#writing this was both fun and agonizing because on the one hand

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Hiii! Could you write a one shot with both Caracalla and Geta? The idea is that the reader is their favorite concubine (or legit their wife idk if that's how it works lmfaooo) but she's a witch? Like she's an oracle or something, they keep her around because she brings them luck and what not (they also kinda love her but they're both insane so...)

No worries if you don't want to write this!

The oracle of the emperors

Geta/Caracalla x witch!reader

warning : hurt/comfort, power inequality, kissing, mention of smut (light smutish), family issues

Summary : In times of war, one had to resort to everything, be it rationing, ambushes, burning or fetching the walking omniscient shadow from the alleys of Rome. An oracle surrounded the two emperors and was so much more to them than just a surrogate for the gods.

info : I love the idea, almost an au in Gladiator (maybe more someday) thanks for the request and have fun reading :)

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rome was a world city, an empire for decades no for centuries, it would outlast all time. Everything would fall to make way for the glorious holy roman empire and no one would stop it, no country, no army, you just had to keep conquering and conquering.

An idea, a thought, a dream that had burned itself into the minds of the two emperors - they wanted more, had to and needed more. The reign of Geta and Caracalla was to be glorious, but the body cannot bear what the mind dreams of, especially not when its own warlord threatens to withdraw.

You can't keep a man from dying for a lifetime without risking his downfall, a fact that the two also saw...but if the fighting force failed, what could be done to win more easily and quickly?

Gods, oracles and witches, the supernatural, that which could see more than only man could see.

Since the conquests, the oracles had only predicted victories, but why did more and more bases go under, why did the harvests come to an end and why did the emperor's gold seem to dwindle?

Wrong answers were punished with death and the temples remained mostly empty, the only thing that was known to help was the shadow of Rome, the woman who was found before she was even looked for.

Her figure emerged from the streets wrapped in the dark fabric, the rustling of the small bones in her pouch accompanying her as the people looked at her in awe, as much as she was feared she was revered, ,,The sound of water will bring you a poet, just as these bones of death brought me to you...my honorable emperors” she greeted them as she came up the stairs to the palace and saw the golden gods in human form.

Of one she had dreamed his gold would cover the Senate like blood that would not stop flowing and the other she had seen an agonizing spirit that would perish along with all of Rome.

,,You will be placed in our service, no harm shall come to you as long as your words are of use to us,” Geta assured her as he showed her a bedchamber larger than anything she had ever had and still needed some work, for as much as she saw and heard them all, she knew how to interpret the looks in their eyes.

And the looks of the brothers were full of desire.

After a very short time she was surrounded only by the two of them, hardly any other servants or concubines, the campaign was victorious as she had predicted, but her warning also came true.

It only took a full moon for the “poet” to arrive inside the palace and she saw the amused look on Caracalla's face as he grabbed her hand, ,,You predicted it!” he said, and his brother looked at her, a look she took as respect.

When they were with the brothers during the day, she was with Geta, his hand at her side, the human god who wanted to be closer to Olympus through her, ,,You belong to me, here, in the Senate and out there,” he reminded her whenever they took up political matters.

Dark eyes with make-up looked at her whenever she moved the figures on the map, whenever she whispered her proposal to him in the senate and when he drew her to his bedchamber.

Why should she say no? Even a fool would have slept with the most powerful man whose voice was almost as intoxicating as his body, his kiss intense he wanted this power she had, his gold soon adorning her too, gifts in the hope that she would stay with him, touches of lust, he desired her power and beauty until the day she asked the question.

The fire turned bluish and she heard the cry of a monkey asking him, ,,You speak of belonging but this mine, is it none of your brother the Emperor Caracalla's concern?" a question that drove him from her, his face became incredulous and she saw the disbelief in his eyes.

He felt betrayed.

A betrayal she thought he would spear away, but her last prediction that this mine would mean his end must have frightened him, frightened and almost more God-given.

The gifts of gem and gold he made sure she wore, as much as he tried to hold it back she belonged to one god and not two at the same time.

Geta would spend hours in the temples, making people feel at ease and being addressed as a god. it was during these days and weeks that the monkey Dundus would often run up to her and she would see the uncertain look on Caracalla's face.

As much as he was fascinated, he was also afraid of her, ,,Witches are a bad omen...but you helped us,” the younger one said as he ventured into her room and watched, curious about what she was doing there.

Instead of luring him with physical devotion like his brother, she put a motherly smile on her lips, ,,Look even I can make fruit dance” she lured him and he sat down on her chair while she instructed him to close his eyes, she mixed a few simple tinctures and dripped them on the grapes.

A simple reaction of plants, but for Caracalla, who clapped his hands in delight, it was worth almost as much as the whole of Rome, ,,You see, I can't be angry at all, my sweet king,” she murmured to him and hugged him carefully, an embrace he wanted more and more from then on. during the day she belonged to Geta, who soon ignored her warning.

