with me, FRIDAY knows everything.

I sat next to Bucky and thought of fluffy pancakes to ward off my burning hatred for Captain America. “Sam, how much do you love me?”

“Depends on what you’re willing to give me in exchange for the pancakes.”

Of course he already knew my move. Typical.

“I’ll delete half of the embarrassing footage of you saved in FRIDAY’s hard-drive.”

Sam looked at Bucky suddenly, extremely confused. “I thought that was done months ago.”

He just shrugged and drank his coffee. “Must not’ve gone deep enough. Good thing Y/N is here to catch it.”

Sam glanced between the two of us and sighed. “Okay, fine, I’ll make you some stupid pancakes.”

I smiled, then Bucky slipped me ten dollars under the counter and whispered, “Save me the footage.” I winked back.

“Can I have some too?” Peter, soft as hell, came into the kitchen and sat beside me. (His knee was brushing up against mine.)

“Only if you have something to offer.” Sam liked us, I know he did (that’s part of the embarrassing footage FRIDAY has saved) but he was usually a dick to us - anyone who wasn’t Bucky (and even then) - in the morning. It was always playful banter, but we knew not to step too far before eleven o’clock.

“I promise not to test out my new long-lasting webs on anything you own.”

“Deal.”

The pancakes were delicious (“hell yeah they were, I don’t mess around with pancakes”) but my dad was at the compound before we knew it, and it was time to face reality again.

“I saw the press conference,” Dad said when we sat down in the back, “and everything was very convincing. Congrats on getting to be Spider-Man again, Peter.”

He beamed. “Thanks, Mr. Y/L/N. Anything exciting happen at the hospital recently?”

They talked medical, while I sat back and listened to the engine. It covered up their hearts, but that didn’t matter, because both would’ve sent me right back to sleep. And it did.

We pulled up to Peter’s complex an hour and a half later. There were still plenty of daylight hours left, but we both left more homework to today than we would like to admit and neither of our parental figures would be pleased with that.

“See you tomorrow,” he said with a smile.

I smiled back, genuinely, (I was giving those out way more often now) and waved. “Bye.” Dad and I drove back and walked up to the apartment bumping shoulders. Our schedules didn’t line up very often because he was needed in the ER a lot of the time, but we always had a sort of silent understanding. He unlocked the door and let me in first, but when my eyes landed on the kitchen table, I stopped mid-step.

Blood. Everywhere. On the walls, on the floor, on Mom’s floral couch she claimed “added personality” to the living room. No one else was in the apartment, I could tell, but then it just raised more questions:

Who’s blood is everywhere?

Where the hell is Mom?

tags: @eridanuswave @vampirestrawberries

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker series #peter parker oneshot #marvel #marvel comics #reader insert #peter parker x mj #ned leeds #michelle jones #flash thompson #spiderman far from home #mcu #spiderman #avengers

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natsubeatsrock · 4 years ago

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What Mashima Could Have Done To Improve Nalu (And What He Should Do With Nalu Now)

What could Mashima have done to make Nalu work for someone like me?

Wait, this isn't the rewrite...

I've wanted to make this post for a while. More accurately, I've wanted to make a post about this topic for years. Recently, I've gone through several different drafts of this post with drastically different types of approaches to this topic. However, I feel like this is the right direction to go about this topic.

Obviously, the vast majority of fans like this ship already and are counting the proverbial days until it becomes canon. But I know I'm not the only one who thinks the ship could have made more sense. And, it doesn't seem like Mashima isn't against playing around with the idea of this ship. (I'm not talking about specific spoilers here.)

So, I've decided to point out a few different ways Mashima could have worked Nalu into a better sense of becoming canon through the course of the original series. These are based on what I've heard regarding Nalu on both sides. Near the end, I'll include my suggestion for the best possible route Mashima could take regarding Nalu, especially at this point in the sequel.

Change #1: Natsu Leaving at Chapter 416

Let's get this one out of the way now. The big thing that turned me off to Nalu is how Natsu left at the end of the Tartarus arc, and I know I'm not alone in this. There are two camps of logic about why this is bad. Most people are in the Lucy camp which focuses on Lucy's broken bond with her friend. I'm more in the Natsu camp and focus on how his leaving betrays his ultimate goal of protecting his friends. Either way, Mashima didn't do much to make people who didn't already love the ship like it.

I don't think the argument should be made that Natsu shouldn't have left. He needed to leave to get stronger and if the guild was going to break up, their splitting up was inevitable. There are ways that Mashima could have handled Natsu leaving Lucy that aren't "write her a letter and leave". Given their relationship, he absolutely should have told her to her face that he had to leave and why. That's just a matter of being a good friend.

That's another reason I feel like it's important to start here. Mashima could work to further their relationship from a friendship to a romantic one. However, if their friendship is strained, there's no reason to start that in the first place. With that out of the way, let's talk about how Mashima could have made their relationship more romantic.

Change #2: Clearly Change their View of Each Other

It's not as if Natsu and Lucy's views of each other were consistently positive. It's weird to see that Natsu was dismissive and kind of exploitative was of Lucy early on in Fairy Tail. Of course, this changes throughout the series. Natsu and Lucy come to have a really cool friendship and one of my favorite partnerships in anime and manga.

However, there's no moment where Natsu or Lucy comes to a definite "Oh, I love them" realization. While the other ships in the Big 4 have at least one moment you can point to where the perception of a character towards the other noticeably changed, Nalu doesn't have that. The idea that they could be a couple is brought up every now and then. However, it's always treated as a joke and dismissed almost as quickly as it's brought up. If Mashima were to take Nalu seriously, this kind of moment would be crucial to their progression from great friendship to definite romance.

It's not even as if this couldn't happen. I've seen Nalu fans point to a few different places as possible moments for this to happen. However, my personal favorite moments happen during the Tenrou Island arc. At the beginning of the arc, Lucy looks at Natsu as he's sleeping and mentions how cute he looks. Later on, Natsu sees Lucy struggle against Kain and hears her say "It's more fun when we're together". I think both moments could have been reworked to start them on the trend of starting a romantic relationship with each other.

Change #3: Define Natsu and Lisanna's Relationship As Platonic

Depending on who you ask, we already got this during Tenrou Island. After all, Lisanna told Lucy to take care of Natsu before they went to fight Hades. A lot of people see this as the sign that Lisanna gave up on being with Natsu romantically. (If you can't tell, I'm restraining myself from arguing against this.) Mashima could have made this purpose of the moment more obvious.

Regardless, we didn't get a similar moment where Natsu and Lisanna realize their relationship has changed since Edolas and can't currently be romantic. All we got is a moment that might indicate that Lisanna thinks Lucy is a better romantic fit for Natsu. As someone who's been advocating for more of Lisanna, this change could lead to some interesting moments. Lisanna doesn't have problems with either Natsu or Lucy that would result in any ill will between them. I don't think that should change regardless of how feelings are written regarding Lisanna and the duo.

[insert discussion about Mashima's comment in France here]

Change #4: Give Us A Real Confession

I've said this plenty of times already. We did not get a confession from Natsu at the end of Fairy Tail. The fact that people are arguing that a straight-up confession would be "out of character" for Natsu and Lucy is proof enough of that. If Nalu was meant to be, this would be an obvious inclusion.

Opinions are all over the place regarding how that ought to play out. Should Natsu confess first or should Lucy? Will their confession be more composed or frenetic? That's not so much of my concern. What matters most is that a confession actually happens for the reader to see.

Honestly, it's a shame that so many different romantic ships can get away with happening without seeing definite romantic confessions, especially in battle action shonen series. I've gone through 11 years of nonsense with these characters. If they end up a couple, I want to see the confession, at the very least.

And those are my suggestions for changes.

You'll notice that I haven't talked about romantic progression in this post. That should be obvious when talking about this kind of thing. I think it's hard not to write characters falling in love if you know you're building to a couple being romantic. Fans are more likely to see it in places it isn't happening. Mashima has proven himself capable of writing good romance time and again in both of his big running series. Of course, we're waiting to see if he'll do it again with Edens Zero.

Though, these are changes that would have to take place regarding the original series. If Mashima wanted to do any of these things, it would be too late to properly do them. With that in mind, here's what I think is the best thing Mashima could do with Nalu, especially at this particular time in the sequel.

Destroy Its Chances.

No, seriously.

To be clear, I'm not advocating for Mashima to give us less ship tease fakeouts or meaningless rejections. I'm not asking that he simply not make Nalu canon. I seriously wish that Mashima would make explicitly clear that Natsu and Lucy cannot and will not ever enter a romantic relationship with each other. I simultaneously wish he would stop playing with the idea that they may start one in stuff outside of canon, like Twitter sketches, omakes, and spin-offs.

I've had a lot of time to sit with Nalu as a possible ship. I've thought over and over about what's wrong with it. And I can't think of anything fundamentally wrong with Nalu. The worst thing about it is the nonexistent progression from friends to lovers and Natsu leaving in chapter 416. I'd add fanservice, but pretty much every Fairy Tail ship has egregious fan service moments.

When people talk about Nalu not being a good ship, there are worse things they could be talking about. They could talk about how one person is clearly pushing for a relationship the other isn't interested in. They could talk about how their relationship started off with one brutalizing the other. They could talk about how Nalu is incestuous or pedophilic. However, when we talk about the ships in Fairy Tail, these topics don't come up regarding Nalu.

Like, people don't like Gruvia because of the dynamic between them. For people to like that ship, you'd basically have to rewrite their dynamic entirely. I know someone who would only make Gruvia canon in its current state if it were an abusive relationship. My suggestions for Nalu don't even change that much about their relationship.

The real issues I have with the ship stem from the fandom itself. The Nalu fandom considers any and all moments that involve Natsu and Lucy as a sign that they can become a couple soon. This ranges from "understandable arguments regarding certain scenes in canon" to "irrational interpretations regarding Twitter sketches". All of it's treated with the same cavalier attitude of Nalu's impending canonization. This is all despite no confession, no indication of romance on either side, and an omake literally made to dissuade people from this idea.

I can't say that Mashima will never make Nalu canon. But if he plans not to make it canon, I want it to be clear that Nalu is never going to be a thing. Leave no sense of ambiguity for readers to argue that it might happen in the future after the series ends. When I read the last chapter of the sequel, I want Nalu's prospects to end with the series.

"But what about the fans who spent years following the series hoping for the ship to happen?"

What about them?

I'm not saying this as someone who has no interest in the ship or empathy for its fans. I could and probably should, especially given the stuff I've seen happen over the years. But I'm not. (People can just as easily point to any of the various extreme Nalu haters like... a certain someone.) No, I have no patience for this view considering another perspective I hold.

I came into the fandom enjoying Fairy Tail. I started this blog because I wanted to talk about the things I liked about it and places I disagreed with fans about it. As time passed, I started to like the series less and see more issues with it. Many of the things I came to like about the series started to annoy me more and talking about this series became more of a chore than anything else.

However, I came to have a renewed sense of love for the series as I revisited it. I found new things to like about it and reconfirmed my enjoyment of the things that previously annoyed me. Consider the ship I talk the most about positively on this blog is likely not going to be canon officially. I'm still here and I still love the series.

I find it hard to believe that fans can come this far into the series only because they want to see their ship happen. I get that this sentiment is popular to hear fans say. However, I can't believe that all those people are so deeply invested in Nalu being canon, as opposed to other aspects of the series, that the series would be ruined for them if it didn't happen.

This is a series that's almost a decade and a half old. We've had more spin-offs, omakes, and tie-ins than series many times more popular than Fairy Tail have received. We just got an anime game that actually isn't just another arena fighter and a sequel has been greenlit. There has to be SOMETHING that these people can come back to and appreciate about this series OTHER than Nalu.

And if there really is nothing they can come to like about this series than Nalu? If they really come to hate the series over their ship not happening? If we really see a fan meltdown over the ship not happening, then...

Good riddance to them!

I know plenty of fans who bowed out of the series after realizing the series wasn't great. I'm still following a few of them for other stuff. Almost every one of them came to the conclusion long ago that the series wasn't as great as they'd like it to be and moved onto other things that interested them. They handled it calmly and left the fandom without a ton of drama. A couple of them even drop in to make new fan content every now and then.

I can respect a perspective that acknowledges a series isn’t doing what you want it to do and decides to engage with only the elements that matter most to an individual. I can respect a similar perspective that decides to cut ties with a series or fandom over how canon plays out. I can’t respect or sympathize with a perspective that says canon is worse because one’s wishes for it weren’t fulfilled.

I'm not even saying that it's wrong to not like how Mashima handles a ship. I still don't like how Graytear played out. You're allowed to feel that Mashima's handling of any part of a series isn't great. However, I don't think the series is worse for what it did to Graytear. Fairy Tail wouldn't be worse if Nalu didn't happen.

I'd argue it would be better, but that's enough for now...

#fairy tail #anti nalu #what could my final suggestion possibly be?#i freaking wonder #i've literally tried to write this post 8 times over 3 years #most of them were in the past 10 months #this was queued #it will post sometime before 2020 ends #probably #update: january 2nd '21

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certainempatheticturkeymuffin · 3 years ago

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Four weeks of four might end up being four months of four for me...

Idk if y'all have noticed, but I tend to burnout on schedules. I do fine for a week, maybe even a month or two. Then I get stressed and take a break for a couple months. It's happened three times since I started posting to ao3 consistently, and even more before then. Understandably, I don't want it to happen again.

The first time was obviously in April. The stress was driving me up the wall. I announced my hiatus, only intending to be gone for a week or two, and that stretched to nearly two months. I lasted nearly four months on a schedule, but I was falling apart until Levie told me to take a break and that the readers would be fine with it.

Then I come back from hiatus, and I make a deadline for a oneshot that had gone way over its' word limit. That was my hiatus in june and why I suddenly started missing updates again. I missed the deadline and that fic, the fic that I spent over 100 hours on, the fic that's currently sitting at 17k, but was at 38k before I scrapped it, yeah, it's unpublished and I haven't worked on it in over a month. I was so disappointed in myself. I had to shut down for a while after putting so much work into something only to fail to meet an arbitrary deadline that I didn't even announce. That was why i went silent in June.

About that draft, I've had an unreleased art piece that I'm planning on releasing alongside that fic, and I think y'all will really love it, so I'm gonna start work on it again before my art improves so much that this extremely impressive (for me) piece falls below my standard. Realistically, I'm not gonna top it for a while, but I want y'all to be just as impressed as I was when I finished it. I don't want y'all to think my art style is regressing or anything. Just something to look forward to, I guess.

...the next burnout was more a suicide scare. I've got real bad mental health because...of a lot of personal things. I don't have a good home life, my physical health is only just improving, and I'm stuck in the closet around homophobic and transphobic people. Hell, I've had suicidal thoughts since I was twelve, before I even knew I was nonbinary. It...it never got that bad before, and I was terrified. I had to dox myself to my friends so if I suddenly vanished they could look and see if I'd been given an obituary. It got that bad. It's only been a few weeks since then, so trying to be consistent for FWOF was really a bad idea in the first place. The stress and, really, fear of letting everyone down is leading me down the path of burnout and another scare. I can't do that again so soon. So, forgive me if I'm late on fwof. I just thought y'all deserved an explanation. I was so excited to be productive, so this is probably a downer for y'all.

I've still got side projects, so I'll be releasing the standard oneshots every once in a while.

As for progress on FWOF itself....Blue's art is giving me issues, mainly the feet and hands because I'm not used to dynamic poses. And with it being lineless, I probably shouldn't be so picky with the fingers. The writing prompt is chugging along slowly. I'm probably doing more research than strictly necessary, but I'm giving myself breaks so I don't burnout on it, because I actually really like the story so far despite the lack of editing. I'm going to be honest, I haven't started on Red or Green. I have an idea for Red's art piece, but I'm drawing a blank for Green. It'll probably have something to do with the pyramid.

Vio's was actually really rushed, I caught a few stray details after posting and I'm kicking myself for it, but otherwise I still like how it turned out. The writing prompt...i might make changes to it, I might not.

The FWOF prompts may run into October, but just know that that's just for quality control and so I can give you guys more content in the long run.

I figured I owed y'all an explanation for my recent actions and my unsteady post schedule. Again, I'm really sorry about all this, I hope I didn't let y'all down too much 💛💛💛💛

#update #announcement #real talk #four weeks of four

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janedrakey131 · 4 years ago

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zukka hp au part 6

Thank you so much, everyone! I hope you continue to enjoy this au. I had a few minutes last night, so I wrote up a couple scenes for all of you.

