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nctsworld · 3 years

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completely floored

✩ jeno x reader | best friends to lovers | fluff | smut | 1.5k

SUMMARY | who knew gaming on the floor like you two used to could change everything between you and your best friend? WARNINGS | smut, floor s*x, oral s*x (m receiving) RATING | mature PROMPT | staring at each other’s lips for a moment before giving in REQ BY | anonymous

AUTHOR’S NOTE | bless up for the boring jalapeno teasers to give me inspo and i’ve been wanting to write jeno for a long time so hehe i also haven’t played uno in forever sorry if there’s anything off

In Jeno’s basement rental suite, you two are sitting comfortably near each other on his carpeted floor, playing Halo together with your backs leaning against his worn-down sofa.

“You doing okay?” Jeno asks with care, glancing over at your side of the TV screen where you’re blatantly struggling to stay alive from the onslaught of enemies. His gaze then falls on you for a second.

“Yep, doing great,” you singsong, sarcasm laced in your tone. He catches sight of you sticking out your tongue in frustration.

Jeno’s not sure why the expression from you comes off more cute to him than usual. He smiles to himself in amusement and turns his attention back to the game.

It’s been about six months since you’ve last hung out one on one with him. Third year of university has been busy for both of you, but you’ve managed to find some free time now that finals were finally over this semester.

And it feels exactly like old times from high school when you two used to sit on the floor at his parents’ house, gaming until the sun rose.

But things have definitely changed since then.

Like how gorgeous Jeno has gotten.

When you unsurprisingly die and have to wait to respawn until Jeno plows through the current batch of enemies, you waste your time in noticing his chiseled jaw line, the sexiness in his confident grin, and the raw attractiveness that exudes from him.

You shake your thoughts away, attributing them to how you probably just missed hanging out with him, along with the fact that you’ve been single for way too long.

After a couple more rounds of Halo, Uno replaces it as the next game of choice. Still on the floor, you’re now facing each other. About a few feet apart from you, Jeno has a leg pulled nearby to his chest, his arm resting on his raised knee. On the flipside, you’re sitting with lax legs bent onto their sides, parallel to the carpet.

The early rounds of Uno are peaceful, but as it progresses, playful competitiveness emerges. The game shifts drastically when Jeno suddenly plays a handful of draw four cards.

Your jaw swings open, shocked that he held onto so many for so long, and you complain about the unfairness of the situation. Smugly, Jeno shrugs and retorts back that’s simply how the game works.

Twisting your mouth to one side and squinting your eyes, you then drop your cards in a teasing state of anger and launch yourself towards him. Your best friend merely laughs as you attempt to punch him in the arm.

However, things take an unexpected turn. You lose balance and accidentally topple him down towards the carpet, your chest pressing atop of his.

Your faces are inches apart from one another. You’re both heavily breathing, practically inhaling the other’s air.

Each parties’ eyes flickers towards the other’s lips. Your gaze lingers longer than it should and you reprimand yourself because this is your best friend—your drop, dead gorgeous best friend who is looking at your lips with the same craving.

Chest to chest, your hearts race together, pounding against the other almost in sync. Carefully, with a gulp, Jeno gently palms your cheek. Your eyelids flutter to a close.

Lips meet and collide, and you lay your hands on the planes of his chest. You’ve always felt safe around Jeno, but you’ve never felt more safe with him than like this.

Soon enough, the kissing escalates, transforming into ones that drip of neediness and burning desire. Your touches dig deeper into each other. Throughout it, your shirt is thrown aside and you quickly attach yourself back onto him to help him rid of his layers.

Marking his body with a trail of hot kisses, you slowly make your descent towards his significantly hard desire. Seeing him shirtless is nothing new, but now that you have him up-close and all to yourself, you traverse his beauty without hurry.

Peeking up at him when you reach his abs, you see him looking right back with an intent, ravenous stare. Because you’re not used to it, you feel a tingle in your cheeks and brush some hair behind your ear as you continue your trek.

Once at your destination, you strip him of his jeans and brief-boxers. Gasping silently at the sight, his sizable cock springs out and slaps against his stomach. You lick your lips, wanting his length immediately in your mouth. Instead, you restrain yourself and leave feathery kisses upon it.

Jeno sighs at the minimal sensation, his erection twitching in yearning for more. His sighs melt, replaced by sharp gasps and the ruffling of eyebrows as you devour him whole. For what you can’t engulf with your mouth, you pump with your hand.

“God...” he pants, eyeing you closely with with his hands behind his head, bare arms flexing delectably. Saliva begins to pool around his base as you suck endlessly. He peels a hand away and runs his fingers through your hair. “You’re so beautiful.”

Coming up for air, you chuckle as you stroke him steadily. “You’re saying that ‘cause I just sucked you off.”

“No.” Jeno strongly disagrees, a stern glimmer obvious in his eye. Shaking his head, he rises onto his forearms and leans in right up to your face.

Your best friend whispers the following into your mouth as he rubs his thumb tenderly over your cheek—

“I’ve always thought you were beautiful.”

Another kiss, but this time, lips are crashing fiercely, like it’s the last time you’d ever kiss anybody. Jeno caresses your upper body and similarly, your hand continues to squeeze and jerk him off. Impatiently, you stand to hurriedly remove your bra and tug your bottoms off.

Jeno’s tongue drags along his lower jaw when you rush to your purse to grab a condom; he watches attentively at the perfect view of your ass.

You scuttle back and ease the rubber onto him, and within seconds, you’re sitting on his length. Once he’s completely inside, an acute throaty moan pierces the room and your head cranes back. You’ve never had anyone fill you up so full before, and yet, it doesn’t take much time to acclimatize to his girth.

Riding him, you bounce relentlessly with your weight on your knees and your hands graze his upper frame. You’re gone, blinded by ecstasy, but Jeno’s hazy look doesn’t stray from you.

His pretty fingers glide upward over your stomach, then over your breasts. At first, he thumbs your nipples to play with you prior to kneading them hungrily in their entirety.

Without warning, Jeno seizes your back with one hand and brings himself up, snatching your breasts into his mouth.

“Fuck, Jeno,” you exhale in pleasure, sinking your nails into his flexed back and shoulders. “What are we doing?”

“Do you wanna stop?” he asks between the snug puckering of his lips around your nubs.

“No, no,” you immediately reply, shaking your head profusely. “You feel too fucking good...”

When he’s finished loving your breasts, you gesture for him to lean back down during a kiss. Like before when you fell on him in the beginning, your chests are glued together again, this time now sans clothes.

Your lips maneuver over to his neck, attacking him with kisses, and you fuck him with the your ass jutting out. The wet slaps of your sexes intermingling, Jeno’s panting, and your whines penetrate your surroundings.

“I’m close, I’m close...” he says, his eyes rolling to the back of his head in timing for what’s about to happen.

Dragging yourself away from his neck, you kiss him fervently while you fasten your pace. He moans into your mouth as he unravels, his sweaty palms relaxing against your perspired back. You follow right after, practically reaching your peaks together.

After a few moments, you roll off and lay beside him. Both of you pant towards the ceiling in disbelief. The disbelief that runs through you is immersed with an underlying fear.

“Maybe I should get going...” you say unsurely, sitting up and looking at your clothes at the other side of the floor.

Just because you’ve had sex with him, it doesn’t mean Jeno still isn’t your best friend, nor does it rid of the fact that he knows your change of emotions like the back of his hand. He sits up too, warmly wraps an arm around your shoulder, and kisses the top of your nude arm.

“How about one more game?” he mumbles into your skin.

“Which game?” you whisper curiously.

One more peck, this time on your cheek.

“The game called Stay the Night.”

Your head turns to face him, gazes converging. He flashes you his saccharine smile, his eyes following suit and smiling as well.

“Can’t play it without you, but only if you want to.” He rubs the tip of his nose against yours, causing you to giggle. “What do you say?”

You get lost in his eyes, realizing that maybe you’ve always had something for Jeno, whether you were conscious of it or not.

Despite it all, you know your feelings aren’t unrequited. They can’t be, not with the way he’s looking at you as if you’re his entire world right now.

In response to his proposition, you lean in for another kiss. It’s definitely not the last kiss you give him tonight.

Not by a long shot.

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the-bau-quinjet · 3 years

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Secret's Out

Summary: Request! Reid and Y/N are secretly dating, but their business doesn't stay their business for long.

Warnings: Criminal Minds level violence

Word Count: 2974

a/n: Thank you for the request! I hope you like it :)

Sorry this took forever! It took me a while to think of case details that I liked and then I kept rewriting parts. I think I'm finally happy with it though!

Masterlist

"Spencer!" You pushed him away. "The doors could open at any moment! How are we supposed to keep this a secret if Morgan walks in on us kissing in the elevator?" You raised a brow at him.

"On average, elevators travel at a speed of 200 ft/min or about 4 seconds per floor. Being on the fifth floor means we have about 20 seconds to ourselves." He smiled triumphantly.

"Yeah, until someone surprises us on floor 3." You rolled your eyes, stepping out of the doors once they opened.

"I can't help it. I'm just... really happy with you." He whispered softly.

"I'm really happy too." You smiled at him. You were about to lean in when the elevator doors opened once again to reveal JJ and Emily.

"Hey guys, ready for another case?" Emily glanced between you suspiciously, but thankfully didn't ask any prying questions.

"Yep, let's go!" You turned quickly, walking into the round table room without so much as a glance back at the three agents by the elevator.

"What's with her?" JJ questioned.

"Said she didn't sleep well last night. Must be all the caffeine." He held his own cup off coffee up in solidarity before also walking to the round table room.

"Alright, we've got 3 dead in Billings, Montana. All three were law enforcement, and all three were found this morning around the city." You listened as Penelope introduced the details of the case.

"Could be someone who feels the police didn't do a good enough job protecting a loved one?" You threw out a theory.

"Or someone who feels wronged by the criminal justice system as a whole." Rossi added on.

"Either way, they likely won't stop until we catch them. Wheels up in 20." Hotch rose from his seat as he spoke, wasting no time in preparing for take off.

You all dispersed briefly to grab your go bags, meeting back at the SUVs to head to the jet.

Once boarded, it didn't take long for the conversation to start up again.

"When we land, L/N go to the morgue. Dave, Prentiss take the first and second crime scenes, they're only a mile apart. Morgan and Reid, check out the third scene. I'll head to the precinct with JJ."

With Hotch's instructions set, you took what little time you had left on the flight to go over the causes of death.

"Anything stand out to you on the bodies?" You asked the ME after going over the blunt force trauma and bullet wounds.

"There's tape residue and bruising on the wrists and ankles. Based on the state of bruising, they were likely held for about 3 days before they were killed."

"Thank you for your help." You shook hands, pulling out your phone to call Hotch.

"Hotchner."

"Hotch, they were held for days before they were killed. How did nobody notice they were missing?" There was nothing in the reports that indicated the victims were reported missing prior to being found.

"We just found the same pattern. They all used vacation days for various reasons in the days leading up to their deaths. Meet us back at the precinct and Reid can explain the whole pattern."

"Okay, I'm leaving now." You hung up just as you reached the SUV. Throughout the drive, you couldn't stop thinking that something wasn't adding up.

The victims were taken in the same day. It didn't make sense for the unsub not to escalate. So, why aren't any officers unaccounted for?

Suddenly, a truck crashed into your SUV, sending you flying off the road. A figure dressed in black opened the door and dragged you from the car.

"Agent L/N, it's so good to see you again." A male voice spoke, but you couldn't place it.

He hit you over the head with a handgun before dragging you to his own vehicle.

"Where's L/N?" Emily questioned when her and Rossi returned from the second dumpsite.

"On her way back from the ME." Hotch answered. "Did you find anything useful?"

"They truly are dumpsites. Both bodies were found by dumpsters, sending a pretty clear message." Dave replied.

"Same for the third site." Derek added on.

"All three victims were single and took time off leading up to their death. Nobody would've notice that they were missing until it was too late." Reid supplied the final bit of information gathered.

Hotch's phone rang before anyone else could comment. The frantic sound of Garcia's nails clicking against her keyboard echoed through the phone. She was talking before anyone could greet her.

"You need to see this, check your tablets."

Confused glances were exchanged as everyone, barring Reid, opened their tablets. Reid glanced over Morgan's shoulder to observe as well.

A seemingly live video that Garcia received a link to was streaming to the tablets.

A single woman sitting in a chair could be seen in the frame. Her wrists and ankles were bound to the chair with thick, gray tape and a bag was over her head.

"Garcia, what is this?" Hotch asked almost immediately.

"I was emailed the link just now. It's not streaming anywhere else online." Her reply came quickly, the sound of typing still filling in the silence.

"Can you trace it?" Rossi questioned.

"I'm trying, but it's being routed through multiple proxy servers."

"Did the email say anything?" Emily chimed in.

"No, it was just the link- Wait. I just got another email." She paused as the new email loaded. "It's addressed to Reid."

Every set of eyes in the room turned to Reid.

"What does it say?" He felt the nerves beginning to grow waiting for Garcia to read the words aloud.

"Dr. Reid,

I hope you remember me. What am I saying, of course you do. I've got something of yours that you might want back. You see Dr. Reid, you and your team ruined me. My family, my career, all of it, just gone. I thought I'd return the favor. A person's phone can be so informative. Tell me, does your team know about your girlfriend? I've so enjoyed getting reacquainted with her.

Happy hunting."

Spencer's face went white as he looked at Morgan's tablet again. His thoughts were racing. How did he not recognize you before? Even with the bag over your head, he should've known it was you.

"It's her." His words were barely a whisper.

"This is your girlfriend?" Morgan gestured to the screen again. Spencer could only nod in reply, his mind unable to focus on anything except you.

"Reid, listen to me. You've got to tell us everything you know about her. We'll have to split up. You can go back to Quantico with Emily and Morgan, the rest of us will stay here to work on our current case." Hotch was already devising a strategy to work both cases.

"There's no need." His words made sense to him, but sounded cryptic to the rest of the team.

"Kid, of course there is. We'll help you get her back." Morgan placed a hand on his shoulder, effectively shocking him back to the present situation.

"There's no need to split up because she's here. She's in Montana." Before he could continue, everyone was asking questions.

"Give me a phone number and I'll get you a location." Garcia was already typing away again.

"Are you sure she's here?" JJ's brows furrowed. She did her best to hide the hurt of her best friend hiding his girlfriend from her, again.

"Why would she be here?" Rossi added.

"How did she get here? Maybe we can track the transportation and figure out means of abduction." Emily was the only one thinking about the case.

Like ripping off a bandaid, Spencer blurted out the truth.

"It's Y/N."

He was met with silence in the room as everyone absorbed the information.

Garcia caught up first, a sudden gasp sounding through the phone.

"So, then that's Y/N... in the video..." Her voice wavered.

As if a switch was flipped, the team was back on the case.

"Garcia, get me a list of anyone who would have a grievance with the team." Hotch ordered.

"Go through anyone who was falsely accused. Start with cases in or around Montana. He would want to keep this close to home." Rossi specified.

"We've only had one case in Montana since Y/N joined the team." Reid supplied the knowledge as it came to him. "A name, I need a name." He muttered to himself, pulling his hair as he roughly ran his hands through it and over his face. "Garcia, look into Jameson Braddock."

"Got it." She immediately began a background check, searching through case files and news articles for additional information. "i'll get back to you with locations." With that, she hung up.

"Fill us in, kid. Who is Jameson Braddock." Morgan lead Reid to a chair, gently easing him into it.

"Our last case in Montana, Emily and I went to interview a witness." Emily nodded, the memories slowly coming back to her.

"He wasn't very forthcoming, and then he tried to run." She added on.

"Exactly, except he didn't make it very fair. We arrested him, but it turned out he was only guilty of selling alcohol to minors. When word of his arrest got out, the whole town thought it was for the serial rapes and murders we were investigating even though it was never confirmed."

"By the time we corrected the media, it was too late." JJ supplied, also remembering the man.

"So, he killed three officers just to draw us out back out here?" Morgan refocused the conversation on the current case.

"It looks that way now. The media knew we were coming, so he must have as well." Emily theororized. "If he followed us from the airport, he would've seen Y/N leave by herself."

"He likely didn't know about your relationship until he abducted her and went through her phone." Hotch paced the room.

"He's flaunting his power over us." Rossi chimed in just as Hotch's phone rang again.

"Garcia, what've you got?"

"Three addresses in Billings, Montana. Jameson Braddock has been on a downward spiral since your last trip there. His entire life fell apart, like he said. Divorced, his wife moved to Nebraska with their two kids. He lost his job at the high school, and was evicted from his house when he could no longer pay the bills." She listed the information quickly.

"He has ties to three addresses. Nobody has moved into his previous house, so it's vacant. He's got a small apartment in the northern part of the city which he pays for through working odd hours at Taco Bell. Finally, he briefly worked security at a now abandoned warehouse."

"An apartment wouldn't be enough space to hold her without the chance of someone hearing. She's not there." Rossi eliminated the location as an option.

"We'll split up to cover the warehouse and the house-" Hotch began, but Reid cut him off.

"No, we shouldn't split up. She's got to be at the house. The warehouse has no connection to his previous life. He wants revenge for our perceived wrongdoing, he wouldn't make his last stand at a new location." Reid was already putting on a bullet proof vest. Despite how his mind was racing, he refused to show how afraid he was.

"You're sure?" Morgan asked, on the fence about committing to one location.

"Absolutely." With that, Reid was out the door heading for the SUVs.

"Rossi, Emily head around back. I'll take the front with Reid. JJ and Morgan, the side door." Hotch instructed the team to split up upon arrival at the house.

Reid wasted no time in approaching the house. He was confident you were inside, but he didn't know what was happening to you.

The main floor was cleared quickly. Again, the team split up to cover the upper level and the basement.

Knowing you were likely downstairs, Reid immediately started that direction, JJ and Hotch following him.

It wasn't hard for him to find you. You were still tied to the chair in the middle of the room, bag over your head.

Before anyone could stop him, Reid lowered his gun and ran to you. He gently maneuvered the bag off your head, stopping his movements only when he felt something press into his back.

"Dr. Reid. So kind of you to join us." Braddock spoke maniacally, pressing the gun against Reid's head.

"Drop your weapon." Hotch commanded, but the man only cackled in response.

'Y/N... Y/N." Reid gently shook you in an attempt to wake you up.

"She can't hear you." Braddock singsonged.

"What did you do?" Reid tried to turn to him only to feel the gun press further into his head.

"Like I said in my email, you people ruined my life. They took everything from me, so I thought I'd try to return the favor." During his short speech, Braddock shifted just enough for JJ to get a clean shot.

He fell to the ground, gun clattering across the floor.

Reid moved quickly to remove the tape binding you to the chair while Hotch called for a medic in the basement.

The entire team watched as you were wheeled into the ambulance, still unconscious, none more scared than Spencer.

"She's going to be fine, Spence." JJ tried to reassure him, nonetheless his pacing continued.

"You don't know that. We don't even know what he did to her." He had one hand anxiously running through his hair, the other pinching the bridge of his nose in distress.

Just then, a doctor emerged from behind closed doors.

"F/N L/N." She called into the waiting room, slightly taken aback when the group of agents rushed to her.

"It was touch and go for a while, but she got here just in time." It was visible to even the least qualified profiler how relieved the team felt. Their previously tense shoulders relaxed, frowns turned to small smiles, wide eyes and raised brows pinched together with joy.

"What happened?" Emily posed the question everyone was thinking.

"In short, she was drugged. It's not clear what exactly was used, but it was likely a mix of drugs that attempted to stop her heart."

"Can we see her?" Morgan spoke next, cautiously eyeing Reid.

"You may, follow me." The doctor lead them through a series of hallways to your room. "She should be waking up soon."

With that the doctor left, allowing the team to file into the room. You looked strangely peaceful for someone who almost died.

"So..." JJ glanced between you and Spencer. "Girlfriend, huh?"

His eyes went wide. Instinctively, he turned to you for help, but you were still asleep. He opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out.

"Relax, kid." Morgan grinned. "We're happy as long as you two are happy."

Spencer smiled gratefully, looking at you with an adoring gaze. "We are happy."

"How long?' Emily gestured to your joined hands. Just before Spencer could answer, you groaned.

"I want to hear your guesses first." Your voice was raspy, but there was a clear smile on your face. "Also, what happened?"

The quickly explained the email Garcia received and the events that followed.

"Now that that's cleared up, do tell us how long you think we've been together. I know you've got a bet going." You narrowed your eyes, playfully glaring at each team member.

"4 months." Hotch begrudgingly admitted. JJ followed with 3 months, Derek and Rossi both betting 10 weeks, and Emily going with 6 weeks.