Why listen to a witch when he was a god? The jewelry covered her body, his love visible on her body and at night she took care of the younger one, so much pain and suffering as she held him like a child who would soon take advantage of her when his madness took over, ,,His gold, his jewelry but you're mine, aren't you? I need you alone, not shared,” he ordered, fingers clutching hers helplessly.

A question she answered with a kiss and the game between the two emperors continued to grow daily. The bones in her bowl became more and more when she made new predictions and she went from a god to a delusional one whenever one of them needed her.

Gold and make-up adorned her body and whenever Geta and Caracalla met it seemed as if Rome was on the verge of collapse.

In the midst of this they stood, the most influential authority taking on the two emperors while Rome changed around them, brothers not seeing that the shadow had closed in around them when the first thought had fallen upon them.

She felt at home in the madness of the two and the threads that held everything together, because no one could separate such a love. Yet to everyone else outside the palace she was nothing more than the concubine of the brothers Emperor Geta and Caracalla.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[skyward-floored]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/41040336/chapters/118216489#main

Summary:

The light flashes and Link closes his eyes against it, and when he feels it safe to look again the Princess of Hyrule is gone.

And then his breath catches in his throat, because Midna floats back to the floor but she’s not the Midna he knows.

~~~

When Midna lays near death due to being exposed to Lanayru’s light, Princess Zelda does more then just heal her when she passes on her spirit.

She removes Zant’s curse and restores her true form.

...

HEY REMEMBER MY MIDLINK FIC AHAHA chapter five is finally finished <3

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Terry Pratchett about fantasy ❤

Terry Pratchett interview in The Onion, 1995 (x)

O: You’re quite a writer. You’ve a gift for language, you’re a deft hand at plotting, and your books seem to have an enormous amount of attention to detail put into them. You’re so good you could write anything. Why write fantasy?

Terry: I had a decent lunch, and I’m feeling quite amiable. That’s why you’re still alive. I think you’d have to explain to me why you’ve asked that question.

O: It’s a rather ghettoized genre.

Terry: This is true. I cannot speak for the US, where I merely sort of sell okay. But in the UK I think every book— I think I’ve done twenty in the series— since the fourth book, every one has been one the top ten national bestsellers, either as hardcover or paperback, and quite often as both. Twelve or thirteen have been number one. I’ve done six juveniles, all of those have nevertheless crossed over to the adult bestseller list. On one occasion I had the adult best seller, the paperback best-seller in a different title, and a third book on the juvenile bestseller list. Now tell me again that this is a ghettoized genre.

O: It’s certainly regarded as less than serious fiction.

Terry: (Sighs) Without a shadow of a doubt, the first fiction ever recounted was fantasy. Guys sitting around the campfire— Was it you who wrote the review? I thought I recognized it— Guys sitting around the campfire telling each other stories about the gods who made lightning, and stuff like that. They did not tell one another literary stories. They did not complain about difficulties of male menopause while being a junior lecturer on some midwestern college campus.

Fantasy is without a shadow of a doubt the ur-literature, the spring from which all other literature has flown. Up to a few hundred years ago no one would have disagreed with this, because most stories were, in some sense, fantasy. Back in the middle ages, people wouldn’t have thought twice about bringing in Death as a character who would have a role to play in the story. Echoes of this can be seen in Pilgrim’s Progress, for example, which hark back to a much earlier type of storytelling. The epic of Gilgamesh is one of the earliest works of literature, and by the standard we would apply now— a big muscular guys with swords and certain godlike connections— That’s fantasy. The national literature of Finland, the Kalevala. Beowulf in England. I cannot pronounce Bahaghvad-Gita but the Indian one, you know what I mean. The national literature, the one that underpins everything else, is by the standards that we apply now, a work of fantasy.

Now I don’t know what you’d consider the national literature of America, but if the words Moby Dick are inching their way towards this conversation, whatever else it was, it was also a work of fantasy. Fantasy is kind of a plasma in which other things can be carried. I don’t think this is a ghetto. This is, fantasy is, almost a sea in which other genres swim. Now it may be that there has developed in the last couple of hundred years a subset of fantasy which merely uses a different icongraphy, and that is, if you like, the serious literature, the Booker Prize contender. Fantasy can be serious literature. Fantasy has often been serious literature. You have to fairly dense to think that Gulliver’s Travels is only a story about a guy having a real fun time among big people and little people and horses and stuff like that. What the book was about was something else. Fantasy can carry quite a serious burden, and so can humor. So what you’re saying is, strip away the trolls and the dwarves and things and put everyone into modern dress, get them to agonize a bit, mention Virginia Woolf a few times, and there! Hey! I’ve got a serious novel. But you don’t actually have to do that.