I haven’t written anything in so long though, so I’m sorry about the quality. Also, if someone is OOC, I’m sorry, I really tried. I need to rewatch atla at this rate. But feedback is always appreciated! I’m tagging anyone currently on the tag list, but if you missed it or just saw it, please let me know on the tag list post and I’ll add you in for future posts. (If you’d like me to reblog and tag you on this one, that’s also an option, but please comment or DM me so I know exactly who would like that.)

Also, if you couldn’t tell, I have no idea what I’m doing. So if I left someone off the tag list by accident or put it in a weird spot, I’m sorry! It’s possibly because I had to google how to make one yesterday XD But if I missed you, please tell me! I swear it wasn’t intentional. If you have any other suggestions or questions, let me know!

If you’d like to catch up:

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9 part 10 part 11 part 12 part 13

If you would like to join the tag list

And with that, hope you enjoy :)

October 31 1981

There’s a suspicious bump.

The minister really does not like suspicious bumps.

But working in the Ministry of Magic for as long as he has, eventually he stopped jumping at every single one. He calls that progress. His wife says he’s finally lost whatever survival instincts he used to possess.

The minister doesn’t care overly much though. Today’s a happy day! The Avatar defeated Lord Sozin! He should be drafting congratulatory letters for the poor kid. Speaking of the child, he needs to find out where they are. And also who they are. There’s an astounding lack of information on this baby.

There’s a suspicious fwoosh and two masked wizards stand before him.

The minister is a calm and collected man. So, of course, he screams.

“None of that now,” says the older man with absolutely wild grey hair. “Stop screaming, Minister. We’re not here to hurt you.”

The minister wasn’t born yesterday, and his mother has reliably informed him that he isn’t a complete imbecile. He continues screaming.

The other intruder nudges the other and sighs. “You’re scaring him.”

“No, really?” Lunatic One groans. “I didn’t notice over all the screaming. Silencio. Honestly, he supposedly went toe to toe with Sozin in the Wizengamot for years. You’d think he’d have more guts than this.”

The nicer interloper (but still Lunatic Two) sighs again. “One who knows when to retreat will live longer than those who stay to fight past their abilities.”

“No, no, nope, we are not having your little philosophical riddles today. They just make my head hurt. You’re only here to make sure I don’t get bored and decide I want to wear his spine as a necklace.”

The minister’s eyes must pop out of his skull a bit.

“Just get to the point, my friend, so we can let this nice man enjoy his evening.”

“Nice man? He’s a politician. They’re all crackpots,” necklace man says.

The minister privately wonders why his friend bothers to sigh again when he clearly isn’t surprised.

“You’re a politician, too.”

“Yes,” the crazy one replies sagely. “I’m a crackpot. It means I wear the stench of insanity with pride and can identify it elsewhere.”

“Anyway,” the same man continues, but this time clearly directed towards the minister. “Simple request. Don’t look for the Avatar. No, no, no, I see you shaking your head at me. Just don’t look for them, or I’ll be back for my new bony accessories.”

His calmer friend looks the minister in the eyes. “We will keep the Avatar safe. But if Sozin’s followers find out where the child is, they’ll be dead before their next birthday. Do you understand, Minister?”

The minister likes to think he’s good at reading the room, so he nods a bit frantically. With them taking care of the child, that’s one less thing for him to worry about. And he gets to keep his spine. He’s rather partial to it now that he thinks about it. Anyway, it’s a win for everyone.

“Excellent.”

And then the two men are gone.

Hurray for delegating responsibilities.

Today was enitrely too exciting for his delicate sensibilites. The minister pulls out the biggest bottle of Firewhiskey he owns and Floos home. Maybe he’ll get that takeout his wife likes today. She always deserves nice things, but especially today in exchange for all the blubbering he’s about to do.

oOo

“Did you really have to scare him so thoroughly, Headmaster?” Iroh asks once they’re safely back in the Headmaster’s office.

Headmaster Bumi throws his head back and laughs. “Fear is healthy! It keeps the blood pumping. The masks just added to the overall effect. And it’s not like I’d actually follow through. He just needs some character building. But at least that’s done. The kid’s with a friend of mine tonight. You’ll take the child to the orphanage tomorrow then?”

Iroh nods. “We’ll check in on him sometimes?”

“Of course,” Bumi says, looking scandalized. “What do you take me for? If he isn’t being treated well, prophecy or no prophecy, I’ll raise him myself. We don’t tolerate child abuse in this house.”

Iroh is extremely alarmed by the idea of Bumi raising any child, let alone the Avatar. But he is relieved they’re on the same page. At least now he doesn’t have to plan a kidnapping. Finally, after a long, but successful, night, Iroh leans back and enjoys his freshly brewed tea in peace.

Bumi’s chewing breaks the comfortable silence.

“Want a biscuit? They’re lemon poppy seed.”

Moderate peace then, but he thanks the Headmaster and enjoys his biscuit.

oOo

September 1, 1990

Sokka kind of assumes that he’ll be extremely bored during his first year of Hogwarts. He isn’t friends with anyone in his year yet, and Katara is a year younger.

Out of the limited number of other wizarding families he’s met, he hasn’t gotten along with many of the other kids. They were all either too dull, too old, or too annoying.

So Sokka has to admit he didn’t see this coming.

The boy in front of him is cool.

He’s already changed into pressed black Hogwarts robes with a red tie, so Sokka assumes the boy is maybe a second year Gryffindor. His black hair is neatly pulled out of his face, and there’s just a hint of the hair piece holding it up. Sokka’s busy staring at the rings on the boy’s fingers, a clear sign of an elemental magic user. But he’s too far away to figure out which element.

Sokka doesn’t really care though. People are people. It can’t hurt to ask if he can sit there.

So he screws up his courage and opens the door to the train compartment.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Sokka blinks. This boy isn’t very friendly, but he presses on.

“Everywhere else is full,” he says, lying through his teeth. “Mind if I join you?”

Five full compartments can be rounded up to all of them. Sokka’s a man of science. He would know.

The boy doesn’t answer for a beat, looking him up and down. Then he sneers. “Wolf’s tail, all that blue? You must be another Water Tribe peasant.”

Sokka can feel the blood rushing in his ears. Of all the compartments he had to walk into, it had to be a Fire Nation one.

“And you must be half troll with manners like that,” he bites out, before slamming the compartment door shut and walking away.

That was terrible. But it’s too late to go back and properly insult the other boy, so Sokka angrily walks away.

oOo

That’s all for now!

A few more things:

I’m trying to make my life easier with dates for this au, so Halloween 1981 is when Sozin tried to kill the Avatar. Aang’s birthday is just going to be so late in the year that he got bumped to the year below. So we’re going based on Sokka’s years in school, first year starting in 1990. If something I’m doing doesn’t make sense or I’m completely contraindicating something, please ask! There’s a really good chance I’ve missed something.

Also, any and all commentary or jokes made by characters about being insane and so on will not extend to actually poking fun at a character’s mental health. If they’ve got an issue that’s bothering them, that’s that. In this case, I think random people appearing in your office would scare you. And Bumi just sounds like someone who assumes everyone is as sane as he is.

Lastly, say hello to one of the few straight characters we have. The minister was just a fun OC I made up, so I don’t have any corresponding atla character in mind for him. I was going to give him a name, but it just felt better having him be this random competent leader with a badass wife.

If you’d like to catch up:

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9 part 10 part 11 part 12 part 13

If you would like to join the tag list

@delievia @assyouwishh @aphrcditeee @theoneandonlyredrobin @dongdingheresthething @bring-back-wally @zuko-just-wants-his-honor @youcant-escapefate @iwillgodownwiththisship27 @animegeneral17 @uglybutuwu @cocoa-hooves @errvaaa

#zukka #hp au #part 6 #atla au #atla #zuko #sokka #katara #toph #suki #iroh #sozin #ozai

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theastrophilearchitect · 3 years ago

Text

Just keep swimming, just keep swimming...

Writing journey #4.

15/05/2021 07.22 My break has officially been over for five days, and i have done some writing, but it’s been incredibly inconsistent, so I decided to start this blog post over. Bay Tree has been archived, and though FSB isn’t done, I’ve realised I need to take a step back. It’s why writers leave weeks at a time between drafts--so when they return, they’re in a different mindset, and can improve their work.

For this same reason, I need to take a step back before I finish my outline. My thought process is becoming monotonous, which means I’m losing my excitement. When you start a project, you have the idea in your head as perfect, and when those ‘vibes’ become tangible, it is less exciting. That’s unavoidable. But I just need to take a step back, so when I return, I have fresh ideas, and the plot becomes more exciting to me.

So today, I’m going to start brainstorming a new idea I had, which I don’t have an alias for yet, and I have an idea to essentially bind every project I have together, but not in Grishaverse- or Shadowhunters-style where you need to read ten books just to read the one you want. Just a nod to anyone who does read multiple, like when Aelin falls through worlds and sees Rhys and Feyre for a split second.

So. Let’s brainstorm.

My plan, I think, is to alternate weekly. This week, I’ll work on the new one, next week I’ll do FSB. I could just take this new idea and apply it to FSB, except I just don’t see how that would work. I have different worlds in mind, and this new one is a fantasy where FSB is sci-fi(/fantasy. It’s kinda both).

16/05/2021 07.07 I really wish I was a pantser. Even though I haven’t got to the editing stage, my favourite part of writing is implementing new ideas and making changes, but I’m just not a pantser. I need to know where each part is going. Instead, I have to sit here, brainstorming, for days, to figure everything out.

18/05/2021 07.06 I did a lot of work on the 16th, but I was busy yesterday, and didn’t get any writing done, because, when I was free, I was just reading. So, I’ve decided I’m going to at least write before I leave the house, which gives me about 45 minutes this morning.

23/05/2021 18.30 Based on the fact it has been five days, I think you can tell how good I’ve been about keeping writing. The problem is that I don’t actually have much past a concept for my new project, so I’m trying to figure out how, precisely, I could merge the two projects. FSB is interesting, but doesn’t have a huge amount of depth, which adding the characters from the new project would absolutely do, while the new project is lacking plot, which FSB (at least the first book I’ve planned) does. So, I’m going to start a new Scrivener project, and consider how I can merge the two concepts while implementing both plots.

Is it too much? I have only two main characters in FSB, but five in the newer one, which gives me seven main characters, divided into three groups. And do I want to write a book with so many separate storylines? I know readers (myself included) always end up favouring one storyline over another, getting annoyed when certain POVs come up. I don’t know what to do.

I could keep the new project, but implement FSB? Hold up. New Project (NP) has two protagonists who could undergo a similar development to the protagonists of FSB... I had a plan for the male protagonist of FSB, his arc, which wouldn’t work for NP’s male protagonist, but would work perfectly for its female protagonist...

Tumblr’s glitching. It wouldn’t let me reblog a post earlier, and now it won’t let me save this draft. Please, no.

Okay, so I had to copy what I’d written for today, disconnect and reconnect to the Wi-Fi, then wait for my drafts to load to paste it. Going great!

21.00 So I didn’t get a huge amount done, because I caught up doing ~evening things~, but I at least have a plan going forward, which is an accomplishment

30/05/2021 09.29 I’ve spent the last couple weeks doing everything I can to avoid writing, but i now have an insane amount of free time, so I have no excuse. I want to use this time in a productive way, and, for me, that means writing.

03/06/2021 10.31 I swear to god, I’ve had ‘writing’ on my to-do list every single day, except not doing it is probably my own fault, because it’s been so far down on the list. Also, I’m doing a buddy read, but am also unfortunately descending into a reading slump, so even reading 50 pages takes me about 90 minutes--they’re not even long pages.

I actually went back onto my old Wattpad account earlier, where I found a load of old, unfinished stuff, but none of it was as bad as I thought it would be, and the ideas weren’t bad. I just really have no idea what it is I’m writing right now, and I hate trying to figure it out.

11.30 There are so many Ss in the word ‘assassin’ this is not okay.

This is actually going so well. I have two storylines in my head, a complex cast of characters, and I’m so looking forward to plotting this.

04/06/2021 08.04 Look at me, two days in a row. Anyways, I’m thinking I ought to name these characters ASAP, because it’ll be easier to shape them to their names than it will be to find a name which fits them once they’ve been shaped.

14.41 Here’s what I’m realising: I like to pants plots, but I can’t do that while I’m actually drafting, so I think my plan is actually to bullet point everything that happens, then revise that, then start drafting, so the story is basically set in the first draft.

I’ve actually gone through a lot of stuff--I have workable plot material!

17.16 So, me being me, I’ve semi-outlined (I say semi-, it’s more like a tenth) a trilogy, meaning I have ideas for three books following this storyline, and it... makes sense. It’s the kind of story where I can follow multiple arcs, a few at a time, instead of several overarching ones, or maybe it’s just that I’m letting myself.

07/06/2021 16.44 I don’t have a damn clue what I’ve spent the day doing. I haven’t done anything in a couple days because it was the weekend and I was busy, but I’m back now. The thing is, I haven’t spent the day reading, watching, drawing, or doing anything, really--it’s escaped me. But, at the very least, I’ve relaxed, so who cares?

I’m not applying story structure to the ideas I’m having quite yet--rather, I’m just developing them to see how they bloom on their own, then I’ll fit it in; it just seems like a more natural and effective way to develop.

Yeah, no. It’s too late in the day for this. I have zero motivation.

08/06/2021 09.49 Maybe I’ll accomplish something today; who knows? Certainly not me.

I’m now applying the 3-act structure, but I’m realising I have way too many details worked out for this--switching to more acts.

22.20 Why am I doing this to myself? I wish I could say I’m not entirely sure, but it’s because I can’t sleep, because this project, and my character Lihan, are the only things I can think about, so here I am. I don’t want to be a night writer, but que sera sera (I wish I could type accents on an English keyboard).

23.22 I accomplished more in the last hour on this project than I have in the last four days.

09/06/2021 - 1,115 words 09.29 I really hope I don’t prove today that night-writing is my sweet spot--I don’t want it to be. Can the world just let me have a functional sleep schedule??

Anyways, so, as I’ve mentioned before, I use Scrivener, which enables me to sort which documents are part of the manuscript from the ones that aren’t. I’ve been working outside of the manuscript, but I think I’m going to move them into it--I have a plan I believe will be more effective for my own drafting. I think I very much need the events to be set in stone before I begin writing in actual prose, so how can I do that? Especially when I also enjoy pantsing, but not in prose?

Here’s the plan: I plot out the main events, then bullet point everything in very high detail, similar to what many people call a zero draft, in which they draft a book in short form. I’ll sort the bullet points into chapters (but not scenes, because as I discovered with Bay Tree, I find scene-blocking makes the narrative less natural), leave it alone a while, then revise, so I can have my plot more-or-less set in stone before I work on prose.

As a result, I’m going to shift my plotting into the manuscript section, because it is, essentially, an early draft, and also I want a word count as a progress metre.

13/06/2021 - 1,611 words 8.18 Alas, I have been busy the last few days, but I’m here now.

9.20 The amount of secrets and who-knows-what in this story is genuinely absurd, but I’m sure I’ll clean it up eventually.

14.01 A few days ago, I came across a post about balancing large casts, which is exactly what I have, and the first thing it mentioned was the two-trait rule, in which every character has two traits completely unique to them, to help both reader and writer differentiate. Which I’m now going to implement.

14.42 I have these two characters, and I know exactly what I want their dynamic to be, except I can’t decide who should be which part of it.

I have made my decision. It probably works better now, but it does alter their roles, so I need to fix that.

I literally swapped them round solely because I decided one was taller than the other and thought it would be more interesting if the short one was the sadist. Why do I make my own life so difficult?

14/06/2021 - 1,574 words 11.08 I didn’t make an enormous amount of progress yesterday, but I did make some, and made notes of ideas for relationship arcs last night, so I count that a victory (forced optimism--surprisingly effective). I’m currently just working through bullet-pointing book one, while making notes of events I want in the rest of the series (I’m projecting three books, and telling myself I will finish them). I’m currently fiddling with one of my storylines to see how I can mould it to FSB’s and OH MY GOODNESS I JUST HAD A GREAT IDEA must take notes, one moment pleaseeee.

Okay, so I have four bullet points for relationship arcs and an idea to adjust one of the storylines--I’d say I have six main characters, two of whom are really the protagonists, two of which are my favourites, and the other two are fun, but in need of development. They’re split into a group of four and a pair, and I’m definitely more into the storyline of the four, mostly because the four contains my two favourites, and it’s more developed than that of the pair.