"Ha, you're all wrong." You smiled triumphantly, leaning closer to Spencer.

"Wait, we haven't heard from Garcia." Derek smirked as he rung her on speaker phone.

"Oh, my beautiful crime fighters. Y/N, are you okay?" Your smile widened at the concern in her voice.

"I am indeed, but I have a very important question for you." You glanced as Spencer briefly before continuing. "How long do you think Spence and I have been together?"

"Oh, I know this one!" Her excitement caught everyone but you off guard. "7 months, 2 weeks, and 3 days."

Spencer's jaw dropped as he stuttered out, "that's exactly right..."

"How'd you figure it out?" The group of profilers wore matching expressions of surprise as Penelope explained.

"Well, we had just finished testifying in the Bigelow trial. The whole team went out for drinks, and I could just see it in Y/N's eyes the next day that something wonderful happened. At first I just thought that she got some, but then I saw her and the good doctor in the kitchen getting coffee and I knew." Penelope's voice held a mixture of smugness and pure excitement.

"Babygirl, you didn't tell me?" Derek sounded genuinely offended.

"Y/N asked me not to." Even though you couldn't see her, you knew she punctuated the statement with a shrug.

"You knew, she knew?" Spencer turned to you in shock.

You nodded. "I could see it on her face the second I walked out of the kitchen. But she promised not to tell, so I didn't either."

"The two of you, thick as thieves." Rossi lamented.

"I love you so much." Spencer whispered into your ear as he pulled you in for a hug.

"I love you too." You whispered right back.

"Honestly, I'm glad the secret's out." You smiled at Spencer before looking at the rest of the team. "Although, I wish I didn't have to be kidnapped to tell you."

You spent a few more hours in the hospital before being cleared to go back to the hotel.

The next morning, you smiled to yourself as you were finally able to cuddle with Spencer during the flight home.

Permanent taglist:

@averyhotchner

@jesuswasnotawhiteman

@strawberryspence

@sebastnstn

Criminal Minds taglist:

@mac99martin

@goldeng1rl8

@measure-in-pain

#spencer reid x reaader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds fic

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liberty-barnes · 4 years

Text

The Swear Jar

Part 1 of The Jar Series

Mob Boss!Tom Holland x Single Mom!Reader

Prompt: “I've never said a single fucking swear word in my whole damn life”

Warnings: swearing obviously, Tom’s a mob boss so there’s that, there’s like, one sexual innuendo but also ??? not really??? idk

Word Count: 4k (i really need to learn to write short things)

Estimated Reading Time: 16 minutes

A/N: It’s the pic guys, I can’t help it.

Edit: Wow, you guys actually liked this! So since many of you asked, a part will be coming out soon, maybe more, we’ll see. So if you wanna be added to my “The Swear Jar” Taglist, just ask me or add yourself directly through the link in my bio!

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

The bell above the door to the diner chimed and you perked up, smiling brightly at the young teenage couple.

“Gracie! Stella! It’s so good to see you again!”

The girls greeted you with the same amount of enthusiasm and proceeded to order their usual meal.

“Your hair’s really pretty Stella! You look like a mermaid now!”

“Thanks, Millie! I took your advice and went with blue instead of purple.”

The young girl smiled and captured the couple’s attention by showcasing her current work in progress.

Millicent Rose (Y/l/n) was your five-year-old daughter. She had brown hair, falling on her shoulders in nice large curls, and big (y/e/c) eyes, a perfect match to yours. She loved drawing (the diner walls were crawling with her masterpieces) and pretty hair, especially if it was soft.

Her bubbly and fearless personality sometimes frightened you, but you mostly came to terms with the fact that your daughter was a social butterfly and took full advantage of the small diner to interact with as many people as she could.

You watched with a fond smile as Millie explained what she had been drawing to the girls, mentioning every little detail while they praised her good work. The young brunette had a gift to make anyone love her.

Soon enough, their large milkshake to share was finished and Lou, the owner and cook, was all done with the food so the girls sat down at a booth and Millie went back to drawing, little feet dangling off the chair and little brows furrowed in concentration.

As you were refiling Mr and Mrs Lee’s drinks, the bell chimed once more and four men walked in dressed in stylish suits, much too fancy for this place. They sat down at a booth and started talking while you took a deep calming breath.

Oh, fuck me.

You took your notepad and walked over to them, a much too fake smile on your face.

“Good morning gentlemen, what can I get you?”

The table quieted down and you made eye contact with who you knew to be the leader.

“I’ll have a burger with fries and a strawberry milkshake.”

One of the twins said.

“I’ll have the same but with a chocolate milkshake instead.”

The other one added.

“Vegi burger and a coke, please.”

At least the blonde one had some manners.

Your eyes lifted from the notepad to the leader once again.

“And for you?”

You did your best to ignore the slight tremble in your voice.

“Bacon cheeseburger, fries and a coke, darling.”

“Right away.”

You got out of there as soon as possible, sparing a glance at your daughter to make sure she was still sitting at the counter before entering the kitchen with a panicked expression on your face.

“Lou…”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“You’ve got an order… for the Hollands…”

“Well, shit.”

The Holland family was the oldest and most successful mob in London, extremely rich, dangerous, and seemingly untouchable.

Harry and Sam Holland, the twins, were rumoured to have been behind the Burtons’ death, another famous family known for drug trafficking and other crimes.

Harrison Osterfield, the second in command, was a close family friend, accused of drug trafficking, illegal weapons selling, and other such crimes, though the charges all dropped before the first hearing even took place.

And finally, Thomas Holland, the leader. Arrested for multiple murders, arson, extortion, and a long list of other felonies, but never convicted.

Everyone was scared of them, and the fact that they were eating here was not good for business.

You ignored the tightness in your chest in favour of helping Lou prepare their food, hoping to do it as fast as possible so the group could leave.

Meanwhile, at the booth, Tom was rolling his eyes at his brothers and friend’s stupidity.

“Okay, we get it, she’s hot, but you don’t have to talk about it all the fucking time.”

Millie turned her head in their direction and scowled. She stretched a bit to the other side of the counter to take the transparent jar and got down from her chair, making her way to their booth, stomping a bit, which made her Sketchers light up.

The diner watched with curious (and slightly frightened, for the Lees) eyes as the little girl climbed onto the booth next to Harrison, one leg after the other, and kneeled next to the blonde, setting her elbow on the table and stretching so the transparent jar was now sitting in front of Tom.

He looked at it: a lid-less mason jar with a pink bow and right in the front, in a child’s handwriting and pink glittery letters were the words 'Swear Jar’.

“You owe a pound.”

He lifted his head to look at the girl.

“I beg your pardon?”

“When someone says a bad word they have to put a pound in the jar. You said a bad word so you owe a pound.”

“I’ve never said a single fucking swear word in my whole damn life!”

“That’s two more so you have to put three pounds in.”

“Yeah, Tom, put the money in.”

Harrison had his arms around the girl and a smug smile on his face, evidently taking a liking to the young brunette.

“Shut the fuck up Haz, you curse more than I do!”

“Four.”

“Shit.”

That one was not on purpose.

“Five.”

“Okay, okay, jeez, hold on.”

He took out his wallet and took his only five-dollar bill amid all the hundreds.

“Just gonna put the money in this stupid jar.”

“Six.”

“Wha- stupid’s not a swear word!”

“I’m not allowed to say it so yes, it is.”

Tom rummaged around his wallet for a stray pound, reluctantly putting a hundred in after finding nothing.

“Does that mean I’m allowed to say ninety-nine swear words?”

“No paying in advance, everything that’s not the money you owe is a donation.”

“To what foundation?”

“The ‘get Millie new glitter pens’ foundation”

She answered with a smirk and everyone -bar Tom- was pretty much crying at seeing their boss be told what to do by a five-year-old.

“Man, you are so screwed!”

“That’s one pound for you, Mister!”

“Oh shit, right!”

“Two…”

Harry took out his wallet (still laughing his arse off, mind you) and didn’t even try to look for the two pounds, simply putting in a hundred.

Millie’s eyes were focused solely on Tom’s hair. She climbed on top of Harrison, her pink tulle skirt flying behind her and stood on the seat next to the brunette, her hands immediately flying to his hair.

“You have very pretty hair. It’s really soft.”

“Thank you, darling.”

She hummed and kept playing with the soft strands.

“My name’s Tom, and these are my twin brothers Harry and Sam, and my best friend, Haz.”

She looked around for a while, not answering, seemingly lost in thought until she looked back at him and her sparkling (y/e/c) eyes focused on his brown ones.

“Nice to meet you, Tommy. I’m Millie.”

“T-Tommy?”

Sam stuttered out between peels of laughter.

“I don’t like Tom, Tommy’s better. Why are you so shocked Twin Nice?”

Harry looked appalled.

“Why's he Twin Nice?”

“Because you said a bad word and he didn’t, so he’s Twin Nice and you’re Twin Naughty.”

Sam did a little victory dance, bragging about his new nickname to his twin.

The little girl sat down on Tom’s lap and started to play with the black ring on his finger.

“What am I, then?”

She looked up to Harrison from in between Tom’s fingers, still playing with the thick band.

“You’re Thor cause you have pretty eyes and you look really strong.”

To say that the blonde was pleased would be an understatement.

“You, little lady, are my new best friend. We need to come here more often.”

Millie smiled and went back to observing the ring.

“Does this mean you’re married?”

Tom chuckled and shook his head slightly.

“No, it means that I’m a part of the Holland family, like them.”

Everyone around the table showed theirs, a symbol of their high status in the mob.

“So you don’t have a girlfriend?”

“Nope.”

“Do you live with your mommy?”

“No, I live with these dumbasses in a big house.”

She pushed the swear jar towards him and gave him what could only be described as the 'Disappointed Mom’ look.

“Do you like it?”

“Kind of, sometimes they get on my nerves and I wish they’d rot in Hell, but yeah, it’s not too bad.”

She slapped his hand in reprimand and he internally cursed himself.

“Don’t you miss your mommy?”

“A little, but I see my parents every Sunday for family dinner.”

He answered after placing yet another bill in the jar.

“Parents?”

“Yeah, my mum and dad.”

She hummed.

“I wish I had a dad.”

The boys all stiffened.

Well, that escalated quickly.

Tom cleared his throat, measuring his words before speaking, for once in his life.

“Do you know what happened to your dad?”

“Mommy says he left cause he wasn’t good like her. She says it’s okay, though, cause we only need each other but my friend Lilly has a mommy and a daddy and she told me that sometimes when her mommy’s sad or tired he’ll do all the grown-up stuff like cook and read her a story while her mommy rests and she’s happier that way. I want my mommy to be happy like that too.”

For Tom, it felt like his cold, dead heart was starting to beat again. This little angel sitting on his lap was asking for something most children already had, not for herself, but for her mother.

“You’re a really good person, Millie.”

“If you stopped saying so many bad words you’d be one too, Tommy.”

The boys laughed yet again and they continued talking for a little while, refraining from any work-related issues for the sake of their newest addition, choosing instead to discuss sports and fighting over who’d be on cleaning duty that Sunday. Three more bills made their way to the jar during that particular discussion, one from each boy (bar Sam because he was on cooking duty, as always), and for once they allowed themselves to relax and simply be, instead of always worrying.

You got out of the kitchen with the men’s orders ready and looked at the end of the counter, planning to check on Millie before walking over to the mobsters’ table. Your brows furrowed when you didn’t find her and you immediately looked towards the girls’ table or the Lees’, finding she wasn’t there either.

“Mommy, over here!”

You followed your child’s voice and your eyes widened once you saw her sitting on the leader’s lap. The smiling leader’s lap.

You quickly made your way to their booth, placing their orders in front of them without even taking your eyes off your daughter.

“Millicent Rose! What have I told you about bothering people when they’re in their booths?”

She looked guilty for half a second but immediately perked up again, ready to defend herself.

“Not to, but Mommy, he said a bad word so I had to take the swear jar to him.”

“And why, pray tell, are you sitting in the gentleman’s lap?”

“His name’s Tommy and he said he didn’t mind and this way I can talk to Thor, Twin Nice and Twin Naughty better.”

Tommy, Thor, Twin Nice, and Twin Naughty?

“Oh, fuck me.”

Millie’s jaw dropped open. She’d never heard you swear before.

“You owe a pound, Mommy.”

“Yeah, I know, I know.”

You pulled a pound from your pocket and put it in, eyes widening at the amount of money in the jar.

“How in the world?”

“I didn’t have singles so I just put hundreds in. Apparently, it’s a donation to the 'Get Millie new glitter pens’ foundation.”

You set the jar down and shook your head in disbelief.

“I am never letting Harley babysit you ever again.”

She pouted and slumped down, arms crossed adorably in front of her.

“Now come on, let the gentlemen eat their lunch in peace and come get yours.”

She cuddled up to Tom more than before, burying her head in his chest and fisting his shirt, and shaking her head in protest.

“Millie, come on, let’s go. I’m so sorry for the bother sir.”

“It’s no problem, she’s welcome to say for however long she wants.”

The brunette smiled at your daughter and then at you, before the man on his right interrupted.

“Besides, she’s very entertaining. It’s nice to see someone else call Tom out on his bullshit.”

You and Millie threw the blonde matching glares while Tom just pushed the jar towards him.

“You owe a pound, Haz”

“Excuse you Tommy, my name’s Thor.”

He then turned to you with a smug smile and attitude.

“Cause I have pretty eyes like him and look very strong. Don’t you agree with your daughter… (Y/n)?”

He read your name tag and smiled charmingly while you pursed your lips, looking him up and down. You then looked at your little girl.

“You sure?”

“Well, who else has pretty blue eyes?”

“Captain America.”

She light up right away and straightened herself.

“Right! And he looks like Captain America when he was tiny! Thanks, Mommy!”

She then turned to Harrison with a gigantic smile on her face.

“You’re Tiny America now.”

The whole table -bar Haz- laughed and you had to bite your lip not to laugh too, instead linking your hands and looking at the clock.

“Come on Millie, it’s time to eat.”

“Can I eat here with Tommy, please?”

“If you eat here with Tommy I won’t be able to make sure you eat your veggies.”

The man’s heart stuttered when you used his nickname, a strange sense of happiness overcoming him.

“Tommy can check.”

“Mm… I’m not sure if he can check you ate them. He’s not used to your sneakiness.”

“What if I pinky promise to eat my veggies and eat a banana for dessert instead of ice cream?”

It was a struggle to get her to eat fruits and veggies. You usually had to settle for one or the other, so when she spontaneously decided to eat both, you jumped at the opportunity, mob be damned.

“Deal! But no annoying the boys.”

She smiled and nodded, settling comfortably on Tom’s lap, waiting for her food. You took out her plate of chicken nuggets, fries, and green beans, chocolate milkshake to wash it down.

You tried not to let the butterflies in your stomach distract you from your job but the way Tom smiled at your daughter and praised her when she ate all her veggies in a row, wanting to get it over with, made your heart ache, the longing for someone still very much present.

“Have a nice meal.”

You made eye contact with the brunette and blushed at the smile he sent you before waving goodbye at the Lees. The teenage couple had left a bit earlier so the mobsters were now your last customers of the day.

You wiped the kitchen counters and said goodbye to Lou, assuring him that you’d close up by yourself. As soon as he left, you took a deep breath and sighed, unable to stop your smile when you heard your daughter’s laugh carrying through the wall separating you from the group.

“Mommy, we’re done!”

You straightened up and schooled your features before walking over to them, taking away their plates while asking if Millie behaved and if they wanted dessert. The answer to both questions was a yes and so you came back a little while later with chocolate pudding for the twins, caramel ice cream for Harrison, a banana split for Tom, and a miniature one for Millie.

“Since you behaved so nicely you get a little sweetness with your banana.”

Her eyes sparkled and she smiled brightly at you.

“You’re the best mommy ever! I love you!”

“Love you too, baby.”

You turned around, ready to leave, when a voice stopped you.

“Why don’t you sit down with us for a bit? I’m pretty sure that if you wipe that table down one more time you’ll remove the paint.”

You blushed but complied, sitting down next to Harrison and watching as your daughter ate her dessert quickly and quietly, wincing from time to time because of brain freezes. As soon as she was done, she reached for Tom’s right hand. He switched the hand that held the spoon, eating with his left so that Millie could play with the ring on his finger.

Unfortunately for him, he had a bit of trouble eating with his non-dominant hand while holding a child on his lap, leading to a bit of ice cream falling on his shirt.

“Ah, fu-”

You shot him a glare that made him change courses immediately.

“-dge. Fudge.”

Millie clapped and gave him a big, approving smile.

“See, Mommy? He’s making progress!”

“Indeed he is, darling.”

“Oh, this is fucking hilarious!”

The young girl gasped, mouth open comically wide and utter betrayal swimming in her eyes.

“I thought you were nice.”

Sam realized his mistake as soon as she spoke, covering his mouth with his hand as if to stop any more of the offending words from leaving it.

“You owe five pounds.”

“What? Why? I only said one swear word!”

She shook her head in disapproval, arms crossed in front of her chest, and pushed the jar towards him.

“You made me believe you were nice so your trickster-y will cost you four extra pounds.”

You shook your head, smile firmly plastered on your face as you watched Sam pull out a hundred dollar bill with a pout on his lips. It was quite endearing, really.

“So, (Y/n), tell us about you.”

You locked eyes with the brunette once again, piercing gaze seemingly looking through you.

“I’m afraid there’s not much to tell, Mr Holland. I’m not a very interesting person.”

Your voice was soft, your words calculated. You knew that these men could kill you in the blink of an eye.

“No uninteresting person could have raised such a perfect little angel.”

He smirked and Millie looked at you with a smug smile.

“See, he said I was an angel.”

Life be damned, it’s not worth living if your daughter has an ego the size of Russia. That would most definitely come back to bite you in the ass.

“Yeah, that’s cause he hasn’t had to deal with you in all your nightly glory.”

She put her tongue out and snuggled deeper into Tom’s chest.

“Well, for one, how did you find yourself working here?”

He got the conversation back on you and you felt slightly intimidated with the whole table’s eyes on little old you.

“Customers are nice, I earn enough money for us to get by, owner’s nice, the school’s at the end of the street, and Millie gets to stay with me when she’s not there.”

Even though he was focused on you, you noticed the way he held your daughter close to his chest, his bigger frame completely enveloping her smaller one. She still hadn’t let go of his hand and kept playing with the ring on his finger. Seeing how calm and caring he was being with your daughter calmed you down and the more questions you answered, the more comfortable you became.

“How can you work at a dinner and not like vanilla milkshakes?”

Sam looked horrified at that, and you just shrugged dismissively.

“I never really liked when vanilla was too present. Like, if you used it to just enhance everything else you know, make it taste better, then sure, but just vanilla isn’t really my style.”

Tom took a sharp breath in and tried to stop his mind from wandering at the possible double meaning of your words. Instead, he chose to focus on the little girl on his lap.

Until he noticed she was asleep, that is.

He smiled a little and shifted her so she was resting more comfortably on his lap. Unfortunately for him, that caught your attention.

“Oh my, is she asleep? I’m really sorry.”

“No worries, though we should probably get her to bed so she doesn’t wake up with a stiff neck.”

For the umpteenth time, you pushed down the butterflies upon hearing him say 'we’ and being so careful with your daughter.

You took the remaining dishes and went to the kitchen, putting them in the wash and turning on the machine, leaving it to run so tomorrow morning you’d be able to put everything away. You went back in to clean the booth and Tom practically shoved a hundred dollar bill in your hand, ignoring your protests.

He waited for you by the door while you finished closing up, and you extended your arms towards him when you finished.

“Thank you for everything today, but you must be getting tired, I can take her from here.”

He gently pushed your arms down.

“Let me take you home, please, I don’t like the idea of you having to carry her all on your own.”

You hesitantly nodded and he guided you to his car. It’s only then that you noticed the other three had left. You settled on the passenger side of his black Audi and he handed you Millie, closing the door softly as to not startle her. He then entered the driver’s side and started the car. You gave him directions to your apartment building and within five minutes, he parked the car right out front.

Ever the gentleman, he insisted on carrying the little girl. Knowing by now that there wasn’t much you could do to protest, you agreed and led him up the four flights of stairs to your door.

“Sorry 'bout the mess.”

“It’s no problem, darling, I quite like it.”

You turned your head for a brief second, as if asking him to elaborate while still leading him to your daughter’s room.

“The fact that it’s messy means that someone lives here, that this isn’t just some house, it’s a home. My house is always pristine but that’s because no one’s ever there to actually use it as something other than a glorified B&B.”

