#there's only 23 on Ao3 and if I have to fill the tag myself so be it

[priafey]

Gwilin of the Day: "Say When" Gwilin

Today's Gwilin of the day is brought to you by: raunchyandpaunchy on ao3!

(you guys are gonna be seeing this name an awful lot. bless them, they've filled the "gwilin" tag up with four of their fics)

The Edged Lexicon

Published: Aug 23, 2018

Rated: Explicit

Length: ~80,000 words

Featuring: Too many characters to list. Most notable ones are Fem. OC, Brynjolf, Adrianne, Vex, Drevis Neloren

Set in: Whiterun Hold

REVIEW

There are a lot of things I could write about my experience reading this story–the countless thoughts, feelings, and opinions I formulated as I did. While drafting this review, I had to remind myself to keep the focus on Gwilin, which is never hard for me to do. That being said, this story certainly didn't make the task any easier for me.

I'd say out of all the Gwilin fics on ao3, this is the one that really shot for the stars. And it's a smutfic! Commendable...

Originally, I read only the chapters of this story that included Gwilin (chapters 9, 10, 11, and 14), but ended up going back and reading the whole thing. All in all, I found myself dying to hear this Gwilin speak. Each time he did, it was like a cry from a beautiful bird that meant to sing, but knew better: delicate, tentative, incapable of being furtive, and –that word that kept popping up to describe him– reverent.

His characterization is very subtle (likely the subtlest of any of the fics I've reviewed yet). If I had to describe it succinctly, I'd say this Gwilin is one to parse, but he's not insecure, or meek, or slow to action. He's self-assured, and has a strength of character that seems to stem from this unshakeable conviction in himself. He knows who is, but he is totally willing to let himself be guided as he figures out what he likes. The author describes him as "corruptibly innocent" at one point, but I do believe the word innocent belongs nowhere near this Gwilin. He smashes the dichotomy of innocence and naughtiness to smithereens, encompassing at once everything that lies within and everything that falls outside of it. His lust is felt and shown, never imposed and yet never kept hidden, seen and known only by the grace of him.

Meanwhile, he is beyond eager. I really like that his eagerness isn’t to please, as I felt was more the case with the author's OC, Nadine, but to satiate himself. He wants to drink and let others drink from him, and he does not skip a single beat in pursuit of that (e.g. "No sooner had he pulled his cock out of his loincloth than Gwilin enveloped it in his mouth [...]", “Gwilin barely waited for Ulfberth to position himself at his mouth before descending on his cock […]”, "He fell against her, sweat-soaked and breathless, peppering kisses across her back and shoulders as he struggled to gain composure.").

This eager spirit of his only adds to his sweetness. Gwilin blushes every five seconds in this story, simultaneously shying away from and relishing every bit of attention that is given to him. I ate it up. He doesn't appear to be very good at picking up social cues. I ate it up. His politeness is almost himbo-like, which is not how I tend to imagine Gwilin, but it did not feel dissonant with all the other ways he inhabited this story at all. I ate that up, too.

Every turn this Gwilin took, every bend in this road of his... had me ripping my hair out and squealing and freaking the fuck out.

In short, everything about this Gwilin made me go totally insane, in the best fucking way.

Moment that my mind chose to fixate on: There were so many moments, honestly. If I had to pick, I'd say it was when Drevis reappeared as he was fucking Gwilin in the ass. The thought of Gwilin's ass feeling so good that it made Drevis lose his concentration and break his invisibility spell is everything to me. I'm not one to consume a lot of fanfiction or erotica, but, from what I have, it's probably the hottest thing I've ever read. You know I wanked it!!!

I. Compellingness

Completely speechless here. There are simply no words. 10/10

II. Swagger

Self-confident. Looking cute as hell. Thriving. Swag levels are definitely off the charts. 9/10

III. Talent

Whoa nelly is this Gwilin talented. Full-fledged throat goat, ceo of fetching towels and cloths, an archer, absolutely slays the loincloth look. 10/10

IV. Backstory

Not much to speak of, but this story is pretty long and he isn't the main character by any means. I think what little information is revealed is fair for the amount of "screentime" he gets. 8/10

V. Pleasure of Reading

The prose of this one really draws you in, and refuses to lull you so much as dare you to read on. The author is fond of wordplay, and has a good sense of humor, plus they gave each of the characters in the story a distinct, recognizable voice.

Some of the transitions between scenes and chapters are somewhat disjointed, though. Also, the author is clearly invested in the “philosophy” of BDSM, which isn’t an issue in and of itself, but some parts of the story are rather blunt and unsubtle in reflecting this. It's good in the sense that it expresses the points of contention of issues surrounding BDSM in no uncertain terms, but bad in the sense that the characters can come off as mouthpieces for the author's thoughts. 8/10

VI. Horniness

Decent understated yet ever-present horniness. More overt or elaborate expressions of his desire or a window into his thoughts might have been appreciated, but Nadine's thoughts were the true focus of the story so I can't be too harsh on that front. Those descriptions of his moans said it all, really. 9/10

Final Tally

My

autistic ass

gives this Gwilin a 9/10!

[yourfantasyfigures]

Epilogue: The Wormhole

Border: Carnival <completed>

Start here: Prologue: The Invitation

Previous chapter: Mixed Up (Chapter 4)

Masterlist Info AO3

"No, no, it was never mine."

Rating: All Audiences

Words: 1108

Status: Completed

Tags & Warnings of the entire fic: Vampire!au, mystery, found family, hurt & comfort, non-graphic violence, hints towards past trauma, family drama

If you have any questions or concerns regarding the tags/warnings, feel free to contact me. Please let me know if I'm missing any tags.

°°°

We interrupt your program to bring you an update on the events that transpired at Wormhole Carnival, which was suddenly evacuated earlier today.

According to reports, police were informed of a potentially life-threatening incident at one of the attracions. A young man, estimated to be between the ages of 17 and 23 reportedly jumped off a swing ride. When medical professionals arrived to treat possible injuries from the fall, the man was nowhere to be found.

As the police was on site to investigate the peculiar incident, they were alerted to unusual movement of the circus tent that seemed to be threatening to collapse. Securing the tent and searching inside, they found five individuals, all of which belonging to the circus The Invitation.

Seemingly the aftermath of a violent confrontation, the ringmaster was transferred to a hospital where he is receiving treatment.

Police declined to disclose any further details.

Until clarity on what transpired at Wormhole Carnival is achieved, the Carnival will be temporarily closed to ensure the safety of the public.

Thank you and have a good night.

°

"No thank you, I don't want any."

"You should eat something, Ni-ki, it will make you feel better. Look." Jay filled a bowl halfway.

"This one is yours, so just take it whenever you're ready."

He set it down in front of the younger boy who weakly smiled at him, the thank you remaining unspoken but understood nonetheless.

They six others dug in, and upon hearing the overwhelming compliments directed towards Jay who had prepared the meal, Ni-ki couldn't hold back his own curiosity, giving into his rumbling stomach.

When they were all full and too lazy to get up to clear the table, Ni-ki reached into his pocket, then paused.

"Why havent you asked yet?" he wondered out loud.

"What do you mean? Ask what?" Jake asked in return.

Ni-ki vaguely gestured to the hand that was still resting in his pocket.

"What he gave me. I know you're all curious but none of you even alluded to it."

Jake looked around at the others.

"I guess we didn't want to upset you, give you space." Everyone nodded in agreement but Ni-ki let out a huff of annoyance.

"I don't want you guys to treat me like a scared little child that you need to tiptoe around. You don't have to wait for me to bring something up, you can just go ahead and say or ask what you want. And if I'm uncomfortable, I'll say so. I just... I don't want you to constantly protect my feelings or something."

"Okay but me personally, I was just protecting myself from you flinging me across the room but maybe that's just me."

Sunghoon was very amused by his own joke, not even caring that he was the only one laughing. Besides Sunoo, who used his hand to cover his giggle, the others barely reacted, not wanting to further encourage his comedic inclinations.

"Anyways" Jungwon said and turned back to Ni-ki.

"What did he give you in the tent?"

Ni-ki pulled his hand out of his pocket in order to show the others. A thin chain dangled in front of his face, as he showed the others the beautiful amulet.

"Is it yours from when you were a kid?" Jay asked, watching the amulet swing slightly from side to side.

Ni-ki shook his head. "No, no, it was never mine." He mumbled, seeming a bit lost in thought. Heeseung snapped him out of his daydream.

"Does it open?"

Ni-ki smiled as he laid the amulet in the middle of the table.

"Go ahead." He said, looking at Heeseung expectantly.

Heeseung picked it up, careful not to cause any damage.

He opened it, his eyes widening at the pictures he found inside.

"Ni-ki..." he whispered, choking up at what he saw.

They all took turns to look at it before it finally landed in Ni-ki's hands again.

"So is that, is she, I mean" Sunoo struggled to find the right words.

"Yeah." Ni-ki still answered. "That's her. I gave it to her back when I was..." he looked up into the air, trying to remember "Six? Eight? Something like that."

He looked at the amulet again.

"I always thought she took it with her. I know it's ridiculous to hold on to something like that but I just... I understand that she wouldn't want the wedding picture on it, I get leaving him in the past but..."

He closed his eyes as he took a shaky breath, a tear threatening to escape his eyes.

"I don't know, I just really wanted to believe that she would hold on to this and cherish it. She could have taken out their wedding photo and just kept the one with me in it but I guess she didn't want to."

He cleared his voice in hopes of regaining his composure.

"Turns out she gave it to him instead, he probably had it all this time. It makes sense, you know. She was the one who left, it's foolish to assume she would want to take any memory with her."

"It's not foolish" Jake interrupted him. "You're not foolish for thinking or wishing she would take your gift with her. You were a child, for crying out loud. And it's natural to assume she would want to remember her son, so please, stop. Don't make yourself more miserable. You don't deserve this."

Ni-ki reached out to take Jake's hand who took it silently. Ni-ki opened his mouth but no words came out, so he pressed his lips together instead. While Jake was rubbing the back of Ni-ki's hand with soothing motions, the youngest let his head drop, hiding his face from the others.

Because they were all quiet, the sound of Ni-ki's sniffling was unmistakable. It started out quiet, the boy holding it back with all his might, before he broke down.

Tears dropped into his lap and his body began shaking, all of his emotions pouring out.

Jungwon had gotten out of his seat to stand next to the youngest, hoping he could comfort him by running his fingers through his hair. Ni-ki leaned into the touch as his sobs grew louder and louder. He turned in his seat, pulling Jungwon close and burying his face in his stomach.

The others couldn't hold back either, each of them losing their battle against the tears.

They cried together, comforting each other as best as they could.

When they were all out of tears, still sniffling in each other's arms, Ni-ki raised his head.

"I don't.... I don't need them now. You're my only family."

[symeraid-s]

Sorry, I haven’t posted anything in like... a month, but first I went on vacation for three weeks and then I spent another binge-watching L.O.R.D Critical World, and let me tell you, that was a wild ride.

The plot is really cool, with some twists, that I definitely didn’t see coming (...well, most of them). I don’t want to go into details because of spoilers, but the basic plot is that an essentially normal guy becomes the disciple of a powerful magician/lord and they go on adventures together.