I’ve been keeping a list of things to add: motivations, loose plot threads, plot points I want to include--I really need to re-organise it.

On another note, I am so glad I named the characters as early as I did. I’m debating having two of the characters swap names, but I don’t think I will, because I will absolutely mix them up, and one of them is part of the perfect ship name.

My mouse isn’t working. I changed the batteries, but it’s not working, so now I get the joy of trying to figure out if the batteries I put in are just old or if the mouse no longer works, which would suck.

Yes, I’m going to describe this. Mostly because when I changed the batteries the first time, it took a minute to stop working, and this will waste a minute. So, first set of batteries, which we’ll call set 1, don’t work. I don’t know if it’s both or just one, but if it’s one, I don’t want to throw away both. I take out set 1, I put in set 2. Set 2 works perfectly. So it’s not the mouse. Now I take out battery 2B, and replace it with 1A, so I have 1A and 2A in here. I know 2A works, but I’m not sure about 1A, but the mouse works, so 1A is fine. Let’s replace 1A with 1B.

Yep. 1B is the problem child. 1A works fine, but 1B doesn’t. Lovely. Crisis averted. It would’ve really sucked it I had to get a new mouse. And back to writing!

12.13 I’m bouncing between documents as I organise, which means my word count is actually decreasing, so I feel like I’m making significantly less progress than I am.

I just realised my two protagonists are cousins. I’ve had it in my head that one’s father was the brother of the other’s father, but somehow I didn’t realise that makes them cousins.

I’m about to delete a list because I’ve reformatted it--my word count is currently at 1,958, but is really about to drop.

AND NOW WE’RE AT 1,572. My session word count is -32. Minus thirty-two. I hate it here, but it’s fine, because we’re ~developing~.

15/06/2021 - 2,113 words 09.39 It’s not even technically summer yet, but it’s too hot, and I hate it here. All the windows are open, so everything’s cool, there’s a nice breeze, and lots of light, but the birds are so loud, and I have to keep all the doors closed because the open windows send them swaying and slamming. You know when you close a door when all the windows are open and it slams? Yep. Not into it.

I feel like every day I try a new way to organise my plotting. I’m unsure as to whether that’s helping me or holding me back, because it forces me to review what I have, which usually sparks new ideas, but I’m not convinced I’ll ever get to the end as long as I keep doing this.

21/06/2021 13.40 I spent the latter half of last week with zero motivation, then I was busy at the weekend, but I’m here now. I’ve been trying to make myself write basically all day--I have a plan, and a list of things I’ve come up with the last few days, but I just couldn’t make myself do it. I’m not in a good mood, but maybe this will help.

I have, however, just reminded myself that I need to prepare this week’s post, because I sincerely doubt either this or my ongoing Recent reads will be ready for Friday. Actually, if I do quite a bit of writing this week, this post might be, but I’m not willing to bet on it.

And oh, crap, now I just want to write a blog post.

No. No I don’t. I started looking at the list of ideas I had, and now I’m just not feeling it. I’m pretty sure when I open my document for this project I’ll lose all motivation too, but it’s worth a shot.

There’s a specific relationship in an anime I recently watched that I want to pull apart--there’s this ship, and the author of the manga has called the two characters ‘soulmates’. There’s just this huge amount of tension between the two, and I want to re-watch the show because I love it, but also so I can take notes to figure out what was so effective about it.

13.53 I’ve been doing this for 13 minutes, but I do think I need to leave this project/outline alone for a bit, give it an opportunity to ruminate, to evolve. In truth, I may not even come back to it until I’ve re-watched the anime I was talking about so I can tear that ship to pieces.

17.33 So I just learned brainstorming is apparently significantly easier on paper. Hm. I’ve just worked out so damn much, stuff I’ve been struggling with.

18.00 I have successfully tied up so many plot threads, simply by working with pen and paper. This is revolutionary. (I know, not really, but it is for me, someone adamant about working with a keyboard and monitor)

22/06/2021 09.42 Seriously, why did I never try actually working on paper before? Something about holding a pen to paper and scribbling and drawing a mindmap--it just works. I’ve been obstinate about avoiding working on paper because I hate physically writing, yet here we are.

25/06/2021 11.09 I’m really not managing much reading at the moment--since I started reading manga, my attention span has just gone down the drain. I’m currently reading Mister Impossible by Maggie Stiefvater, and I don’t think it helped that I had to stop less than a third of the way in to do a buddy read, but I just don’t have much motivation to read it, though I do so want to. I haven’t been listening much to audiobooks lately either, because when I’d usually listen--when I’m getting dressed, waking up, going to bed etc.--I just want to listen to music, because I also recently fell down the well of k-pop, and the group whose discography I’m getting to know at the moment is BTS. Basic, but they’re the fifth group I’m doing, and they have so many songs. Which would happen after eight years, but still.

I want to read so, so badly, but I just don’t feel like reading Mister Impossible. But I do want to finish it before reading anything else. I think I’ll finish my current audiobook, then if I’m still feeling stagnated in Mister Impossible, I’ll switch to the audiobook of that, then just take a break from reading until I’m ready to actually read.

But this post is for writing, not reading. I did write on the 23rd, but I just didn’t update this post. The 24th I was busy, but my wall is now covered in post-it notes of world-building, characters, gods, plot points, and a whole load of other stuff.

Also, I had an idea for a book title this morning--not for this one, just in general--and when I went to add it to my list, I found a title that would so suit this project. I don’t want to say it, but let’s just say this project will be called ItLotG--or not. That’s a hideous combination of letters. I promise it is actually a good title.

11.52 I’m having another crisis over these two characters. I’m thinking it would make more sense to have L’s betrayal ‘arc’ initiated before the catalyst, or rather have it be the catalyst, except the problem there is that they’re not in the city they need to be in to receive that offer.

UNLESS,,,, what if this point happens just while they’re in the capital.... I’ve got it.

17.16 I’ve been taking notes this whole time of everything I want to happen in books 2 and 3, and I have so much now i think they’ll be so much easier to plot than this one.

The downside of working mostly on paper is that my plans on Scrivener have been refined to one document, which is now only 878 words.

Right now, there’s a glaring hole between the midpoint and the ending, but my climax is one of those where the climax itself is a very small part of a bigger event, so if I figure out what I want to happen in this big event which is essentially the whole of the third act, I should be able to fill in the rest of Act Two with the setup for that.

So I’m leaving it there for both today and this post. In the last month or so, I decided to start over and mash two projects together, which created a whole new storyline I love, and now I’m mostly done with the first outline. I want to treat outlines as more than just preparation for drafts, because I find notes so much easier to edit than actual prose, and I hate writing without a clear idea of where I’m going.

I think I’m going to call these ‘runs’--an outline is a run through, a draft a run through, so I’m nearly done with my first run, and I’m very proud of that, so go, go write the idea you have, drink some water, take a nap if you need one, eat if you haven’t eaten in a few hours, and I’ll be back with another writing update innnnnnn probably august, honestly.

Go write that idea!

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unsettledink · 4 years ago

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Back in the days of LJ, I used to try and do a post at the end of each year, looking back primarily at fandom and fic. I fell out of the habit when everything moved to tumblr, and then it seemed like I didn’t have anything to say since I wasn’t writing or really participating any.

But I always liked the idea of it, because I love to be overly reflective on stuff. And talk about my fic. Any excuse! I shuffled around some of the topics I used back then and added a few I’ve seen around that I liked. It got… long, because I TALK, so I split into two sections.

Your main fandom of the year?

Marvel (MCU) for sure. Primarily with characters from Spider-Man and Iron Man movies.

Your favorite film watched this year?

The Old Guard - I saw a couple trailers and everything about it looked like catnip. ‘It’s probably going to be so dumb, but I don’t even care,’ I thought. And then it was so good. It was so much fun and so much smarter than I expected and I loved each and every character and it just made me happy in so many ways.

Your favorite book read this year?

Red, White, and Royal Blue, Casey McQuiston - I read it twice this year actually. It’s so… cute isn’t the right world. Sweet and hopeful and soft and comforting and intense. I liked every single character which is pretty rare. I cried during the sad parts and then again at the happy ending, like straight up sobbed - both times. I already want to read it again.

Your favorite tv show watched this year?

Schitt’s Creek - I started it on a whim and because a lot of people had said it was good. The episodes were short so it wasn’t a huge time investment. The first season was a little rough, but there were enough funny moments that I hung on, and then… I kept getting fonder and fonder of these idiots as they grew. And THEN… it kept not disappointing me?

You grow to expect certain scripts, twists, jokes, especially in queer story lines. To wait for the bad thing to happen, because it always does. Instead, Schitt’s Creek kept going, ‘hey, here’s the set up for that! Guess what? We’re not doing it. Here’s the happy version instead.’ The relief of having that happen again and again - the last season I’ve watched (I’m sort of saving 6) I cried a bunch but it was always because I was happy.

Your favorite album or song to listen to this year?

1896 - I’ve been waiting for the new Steam Powered Giraffe album so eagerly for aaaaaages. Finally getting recordings of Zero’s songs! Lying Awake remains my favorite off the album, with Eat Your Heart and Bad Days on the Horizon high up there as well. I’m loving what Zero brings to the band.

Your best new fandom discovery of the year?

I don’t know if I really did discover that much? I stuck pretty closely to old fandoms and the ones I picked up in 2019. Maybe Zodiac? It was definitely inspiring, and I want to write and read more in it.

Maybe the couple discords I joined? I still really dislike discord and am not on there much, and mostly lurk when I am, but having somewhere vaguely like the comms I remember makes me feel a little less isolated. It’s the potential, that maybe if I said something I might make a friend, or someone might actually want to hear what I say.

Your biggest fandom disappointment of the year?

The Watch - I mean, I knew it was going to be a disaster with every word said during pre production. I wasn’t ever going to be happy with it. And then it came out and was even worse and uglier and … disrespectful not just of the source material but of actual people connected to Terry. I’m beyond disappointed that this is what we got, and it’s probably going to be a long time before we get anything else.

Devil All the Time was terrible, but I didn’t have especially high hopes. It still didn’t manage to meet them. Yikes.

The most missed of your old fandoms?

Maybe MASH? Someone I follow started talking about it and I was reminded all over again of the wonderful fics in that fandom. I went looking and a lot are gone (still on my computer, lol, but not online), but rereading was such a trip. A slightly depressing trip, but still.

The fandom you haven't tried yet, but want to?

Hmm. I’ve kind of not had the energy to invest in other fandoms at the moment? When The Witcher was having it’s big moment back in January, I had a feeling I might enjoy it enough to fall headfirst into the fandom, so I avoided watching it. Ikr? I don’t have the time or the energy to actively seek anything out.

Your biggest fan anticipations for the New Year?

SO EXCITED about Winter’s Orbit. I mean, the third Spider-Man movie for sure, with worry. The second Venom movie, ugh yes. I have tentative hopes for Jungle Cruise? Jumanji was stellar and I always enjoy Dwayne. I have both hope and dread for the new Suicide Squad - I did love Birds of Prey, so if it’s along those lines, yay. The Hitman’s Wife’s Bodyguard because it should be some fun garbage, my favorite kind. I don’t know how I feel about Dune, but, uh, I’m anticipating it. It seems highly unlikely it will actually happen, but The Wheel of Time TV series.

I want to be excited about Black Widow but it’s hard. It’s not the story I’ve been wanting to see, and I’m angry about Natasha not getting a movie until she’s dead.

You know. If any of it is released for real.

The Good:

I moved to a better place. I got a better paying, better benefits, better environment job that lets me work from home. The house acquired 3-7 more cats depending on the month. I was able to get some serious problems on my car fixed. I have insurance and was able to start on some health stuff. No one I know got sick or died. I wrote a LOT.

The Bad:

Aside from the obvious? Depression hitting extra hard during the winter. Having to put two kittens to sleep. Have my car be hit three times in our parking lot. Being driven INSANE by one of the cats for months while the vets were all closed. Kidney stone. Dealing with several health problems. Stalling for months on Gotcha.

The Indifferent:

Not leaving the house often or easily. Enjoying a new fandom but not doing great at making connections (still real awkward, bud). Raising kittens and saying goodbye. Need new tires. Reading a lot of fic but not a lot of books. Having more pay but more expenses as well (wth insurance??).

2020 fic stats

Number of stories: 39

Number of fandoms: 6? Or 2, if you cluster the others under mcu

Total number of words: 152049

Average word count per story: 4kish

Longest fic: Causality (18k, P/Q)

Shortest fic: Can’t, Won’t (1k, P/Q)

Most comments received: Sieche (49, T/P)

Fandom you wrote the most of: MCU Spider-Man - I only wrote TWO fics that didn’t feature that fandom, wow. And one of those was still MCU.

Fandom you wrote the least of: Zodiac (1!)

Events you participated in: Marvel Trumps Hate, Kinktober, IornspidersGeorg Exchange, Starker Festivals Exchange, MCU Secret Santa, Spiderio Big Bang

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you'd predicted?

SO MUCH MORE OMG. I mean, even just counting posted stuff! (I probably wrote a solid 300k of Gotcha this year.) I did not expect or plan on doing Kinktober, so that’s a whole 31 fics right there. I also wasn’t planning on doing any exchanges - I have a History - but then I did three? And beyond that, I did not expect for everything to get so LONG.

Topic you wrote that you would never have predicted in January:

Tony/Quentin. Goddammit @the-me09 They were like hey, they could be interesting! And while I agreed, I had no ideas for them. THEN they had to go and write Just Bodies That Collide and next thing I know, I’ve got ten fics featuring them and two-six series focused on them or Peter/Quentin/Tony. What the fuck.

Leitmotif of the year:

Vulnerability, I think. I had a bunch of things typed up and they all circle back to vulnerability in the end; sex, being seen, being wanted, sharing trauma, asking for help, trying something new. Offering a soft spot in the hopes it won’t be hurt.

Favorite character to write about:

Tony Stark, for sure. There are just a bunch of slightly different takes, and a lot of canon to work with (kind of frustrating too though). And I’m a sucker for emotionally damaged snarky traumatized characters that are viewed poorly both in universe and out.

Favorite kind of fic to write:

This year? Fluff and smut combined. Maybe that’s not the right term really. I keep looking for and writing, even in the angstiest fics, for those soft moments. Sure, maybe it’s a super smutty kink scene, but I want the affection to be obvious. Maybe everyone is consumed by guilt, but I want it to be based in caring too much. Maybe there’s no real love, just sex and even that’s messed up, but I want to find that tiny bit of fondness.

And I want happy endings. Or endings that look like they’re going to be happy, at least, even if there’s all the angst first. I don’t think I’ve killed anyone this year? Who AM I?

Biggest disappointment:

Not finishing the rough draft of Gotcha. I was making such good progress in 2019, from August to December. Even after the move, I basically finished part 6 in January. I fumbled around and fussed with 1 a lot, but that had already been given one draft, really, and I got through half of 4 before I slowed to a stop. I’ve barely gotten anything accomplished on it since June. Bits and pieces here and there, but nothing significant, not like I was doing. I can excuse October, due to 80k invested in Kinktober (yikes!), but aside from that… I’m sad. I’ll finish it eventually, but I really thought I could have the first draft done in a year. I’m sitting at about 480k out of what I’m almost certain will be 700k.

Biggest surprise:

Kinktober! It was kind of spur of the moment, decided just a week in advance. I’ve tried month long or even like, 20-25 day long challenges and I don’t think I’ve ever completed one. I thought there was a good chance I’d do so again, so I gave myself a little help and made my own list of prompts, things I knew I liked and hadn’t done much of yet. And it worked? I actually completed it, what the hell? Despite spending five days travelling near the end! Despite falling behind in getting ahead and writing a bunch of stories the day they were to be posted! Despite apparently forgetting how to do short form!

I, uh, could have done without the spawning of eleven series or sequels or continuations jfc WHY SELF.

Something you learned this year:

Ideas breed ideas. I swear to god, the second I sit down to think through a current idea, I wake up the next morning with three more.

Words need to be restocked. I need to consume new - not rereads, not fic - content every so often to refresh my word bank. It is astonishing how quickly writing goes again after I’ve done so.

I can write so much more than I thought I could. I can do so much more than I thought I could. Yes, I can complete challenges without dropping out early. Yes, I can do exchanges and not regret it. Yes, I can write more than 100k, more than 200k, more and more - and I can write 10k+ easily too. Though I wouldn’t mind if I could once again write less than 10k without feeling like I’ve cut off in the middle.