He laid Millie down on the bed and you pulled the covers over her. You both stood side to side for a little while, just watching her breathe.

“That sounds really lonely.”

“Yeah…”

Another minute passed by with no words coming from either of you.

“You raised an amazing daughter, (Y/n).”

“You’re a good man, Tom.”

Hearing those unfamiliar words coming out of your mouth almost brought tears to his eyes. He was always used to being called a ruthless mobster, cold-blooded killer, or many other names that all meant the same thing: monster. But you called him a good man, and the sincerity in your voice was almost overwhelming.

He cleared his throat and straightened up, making you turn towards him.

“I should probably go… You should get some rest as well.”

You nodded and walked him to the door. In a split-second decision, you leaned up and kissed his cheek, locking eyes with him afterwards.

“If you ever need an escape, or just wanna hang out somewhere different, our door’s always open.”

That made a smile take over his face and he kissed your forehead.

“Thank you, darling.”

And as you watched him round the corner, only your back visible to you, you couldn’t help but feel like this wouldn’t be the last time you ever saw Tom Holland.

i have mixed feelings concerning this story but at least i have ideas for a part two (if i ever decide to make one)

don’t forget to reblog, comment or like if you feel like it <3

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babytortie · 4 years

Text

so pretty

so pretty ❘ eddie kaspbrak x reader.

a/n: so this was already in the works but then it was requested by an anon - omg can u do eddie smut bae, like i just read ur eddie imagine.

* i hope this lives up to what they wanted. also !! i loved writing this so thanks for pushing me to finish it. :)

summary: in which eddie changes his look and overcomes his anxiety which causes him to gain the confidence he needed to finally make a bold move on his best friend(reader).

warnings: some fluff, mainly s m u t. <3

contains: blonde!!dom!eddie, teasing, begging, hair tugging, fingering, degradation, rough, and unprotected sex.

* all characters ( including reader ) of the loser's club are seniors and 18 in this one-shot.

~ 2.8k words.

in january, the day after winter break of your senior year was when everything started to change for you. it was when eddie decided to move out of sonia's home and into richie's. he'd had enough of his mom and her crazy theories of how he was gaining new sicknesses. though, it was also when he blossomed into the person he was meant to be.

eddie walked into derry high early that morning with his brunette curls now dyed blonde, a dark shirt resting over a pair of ripped jeans, and with his fingernails painted black. every girl turned and glanced, and only realized it was eddie kaspbrak after a double take. he didn't care about those glances or the glares from the boyfriends of the girls who stared at him. all he was worried about was how you would think of him and his new look.

the other six members of the club knew of his crush on you for years. even richie was jealous when you joined the group but that evaporated when the three of you became the inseparable trio. you had a teasing sibling bond with richie, who always made you laugh at his new jokes. though with eddie, it was anything but platonic.

you and eddie weren't exactly just friends but it wasn't labeled as any kind of relationship either. when you hung out at the houses of the other members for movie nights, he always sat next to you and cuddled. or at parties, he stood behind you the whole time with his arms wrapped around your waist and chin resting on the top of your head.

what the losers really questioned was when you all hung out and why two friends held hands in public. they didn’t even know that you also kissed his cheek when he walked you home. though a couple of times, eddie’s cheek accidentally turned and you ended up kissing him on the lips instead. neither you or eddie broke wanted to break the kisses at first and almost always continued it for a good moment or two.

unfortunately for either of you, the kisses were never talked about. this because of the constant anxiety over potentially ruining the friendship. then again it was eddie. you were comfortable with him and knew he wouldn't hurt you or go behind your back.

some days you subtly watched him (or so you thought) when he was talking, smiling, or laughing, and you wondered if he was your soulmate. richie and beverly would catch you staring and see how much your eyes shined while gazing at him. it was a weird limbo that you've constantly tangoed with him for the past year and a half. neither wanting to overstep but constantly doing it anyway without realizing.

it was almost like the two of you were meant to be and everything was easy. eddie knew you like the back of his hand. his very attractive hands that were covered with rings now. holyshit.

when he found you, you were going through the books in your locker. he walked up to you and slipped his arm around your waist. you smelled his cologne and leaned back into his chest, smiling that he was in your presence. eddie leaned around your side to peck a quick kiss on your cheek and that's when you noticed the blonde from the corner of your eye.

you turned around so quickly that eddie thought it gave you whiplash. you didn’t let the quick dizziness bother you and instead put your fingers through his hair. he let out a small groan at how good the small massage was and bent his knees so he could come down to your level. eddie was face to face with you and he could easily make out how memorized you were by his curls. "oh my god eds!" when you finally let go, he frowned. “is that good or bad?” he laughed nervously.

eddie grabbed your hand back from when you placed it at your side and interlocked your fingers with his. you looked down at your joined hands and curled your fingers around his tightly to give a good squeeze of reassurance and he calmed instantly. “definitely good eds, definitely.” eddie smiled sheepishly and blushed in return from your acknowledgement.

the other six members of the loser’s club stood down the hall and could see how red his cheeks were by the close proximity. "he’s lapping it up." stan rolled his eyes and spoke up to break the silence from the group watching you and eddie converse. “o-oh shu-ut it,” bill instantly knew stan was jealous that he wasn’t getting any attention from his boyfriend. the stuttering eighteen-year-old put his arm around the curly blonde-haired that he loved and it hushed him. bill smirked and watched him blush when he kissed stan’s cheek.

richie looked around at the other couples and realized he and mike were the only single one’s left. at least he hadn’t taken a ‘vow’ of celibacy like stan suggested he should do. “you think y/n will put in a good word for me with sonia when she finally gets with eddie?” richie asked and patted mike’s back which he swatted right off of him.

beverly retrieved the purse from her locker and unzippered it to grab her chapstick. she looked over at the other’s and mumbled in response. “define finally because that could be tomorrow, a week from now, or even years at this rate.”

and that’s how it went the next couple of weeks. you and eddie would take two steps forward and then two steps back. it was a constant annoyance and the bet between the other’s grew higher every day. richie bet all of his paycheck from the arcade that he now worked at and beverly bet a couple bucks from her work at the movie theater. even bill chimed in and bet some of money he earned from the drawings that he sold to a store down in town. it was complete chaos and yet the two of you were still oblivious.

or so the other’s thought, while the eight of you were at a party now. you and eddie were both a little tipsy from drinking earlier and he was dancing rather closely with you. your small hands were placed around his neck and fingers once again laced throughout his hair.

he held your sides delicately and his rings glistened when they hit the light. eddie's smile was infectious and every time without fail when you looked at him, you caught yourself and looked down with flushing cheeks. what the hell is happening? why does this feel different than any other time?

finally, after the third time of you doing this, he smirked knowing the effect he had on you and took one of his hands from your waist. the blonde placed his finger on the bottom of your chin and tilted your head up slowly. your eyes widened when they reached his and you tried turning but he held your gaze firm. “what’s the matter sweetheart?” he inquired so casually as if you weren’t trying to squeeze your thighs together.

his brown eyes stared into yours, a unique shade that he always claimed was his favorite color. as he waited for your reply he glanced down and took in your outfit. he admired the way your dress hugged your curves in just the right places. you swallowed nervously at how close in contact you were and the fact you felt like he was looking right into your soul. even though you knew it that belonged with his from the start of your friendship.

other people in school always talked in the hallways about how they thought you were soulmates and even about lying. they thought you were actually together but in denial with telling everyone because of how much you and eddie always clung to each other. like right now, you danced with him and watched as he took in a glimpse of you while feeling like your whole body was on fire. “nothing’s wrong eds, promise.”

mike and stan stood off to a corner and waited for bill and richie to bring them back drinks. beverly and ben were in their own little bubble dancing a few feet away from you and eddie. mike watched beverly and ben dance then looked at the two of you, raising an eyebrow in stan’s direction. “what’s up with them?” the curly haired one looked away from mike to see you two dancing then back at him, rolling his eyes and taking the drink from bill’s hand. “i think the bet is ending tonight.”

richie dumped back his beer and input his own comment about the current topic. “hell yes! then i’m one step closer to being off the market.” he snickered but fell quiet when a girl walked by and left a lingering smell of peach fragrance behind. “b-beep beep richie!” bill nudged the trashmouth who only escalated his behavior and risked bumping into irritable stan’s shoulder.

thankfully bill’s boyfriend simply brushed it off but by doing that quite literally so, which caused richie to wholeheartedly laugh at the dramatics. trashmouth put his red cup in the area towards your direction, signaling for the others to look and they nodded. shit eating grins were on each of their faces and for once, everybody was in agreeance.

eddie glanced over at the four and shook his head. you followed his movement and chuckled at richie being over the top as usual. “want to get out of here?” he asked. it was common for the two of you to sneak off and be in your own little world with him. you smiled and let go of his neck and held out your hand for him to take. he grasped onto it and let you lead him out from the small crowd in the living room.

ten minutes later, you were sitting on eddie’s bed in his temporary room at richie’s house. you grabbed his hand and played around with the rings on his fingers. one of them caught your eye and he noticed, making a mental note to give it to you later. “so, what did you mean by the comment earlier?” you asked and cursed at the twinkle in the blonde’s eye. he gripped your side to pull you closer and your breath hitched when he leaned into the crook of your neck.

eddie placed a feather-like kiss onto the sweet spot of your shoulder and instant goosebumps appeared all over your soft skin. you cleared your throat before you could let yourself talk incoherently. eddie grinned into your skin before looking up at you and you almost fainted at the dazed look. whispering hoarsely, you asked him, “are you sure?”

eddie nodded and that was all you needed to lean into his kissable lips. he put his hand on your cheek and moved in closer. you moaned when his tongue touched yours and he smirked. your teeth clunked with his when you roughly gripped the blonde strands on the nape of his neck. he broke apart from your lips and moved to push your shirt up, which you helped in doing and then greeted his lips again for another rough kiss. eddie palmed your perfectly molded chest and you let out a whine.

he chuckled and kissed your neck and then slowly made his way down. eddie started at the middle of where your breasts met and you shivered when his warm breath touched you. “you have no idea how-” kiss. “long,” kiss. “i’ve, kiss. “wanted,” kiss. “to,” kiss. “do,” kiss. “this,” kiss.

your body practically spasmed at the euphoria feeling of him worshipping your body. he unclipped your bra and kissed the top of your left and right breasts. moving down more, he also kissed the middle of your stomach and on each side of your waist as he slid down your ripped shorts. it was when you felt like you could orgasm from just that alone when he kissed the inside of your thighs.

“ok, ok eds. i think we’ve waited long enough!” you tried to hold on his hair to get him up from his position and for him to quicken the movements but, the smug bastard ducked at your attempt. eddie knew what he was doing when he slowly slid down your panties. he slipped a finger over your folds and you groaned when you knew that eddie now knew how easily he turned you on.

“this all for me sweetheart?” you rolled your eyes, a classic stan move but it was ruined when you smiled embarrassingly. “no eds. sorry it’s for richie.” he glared playfully at you and pulled his shirt up and off in a seductive way that shut you up instantly. holyshit. when did he start working out? he unbuttoned his pants and shoved them down, stepping out of them. your mouth watered at the sight of him after he took off his boxers.

he admired the sight of you all spread out for him then climbed back over on top of you. your skin tingled when his finger tip brushed inside your body. “so pretty, sweetheart.” eddie kissed you again with everything he had and you melted into him when he fingered faster. you felt how hard and ready he was for you when you pressed up into him after he angled and curled two fingers inside of you. he swallowed your gasps at the feeling of him continuously hitting your g-spot. “please.” you whined into his mouth.

he looked at you and how pretty you were, which you could say the same about him but there wasn’t enough time to do so when you felt him lining up and pressing against you. eddie pushed inside of you slowly at first. it was almost painful but it stopped when you grabbed his hair and begged for him to go faster. he grabbed your wrists and put them above your head and quickened his pace inside you.

you babbled and chanted his name when his hips hit yours harshly. eddie leaned down to kiss your shoulder and grinned wolfishly at the way you looked. “you look so pretty like this, y/n. vulnerable and breathless under me. such a good girl.” it was so overwhelming and attractive that you gripped him in a vice at the comment. it was still baffling at the fact that your best friend was fucking you. “i bet richie couldn’t fuck you like this.” you looked at him with widened eyes but didn’t deny the comment so he continued going.

“you’re my dirty girl, aren’t you?” he wanted a response so he grabbed a big section of your hair and tugged. you nodded as he slammed into you repeatedly and you could feel a bundle in your belly working you up. eddie scooted closer in between while moving himself inside and out of you and kneeled in between your legs. he smirked at your helpless look and pushed your legs apart even further to spread them open for him.

he looked down at you on display just for him and he moved his hand to position it down and on top of your clit. he flicked it once before rubbing and you gasped. seconds later after a few more pumps inside of you is when you released all over him with him closely following. he looked down at you with a blissful face and kissed your puffed lips that were smeared with red lipstick. eddie collapsed next to you on the side of the bed and turned on his side to look at you.

the sight of you still took his breath away. even with the smeared lip stick and messy hair. he desperately wanted to make you his.“i hope it wasn’t too much?” you poked eddie’s side at his question and he laughed. “no way eds, it was perfect.” you smiled. he cupped your face and looked into your eyes. “i know it’s kind of past asking but do you want to be my girlfriend y/n/n/?”

the next morning, you were in your boyfriend’s arms and holding a mug of coffee in your hands. the two of you broke apart at the sound of a door shutting and of course, richie appeared. he took in your appearance with eddie’s arm wrapped dangerously low around your waist. you looked at the trashmouth who was wearing a wrinkly shirt, along with his hair being all disheveled and poking up in different directions. “long night?” you asked. he snickered and pointed at ed’s your shirt and in a cocky attitude retorted back at you. “more like great night but it looks like you did too.” richie quickly walked by before you had the chance to reply. he wanted to call the others about the bet money while changing for school. before he shut his bedroom door though, richie smirked at the question eddie asked you.

“is that peaches i smell?” you shook your head at ed’s question and his hold on you tightened at your mocking. he smiled at you when you leaned back into his arm and angled your head upwards for another kiss. who knew he could have his best friend and girlfriend all in one?

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taleasnewastime · 4 years

Text

1950

Jungkook x reader genre: fluff word count: 1.7k

a/n: I wrote this while I was supposed to be working today... In my defence there was no work to be done. That makes it ok right? Anyway, this one is kind of heavy and talks about sexual abuse (through cat calling), but it ends happy (if not a tad far-fetched). This was also sort of inspired by the song “1950” by King Princess, the whole “I hate it when dude try to chase me, but I love it when you try to save me” vibe. Enjoy!!

You stumbled slightly as you walked down the road, but quickly righted yourself before carrying on your course. There were occasional flashes of lights as cars drove past on the street, otherwise the road was encompassed in darkness. You could feel the alcohol pulsing through your veins and though you wouldn’t describe yourself as drunk, you had definitely had your fair share of drinks, though you remained aware to the outside world.

Turning a corner, you noticed the recognisable signs that meant your home wasn’t far away. From up ahead however come the outlines of two figures. You thought nothing of it as you continued to walk, but as you approached you grew cautious. The two men were stumbling more than you and talking loudly. A lone woman, you suddenly started to feel vulnerable though they had currently not threatened you in anyway. To be on the safe side you decided to cross the road so as not to pass them. With no cars around you easily got to the other side, this however did draw the attention of the men.

“Hey love, you’re looking lovely tonight,” you ignored the comment, eyes straight so as not to acknowledge them.

“Can’t take a compliment? I was just trying to be nice,” the man continued and you wondered if you should have humoured his earlier comment. Continuing to ignore them you carried on walking.

“Hey, where you off to?” The men started to cross the road, following your lead. “A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be out alone, come have a drink with us.”

You quickened your pace slightly wanting to get rid of the men, but also not wanting to lead them straight to where you lived. Thinking back to earlier in the night you wish you’d taken your friends advice and got a taxi instead of insisting it wasn’t far to walk. You round another corner and could almost see your home but could also sense the men fast approaching you.

“Why you ignoring us? We just want to talk,” the men’s voices were getting closer.

“You know your ass looks fine from this angle,” you internally cringe at this comment, feeling disgusted but not knowing what you could do.

“If you keep teasing us like this, we may have to do something about it,” the comments were getting worse, and to add to that you could see another figure up ahead crossing to be on your side of the road. Tears started to prick your eyes as you felt cornered, but you carried on your course, head still held high in an attempt to seem strong.

“We just want to talk to you for a minute, why won’t you stop?” The voices had almost caught up to you as the man in front of you was almost to you.

“Hey, why don’t you leave her alone?” You were not expecting those words to leave the mouth of the man currently walking towards you.

“Oh, we have ourselves a tough guy,” the men behind you jeered. “Listen mate, we’re just trying to talk to this pretty lady here.”

“Well she obviously doesn’t want to talk to you,” the man was now almost standing by you. “Why don’t you both just turn around and head back to wherever you were and leave this lady alone.” As he drew level with you he kept on going only stopping when you were safely behind him. You weren’t sure whether you should keep walking to your home or stay, but you felt almost responsible for this man that was trying to help you out.

“We’re going wherever this pretty thing is going, she’s been teasing us for a while now and -“

“I said turn around and walk off,” the man interrupted them.

From your position you could see the two men, even though they were stood still they swayed heavily. You could almost smell the alcohol leaking off them. But you could also see the anger coming off them towards the man standing up for you. Not wanting the situation to escalate you grab at the man's hand. At the touch he turns to look at you, features softening. With pleading eyes, you say, “leave it they’re not worth it, can we just go?”

Without another word spoken you both turn and start walking back in the direction of your home. Shouts of “not so tough now” and “yeah we thought you’d run off” could be heard behind you, but they soon faded into the background as you continued to walk, they didn’t follow.

Walking in silence you approach your building and open it up, holding the door open for the man to follow you in. When you finally get to your front door you turn to look at the man. In the light of the hallway you could finally take in his features. His large figure and all black attire made him seem imposing when you first saw him in the darkness of the street, but in the light, you could see his big doe eyes and pouted lips and he looked anything but intimidating.

“Thanks for doing that back there,” you say, your voice coming out softer and quieter than you had intended.

“It may not be a rough area but that doesn’t mean there are jerks and creeps out there, you shouldn’t be walking around by yourself at this time of night,” you nod your head lightly at his words, ducking your head slightly in shame.

“Sorry,” you find yourself apologising.

“I’m just glad I was there to intervene. God knows what would have happened if I hadn’t.” The mixture of his words and the fact you were now safely back in your flat allowed the shock to finally hit you. Tears start to gather in your eyes and then free fall down your face, you had no chance of stopping them, though you wish this could have happened minutes later without the handsome stranger seeing you.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. Nothing happened, you’re ok,” the man says upon seeing the tears. Hesitatingly he takes you into his arms and you soften at his touch. His hand caresses the back of your head that rests on his chest as he soothingly shushes you.

Pulling yourself together enough to pull away, you wipe your tear stained face. Looking up at the man you offer him a tea.

“Sure, but I’ll make them, you go sit on the sofa,” he says, before adding. “If that’s ok? You might need to point out where some of the stuff is.”

You smile warmly at him, nodding your head you open the door wide so he can step inside. Taking off your shoes you lead him to the kitchen and point out the essentials he will need.

“Right, now go get yourself comfy on the sofa. I promise I’ll be through in a second.” He says before starting to boil some water.

You do as he says, collapsing on the sofa, pulling your knees into yourself. You think back on the night you’d just had, your mind focusing on the words the men had shouted at you. Sure, you’d be cat called before, and though those times had been nothing like this, they had made your skin crawl. On this occasion you felt almost sick. Remembering the terror that had coursed through your veins as you walked the streets thinking the men might catch you up and not knowing what they would do if they did. You remember the slight relief when the stranger currently in your house arrived, his stance blocking and protecting you from the men. But he was still a stranger and the anxiety starts to build up in you again as you wonder whether you should have invited him into your house. This night was turning into one mistake after another.

Stuck in your head you jump slightly when a mug is placed on the table in front of you.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” the man smiles gently at you as he takes a seat on the sofa.

“Don’t worry, I’m just a bit skittish at the moment, I just didn’t notice you coming in,” you say picking up your mug you wrap your fingers around it in attempt to find some form of comfort. “Thanks for making this.”

“No problem,” he continues to stare at you, concern in his eyes. There are a few moments of silence before he speaks again. “I’m Jungkook by the way. Should probably have introduced myself earlier.”

“Oh yeah. I normally don’t make a habit of inviting people whose name I don’t know into my home,” you give a small chuckle. “I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you Jungkook.” You stick out your hand formally and he takes it in his, giving a firm shake.