Our protagonist Qi Ling/Kynil (depending on the sub) is also very likeable and funny and probably the definition of a cinnamon roll, too good for this world, too pure, but seeing him grow past that into a powerful magician was a joy to watch.

The other characters were also mostly cool and intriguing, except for Reya and Spector/Lord II (Idk his name, the subtitles I had called him that, can someone please tell me if that’s his real name? Asking for a fic). I really didn’t like them and wanted them to go off screen, whenever they were on. My favourite was Qi Ling and after him probably his Lord Yin Chen.

The dynamics between the characters were really nice and this is one of the few shows, where I looked at two girl characters together and immediately went: “I ship it”.

On that note: This may be a C-Drama and thus suffers from censorship, but let it be known, they let a lot slide past them. Seriously. There is this one scene, which I think is hilarious, where Qi Ling gifts a girl with a hairband and it’s really cute and sorta romantic and then he turns around to talk to his male best friend and the guy just asks him, if he’ll buy him one too. Like... that had way more chemistry. He and his best friend in general have a lot more romantic chemistry than he and any girl in the cast.

He also has more chemistry with his lord Yin Chen and though a lot of people ship them, I can’t really bring myself to do it, because I really like their relationship as it is portrayed in the show and I’m a sucker for found family, sue me.

So, yeah, I’d definitely would recommend this show if you like fantasy and also if you like the Untamed, because Qi Ling does give off a lot of Wei Wuxian vibes.

8/10, will definitely rewatch some scenes on loop.

[writingamarie]

1 & 23 & 38 for the ask game

Sorry I didn't see this earlier!

1. Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic.

Angst/hurt is something I find fills all my stories. I think it is something I write well. I try to mix in happier topics as well, or sprinkle them in at the very least. But in general my stories tend to be darker in their themes and topics. A lot of hurt, minor happy moments that are ruined by more hurt, and then eventually people that live get to be happy.

23. If you were to revise one of your older fics from start to finish, which would it be and why?

So obviously on ao3 I only have the one story. I wrote a lot before but never in the marauders era until now. I have one Golden Trio war story that I might try to rewrite eventually. It was very WW2, trauma/angst/hurt focused on Hermione. I had it on a different account under a different name and actually had a lot more written than what I had posted but when my computer crashed I lost everything and the motivation to rewrite it at the time vanished. One day maybe I would if I could get myself interested in writing the golden trio era again. I would really love to finish that story eventually but the ships just aren't ones that I am interested in at the moment. I almost feel like I would have to rewrite it and change it to marauders era and change the ships entirely. Which would alter a lot of the side stories and the general motivations. Like it would just be a whole new story at that point...

38. Talk about a review that made your day.

There are a few that have just been amazing. I mostly have repeat commenters at this point and I get so excited when I get a notification that they've left something. Multiple people have said something along the lines of rushing to the story as soon as it posts, or wanting to leave more kudos and it just makes me so happy. I can't believe all the love.

Related: someone tagged me in a tumblr post with a bunch of authors I love and I nearly died. And I got tagged in a tiktok and just couldn't believe it. Like how is this real life?

[oumaheroes]

End of the year review

Tagged by the lovely @needcake <3

What fandoms did you create for?

These days almost exclusively Hetalia, although I was originally a One Piece writer and added one new work this year.

How many works did you make this year? Fics (posted on ao3 or tumblr or wherever), edits, gifsets, moodboards, playlists, fanart, vids, meta?

Jesus fucking Christ, I really don’t know what happened to me this year, but I somehow have written 23 stories. I have also written 25 separate headcanons and many snippets of WIPS that are still unpublished

What are you most proud of?

Like Cake, I’m going to do my top 5:

Reset: My giant murder mystery son that I finally finished this year. It’s been a 7 year battle but I’m so very proud that I finished it and is packed with everything I have ever thought about how nations work and especially focussing on England and France.

Earthbound: My Sci-fi dystopian daydream. The last time I was kept up in the middle of the night, scribbling onto paper because the words wouldn’t stop coming. It’s about the nations, now humans many years into the future, remembering who they had been in an older life.

Character Study: I wrote this for a friend with the intention of writing something really short and quick but ended up squashing all of my FrUK love and feelings into it and causing myself sappy emotional damage.

It’s All About the Delivery: My comfort exploration into my vast headcanons for Nationverse, how humans fit into it, and the adorable man known as Matthew Williams.

The Grace of Forgetting: The first fic that I wrote, sat back and thought, maybe I could become a writer some day. I’m not sure how to describe it exactly, but this was the first fic I wrote where I truly felt as though I’d written something with any sort of skill.

Any stats you wanna tell us about?

From 2010- 2020 I had written 6 stories for Hetalia, 4 of those being written in 2017. Somehow, I have managed to write 23 stories this year alone and I still have so many ideas left in me. I don’t know what happened but boy do I wish it had happened sooner haha

I’d love to give a full word count but so many fics are on Tumblr only and I can’t be arsed to add them all up. AO3 tells me that I have got 241864 there though so it’s many! ;u;

What inspired you this year? Any specific works or creators?

So many wonderful people. I’m not kidding, I said this in answer to an ask not long ago but BOY am I honoured and blessed to speak to so many wonderful artists and writers in this fandom. I’m so so lucky even more so to be able to call some of these my friends.

This fandom is so talented and filled with so much creativity that it’s a joy to be a part of. I’m having so much fun and am constantly inspired by too many people to list.

What’s a piece you didn’t expect to make? Why?

Honestly? Any of the things I have written this year. I truly never expected to write again when I stopped in 2018 and I am baffled by everything that’s happened. In particular though, I really didn’t expect to finish Reset. I always said that I would finish it and always believed that I would, but I certainly didn’t expect to finish it all in a year.

What are you excited to work on next year?

HmmMMMMMMMm

My aim is to finish all of my WIPs, which are many (a mostly list can be found here). I’d love to write more British Isles bros and, as always, more FrUK.

On a non-Hetalian note, I’d love to do a glow up rewrite of some old One Piece stuff.

Tag some people!

If they want to take part, I’m going to tag @bougietalia, @draw-a-circle-thats-the-foxhole, @rebelsandtherest, @fizzycherrycola @maelerie, @a-luran, @ego-meliorem-esse, @mandelene, and @goodybagblog

[hipsofsteel]

Sam for 23??

Hi, Anon, I have some bad news.

I'm going to assume you're one of the people who in the last few days/weeks/months has been finding some of my old TexCali works in the Hetalia tags or AO3. Some of them are pretty solid, and I still stand by them.

You may or may not have also noticed most of those works are dated between late 2017 to early 2019 and wondered why they stopped. I want to give you the answer on why I cannot answer this ask.

In early 2017, I met the person who created the character of Sam. We were fast friends and thick as thieves at the time. As they developed Sam, I later developed Roberto, and we intertwined their stories. It was a writing and art exercise between friends. However, over the end of 2018 and early 2019, the friendship became less close due to conflicts between Sam's creator, myself, and the creator of Evelyn (who I would begin dating after the events in this post).

Although Sam's creator blocked Evelyn's creator, I remained in contact with both of them. Sam's creator was also drifting from Hetalia as a main fandom and more into TAZ: Amnesty, and finding new friends. I was less and less important in their life.

This culminated in Sam's creator ceasing to respond to my messages in late February of 2019, and finally blocking me mid-March. I'd been ghosted by someone who'd been my best friend for two years, and it felt like shit. I made a post announcing that while I would not delete previous works about these characters, I would no longer use this creator's characters from now on. They were not mine, and I was not comfortable with the risks involved if I did continue to use them. I ended up taking several months away from writing any character of mine that had been associated with a character from Sam's creator.

When this contact ceased, so did my use of the following characters: -Sam (Texas) -Rosa (Nyo!Texas) -Victorio (New Mexico) -Lilakai (Arizona) -Kit (Colorado) -Gwen (Kansas (Gwen was only used in writing with Sam's creator after they blocked Evelyn's creator)) -Charlotte (Maine) -June (Wyoming) -Haiwee (Nevada)

There may be others, but these are who I remember off the top of my head.

I have occasionally used the art Sam's creator gifted me still when introducing new people to my characters (ALWAYS PROPERLY CREDITED), but I no longer use any character that was created by them. They are not my characters, I no longer have permission to use them, and it can bring up fairly painful memories. I'm still filling in story gaps now and then for my more established characters.

For example, if you like Roberto, his new beau is Carson (Colorado). Beverly's new girl is Mina (Short for Wilhelmina, and also Minnesota). There still is a Texas on this blog, her name's Lupe, and Chris is absolutely still enchanted with the big woman with guns who will kick his ass. There's even Emmeline (Utah), who sits and judges everyone around her, even her bestie Clark. There's also Sarah (Nevada) and Luci (Arizona), two partially developed OCs, and Evelyn runs rampant across several stories as Kansas, and shows the influence of my new writing partner, and girlfriend of almost three years.

I still use the OCs of other friends, although the creators of Seth and Marco are no longer big into Hetalia themselves. I am still in contact with these creators, and Marco's creator has given me permission to use his characters, which is why my drafted novel's romantic male lead is actually his Alabama OC, and several of the supporting characters also trace their origins back to him, rather than me. But I will not use any characters who were created by Sam's creator. I have always believed that they extended the same respect to me.

I am not naming Sam's creator in this post as if you've seen the art, you have their URL. I also did not use their name or gendered pronouns as I am uncertain they have remained the same after all this time. I also refrained from tagging or naming any other creators in this post as I believe one is still in contact with, or at least still followed by, Sam's creator, and I do not wish bad feelings between any of them.

[marvelspookytoberprompts]

Marvel Spookytober 2021 Prompts

Hello, everyone!

It’s finally that time of the year again, and Marvel Spookytober Prompts is back with prompts for you a bit later than usual.

For those who aren’t familiar, Marvel Spookytober Prompts is an event that lasts the entire month of October. It has two different prompts for you to choose from each day or you could even use both prompts. You are free to participate as much or as little as you wish, meaning there is NO minimum word count, minimum days to participate, minimum images, or anything of the like. All forms (writing, art, gifsets, moodboards, etc.) will be accepted.

Here are some quick reminders of this event:

You don’t have to use every prompt that is given for each day, but you are more than welcome to if you want.

If you would like for us to reblog your work, then use the hashtags #marvelspookytober or #marvelspookytoberprompts. For an extra measure, since tracked tagging has been a bit wonky lately, then tag us in your post.

To make it easier for us Mods for when we reblog and tag your work, please state what day and prompt(s) you have filled. (ex: Day 4 - Group Costume or Day 23 - “Don't you dare touch my caramel apples.” || The 13th Floor)

You can also include your work in our AO3 collection here. Please state what day and prompt(s) you have filled in the ‘Summary’ section.

HERE is a link to a post that shows fic formatting examples. This format should be done since it provides information about what your work entails so people can avoid it if there’s something they aren’t comfortable with.

These prompts are free for anyone to use; however, we will only be reblogging Marvel related content.

Without further ado, here, under the cut, are this year’s prompts!

If you have any questions, feel free to drop by our ask.