My time is shrinking, and if I want to write as much, I’m going to have to make the time. I can’t rely on three days off a week, on seven hours of uninterrupted overnight shifts, on hyper focused writing binges that leave everything else around me on fire.

Most memorable comment:

So, so many! I can’t pick one. I’ve been really lucky to get a bunch of really detailed, enthusiastic, analyzing comments across all different fics. One of the types that always sticks with me are the ones like ‘I didn’t think/know I liked this ship/kink/twist, but fuck, apparently I do? You made me, what the hell?’.

What, if anything, are you going to try to do differently in your writing in the new year?

So with writing Gotcha but not posting until it’s done, my view of what I’ve written vs anyone else’s is extremely skewed. I’m sitting here thinking, hey I’m 400k in and got another 10k done today, so much writing! While anyone looking at my AO3 account (for most of the year) is like, you’re averaging three months between fics :(

All that to say I want to try and get something posted more frequently while I’m working on Gotcha.

Also, writing for kinktober was really interesting - pushing myself to write every single day, often for that day’s post, forced me to get back into shorter form fic. Which used to be all I did? But it was surprisingly hard to just stop and not write more. So I’d like to challenge myself to write more fics under 10k at least. Maybe even under 5k though that might be asking a lot lol. I might get there with the many continuations of those fics I’d like to do. Does that count?

Goals:

I want to hit 365 fics. :) I’m only 32 away!

Aside from writing -

I’ve really enjoyed the reading record sideblog I started this year. I’ve let it lapse a little the past month or so, but I’d like to keep it going strong.

I’d like to leave a lot more comments. I want to get better about allowing imperfection - I want to write The Best Comment, but in the end? Probably 90% of fic writers are going to be happier with a comment expressing enjoyment in any way over no comment at all.

And not just on fics, but on general posts as well. It’s hard not to feel… weird and stupid and invasive and rude leaving any sort of comment on someone’s post if I don’t know them at least a little. I have godawful rejection sensitive dysphoria and a lot of interactions that ended poorly; I’m really not good at people. But as dumb as it feels to say those things, I know I am thrilled and warmed and happier when there’s a reblog with tags or a note or a comment or an ask or just, any small interaction that shows someone out there notices and cares, at least a little. There’s no reason I can’t at least try to offer that to other people.

I’d like to make/run a couple challenges of my own, later in the year. I’m still figuring out what I want to do and what I could do. I’m really interested in doing something that’s not focused on creators, but the readers; some sort of comment or rec challenge maybe.

I want to find a cheerleader for Gotcha. I’m struggling to keep up my motivation to write it when it’s already in my head, where I can ‘read’ it any time. There’s a line between depending too much on external validation and trying to generate all your validation yourself, and I’m getting to a point where I think I need to ask for help (gasp! The hardest thing EVER).

(Part Two: Pick Some Fics)

#end of year #unsettled rambles

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badhockeymom · 5 years ago

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NHL WAM Summer Camp vol 4 episode 4: Rasmus Ristolainen

The hosts of the show visit Turku where Rasmus Ristolainen has a training day with his personal physio coach Ville Rintala.

(link)

The training is on a football pitch and of course Risto has footwear to match the occasion, camo/gold cleats.

(I’ll skip most of the narration here, focusing on the interview bits, okay? One of the hosts, Manninen, tries out Ristolainen’s exercises, they talk with Rasmus and his coach, and later move on to Rasmus’ apartment in Turku.)

Q: Ripa (note: they don’t stick to just one nickname, why would they!), how has your summer been?

R: Really good. Nothing special, a lot of training and I’ve been traveling pretty much.

Q: Yes, I’ve seen on your IG, you running the hills of Crete and Cyprus.

Q: Ville, how has Rasse’s summer training looked like? Progress?

V: Yes, there’s progress every day. We have four more weeks to go before he goes back to the US.

Q: Rasmus isn’t one of your basic players who’ll just do what the trainer says, he has his own opinions on how to do the exercises. I guess you don’t have to push him very hard to get him to do anything.

V: Not if we practice something that he likes to do, like today. But there are parts of training he likes less, like conditioning. It takes some effort to wind down the pace with him, he’s always wanting to move on to the next move. He hates staying still. But it’s futile to overcoach any athlete, you don’t want to yell, there has to be the internal motivation to practice.

(moving on to Risto’s sunny balcony)

Q: You have a pretty nice place here. But hey, not a penthouse! Have you tried to pressure your upstairs neighbors to move out?

R: Well, I’ve tried to play music annoyingly loudly a couple of times each summer but that doesn’t seem to do much. Most of the other residents are a bit older and they spend a lot of the summer out on their summer cottages. I haven’t really even seen who lives up there.

Q:. What have you been doing? Your instagram is full of training pics.

R: I haven’t done too much else to be honest. I like working out and this summer I’ve done some trips to nice training places. I’ve been on Mykonos, in Marbella, a couple of times in Sweden. That takes up most of the summer.

Q: Do you always travel with the same training group?

R: Basically yes. A bit more in Mykonos but in Spain it was me and Ville.

Q: Tell me about how John Scott took you out in the Sabres locker room? How does that happen?

R: it was just some horseplay that we had after morning ice. I threw a cup or something at him from behind. I didn’t mean anything bad but he just happened to turn around and it hit him right in the face. He chased me for a while until I couldn’t run away anymore. Well, it calmed down, but then he said he wants to show me something. He took me in a chokehold and told me to tap out as soon as I don’t feel anything anymore. I fainted immediately. I didn’t have time to tap or anything. I woke up on the locker room floor. It was a weird feeling, being out for like ten seconds, they were pumping my chest in panic and I wake up there, like, what happened, and head to the gym.

Q: Hasn’t Scott told later that he panicked totally, shit, I killed our highest draft pick, we gotta get the guy up.

R: Yes, I’ve heard. It was scary, all right, but at least I now know what it feels like.

Q: He seemed like a nice dude, we met him in Buffalo one year.

R: He is. I actually called him up then to come in for the show to tell how it went, that story can give him unnecessary bad reputation if people don’t know what actually happened and think that he did some shit to me on purpose. But we’re cool, it was just fooling around. He was a great teammate and we still message each other from time to time.

Q: Time for Twitter questions. First, does Rasmus have a car with a woman figure and letters RR in front already?

R: What does that mean?

Q: Some car mod apparently.

R: No, I don’t have my cars modified.

Q: Who of these would you rather take down with a body check on open ice: a) Ovechkin, b) Mikko Koivu, c) Brad Marchand, d) Hornqvist, e) someone else, who?

R: All of them. (Exclaims boldly) Everyone. All together at once or one at a time.

Q: Tile or tin roof?

R: The one that stays cooler.

Q: Goal or assist?

R: Win.

Q: The best road city?

R: Toronto.

Q: Toronto, really? We get Vegas a lot.

R: Vegas is not that much my style.

Q: I’ve heard you train with MMA fighters in the summer. Do you follow UFC, have you gone to see any fights live?

R: Haven’t watched it live but I do like to watch martial arts, UFC, boxing. I’ve trained with Teemu Packalén (below) for a few years now.

Q: Which side of the river are we on now, by the way?

R: The other side. Both sides are the other side.

(The river Aura runs through Turku and the sides of the river are referred to “This” and “The other” side - to be more exact, it’s “on this side” and “on the other side” said in the local dialect, but if it’s just a running joke to refer to the POV in the situation or if there is a distinction is a complete mystery to me. I’m not from there)

Q: Meatballs with mashed potatoes, chicken and pasta or baked macaroni casserole?

R: I’d say macaroni casserole.

Q: It’s hot in here.

R: Yes, the air doesn’t move at all here. But you’re the one who wanted to sit here. This is like a sauna! An American style sauna where you can’t even trow water on the stove.

Q: Which elbow pad do you put on first?

R: Left. I don’t know why.

Q: Would you dare to put pink laces in your skates and play with them next season?

R: No. It’s not about daring but - no. I don’t do that kind of foolery.

Q: Did you get fined for this celly?

R: No fine but I keep hearing about it. That and the other one. Both of the two goals I did last season, people keep giving me shit about the celly. But at least people remember them!

Q: But it’s the right way. Let the feeling take over!

R: Yes. When you score only a couple of times a season, you gotta put on a show when it happens.

Q: Donna or Samppalinna?

R: Donna.

Q: Thanks for the answers!

R: Difficult questions!

Q: We’re going out on a boat now! Rasmus is going to show his berth next. (Rasmus laughs) He doesn’t have a boat, though, but he can show someone else’s.

(After the closing credits)

Q: So you got your driver’s licence back?

R: I’ve always had it.

Q: You can believe that in the NHL WAM history we always get most unusable stuff with Ripa.

Q: You must like this car model, you have the same in the US?

R: Yes. (It’s) safe.

Q: Do you want to comment your speeding ticket?

R: Better not try to explain.

R: (on pizza toppings) Pineapple, mushrooms, onion, garlic and pulled chicken wing meat.

#nhlwam summer camp #rasmus ristolainen #my translation #long post

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himluv · 5 years ago

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And just like that, October came and went. It was filled with pumpkins and rain and friends and all those cozy fall things. It was also a busy work month and a busy writing work month. Which probably explains why it went so quickly.

October Goals

Finish The Lament of Kivu Lacus rough draft

Revise and polish Exodus: Descent

Continue short story submissions

Keep reading!

How’d I do?

Finish The Lament of Kivu Lacus rough draft

YES! This story took a long time.

Revise and polish Exodus: Descent

YES! It’s out for submission right now!

Continue short story submissions

YES! Three stories are out and The Cost of Rain was accepted this month!

Keep reading!

YES! I read five titles this month, which is a huge improvement over the last couple of months!

Total Word Count: 865

Holy Crow y’all. My whole month is in the black! When did that happen? I felt like a did a whole lot of nothing this month, but the whiteboard doesn’t lie. I got shit done! I think this earns me a happy dance.

I really gotta work on this unrealistic expectations thing I have going. Even when I’m working hard and making progress, I always feel like I haven’t done anything. I need to relax y’all.

But, November is hardly the month for relaxation. Nanorwrimo, birthdays, holidays, family visiting… Yep. There’s the stress. Found it.

November Goals

Write 25k words

Read 10 titles

Continue short story subs

Short and sweet and oh so challenging this month, y’all. I love this time of year. I love the weather and the clothing and the general good feeling of spending time with loved ones. But man, I’m exhausted just thinking about the month ahead.

The biggest stressor is probably my family coming up from Arizona for Thanksgiving. Now, let me be absolutely clear: I AM SO F*&%ING EXCITED to have them spend the holiday with us. I’ve been looking forward to it for the better part of six months. We’ve gone down to AZ for the holidays a few times now, and I love seeing everyone, but this is different. This is my nuclear family coming up and seeing my house for the first time, eating our food, and sharing my space and life during my most favorite time of year.

I don’t know. It feels so much more special this way. I am so happy and excited to see them.

But, all of that being said. Hosting any sort of event with a houseful of people is stressful to me. I like my house the way it is. Husband, dog, and me. It’s quiet and relaxing. An actual sanctuary against the outside world. Inviting others inside is… stressful. That’s all there is to it.

Add to this stress not just normal Nanowrimo stress, but HOSTING Nanowrimo stress and, well, yikes. Again, exciting stuff, but a ton of work. And somewhere in all of this I need to read and write. A lot.

Which means I need to wrap this up and get to work! I’ll be back next week with the Goals Summary and October’s Reading Round Up.

‘Til then, Bloggarts!

The Recap – October 2019 And just like that, October came and went. It was filled with pumpkins and rain and friends and all those cozy fall things.

#Books #Editing #goals #Holidays #NaNoWriMo #Novellas #personal life #publishing #Reading #Revision #Science Fiction #Short Stories #Stress #Submissions #Thanksgiving #workworkwork #Writing

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aparticularbandit · 6 years ago

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Current State of Bandit Fic:

This is long, so I apologize to everyone on mobile if that read more does not work and you have to scroll through a really long thing you don’t want to read. Sorry!

Completed JTV Fics (by which I mean completed drafts not completed and posted):

Carla

The rough draft is completely finished.

There are fifteen chapters total.

Some of these chapters are really rough and need a lot of editing.

Okay maybe not a lot but definitely some editin.

I plan to post a chapter every other week hopefully on Mondays.

But honestly idk if I’ll keep track of which Mondays I’ve posted a chapter and which I haven’t unless I have something to alternate them with.

Luisa and the Fox

The second draft is completely finished.

It’s off with my betas.

I’ve mostly let it lie fallow for the past month-ish (or maybe only a couple of weeks idk how long it’s been friends), which means I should be able to come at it with new eyes, too.

There are five chapters total.

However, I do currently plan to have a second connected fic that’s half a direct follow-up and half I just want Luisa and the Fox fluff.

Stuff that didn’t really fit into the fic proper (like the freckles scene).

I plan to post a chapter every other week on also hopefully on Mondays.

The plan is to alternate these with Carla chapter updates, but right now I’m waiting on input from at least one of my betas before posting another chapter.

This may change in the future because I’ve been getting antsy for...a lot of reasons.

In-Progress Posted JTV Fics (by which I mean I don’t have a completed draft):

If You Lived Here, You’d Be Home Now

Now that Carla’s rough draft is finished, polls have said to focus on this one.

These chapters are harder, so hoping to do one a month.

But this really depends on how well the chapter is going - y’all probably noticed a longer wait between chapters 7 and 8 because group therapy was a barrier.

Unlike Carla and Luisa and the Fox, this fic doesn’t really have a chapter-by-chapter plan (and even Carla didn’t until those last chapters...mostly).

So I kind of know what I want to happen through the course of the fic and the order of things but sometimes more set-up is required than just jumping around (or maybe it’s not but I feel like it is).

I have no idea how many chapters are left.

At least seventeen, if my current projections are correct, and that’s dealing with stuff that I feel like needs to be in separate chapters (although I may change my mind on that later), not even necessarily including stuff that I want to sprinkle in among other things (Rose meeting with her therapist, scattered Susanna stuff, etc.), which means it might be longer, it might not be.

And like - even with those seventeen - I feel like some of them definitely warrant some cool-down time between or something like that, so guesstimates would project more than that.

Jane: The Real Story

This was second on the polls as far as things y’all wanted me to focus on.

I don’t plan to schedule updates on this one. They may just happen when they happen.

These tend to be less intensive than the IYLHYBHN chapters, and they may fill in the every other week on Mondays slot when Carla is posted, but don’t hold me to that because I would prefer these to be unscheduled.

I also have no idea how many chapters are left.

I do plan on at least getting into s2 and s3 and potentially dealing with some of the stuff happening in s5 - like the Michael has amnesia! bit because that was part of the original post - but this is subject to change.

Mainly I have plans for that Michael bit and then dealing with Susanna and why Luisa and Rose are gone for a while.

And if this turns into Jane quit telling Mateo lies! then we...need an older Mateo.

I don’t know where/when I plan to end this.

This one is super flexible and I intend to leave it being flexible because I like having it that way.

The Adventures of Rose, the Baker’s Daughter

I like writing fairy tales don’t judge me.

This may jump into the every other week on Mondays slot when Luisa and the Fox is posted, but I may just start immediately into the other Luisa and the Fox fic that I mentioned instead. Not sure on that yet.

I don’t know how many chapters are left.

There are at least seven, but just as with IYLHYBHN, that’s stuff I feel should be segmented into chapters and does not include other stuff that might happen between those chapters (like, for instance, I have a couple of general plot point chapters for later but don’t know all of the interconnected stuff). In this case, I’d expect more than seven chapters. If I finish it. Y’all don’t seem too keen on this one.

There’s a lot of uncertains on this one, too, but I think that’s okay because y’all don’t seem too excited for it.

In-Progress Unposted JTV Fics (by which I mean I don’t have a completed draft):

Everything’s Coming Up Rose’s

90s rom-com au that no one really asked for but I’m over 17k deep into writing so you’ll probably get it anyway.

I mean. Technically it was fourth on stuff y’all wanted me to focus on, actually ahead of The Adventures of Rose, sooooooooo. Y’all want it but when it comes down to only getting one option on things, you don’t.

And you certainly don’t want it more than any of the other proposed aus.

Looking at maybe twelve? chapters.

Already wrote the first two and started the third, as well as having a chunk of chapter...7?? written and a bit that maybe shows up in chapter...8?? and another bit that might show up...in one of the earlier chapters maybe but I’m not sure where to put it yet.