Silence ensues once again. You take a sip from your cup, while Jungkooks eyes never leave your face.

“How are you feeling?” His words break the silence once again.

“I’ve felt better,” you smile sadly at him. “But it’s not like anything even really happened,” you start to almost defend the men. “I mean it was just words and they never even-“

“I would say it was more than just words,” he cuts off your ramblings. “Stop trying good excuse what they did to you. I didn’t catch much of what they said, but what I did hear wasn’t nice,” you advert your eyes, turning your head to try and shield yourself from his stare. “Even if they didn’t say anything, the fact they were following you was too much. No one should ever be made to feel the way they made you feel.”

“It’s nothing,” you whisper, your voice cracking slightly, betraying you.

Warm hands encompass yours, peeling your fingers away from the warm mug. Once the mug is placed down on the table the hands come back to yours. You stare at them as he softly strokes your knuckles. Lifting your head, you move your eyes to look at him, tears start to well in your eyes again.

“I’m sorry,” you give a humourless laugh.

“You don’t need to keep apologising. Come here,” he says before tugging you into him. Head resting on his chest, the sound of his steady heart beat mixed with the gentle strokes on your back calms you down.

“Thanks for everything Jungkook. It means a lot that you’d help some random girl like me.”

“You also need to stop thanking me. It was nothing, really.”

You hum in response. The mixture of the comfortable position you now found yourself in, as well as the tiring night you had, finally consumed you. Eyes heavy, sleep slowly took over you as you lay in Jungkooks arms.

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princeanxious · 4 years

Text

Part One; “A Wounded Snake Lies Still”

A continuation fic in the au i built from this art piece I did and this post that I’d written that inspired this whole idea. I don’t know how many parts there will be, but the plan is for it to be hurt/comfort? It’s just that the comfort comes in small increments, but I promise the ending will be happy!

Fandom: Thomas Sanders Sides

Ships: mentions of past healthy Anxceit, start of story begins w/ analogical, end goal is analoceit! Side royality, Remus is lowkey Aro.

Minor Trigger Warnings: in no particular order.. brief mentions of painful memory loss, brief food mention, Remus and Deceit as sympathetic characters in general, accidental revealing of a secret-Remus feeling awful about it and Deceit being completely forgiving on it. Deceit being sorta selfish but also being very selfless without realize it. Deceit lying when he speaks/ backwards talk.

Serious Trigger Warnings: (slight spoilers) Deceit ignores his own distress in favor of keeping up a nonchalant act around the others, and doesn’t process his inner emotions in a healthy way. Deceit repressing years of his own resurfacing emotional trauma that originally came from his separation from Virgil, Deceit also briefly relives said trauma in the fic and pretends nothing is wrong even though something Really Is. Patton has minor empath abilities in this au and accidentally gets hit with a ride of very negative emotions that Deceit is already internally feeling when he touches Deceit.

(Let me know if I need to tag something else!)

Summary: Virgil’s missing memories have always been a touchy subject. After Remus and Deceit gain their acceptance of from the Light Sides and Thomas, Deceit still seems to have a few secrets to hide. If you asked him, he’d tell you it was for the best that he kept them. Partially concealing the truth was a slippery slope, indeed. But, could you really blame him? When Virgil was dating Logan and finally seemed happy again? To him, All the repression of his own trauma was worth Virgil’s happiness. Their years of love were lost with Virgil’s memories of the past, and there was no way in hell Deceit was about to jeopardize Virgil’s current stability now, not when the only person at fault for losing was Deceit himself.(or, was it? He’s never sure anymore. Trauma is a fickle beast.) Well, one slip up from Remus is all it takes before Deceit finds himself faced with that exact dilema fast approaching, and he finds he is less than prepared to face the music..

[[MORE]]

“Ugh, gross. In front of my deodorant?? Could you guys like. Not?? Be romance-y in the living room?? You two remind me of when Dee and Virgie were dating.” Remus grumbled offhandedly, too tired to deal with his twin’s particularly loud and loving attention directed towards Thomas’s literal representation of the heart this late into the afternoon.

They’d been loudly and shamelessly flirting back and forth from across the room while everyone set up for movie night, Roman in the living room with the others and Patton in the kitchen with Deceit making snacks. It was only seconds later that the duke realized his slip up as everything and everyone around clattered to a halt, the other sides turning stare at him in confusion.

Three years. It had taken Deceit three long, painstaking years and counting to distance himself from the years of memories he’d spent in bliss, to separate his mind from the heartbreak of losing his only love. Three years to come to terms with the fact that his only love now held no memories of the time they spent together, to accept that his love now deeply loved another.

Three years to come to terms with the fact that Virgil would never know what it was like to watch helplessly as his love writhed in pain. To watch as The Line ripped the memories from his love’s very being, forcing Virgil into a clean slate. Three years to come to terms that Virgil would never remember.

Three years of patience and heartbreak and anguish and lies, telling himself that it’d be okay, telling himself that he would move on and heal eventually. Three years of painstakingly separating himself from the narrative he and Virgil used to share, and ensuring that Virgil never had any inkling to what had been of his past. It was the only secret Deceit ever asked Remus to keep.

Rest assured, he’d tried to respark Virgil’s memories many times in the first few months after Virgil crossed over The Line from Dark side to Light, having ultimately crossed for good. It’d only led to fight after fight, driving a wedge further and further between them with each escalated argument. With a bleeding heart, he’d eventually given in, and stopped any further attempts. After all, each attempt only seemed to fuel Virgil with irritation. It had been clear then, that whatever they’d had, was never going to be again.

Three years it’d been. He thought he’d nearly healed, really. Most days he found he could exist and interact with the others and not be reminded of the past, and be comforted that he himself would not be a reminder to the past. Repression had always been his strong suit, though, conciously or not.

The Line had diminished as of late, after Thomas had really begun accepting Deceit and Remus. They could cross The Line for long amounts of time now, and mostly be fine. Occasionally they suffered from a bout of fatigue when disagreements with the others briefly turned sour, feeling The Line tugging back at them insistently. It never lasted for long, but there was always that underlying worry that The Line would finally snap them back into the dark for good if one of them made a final wrong move. The Light Sides didn’t know about The Line, not even Virgil remembered stumbling away from it after all that had happened. And well, if it were up to Deceit? They would never find out about it. Too many questions, too many messy answers.

Three years later, Deceit finds his heart splintering once more, an ache sinking into his chest that he knows Patton feels as they stand nearby one another. Memories flood in harshly, a deep painful longing resurging from the depths of his mind as it always did when faced with his reoccurring trauma sinking its claws into his psyche.

It’s only been seconds, but the silence is starting to feel heavy. Instead of moving on from the previous comment, Remus glances to Deceit, eyes pleading and devastated by having made his mistake, breaking the only promise to Dee he’d ever been seriously asked to keep. And Deceit knows he must do what he does best to save face, there is still time to redirect the carnage.

“Remus, please don’t refrain from spreading lies, that’s certainly not my job, after all.” He teases lightly, keeping his tone precisely on the edge of amused confusion, though his eyes hold an understanding none of the others know to read for. “Next you won’t be telling me that your favorite animal is a squid, not an octopus. Not your worst try at shock humor, yes?”

Remus catches on after a millisecond, drawing out a full cackle. “Sorry, not sorry! You should’ve seen the looks on your faces though! Priceless!! Who knew a shitty joke falling so flat would shock everyone so good!”

Their reactions held the desired effect. Quickly, everyone around the room seemed to relax, Roman even firing back his own playful quip to further lighten the mood. In the end, it was just a bump in conversation, something Remus caused every once in a while as everyone adjusted and Remus learned. Not a single step amiss that wasn’t already expectedly out of line.

Still, he’d have to talk to Remus in private later. Remus was just as sensitive to rejection as Roman was, and paired with his inherently intrusive thoughts, it would come to no surprise if Remus already thought Deceit now hated him. He didn’t, it’d been an accident, and Remus’s first ever slip up in three years since making the promise. Even if Dee had been mad about the slip up, he wouldn’t have had any right to be. He’d be sure Remus was the first person he sought to soothe when they got a free moment alone, it wasn’t right to let those kinds of thoughts fester.

Remus first, Virgil next, as it wasn’t quite crisis averted. He could feel Virgil’s eyes on his back from the living room. He denied his bleeding heart the closure of meeting Virgil’s gaze, of sharing his expression. He was too vulnerable, even now the anxious side could read his tells far too well, often without even realizing why. There was no doubt Virgil would try and talk to him later about it, and no matter how good the terms they were on with each other now were, Deceit knew the conversation would be a rough one. Virgil knows he has missing memories, and only recently had he accepted Remus and Deceit’s vague answers when he’d asked lightly about his past. It was at least him acknowledging they had the answers to the past he doesn’t remember.

If he wasn’t careful, each and every brick in the wall that Deceit had carefully worked to build up in the past three years could crumble right before his eyes, leaving him stripped emotionally defenseless, his trauma bared for all to see. And who knew what the others would do if they knew so much? What would they think of him then? Deceit inwardly shivered at the thought. It would not come to that.

Slipping into the nonchalant act was an easy card to play, it being his strong suit and most comforting form of security, a version of his own little lie of omission to soothe the bumpy situation over.

What he didn’t account for, was Patton gently reaching to touch his arm when everyone else had settled and their attentions returned to their tasks at hand. Deceit fought against his immediate urge to pull away, knowing the moral side just preferred connection through touch when addressing another, and instead looked up to meet Patton with a questioning gaze.

Whatever Patton was about to say died on his lips as he suddenly seemed to reflect an absolutely heartbroken expression, tears welling up in his eyes. Pain and sorrow and surprise seemed to seep into the other’s expression, warring for dominance amongst the primary confusion. It was only then that Deceit realized that Patton was still touching him, his bare arm with an equally bare hand, to be exact. The memory that Patton bore minor empath abilities that were tied into his existence as the representation of Thomas’s morality and feelings sunk in two seconds too late.

Direct skin to skin contact, something Deceit sought often to avoid in general nowadays anyway, was a direct way for Patton to tune into another's current feelings through said abilities, often by accident. There were limits that Patton could control, of course, and Patton only ever seemed to struggle coping with that ability when faced with an overwhelming swell of emotions from the other side. And, well.. Deceit’s mind certainly hadn’t taken well to being reminded of his repressed past, seeping through his protective mental walls with all sorts of roiling negative emotions.

From self-loathing, to dread. From anger, to guilt. From longing, to grief, then to depression, and finally apathy. It just couldn’t be helped that Deceit, a master of disguise and deception, had had three whole years to perfect the act that hid it from the outside and controlled it all from within.

Carefully, Deceit pulled Patton’s hand from his arm, and gently tucked it against the moral side’s chest. Still, he keeps his gloved hand there, letting Patton grasp it with both hands to ground himself after such an emotional ride.

“Deep breaths, dear Patton. Whatever isn’t the matter?” He asks gently, still playing into his act but his eyes plead a different story. ‘Not now,’ they say, ‘I will tell you, but not here,’ they beg. Patton nods slowly, and Deceit carefully wipes away Patton tears. In a move he knows he might regret later if it raises questions, he slips his hat off to gently plop onto the moral side’s head, and gently presses against the others clothed shoulder with his own in a show of comforting affection. It has the desired effect of distracting Patton and lightening his mood, Patton’s lingering upset masked by a watery smile only they can share. Deceit silently mourns the loss of his safety blanket, but accepts that a few minutes of feeling vulnerable while comforting Patton is a good trade to escape having his distress found out. He couldn’t have the other sides cornering him into explaining why Patton had suddenly begun crying without reason. It certainly wasn’t the fact that he felt guilty for Patton having experienced second hand an echo of his painfully raw emotions, no, not at all.

Thankfully their little scene goes unnoticed by the rest of the preoccupied sides, who are far too busy bickering over the movies they want to watch. Well, unnoticed by all but the one who sits to the side. Said side keeps an unconcerned but intrigued eye on the two in the kitchen, glancing over every time he adjusts his glasses to avoid suspicion. Logan says nothing, but knows he has questions for his dearest Virgil when movie night is over. He can only hope that the answers Virgil gives will not raise more questions.

(..Unfortunately, they do raise more questions than answers.. However, they now know exactly who has the answers they seek. It’s only a matter of getting those answers that is a task far harder than they’d ever expected it to be.)

To be continued..

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saviorhandsome · 3 years

Text

도영 001

Sanghoon can’t recall what he was dreaming about as the shrill chime of his work phone rouses him awake instead of the gentle ring of his alarm. Bleary eyed he blinks as he stumbles around his bedroom in search of the current bane of his existence. It’s tucked in the front pocket of his briefcase left on the couch in the living room. Three missed calls and a fourth currently ringing, Sanghoon sighs, steeling himself, feeling very awake now. “Hello,” he greets in what he calls his ‘phone voice.’

“It’s about the boy.”

Sanghoon pulls up to the gate, “I was told you would be made aware of my arrival?” he says as he rolls his window down, waiting for the security guard to let him onto the property, rain drops run down the man’s jacket, the familiar logo on his chest catches Sanghoon’s eye, reminding the psychiatrist how important it is that he does not fuck this up.

It’s only the second time he’s been here but he knows the routine. A generous pat down for anything he can use to record his time in the home. “What happened to romance, huh?” he teases as he watches the security guard run his hands up Sanghoon’s thigh, “don’t you at least want to get to know me first? What’s your sign?” His quiet laugh dies off as he clips on his visitor’s tag, the pocket of fun is over as the anticipation begins to kick in as he sees the advisor to his client’s father getting closer.

“They want you to come more often starting today,” he explains in a hushed tone as they walk down the long hallway to the room where Sanghoon met the boy for the first time last week. “Once a week won’t be enough, I fear.” Sanghoon nods as he looks around, at the frames that decorate the walls, exquisite art adorn the walls trinkled in with subtle reminders that a family does live here and he’s not visiting a museum. After what feels like forever, they come to a stop at the door.

“Did something ‒” Sanghoon’s question is cut off at the faint sound of a child crying, The Advisor's eyes slip closed, Sanghoon thinks the man is praying as he waits for an answer. “They want you to come and help him every day,” The Advisor finally admits as he retrieves a key from his pocket, unlocking the door, Sanghoon puts his hand over his to stop him from twisting the knob, he doesn’t care if the noise catches the interest of the little boy, he’ll deal with him in moment. “I didn’t agree to daily check-ins, I have other clients to help.” Sanghoon explains. He was already apprehensive about doing these home visits in the first place, The Advisor’s previous bullshit he spewed was that the family didn’t want it to get out that the boy needed help so Sanghoon had to drive out of his way to this spiraling estate. They want him to make this trip every day?

“You’ll be compensated for travel, Sajang-nim also said travel arrangements could be set in place to insure your timely arrival. This has already been discussed with your office, they’re dispersing your clients to your colleagues ‒”

“No, you’re joking. Are you kidding me?” Sanghoon drops his hand and turns, putting some distance between them as he shoves his hand down his pocket to get his phone, putting it to his ear after dialing. He taps in the extension quickly when prompted and he doesn’t wait once he’s heard the call picked up.

“You’re renting me out?” He hisses in a greeting to his boss.

“They woke me up as well, Doctor.” His boss replies in his own weary tone before yawning.

“It’s Sunday‒”

“Sanghoon, do your job, stop thinking about yourself and do your job.”

His boss hangs up, Sanghoon stands there with his phone to his ear for a beat before walking back over to The Advisor after putting his phone up once more. A look is shared and Sanghoon decides to compartmentalize everything he feels from this moment on. He has a job to do.

“So…” Sanghoon readjusts his hold on his briefcase as he mentally prepares.

“What did Doyoung do?”

‒

Sanghoon stares at Doyoung who's engrossed in the coloring he's doing right now. Sangcheol is only a little bit younger than this kid and he can't fathom the idea of his nephew doing the things this kid has done in his short time on earth. Sanghoon hasn't written much down yet, just notes on the boy's body language and what he can see from the paper he's drawing.

"Do you know why I'm here again?" Sanghoon asks, finally breaking the silence between them, Doyoung doesn't look up, continuing to passionately scribble with the red crayon. "Do you remember me?" He tries and if Sanghoon was less diligent he would have missed the nod of the little boy's head.

Progress?

"You asked me a lot of questions..." the little boy replies as he colors. "I didn't like it."

"I'm just doing my job, Doyoung. Your parents asked me to come and talk to you, they want the best for you.”

It says something when you're willing to go above and beyond for your child, they care or they would have shipped Doyoung off to boarding school in Europe and made him someone else's problem, he's supposed to lead the company one day and they want his behavior to improve before it escalates and the empire his father's father meticulously crafted falls to ashes.

"Why?"

Sanghoon jots something down and sits up in his seat.

"Doyoung, let's talk about what happened early this morning, would you like to tell me about what happened with your sister? I heard her crying in the hallway earlier."

Sanghoon’s words must register in Doyoung’s mind, the scratching of the color pencil suddenly stops and the little boy looks up at Sanghoon.

Doyoung has the darkest eyes Sanghoon has ever seen. An onyx that dampens out any light that might shine.

“I told her not to touch my stuff.”

Sanghoon nods, hand moving furiously as he writes. There is a stark contrast in the sound of Doyoung’s voice and the look in his eyes, the young boy speaks as if he’s done nothing wrong, no guilty lilt to his voice. “Doyoung, you know Jiyeong is younger than you, she’s still learning boundaries, do you think she just wanted to play?”

“I didn’t wanna play, I told her to leave me alone, she never listens to me ‒”

The pencil in Doyoung’s hand snaps in half and they stare at each other. Sanghoon refuses to blink first, the only way he thinks he can get to this kid is to show him he isn’t afraid of him.

“Do you feel bad for hurting your sister? These floors are hard, Doyoung.”

“No.”

#dy1.

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fbdo1986 · 4 years

Note

idk the only fbdo prompt i can think of is cameron falls asleep on the couch so ferris and sloane have a contest to see how much random shit they can put on him before he wakes up. Besides that, the way you wrote cam & sloane’s 1st kiss was very good, how bout writing ferris and cam’s 1st kiss? Unless that’s gonna be in ur new fic of course. Anyway, i’ll be back if i can think of cuter prompts

yo anon… you’re the best!!!! how about i write both???!! it’s hard for me sometimes to write ferris/cam and i have no idea why?? but i’ll do it for you anon! and honestly i’m not too sure if my fic is gonna involve any kissing tbh! i kinda foster ideas as i go

okay! since i am incapable of putting this one in the same timeline of my sloane/cam fic heres one that goes post the fic im working on, which is an interpretation of that fateful day off! (it’s probably a few days after or so)

warning: slight mention of ab*se bc like. cameron’s dad exists

ALSO SORRY THIS IS SO FUCKING LONG I GOT CARRIED AWAY!

Cameron narrowly escapes to his room, his hands shakily pressing the button to dial up the Bueller residence. He was high of pure adrenaline, and unfortunately, fear. The spiel about how ‘he wouldn’t be pushed around any longer, and seriously doesn’t a teenager deserve to have a life of his own? and how he’s done nothing except nearly exhaust himself to make the man proud and he doesn’t even notice!?’ actually takes old Morris Frye by surprise, and in a good way. He ruffles Cameron’s hair and goes on about how for the longest time he’s been waiting for his son to become a man, and how maybe, he’s proud of Cam. That is, until he realizes Cameron’s mentioned the car. Then all bets are off. It starts with a loud bellowing yell and Cameron can sense it’s only gonna escalate from here. Quickly, Morris is inching his way closer to Cameron and even though Cam is giving an explanation as quickly as words can exit his mouth to try and derail his father, it’s no use for the man who loves his car more than his own family. The man is seeing red, the red of that precious 1961 Ferrari 250 GT California that tumbled to its death from the garage. And Cameron needs to get out of there before he gets any closer.

So he makes it to his bedroom, and the immediate response is Ferris. There’s no one who can save him like the boy who can get out of trouble in any situation. The line rings and he hears the familiar, moody hello of Jeanie Bueller. “Hey, it’s Cameron. Can you put Ferris on, please?” His voice wavers, and Jeanie immediately understands. Cameron won’t lose it, not like how he used to, but these things build up.

“Ferris! It’s Cameron!” Jeanie yells, and Mrs. Bueller asks if everything’s alright. Jeanie keeps silent, letting Ferris spill if he decides to.

Ferris has something inside of him that is fine tuned to discussions of Cameron or Sloane. This shout isn’t typical Jeanie tone, and immediate sirens begin to blare in his ears. From across the house he’s at the phone in the hall, immediately replacing Jeanie at the line. “Hey, what’s up?” He keeps his voice light. Maybe it’s nothing.