01 OCTOBER/DAY 1: “This sounds like a nightmare waiting to happen.” || Angel/Demon

02 OCTOBER/DAY 2: Horror Movie Binge || A broken lollipop, tears and hugs.

03 OCTOBER/DAY 3: “Please stop slapping the pumpkins. People are starting to stare.” || Masked Killers

04 OCTOBER/DAY 4: Group Costume || Camping trip, ghost stories, and a supernatural element.

05 OCTOBER/DAY 5: “That's such an inappropriate costume for the workplace. I'm telling HR.” || Hitchhiking Ghost

06 OCTOBER/DAY 6: Creepy Children Singing || Corn maze, scavenger hunt. and running into your ex.

07 OCTOBER/DAY 7: “Let me guess, you made your costume last minute?” || Vampires

08 OCTOBER/DAY 8: Zombies || Late night, consistent door knocking, and an empty front porch.

09 OCTOBER/DAY 9: “We are not doing a couple's costume.” || Cursed Amulet/Locket

10 OCTOBER/DAY 10: Ghost Town || Playing hide-and-seek in an abandoned mansion.

11 OCTOBER/DAY 11: “Would you like to be my date for the Halloween dance?” || Doppelgänger

12 OCTOBER/DAY 12: Shifters || S'mores, power outage, and sleeping under the stars.

13 OCTOBER/DAY 13: “So garlic really doesn't work on vampires?” || Killer Clowns

14 OCTOBER/DAY 14: No Call Service || Murky lake, mysterious deaths, and a terrible detective.

15 OCTOBER/DAY 15: “Hiking on a date can go two ways. Option one, we get engaged. Option two, someone gets murdered.” || Car doesn't start

16 OCTOBER/DAY 16: Vengeful Spirit || Newspaper clippings, new person in town, and a creepy legend

17 OCTOBER/DAY 17: “How long do you think it would take for Character A to realize I'm dressed as them?” || Old Diary/Journal

18 OCTOBER/DAY 18: Imaginary Friend || Falling, fruit picking, and a rain storm

19 OCTOBER/DAY 19: “I made a horrible first impression at the haunted house." - "No kidding, you nearly broke my nose.” || Hiding from a Killer

20 OCTOBER/DAY 20: Mad Scientist || A sunrise, a bumper sticker, and the color orange

21 OCTOBER/DAY 21: “My plan was to woo you but I just ended up scaring myself watching all those movies.” || Hidden Message

22 OCTOBER/DAY 22: Playing with Ouija Boards || Darting shadows in the corner of your eye

23 OCTOBER/DAY 23: “Don't you dare touch my caramel apples.” || The 13th Floor

24 OCTOBER/DAY 24: Found Footage || A small nature walk path in the forest

25 OCTOBER/DAY 25: “Get away from me! Your costume is horrendous!” || Mirror Scare

26 OCTOBER/DAY 26: Possessed Technology || Pumpkin carving, a haunted forest, and oversized sweaters

27 OCTOBER/DAY 27: “How could you hide something like that from me!" - "....It was a surprise costume party.” || Stalker

28 OCTOBER/DAY 28: Creepy Love Letters || Morning kisses, fake blood. and the warmth of a fire.

29 OCTOBER/DAY 29: “I don't think Character A knows how Halloween Works.” || Escaping Death

30 OCTOBER/DAY 30: Hidden Passages || The ever-growing chill as each night goes by.

31 OCTOBER/DAY 31: “I may be an idiot but I'm your idiot." - "Oh? I didn't realize you were wearing a costume.” || Abandoned Lighthouse Still Works || Flannel shirts, the harvest moon, and making your favorite apple-based desserts.

[lightneverfades]

FROSTIRON HOLIDAY WISHES CHALLENGE! ♥ ❆

Hello everyone! So I’m sorry for the delay, but for those interested, viola! :) Tis here! Bear with me cause this is a very last minute idea (lol knowing myself haha!)  that I was contemplating on creating! (I’m adopting some ideas from @winteriron-winter-stockings​ in this event!) I know this year hasn’t been the best, so I figured we can end it with some good (lol should I say Frostiron goodiness)? And with everyone’s busy schedules, I figured this way might work (I’ll do my best to moderate it!) ;)

The rules are simple: 

❆ The wishes challenge is a list of prompt/idea that can be submitted by anyone! Only catch is that once the ‘wish’ is in the list, anyone can claim and fill it!  

How to Submit: 

❆ You can fill a prompt/idea (a ‘wish’) by submitting them here! 

Note: All wishes revealed in the list can be filled by anyone, however there is a possibility not all of them will be filled. But don’t lose heart! <3 You’re more than welcome to submit as many prompt/ideas as you like as well! ;)

How to Claim ✨

❆ All creators who want to claim a wish can do so once the list is revealed (see timeline below)! 

Requirements ✨

❆ The ship has to be Frostiron (Tony Stark/Loki). But you’re more than welcome to include any other ships in the mix, as long as the main ship is Frostiron! ❆ Ratings will depend on the prompt/idea (details will be revealed in the wishlist) ;) ❆ Be nice to your fellow prompter/creator! <3 

Types of Fills ✨

❆ Any type of fan works is allowed - That means fan fics, fan art (drawings, digital graphics), fan videos and fan mixes! ❆ If I’ve missed anything, you’re more than welcome to let me know! ;) The main idea is that there really is no limit! Contact method ✨

❆ First contact will be through tumblr as this challenge originates here! ;) And then creators are welcome to get in touch with the individual/s who submitted the prompt (I will tag them on the Wishlist) through other modes (such as gmail, AO3) so that they can contact them if (they need to know more details or simply to say hello! ;)

Fills revealed ✨

❆ Wishes will be revealed as a surprise on Dec 24-25 (see below timeline), so please keep your fan works a secret until then! The idea is that I will compile everyone’s submitted fills for prompts and it will be shared as a Christmas gift! ;) 

Deadline ✨

❆ 1) Submit ideas/wishes: Until Dec 5 ❆ 2) Wishlist posted: Dec 6 ❆ 3) Fills: Dec 6-Dec 23 ❆ 4) Reveals: Between Dec 24-25 (Christmas Eve and Day) 🎅🎄

If you have any questions, feel free to let me know! (I might post an FAQ if I receive many similar questions!)

A side note: I live in Japan, Tokyo, so my timezone may be earlier or later than most people, lol! So if I post a day early for reveals, just consider it an early present eh? ;D

Meanwhile, I hope you guys go wild (lol have fun, ahem! ;D)! 

xoxo Anna 

[rubickk7]

Fic Interview Meme

Thanks for the tag @lizardkingeliot. Always love the chance to talk about myself.

How many works do you have on AO3?

45. I have a couple anon up there for exchanges waiting to go live.

What’s your total AO3 wordcount?

799,028 – I’ve been writing since May 2020. Will hit 800k next weekend when my next exchange is revealed.

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Here’s the list from my dashboard – 20 of these are drabbles.

The Magicians (TV) (23)

Original Work (3)

Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling (2)

Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV) (2)

Twilight Series - All Media Types (1)

Loki (TV 2021) (1)

A Knight's Tale (2001) (1)

The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types (1)

The Old Guard (Movie 2020) (1)

Angel: the Series (1)

Crazy Ex-Girlfriend (TV) (1)

Superman & Lois (TV 2021) (1)

Labyrinth (1986) (1)

Daria (Cartoon) (1)

Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston (1)

The Mummy Series (1)

Star Wars Sequel Trilogy (1)

Shadow and Bone (TV) (1)

10 Things I Hate About You (1999) (1)

Marvel Cinematic Universe (1)

Venom (Marvel Movies) (1)

The Magicians - Lev Grossman (1)

The Avengers (Marvel Movies) (1)

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV) (1)

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

There's No Place Like Home – Queliot, fake-dating post-mosaic

i'll put your poison in my veins – body swap fix-it fic

How to Make Two Stubborn Wizards Kiss – HP Drarry soulbond fic

The Only Exception (with the floppy hair) – Queliot soulmate fic

Quentin Coldwater and the Universal Truth (That a Slytherin as hot as Eliot Waugh would never be attracted to a Hufflepuff such as himself) – TM/HP/P&P Fusion.

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Yep. I enjoy it when authors respond to mine, so I reply to others. If the comment is just emojis or a few nice words, I may not respond, basically because I don’t expect responses on those when I leave them. I do appreciate anyone who leave a comment, from just one emoji to full capital keyboard smashes to long comments full of your favorite lines. Each one makes my day.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Hrm. Typically I write fluff and happy endings, but a couple I did for exchanges ended pretty ambiguously – so probably either ashes in my mouth (TM, Niffin!Alice & Q) or baby did a bad bad thing (TM, Q23/Q40)

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve ever written?

I was going to say no, but yeah, I did a Magicians/Harry Potter/Pride & Prejudice fusion fic for my second fic ever. I guess that one was pretty crazy, trying to merge three universes. I’m pleased with how it came out; it was a lot of fun to write.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not to my face. So, nope.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Yes. Typically M/M. I have a few F/F and one M/F.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No. @hoko-onchi-writes and I have talked about it, and I think it’ll happen one day.

What’s your all time favorite ship?

Queliot, although these days I enjoy many ships – Jaskier/Geralt, Clint/Coulson, among others

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I don’t have any incomplete fics.

What are your writing strengths?

Finishing fics? Capturing a character’s personality through dialogue. I don’t know.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Brevity. In the exchanges I’ve done, I’ve had the highest word count fics in over half of them.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I haven’t done this. I’m fine with it, when I read it in other fics. I think I usually just say “He chants the Romanian words” or whatnot.

What was the first fandom you ever wrote for?

The Magicians popped my fanfic cherry.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

I hate this question. I don’t know. I like them all; and my range of what I've written is pretty across the board. I guess here’s my top eight, in no particular order:

There’s No Place Like Home – fake-dating post-mosaic. This one felt like a romcom as I wrote it, which was partly why I enjoy it so much. I feel like the humor was pretty well done. Thanks to @freneticfloetry for the bunny.

Love Me To Life – Written for a fairy-tale exchange, based off the Pygmalion myth. The bunny for this one hit me while I was standing in line for Asian food, and it was just a delight to watch it come to life. I figured out various plot points along the way, and it just fills me with delight to reread it.

i’ll put your poison in my veins – my first real fix-it. I was proud of myself for sticking with the teen rating, even though I really wanted to put some smut in the end. It just felt good to write a real fix it.

so hot, so sweet, so whet my appetite – my first OW. I Love these two so much; I’m expanding their universe into an original novel.

The Only Exception (with the floppy hair) – this flowed out of me in 3 days. I love the soulmate trope; it’s my favorite, and this was the first one I ever wrote. Thanks for the inspo, @freneticfloetry.

Professor Coldwater: Social Maladjustment 101 – Pretty sure I’d get murdered in my sleep if I didn’t include this one. My longest fic, my goal was to write angst and smut. And I did that.

you said the words, and they altered the universe – TM, book/show fusion. Sort of. I wrote this probably when I was at my height of loving Queliot and the TM fandom, and I think it shows. I was just so enamored of this fic as soon as I finished it. I still love it. Just not that intensely, I suppose.

if I get burned (at least we were electrified) – TM, Wickoff. I just enjoyed writing a fic from a song, and I like how I did it with the flashbacks.