The first two chapters are super rough but I like them, and I like this story. A lot. Which is why it kind of hangs out and still shows up on polls.

AND LIKE. I ACTUALLY KNOW THE WHOLE PLOT. DO YOU KNOW HOW RARE THAT IS.

I don’t know when I’ll start posting this one, and since y’all’ve told me y’all want me to focus on other fics in-progress and other aus, this should be lower on my totem pole but. I like it. So it’s not.

Luisa and the Fox: Shenanigans

Continuation of Luisa and the Fox.

No set number of chapters.

This is here for me to have more with these characters because I like them and there was more I wanted to write with them (originally just the freckles scene, but there’s starting to be some other stuff that I kind of have hanging around in my head that I might do) that didn’t really fit into the original story.

Don’t plan on posting these until after Luisa and the Fox is posted for obvious reasons, and this may fall into the every other Mondays slot once Luisa and the Fox is done. I haven’t decided yet.

Brainstorming JTV Fics (by which I mean they’re primarily in the brainstorming stage but they may have a little bit written for them):

Harry Potter AU

The most requested AU on the poll.

Currently projected to have seven multi-chapter books.

Currently planned to be set concurrent with the original series.

Which means it may be more a crossover than an AU. Ish.

I’ve been rereading the original series so as to get a better idea of how things fit together (and the anti-Slytherin stuff and commentary is so big and I don’t think it stops because even if you bring up Snape it’s in context of we sorted him too soon and he should’ve been in Gryffindor so like. THOUGHTS).

This looks like it will be really long if I keep with this idea and write the whole thing.

Please don’t expect this to be finished quickly.

Please expect that I will likely take breaks to write other things.

Focus is on Clara as the viewpoint character.

I’ve made changes to birth years so that Clara and Luisa are born in the same year.

This does put Luisa a year higher in school than Clara, but since they’re in different houses anyway, this doesn’t really present a problem.

I might be overthinking this.

I’ve started outlining the first book.

I paused at chapter twelve because still figuring out the overarching series plot so the first book plot should tie into that.

I do have a general idea of character arcs for Clara/Rose and Luisa over the series and how that plays into what is discovered by the original trio over the series.

I also have a good idea of what happens in the final battle. It’s the externals that’s causing me more problems than the character-character and internals.

I’ve started the first chapter of the first book, but it’s really rough and probably will have a lot of changes.

Hallmark Holiday Special

The second most requested AU on the poll.

Currently I have a general idea of which version I want to go with.

Those of you who were around in November/December know that there were two variations I was playing with. A lot of aspects of those got retooled and put into Everything’s Coming Up Rose’s - and I mean a lot of aspects of both because I took the Rose from one and the Luisa from the other and meshed those together. However, this means I can take the one that plays the Hallmark tropes straight and not worry about the complications I’d originally planned for that because they come up somewhere else, which. lets me play it more straight.

Straight, hah.

Maybe five chapters?

Off the top of my head thinking about where the chapters would break?

Maybe?

Sounds about right?

Because they’re, like, 1.5hr shows with commercial breaks every fifteen minutes, but each commercial break is like five minutes or more, so there’s like. five segments, right? Something like that? My math on this is probably wrong but. five segments? Maybe?

I could probably jump back into writing this (I did start this somewhere in November/December) but I think I want to retool the beginning for other stuff that I think might mesh better than what I initially did. And it needed to be edited and I should rewrite the beginning anyway, so.

This is just backburner as far as writing because do you see all of the other stuff?

Also there’s -- just because I know what needs to happen in each chapter doesn’t mean I actually have concrete plot for each chapter and I kind of want to know the complication before I jump into writing so I can make sure to get that set up properly soooooooooo we’ll see.

The hope is that I have this set and ready to post in July.

Primarily because the idea of Christmas in July makes me happy.

--and you know what. There are five Mondays in July. I could just have this be what I update weekly in July if there are actually five chapters.

Tentative schedule maybe????

University AU

Tied for third most requested AU with canon-compliant soulmate AU, which is below.

Since the poll for prof/prof or student/student is deadlocked at a tie, I plan to go with prof/prof.

To counterbalance the HP AU, which is a really long extended student/student AU. With a whole bunch of other stuff.

I may do a student/student university AU later, but probably not.

My most recent ideas for the student/student university AU combines with the non-canon-compliant soulmate AU and hit some of the same points that IYLHYBHN does but in a different way with different variations. Ish. So because I still have general ideas for that, maybe, maybe not. Unsure.

This is currently being brainstormed.

I have a general idea for how to start this off.

So, like, the first two chapters, maybe? Or, like, a prologue and the first chapter?

I know how I want Rose and Luisa to meet, which would be the second chapter or...not the prologue.

I have a general idea as far as Luisa’s character.

I have less on Rose as far as concrete aspects, but I may get there.

I might jump into this one before the Hallmark Holiday Special just because it’s lingering in that place where you feel like you could be starting off on writing something and it’s there sort of thing?

Idk, it feels like less fluff than the HHS, which still needs some plot straightened out before I feel completely comfortable jumping back into it.

Canon-Compliant Soulmate AU

Tied for third most requested AU with university AU (see above).

I’m not focusing on this right now.

I know people like the one-shot and want a continuation of that, which is why this was on the poll.

I like the one-shot as a one-shot. I think it is complete as a one-shot. I don’t think expanding on that one will actually make it any better.

Which is why, if I revisited the soulmate timer idea, I’d planned on doing it differently and ended up combining it with the university student/student AU idea.

I do not plan on continuing the one-shot but instead want to deal with other soulmate AU tropes if I do another soulmate AU.

Given that I’d rather play with other soulmate AU tropes, I want to look through general ideas. Once one of those stands out to me as something that could mesh better in the long form for something canon-compliant, I can start better brainstorming.

So I guess this is less in the brainstorming stage and more in the idea collecting stage.

I hang out in the RPC, so I should be able to find one of those soulmate tropes posts at some point. And if not, you have all these other things above to look forward to that are getting more focus than this is.

This, of course, doesn’t include any one-shot ideas or the other aus I listed on that poll (I still really want to do the SG/Tick/JTV crossover because I’ve got ideas for that and how that would work), nor does it include any non-JTV fics I may or may not be writing/editing/etc.

So, basically, lots of content if I can get my butt sat down to write it. We’ll see how it goes because, honestly, looking at all of this is intimidating, and like, I’m excited for...most of these projects but. It’s a lot. It’s a lot.

But I just wanted to update y’all on current projections for these.

#musings #bandit does an update #bandit writes fic #carla stuff #luisa and the fox #iylhybhn stuff #luisa and the fox: shenanigans #jtv: the real story #roisa hp au

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bangtaninink · 6 years ago

Note

Can you please write a Vampire!Seokjin AU oh my god I'm literally in need of some new Jin smut that's filled with filth (because I doubt he's as innocent as he puts out 👀)

another anon request: Hello! Can I just say that your writing is absutely superb?! I’m so happy that you’ve made past Jin scenarios/fics (we Jin stans seriously lack wonderful scenarios/stories *cries*). That being said – may I please request a smut fic for the continuation of that BTS vampire!Jin fic AU? I’m dying to know what happens next! Thank you very much!

To Oblivion And Back

Summary: going back to how things used to be isn’t easy, but it’s damn well worth the effort (vampire!au)

Notes: bet y’all thought I forgot about this! (I did. Lowkey. And then I found it in my drafts and wrote like a madman because who doesn’t love vampire!Seokjin? Apologies to the peeps that requested this for taking so long!) I got carried away with this. Like very carried away. When you open that ‘read more’ cut, you’ll see what I mean. Also this is for the anon who was requesting vampire!Jin angst an eternity ago (although I��m not sure how angsty this is).

This is a continuation from this piece right here.

“You guys… got a dog?”

“Yeah. Actually, we’ve had a few dogs over the last couple of centuries. Taehyung hyung seems to like them a lot,” Jeongguk says, crouching down to scratch the top of the dog’s head, smiling fondly at it. “His name is Cat.”

“You named your dog Cat?” you ask, arching your brow.

“It was Taehyung hyung’s idea. We take turns every couple years to choose a dog and a name for it.”

“That is so… Taehyung.”

“Be glad you weren’t there the last time it was his turn.”

“Why?” Jeongguk turns to look at you over his shoulder, and the look on his face is enough for you. “Never mind. I probably don’t wanna know.”

Somewhere in the distance, someone calls Jeongguk’s name, and the both of you turn towards the doors, watching as they eventually open and let Namjoon in.

“Jeongguk.”

“Yeah, hyung?”

“Jin hyung’s looking for you. He said something about you and Jimin getting supplies.” Jungkook groans loudly, standing up and dusting off his knees.

“Again? I’m always on supply duty. No fair. Why can’t Yoongi hyung do it?” he whines.

“If you can find a way to get that particular brother out of his room for something that isn’t feeding or playing the piano, then I will personally offer you my share of food for a week.”

“Ooh. Challenge accepted,” Jeongguk replies, grinning as he runs out of the room. You and Namjoon watch as he disappears out of sight, shaking your heads and chuckling at the youngest’s antics.

“He hasn’t changed a bit,” you say, crouching down to scratch the back of Cat’s ears, just as Jeongguk had been doing.

“Not at all,” Namjoon agrees, sliding his hands into his pocket. “I used to hate the fact that he was turned at such a young age. Now I feel as if it’s not such a bad thing. He’s a breath of fresh air that one, despite all that he’s seen and been through with us.” You hum in agreement, standing back up.

“How’re you doing?” you ask.

“Good. Better. It’s almost as if I’d never been gone. Almost.” You laugh and nod. “And you? How are you doing?”

“I’m…” You pause to find the right words. “I’m fine, actually. I’d prepared myself for the worst before returning here. Seokjin is not the most predictable man out there, after all.” Namjoon hums quietly, walking over to the shelves, fingers running over the spines of dust-covered books. “It’s a slow process, but we’ve progressed more than I’d been expecting. Consider me pleasantly surprised.”

For a moment, a blanket of silence falls over you both, and while Namjoon is busy looking at the new books the family has collected in his absence, you watch Cat sniff curiously at your feet.

“It may not be my place to ask,” Namjoon says, voice cutting through the quiet. “But what did you do for my brothers to distrust you so much all those centuries ago, enough for them to make you leave the house of all things?” You pull your eyes away from the dog jumping up to nip at the hem of your skirt to look at Namjoon, who is already looking right at you, waiting patiently for your reply. “Or… would you rather not say?”

You make your way over to the arm chair by the window, Cat following right behind you and jumping onto your lap as soon as you’re seated.

“I… said things. Did things,” you reply, avoiding Namjoon’s eyes.

“Such as?”

“Namjoon… I’m sorry. I’d rather leave the past in the past. Recalling four centuries of betrayal and disloyalty is not very pleasant.”

“Of course. I understand. I still have visions about the things that happened back there.” You’re busy trying to distract yourself by staring down at Cat’s fur when Namjoon walks over to you, resting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Regardless of what you did, noona, I want to thank you anyway, because it was completely selfless and brave of you to do all that to bring me back to my family.” You look up, and come face to face with Namjoon’s kind and warm smile. “I owe you my life.”

Quiet chatter fills the library, and soft music in the air as Yoongi sits at the piano at the other end of the room, fingers flitting over the keys with practiced ease. Cat seems to have taken a liking to you, chasing after your feet as soon as you’re in sight, and today is no exception. He’s curled up at your feet, body wrapped around your ankle where you’re seated, flipping the pages of a new addition to the family’s collection.

“We haven’t really added much,” Jimin admits as he sits down on the sofa next to you, careful not to knock over the lit candles on the table beside him. “Namjoon hyung’s always been the one to bring in more books.”

“Yeah,” you agree, smiling softly. “Actually, I’m surprised you added any in the first place.”

“It was mostly me and Seokjin hyung. Yoongi hyung added a few music books here and there. But Jeongguk and Taehyung recently got into these things called… manhwa? They’re this century’s picture books essentially.”

“Oh, yes. I’ve heard of those.”

“They call it the ‘best of both worlds’ because, technically, they’re reading, but it doesn’t feel like it.” You chuckle quietly as Jimin rolls his eyes. “Children.”

Shutting the book in your hands, you stand to turn to the shelf behind you and return it to its place, rousing Cat from his nap. Your eyes scan the spines of the books, Cat trailing after you as you wander up and down along the walls of the library, in search of your next read. So absorbed in the myriad of titles, your shoulder collides with Seokjin’s suddenly as he wanders along the wall too in the opposite direction.

“Oh. Pardon me, _____,” he says, offering you a small, tight-lipped smile; you shake your head dismissively in return. Continuing on your way, you don’t notice the way Seokjin’s gaze follows after you, watching as you walk to the other wall, lingering at one shelf before moving on to the next.

“Hyung?” Seokjin’s attention shifts to Jeongguk, who stands beside him, one hand on the elder’s arm, the other clutching an open book. “Hyung, what does this word mean?”

Seokjin reads the word off of the page where Jeongguk points: rambunctious.

“That’s like… noisy and undisciplined. Kind of wild and uncontrollable,” Seokjin explains. “Kind of like you and Taehyung, and how you’re both all over the place.” Jeongguk scoffs and scrunches up his nose, while the elder grins proudly.

“I should’ve asked noona,” Jeongguk mumbles, walking away to drop himself back onto the couch next to Taehyung.

The words leave an acrid taste in your mouth the moment you’ve said them. A sharp pain twinges in your chest that you so desperately try to ignore when you watch everyone’s faces shift from expressions of surprise to betrayal in very little time, and hurts even more to know that you are the reason for it.

“What did you just say?” Seokjin asks.

“You heard me,” you reply, maintaining your composure and resisting the urge to cower, take everything you’ve said back and apologise.

“After everything we’ve done for you…”

“Everything you’ve done for me? Please! You and your family have done nothing but made me miserable. All this whining and moping about Namjoon. Just face it. He’s gone. He’s not coming back. You’ve lost a brother. We’ve all lost someone, Seokjin. That’s just the way things are. So suck it up and move on for God’s sake.”

Eyebrows furrowed, Yoongi shakes his head, looking at you, confused.

“What… what’s gotten into you, noona?” he asks. “This isn’t like you.”

“No, Yoongi. This is me. What you’ve been seeing for the last five centuries has been me pretending to be grateful for your family’s hospitality. But I’m not. I’ve realised now that I would’ve been more than fine on my own. You didn’t have to go and rescue me all those centuries ago. I wouldn’t have wasted five centuries here with the lot of you if you hadn’t.”

You can see the way Seokjin’s jaw tenses as he clenches and unclenches his teeth at all the spite that oozes out of you.

“But… we’ve done so much for you,” Hoseok argues.

“No. I’ve done so much for you,” you correct. “I’ve done more than my fair share of shit around this place without a word of thanks. Well, I’m sick of it. I’m tired of you six wandering around this castle hopelessly just because one of your brothers has gone. I’m tired of having to think of ways to cheer you six up like some kind of jester to take your mind off of things. Just face it. He’s gone. He’s not coming back.”

When Seokjin speaks, a chill runs down your spine at the tone of his voice, and you try not to visibly shiver.

“You know, I tried so hard to ignore it. I tried so hard to think nothing of the way you’d always wander out of the castle whenever you wanted, going God knows where and not returning until minutes before dawn. I thought I’d gone mental when I saw you in town with Hyunwoo.” Ears perk up and eyebrows raise at the name.

“Hyunwoo?” Taehyung repeats. “As in…”

“As in Hyunwoo from the western village, yes,” Seokjin finishes.

“Hyung, you said never to–”

“I know what I said. But, clearly, _____ has forgotten.”

“Those guys are vile, self-absorbed animals with absolutely no remorse or pity for anyone that isn’t in their clan,” Yoongi says. “What are you doing with Hyunwoo, noona?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “Clearly, I’ve found a more accomodating clan, one that’ll actually make me feel like one of their own, and not some fucking maid.”

“B-but… noona, you said…” Jimin says, stammering. “You said you’d help us find Namjoon hyung no matter what.”

You shrug.

“Namjoon’s not worth finding, Jimin.”

As if you’d just swung at them all, the six of them take a step back at your comment, speechless. The looks of disbelief you’re met with are hard to look at, but you steel yourself, and force yourself to maintain eye contact with Seokjin.

It feels as if a whole century passes before anyone says anything.

“Get out,” Seokjin spits. “And never come back.”