“Fer, I need an out. My old man is gonna kill me for this car. I mean it. He’ll find a way to give me hell. If it was his way I’d never come back.” He lets out a breath he doesn’t know he’s holding in. “Please.”

At this point, Ferris has nearly bitten the inside of his cheek raw. He suddenly regrets all the things he’s ever done to put Cameron at risk of being hurt by his old man. Sure, he did think taking the car out was good for Cameron—he always wished Cameron could loosen up and fully enjoy what good things happened to him—but he could’ve never imagined the state it’d be in by the end of the day. He meant it when he said he’d take the heat for this, and he still does. It kills him to know his foolishness could cost Cameron harm. Ever since Ferris Bueller understood just how horrible things get in Cameron’s house he immediately knew he’d always be there for him. It takes a little longer to realize the reverse is true, that he’d be complete and utterly lost without Cameron, and that he needs him to stay sane. He won’t let that show in his words or his tone. He’s gotta be strong right now because that is what Cameron needs.

“Yeah, of course. I’ll get you out of there.” He covers the receiver. “Jeanie, can I use your car?” A silent nod of understanding from his sister. Mrs. Bueller is insisting to take care of it, she’s always liked Cameron, but Ferris wants it all under his control. “I’ll be there soon, alright?” He asks Cameron, hoping he doesn’t know that he’s keeping his voice from shaking. At least he can’t see his hands.

A deep breath. “Thank you, Ferris. Seriously. You don’t understand how much I appreciate this.” Cameron always knows that Ferris is and always will be there for him, but he’s always grateful when he steps up for things like this.

Like lightning after Jeanie gives him the keys, Ferris races out of his house and hops into his sister’s car. Ferris is thankful for his driver’s license despite his absence of a car. And he’s thankful for Jeanie at this moment, too. And most importantly, for Cameron. He fights every urge to completely speed over there, since he’d never forgive himself for getting a speeding ticket on the way to his best friend’s house. When he gets to Cameron’s he makes his way to Cameron’s window. He’s willing to risk heat from Morris for sneaking Cameron out, and if the man even thinks he’s getting at Cameron for this he’s sorely mistaken. Has Ferris ever fought anyone? Absolutely not, but Morris Frye deserves to have a taste of his own medicine for once in his life. Ferris raps on the window as quietly as he can, his eyes lighting up immediately when Cameron turns to face him.

Cameron fights a loud, enthusiastic expression of gratitude, but his sentiments remain. “G-d bless Ferris Bueller.” Ferris simply grins. But his eyes widen with concern when he remembers why he’s here. “Wait, Cam. Are you hurt? Did that son of a bitch—” Ferris can’t stop himself from grabbing at Cameron’s arms and getting a bit too close to look at his face.

Cameron chuckles, swatting him away. “I’m fine, Fer. Quit breathing on me. But seriously, I’m alright.” He looks at Ferris, the absolute goof of a best friend right in front of him. Despite his cool exterior, he really does wear his heart on his sleeve. He’s thankful that all those threats that he’d find a new best friend were never serious. Cameron almost embraces him. Almost. He settles for a shared smile.

“Okay, let’s get the hell out of here.” Ferris rocks back onto his heels and Cameron swiftly stands up from his bed. They get out through the window and shut it tight.

The ride to Ferris’s is awkward. Ferris wants nothing more than to crack a joke and relieve this tension, but he doesn’t want to disrespect what’s just happened to Cameron. The radio is on low, playing the current hits. When they reach the Bueller’s Cameron is bombarded with concerned but sweet proddings from Mrs. Bueller and a comforting look from Jeanie. Cameron feels a bit lighter already, but he only feels like he can fully breathe once they’re in Ferris’ room. The Cars are softly playing from Ferris’s stereo while Cameron flops directly onto the bed and Ferris sits next to him.

“Jesus Christ.” Cameron’s voice is muffled against the comforter, and he slowly turns to face up and look at the ceiling. “I hate this. I can’t believe I have to run away to solve my problems.”

“To be fair, you’re not running away. You’re literally 10 miles away from your house. Plus, I helped you escape.” Ferris leans back on his palms and looks at the ceiling too. “Honestly, I’m surprised you haven’t done it sooner. I wouldn’t last a day there. I don’t know how you do it. Fuck what Morris says, Cam, you’re the bravest man I know.” He breathes out a sigh and wishes he could say more.

Cameron shifts and turns to Ferris for a moment. “No way, man. That’s you.” They exchange a glance. Despite being friends for seven years, words like these don’t get shared often between them. “Thank you. Again. Not even just for this, Fer.” He looks at Ferris intensely. “My life outside of that house is what it is because of you. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

Ferris averts his gaze, but a smile plays on his lips for a moment. He pauses and draws out the phrase, “You, my love, are worth it all.”

Cameron’s face is immediately drowned in heat. He doesn’t know why this is so significant but all he feels is his heartbeat in his throat and he can’t help but sit up, dumbfounded. He looks at Ferris and there’s nothing that can convince him the boy was joking. Ferris, inversely, however, is turning pale.

“What?” That’s all that escapes Cameron’s mouth, but it’s not upset or repulsed. Only curious.

“Look, Cam, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it and it just slipped out and you’re just great, okay? That’s it. You’re just great, the problem is how great you are.” The words slip out so fast Cameron is just barely hanging on.

“I’m what?”

“You’re fantastic. You’re everything I could ask in a friend and more and I’ve just been thinking it over for a few days and I’m so sorry I ever jeopardized your safety. I need you and all of this wouldn’t even matter if it wasn’t for you, Cameron.” His eyes, deep with worry and passion all at once meet Cameron’s. And without a second thought Ferris’s hands are cupping his face and he presses a kiss into Cameron’s lips. Cameron’s caught off guard, insanely surprised, but as his heartbeat slows he can hear Ferris’s breath in an exhale and Cameron presses a kiss back into Ferris. Cameron smiles and after a moment Ferris parts from the kiss and looks up at his best friend.

“Didn’t mean shit, Bueller.” Cameron laughs and all of a sudden the light is back in Ferris’s eyes and Ferris can’t think of anything to do but tackle Cameron in a hug. It knocks Cameron’s lanky frame over, but they just lay there and continue to laugh.

#idk why the format of this looks weird while im posting hopefully its fine #IM SORRY THIS IS SO LONG I LITERALLY COULD POST THIS AS A FIC #also ofc this is ferris/cam based but yall know id die for the ot3 and i didnt wanna bring sloane in to complicate the plot #BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOY!!!!#ferris bueller's day off #cameron frye #my writing #ferris bueller #ferris bueller’s day off fanfiction #ferris bueller’s day off fanfic

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itwasalwaysjustred · 4 years

Text

prompt #001- crux

no pairing, ft. young WoL and a fortuitous meeting, 1.5k words

content warnings: allusions to canon-compliant levels of violence towards a street urchin character

It’s the most beautiful sandwich that Nhagi’li has ever seen – possibly ever, but at the very least since his arrival in Limsa Lominsa. Beautiful, gently toasted bread with pale crusts cradling what looks like a perfectly fried egg on a bed of fresh, green lettuce, all perched on the kind of fine plate one only sees at expensive dining establishments. Just the smell of it, even overshadowed as it is by the salty ocean breeze, is enough to make Nhagi’li’s mouth water expectantly.

While the Keeper would have guarded such a meal with everything short of his life, the sandwich in question has been left to sunbathe on its plate beside its owner. Said owner is currently in the middle of an animated argument with one of the smaller folk, the pair dressed in matching garb, lunch forgotten in the heat of the moment. He hasn’t the foggiest what they’re talking about though, the two speaking so quickly and in a dialect he doesn’t understand, but judging by the escalation, they sound like they’ll be at it for a while.

As far as theft marks go, it really is the perfect opportunity for an on-and-out grab. There’s only one problem with the whole picture: the sandwich belongs to a female Miqo’te.

Seeker though she may be, there is something deep inside Nhagi’li that recoils in fear at the thought of challenging a female Miqo’te for her food, much less actually taking it from her. Back home, such actions would be met with the kind of punishments that were worse than death, and though he is far, far away from the place of his birth, the thought still makes him squirm. He shouldn’t even be considering this. It isn’t right, and surely it isn’t worth the repercussions if she catches him. His stomach clenches at the though, serving as a painful reminder of its emptiness.

You should never have left, moans the pathetic voice that makes itself heard every time Nhagi’li’s troubles seem insurmountable. It’s grown louder and louder with every day that he’s slept somewhere uncomfortable, cold and wet and sore and so godsdamned hungry he’s even contemplated trying to catch fish with his bare hands, if only to keep his strength up. He’d been stupid to run, even stupider to run as far away from the familiar as possible, and now he’s going to die or starvation in this awful, wet city because he can’t bring himself to take food from an easy mark because she’s like him.

Nhagi’li’s stomach gurgles pathetically again, and he grinds his teeth, tail lashing to and fro. “I really am the biggest idiot in all of Eorzea, huh?” he mutters under his breath, even as his eyes dart around the scene of his yet-to-be-committed crime, already plotting. He sizes up his prey one final time before dropping down from the rooftop, falling into step with the hustle and bustle of sailors on the dock. Though he’s far more used to the get-in-get-out quick approach, Nhagi’li has very quickly discovered that a quick escape attracts far too much attention in the city. That’s the thing about living among predators: when something moves quickly, they can’t help but give chase. No, it’s better to move slowly, to act normally, to blend with the crowds as it were until you were safely out of the sight.

So Nhagi’li pulls a piece of parchment from his pocket and saunters along, keeping watch on his prize out of the corner of his eye. Just the thought of taking something from a female Miqo’te is enough to make him sweat, palms clammy, but the ache in his stomach helps to strengthen his resolve. If he’s going to stay alive in this city, he’s going to have to break some taboos. After all, it’s not like he can go back home.

Closer and closer he inches, stopping and starting in painful bouts, until finally he’s near enough that he can make his run. The end of his tail flicks as he pretends to be engrossed in a recently acquired bounty, marching past the arguing pair as he deftly reaches a hand out towards the forgotten sandwich. Only, instead of feeling that delicious freshly-baked bread beneath his fingertips, Nhagi’li feels the smooth warmth of someone else’s fingers.

He jerks back at the same time as the owner of the hand, meeting the gaze of a young Hyur man who looks as surprised by their touch as he is. They only have a moment to stare at each other, frozen by indecision, before it’s shattered by a nearby, “Oi!”

Nhagi’li’s ears flatten immediately at the sound of a woman’s voice, and – judging by the way the man before him flinches – he feels the same way. Fuck. He knew this was a bad idea.

“Run!” The Hyur hisses, jumping into action as soon as the word leaves his lips and darting off down the docks. Instinctively, Nhagi’li takes off after him, following him through backstreets and alleyways the Hyur clearly knows like the back of his hand. The pace he sets leaves the Keeper a little breathless, but adrenaline does wonders for a body in need, and so they run, and run, and run, until the sounds of the angry Miqo’te fade into the distance.

It’s been a long time since Nhagi’li’s had to keep pace with someone like this – not since the days of hunting in the woods with his brother, Nhagi’to’s pace steady and swift. This Hyur runs a lot like he did, familiarity lending him a kind of surefootedness that Nhagi’li cannot help but admire as they leave the streets behind and make for the rooftops. It is only there that the man slows down to a job, and then stops entirely, still poised as though he could take off again if they’re still being pursued.

Nhagi’li does not have his companions poise, and he manages to catch himself just before he crumples completely, resting on the balls of his feet in a familiar crouch as he tries to catch his breath. He really is getting weaker, he thinks dully, as he runs his fingers through sweat-soaked hair and tries to quell the little fizzles of delight that prickle in his veins after such a run. Even for someone as lazy as him, he can’t help it; the thrill of the hunt is tattooed into the very marrow of his bones. He couldn’t escape such a high even if he tried.

It’s only when he looks up at his fellow thief that he realizes how close they are, how close he’s allowed an armed and unfamiliar Hyur who probably thinks of him as competition that needs to be eliminated. That thought is enough to kill any lingering good feelings dead, and he swallows audibly as he peers up through the tangled mess of his hair at the Hyur.

Fuck.

Carefully, oh so carefully, Nhagi’li rests his fists on the ground before him, claws inward in a gesture of peace. When he meets the scrutinizing eyes of the Hyur before him he blinks slowly, drawing out the motion even though he doubts the man before him will understand. I am no threat to you, he wants to say. Just let me leave in one piece. He can stand another beating – it wouldn’t be his first – but he’s a little worried about the impressive set of knives this Hyur carries. Somehow, he doesn’t think his skinning knife is going to be much of a defense against those.

To his great surprise, the Hyur blinks back, not quite as slowly as he should but the exaggeration of the gesture leaves little to interpretation. Nhagi’li can only stare at him, caution warring with curiousity, realizing belatedly that the man is studying him as well, eyes sweeping over his tatty ears, the smudges of dirt on his cheeks, the leftover bruises of his last scuffle, the poor state of his clothes. He knows he looks awful, and he tries not to flatten his ears under the weight of the Hyur��s scrutiny. Truthfully, he doesn’t know why he bothers; it’s not like he’s ever really been proud of himself or his appearance, least of all now.

The Hyur is silent for a long, tense moment, before he seems to reach some sort of decision, nodding to himself. With a crooked smile he reaches out a hand towards Nhagi’li, eyes alight with interest.

“Ye ain’t much to look at, but I’d wager ye’d make a pretty dimber colt once ye got a few straight meals. Fancy learnin’ a new trade?”

There are a million and one things he should ask, about wages and where he’ll stay and what this man wants him to do and if it’s going to earn him the hangman’s noose, but this is the first job offer he’s ever received since he left home and he is dangerously short on self-preservation. It isn’t even really a choice.

Without hesitation, Nhagi’li reaches out and takes his hand.

#ffxivwrite2020

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ambistep · 4 years

Text

Presser

After the events at Los Diablos Air Force Base, a press conference is held. The new special liaison faces a tough crowd.

~1900 words, Retribution Spoilers, mind control and no proof-reading, sorry~

“You have to go out there. They asked for you by name,” Wei Chen looks up at the security feed from the press room - seats filling, guards posted - LDPD in tactical gear. Nobody’s called a state of emergency, not yet - but you can’t tell from the look of things. “You’ve done a hundred of these things, what’s the problem, Ortega?” He didn’t have to ask - but he wants to hear her say it.

“Bad enough coming to these things when we’re winning. We just got our asses kicked, Chen, we should be out there, kicking over every bolthole and abandoned building.” Ortega had let the makeup team touch up her bruises - not like her at all - but they had been ugly, and this whole conference was about putting a pretty face forward.

“Nobody was killed. We stopped the missile,” Chen points out. He doesn’t disagree, it was a loss, but he was trying to get Julia to work with him.

“After it launched,” Ortega counters, “And Clarity and their goons got away with the arms.” And… everything was different about this one. Old, Clarity had called her, goading, warning her to stay down. Cracked her ribs this time - the suit was a piece of work - nothing Charge shouldn’t be able to handle but Clarity had her number. The villain had been warning her - not goading her, like most villains try, not boasting. A real warning, something that seemed sincere - which meant they didn’t think of the Rangers as the enemy, maybe even the opposite, and that worried her more than anything.

Steel’s furrowed brow deepens, confessing his suspicions “We were meant to stop it - Clarity knew we would. It wasn’t a heist, it was a message.”

“A message, great.” Julia throws a hand up, “Where’s Angie, anyway? Should make her stand up on this stage. She’s the Clarity expert.”

He knows Ortega isn’t serious - both of them know better than to push Lady Argent in front of cameras in an official setting. Something down at your own peril. “Recovering,” Chen quickly clarifies, “Not hurt - just her pride - you know how she is when she loses.”

Julia rubs at the side of her face, then stops - remembering the makeup. The headache persists, “Chen, why does it feel like we’ve lost control of the whole thing? Los Diablos used to be our city.”

The current Marshal struggles for an answer - but before he can find one, an aide to Mayor Alvarez, waiting in the wings, gives a saccharine smile and a wave to him, flashing an okay sign.

Chen sighs, “We’re on.”

The briefing room is packed tight - not meant to hold this much press, this much extra security, and the extra personnel from the cooperating agencies. The whole room is hot, crowded, tinged with anxiety. The press is feisty, out for blood, but Alvarez and Miller, for the city and the police respectively, do solid work fielding the questions with non-answers, assurances. Everything is under control. The Marshal and ex-Marshal stand in reserve, a show of support and cooperation from all corners - or scapegoat if needed.

“Next question, Miss Ochoa?”

“Major Miller, with this escalation, shouldn’t we be expecting a federal response? It was a military target, after all.”

Joshua Miller’s smile tightens - nobody in Los Diablos likes to talk about the federal government in their city, as a point of pride. “Actually, we’ve -”

“I can answer this one,” A cool voice from the back of the stage cuts the major off in his remark. A blonde woman just past her middle years, in an immaculate suit, a federal suit. Standing there, like an ordinary human being, a regular person. Smiling that smile, a smile that promises efficiency, structure, discipline. That compliance will be rewarded. A burning effigy, a symbol, a -... or just a woman, in a suit - like anyone else in the room.

Miller nods and turns back to the audience, introducing his guest for the press, “Ladies and gentlemen, Regina King, Deputy Director for Developmental Test and Evaluation, Department of Defense.”

She rises to the podium, taking Miller’s place and adjusting the microphone height to suit her - she’s shorter than her air makes her seem. “To answer your question, Miss Ochoa, I’ve been sent to act as Special Liaison in this matter, only to monitor the situation while making sure Mayor Alvarez, Marshal Steel and local authorities receive whatever cooperation and resources they need in combating… lawlessness and terrorism here in the Free Economic Zone.”

The real message is hidden behind her teeth and eyes. We are watching. We are here to support our interests. We will aid you until you fail, and then it is our matter.

There is quiet, Alvarez and Miller, even Chen, watching their new special liaison with wary suspicion. Mia breaks the silence with a follow-up, “What’s the federal government’s interests here? National security? My reporting has shown a number of defense contractors were targets of this Clari-”

The woman doesn’t miss a step, cutting off the reporter before that name can be mentioned, “At the Department of Defense, all our interests are security.” A winning smile, that bland humor, doesn’t hide the irritation. She hates to submit to questions, from civilians. The contempt is beneath the surface, but someone who knows her could smell it. “A number of defense contractors have been targets of recent violence within this city and the surrounding areas - and the well-being of our private partners is a matter of serious concern. I’ll be coordinating responses between all parties involved, of course.”

There’s a laugh, unexpected and inappropriate, cutting through the tension of the briefing. The Rangers present stand a little straighter, all the security detail starts forward. The cameras shift from the podium to the source in the crowd, a reporter many years Mia’s junior, with a face for television. She rises in her seat, and Mayor Alvarez identifies the reporter for the momentarily uncertain Director King, “Veronica Sandoval, KTLD News.”

Veronica steps from her assigned seat, holding her microphone - everyone relaxes but for the Rangers. The reporter calls out, “What about the target of the missile launched yesterday?” She starts to walk toward the stage, something uneven in her steps, something unsteady in her voice.

The KTLD camera man follows his reporter dutifully, even as Regina fields the question, her easy smile fading for an angered one, a polite, forced smile. “At this time, the circumstances of yesterday’s incident at Los Diablos Air Force Base are still being investigated through regular channels - when they have that information, I’m sure a report will be made available to all members of the press.”

Sandoval continues to move toward the stage, intercepted by an LDPD officer holding out a hand, “Is it true that another facility was targeted, a non-military facility, one of your ‘private-public partnerships’, one south of Warm Springs, Nevada?”

“I’m not sure which facility you mean.” The Deputy Director’s smile is gone entirely, a sour frown fixed to her face. Around her, the briefing room is filled with murmurs and clicking of cameras. Mayor Alvarez is looking to her aides for assistance, and Joshua Miller is quietly sweating as his officers move to restrain the reporter.

The KTLD camera man calls out, now more worried than concerned with holding the camera, “Roni, what’s gotten into yo-”

But she pays him no mind, calling out her accusations, “You know. You know, and I’m sure they would like to know too. You should tell them. Tell them what you do there!” Sandoval clings tightly to the microphone as a second and then a third officer moves to grab her and twist her arm. She fights with the officers even as gasps and panic sweep through the briefing room. Marshal Steel moves to cover Alvarez, and Charge steps up to stand before the Deputy Director.