Tagging @mixtapestar @hoko-onchi-writes @freneticfloetry @shmazarov @eidetictelekinetic

[lightsinthedistancee]

Violation: Poe Dameron x Reader

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Summary: “He was drowning and flailing in the whirlpool of his memories. Barely staying above and being forced to surrender to something that he had once controlled.”

Reader comforts Poe through trauma developed during his time within the First Order.

Warnings: mentions of torture

A/N: Hey guys! I know this is super similar to the works I’ve been posting lately (ptsd/trauma and stuff) but I actually wrote this a while ago and have been trying to stop being a lazy bum and finally get all my stuff transferred over from AO3 (which I told myself I’d do a month ago and still haven’t oops).

It was cold. Too cold. Air was drafting in through the open window, running across her skin, caressing her arms in a chill that she yearned to shake. She reached for Poe on the other side of the bed, only finding empty, cold sheets.

“Poe?” she murmured groggily, opening her eyes. He was nowhere to be found, the door ajar, suggesting that he’d left.

She frowned, for she knew he only got up in the middle of the night when he was distracted, and that distractedness was generally the result of a devastating, all-encompassing emotion that he was experiencing.

She had theories of what it was about…well, only one.

Kylo Ren.

She knew that the First Order Commander had done something to Poe, something terrible, something that broke something in him. She’d spent countless nights up, pleading with Poe, begging him to trust her, to confide in her with his pain. Each time had ended in failure, leaving her only with a self-loathing for not being someone that he could trust.

She rolled out of bed, goosebumps dotting her arms as she wrapped a fleece blanket around her shoulders. The apartment was dead silent as she paced down the stairs, the only exception being the sound of the perpetual Coruscanti traffic filtering through the walls. City lights harshly illuminated the rooms, giving them a painfully bright shine. His presence was found in neither the kitchen or the living area, but she spotted him on the balcony, his form a black silhouette against the lights.

He clutched a warm mug of tea between his hands, and the moment she stepped out, she shivered at the breeze. “Poe?” she said quietly. He looked up at her, his eyes sad and empty, seeming to travel for miles into his skull.

She sat beside him, wrapping her blanket around his shoulders too. One of her hands found its way into his curls, running her fingers through them comfortingly.

“Why’re you up?”

“Had a dream,” he muttered, avoiding her gaze.

“About?”

“You know,” he simply answered. And she did. It was always the same thing nearly every time.

He felt her presence radiating from her center, washing over him, wrapping him in warmth and familiarity.

“Can you tell me what happened?” she questioned tentatively, bracing herself for rejection like all the other times.

He wanted to tell her…he’d never wanted to tell anyone anything more than he wanted to tell her what had happened. But his pride and shame blocked him. It hadn’t been excruciating pain or torture that had broken him. It’d been something else, something seemingly far less sinister.

His thoughts were taunting him, telling him that he was supposed to be stronger than this. That what had happened should have barely fazed him. All of it made him feel overwhelmingly weak, like he was drowning and flailing in the whirlpool of his memories. Barely staying above and being forced to surrender to something that he had once controlled.

And for a reason he didn’t know, he didn’t want her seeing him like this.

“Please….” She was practically begging him, changing positions to sit on her knees, looking at him with acute worry, one stronger than he’d ever seen before. She was scared for him, about to burst into tears.

And that look broke something else inside him. He hated seeing her scared or in pain. It’d always made something in him contort in discomfort, in fear, in uncertainty, for she was the strongest person he knew. And he especially hated it when he knew that he was the very cause of it.

He wanted to embrace her, hug her and love her till her features melted into one of comfort. He wanted to murmur to her that she shouldn’t be worried about him because he wasn’t worth it. But with her sad eyes reflecting the city lights, he had only one option.

“He used a mind probe,” he simply said, taking a deep breath, averting his gaze once more. “He saw everything, Lexi. Every memory I’ve ever had, every experience, every emotion.”

Poe began to shake, his hands trembling to the point that she took the cup of tea away from him.

“He saw every private, intimate, secret thought I’ve had in my life. Every thought I’ve had regarding my mother, my father, my friends, myself, you…”

His eyelids fluttered in quick succession, holding back tears, desperately trying to keep his voice from cracking. She felt her fingers interlace with his, holding him steady in his moment of vulnerability.

“Every aspiration I’ve ever had, every desire, every regret. It was like he reached into my head without permission, and took everything out, examined it, scrutinized it, before shoving it all back in.

“And…and I don’t even know why it bothers me. It shouldn’t. I shouldn’t be this weak.” His voice grew in urgency. His pent-up emotions spiraled out. “I mean…how many others has he done this to? I doubt he even remembers any of the stuff he saw, so…so why does it makes me feel so…violated?”

Poe often imagined people’s minds as walls filled with hundreds, thousands, millions of memories. It felt as if Ren had barged into his and then examined and ripped the memories off one at a time, throwing them to the ground like filth. 

The pilot stared at the ground, his breath coming quicker as he forced it to slow. Before he knew it, she was wrapping her arms around him, cradling his neck beneath her chin. And then he was sobbing, his whole body trembling.

She held him tighter as he shook, painful noises escaping his throat, murmuring things to him. He was physically releasing every anxiety and fear he’d had since his time on the Finalizer.

“You’re okay, baby,” she whispered. “I’m right here.”

He clung to her, breathing her in, feeling her. In his vulnerable state of mind, an overwhelming sense of gratefulness found him.

There were things that were always going to be eternal. War, violence, pain. Patience, honor, and affection. Space. Life. The stars.

And her love. She’d always been there; she always was. And he relished the thought that she would be far into the future. “I love you so much,” he whispered.

...::::.. ..::::.. ..::::.. ..::::..

If you wish to be tagged on future works, just leave a reply/comment or do the form on my Masterlist for specific preferences.

Taglist: @synical-paradox​ @dark-academics-and-florals​ @paper-n-ashes​

“Violation” originally posted on AO3 on 11/23/20.

[mirekat]

All right, I’ve been sort-of tagged in this post twice now (directly by @left-trek and implicitly by @little-brisk, thanks to you both!) so let’s do this:

1. Name/nickname: Adrian/there are no good nicknames for Adrian

2. Gender:  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ is the short answer

3. Star sign: Google tells me I’m still a Libra

4. Height: 5′8″

5. Time: 8:26am

6. Birthday: 24 September

7. Favorite bands: I cannot concentrate on more than one thing at once, so I listen to way less music than most people and am defensive about it. Also my taste in bands is incoherent. The Mountain Goats, obviously. The Magnetic Fields. I am contractually obligated to like Against Me! Korpiklaani, Eluveitie, other geeky folk and symphonic metal outfits. Erstwhile alt-hip hop duo The Blue Scholars. Every so often I get into a Fleetwood Mac loop and listen to nothing but Rumours nonstop for a week. Whatever, I contain multitudes.

8. Favorite solo artists: Ok, this one is way too hard to winnow down. When I was a teen I decided to pledge myself to a local diva like some 19th c gay aesthete; does that count? That diva is Talise Trevigne, whose career I have faithfully followed from the cardboard sets of the SF Lyric Opera to the Grammies. I was insufferable as a teen and I SHOULD be bullied for it but she’s real good.

9. Song stuck in my head: I was debating how to classify Deltron 3030 so now I have the hook from "3030″ locked in for the rest of the day.

10. Last movie I watched: Star Wars I think.

11. Last show I watched: Star Trek: Enterprise, as many of you will know from my regular practice of dunking on it.

12. When did I create this blog: October 2020

13. What I post: Star Trek, other space shows, academia, birds, my feelings, my cat

14. Last thing I googled: “[University redacted] Library late returns” lol

15. Other blogs: a long-defunct trans history blog

16. Do I get asks: none yet

17. Why I chose my URL: to match my AO3 URL

18. Following: 36. I tried following more but quickly got overwhelmed.

19. Followers: 43. 

20. Average hours of sleep: 7.5 under non-manic or depressed conditions

21. Lucky number: I actually haven’t ever thought about this. 

22. Instruments: I’m a choirboy, so my voice mostly. Piano, ukulele, baritone sax, several gamelan instruments to varying degrees of competence.

23. What I’m wearing: jeans, plain black tee, a layer of cat hair.

24. Dream job: Trans Karl Marx

25. Dream trip: Anywhere outside a 5K radius of my apartment really. But beyond that, going back to London or Singapore--partly to see all the friends I haven’t seen in a year or more, partly, uh, to go to the archives. I really, really miss archives.

26. Favorite food: garlic

27. Nationality: American, hopefully not forever

28. Favorite song: this is impossible but if I had to listen to only one song for the rest of forever I guess Monteverdi’s madrigal arrangement of ‘Lasciatemi Morire’ bc it’s lovely and I am early modern emo trash.

29. Last book I read: Last book I finished was a reread of To the Lighthouse, which staggered me afresh after so many years. Now I’m midway through Yaa Gyasi’s Transcendent Kingdom. It’s very different from her last book, less linear, with a neuroscientist narrator whose attention to detail is alternately clinical and lyrical but always strikingly precise. A distancing effect that feels both true to the character and helpful in giving a framework for all the narrator’s wrestling with: basically, figuring out how to exist in the face of mental illness and her family’s fragility and American racism and a fundamentalist Christianity that no longer works for her and an academic rationalism that also doesn’t work. It’s a lot to balance and I’m waiting to see how Gyasi wraps it up but it’s been compelling so far. 

30. Top 3 fictional universes I’d like to live in: Right now the only ones I can think of are Star Trek--albeit on a planet, not in Starfleet--and Ian M. Banks’s The Culture--albeit like, living on a chill orbital with no job, not in Special Circumstances. Send me to the parts of the utopia we never see because nothing ever happens there.

Honestly I don’t know if I even have 20 mutuals who haven’t already seen this and/or filled it out, and tagging gives me serious social anxiety. So I’m just going to say: if any of my mutuals sees this and feels like filling it out, I’d love to know more about you! Consider yourselves tagged!

[carveus]

I posted 11,327 times in 2021

60 posts created (1%)

11267 posts reblogged (99%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 187.8 posts.

I added 7,281 tags in 2021

#q - 7205 posts

#the square mile - 15 posts

#vtm - 12 posts

#loki spoilers - 10 posts

#loki - 9 posts

#ezrabet - 7 posts

#7th sea - 7 posts

#fiction - 6 posts

#bethany - 5 posts

#marianne de la croix - 5 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#and that's only because whilst my brother and his friend would conceed to playing robin hood with me i was a girl and had to play the girl

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

🤕

"You know Hanna, I really think that I'm well enough to get out of bed..."

"Rhys said that you were to stay in bed and make sure to rest and recover."

"That, he did. But I think he would make an exception for- Okay, maybe not. You know you have a very intense glare. It's kinda intimidating..."

Bethany looked down at her lap, fingers awkwardly twining together and shifting as she took a moment to think.

"If I promise not to move, can you go into the kitchen and get the tupperware with cookies in? We could share them?"