“Everyone! Your attention, please!”

Hyunwoo’s words ring out over the loud raucous, and the chatter dies down to almost complete silence at the clan leader’s voice.

“Tonight is a night of celebration,” he says, grinning proudly. “Because tonight, we welcome a new addition to our little family. An alluring, beautiful addition, I must say.” He wraps his arm around your waist, and you pretend you don’t want to run away from his touch immediately, like you don’t have the urge to cringe. “How fortunate that little ol’ me was able to convince her to leave that stupid little family she’d been holed up with for five centuries.” The crowd boos at the mention of another clan; Hyunwoo nods in agreement, but waves his other hand to quiet them down before reaching for his glass. “A toast: to our clan, the strongest, most indestructible group of brothers and sisters this century will ever have the pleasure of being destroyed by.”

Whoops of agreement and joy fill the air as glasses are raised in celebration before flutes of blood are downed to the last drop. You do the same, with a tight-lipped smile as you turn to look at Hyunwoo. He winks and brings his flute to his lips with a proud grin.

Dinner is quieter than it ever has been in centuries.

Jeongguk stares down at his goblet, unable to find the energy to reach out and take a sip, eyes boring holes in the gold trimming and the reflection of the fireplace against the glass.

Yoongi sits slumped in his chair, not bothering to look up at anyone, much less his own goblet, cradling his head in his hand, elbow resting on the arm rest of his chair. He clenches his teeth at the incessant scratching of Taehyung’s nails against the edge of the wood of the table, the sound grating in his ears, quickly turning into an annoyance that leaves him with the urge to reach over the table and grab his brother by the lapels of his coat and shake the life out of him.

Jimin and Hoseok take turns heaving out quiet sighs, chewing at their lips and looking everywhere but at the people seated at the table, unsure of what to do or say.

Only Seokjin, seated at the head of the table, sips at his goblet of blood periodically, staring at the fire with no emotion present on his face.

“And finally, our dungeon,” Hyunwoo announces proudly, waving his arm in front of him, as if displaying a collection of fine jewellery. “I quite like coming down here on days I’m not feeling so confident about things.”

“So… never,” you offer with a quiet chuckle; he replies with hearty laughter, pulling you closer to his side.

“Well. I will admit those days are far and few, _____. But even someone such as myself has their off days.”

“That’s quite hard to believe.”

Hyunwoo grins and leads you down the stairs. The air in the dungeon is cold, stale and wet, and you hear the heels of your boots squelch with every step. You try not to grimace at the stench, and certainly try not to think about what could have caused the stench in the first place.

“It’s not the most pleasant room in the castle,” Hyunwoo says. “But it’s a morale booster for people like me, especially when you take in the sheer number of prisoners we have locked up down here.”

“How many are there?” you ask.

“About eight dozen. We’re aiming for double that by the end of the century.”

“Impressive.”

“Here. Let me take you to one of the prisoners.” Strange sounds fill the air as you pass cell after cell, the sound of rattling chains almost drowned out by the cacophony of strangled moans and wails coming from trapped prisoners. “Here we are.”

Hyunwoo nods at one of the guards standing by, and you watch as he take the keychain attached to his belt, metal colliding against metal as he searches through the keys to find the one that unlocks the cell in front of you. The iron scratches and squeals against the railing on the ground as the guard opens up the cell, stepping aside to allow you and Hyunwoo to step inside.

Your body tenses a little at the sight in front of you.

“A familiar face, no?” Hyunwoo asks, chuckling, kicking at a puddle of water in front of him. Drops of water splash against Namjoon’s face, rousing him to consciousness. You remain stoic as he lifts his head from where he kneels, chains keeping his arms hanging above him, eyes squinting as he tries to register what he sees in front of him.

“N-noona?” he whispers, eyes growing wide when he recognises you.

“Scum,” Hyunwoo spits, stepping forward to bring his hand down across Namjoon’s cheek, the sound of the slap making you flinch a little where you stand. The chains rattle at the impact as Namjoon jostles around. You say nothing, taking in how thin and frail he looks, hair frazzled and messy as he winces at the sting. “You ought to think twice about opening your mouth in front of me.” As if nothing had happened, Hyunwoo is back at your side with a smile, his arm wrapping around your waist once again. “How in God’s name did you stand to live with this one and his family for so long, _____?”

Namjoon lifts his head once more to look at you, and the look in his eyes makes you want to fall to your knees and weep.

Instead, you shrug, and wrap your own arm around Hyunwoo’s waist, turning the both of you to walk out of the cell.

“No idea.”

You stare up at the ceiling, silent as Hyunwoo snores away beside you, his arm heavy on your stomach. The curtains haven’t been closed completely shut, and a tiny sliver of sunlight makes its way into the room just a few feet away from the foot of the bed. Your mind reels, the image of Namjoon chained to the stone walls ingrained in your brain, and it takes so much self control not to run out of the room and down to the dungeon once again to see him.

In the almost-silence, you’re left wondering if this was the best way to go about things, if betraying an entire family to find and rescue their lost brother was the best decision. You could have easily stayed with them, told them about your first encounter with Hyunwoo, and how each successive encounter with him eventually led to you find out about Namjoon’s whereabouts. You could have easily stayed to plan something out with them, because seven would be stronger than just one.

But in the back of your mind, you know that it would have never worked, because between Hoseok’s impulsiveness and Yoongi’s overthinking, the family would either not have gotten anywhere, or would have gone too far and lost even more brothers.

Even if you despise Hyunwoo, this is the way it has to be in order to bring the family back together.

A knock at the door pulls Seokjin’s focus away from the newspaper clippings and print-outs on his desk.

“Come in,” he calls out.

Jimin steps into Seokjin’s study, pulling at the ends of his sleeves to almost completely cover his hands after shutting the door behind him. With hesitation in every step, he walks over to sit down in the armchair directly in front of Seokjin, biting down on his bottom lip.

“Hi, hyung,” he says, voice soft.

“Hello,” Seokjin replies, smiling a little before looking back down at the scraps of paper in front of him. “What brings you in here?”

Jimin is quiet, and for a moment, Seokjin doesn’t seem to notice that he hasn’t been given a reply. Distracted, he sorts through the paper covering his desk, looking for any kind of hint or sign of where his brother might be.

“Hyung.”

“Mmm?” Seokjin hums, not even looking up to meet Jimin’s eyes.

“Hyung, what if… do you ever wonder if… i-if noona was right?” Seokjin freezes, a clipping from last week’s newspaper held between his fingers as the room is shrouded in a cloak of silence. “It’s… i-it’s been a century and a half. What if we’ve been wasting our t–”

“Don’t, Jimin,” Seokjin interrupts, hands slowly starting to ball up into fists. “Don’t you dare. This is our brother we’re talking about, understand?”

“I know. I know, hyung. But, noona… she…”

“She was wrong. I don’t know what’d gotten into her that day, but she was wrong – she is wrong. We’re gonna find Namjoon, with or without her help.”

Hesitant, Jimin tugs at the sleeves of his sweater again, too nervous to look Seokjin in the eye when the tension is thick in the air. He can feel the elder’s frustration radiating off of him, slapping him in the face without warning, and Jimin takes this as his cue to go.

“Okay,” he says quietly. “Okay, hyung. We’ll find him.”

“We’ll find him,” Seokjin replies, no longer able to read the words on the clipping in his grasp through the tears welling up in his eyes.

Namjoon hears the clicking of heels against the cement ground growing louder and louder, until eventually, they come to a complete stop. He hears quiet murmurs of incoherent words, recognises the two voices, but says nothing. The metal door of his cell makes a grating screech against the railing as it’s pulled open, and he still keeps his head down.

“Namjoon.”

That voice has his mind reeling and a strange combination of emotions stirring in the pit of his stomach. He doesn’t know what to do or how to react.

“Namjoon, it’s me.”

Slowly, you crouch down in front of him, reaching out to cup his cheek. Unexpectedly, he turns his head away, and avoids looking at you as best as he can while he’s still chained to the wall.

“Namjoon. It’s me,” you repeat, trying not to sound as desperate as you feel.

“Is it?” he asks, voice raspy and hoarse. “Because you’re not exactly the _____ noona I remember.”

“I know.”

It’s quiet for a moment, with just the distant sounds of more chains rattling and more screaming to keep you both company. Namjoon is the first to speak after the silence.

“What do you want?”

Warily, you look over your shoulder, making sure the guard has left like you’d asked him to, making sure that you and Namjoon are completely alone.

“I’m getting you out of here,” you say.

At this, Namjoon does lift his head to look at you, albeit slowly. He sees the determination in your eyes, the promise engrained in between your words, and for a moment, his doubt wavers, all of a sudden convinced that his old _____ noona had never left.

“What?”

“I’m getting you out of here,” you repeat, reaching into the neckline of your dress to pull out a flask you’d tucked away, shuffling closer to Namjoon as you unscrew the cap. “I apologise for taking so long, but you have to understand that I couldn’t rush this. I had to take my time, make sure that Hyunwoo had no reason to doubt or suspect me of anything.”

Namjoon is quick to wrap his lips around the lip of the flask, tilting his head back to gulp down mouthfuls of blood like the literal starved man he was. It’s not enough, you know it’s not enough, but it’ll do for now. You card your fingers through his sweat-soaked fringe as he sighs and pants, letting him rest his head in your palm as you support him.

“I’m so hungry, noona,” he whispers, eyes fluttering shut as you rub circles on his temple.

“I know, Namjoon. I’ll come down to visit you more regularly from here, now that Hyunwoo’s out of town.”

His eyes open again slowly, and he looks at you with furrowed eyebrows.

“What do y– we’re not leaving now? Tonight?”

“We can’t, Namjoon. Not yet,” you reply with a small shake of your head. “Hyunwoo left just after twilight. He’s not far enough yet. We need to wait a little longer. You can do that for me, can’t you? We’ve already gotten this far.” Namjoon sighs.

“How long?”

“Two more days. Just two more days and I’ll get you out of here. I’ll bring you back to your brothers.”

Namjoon swallows thickly, feeling his throat start to tighten a little at the mention of his family. He blinks away the dampness that’s starting to form in his eyes, and nods.

“Yeah, noona. I can wait,” he says. “It’s been four centuries. What’s another two days?”

For the most part, Minjae leaves you be, lets you wander the castle without supervision because, frankly, he has more important things to do than to keep an eye on you when all you do is sit in the library and read. As Hyunwoo’s second-in-command, he’d raised no complaints to your addition to the clan for fear of losing his rank, though he had been anything but approving of the leader’s decision. Now, after four centuries, he maintains his doubts, but ignores them in favour of saving his time to do more important things than worry about Hyunwoo’s new companion.

He’d heard about you (almost everyone had), and about your family’s nobility pre-vampirism, the closest the country had to royalty all those centuries ago. He’d heard of your family’s downfall, of the massacre that had consumed everyone but yourself in some stroke of fate, and later, of your salvation. It was no surprise for Minjae to learn of Hyunwoo’s desire to find you, his leader always so greedy and hungry for nothing but the best – and you, (un)fortunately, were the best.

Minjae passes the open doors of the library during his routine inspection of the castle, and isn’t surprised to find you already sitting in the velvet-lined armchair. What he is surprised about is the way you call for his attention.

“Minjae?” you say, peering over the book in your hand. “A word, if you have a moment.”

The wood creaks as he pushes the door open a little further to step inside, the heels of his boots clicking against the wooden floorboards.

“Yes?”

“May I ask, how old is this castle?”

Minjae arches an eyebrow, but answers nevertheless.

“Master Hyunwoo dates it around the thirteenth century. It’s been in his family since the sixteenth century. Why do you ask?”

You shrug, and lower your eyes back down to the book in your hands.

“No reason in particular.” You can tell Minjae is unconvinced, and you chuckle softly, turning the page. “There are a lot of books in here about architecture. I suppose it just never occurred to me to ask Hyunwoo about it until now.”

“I’m sure Master Hyunwoo would be more than happy to discuss the castle’s origins with you in more detail when he returns on the twelfth.” You glance up at him, and watch as he adjusts his sleeves and lapels of his suit jacket. “Will that be all, _____?”

“Yes. Thank you, Minjae. Don’t let me take up anymore of your time.”

“It would be wise for you to consider heading back to your room soon. Sunrise is just four hours away.”

“Namjoon? Namjoon.”

Chains rattle as Namjoon stirs at the sound of your quiet whispers, and he watches as you take extra care in opening his cell door, careful not to make too much noise. You leave just enough space for yourself to step through, clutching the knapsack in your arms close to your chest.

“Noona?” he whispers back. You shush him quietly, and drop to your knees in front of him, putting the knapsack down by your side. “Is it time? Are we leaving now?”

“Yes.”

It’s as if four centuries of fatigue dissipate from his body at the single word, and his chains rattle again as he suddenly becomes alert. He watches as you reach into your dress and pull out a key, standing to unlock his wrists, holding your arms out to catch him as he stumbles.

“Christ almighty,” he sighs, leaning against you as the ache in his arms and shoulders becomes all too apparent all of a sudden.

“I’m afraid we cannot waste any time, Namjoon,” you say, reaching into the knapsack to pull out a bottle much larger than the vials and flasks you’d been secretly feeding him before. “Drink this – all of it. You’re going to need your strength.”

Namjoon has no complaints, and wastes no time in taking the bottle from you, uncorking the top and downing almost half without a breath. You wait for him to finish every drop of blood in the bottle before you’re reaching into the knapsack again, pulling out a pile of freshly pressed clothing and thrusting it into his arms.

“Get dressed. Quick as you can. Hurry. We don’t have much time. Sunrise is approaching.”

You can feel Namjoon’s breaths grazing against your ear as you both stand still, backs pressed to the cold stone walls of the castle. This is now or never, and you both know it.

“There’s a cave,” you whisper. “Just a mile down that path between the oaks. If we’re quick, we’ll make it before the sun rises. From there, we can wait ‘til tomorrow’s twilight to move again. The city centre is just less than fifty miles from there. We can get there on foot in two days, less if we’re quick. Once we get to the city centre, we’ll be able to find safe passage.”

“How do you know all this, noona?” Namjoon asks, eyes shifting left and right warily.

“I spent the last four centuries turning Hyunwoo’s library inside and out ever since I found out he came from a family of cartographers. Fortunately for us, he seems to have inherited his family’s love of maps and collects them, and continues to update his collection with more accurate ones that detail new routes and paths he and his clan can take. It seems he uses his highly accurate maps to find discreet ways to approach those small towns and villages and ambush them.”

“Do you remember everything? Where we have to go?”

“I have them with me,” you reply, pointing towards the knapsack to emphasise your point. “All of Hyunwoo’s maps from the last quarter-century are on my back right now. He keeps them hidden away in a chamber in his study, and he never takes them with him when he travels, just in case he, by some off chance, encounters some kind of problem. He won’t risk having his maps stolen from him and give his enemy the upper hand.”

“So how does he know where to go?”

“He studies his maps about a week and a half in advance before he plans to travel, locks himself away in his study for hours on end to memorise different routes he can lead his men through.”

“And… how did you get the maps, noona?”

With pursed lips, you turn to look at Namjoon over your shoulder, biting the inside of your cheek.

“That’s not important right now, Namjoon. What matters is that I get you back home.”

“Did you hear?” Hoseok says, looking around the table. “One of the villages in Ulsan was attacked last night. Gosan, I think it was.”

“Attacked?” Taehyung repeats. “By who?”

“Tch. Who else?” Yoongi mutters, picking at the chipped varnish on the edge of the table.

“That’s the furthest Hyunwoo’s ever gone,” Jeongguk says, eyebrows furrowed. “What is he trying to do, destroy the entire country?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Jimin replies, sighing and leaning back into his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and sinking deeper into the cushions. “He’s a greedy motherf–”

“Language, Jimin.”

All eyes turn to Seokjin, who doesn’t take his gaze away from the fire, licks of orange and yellow reflected in his pupils. His goblet of blood remains completely untouched, rested on the arm of his chair as he damn near stares at the fire without blinking once.

“Um… hyung?” Jeongguk asks, voice soft and full of hesitation. Seokjin doesn’t answer, but Jungkook continues anyway. “What’re we gonna do?”

“What do you mean by that, Jeongguk?”

“Hyung, it’s… it’s been four centuries. Four hundred years. All we’ve done is sit here and mope.”

“Jeongguk…” Hoseok warns, watching Seokjin’s jaw tense up.