The strength seems to slip out of Veronica Sandoval, a pained groan before she passes out entirely. And then behind, a quivering cry from Joshua Miller as he rises from his seat, the LDPD Major’s eyes wide open in horror as his body seems to move beyond his control. He pushes Alvarez from the podium - Steel catching her before she falls. The rest of the cops of the security detail start forward.

“What’s wrong with the major?”

“Sir?”

Miller’s eyes calm, his motions smooth, and he leans to the microphone, his voice taking on the same accusatory cadence as Sandoval’s, that same fury fills his eyes. “Tell them what you make there. Let them all see what you really are. I can see it crawling underneath your skin, Deputy Director.” Joshua Miller’s mouth hisses the strange words forced out of him with, “I tried to avoid this - I didn’t want to be involved in your world anymore. So now you’ll have to show them everything. Let them kno-”

Wei Chen’s prosthetic grip puts an end to the major’s rant, a squeeze and punch to the gut from the marshal and Miller slips into unconsciousness, as Sandoval did.

“Start EMS!”

“Get everyone out of here!”

A gunshot coaxes the murmurs of the press room into a symphony of cries.

One of the officers that had restrained Sandoval rises up, a fresh-faced LDPD patrolman, and turns to face the podiums now, a calm passing over him, then an anger twisting his face. His hand loosely holds his sidearm, discharged at the ground, “Let them know everything. Why not? Aren’t you proud of the monsters you’ve made? Aren’t you proud of me?”

Other offices are drawing their weapons now, pointing them at their colleague - panic has reached a fever pitch, but the cameras still roll. Across the city, it must be quite a show - in diners and offices, on city streets, all across every screen.

“It took a lot of work, but I’ve finally brought you here.” A manic smile fixes to the officer’s face as he unholsters his gun, “Welcome to Los Diablos, Regina King. Welcome to my city.” He levels it at the deputy director, possessed in all meanings of the word, out of his mind.

…

There is a hint of panic in her eyes when the gun is drawn, and if nothing else of your plan ever goes right again, then that fear in Regina’s eyes may be enough to make everything else worth it. You wish you were watching through your own eyes, and not this stranger’s - it isn’t the same, you can’t quite taste the fear, as you imagine you could with your own body.

But then her expression hardens. She reaches inside the coat of the bodyguard shielding her and pulls out a handgun and promptly levels it at the back of Julia Ortega’s head, finger on the trigger. Hot, boiling panic rises in you - in your own body, but this puppet’s too.

She says nothing but holds the gun with unsettling stillness, even as a bewildered Charge turns to face her, “What the hell?!”

But the director doesn’t have to explain. The message is clear. She knows who is pulling these strings, and she still knows how to hurt you. Just like always.

You begin to loosen your control of the officer, forcing words through the officer’s lips as you let him lower his gun. “Careful,” the man’s voice, your words, “Your mask is slipping, Regina. They’ll see you for what you are.”

Around the briefing room, amid the panic, the cameras still hold on the strange stand-off between the cop, the Special Liaison, and the hero Charge. Regina starts to lower the gun she holds, even as you slip out of this man’s mind, leaving the chaos behind, and back to your own thoughts.

All part of the plan, right?

#fhr #fallen hero: rebirth #retribution spoilers #scribbly #bluh i havent made anything in ages...#sidestep #regina #mina oh

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lawfulpride · 4 years

Text

Back by popular demand! A conversation between Davos and Thor, Part II. Thor played by @honourablebravery.

captaincoffee07/25/2020

Thor, never the best at 'reading a room', is not foolish enough to be entirely oblivious. Good at this? Nah, probably not. Oblivious? Not so. The slight crease in his brow furrows further and further inward, before he moves to seat himself beside Davos-keeping a good forearm of space between them so Davos doesn't feel crowded in. "Well, you scarcely know me now, generally I have learned that speaking with someone on friendly terms can change that." They clearly have some sort of shared ground, and Davos seems to burn with the need to speak. Perhaps as Loki, he's forever been unheard Thor thinks, a pin-prick of bitterness touching his heart. "Is it something that you would wish to discuss? I am no wordsmith, but I have a gentle ear, and the ability for pragmatism."

Hopeful07/25/2020

"It's . . .. . " Davos ducks his head. He's been working on this: hard. But revelations of his personal struggles remain shameful terrain he was trained for 28 solid years to keep to himself. "It's. Not." He sighs, and looks up. "It's not seemly. For someone like me. I am. I am still learning that I have the right to be." He blinks. "Well. Human."

He gives Thor a long look. " . . . the person I put all my faith and trust in was my brother. When we turned 28, we were the two final contestants, out of all the monks in our temple, to go to trial for the most prestigious title--and responsibility--of my homeland. I was winning. Winning, but I couldn't kill him, even though that was the custom, so I begged him to yield. He was losing badly, but he still wouldn't listen to me, he kept fighting. And I kept winning. And then the light passed over the windows of the temple, and blinded me for but a moment. And Danny . . . his name is Danny, Danny Rand . . . .you've surely heard of him, he is as rich and at least half as famous as Mr. Stark . . . . he took the advantage and disarmed me, and won."

"In that one moment everything I had ever wanted, everything I had ever dreamt of becoming, was gone." He grinds his jaw. "But I was still willing to stand by his side as he took the Iron Fist . . . .the title and the duty of which I spoke. And he thanked me by abandoning us. Abandoning me."

"Coming back here. To play white Kung Fu hero to a city full of reprobates."

captaincoffee07/25/2020

Something about Davos not even being 30 yet both startles and alarms, Thor's brow knitting continually, until it's nearly a flattened line of scrunch. "Siblings are not forged in blood alone, family is family, a lack of a blood bond means little when the pain is so true, the experiences so raw, and the moments so introspective, sharp and clear. Birth right can only account for so much, it's what we know and experience that makes a relationship. This man, Danny, he is your brother, in the truest of it's definition. And you have bene hurt, both by his betrayal and abandonment, and by he effectively sneering in the face of your love and accomplishments." Thor blinks, seemingly startled by how much he's said. "Of course..I can only know this from an outsiders view' He says, quickly. Aware that-regardless of what Davos currently describes, he'd probably not appreciate Thor actually insulting the man. He knew that feeling all too well. "Davos..if I may..what is it you wish to ask him? Can it even be quantified in singular statements? What drives you now?" He saw Davos was indeed human, but he keeps this quiet, not sure how this moral complex is for the other, or what about it disturbs him so. He hasn't enough information yet for that.

Hopeful07/26/2020

Davos folds his arms across his chest. As he is wont to do, he listens closely to Thor's ruminating. The god clearly speaks from experience. "Of course." He looks up suddenly, eyes bright with a different kind of light, one not altogether gentle. "Your brother is the sorcerer who attacked this city in 2012." He would love to do battle with such a formidable creature, but he also knows that to say or even think such a thing toward this good man's beloved family member is unkind. " . . . . as for your question, I don't. I don't know."

"I cannot imagine what I would say."

captaincoffee07/26/2020

There is anger there. Thor can sense it. What he cannot discern is it's direction, and he is not about to make the situation escalate by asking. He feels pain, but he doesn't know quite why he feels pain. For a moment, he wishes he understood people, emotions, nuances better. He tries, and he hopes that is something. "Yes, Loki attacked New York here..in 2012..he was..unwell..very very unwell, that is not..I wish to not make it sound as if I'm excusing him, but much has come to light, since that moment." He chuckles, fondly, almost, reaching for his ice coffee. "You know.' Having a small sip. "It's entirely possible you won't know until you are within five inches of Danny's face that you'll know exactly what you wish to say"

Hopeful07/26/2020

"it might be unwise for me to ever see him again." Davos looks down at his right fist. He flexes it, over and over, slowly, as though something there is missing: the hand that, briefly, held the Iron Fist, when for a time he stole it from Danny. A twitch of muscles, that meditates on what might have been. "I have spent many months rebalancing my chi, recovering my self-control and my....clarity...in knowing right from wrong. Seeing Danny makes me violent and irrational."

"...it did not used to."

captaincoffee07/26/2020

Thor nods, slow, steady, and hopefully with understanding. "Unwise..yes, but are you settled?" He asks, "If you think that it would be possible to never see him, to never have that moment again and carry out your life with something else on your mind, could you do so? I would never advise anything that could hurt you, but I only ask, does it feel wise to you?" He continues, a little quickly. "You seem a man whom carries burdens like brands, Davos. A man who will always feel the burn of things that fester, that he believes wrong, because not having the resolution to something you believed in so deeply..I don't know if you'd be content, letting it go..because to you, it'll always feel like some slow moving knife taking pieces from your spine until someone yanks it back out." He could be wrong, and he truly has little clue where this babbling he speaks comes from..maybe Davos had a way of making everyone more introspective.

Hopeful07/26/2020

Davos sets his jaw. He stands, and moves to the door. But he pauses, and turns. His hand tightens into a fist at his side. He turns it and examines his palm. And he returns to the couch, and sinks back onto it. "You are right."

captaincoffee07/26/2020

He worries for a brief moment if he's said something upsetting, but then Davos just..sits back down. "I cannot speak for you, nor your best interests, Davos..but..I do..I cannot say I do not worry. Your energy is very..intense"

Hopeful07/27/2020

The Steel Serpent looks at the Thunder God in his gauging, serious way. "I was born to protect, and I must find something to protect, or I will run mad." It's a confession, a tacit agreement.

captaincoffee07/27/2020

Something to protect. It seems there could be a double meaning to that..but it feels..rude to ask. He's not sure how to respond, precisely. "What about protecting yourself..and what you believe in? It may..I feel that there are causes, things you sympathize with, perhaps, if devotion is what drives you..looking somewhere to it?"

Hopeful07/27/2020

"That is why I am a shifu at several training centers now." He rubs a palm down the back of his scalp, and inclines his head toward Thor in a single nod. "That is what I seek. Truth to my purpose. To be devout, to the people who need to learn to protect themselves. Some of them are children. Some women battered by the pigs who have abused the sanctity of marriage. Some teenagers."

"It's only...Can you miss the person who abandoned and betrayed you? I fear that is my dilemma. Yet I don't trust myself to speak to him without reverting to shameful ways."

captaincoffee07/27/2020

Norns, what a loaded question. And such a question does not have a simple response-it cannot, at the heart, have any response not loaded and situation-based. He decides to hone in on the most simplistic part of the question (or what Thor thinks is the most simple) "Yes, I think you can' He says, gently, 'But you and I both know there is more to it than that..is there not?" The set up is a clear opening I can expand upon this should you desire it. You are safe in my company.

Hopeful07/27/2020

"Please explain." Davos takes the opening, finally sipping his nearly forgotten tea.

captaincoffee07/27/2020

"Betrayal..is not a black and white issue, and it of course, determines on the type of betrayal." He's hesitating, but it's clearly in result of thinking how best to word what he desires to bring to the table here. "And how badly you are hurt by said betrayal. I think that, if one is to look for forgiveness after a betrayal has occurred, then context is utterly crucial."

Hopeful07/27/2020

"I don't want forgiveness, I want him to beg it! And I want to still tell him to go to hell!" Davos speaks ferociously but his whole body tightens, trying to regulate the emotions he keeps too constantly locked up in the dark. "I want him to have never left, I want us to be home! I would have gladly yielded him the honor he was bestowed if he had just taken it seriously!"

A long pause and he draws out a shaky exhale. "Forgive me, I should not have raised my voice."

captaincoffee07/27/2020

Thor's first instinct is to reach out, he's tactile, after all. But he doesn't have consent and he's not sure what a man like Davos thinks of such things. Knowing full well some individuals hated touch. His fingers flex against his own leg, a slight inward curl, "Anger is not always something shameful" He points out, gently, "Sometimes it is good to let it out..lest it consumes us." Unless Davos believed anger a shameful thing, "You are not..." No He puzzles, then tries again, "This is a safe haven, Davos"

Hopeful07/27/2020

"A weapon does not know anger." The words are hollow and come from a dead place behind Davos's now shuttered and lightless eyes. "A weapon does not indulge in emotions. It is dangerous. I do not think you unsafe. On the contrary, you are .....you are quite kind."

"I want him to have valued me...as much as I valued him." That's the root of it all. That's the bottom line.

captaincoffee07/27/2020

"You're a human first, Davos" He lets that sit, a moment. 'I was not always good...maybe this is why I make such an effort now..maybe I always had goodness inside, but could never access it..or..something." Words are not his strong suit. "You know the truth that you cannot force him to value you...Davos, it hurts..but Danny's blindness is not because of you, but him, and whatever has completely clouded his mind, his vision, his everything."

Hopeful07/27/2020

Davos bites his tongue halfway to saying "I know that!" because. Does he? Intellectually, perhaps, but not in his heart of hearts. "I have never been exposed to what...the Western world, I believe, refers to as 'positive reinforcement,' but I shall attempt to believe your words are true."

captaincoffee07/27/2020

"In truth..I do not quite grasp that concept either. My..my father's belief to me..was that..as long as you did what he claimed was 'good' then..it meant something. But it had to align with his personal visions. Order, regulation, he saw the future, did he? Maybe he claimed such, not sure...but I was so brash, so arrogant. And after years of encouragement from him to be so, he tells me no, it is too much, humble yourself..and I do..but it still did not align with his beliefs" "Loki suffered worse for it. He saw right through him at points..he always was to clever.."

Hopeful07/27/2020

Davos lifts his head from where it's been resting, in his hands, and studies Thor perceptively. "My parents are like your father. It's exhausting. I'm very sorry. The price of being the model pupil, always, is steep. But I succeeded often in being what my mother and father...mostly my mother, demanded. It was just that it was never quite enough. I could always be more perfect. And when I was not, I did not exist."

captaincoffee07/27/2020

"And I, to you, I am sorry..but if I may?" He has no idea how to preface it, simply launching himself head-long into words and hoping it sticks "I have learned, and I cannot claim this to be universal, these parents of ours..they have ideas, they want things accomplished. My father wanted a King, and he molded me to be just that, but when I started to eek from his mold, he punished me. He had two sons..well, Loki is Loki, but we grew up..side by side..and he made it seem as if the throne was allowed to both of us, but he deliberately kept the truth at bay. I was to take the throne, Loki not, and in his eyes we both failed because of what? Because HE couldn't be arsed to communicate openly? Because he treated fatherhood like putting pieces into a puzzle? Adding sealant to a sculpture? How can we do wrong or right when to him, sharing his thoughts was not..we were never worthy of his true voice, only spiels I have to wonder were rehearsed, he even banished our sister and told NOBODY." Now Thor is raging, that tell-tale fiery personality that still lingers beneath the surface, even to this day, rising like an encroaching flame. "She was too powerful..for him..' he scoffs, 'Imagine.." Lies, lies, deceit. Half truths. "Davos, we..we could never live up to what our parents desire, because their desires are not tangible, they are unrealistic, they always were. To the offspring are a means to an end, a continuation in a storyline they've crafted and could never finish, because we have agency. If they wanted someone to carry out legacies, whatever, to their exact specifications, make models, or something, do not expect that people with brains and feelings and hearts are blank slates waiting to be guided about like dogs!"

Hopeful07/27/2020

Davos watches Thor storm around his own lodgings, his inspirational words turning into a blaze of still unresolved emotions. The Kung Fu master blinks slowly once. He then smiles, a small soft smile, almost modest in nature. This is so familiar. Danny has a temper like this, too. Danny likes to rail against injustices, too, albeit a bit more sanctimoniously than this Thor fellow does.

Something about it is as comforting as the commiseration, the empathy, within the words themselves. He stands and walks over to the ranting god, and lays a hand on his bicep. "Are you alright?" he asks, and it's clear he actually cares. Davos isn't much of a deceiver.

captaincoffee07/27/2020

The touch does not startle him, it is both welcome and relieving. "..Are you?" He asks, quietly. "I.." He chuckles, 'I am a Thunder God for a reason, it appears." Aware that the moment is radiating tension, but comfort in the same shared space. 'Our lives seem oddly similar, Davos, in some ways."

Hopeful07/27/2020

"I am, in fact." Davos huffs a laugh through his nose, and nods. "Perhaps we are."

captaincoffee07/27/2020

Thor's grin turns downright radiant, pleased with the good discussion, moving to turn himself more fully, his own wide-palmed hand loosely grasping Davos's shoulder. "I am glad, to have given you some chance to alleviate some burdens, and I would be honoured to have you as a friend."

HopefulToday at 2:17 PM

Davos reddens. Particularly his cheeks and ears. They aren't especially large ears, but with his shaved head, they become prominent. He could face down any foe with his fists, and with his keen wits, he could navigate nearly any delicate intellectual scenario as well. But being told by a friendly behemoth that he wants to be his friend, that it would be his honor? That's intimidating to someone trained to disregard emotional attachments altogether, save those which pertain to loyalty, and to devotion. "I." Oh, but it's very good for him, this scenario. "I would also be honored." He grasps Thor's shoulder, in return. He has to stand on his tiptoes.

#Interactions: Thor Odinson #ic #Davos #Davos Iron fist

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crackimagines · 5 years

Text

Reunion at Dawn (evil!Byleth AU)

AU Masterlist Here!

Withering Flower - Chapter 5

5 years have passed since the Battle at Garreg Mach, and the war has been drawn to a stalemate. Constant attacks by the Knights of Nemesis have halted any progress the Empire and Church may have made.

After maintaining a facade of neutrality, Claude finds out the truth of what Byleth has been planning throughout all this time, and is now racing against the clock to get the truth out before it is too late for everyone.

-----

The Elites of the Fell Star Journal - “Breach”

Throughout the five years, the Elites of the Fell Star was sent all across Fodlan to gather resources for a super weapon Byleth wanted to make.

We had built it under Garreg Mach so that way only our engineers and mages could tamper it, and at all times it was under heavy security.

Once it was finally finished, it was Byleth's favorite toy.

He shipped it out into some god-forsaken desert in the North and had a good chunk of us guarding it.

The fortress holding it was a spectacle to behold.

It was also the most boring assignment in the continent for a Knight of Nemesis.

Tedious inspection drills, endless hours of guarding impregnable magic fields.

Things got so bad that when a breach of security was reported, we were almost happy to be chasing down someone again.

If only we had known what an embarrassing shitstorm we were about to wade into, and how the situation escalated all the way to Derdriu.

We probably would have razed the entire base to the ground...

-----

CURRENT STATE OF FODLAN:

3 Years Later after Chapter 4

Imperial Year 1185

When Byleth, now referred to as Nemesis, announced his presence to the world in Arianrhod, he had declared war on the Adrestian Empire and the Church of Seiros. And by association, the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus.

For such a small force to deal with a 3-Front war, everyone thought he would be crushed in a matter of a few months, or even weeks.

The Church of Seiros was the first to attack, sending a relatively strong army to Garreg Mach and to secure the Monastery.

However, the forces were completely obliterated in an ambush right outside of the monastery, with magic and beasts no one had ever seen before.

This showed that Nemesis would not go down easily, if at all.

Before anyone could make the next move, Nemesis launched a full-scale counter attack with the Knights of Nemesis on all fronts.

While had not conquered territory to expand, he razed each city to the ground while taking all the supplies and any prisoners back to Garreg Mach.

Several attempts were made to infiltrate Garreg Mach, but each time was a critical failure.

His forces could warp in and out of the battlefield, inflicting maximum damage while taking minimal losses, no one had a good counter to his hit and run tactics.

Edelgard, previously having Nemesis as her professor, knew how dangerous he was and tried to avoid direct combat with his forces as much as possible.

The only trump card she has against him, is the Death Knight, which no forces have been able to take down thus far.

The war is at a stalemate.

Claude, having stayed neutral the entire war, decides to investigate what Byleth has been up to.

Having been careful in setting his spy networks, has been keeping a close eye on him.

Not only that, an anonymous source saying that they were a Knight of Nemesis and wanted to defect gave Claude vital information.

Large amounts of soldiers and resources were poured to moving an item from Garreg Mach to the deserts of Sreng. They could not put what exactly it was into the letter, but time was of the essence to reveal this project.

They could not hope to stop it Sreng, but once they found out what this item was, it would be pulled back to Garreg Mach and be hopefully destroyed there.

In order to find out what it was, he sends a small force to run a covert operation.

Hilda, Lysithea, and Ignatz were trusted to keep a low profile and check it out.

Deserts of Southern Sreng Unknown Facility...

Ignatz turned the corner in the hallway and saw two guards chatting as they continued in the direction opposite of him.

(Guard 1) “Damn, the test did that much destruction?”

(Guard 2) “Yeah, it was a good thing that we were told to stand back as far as we did. The debris of the buildings went everywhere.”

(Guard 1) “Thank the goddess that it was uninhabited.”

When they turned a corner to the right, they disappeared. It looked like they were at an intersection now.