A pause. A nod.

Well, if she was stuck for now, at least she was stuck with company and cookies.

6 notes • Posted 2021-09-18 02:21:54 GMT

#4

The unique agony of having finished a show, enjoyed it, then going to ao3 and finding that it has a grand total of 10 (ten) fics,

10 notes • Posted 2021-02-27 14:48:37 GMT

#3

So, I’ve just come out of a spate of low energy days, which is good because it’s allowed me to catch up with the chores I’d let slip, but now I’m caught up I don’t know what to do with myself?

I’m finding myself spending time curled up in bed doing nothing really, because that’s the time I’d normally spend in bed convincing myself to get up to do chores. And I’m still early enough in having the odd spate of good energy and getting ahead of what I need to do that there’s nothing to fill that gap.

But I also have to clarify that my definition of good energy is being able to do a chore on time, and have enough energy to cook dinner and interact with my friends online. I’m still operating well below the level that’s considered average, there’s still a lot I can’t do, but I feel bad because there’s room for more right now, and I’m not doing anything with it?

Maybe if this good energy persists for a bit longer, I’ll work it out, but for now, I’m caught up on laundry, my sheets are clean, my desk is tidier than it’s been in months; and these are good accomplishments.

10 notes • Posted 2021-03-03 01:52:51 GMT

#2

Mmmmm.... got that good emotional trauma from tonight's game

11 notes • Posted 2021-06-29 03:47:08 GMT

#1

You know it's going to be a good campaign when your Kenku Warlock baby birds Goodberries to their dying team mate.

13 notes • Posted 2021-04-01 02:23:44 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[peachcitt]

fanfic year in review - 2020

hey laddies i was tagged by both @miabrown007 and @strangerahne to do this, so without further ado here we go!

1) List of fics completed this year in the order they were finished: 

Bone Tea (march) // All These Selfish Feelings (march) // Doomed from the Start (may) // Wouldn’t it be Nice (may) // my favorite set of stairs is the one up to your room (may) // screw the classics, and screw you for believing in them (june) // Friendship Bracelets (june) // Those Benevolent Stars (june) // the dark and the stained glass watchers (july) // Bloodsucker (july) // Messy Advances (july) // Happy Endings, the Sun, and Other Steps to Madness (july) // Guessing Game (august) // Passion Fruit Sunset [zine piece, currently unavailable] (september) // Home Coming [zine piece, currently unavailable] (november) // here (november) // bread and oranges (november) // clarity (november) // burgundy, near black (december) // About Emma Martin (december) // cherries (december) // falling, flying (december) // aloe-infused fuzzy socks (december)

23 fics??? okay well looking at it like this just makes me feel ridiculous

2) Number of words written:

219,184 words (which includes my unfinished fics on ao3 and the wips i haven’t posted)

again looking at it like this just makes me feel ridiculous

3) Your most popular fic:

friendship bracelets - the first in the series of my homoerotic college au zukka fics. honestly? i can’t even say im surprised

4) Your personal fav:

MAN this is hard. okay it’s gotta be a four-way tie between bone tea, those benevolent stars, home coming, and screw the classics and screw you for believing in them but really i could be lying because i wrote so much this year (i guess now last year?) that i was really really proud of 

5) Your fav scene:

okay i have a lot of favorites but for right now i’ll say: the scene in chapter 3 of those benevolent stars when adrien and marinette are sitting on the banks of the seine and they talk about their favorite colors and adrien’s soulmate - it’s such a quiet and gentle moment, and because you know that their favorite colors are based off each other’s eyes but only marinette knows that and because you know adrien is talking about his soulmate to his soulmate and she knows it but he doesn’t. it’s full of such beautiful, tragic dramatic irony that i just love so so much

6) A fic or scene that challenged you:

hm okay the last few chapters of bone tea were definitely challenging not only because of, like, the big fight scenes (which, im not really comfortable writing fight scenes) but also because i had take all of the mess of emotions in bt and wrap it all up into a conclusion that needed to be satisfying. the same could be said about happy endings, the sun, and other steps to madness (minus the fight scene part)

writing impure - my changeling jim au fic - has also been a fun challenge because i basically watch trollhunters episodes as i write, examining each line of dialogue and each character interaction and seeing how that scene or relationship would be changed by the fact that jim is a changeling. it was also a little challenging to keep everything fresh and new - especially at the times when the dialogue from the show stayed the same in the fic, but so far, im really really happy with the way the fic is going

7) A line of writing you’re proud of:

off the top of my head are these two lines, both from screw the classics:

It was the ‘Daisy, Daisy, Daisy’s, over and over. Like her name conveyed some sort of deeper meaning that she expected Daisy to be able to understand. Like if she repeated it enough, it would become a sort of prayer that God would listen to, that He would enact to make Daisy put her fists away for once in her pitiful life. It was just “Daisy, Daisy, Daisy” over and over until her name stopped sounding like a name, like a word, and it was just a sound to fill the silence so that neither of them would have to talk about the way Basira’s touch lingered each time she wiped blood away or the way Daisy would always sit so that her knees touched Basira’s even though they were on the floor and there was more than enough room for them to breathe different air.

and

But sometimes Jon was easier than Basira. He didn’t have any of Basira’s softness - he was all edges and sharp lines. His elbows were basically knives, and his hips were edged with broken glass.

the first paragraph i really love because there’s almost a rhythm to it - like poetry - and i love the sound of it and all that it means in the context of the fic. 

the second little bit i just love because every so often i think about it and i love the imagery and metaphor and the way it fits jon - in canon and in this fic. in this fic, they’re all in high school so jon is gangly and skinny and bony and in general, he’s just abrasive and a little rude. this description of him i just love (and the way i described him from martin’s pov in doomed from the start; “Jonathan Sims looked, even from a distance, as if he was perpetually smelling something awful. His features, just left of handsome, were marred by furrowed eyebrows and a distasteful frown.”)

8) A comment that touched you:

LITERALLY SO MANY????? the comments on the final chapter of bone tea, telling me that the story was something that they loved and found comfort in, the long comments on any of my fics detailing their exact favorite parts, the comments that were just short jokes that made me laugh out loud - literally i can’t pinpoint one. im just so thankful to have written things that people respond to with such kindness and love

9) Something that inspired your writing:

music!!!!!! i found myself making playlists for a few of my fics this year or listening to specific old playlists of mine for the right mood for a fic, and it’s really inspired me to write

also, as always, my own personal experiences. i thought and felt a lot this year, and i think in every single one of the fics i posted this year, you can probably find a central thought or feeling driving it that no doubt comes from my personal life

10) Your proudest accomplishment (that one scene; finally finishing that one fic; posting your first fic; etc):

finishing bone tea and tying the title to the fic!!!!!!!! finishing happy endings and also tying that title to the fic!!!!!! getting accepted into two different zines and working with two different amazing artists and completing those fics!!!!!!!! literally writing anything at all!!!!!!!!!

11) Do you have any writing goals for the next year?

i think mainly i just want to write, you know? i want to stop putting so much pressure on myself, because this past year i put so much pressure on myself that i was constantly feeling like i was underperforming (which was, like, super untrue, but you know how it goes) so when i wasn’t writing i felt like i was wasting time. i mean, don’t get me wrong, i had so much fun writing and creating all of these things that im so so proud of, it’s just the space in between writing sessions that i want to let myself breathe in. i don’t want to dread thinking about writing for fun anymore because that’s not fun

besides that, i think my other goals are to just continue forward with my unfinished projects - impure, the new wave, the bone tea extras - and to officially start the other two long fic ideas i have for mlb that ive been really excited about for a long while. this past year i wrote a lot of one shots (like. so many. oh my god) so maybe this year i might focus on long projects. who knows though definitely not me it’ll be a surprise for all of us

=

anyway that’s all!! thanks mia and strangerahne for tagging me!! ive been needing a lot of reminders lately that i have, in fact, written this year, and having to, like, do math and scroll through my ao3 page and all my google docs has been really enlightening so thanks so much for this

i tag: @lnc2, @chatnoirinette, @deinde-prandium, and @rosekasa! y’all don’t have to do this, but i’d love to see how y’all felt about your works this year and also to see y’all love yourselves very much because you deserve it. also literally anyone can do this you can just say i tagged you i don’t mind it’ll be our secret - i highly encourage it because it’s very sweet and very fun to look back on all you’ve accomplished this year

<3<3<3<3

[bluejayblueskies]

a rose by any other name would smell as sweet

Part 23 of Whumptober 2020

Fandom: The Magnus Archives Characters: Jonathan Sims, Martin Blackwood Tags: Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Very Very Long Naps

Read on Ao3

Martin remembers what it had been like, vaguely—to step over the threshold of Upton House and feel months of sleeplessness and hunger and thirst and filth accumulate on and within him all at once. He’d almost forgotten what it felt like—being exhausted to your very core, being startlingly mortal in your physical needs. Being human. He’d reveled in it, just for a moment, as his mind recognized his body’s old habits and sighed with a sort of content.

 Then, weakness and fatigue had crushed him with the weight of a thousand sufferings, and he’d collapsed. For 71 hours, apparently. He supposes when they say you can’t catch up on sleep, they don’t count on you staying awake for a literally uncountable amount of days.

 Now, as he watches the last eye overhead blink out of existence, its gaze burning through him until the very end, he feels that same crushing exhaustion return tenfold, nearly collapsing him on the spot, as the world lets out a collective sigh and mortality makes itself known once more. His hand tightens around Jon’s as he feels his knees weaken and his mind begin to turn fuzzy and blurred, and he knows that Jon’s feeling the same by the way he sways slightly, bumping into Martin’s side.

 “That’s… that’s it then?” Martin manages to say, tongue heavy with sleep that longs to claim it. “We… we fixed everything?”

 “I…” Jon trails off, and Martin thinks it’s just the exhaustion catching up to him, but when he glances over with blurry eyes, he sees that Jon’s forehead is knit in confusion. “I don’t know,” he says quietly.

 “You… you don’t…” Martin frowns, but the words slip from his tongue like water on wax and his mind can’t quite catch them.

 “I… I can’t…” Jon slumps fully into Martin’s side, the sharp angle of his elbow pressing into Martin’s stomach. “Too many… threads…”

 He sways, just once, and then collapses against Martin. And when darkness comes to claim Martin as well, he can do nothing but let it.

.

When Martin finally feels sleep release him, it does so to bright yellow light streaming in through a dusty window and a scratchy woven comforter slung over him that’s just a bit too hot. He groans and shifts, and his elbow comes into contact with something soft and pliant.

 He looks over, and a vibrant warmth curls within his chest.

 Jon’s next to him, still asleep and relaxed in a way Martin hasn’t seen him in months—hell, maybe in years. The persistent dark smudges under his eyes have faded into the barest hint of grey, and the lack of tension in his body makes Martin realize with a start that he’s actually sleeping, all of himself contained within his own mind, no parts stretched to touch the minds of others, to consume their suffering even under the guise of rest.

 He feels so unbelievably, uncontrollably happy, just for a moment, as peace finally begins to make its home in his chest.