“We’ve done nothing,” Jeongguk continues, clearly growing frustrated as he stands, hands slamming down onto the table. “We did no searching, no running around town asking if anyone’s seen Namjoon hyung or heard of anything. We’ve barely left the house since he’s disappeared, and look what we’re doing now: just sitting around the table twiddling our thumbs.”

“Jeongguk, stop,” Jimin says, but his voice is too quiet to be heard over Jeongguk.

“Hyung’s gone. Noona’s gone. If we’re not gonna do anything, we might as well go stand out in the sun and crisp up like some fucking fried chicken.”

“Jeon Jeongguk,” Seokjin says, rising to his feet. “Sit your fucking ass d–”

“He’s right,” Yoongi interjects. The whole room turns towards Yoongi, who’s straightened up in his seat, hands resting in his lap.

“What did you say?”

“I said, Jeongguk’s right, hyung. And you know it.” Eyes shift from the elder to the second-in-command back and forth, tension growing in the air with each passing silent second.

“Hyung,” Taehyung says, voice sounding strangled and strained.

“I know it’s the last thing you want to be hearing out loud,” Yoongi continues, rising to his feet calmly. “But this might be it from now on: the six of us, for the rest of our existence. They might come back; they might not. We have no way of knowing. Wouldn’t it just be easier to accept that they’re not here anymore? Save yourself the turmoil, hyung. You can’t spend the rest of eternity looking for something that can’t or doesn’t want to be found.” With slow but resolute steps, Yoongi makes his way over to where Seokjin stands with his head hanging low, resting a hand on the elder’s shoulder. “Hyung.”

Without warning, Seokjin falls back into his seat, hiding his face in his hands as sobs start to spill from his lips, shoulders trembling under Yoongi’s touch. The sound of Seokjin’s crying echoes throughout the room, his brothers quick to push away their chairs and join him at the head of the table, arms overlapping Yoongi’s as he leans down to hug Seokjin. At the elder’s feet, Jeongguk furiously wipes at his cheeks, face crumpled in anguish as reality finally starts to dawn on them all: this could be it.

The cave is cold, the stone walls damp with condensation. You and Namjoon have tucked yourselves away in the deepest part, careful to avoid the sunlight as the sun begins to rise, filling half of the cave before it’s even fully risen. Namjoon is panting quietly beside you, head resting on your shoulder as fatigue starts to set in, not used to expelling so much energy anymore. You drop your knapsack down at your side to wrap your arms around him, helping him settle into your side comfortably and catch his breath.

“Alright?” you ask. He nods his head once in confirmation with a soft sigh. “Get some sleep, Namjoon. I’ll wake you when it’s time to leave.”

“What about you?” he asks, concerned.

“I’m fine.”

“You are now, noona. What about later?” You chuckle quietly.

“I’ll be fine,” you reply, carding your fingers through his hair. “Just get some rest.”

Seokjin watches as the tiny sliver of sunlight that peeks through a distant gap in the curtains starts to fade away, turning his head to stare up at the ceiling as his room gradually begins to grow dark. He hasn’t been counting, but it’s been four centuries, three years, six months and seventeen days since Namjoon’s been missing, and four centuries, one month and twenty six days since you left. It’s been agony, slow and painful torture to watch his family crumble before his very eyes, and he’s spent so long trying to pick up the pieces, remould them, and bring it back together again.

He tries not to think about you. He tries not to let his mind wander when everyone is seated at the table, and there are two very obvious vacant seats. He tries not to dwell on the thought that his bed seems too big for him, and that he’s no longer fighting anyone for the sheets. Seokjin doesn’t allow his mind to wander to the ‘what ifs’, but when he’s left alone to simmer in his thoughts, he can’t help but wonder if he’s being delusional thinking he can still smell you on his pillows.

With a sigh, Seokjin rolls over and sits up, rubbing the fatigue from his face with his hands. It’s hell on Earth, knowing that every day he wakes up without a new lead on his brother’s whereabouts is a waste. It’s admirable, though, his perseverance, he thinks, that after four centuries he has still not given up hope. Still, Yoongi’s words continue to ring in his ears, and since that night, Seokjin has wondered if it’s time to give the hunt up, to let things be.

The near silent house starts to become filled with noise as he gets dressed, and he can hear the tell-tale shuffling of Yoongi’s feet against the hardwood floors outside, on his way to the library to start playing his piano as he always does upon waking. He’s just managed to slide his slippers onto his feet when he hears the distinct sound of glass shattering somewhere in the direction of the kitchen, followed by the poorly hushed voices of Jimin, Taehyung and Jeongguk. Despite himself, Seokjin chuckles quietly, and leaves his room.

“Namjoon? Are you okay?”

“Huh?” You watch as Namjoon blinks, as if pulled out of a trance, turning to look at you. “Oh. Yes, I’m fine, noona. It’s just… it’s nice.”

You hum, understanding.

“It’s been four centuries. A lot has changed, hasn’t it?”

“Yes. And yet, at the same time, the city’s exactly the same. It’s astounding.”

The both of you chuckle, watching as clusters of people rush right past you both. It’s as if the both of you are invisible, the way people pay no mind to you standing by.

“We should get you something to drink,” you say, holding onto Namjoon’s sleeve. “Come. There’s a nice cafe just a few blocks from here.”

“Hello?” Jimin frantically waves a hand in front of Taehyung’s face, who is currently zoned out at the dining table. “Tae? Hello?”

“What, Chim?” Taehyung says, deadpan.

“Wow. What happened to you?”

“I’m thinking.”

“That’s a first,” Yoongi scoffs, turning the page of his newspaper.

“Shut up, hyung. This is big.”

“How big?” Jimin asks, eyebrows furrowed. “Like, ‘I nearly dropped that figurine that Hoseok hyung pretends he doesn’t like that much but secretly loves it’ big, or ‘I nearly scratched Yoongi hyung’s piano playing with Jeongguk’s new remote-controlled car’ big?”

Taehyung shakes his head. “Bigger,” he replies.

“What could be bigger than you almost damaging my baby?” Yoongi asks, frowning.

Jimin’s confusion grows when Taehyung sighs, scratching his head and slouching in his seat.

“I think… call me crazy, but… I think I saw Namjoon hyung yesterday.”

Yoongi freezes, mid-page turn.

“You what?”

“I don’t know. I’m not a hundred percent certain I did. I don’t know if I was hallucinating because it was almost sunrise, or if it was because I drank some bad blood, but… it really looked like him. A-and _____ noona. I think.”

The three of them exchange looks silently.

“Where?” Jimin asks.

“The city centre. I was waiting for Jeongguk outside that cool animal cafe that just opened up.”

“Have you told Seokjin hyung about this?” Yoongi asks, sitting up and putting his newspaper down. Taehyung shakes his head.

“I don’t even know if I really did see him. I don’t want to get his hopes up. You know how hyung’s been over the last four centuries.”

It’s quiet in the library, and somewhere in the distance, they can hear the tapping of Cat’s claws out in the hallway as he trails after Jeongguk.

“Jesus,” Jimin mutters. “Jesus, hyung. Could you imagine? If Taehyung really did see Joonie hyung? Four centuries later?”

“Don’t say a word of this to Seokjin hyung,” Yoongi cuts in, jaw tense.

“What? Why n–”

“Jimin, don’t. At least not until we get some more information, or some kind of confirmation that Taehyung really saw what he saw.”

“He’s right,” Taehyung agrees. “We can’t give this house false hope – we can’t give Seokjin hyung any false hope.”

“Right.”

“Four centuries,” Jimin repeats, sighing and sitting back. “Four centuries of nothing, and then all of a sudden, there’s a possibility he just… appears like that…”

“Taehyung, try not to buy anything that isn’t a necessity this time, please,” Seokjin says, handing Taehyung money with a warning look.

“I mean, I can’t guarantee anything, hyung. The latest edition of me and Jeongguk’s favourite manhwa just came out a couple days ago,” Taehyung replies, smiling innocently.

“Hyung, if you come back without it, you’re dead to me,” Jeongguk says, poking his head out from behind Seokjin.

“Technically, we’re all dead, so…” Jeongguk rolls his eyes. “But, you got it, bro.”

“I’m coming with you.”

Everyone’s heads turn towards the door where Yoongi steps out of the library, buttoning up his coat, eyebrows rising with surprise.

“This is a first,” Seokjin says, chuckling softly. Yoongi shrugs.

“I’m uninspired. Figured a nice walk would clear my head a little,” he says, casting a brief look towards Taehyung.

“Well. I’m not going to argue with that. I’ve been trying to figure out a way to get you out of the house for the last century already. Taehyung could use an extra pair of hands. I heard from Mr. Yang that he almost dropped an entire week’s supply last month.”

“In my defence,” Taehyung cuts in. “There was a really cute dog that walked past the store.”

“That’s some weak defence, hyung,” Jeongguk snickers.

“Keep an eye on him,” Seokjin says quietly to Yoongi.

“Of course, hyung.”

It’s a quiet walk to the city centre, a heavy blanket of tension and anticipation hanging over Yoongi and Taehyung. Questions rest on the tip of Taehyung’s tongue, desperate to cut through the silence between them, but he holds back, knowing that one look at the elder’s face is enough to tell him that he’s deep in thought. It’s no secret why Yoongi had decided to accompany him, and there’s a part of Taehyung that’s relieved to have him of all people at his side – as the most rational thinker in the house, if anyone can confirm or deny Taehyung’s claims, it’s Yoongi.

It’s as busy as ever in the city centre, waves of people coming and going quicker than Yoongi can keep up with. He pays no mind to anyone else, however, eyes sharp and on the look out. He knows what he’d told Taehyung and Jimin, that to instil false hope on the house could potentially be more damaging to the family than ever before, but intuition tells him that there might be some truth to Taehyung’s story.

The supply pick-up is quick, as standard as ever, with nothing out of the ordinary occurring. Yoongi barely bats a lash at the way the case of the coven’s monthly blood supply is thrust into his arms before Taehyung is running into the bookstore, returning with significantly less change and a brand new book in his hands. Taehyung, too, makes no complaints when Yoongi stops them at a nearby cafe for a little while, under the guise that he was not used to so much walking anymore.

Taehyung jokes about Yoongi’s age, and the elder doesn’t even have the heart to reprimand him – in fact, he chuckles a little at the jab.

Nothing happens. Dawn begins to approach, and, defeated, Yoongi and Taehyung realise that to stay out any longer is futile. The walk back home is just as quiet as ever, Yoongi having to pull Taehyung out of the way of approaching bicycles and cars here and there as the younger gets a head start on the manhwa over Jeongguk.

“Taehyung, put that down, please,” Yoongi says, sighing as he bows apologetically once more to the driver of a passing car. “Can’t you wait until we’re home? We’re only a block away. Watch where you’re w–”

Confused by Yoongi abrupt halt, Taehyung looks up from the page, confused by the look on the elder’s face.

Until he follows his line of sight.

The book falls to the dirt-covered ground, the case of blood following suit.

Namjoon chuckles softly at the expressions on his brothers’ faces. It’s a tired sound, but filled with relief. In any other situation, you’d find the whole thing emotional, but with dawn approaching, with Namjoon and yourself in need of a feed, you can’t find yourself feeling anything but anxious.

“Please tell me that’s blood in there,” you say, eyeing the case at Yoongi’s feet. Taehyung scrambles at lightning speed to step into action, albeit with shaking hands, to unlock the case and grab two bags of blood, running over to where Namjoon and yourself stand, Namjoon’s arm draped over your shoulders as you help support his weight. “Yoongi. A hand, please.”

Yoongi is at Namjoon’s other side before you can even finish, draping his other arm across his shoulders.

“I new it,” Taehyung mutters, voice wavering as he helps Namjoon drink, eyes already damp. “I k-knew I saw you two.”

“You should’ve said hi then,” you joke quietly. Only Namjoon laughs.

You watch as he turns to Yoongi, nuzzling his nose against the side of the elder’s head.

“Long time no see, hyung.”

Jeongguk is hungry for blood pudding.

Determined steps take him to the second floor, headed towards you and Seokjin’s room, desperate for his older brother’s recipe book.

A firm hand stops him at the top of the stairs.

“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you,” Hoseok says, a grim look on his face.

“Wh– why not, hyung?” Jeongguk asks, frowning. “I just wanted to ask Jin hyung for his recipe book.”

“Trust me, Jeongguk. Not right now.” Hoseok continues before Jeongguk can protest any more. “Noona’s in there too.” Hoseok watches the younger’s face morph into one of pure realisation.

“Oh, gross!”

“Yep.”

“Damn it. I’m hungry though. I really want some blood pudding, but it’s too late to go to the city and buy some from Mrs. Lee.”

“Damn. Blood pudding sounds pretty good right now. But you won’t be able to ask for that recipe book until tomorrow by the sounds of things,” Hoseok says, draping an arm across Jeongguk’s shoulders, leading the younger back downstairs.

“Do you know how to make blood pudding?”

“Google exists for a reason, doesn’t it?”

“Sweetheart?”

“Yes, sweetheart?” you reply, grinning.

“You’re treading a very fine line right now,” Seokjin says, jaw tense. You chuckle.

“Oh? What’s on either side of the line, honey?”

He glances down, and swallows hard at the sight of you, with your hair tussled, lipstick slightly smudged, dressed in nothing but one of his silk shirts.

“My self control, and my lack of,” he replies, swallowing thickly. You hum softly, sitting up to situate yourself on his hips, hands smoothing down his bare chest, fingers curling just slightly to drag your nails along his skin. Seokjin inhales sharply at the slight tingle your nails leave in their wake.

“I think I know which side of the line I want you to be on,” you say, smiling sweetly.

“No you don’t,” he counters, taking hold of your wrists, holding them down on your thighs.

“Of course I do. Don’t you remember Venice?”

“God,” he groans, recalling the past. “Venice.”

“Didn’t you have a great time in Venice with me, darling? Because I had a fantastic time with you.”

You lean back down, lips brushing over the vein that protrudes from his neck, warm breath fanning over his skin. You watch Seokjin’s throat shift with another thick swallow, grinning as you press a kiss to his pulse.

“Well…”

Bingo. You know you’ve won.

“Since you mentioned Venice…”

You gasp when you feel your bodies being flipped over, laughing breathlessly when your head hits the pillow, Seokjin hovering over you with a giddy smile.

“I miss Venice,” he says, peppering kisses all over your face, making you giggle at how ticklish it all feels. “We should go again.”

“With or without your brothers?” you ask, gasping again when his tongue laves at your jaw.

“Without,” he replies immediately. You hum, holding back a smile.

“Wow. When did the great Kim Seokjin get so selfish?”

“Obviously being separated from you for four centuries did things to me, _____.”

“You big softie,” you coo.

“I am anything but right now, honey.”

“I can feel that. But you must’ve gotten slower in your old age, Jinnie. You’re taking an awfully long time to do anything.”

“You can’t just let me enjoy this?” he groans, frowning against your shoulder.

“But, Jinnie,” you whine. You hold back another grin when he sighs against your skin.

“I hate when you do that.”

“Why?”

“Makes me feel like I’ll say yes to anything you want.”

“You’d say yes even if I didn’t whine.”

“You know what? I hate that you know me so well, _____,” Seokjin says.

“No you don’t.”

“Yeah. No I d–” You cut him off before he can finish, tilting your head to press your lips to his, forcing him to lose his train of thought. It doesn’t take long for his grip on your wrists to loosen enough for you to be able to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly close, the weight of his torso heavy on yours.

The tip of your tongue brushes along his fangs, moaning at the way they graze against you before Seokjin is biting down gently on your bottom lip. He cradles your head in one hand, the other sliding down your chest and stomach. His lips move surprisingly slow for someone who’d been impatient not even a minute ago, tongue gently sliding against yours with a slight curl to coax it out, and you know that it won’t be long now before the tables will be turning and you will become the impatient one losing all your self control.

“Jinnie,” you moan, pushing your head back into the pillows, lips shiny and slick with spit, a beautiful shade of red that Seokjin spends a moment admiring. He looks down and holds back a groan, because the silk of his shirt on your frame does nothing to hide the curves and contours of your body, and he watches as your chest rises and falls underneath him.

Seokjin reaches up to unbutton the shirt agonisingly slow, and he grins silently at the way you squirm, fingertips touching every inch of your soft, supple skin as it’s exposed, because just as you’d suspected, you’ve now lost your ability to control your desire, restless beneath his gaze and touch as Seokjin takes his time in undressing you. A soft whimper bubbles in your throat, but he quiets you down with a kiss to your neck, teeth grazing along the goosebumps that rise in their wake, letting the whimper morph into a surprised gasp.