(Ignatz) “What are they talking about?”

(Lysithea) “We’ll figure it out soon enough, now let’s get moving!”

He nodded, and the trio quietly ran to the intersection.

Hilda checked the right side while Ignatz checked the left.

(Hilda) “Jeez, how slowly can these guards walk, they’re not even out of the hall yet!”

(Lysithea) “Be quiet!”

(Ignatz) “Coast is clear over here, let’s get a move on!”

They walked down the hall trying their best not to make any noise as they slipped by the guards. They kept walking down the corridor, looking behind and front of them.

(Hilda) “The room the double agent told us to meet them in is getting close, right?”

(Ignatz) “If the map is accurate it should be...here!”

Ignatz readied his bow before Lysithea quickly opened the door, drawing out an arrow and looking into the room.

(Ignatz) “...Clear.”

Hilda nodded and shut the door behind them, holding her axe tightly.

(Lysithea) “Where is the agent? Did they fake us out?”

(Ignatz) “Must be running late. If that’s the case they should knock on the do-”

KNOCK KNOCK!

Everyone hid behind cover as Ignatz put his back against the wall near the door.

If the situation came up where they didn’t see each in the room, they had to knock back in a certain pattern.

Ignatz slowly put his fist against the door.

KNOCK! KNOCK...KNOCK KNOCK!

The door slowly opened and the figure revealed themselves.

“Whew, thank goodness you guys are-What in the-?!”

(Everyone) “Leonie?!”

(Leonie) “H-Hey, keep it down you idiots!”

(Lysithea) “So the rumors were true! What in the world are you doing with Byleth?!”

(Leonie) “Listen, there’s a time and place for that, but that isn’t now! I promise I can explain everything, but for now put these on!”

Leonie down disguises for everyone. They were uniforms with bits of armor, and a fully sealed helmet.

Once everyone put on their helmets, they turned to Leonie.

(Hilda) “It’s good to see you’re okay but, it’s been five years! Why did you suddenly decide to contact us?”

(Leonie) “City after city, civilians dying in the droves and being ordered to kill every one of them? That’s...That’s something I can’t in good conscience let slide, even if it was at some point for a good cause. But that doesn’t matter, I need to tell you about what you came for! It’s...It’s a super weapon the likes of which we’ve never seen before. It’s called the Javelin of Liberation.

(Ignatz) “That name doesn’t sound good. What does it do?”

(Leonie) “That’s all I can say. The last thing I want to do is risk what little time I have. Here, take these papers!”

Leonie shoved documents into his hands.

(Leonie) “Bring it to Claude, and he’ll know what to do. The fate of Fodlan...No, this world lies in your guys hands! You have to bring it to him! Do you guys have an extraction point?”

(Lysithea) “Yeah, we have a boat that can-”

(Leonie) “Tch, that’s not fast enough! We’re already preparing to ship out the Javelin back to Garreg Mach!”

(Hilda) “What?! We were too late?!”

(Leonie) “No, just in time as a matter of fact. I’m supposed to be transporting this to a portal that’ll take us to Gronder Field in 2 weeks!”

(Ignatz) “Why Gronder?”

(Leonie) “We’ve had scouts examining the area from where we wiped out Those Who Slither, and it’s been completely unguarded since Edelgard thinks that place can’t be used anymore. We’ve been using it as a shortcut to avoid Alliance and Kingdom forces to get to Sreng. I can get you guys through that portal and from there, you can hijack a carriage to get back to Derdriu!”

(Lysithea) “Sounds like a plan to me, but what about you?”

(Leonie) “I...I gave up trying to justify myself a long time ago. I’m ready to pay the price for what I’ve done with my life. And that means doing the right thing.”

(Hilda) “Come with us! We can’t just-”

(Leonie) “When you get out, take a left and keep going straight! If they ask what you’re doing, say you’re redeploying back to Garreg Mach as an assignment by me! Now go!”

Leonie immediately left the room, leaving the three alone.

(Hilda) “Leonie...”

(Ignatz) “...Come on, we need to move. We need Claude to get this.”

As Leonie walked down the hallway, she looked down and sighed loudly.

(Leonie) Claude, I hope I can do right by you now...

(Shamir) “You’re sweating a lot there, Leonie.”

(Leonie) “S-SHAMIR?!”

She turned around and saw Shamir leaning against the wall.

(Shamir) “Those are some guards I haven’t seen before. In fact one of them looks like a kid, didn’t even know we made uniforms that small.”

(Leonie) “S-Shamir I-”

Shamir put her hand on Leonie’s shoulder and leaned into her ear.

(Shamir) “Next time, check your surroundings completely. You’re lucky it was me around.”

Leonie’s eyes went wide and turned to Shamir who was already walking off.

(Leonie) “Wait...Does that mean you-”

Shamir signaled a thumbs up behind her as she kept walking.

(Leonie) “...Thank you, Shamir.”

Derdriu, War Room

2 days later...

12 days before Javelin of Liberation ships back to Garreg Mach.

13th of the Ethereal Moon (12/13/1185)

(Claude) “First of all, thank you guys for risking your necks. We never would have gotten such criticla information without you.”

(Hilda) “If anything we should be thanking Leonie. I...I wish she could’ve come with us.”

(Ignatz) “It doesn’t feel good leaving a classmate behind like that.”

(Lysithea) “Did you guys forget what she said already? She’s doing this for us, let’s not waste it.”

(Claude) “Lysithea’s right. All we can do now is look forward and try to make things better. Now, the papers?”

Ignatz nodded and handed Claude the documents he kept safe.

As Claude read the papers, his eyes slowly became wider.

(Claude) “Goddess, this is what Teach has been doing?!”

(Lysithea) “Yeah, we read the reports on the way here...I didn’t think anyone had that much magical power in this world. The technology-”

(Hilda) “Is freaking scary! Do you think he really is going to do that?”

(Ignatz) “With how he’s been completely destroying the Church, Empire and Kingdom? I have no doubt in my mind...”

(Claude) “Hilda, get the fastest couriers we have that can slip by Garreg Mach and bring them to me! Ignatz, I want you to order to have our troopers stand by for combat. Teach is going to know we’re up to something. Lysithea get the best mages we have to prevent any kind of magical attack that the Knights of Nemesis might have!”

Everyone nodded and ran out the door to do what they were told, there wasn’t a moment longer to lose.

He took out three papers and a quill with a bottle of ink.

(Claude) “We have to get everyone together to stop this. If we don’t...Doesn’t matter who wins this war, we’re all ending up dead...”

10 days later...

2 days before Javelin of Liberation ships back to Garreg Mach.

25th of the Ethereal Moon (12/25/1185)

It was the extremely early in the morning when everyone started arriving in their escorts.

Dimitri was the first to arrive, alongside the class of the Blue Lions. As they were nearing the gate, a blue haired woman greeted them.

(Dimitri) “Marianne!”

(Marianne) “Hello your majesty. It’s good to see you again.”

(Dimitri) “And to you as well. Though, I wish this was under better circumstances.”

(Marianne) “Claude is waiting for you in the War Room. If you would please follow.”

Dimitri nodded and followed, the rest of the former Blue Lions close behind them.

The next to arrive was Edelgard, closely tagged behind a Royal Guard and the Black Eagles Strike Force.

This time it was Claude who greeted them.

(Claude) “Edelgard.”

(Edelgard) “Claude.”

There was an awkward silence before Claude cleared his throat.

(Claude) “If you’d follow me, Dimitri will be there. All we’re missing is Rhea.”

(Edelgard) “It must be a very desperate situation if you are expecting me and her to get along during this meeting.”

She expected Claude to crack a joke, but his expression just grew darker.

(Claude) “If you don’t, then I might as well just kill us all myself to save Teach the trouble...”

(Edelgard) “I’ll...be on my best behavior then, Claude.”

(Claude) “Appreciated.”

Rhea was the last to arrive, coming in with Seteth, Flayn, and Catherine as her escorts. The Knights of Seiros stood outside, across from the Kingdom and Empire’s royal guards.

Dimitri brought them in and guided them to the room that they would all be sitting at.

(Dimitri) “Lady Rhea.”

(Rhea) “Hello, Dimitri...I see that woman is already here.”

(Dimitri) “Y-Yes-”

(Seteth) “I can only guess how you must be feeling, your worship, but I humbly ask that we keep our minds open. It must be an urgency of the upmost importance if Claude were to invite those who are warring to come together like this.”

(Flayn) “And the professor isn’t here...?”

(Rhea) “Because that child would be dead, Flayn. I am barely holding my hatred in as it is...”

(Catherine) “Lady Rhea, please. Let us hear what they have to say first.”

(Rhea) “Hmph...”

When Rhea and Dimitri entered the War Room, Claude was sitting at the head while the classes were standing near their respective leaders.

Rhea sat down at the other end of the table, facing Claude, while Dimitri sat across from Edelgard.

(Claude) “Alright...onto business, we all understand the general idea of why we’re here, yes?”

(Dimitri) “Yes.”

(Edelgard) “...Indeed.”

(Rhea) “Hm.”

(Claude) “Teac-...No, Nemesis is planning something huge, something that dwarfs this war entirely.”

(Rhea) “Oh please, what could those band of heretics even do-”

(Edelgard) “Those ‘heretics’ if you haven’t noticed have been decimating all of our forces across the entire continent! And if I recall correctly, your forces were so confident marching up to Garreg Mach, only to end up with no survivors!-”

(Rhea) “You dare?!-”

SLAM!

Everyone turned to Dimitri who had completely ripped off a part of the table when he slammed his fist into it.

Though he didn’t mean to do that, it certainly got their attention. Whatever works he supposed.

(Dimitri) “We have no time for your grudges right now! I have seen first hand three years ago of what he is capable of, and the fact Claude brings us all here despite those grudges, and tells us that he is planning something? I’d take this meeting as a priority over your ideals!”

Rhea and Edelgard sat back down into their chairs and turned back to Claude.

(Claude) “Thanks. Now, how much do you guys know about Nemesis thus far?”

(Edelgard) “He has been evading our main forces and have been striking at strategic points along the borders of Faerghus and the Alliance. I have only fought his men, none of his Elites or himself as of yet.

(Dimitri) “Dedue and I encountered him in Arianrhod where I was to be executed. Back then, I only cared about getting my revenge, believing Edelgard was behind the Tragedy of Duscur but...Nemesis had opened my eyes to the facts. Besides that, our forces have had minimal contact with him. The Death Knight protected Mercedes and Annette from their assassins, but that’s about it as direct contact goes. I do not think they are interested in Faerghus besides key points associated with the Church.”

(Rhea) “He has been slaughtering my followers with no hesitation, and have devastated most of our bases...”

(Claude) “Then let me tell you what exactly he’s been up to. I’ve sent some of my men to Sreng after someone from within contacted me...-”

...

Scouts looked at the soldiers standing outside and motioned for the others to head back.

It was confirmed. Claude has called all the leaders to Derdriu.

Byleth and his forces were closing in on Derdriu as they marched forward.

Though it took a lot of resources to do so, they teleported directly outside to bypass any of the border patrols, and everyone wore black to blend in with the darkness of night.

(Byleth) “So it was true...You did allow a breach of security to happen, Leonie.”

He turned around to Leonie, who was kneeling on the ground with hands tied behind her back.

Riddhe and Alois were standing next to her, holding their weapons firmly.

(Byleth) “You disappoint me but at the same time...I cannot fault you for going behind my back.”

(Leonie) “...”

(Byleth) “You always were a kind person underneath.”

(Leonie) “And I thought you were too?! Those years we spent slaughtering civilians, how can you still look any of us in the eye?! You and Jeralt spent so much time protecting the people, and you’ve become no more than a glorified bandit leader!”

The soldiers looked to her in shock of what she was saying.

It wasn’t necessarily that she was in the right or wrong for saying it. It was more of the fact she said that to begin with.

(Byleth) “...I was a fool for believing that you could understand why I was doing this. Perhaps I had a bit too much faith instead of relying on my logic.”

(Leonie) “What we did to Randolph and Fleche, what we did to all those civilians?! How do any of those actions justify what our goal is?! You said we’d be bringing peace to the world, not destroying it!”

The soldiers started talking amongst themselves, agreeing and disagreeing with her.

Byleth just sighed.

(Byleth) “I always did like you, Leonie. So, as an act of mercy, you will not see what will become of your classmates.”

He unsheathed the sword of the creator before Percy walked up.

(Percy) “Sir?”

(Byleth) “What is it?”

(Percy) “I’ll be the one to do this sir. You need to focus on the task at hand, you shouldn’t have to kill one of your students.”

Byleth stayed silent. True, he really didn’t want to but he had to make an example for the men, but at the same time...

(Byleth) “You have my thanks then. Percy, take care of her, and make it painless.”

(Percy) “Yes, Nemesis.”

Alois and Riddhe stepped to the side as Percy began charging a spell in his hands.

Shamir and Alois looked at each other but didn’t say anything.

They knew what was about to happen.

(Leonie) “Percy...”

(Percy) “You’re my friend Leonie so...Sorry about this.”

Shamir and Alois closed their eyes and looked away.

Leonie shook her head slowly.

(Leonie) “You were always too compliant for your own good, ya know?”

Percy silently nodded, and raised his hand at her.

The next thing Leonie saw, was her world going black.

Percy picked up Leonie’s body and turned to Byleth.

(Percy) “I’ll bury her for you, sir.”

Byleth nodded silently.

(Byleth) “Now then...Riddhe, prepare the artillery.

....

(Edelgard) “Byleth intends to blow up the entire planet?!”

(Claude) “In his words, it’s to start everything from zero. No church, no crests, nothing so...what better way to do than to wipe the earth clean?”

(Dimitri) “And...And he already has this weapon?!”

(Claude) “No. He intends to use it Garreg Mach, and we have a limited time to intercept it.”

(Rhea) “And where is the damned child going?”

(Claude) “From the Hyrm Mountains and how long it’ll take all of our forces to reconvene, it’ll be 3 days too late to get him at the base of Those Who Slither. Our next best option is to intercept him right at the heart of Gronder Field.”

(Edelgard) “...Tch, how ironic.”

(Dimitri) “I loathe to think what would’ve happened if this war carried on as it did. We’d be fighting each other there instead...”

(Rhea) “Do not dwell on such useless thoughts, Prince Dimitri. What matters is that we kill Nemesis as fast as possible.”

(Edelgard) “We are in agreement for once.”

(Claude) “So, we can put aside all of our differences to stop Nemesis then?”

Everyone nodded and the classes started whispering to each other.

(Claude) “Fantastic. Now, let’s send letters to your armies standing near the borders and prepare to-”

KABOOOOM! (Claude) “...Fight.”

(Imperial Royal Guard) “LADY EDELGARD! THE KNIGHTS OF NEMESIS HAVE BEGUN ATTACKING DERDRIU!”

(Hilda) “They got past our patrols?!”

(Claude) “Figures, EVERYONE, PREPARE FOR BATTLE!”

Platoons of soldiers of the Knights of Nemesis began pouring onto the roads to Deridru.

(Gilbert) "GET TO THE FRONT, WE MUST PROTECT THE CIVILIANS!"

The Lion Corp moved to the front, forming a blockade with their massive shields, blocking incoming arrow fire.

(Death Knight) "MAGES!"

Imperial mages unleashed a volley of spells onto the troopers coming in, the Death Knight charging into them with his bodyguards on horseback.

Rodrigue and Judith came in with a number of troopers behind them, joining the fray.

(Judith) "Those damn mages up there are raining hell on Derdriu! If we don't get up there fast enough, this entire town will be in flames!"

(Rodrigue) "We can't get close enough! The archers are providing cover for any riders we send up there, and going by foot is suicide!"

(Gilbert) "All we can hope to do is block their main forces from storming the city! The kids will be getting the civilians to safety!"

The Death Knight rode back to them, holding his scythe firmly as he looked to the Titanius Golems moving in behind the soldiers.

(Death Knight) "We have no time for idle talk, we must take down those golems!"

(Rodrigue) "Right, TROOPERS, WITH ME!"

The four generals charged alongside their men and took the Knights of Nemesis head on.

(Seteth) "They are using the other entrances to breach the city!"

(Claude) "Golden Deers, get the townsfolk to safety!"

(Dimitri) "Lions, we shall take these bastards head on!"

(Rhea) "Knights of Seiros, we shall join the Prince in smiting down these heretics!"

(Edelgard) "Black Eagles, we move to take out the artillery!"

The classes moved out and the leaders about to join them until they heard something warp in behind them.

As the sun rose in, they saw the shadow of the person.

They all drew out their weapons and spun around, pointing it at the figure.

(Byleth) "It's been 5 years..."

No one said a word as they stood their ground, waiting for him to make a move.

(Byleth) "I should've been keeping a closer eye on you, Claude. You were always one of the more crafty students."

Claude's brows furrowed, keeping his relic trained on Byleth's head.

(Claude) "Why the hell are you trying to blow us all to oblivion?!"

(Byleth) "Because, we're all part of the problem, Claude. Humanity will never learn to stop fighting each other at this rate. The poison of the Church and Empire run too deep. The nobles, crests, relics, everything."

(Rhea) "You dare to call us a poison when you yourself take the mantle of a murderer you ignorant brat?! If you read the history of Those Who Slither, then you should know Nemesis was nothing more than a thief!"

(Edelgard) "Professor, I-"

(Byleth) "You still call me that after what you've done? You started all of this!"

(Dimitri) "You speak as if you are above us, yet you fail to realize you are a hypocrite! Condemning Edelgard and Rhea for the very actions you are doing, believing that YOU and you alone are right in what atrocities you have committed!"

(Byleth) "...I will not deny that my actions are unforgivable, but-"

(Rhea) "But NOTHING! YOU WILL DIE TODAY, HERETIC!"

(Byleth) "Then it seems I was a fool for trying to talk to a beast!-"

...

(Percy) "Hey, come on! Get up already!"

"Nnggh...what...?-"

Leonie sat up quickly realizing what had just happened.

(Leonie) "P-Percy? Are you dead too-"

(Percy) "No, you're still alive!"

Leonie's face went from relief to confusion.

(Leonie) "...What?"

(Percy) "...Truth be told, the moment we retook Garreg Mach and I had to kill all those townsfolk...I started to lose faith in our cause."

He helped Leonie up. And took off his mask, and looked at her, eye to eye.

(Percy) "And what we started doing to Randolph, his little sister and all those people? No amount of good we do will wash the blood off our hands from that."

Percy started to look off to Derdriu as the sounds of war filled the air.

(Percy) "I promised my cousin to be a mercenary to help protect families who couldn't protect their own...I guess this is my way of repaying the favor."

He turned back to her.

(Percy) "Get to town via the water, your gear is right next to you."

(Leonie) "You're...not coming with?"

(Percy) "As you said Leonie, I'm too compliant for my own good. I couldn't raise my weapon against Byleth if I could. Half out of respect and half out of fear honestly."

(Leonie) "Percy...You know what he does to-"

(Percy) "He'll kill me, I know. Don't worry about me, alright? Just get to your folks."

Before he put his mask on, he smiled at her.

(Percy) "Thanks for always being so nice to me, Leonie."

Leonie picked up her gear and nodded. A single tear dropped from her eye, but she wiped it away as they parted ways.

If she started now, she wouldn't be able to stop.

Claude and the others needed her now.

(Leonie) "Goodbye, Percy."

(Percy) "...See ya."

...

Shamir and Alois walked towards the other mages firing off artillery.

Two other mages were with them and they stopped before they reached the others.

(Mage 1) "Is there a problem?"

(Alois) "Yes son, there is."

(Shamir) "Two of them."

Alois spun around and punched the mage's stomach, making him drop to the floor.

Shamir roundhouse kicked the mage, making him fly off a small cliff below them, landing in the water.

(Alois) "I'll take care of the archers, get the mages!"

(Shamir) "Already on it."

As Alois charged towards the unsuspecting bodyguards, Shamir pulled out several small ball-like explosives.

(Shamir) "Might as well see if these prototypes work."

The archers were taking aim at the four leaders in the fight below as the mages kept bombarding the city.

(Archer 1) "On my mark!"

Right as he raised his hand, he noticed several spheres rolling under their feet.

(Archer 1) "Huh?-"

An explosion made most of the archers and mages fly off the cliff, or die from the shrapnel and blood loss as their limbs went flying.

Several more explosions went off, cutting off the Nemesis's artillery.

(Judith) "The hell is going on up there?"

(Death Knight) "An opportunity."

(Gilbert) "MEN, ADVANCE!"

...

(Raphael) "There's so many of these guys!"

He clashed two of the knights head together before throwing their bodies beside him.