(Pauses) That was a bloody good answer, though I say it myself.

[worldunbent]

chapter notes - matoba seiji

a compilation of all of midorikawa's chapter notes concerning matoba (as of volume 29)

all are from the official viz releases, translated by lillian olsen.

Chapters 23 - 26 - Inhuman Thing I didn't have a chance to write a story about Matoba until now due to page constraints or manga cycling issues in the magazine. I had fun when I finally got around to it. Matoba's appearance means Natori's hardships become more obvious. Natori settled upon his current philosophy after a lot of reflection. But then he sees Natsume wrestling with the same choices and slogging through the same place he used to be, and it's both amusing and frustrating at the same time for him. Natsume might realize this and not be able to presume so much on his kindness. Natsume and Natori are left with a problem, so l hope to take my time drawing them dealing with it.

Volume 9 (General afterword) I enjoyed drawing a bit about Matoba. He has several titles. He’s the organizer of the assembly of exorcists, so he’s called “Chairman” during the meetings. He’s the young head of the family from a regular human perspective, and known as the leader of his clan to yokai. Natsume has been more relaxed lately, so it’s very fun to draw something tense like this once in a while. I’d like to write thoroughly about exorcists some time when I have the opportunity. Seeing Matoba and Natori side by side here, they’re clearly eccentrics. I’m relieved that Natsume seems normal by comparison.

Chapters 52 - 54 - Behind the Chains Natsume is now able to face a variety of things. But I also feel that the distance between him and Natori grows each time they encounter one another. They see the same things and hope for the same outcome, but because their paths are a little different, it's hard for them to take action when they're together. It's a strange feeling. I'm sure Natori wants to remain Natsume's ally, and Natsume wants the same with Natori. I'm happy I got to draw more about Matoba, too. Whereas Natori tries to do what's right and is afraid of making a mistake, I think Matoba is the kind of person who doesn't fear making mistakes.

Chapter 77 - The Two Rings This was another story I had always wanted to do, but the timing never worked out, so I was very happy to get to it now. When I'm drawing Natsume, I always agonize over his dialogue and pick his words carefully. But when I'm drawing the Matoba clan, I don't have to think about the impression they're making, and I just use words that pop up in my head. Mr. Natori is somewhere in between. It's always a bit refreshing to draw the exorcists. I hope people form their opinions of Mr. Matoba based on what's on the page. In good ways and bad, he's a character who lies but is also uninhibited.

Special Episode 17 - A Hand Extended They let me do another episode of Natori as a high school student. There was another anecdote I wanted to include, but it wouldn't fit, no matter how hard I tried to rearrange things. Still, I'm happy I could depict more of Natori and Matoba's relationship. Sometimes you can't come to an understanding with a person, but once you become aware of your own feelings, you can often begin to be more objective. Then you start to see aspects of the person that change your mind, which is natural. But unlike Natsume, Natori can be stubborn and won't allow his feelings to change. It was interesting to see how Natori would feel about the aloof and unwavering Matoba.

Special Episode 19 - An Abandoned Station in the Rain With 16 pages, the plot could have felt too similar to other Special Episodes, so I decided to do a simple story just about running into someone unexpected. It was fun showing Matoba being himself. Mr. Matoba knows yokai who live in a slightly different world from the one Natsume knows, and Nyanko Sensei knows both worlds. I'd like to do more stories about the two of them.

Chapters 92 - 94 - The House of Promises I have a memory of some boys climbing the gate of the town hall to pick some loquats at the end of spring and getting scolded. I made it seem like spring when the chapter appeared in the magazine, but then I heard that loquats ripen in early summer, so my older sister helped me race to redraw the clothing into something more summery before the graphic novel release. I enjoyed drawing the exorcists. Mr. Natori just can't catch a break and Mr. Matoba has many things going for him, but he often gets shut out. They don't really get along, and they're skeptical of each other even when real empathy is extended. Natsume is always at least trying to listen, so conversations are easier with him present. No matter what, Mr. Natori is older, and Mr. Matoba is younger. End of story. When I include the exorcists, there are all these dilemmas and convolutions that make things complicated and fun to draw. It feels fresh to me. I get nostalgic for the first time Natsume and Mr. Natori met when they're together. Their bond is getting deeper, but it was easier before for Mr. Natori to casually invite Natsume on outings. When you know someone a long time, there are more things to say, but sometimes, just as many things remain unsaid.