He takes a deep breath in, letting the scent of you intoxicate him and cloud his senses until all he can think about is you, and the way your body feels in his hold. Seokjin feels your legs wrap around his waist, the heels of your feet digging into the small of his back when you push your hips up to knock against his, hoping to signal your need for more.

“Patience is a virtue, sweetheart,” he whispers in your ear, laughing lowly.

“I waited four centuries, darling,” you reply. “Haven’t I been patient enough?”

He hums quietly, pushing the silk off your body to fall at your side and expose you to the air of his room, watching you shiver a little. You watch Seokjin shuffle down, pressing kisses down your shoulder and collarbone, travelling lower until his mouth hovers over your breast. Your breaths are shaky when his fangs brush against your nipple, one hand squeezing your other breast, fingertips pushing dimples into your skin, and it’s all so much, but not enough.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” Seokjin asks, words muttered against your nipple. “Anything you want, I’ll give it to you.”

“You,” you whine, back arching off the bed when his hips roll against yours. “Always you. Only you. Fuck, I want you, Jinnie. Please.”

You hear Seokjin groan, forehead resting in your cleavage, and then before you can even blink, he’s pushed himself down lower, lying in between your legs, already so close to your heat that you don’t have time to process anything quick enough.

“Only me?” he repeats, warm breath brushing against your skin.

“Only you,” you whisper, nodding shakily.

“I love you, _____.”

“I-I lo--”

He doesn’t let you finish, and everything seems to happen so much quicker after that. You barely have the time to recover from the way he pushes a finger into you, and then another, and then another, all while he sucks fervently on your clit and licks hungrily at your folds. You reach down to tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging gently and urging him on.

Seokjin seems to be just as -- if not, more -- impatient than you, not continuing on for more than a minute before he’s pushing himself up onto his knees, not taking his fingers out of you when he leans down to press his lips to yours, kissing you hungrily, urgently. You kick the sheets off the bed, moaning when Seokjin takes hold of you to sit you up, frantically tugging his silk shirt off your frame to leave you both completely naked.

“Turn around for me,” he whispers; you bite down on your lip, trying to not seem too excited by what’s to come as you scramble to get on your hands and knees in front of him.

A little shiver runs down your spine at the way his hand smooths down your back and down the curve of your ass, your eyes shutting involuntarily at his touch.

“God, you’re so beautiful, _____.”

Seokjin leans down, the warmth of his chest like fire on your skin, pressing kisses to your shoulders as he pushes into you. The both of you groan, and you throw your head back against his shoulder, lips parting as he mouths at your neck.

Seokjin lets out a shaky breath when he’s fully sheathed inside of you, trying to maintain his composure but failing steadily, the way your walls clench around his cock doing nothing to help. You keen beneath him, letting out a whine as you wiggle your hips against his, stopping when you feel a firm hand grip your waist.

“Don’t,” he says, trying to sound firm, but his voice errs on the edge of a whine. “If you keep doing that, I’m not gonna last much longer, _____.”

“I don’t care, baby,” you say, reaching up to curl an arm around his neck and press kisses to any inch of his jawline that you can reach. “Give it to me.”

You push your hips back again, despite his hold on you, and Seokjin groans once again, moving his hand from your waist to reach around and hold you close, giving an experimental thrust of his hips.

You gasp, before letting it turn into a moan, and Seokjin lets his hesitation dissolve, slowly building a steady rhythm with his thrusts. You feel your body start to rock beneath him, and you let go of his neck to plant your hand back down on the bed to steady yourself and keep you up, legs starting to tremble with the hint of your release slowly creeping up on you.

Seokjin’s fingers dig into your stomach, his breaths ragged against your back as he feels your walls continually clench around him. He digs his fangs into his tongue, trying to tamper down loud growls that threaten to spill from his lips, fully aware that the both of you are not alone in the house right now.

“Let me hear you, sweetheart,” you say, as if you’d read his mind.

“But -- fuck -- t-the others...” he replies weakly.

“Forget about them,” you say, turning to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Forget about them, Jinnie. I want to hear you. I want them to hear you.”

“God.” Seokjin throws his head back and groans quietly, hips still moving, before leaning back down to rest his head between your shoulders.

“Tell me how good I feel, Jinnie.”

“You feel -- ah -- fucking divine, _____,” he growls, hips picking up their pace as he starts to rock into you faster. “So good, sweetheart. Y-you’re mine. All mine.”

“I’m -- ah! -- yours, baby. Only yours,” you moan, loud enough to fill the room. “Always fuck me so well, Jinnie. Want you to fill me up.”

“God, yes. G-gonna fill you up ‘til your dripping.”

“Please.”

Seokjin’s hips move fast, cock thrusting in and out of you hard enough to have your moans stuttering as you keen, trying to match his pace and thrust back to meet him halfway. You fall to your elbows, back arching in a way that drives Seokjin’s cock in deeper into you, forcing a low, guttural growl to fill the room, no doubt being heard by the other occupants of the house outside too.

You bite down on your bottom lip, fangs digging into your flesh as you roll your hips and muffle a moan against the pillow beneath you, feeling the heat in your lower stomach build, the tension growing with each thrust into you.

Seokjin straightens up, hands gripping your hips and finding leverage to drive himself into you harder and deeper, throwing his head back with another growl, losing his rhythm for a split second when you clench your walls for a moment longer.

“Jinnie,” you whimper, hands gripping the pillows tightly. “I-I...”

Before you can say anything else, he pulls you up onto your knees and flush against his body, arms wrapped around your waist to hold you close. You can’t speak coherently anymore, head resting back against Seokjin’s shoulder, moans loud and unrestrained.

“I’ve got you, baby,” Seokjin whispers, lips pressed to your cheek as he continues to thrust up into you with a new found enthusiasm, headboard banging rhythmically against the bedroom wall. “Come for me.”

Your knees start to grow weak as the heat in your stomach builds, thighs trembling, chest rising and falling rapidly until you freeze in Seokjin’s arms, the tension exploding as you reach your peak and climax.

Seokjin can’t hold back any further, egged on by the way you call out his name, moaning loud enough to be heard outside of the bedroom. You whimper at the warmth that fills you when his hips completely still, and he lets out a shaky breath against your neck as he hugs you close.

“I love you,” you whisper, panting and pressing a kiss to Seokjin’s cheek.

Yoongi groans once again when his fingers slip and press down on the wrong keys.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters under his breath, scowling as he looks up at the ceiling, hoping that his negativity permeates through the walls and into you and Seokjin’s shared room. “I need to move out.”

#kim seokjin #jin #bts #bangtan #bts scenarios #vampire!au #r #anon

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gfdatingsim · 6 years ago

Text

So…

@robinthegreenbird submitted:

I’ve played both routes ((haven’t perfected any yet lol)) and I just wanted to say, That this is easily one of my favorite games. Also I have a question what parts did you make? Once again I love this game so much!

rosie: thank you so much!! making the game was a lot of fun so i’m glad you’ve enjoyed it :) my parts of the game were ford’s last two dates – mabel’s dinner date of dreams and sunset confessions. writing those two was super fun!!

i knew i wanted a special mabel-ified date (as she is my favorite character) so i incorporated her into the dinner date i planned for the player and ford– with her extra bits of pizazz on top, of course. when i wrote the meteor shower part at the end, i was in a rough patch and wanted some love and that good good validation, so i let ford give it to me, lmao. as the second-last date of ford’s route, i wanted it to be special and sweet, with ford’s affection toward the player really evident and confirmed, in a way, so it wasn’t just longing glances and blushing for the entire route lmao. it was originally the mabel-match date, but sovo swapped the schedules around and i think it works even better!

the pool date was more of a challenge. the last date of the route, the team and i agreed it had to be more of a serious one– one for ford to feel comfortable opening up to the player about everything that’s happened to him, not just what he told them on the dinner date, yanno? all about weirdmageddon and that business. writing angst isn’t really my forte – so thank you phoe for helping me write that nonsense– but we needed it to be important and kinda heavy on ford’s end, with the end of the game almost relying on how the player reacted to his story. all the seriousness got to me though so the option to jump in the pool was my executive decision eyyy

i also wrote the two between-y bits with mabel and dipper – pancakes and interrogations and the fine summer’s wedding! i wrote those just before the game came out, but since i was still in the middle of my college semester, it took me a bit longer… which is why poor sovo had to do a large chunk of the editing themselves, which i do apologize for;; but even with all the mad stress and load on their shoulders, they did a phenomenal job with everything they had to take on, and this project wouldn’t be the same– well, it wouldn’t even exist– without them!

i hope this answered your question, if not a bit wordy. i am a writer after all. thank you for playing! <3

sovo: I worked on all the programming, a bunch of background art, the GUI, Stan’s driving sprites, playtesting, writing, editing, managing, you name it. As you can imagine, at times this project really stressed me out!

The worst of it was probably the editing/rearranging/rewriting, which was a way bigger task than I anticipated. When we were organizing in Discord at the beginning of the project, we had so many writers that we split the whole game’s story up into nine pieces, one for each writer, and each with the same deadlines. At that point it was just the Ford and Stan events themselves– no in-between events with the kids, no transitions, no introduction or end. Writers handed in first drafts, then second drafts, and then those drafts went straight into editing.

The idea was that Isa, Rosie, and I could do all the editing to bring about a more unified voice, since we essentially had nine voices in there, but in hindsight it was… not the best plan I could’ve gone with. Not asking the writers to polish their dates further meant that way more had to be done in the editing stage– plus we still had to write a remaining third of the game from scratch (transitions/intro/ending). When I think back to it I can still feel my dread from those times lol, because there was so much work to do and as the school year loomed, there were three– and then two– and then one– people available to do it. Isa (below) is right, the discord went dead for a long time after the writers handed in the last of their drafts about a month into the project.

Also, almost everyone in the group was into Dream Daddy, so many of our writers followed DD’s suit and wrote mini-games into their dates (mini-games that I still don’t know how to implement). So I had to cut all those out and patch it over with writing. Then in some drafts there was still placeholder text left, like “[insert wall of text here],” which I had to figure out or just patch over with new writing. Then sometimes there was still wonky dialogue, or odd behavior, and I’d try and nudge Ford or whoever into character again. Then the introduction and ending were still partially done or just plain missing, so I grafted Rosie’s intro draft onto another intro draft and led it into Ford’s cryptid hunt event, and drafted an ending for the sim, and then Isa really fleshed it out after.

And while this wasn’t strictly necessary, I ended up rearranging Ford’s route just a tad. Ford’s route originally went cryptid -> ddamd -> dinner date -> pool -> baking, so the dinner date was originally Mabel’s matchmaking scheme– which Rosie pulled off super well! In fact, she pulled it off so well that something felt off to me about Ford’s route progression, because while each date stood fine alone, it’s like things peaked a little too soon. After a lot of puzzling over what exactly felt off, I finally switched it up to go baking -> dinner date -> pool instead, rewriting the context of the baking date so that it would fit in.

Honestly, I don’t think the three of us really know the extent of the work we did during editing, even now? Like, to add to the above, Rosie also altered/added stuff & wrote much-needed transitions across the game including the two in-between events with the kids, which I think really tied the game together by giving it a bit of non-dating-centric story! And Isa did a bunch of editing/rewriting all across the game, especially on Stan’s route. While they worked I got to settle into my drawing/programming/playtesting role, which was a whole other batch of tedium, but everything turned out great!

isa: *cracks knuckles* alright sooooo. to start off I was really in the deep of it all really early on, starting from the brainstorming stage! Like Sovo said, the base we started from was the dates- the chat came up with possible date scenarios for both characters and we voted on which ones we’d want to see in the game! Coincidentally, all the final dates that made it in were mostly proposed by me! But all the others we tried to incorporate somehow even if they weren’t top 5; for instance, a drive in movie was proposed but didn’t make it so it turned into watching a movie at home after the main boxing part of the date. I also arranged the date order before we started writing based on premise, and what was most believable for the progression + time to get to know Stan and have things get more intimate and hopefully natural feeling! The concept and writing for Stan’s final date was all mine! Although I had originally had it stop after the kiss in the diner to leave it open-ended with “you wanna get out of here?” so the player could decide whether they…. took a ride on the Stan O’ War or not lmao, but then Sovo encouraged me to make it more steamy ending which I’m forever grateful for mwuahah. Everything else about the date was a piece of cake honestly, I found it easy to write since I knew where I wanted Stan + player to be in terms of their relationship/flirt level. The hardest part was…. finding a way to cut the makeout short that would be in character! Which is why I used poor, poor Robbie as my plot convenience. Sorry m'dude.

I edited and fluffed the intro form what Sovo had and edited…. the whole game actually I think. In terms of fixing typos, grammar, adding little lines here and there, etc. both in Stan and Ford’s routes. A huge role was also communicating from Sovo to the other writers on what still needed to be done, organization, due dates, etc. So I was kind of like a manager/coordinator too. I also wrote transitions from one date to the next, like the nap reader takes in order to fit Stan’s boxing date cg in the game and wrote them cuddling Waddles as well as the first half or so of the final version intro to Stan’s final date (Sovo then took up the rest!). I wrote a couple general intros too but they didn’t make it in since Rosie did such a good job lol.After talking with Sovo and deciding it’d be okay to change Ford’s date order to feel like a more natural progression, I made changes accordingly to the intros and things that were now out of order within his dates, mostly the baking date since that was the main one affected along with the swimming date. I had fun writing for Ford on that one, I really like the small things with him, like having the idea that he can crack two eggs in one hand super easy.

The biggest thing for me was making sure everything was cohesive and in-character while editing the rest of Stan’s route. Each date was wonderful but with so many writers there were quite a few inconsistencies from one date to another, which is understandable since everyone just started writing on their own and didn’t know what others wrote until after. (And also I made some executive decisions on what I thought was and wasn’t out of character or what I thought didn’t fit with what we’ve seen in the source material or what would happen after the finale.) There were a lot of things that had to be removed as a result, which led to big gaps I had to fill and choices/possibilities I had to streamline. For instance, I completely rearranged and had to rewrite a lot of the movie part and the end of the date. Sometimes in the dates there were a lot of choices but none of them really had much of an impact on your approval rating in the game, which became more important later on, so I had to make bad choices worse and good choices better! So like for the films, the date ends differently depending on which film you pick, but if you’re doing well enough already and you pick an option that isn’t the best, you get an okay ending and aren’t completely out of luck lol (picking a horror film is neither the worst nor the best but if you have a high score already it’s more of an inconvenience than anything). Also, consistency was key. I had a unique challenge with Stan’s accent and how to write it in, so I’d find myself reading over his dialogue many times and keeping what felt natural and not forced to it wouldn’t be understood in context with other words lol. And simple things like punctuation- all the writers wrote things differently, so like TV vs tv vs t.v. etc or Stan O'War vs Stan-O-War, etc. That part’s more tedious than anything. OH, and I grabbed the voice clips from Gravity Falls as well as the sound effects for that version. It felt weird without an actual car horn to interrupt; I also found alternative tracks for the disco date until phoe pulled through!

And then finally, I rewrote the general farewell at the end from the base that we there already, and embellished and added a bit more floof to Stan’s possible endings. For his bad ending I think if you got a low enough score that your dates got cut short, he’d be pretty cold because wow you just made him fix your car and you were kinda rude to him bye stranger. And if you got far enough that he set up the disco date for you but your score was low overall, he’d be kinda heartbroken but definitely wouldn’t let it show, he’s just be gruff and defensive. And if you did well, he’ll let his fondness show a bit more in his own way. You’re still only someone he just met, and he’s spent so long hiding that he’s still getting used to being himself so he won’t bear his entire heart just yet, but there’s definitely promise and he’s excited. I headcanon that he sends you weird trinkets in the mail and texts/video calls you pretty regularly until the Stan O'War II docks somewhere close and you two can visit and catch up.

This project was a lot of work….. it was pretty dead in some spaces, mostly after the writers finished their dates and it got passed on for the monstrous editing job lol. Some times I couldn’t stop editing, others I was slammed for weeks with classes and personal life, and Sovo was so kind and understanding! I really learned a lot about writing and am sad it’s over, but also. Not lol. I’m so amazed with how it turned out and I can’t believe the reception it’s gotten!!! ;u;

#isa answers #sovo answers #rosie answers #long post #submission #robinthegreenbird #game process

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