 Then, he remembers what had come after the peace and happiness—the blank stares, the lost trains of thought and memories that slipped through fingers like water, the lack of Jon Martin saw when he looked into Jon’s eyes as they stepped back over the threshold and into the thrumming fear that called to them—and he’s seized by an all-too familiar terror.

 He reaches for Jon, but his hand stills just shy of his shoulder. He hesitates, just a moment, before his fingers curl back in toward his palm and he slowly retracts his hand. It might be the same as before, he thinks with a twisting sensation deep within him. It might not. Either way, he just- he can’t interrupt what little true peace Jon may have left. Not over a fear that can be dealt with in its own time. If it need be dealt with at all.

 Besides, his stomach is currently doing its very best to consume itself, and his tongue is dry and sticky with thirst, so he carefully extracts himself from the bed and moves to the door of the bedroom. It hasn’t escaped his notice that this is not the safehouse, nor is it anywhere that strikes a sense of familiarity within Martin. His hand closes on the door handle, and he offers a quick prayer to a God he has long since stopped believing in that this safety has been offered by genuine hands.

 He opens the door and steps out.

 He’s alone. Perhaps that should be a relief, to not have fallen into yet another trap with no escape. Perhaps he should be disappointed, to not see a familiar face—though there had been so few left at the end.

 He just feels tired again. So, with a sigh and weary steps, he makes his way to the kitchen to put the kettle on.

.

Upon the fridge, adhered with a magnet of a black-and-white cartoon spider:

 Martin,

 I do hope you and Jon are doing well. I suppose congratulations are in order—it couldn’t have been easy, bringing the world back into balance. Of course, now that the Ceaseless Watcher has—well, has ceased watching, I suppose—there’s a gap to fill, but don’t concern yourselves with that. We have it quite covered. Just rest now—you’ve earned it.

 As for the house—it’s yours. Call it a thank-you gift for all you’ve done these past few years. You’ll find the cabinets well-stocked, and there’s a university nearby with two staff openings that I believe you’ll find suit your needs exactly. It really is a lovely little town—quite similar to that Scottish one you both seemed so fond of. That one’s gone now, of course, remade in this world’s recreation, so this will have to do. But don’t worry—you’ll like it here.

 Also, please do let Jon know that should he need anything—anything at all—all he has to do is ask. After all, this is a wonderful new world that we live in—I think he’ll find that it will suit him quite nicely. Do make sure he remembers that.

 Annabelle Cane

 In the other room, Jon blinks awake.

.

They’re sitting in one of the green spaces of the university, on a wooden bench shadowed by a spiraling tree that looms just a bit too tall overhead. The birds that chirp from its branches are slightly too low-pitched, just a bit too harsh. Though they’re the only ones who notice. Who know. Who, when the world had been flipped on its axis, had been fortunate enough to Watch.

 Jon stares at the employee badge in his hand, proudly proclaiming him a new professor of information and library science, with a detached look in his eyes. “I… I just asked for it, Martin,” he says, running the pad of his thumb over the block letters that spell out his name: Dr. Jonathan Blackwood-Sims. “He… when he handed it to me, he said, ‘Welcome aboard,’ but his eyes, they were… I don’t think he actually saw me.”

 Martin fiddles with his own employee badge, labeling him Admissions Coordinator like that’s something he’s even remotely qualified for, and remembers with an unsettling twist of his stomach the way the man who handed him his badge had looked as he moved, his motions just a bit too stilted to be quite his own. He thinks of the note, left pinned to the fridge, and Jon’s maintained coherency, and the gap to be filled, and doesn’t particularly like the picture it paints. “Maybe he was just… tired,” Martin says, knowing it’s a bad excuse but letting it blanket them anyway. “And… thought you were someone else.”

 The dry look Jon shoots Martin matches that of the picture on his employee badge, and Martin gives up. “Yeah, okay, fine. Point taken.” They sit in silence for a few moments, letting the sounds of wind through the leaves and the gentle murmur of students passing by numb them to the growing unease within. Then, quietly, Martin says, “So that’s what Annabelle meant, then? When she said to- to ask.”

 Jon stares at the ground. “I don’t know.”

 “Because I would have thought that with the Eye gone, you’d be- I don’t know, released or something, not just pawned off to the closest available fear—”

 “I don’t know, Martin!” Jon’s eyes are alight with a raw desperation as he turns them from the ground to Martin. “I- I don’t know. I don’t feel different, but- but I also don’t feel like I’m fading, like I’m losing myself like I did before. I don’t know if that means that I’m- I’m just severed completely, if that’s even possible, or if I’m tied to the Web now, or if it’s something new entirely, something in between the Eye and the Web, or if it’s none of those things! I can’t know anymore.” Jon’s hand grips the badge so tightly Martin can see it cutting red lines into the flesh of his hand, and a subtle terror begins to creep in behind the desperation in Jon’s eyes. “I can’t See anything, but apparently I can Ask, and I don’t know which is worse.”

 “Oh, Jon,” Martin says softly, and he puts his arm around Jon’s shoulders and pulls him tightly to his side. Some of the tension bleeds out of Jon as Martin presses a gentle kiss to his temple. “I’m sorry.”

 “It’s.” Jon pauses, his breath hitching slightly. “It’s fine. It’s… whatever this is, I don’t think it’s something I can get rid of. Not… not like before. I’m… I’m stuck. Trapped.” Jon lets out a short, bitter laugh. “Though I suppose that’s rather the point, isn’t it?”

 “Maybe.” Martin glances out over the green, at the flowers coming into full bloom in the warm early summer air and the stone pavers that carve their way across the grass. It’s so alive, in a way that fills him with so much love and longing and joy it hurts him to contain it all, and he gets to share it with Jon. Jon, who he loves, who he married as soon as he possibly could because he couldn’t bear to lose his chance again. Jon, who he’d longed for for so long, through the Archives and the fears and the terrifying moments in that destroyed world when Martin thought he would lose him. Jon, who is his joy, chasing away the tendrils of fog that once curled around his heart and that still nip at his heels when he isn’t paying close enough attention. He can think of a thousand different words to describe what this world is to him, and what this world is to Jon, but trapped is not one of them.

 The Web doesn’t do favors, and it doesn’t offer kindness without expecting something in return. But this, Martin thinks, feels less like a kindness or a favor, and feels more like a thank you. And when faced with the scale of human suffering, a thank you feels quite all right.

 “It could be worse,” is all he says in the end, because he knows that Jon doesn’t want to hear another placation about how it’ll all be fine. Then, with a small smile, he adds, “After all, we have jobs now, and there’s a Sun in the sky again, and I love you.”

 There’s still uncertainty and distrust brimming in Jon’s eyes, undercut with something Martin thinks might be curiosity, but he lets himself relax into Martin’s side with a sigh. “I… suppose.” His hand finds Martin’s, and he threads their fingers together and squeezes, just once. “I love you too.”

 The wind blows through Martin’s curls, bringing with it the scent of cut grass and far-off rain, and he lets it soothe the last vestiges of nervousness that linger at the back of his mind, telling him that though this is a world that has righted itself, it has not quite given them the courtesy of being free.

[jaxsteamblog]

Cherish

Click here to read the full fic on AO3

The debut was solely for the Avatar and Katara often found herself with time on her hands. Thuy was invited to teas and lunches with various parts of her so-called extended family. And because of it, Katara was amused by the constant rebuffing of the Fire Lord as Thuy took her appointments with Zuko or Azula, if not them both together. Small agreements were made, as Thuy agreed that she would study with Tenzin and his family. She also mentioned how pleased she would be if she were able to learn from someone so talented as Azula, which made the Fire Lord look smug. Zuko only rolled his eyes when he glanced at Katara at dinner; it was all politics.

It was obvious then that the teenager had been kept in hiding. Her tribe had not been so foolish or backwater to risk exposure and had relied on the mysterious properties of the swamp to protect her. Someone had also been teaching her what to expect when she did emerge. Certainly they identified her early and also saw some sort of wisdom in exposing her to the rest of the world before she turned sixteen.

Thuy from the Swamp was looking to be a very shrewd Avatar.

The Airbenders gave it no mind. Aang’s grandchildren were more preoccupied with the ice palace itself. Ice made for an almost frictionless surface and Ikki’s fiancé was a physics professor from a college near the Eastern Air Temple. It was during their experimental play that Thuy looked like a teen, her eyes wide as she watched the Airbenders effortlessly slide up walls before falling onto a bed of spun air.

The Water Tribe members all had one lunch together, right before the debut. Katara sat down next to Thuy and across from the Avatar’s parents.

“Have you been enjoying yourself Thuy?” Katara asked, settling her napkin over her lap.

��I have, though it’s all a bit exhausting.” Thuy answered with a strained smile.

“I can’t imagine. I’m not really looking forward to having to deal with it myself.” Katara said.

“I’m sure it’ll be interesting with your boyfriend.”

“My what?”

“Aren’t you dating Prince Zuko? You keep wandering off together.” Thuy said and Katara cleared her throat.

“No, we’re not dating. Like you said, it’d be too,” Katara looked down the length of the table at the others. “Interesting.”

“I know that everyone was looking for me, during the war.” Thuy said. She paused as the serving staff came around with the first course, smiling at the older man who set down her plate.

“I know that it cost a lot of Waterbenders their lives. My tribe protected me because they hoped for a day when the world would be united.” Thuy continued and Katara looked down at the bright salad leaves and bits of pickled kelp.

“I think that’s a lot to put on a child.” Katara remarked.

“You fought in the war when you were my age right?” Thuy asked.

Katara pierced a bit of her salad, taking a moment to eat before answering.

“That’s right.” She finally said.

“Now that we are in a time of peace, what do you cherish the most?” Thuy questioned.

“My freedom.”

“But your freedom to do what?”

Katara looked at Thuy, examining her face for some unknown sign. Her eyes were a seagreen and bright against her dark complexion.

“Unfortunately, my thoughts on romance might do more harm than good.” Katara admitted.

“You know, I don’t think romance could ever do anything too horrible.” Thuy said and shook her hair.

“And you are the Avatar.” Katara added.

Thuy laughed and jabbed at the leaves on her plate. “Right! So you should listen to me.”

After the debut, as Thuy was off being interviewed, Katara hung back in the empty reception hall. She ran her fingers over the table with the row of microphones, walking silently on the plush carpet. The rows of empty folding chairs felt like she should be waiting for something, but the partially empty bottles of water and discarded press tags on the floor meant the show was over.

It had been a lot easier than she thought to deal with. Arnook did most of the talking and made some comments about the unification of the three tribes. Thuy demurred; there was no official authority figure of the Swamp Tribe and she knew she was too young to fill such a role.

The press had a lot of questions for the young Avatar and Katara felt like they didn’t know why she herself was up there. So when the press conference was over, they all followed the royalty and Katara was able to hang back.

A door to the hall opened and Katara looked up, expecting to see either Sokka or Suki. Instead, Zuko ducked his head in and looked around.

“Hey. How’d it go?” He asked as he stepped into the hall, closing the door behind him. Katara turned to lean against the table, shrugging her shoulders.

“Fine. It was funny to watch them try to ask Thuy why she spoke so well and not sound racist.” She said.