Lorenz and Lysithea used magic to blast away a squad getting too close to the civilians, as Hilda and Ignatz made sure they were getting to the evacuation boats.

Marianne healed any civilian who couldn't run to the boat.

(Hilda) "At least we're not dealing with the bulk of them!"

(Ignatz) "RAPH, BEHIND YOU!"

Raphael turned around right as a knight was about to take a swing with his sword.

A knife went into the knight's head and he fell over.

(Leonie) "Note to self, thank Shamir for practice."

(Lysithea) "LEONIE!"

(Leonie) "No time to talk, where's Claude?! The Javelin is already on the move!"

(Hilda) "Huh?! But thats too early, we still have 2 days don't we?!"

(Leonie) "The report I gave you was a trick from Byleth, he knew that I'd be giving out the information on it!"

(Lorenz) "Goddess, Nemesis is fighting them!"

Everyone turned around and saw the fighting in the distance.

Claude shot several arrows, with Byleth deflecting each one, dodging Rhea's swings.

Activating the whip, Byleth rolled out the way of Edelgard's axe as it slammed down onto the concrete.

As he swung the whip at Edelgard, Dimitri hit the whip away from her and twirled at him, the lance hitting a part of Byleth's cloth.

Before he could retaliate, Riddhe and several other soldiers warped in front of him, blocking Claude's shot with a magical shield.

(Riddhe) "Sir, our artillery battery and main forces are overrun!"

(Byleth) "What?!"

(Mage 1) "Shamir and Alois have gone rogue, and have already caused catastrophic damage to morale!"

(Byleth) "Damn it, fire the flare, we're withdrawing!"

One of the mages fired a green fireball into the air as they warped away from the fight.

In the distance, they all saw the Knights of Nemesis retreat into portals.

(Rhea) "DAMN IT!"

(Dimitri) "So, this battle is won then..."

(Leonie) "CLAUDE!"

Everyone turned around and saw the Golden Deer students run up to them.

(Claude) "Leonie, thank -"

(Leonie) "Yeah yeah, good to see you too, not now! The Javelin is already on the way to Garreg Mach!"

Everyone's eyes went wide.

(Edelgard) "What?!"

(Claude) "A false report, damn it all! And our forces haven't had anytime to recover yet!"

(Shamir) "If the Javelin gets to Garreg Mach and has proper time to deploy?"

Shamir and Alois stepped around the corner, holding their weapons and hands over their injuries.

(Alois) "Then we're all dead..."

Everyone reconvened near the entrance, Catherine and Seteth's jaws hitting the floor.

(Catherine) "You two!? The hell makes you think you can just waltz back in? Leonie too!"

The three looked down onto the floor.

They couldn't deny what Catherine was saying.

(Dimitri) "Worry about the trials later, we have a much bigger crisis on our hands! EVERYONE, LISTEN WELL!"

Dimitri shouted loud enough for all the soldiers to hear, clearly conveying the situation at hand.

(Edelgard) "We must ride to our armies, and regroup at Gronder Field!"

(Rhea) "How much of the heretics will be present to defend their Javelin?"

(Shamir) "Almost half our forces will be there to defend it now that information has been leaked. The rest are stationed at Garreg Mach awaiting for a fight."

(Claude) "Then let's get moving, people!"

Everyone steeled themselves as they got on horses to alert their armies.

This was going to be the bloodiest battle Fodlan had ever seen since the old days.

-----

The Elites of the Fell Star Journal - “Surprise”

If there’s one thing we weren’t expecting once the news of our doomsday weapon was leaked, was that all four factions would unite under a single banner.

With the false leak that we’d be moving later, we thought we could at least get a bit of a distance from the armies before they could converge.

And for once in our entire campaign, we were the ones getting surprised.

I’ll tell you right now.

I’d trade places with that poor bastard Randolph than partake in the Battle of Gronder again.

-----

[Escape - Darling In The Franxx]

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tlbodine · 5 years

Text

How to Love Revision

A lot of you lovely folks are doing Nanowrimo right now.

Which means that, in a few weeks, you will have a steaming pile of pages. A rough draft. A word-baby, if you will. And you might, at some point, want to turn that messy jumble into a real book, perhaps something to send to a publisher or publish yourself or just share with people.

I see a lot of writing advice about finishing first drafts -- and a whole lot of it is in the vein of “Just write it! Fix it in post! Finished is better than perfect!” which is great advice for pushing through, but does tend to leave future-you -- the editor you-- with problems.

Lucky for you, I happen to love editing (really! it’s my favorite part!) so I am here to give you some advice on how to turn those pages into a proper story without ripping all of your hair out or screaming into the void (but if you need to scream, it’s OK, I won’t judge you.)

First Off: Credit Where It’s Due

My current revision process draws heavily from Holly Lisle’s One-Pass Revision technique: https://hollylisle.com/one-pass-manuscript-revision-from-first-draft-to-last-in-one-cycle/

Her writing guides are golden, and I heartily recommend reading them all, starting with that one up there.

I don’t do one-pass revisions, but her ethos really helped me. Before I found her advice, I would get caught in the endless revise/rewrite cycle. I was going through 9+ drafts of every story and it kept morphing into something new and sprouting new problems, hydra-style, every time I tried to redo it. So nothing was ever finished, nothing was ever satisfying, and I hated it.

So I found a better way! And it freed me! I’ve written six books since then, four of them published (one Wattpad-exclusive) and I learned to look forward to the second draft.

So how does this magic work? Let me show you!

Step One: Put the Damn Thing Away

Editing requires intellectual and emotional distance. So finish your story, and set it aside for a while. Stop thinking about it. Actively put it out of your mind. Work on something else for a while. Read a book. Catch up on all the TV you missed. Whatever. The point is -- you don’t want to come back to revise your story until you can look at it with fresh eyes.

How long this will take depends on you, of course. It’s a very personal thing. It could be weeks. It could be months. For me, a good guideline is to wait until I can no longer quote whole passages from memory.

Now then. Let’s do some triage.

Before you can start editing, you need to know your goals. If you’re a planner, this might be easy because you have an outline you can compare against. If you’re a discovery writer like me, well, this is the time to figure out what exactly it is that you discovered. Grab a notebook (or a notepad file, if you’re a digital native) and follow this process:

Write a one-sentence elevator pitch that roughly encapsulates the concept of the story. It doesn’t have to be pretty -- you’re not showing this to anyone but yourself -- but it does have to be honest. My one-sentence pitch for River of Souls was “Self-aware zombies struggle for equal rights, but the medication they rely on to retain their humanity doesn’t work as advertised.” My pitch for The Hound was “Lesbian thrift shop owners invite the devil into their home after buying a cursed taxidermied dog.”

Write down your theme(s). In the draft, themes might take the form of questions. In this draft, you’ll want some answers. What do you want the reader to feel when they’re done? What is the message you’re trying to tell? When I wrote Nezumi’s Children, I knew it was a story about religion -- “What should we put our faith into?” In the end, I decided the answer was, “We should put our faith in each other.” That dictated the ending. (I also wanted to be careful not to inadvertently support abandoning your pets -- so I couldn’t let the rats be happily feral at the end. A happy ending for them meant being owned and cared for).

Write a 250-word synopsis of the story. Again, it doesn’t have to be pretty. It just has to introduce the characters, the world, and the general shape of the story arc -- the inciting incident, the escalating stakes, and how the character changed at the end.

You may find that you struggle with this part, and that is totally find (and honestly to be expected). You may discover, for example, that your character doesn’t actually change, or that there isn’t a core conflict. That’s okay! That’s what you’re here to fix! I have absolutely, definitely written a book and then discovered 80,000 words later that it didn’t have a plot. It’s OK though, because you’ll fix that problem in the next step.

If you do indeed have a plot and escalating stakes and characters who go through developmental arcs, you’re ahead of the game. Now you’ve got the skeleton of an elevator pitch and the makings of a query letter (or a jacket blurb).

Next: Map Out Everything

When I was in elementary school, I had to start writing my first essays. I was supposed to make an outline, then write the paper to follow the outline. I wasn’t very good at doing it that way, so instead I would write the paper, then hastily draw up the outline to match what I said. Oops. Nothing has changed, honestly.

With your trusty notebook (or blank text document), compile the following:

Write out a list of scenes. Just a couple words describing the events of what happens. Now - are all of those scenes necessary? Are any redundant? Do you need to add foreshadowing or establish something earlier in the story to make sense of it? Are the scenes in the wrong order? Does every scene do some work to advance the plot, deepen the character, flesh out the world? Does the ending resonate with the theme? Re-write the scene list in the correct order, with scenes added or removed as necessary to tell the proper story. Now your scene list is a handy dandy roadmap/outline for your revision!

List out all of the characters in the story. Write down their role in the story. Does every major character have a goal? Do motivations make sense? Does each one change in some way during the story? Are all of your walk-on roles necessary? Are there characters who don’t really do much, and could you combine them?

Fixing plot holes on your scene list is a lot easier than fixing them in the manuscript itself. Keep tweaking your scenes until the story feels like it works. Make sure there’s a logical flow between events -- cause and effect, escalating stakes. Consult structure guides like the Hero’s Journey or the Three-Act Structure if you need some help with your plot.

Here’s a part that’s really important so it’s going in all caps: THE SCENE LIST IS FINAL. Make all the adjustments you need to the plot while you do the scene list, but do not -- DO NOT -- deviate from the story once you move on to the next step. You don’t stop modifying your scene list until you’re happy with the story, and once you’re happy, THAT is the story you’re writing. Get new ideas for things that can happen? Great, save ‘em for the next book.

Now Roll Your Sleeves Up And Get Dirty

Some people like to print their manuscript off and do edits in pen, but I don’t have reliable printer access most of the time and hate wasting paper. So instead, I pull up the rough draft and adjust it so it takes up one half of my monitor. Then I pull up a fresh, empty file and put that on the other half of the screen.

Now, using my scene list as a guide, I pull up the rough draft and rewrite it, scene by scene. Yes, that means re-typing every word. You’ll find that when you do this, you’ll fix a lot of language mistakes without even realizing it. I’m an under-writer, so my drafts usually double in length during this process because I spend more time lingering on sensory details, adding scenes, teasing out character dynamics, etc. etc. etc. Just let yourself go, get immersed into the scene. If you forget what you were doing, just refer back to your outline and original draft to get back on track.

I find this process works best if you can do it quickly. Try not to let the story get cold. Ideally, work on this every single day, or even set aside a long weekend to just hammer it all out.

Finally: Make a Second Pass

Now that you’ve got a second draft under your belt, it’s time to celebrate! Set the book aside. If you have beta readers or an editor, now is the time to send this to them. Hang out for a bit. Figure out who you’re querying, if you’re doing that. Find a kick-ass cover, if you’re self-publishing. Build yourself a Lego mansion. Whatever. Just sit on your draft for a little bit.

Now that a couple weeks have passed, it’s time to make a final pass. Gather all of the feedback you’ve gotten from beta readers and editors and decide what advice you should take and what you can ignore. Here’s a guideline: If someone says something and you think, “oh, yeah! that’s exactly it!” then you take the suggestion. If they say something and you think “uh, well, no, that’s not really the story I was trying to write....” or something similar, you can ignore the feedback. Good feedback will always feel true in the “duh, why didn’t I think of that” way.

Open up your new draft and, starting at page one, just read the damn thing. Make adjustments to the writing as necessary:

Correct any misspellings and typos you come across.

Eliminate weak words and phrases and replace them with stronger ones.

Add some variation to sentence structure if you notice that it’s become repetitive.

Eliminate redundancy. Fix your metaphors. Fix your symbolism. Keep your poetic language on-theme. In The Hound, I replaced a ton of random metaphors with dog imagery. It’s subtle, but it lends thematic cohesion.

Some people use things like Grammarly or Hemmingway App to help with this. I’ve never used them, so I can’t speak to their effectiveness. But if you find that they help, awesome! Use them!

Here’s a really important point: This step can ONLY come AFTER the rewriting stage. There is no point at all in tweaking sentences and fixing up the language in a story that has no plot. Fix your structural issues FIRST, and be sure they are AIR TIGHT, before you start dicking around with the words. Ok? Ok. (Someone go back in time 15 years and tell this to young me please)

And now...you are done!

Spend some time tweaking your elevator pitch and query letter at this point, if necessary. But no matter what, you do not go back into this document and change ANYTHING unless an editor tells you to. The book is DONE. Maybe give it a final proofread before you self-publish it (but honestly, you’re better off hiring someone to do it at that point, you’re going to be too zorched to notice the typos you missed) but otherwise don’t touch it. Don’t think about it. Write the next book.

And that’s it! That’s my mostly painless revision process!

Obviously every person is different, your mileage may vary, etc. But I hope this serves as a helpful jumping off point. I am more than happy to answer any questions or provide clarification on things -- just drop me a line :)

#writing advice #writing tips #editing #writeblr #long post

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jellyfishdooter · 6 years

Photo

LISTEN

I HAVE VERY LOW IMPULSE CONTROL

In spite of the current community fire I give you this Rise of the Guardians AU

Character explanations/ mini story under the cut

So after watching Rise of the Guardians (one of my fav animated movies) I got the idea for an AU where the egos are like the Guardians of the JSE community.

Their designs are based off/ inspired by the characters in the movie but instead of just drawing the egos as those characters, I more so let them inspire re-creations of their outfits/ powers

Chase: Jack Frost- Guardian of Family

In the beginning he doesn’t see himself as a guardian. He’s a screw up, a washout. But even through his depression he tries to make others happy before himself. He does this by having fun and trying to get those in the community to join in with him! It’s later on that he realizes he has a part to play and that his is making sure everyone is still together as one big community. He’s here to remind us that in troubling times that we all have each other- that we’re all family.

JBM: Santa- Guardian of Hope

Being the super hero of the group, it’s JBM’s job to protect the innocent and give off the appearance of being something people can depend upon- someone who can protect everyone from danger. He helps the community become strong and makes them laugh along the way (even if he has to make a fool of himself to do it, he loves our smiles)- he gives them hope.

Marvin: Tooth Fairy- Guardian of Creativity (Sams: small Tooth Fairies)

Much like tooth fairy in the movie, it’s Marvin’s job to collect fanart/ fanworks and store them so when the community forgets all that they have built together, he shows them. Not only that, he inspires the content creators and represents their passion for their art. And it’s what he protects. (Along with the help of the little Sams who are the ones who actually collects and re-distributes it so everyone can see what they’ve made.)

Jameson: Sandman- Guardian of Positivity

Arguably one of the most important guardians of the community, JJ is there to remind people the importance of PMA. In his own quiet ways, he encourages the members to think on the bright side- or is just there to give hugs and be there for them. Whenever someone is in such a dark place, he uses his powers to show them that they still have so much potential and that they’re not alone. He give them a light in a dark place to hold onto. (Yes, he uses sign language AND the sand symbols for those who don’t understand sign)

Schneep: Bunny- Guardian of Health

Being the good doctor of the group, he’s there to remind the community to take care of themselves. Yes he may be a lil aggressive in the way he gives out advice, but for a lot of people they need their butts a little kicks to get them moving to help themselves. But not only physical health, he’s also willing to sit down and talk about mental health and analyze what the problem is/ works to help you understand how to improve yourself.

Anti: The Boogieman- “Guardian” of Fear and Chaos

And last but not least, our dear little firestarter. For so LONG he’s waited, waited to be in the spotlight. Before the other egos show up it was just him and it was delicious. He had so much power as he fed off of our fears, insecurities, and of course the headcanons and theories we made about him. But then Jack HAD to make more egos and fill the community with positivity and light. So he sunk back and waited for his opportunity- he waited for his powers to grow strong in the background. And with all of the hints being dropped and community fueling the fire in a continuous positive feedback loop, he gains more and more strength every day. He reminds the community not everything is peachy and rosy. That there are awful things in the world and how you’re just a tiny ripple in a storming ocean. Insignificant. He doesn’t want to stamp out the community- that would be counterproductive. No he just wants them to feel fear for the channel- that nothing is safe anymore- at any turn he could be there. And with that everything always comes back to him.

And sooner or later, the others will fade away...

Extra Headcanons/ Tidbits:

Before they were all guardians they were other people. (TW: death and suicide mentions) -Anti was a reckless criminal and one night his “friends” betrayed him, leaving him behind which wound up being the end of him. They were running from the police and were trying to jump a tall fence when his comrades left the struggling man behind to take the fall. He did in more ways than one. -JBM was just a regular dude, but he sacrificed himself to save a kid getting hit by a bus in the city. Even though he was about to die he kept asking if the kid was okay. The medics told him he saved them and that’s all he needed to hear. -Marvin was a street magician in his time. He did tricks to cheer up people sitting on the sidewalk/ sitting alone and talked to them about their passions. Later the same people would come back and tell him about the new job they got or the current project they were working on. He pulled a teen off the side of a bridge and a local cop mistook it for him attacking her and.. well.. things escalated quickly -Henrik was an upstanding surgeon. He saved lives every day in his career. Even though his wife and child left him, he worked every day to become a better doctor and continued to save people. And after the surgeries he would personally counsel the patients to make sure they were okay physically and mentally. But one day.. they didn’t have a matching organ for the patient on standby.. and he knew he matched the credentials. -Jameson was a small movie star in his time. And when he wasn’t filming he went down in quiet to lift the spirits of homeless children and teens. He would put on small performances and then go around to each of them and comfort them if they said it was okay. He made sure by the end of his visit they were all in high spirit. But one day the filming studio caught fire. The smoke damaged his lungs so he couldn’t call out before the building collapsed. -And Chase... He had a loving wife and two kids who he cared for with his life. He vowed to himself to protect them, even though his wife turned into a bitch as the years went on. One night they were walking home from a day at the amusement park and Chase got jumped with his kids nearby. The criminal threatened to kill the kids if Chase didn’t comply. So to protect them, he did as the criminal said, handing over his wallet and watch and phone. And when the criminal was about to kill one of them anyway, instinct took over and Chase knocked the man down and knocked him out- but when he fell the gun went off

The lights on the globe are the septiclights, each one representing a person in the community

Instead of holidays, the guardians help in the background of charity livestreams and videos to give them that little extra spark.

Sean is the equivalent of the Man in the Moon

The extra fan-made egos (like Robbie, Shawn, Angus, and Bing) are still around, they just aren’t the big guardians.

If they were tho... Robbie- Guardian of Innocence, Shawn- Guardian of Voice, Angus- Guardian of... idk, Protection? Or maybe head cannons lol, Bing- Guardian of Online Connections

When too much of the community becomes afraid/ depressed, the guardian’s form changes (like in the movie) before they disappear -JBM: Becomes weaker, probably needs his glasses to see again, basically turned into a comicbook nerd -Marvin: Loses a lot of his color, magic goes away, turns into a cat? -Henrik: Hands continuously shake, gains a stutter so people can hardly understand him, becomes super paranoid/ closed off -JJ: His colors fade to black and white, it’s really hard to summon his powers, always about to cry/ wants to scream -Chase: Goes into a low state of depression, isolates himself a lot -Anti: His bravado diminishes- basically turns into an edgy teen with spasms instead of actual glitches, wound on his neck closes.

Like in the movie there’s a point where Anti takes over (like right now) and everyone’s powers start to fade

To make this angsty(er) he manages to kill JJ and he disappears, along with the light of positivity in the community.

Chase blames himself for not being fast enough to save him

To turn thing around Henrik suggests a charity livestream to promote a mental health organization. So they all work together to prep

A young community member somehow gets into Henrik’s realm

Memes and shenanigans ensue

“We spend all our time trying to protect the community, we don’t HAVE TIME-... for the community..?”

Chase runs off after young familiar voices calling out for their daddy

Chase ends up in Anti’s realm of fear(the opening is in the woods under an abandoned computer desk). It’s a series of twisted hallways bathed in red light and entire walls of glitching computer screens that cast weird shadows

When Chase gets out he realizes all the equipment is destroyed and he wasn’t there to help

Henrik blames Chase and sad dad runs off.

The community is plunged into a state of fire and fear and there’s no positivity anywhere to be found.

Except one last light...

A fan is talking to a Sam plushie, saying that yeah they understand why the stream COULD have been cancelled.. but everything in their life is just so dark they were really looking forward to it.

Chase finds them and uses his powers to make images of septic lights and funny moments in Jack’s videos

They realize it’s Chase who’s doing it and can see him

All the egos fight Anti with the help of a few community members beside them- giving them power to fight back.

The members bring back JJ

JJ kicks the ever living shit out of Anti with the help of the others beside him Okay I think I’ll stop here XD If you read all this... wowie!

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