Zuko walked toward her and dipped down to pick up a discarded press badge. Holding out a mimed microphone, he held the badge to his chest.

“Question for Master Katara, how do you manage to always be so cute?” He asked and held the microphone out to her. The blatant statement stunned her and Katara’s face warmed so much she could feel her ears tingle. Covering her face with her hands, she smiled as she heard Zuko chuckle.

“Oh I see, you’re such a heavy hitter that you can’t handle the little things.” Zuko murmured and tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear.

Katara made a whining noise and swatted at him, turning away and still trying to cover her face with her other hand. Zuko caught her free hand and kissed it, making her laugh. He then pulled on her, turning her back toward him and putting his other hand on her waist. Katara took in a small breath, placing her free hand on his shoulder. In that moment, he could have almost stepped them into a waltz.

“You’re dodging the question.” He said.

“Zuko.”

“Hmm?”

“I really like you.”

Zuko’s smile faded, but he didn’t look upset. It was a mixture of pure confusion, as if he had just been informed that his hair was actually purple.

“You do?” He asked.

“That usually goes along with the kissing.”

“Okay well,” He stammered and Katara laughed. “I knew you found me attractive.” He then furrowed his brow before adding, “Somehow.”

Zuko relaxed his grip on her hand and she put both of her arms over his shoulders while he held her about the waist.

“Well there is that. But I also like you, as a person. Romantically.” Katara stated firmly.

“So what does that mean?” Zuko asked.

“That means that if you like me romantically back, I want to get to know you.” She replied.

“Ah.”

“The Avatar told me to do so.”

Zuko smiled and spun her into a dip. Katara squealed as she tightened her hold and he smiled down at her.

“Well, if listening to the Avatar was good enough for Sozin, who am I to disagree?” He asked. He kissed her and Katara felt her body relax. Zuko held her fast, not in fear of dropping her but simply because he wanted to hold her. And Katara finally let herself be held.

This was the sort of moment she cherished.

This was what she had fought for.

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[thebiasrekkers]

Shadow’s Birthright | MYG

Chapter 01: Strength of Silence

Plot: Riding in on thunder and lightning, two princes are born. But a crown cannot be shared. It can only be worn by one and one alone. The hands of man have separated the brothers, allowing one to live in wealth and comfort inside the palace while the other grows up among commoners. But Fate cannot be destroyed by the hands of man. A shared destiny reunites the brothers; one to become a king who descends into madness and the other will rise as a dragon whose journey has only just begun in order to claim a crown he does not desire to have.

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: series | historical!au | fantasy!au | angst | romance | drama | tragedy

Pairing: Min Yoongi (Lee Yoon) x Female OC (Kalina Shuri)

Warnings: Historical setting, caste system, magic/sorcery, graphic violence, disturbing graphic images, religious tones, angst, slow burn, eventual smut

Previous Chapters: Prologue

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 3,964

Tag List: @luxekook​, @pinkpjmin​, @btsaudge​, @flowerwrites06​, @stillcopingxx​, @taevkimchi​, @aroseforyoongi​, @vivpurple7​, @happilystrongthroughthedark​, @sw33tnight​, @nikkitane​, 

AN: Sorry this has taken so long for me to get out. With all the madness happening in the world, I just needed a break and decided to throw myself into just writing. I’ve received so much love on the prologue for this series so I’m happy to present you all with the first chapter. It’s a hefty time jump, but who doesn’t like one of those, am I right? If anyone else would like to be added to the tag list, feel free to drop me a line!

P.S. Please bear in mind that while the historical accuracy will be mostly correct, I am setting this in a time period in Joseon history where there was no such thing as a king who had a twin brother. Obviously that’s where the fiction/creative freedom is going to come in. Everything else will be period accurate, trust and believe.

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

“Silence is a great source of strength.” - Lao Tzu

23 Years Later

Yoongi sat on the edge of a large rock, his eyes peering out over the deep grays and blues of the wide mountainous landscape. Summer mornings were his favorite and while he knew he could get an extra hour or two of sleep, seeing the sun rise above the mountain tops always filled him with a new vigor. There was just something about greeting the day that allowed him to truly feel alive. He could never fully explain it.

A soft whimper issued beside him and he craned his neck to look at the gray and black wolf seated at his feet. Pulling the sprig of barley from his mouth, Yoongi reached down to pet the wolf’s head and it panted happily in response; its thick tail swinging back and forth at the attention it received from its master. It made a small noise from pleasure, the sound of its panting intensifying little by little with each pet.

Chuckling, he scratched the canine between its ears. “You’re so needy, San-ah,” he teased, watching the wolf stand on all fours as he peered his pale blue eyes up at him. “You’ve got to be the luckiest fool in the entire kingdom of Joseon.”

The wolf barked happily, spinning in place, and then plopped his rump back down on the grass. This caused Yoongi to laugh loudly and he waved the barley sprig at the wolf’s nose. 

Growing up in the countryside, it wasn’t uncommon for wolves to linger around in the forests and mountains. But for a young cub to get abandoned during the Winter was more than Yoongi could stand. After begging his father to let him take the small wolf pup home, promising to take care of him, the two of them were inseparable. The other villagers were concerned with Yoongi raising a predator. But after being at his side for the last four years, the village came to appreciate San and often showered him with the same amount of affection as he did; if not more.

Yoongi could safely say that San was his best friend in the world. 

The wolf leaped up, pressing his large paws into Yoongi’s lap and began licking his face. San’s tongue caressed over the scar tissue on the right side of his face and he gently shoved the animal away. His fingers pressed over the scar, tracing the pads up from his cheek all the way above his eyebrow. Sighing, he tossed the barley sprig away and motioned for San to follow him just as the morning sun crested over the mountains. 

“Let’s head back,” he said, reaching down behind the rock to pick up the large wooden pail of spring water, “you know how the old man gets when he doesn’t have his morning tea.”

Again, San barked, before tearing off ahead of him to sniff out the trail. Yoongi could navigate his way through the forest and mountains with his eyes closed, but his companion always insisted on being careful. He’d barely made it twenty paces before the wolf returned and walked patiently at his side. 

The trek through the forest and down the mountain path was short, but only because Yoongi knew it so well. San barreled down the expansive green hill just as his father appeared from the doorway, a large axe draped over his shoulders. Yoongi rushed down the hill with hurried steps, cradling the wooden bucket in his arms so he wouldn’t accidentally spill the water in his haste.

“Father!” Yoongi called, to which the broad-shouldered and bronze-skinned man lifted his head just as he finished petting San’s back. “I can take care of that!” 

The lower half of his father’s face was covered in facial hair; always well-groomed. His dark eyes, while usually intimidating, always held a certain degree of warmth in them when he looked at Yoongi. Instead of answering him, he simply straightened his posture and proceeded to head toward the side of their modest home to proceed cutting wood for the fire.

Sighing, Yoongi gave up trying to convince his father to let him take care of the more laborious chores again. Instead, he shooed San into the house and started preparing breakfast. It didn’t take Yoongi long to see they were missing quite a few things from the food storage that would need to be replaced soon. Namely eggs, meat, and a few key vegetables.

“I’ll just have to do what I can,” he murmured as he began washing the barley in a small basin. Yoongi frowned. This wouldn’t be an issue if we lived closer to the village.

It wasn’t the first time he bitterly thought of how inconveniently far away they lived from the rest of the world. Yoongi only could go as far as the local village and that was a task and a half trying to convince his father to let him do even just that. When his father left every few years for days at a time to visit the Capital, Yoongi was forced to stay behind. He’d never been to the Crown City, not once. But he wanted to, insisting that he could get better books and even practice a trade or go to school. He could start working to take care of the household for a change.

Every time the matter was brought up, however, his father scowled and forbade him from thinking or speaking such foolishness. But to Yoongi, it wasn’t foolish. He believed he was trying to do his best by his father in wanting to take care of him. What father wouldn’t want that for their son? Why did he have to grow up differently from everyone else?

What little education he received was all self-taught. He kept most of his studies a secret, not wanting to anger or worry his father. But he knew that he would eventually have to marry and raise a family. Since his father didn’t want to pass along his knowledge, he had little choice but to strike out on his own and do what he could. His father wouldn’t be around forever and he couldn’t expect to spend his youth idling around.

The one thing his father did teach him, much to Yoongi’s persistence, was the ability to fight. 

A humble breakfast was completed and the two of them ate in relative silence. He watched his father sneak a few pieces of meat to San and the wolf lovingly spread itself across his lap. Yoongi shoved rice into his mouth in annoyance, chewing loudly but knowing that it wouldn’t actually bother either of them into paying him any attention.

“Weren’t you the one who told me to stop doing that?” Yoongi asked mid-chew. “He’s spoiled now because of you.”

His father leaned back and released a hearty chuckle that never failed to warm Yoongi’s heart. “Did I? I can’t recall.”

He scoffed, grabbing some of the spinach out of one of the wooden bowls. “Of course you can’t.” 

His eyes caught the scars on his father’s arms as he rubbed his hands lovingly over San’s fur. They were sword scars. Yoongi knew this, even if his father never told him so. Training him in martial arts was a clear enough indication that his father must have been a seasoned warrior in his younger years. The harshness of his training regiment was proof enough for Yoongi.

Min Dojin. 

His father never spoke much about his past, or even about Yoongi’s mother. After a childish tantrum, he came to accept that his mother must have died sometime after he was born. Those were the words that the villagers passed on and they never pitied Yoongi. It wasn’t because they were heartless. It was just a factor of life in their country. If anything, he was fortunate to still have his father, freeing him from the shackle of being branded an orphan. 

But on lonely nights, Yoongi missed the warmth of a mother’s embrace. Something he wasn’t familiar with, but felt that it was a distant memory that refused to fade from his mind. 

“There’s some money in the lock box if you need anything,” his father said suddenly, slicing through his thoughts.

He blinked, realizing that his father already cleared the dishes away. Had he spaced out that much? Scrambling to his feet, he tried to follow after his father and nearly tripped over San circling in between his legs. 

“Are you leaving for the Capital?”

A frown touched his father’s features. “Yes.”

Yoongi felt his brows furrow. He knew how much his father despised going to the Crown City and never understood why. Even though he offered to run his father’s errands for him, he was denied every opportunity to travel that far from home. It clearly wasn’t for his own safety. Yoongi could more than take care of himself. But he didn’t have the heart to accuse his own father of keeping anything from him.

“How long will you be gone this time?”

“Two weeks.”

Again, he blinked. This time from surprise. “T-That long?!” His eyes followed after his father as he began gathering his traveling satchel and walking cane. “You’re going to leave me here alone?”

His father chuckled as he turned and raised his brows at his son. “You have San.”

Folding his arms across his chest, he frowned. “You’re just so funny, Father.”

He laughed again. “Kali promised she would come by to check on you if you needed anything.”

“Kali-ssi?” A soft warmth touched his cheeks at the mention of Kali and he quickly averted his gaze. Yoongi cleared his throat loudly as he placed a hand on the back of his neck. “She needn’t bother.”

He could see his father’s cheeky grin without even having to look at it. “I asked her to.” Yoongi whipped his head around to peer into his father’s eyes. “She said she had some interesting stories to share with you.” His grin widened a measure. “And maybe a gift or two?”

Yoongi slid his fingers through his cropped bangs, tugging at them for a measure. “I see,” was all he said as he rubbed his hair between his thumb and forefinger. 

With a grunt, his father shouldered his satchel more comfortably and made his way toward the entrance of their home. San followed after him but stopped at the entryway, his tail wagging as he uttered a guttural whine from his throat. Yoongi watched his father lean down to pet the wolf between his ears, his eyes lifting to meet his own.

“If anything happens--”

“I know,” Yoongi replied softly, “take everything in the lock box and abandon the house.” He sighed. “Have a safe journey.”

He felt his father’s large hand fall onto his shoulder and for a moment, all they did was share a silent look. His father’s smile looked noticeably more solemn than usual. He patted Yoongi’s shoulder, then turned and made his way toward the edge of the forest. San barked after him before bolting off to chase a cluster of butterflies. Yoongi waited until his father disappeared from view before retreating back into the house. 

No matter how hard he tried, Yoongi couldn’t help but feel his chest tighten with worry.

Yoon sat perched in one of the large magnolia trees in his palace garden. He cradled his plum colored crown in his arms, the rich cobalt of his silk robes reflecting from the sunlight. The silver dragons embroidered in his clothing seemed to shimmer against the morning light and he sighed as he peered through the tree’s canopy. Eunuchs and maidservants alike were running around through his palace courtyard and he remained silent - purposely ignoring their screaming pleas for him to come out from hiding.

He scoffed, sliding his hands behind his head as he leaned back further into the trunk of the tree. No one’s hiding, he thought bitterly, you’re all just too incompetent to find me.

“Cheo-ha,” came a sharp whisper from above him, causing Yoon to sit up abruptly. 

“Who’s there?” he called back quietly, glancing every so often down to make sure none of his attendants heard him. “Reveal yourself!”

A long plaited braid suddenly dangled from above as he saw his younger sister’s face flashing an upside down smile. His frown deepened, not sure what her intentions were but Yoon knew he wanted nothing to do with them. She made a satisfied noise before dropping down hard into his lap. Yoon grunted, his arms flailing to both keep his balance and to maintain a hold of his crown. The princess plucked it easily from the air, preventing it from falling.

“You shouldn’t be so careless with your things, Crown Prince,” she said while smiling up at him. 

“It’s none of your concern,” Yoon snapped, attempting to snatch it back from her but she stretched her arms up and away from him. He threw her a harsh glare. “Saeryung-ah…” His tone dropped in a clear warning.

Saeryung pouted before she sighed. “Fine. You’re always no fun.” She motioned for him to lean forward a bit. “Let me put it back on for you.”

“Do as you like,” he said, leaning forward so she could replace the crown over his platinum blonde hair. Once it was situated comfortably, he peered at her as she continued to pout, kicking her legs up and down while still in his lap. “Why are you here, Saeryung-ah? Don’t you have lessons to attend to with your teacher?”

The princess puffed out one of her cheeks defiantly while folding her arms across her chest in a completely unbecoming fashion for female royals. “I’ve already memorized The Book of Filial Piety!”

Yoon sighed. “There are other books that you need to study from.” He reached out and pet his sister’s head and she turned to look at him. “Being a princess isn’t just a title. You have other responsibilities.”

“Not nearly as many as you do, Orabeoni.” 

The term caught Yoon off guard and he could only blink in stunned silence at her. The Princess must have realized her slipup because she quickly covered her mouth and gasped sharply. However, instead of chastising her, Yoon poked at her nose. Ever since he became Crown Prince, his studies and responsibilities steadily increased. His father was still able to rule the country, but there were disturbing rumors in the palace walls that spoke of his failing health. If that were the truth, then it would only be a matter of time before he was left to ascend to the throne.

Saeryung wouldn’t have any more opportunities to call him “big brother” when that day came.

“Forgive me, Crown Prince! I didn’t mean--”

“It’s fine, Saeryung-ah,” Yoon replied in a soothing tone as he petted her head again, “until I’m King, you can call me your Orabeoni.”

Her apologetic expression melted into one of pure joy. He smirked, then narrowed his eyes and pointed at her nose. She crossed her eyes at the sudden gesture.

“But you can only call me such when it is just the two of us. Understood?”

She nodded happily and was about to hug him when sudden outcries reached them from below.

“Seja Cheo-ha! Gongju-nim!”

“You both must come down from there at once!”

“We will be in terrible trouble if His Majesty finds out we were not at your sides!”

The two of them gazed down at their attendants frantically shifting below them. Rolling his eyes, Yoon scooped up his sister into his arms. Gasping slightly, she clung to his neck as he shifted to a standing position in the tree. His attendants continued to move about fearfully, screaming for him to be careful. He bit back a growl before leaping from the tree and into the air. His robes fluttered around him and he landed easily on the ground, setting his sister down and her servants were immediately at her side to straighten out her hair and robes.

“Princess, you shouldn’t be climbing trees like that!” her maid fussed as she finished tidying up Saeryung’s appearance. “Her Majesty, the Queen, would be appalled if she discovered it.”

Namgil, Yoon’s eunuch, appeared at his side and also adjusted his royal robes. He waited patiently for him to finish, not really listening to the slew of things flying from his attendant’s mouth. However, one particular sentence stood out and caused Yoon to pause, craning his neck to look straight into Namgil’s face.

“What did you say?” he asked, raising a curious brow.

The eunuch bowed his head low, unsure if he’d offended the Crown Prince or not. “Your Majesty requests your presence in his study.”

Yoon was suspicious. His father never called for him in his personal study. Let alone in the middle of the day. The King was fully aware of his itinerary for the afternoon. Yoon was scheduled for martial arts training and riding lessons. Was he supposed to rush through whatever matter his father wanted to speak with him about and make his instructors wait? 

If Father is in his study, then it’s a personal matter, Yoon surmised, sighing as he clasped his hands behind his back, which is surprising all by itself.

Narrowing his eyes, he gestured for Namgil to lead the way. He took two steps forward and paused to look around. “...where’s Bidam?”

Just as confused as he was, Namgil spun his body in every direction before groaning. “Curse that Bidam! Leaving the Crown Prince’s side for even a moment!”

Leaves rustled to his right and Yoon quickly pivoted on his back heel to avoid whatever was aimed for him. A sharp whistle tore through the air and he dipped down, his knee crashing to the grass as his shoulders tensed. He was on high alert now after two attacks were propelled in his direction. There would not be a third attempt while he was unarmed.

Namgil screamed after him as Yoon dashed toward the edge of the steps leading to his palace. Reaching underneath the wooden floor panels, he slid a sword from the sheath with one clean motion just as another object hurled itself directly at his head. Lifting the blade up, he blocked the object and felt the handle rattle between his fingers. Something landed at his feet and Yoon recognized it as a throwing knife. Smirking, the Crown Prince took a breath and swept the blade across his body.

Focus, he told himself, you know that he’s here. You just have to pinpoint his location.

The heavy thud of his own heart ached inside of Yoon’s chest. A bead of sweat formed on his brow and he was keenly aware that Namgil and the servants fled the scene. Probably to go fetch the Royal Guard. It was so unnecessary. He wasn’t defenseless. He’d made damn sure of that. 

Yoon licked his lips, the flutter of sparrow wings the signal he needed. Launching from his position, he roared at a nearby cluster of bushes. Seconds before he swept his blade down over the hedge, a body leaped from behind. Metal clashed against metal as sword blades made contact. Yoon felt his crown shift on his head before falling to the ground, revealing his pale hair in the morning sunlight. His muscles tensed when the sword clashed against his blade, forcing his boots to skid along the ground and he was now face to face with his assailant.

He grinned. “There you are, Bidam-ah.” Yoon’s voice was slightly strained from the force pushing against him.

Bidam, his bodyguard, grinned back at him. His dark hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, his thick brows lifting teasingly as he continued to push all of his weight behind his sword. “Good Morning, Seja Cheo-ha,” he said, sweat falling from his temple, “you’re a little slow this morning. Is your mind elsewhere, Your Highness?”

Yoon scoffed, taking a step forward and forcing Bidam to take one back. “My mind is always elsewhere. Haven’t you realized that by now?” 

He swung his leg out to kick Bidam but his bodyguard predicted this. He watched as Bidam backward somersaulted into the air. Just when Yoon was going to unleash his counterattack, several sets of feet thundered into his palace garden. He lowered his stance and Bidam immediately sheathed his sword as the Queen and her attendants rushed inside, followed swiftly by the Royal Guard. Yoon bit back a groan at the fearful expression etched over his mother’s features.

“Seja!” she cried, all but running to him. “Are you alright, my Prince?!” He stood patiently as she looked over his entire body to make sure that he was, in fact, free of injuries. “I feared the worst!”

A small measure of guilt welled up inside of Yoon’s heart. He wished his mother would stop needlessly worrying over him. “I am fine , Mother. I was training with Bidam.” He cast a casual smirk to Bidam who met his gaze briefly before lowering his head. “Right, Bidam-ah?”

Bidam immediately fell to one knee, one arm crossing his chest as he pounded his fist into his collar. “Forgive me for stirring up chaos in the Palace, Your Majesty.”

The Queen’s shoulders visibly sank and her attendants were at her side to keep her from losing her balance. Namgil retrieved the prince’s crown and handed it back to him. He held it out to his mother who took it in her trembling hands as she watched Yoon lower himself at the Queen’s feet. Some of the servants gasped and whispered to each other and the Prince continued to stare at the patch of grass around the hems of his mother’s robes.

Hearing her sigh, she gently set his crown back atop his head, her gentle hands framing his face. She lifted his head so that he was now staring up at her. “It is good to train your body and mind, My Prince, but please be careful. You are the future father of this nation. If your body is harmed, your people are harmed. When your people are sick, you are sick. Do you understand, Seja?”

“Yes, Mother. I understand.” Standing to his full height, he let his mother take his hands into hers. Her fingers caressed over his knuckles. 

“Your Father was asking for you, wasn’t he?” The Queen looped her arm through his. “Would you allow your mother to accompany you?”

“Of course,” Yoon said with a wide flourish of his arm, “but I thought you were scheduled to have tea with the Queen Dowager and the princesses?”

The Queen hummed and nodded as they moved through the gardens of his palace and out over the bridge leading to the main palace. “I can take the time to escort the Crown Prince to his own destination.” 

Yoon’s entourage walked alongside his mother’s and they all chatted together in polite levels so as to not disturb the Queen and Crown Prince’s conversation. The days were peaceful, but mostly in part to how well-guarded the Palace was from the chaos of the outside world. But Yoon was no fool. Ming was growing restless because of Japanese opposition. It would only be a matter of time before Japan would attempt its invasion of Joseon in order to sink their claws into Ming.

He wondered if his father had any contingencies in place if such a thing were to actually transpire.

Arriving at the main palace gates, the Queen released Yoon’s arm and smiled. “Enjoy your time with your father, Seja.”

Yoon bowed, as did the rest of his servants. “Be well, Eomma Mama.” He waited until his mother and attendants were out of sight before turning back to face the main gate. “Let’s go.”