Chapters 103 - 104 - Where Vessels Lie in Slumber* I was so happy to work on a longer story for once. My head starts filling up with what to do next while I'm still working on the current episode. when I'm in one-shot mode. But being able to linger on a story arc reminded me of the excitement I felt back when I first wanted to be a manga artist. I still have a lot of storylines I'd prefer not to cut short, so I hope I get more opportunities like this. I've wanted to do this particular story for a long time, but. I feel like it could only be done now because of how Natsume's currently feeling. I hope you can pick up on how Natori and Matoba's relationship changes subtly depending on the situation, and that you get a feel for their solidarity as exorcist peers. It was so fun drawing everything I wanted to include: Natsume's faith in his friends; Natori's belief that he can still offer help even as an exorcist; Matoba, who's sometimes prevented from action because he knows and sees too much; Tanuma, who's surely able to help, but is unable to accompany Natsume; the cats protecting their secret; Nyanko Sensei. And of course there were even more things I wanted to expand on, so I'll take my time working them out.

*The first three chapters of this arc are in the previous volume and there's not enough in the other note for me to include.

[bryscorner]

i have decided to join the FallFest ! <3

apple picking with jacaerys velaryon— twilight by bôa and leaf pile jumping. did i do this correctly? sending kisses & hugs your way ! ♡

Join FallFest !

Pookie I hope this suffices ! Sorry it took me this long to get to your request, with your song choice it was hard for me to correlate the right vibe ! This honestly isn’t my best writing but regardless I hope you like it nonetheless !

it’s been nothing but a gloomy, boring and soggy wet day. it would’ve been perfect conditions to read at home, snuggled up in your bed or baking some fall treats and watch a movie, but alas…it just had to rain making the leaves all mucky and not as vibrant and crunchy to leaf pile jump into.

the smell of the rain couldn’t get you out of this dire need for some leaves, jace could tell by the way you were looking out towards the foggy and moist skies out the window during one of your mutual classes the both of you shared.

it was agonizing to see the glum face of yours, really. jace tried his best, but he couldn’t understand how a measly pile of leaves could be this much of a downer for you. he asked you during lunch why this was the case, just trying to be on the same page as you, but he couldn’t comprehend, but he also couldn’t just let you mope around like a lost puppy!

after the most tantalizing slow and mundane day of classes jace can tell that on the walk back to your house, it was quite, maybe too quite it seemed. he didn’t want to break the silence if you weren’t in the mood to talk after what happened during lunch, but he couldn’t just stand there!

he found a semi-soggy pile of leaves up the road under a tree, granted you guys were walking next to a park, noting that there wasn’t a ton of people out and about on this rainy afternoon. without as much as uttering a word he stopped you in your tracks, gesturing to hold your hand and dragging you a bit deeper into the park to where the semi-soggy pile of leaves lay.

standing in front of the pile, you two stood there–still holding hands, but from afar it looked like you two were at a sad…funeral…for a pile of leaves. very cliche for the perfect scene in a movie might one add.

‘jace what are we doing here? i said im not in the mood anymore..’

rubbing circles into your hand, he motions his head to look at you, giving a solemn smile and lightly shook your intertwined hands,

‘i know, but I can’t stand you being so withered and down just because the rain stopped you from doing something fun! just thought you might’ve changed your mind by then is all’

looking back at the pile…it wasn’t too drenched…it still had the potential to be crunchy and maybe even cushioned the fall if you were careful enough…

‘but what if i get my clothes all wet if the bottom of the pile is wet?’ looking at jace, he seemed to have that look like he didn’t care.

‘that’s okay, here you can use my rain coat if you get too wet, plus we aren’t far from your house anyways to my understanding! so you won’t have to sit in your soiled clothes for too long’ his eyes gave a hopeful response, glistening with the notion of determination.

jace took off his backpack and handed it to you to hold as he was unzipping his raincoat and handing it to you to take. noticing the smell of rain and his signature cologne that seemed to stick to every piece of clothing he owns.

of course he would offer his coat to you, i mean how more gentleman can he get? before you could even rebuttal, he already took your bag away from you and threw his coat over your shoulders, putting on the hood that was too big for you. he thought you looked very cute with his clothes.

gesturing you to finally have some fun, he found a park bench that wasn’t drenched by the rain and sat there, watching the bags with the upmost care and made sure he had a good view of you messing around.

you stood there still a little unsure, stomping on the pile of leaves that still looked the same as when you first got there.

‘well what are you waiting for! we don’t got all day babe! the rain will be coming back soon!’ jace said as he threw you a thumbs up, ensuring you that it was okay.

You zipped up the coat, before falling backwards into the pile–not so bad! plus the leaves had that bit of sound of crunch that you were desperate for.

popping your head back up, you see jace adorn that ever so knowingly smile. relaxing a bit more into the bench, watching you. you gave him a thumbs up as to say that this was a good pile,

standing back up, you fix the pile again to your desired size and shape before you started to fast walk back to the leaves and pretended to shoulder slam the pile like it was a person–the leaves dispersing into the ground again.

jace noticed the smile on your face as you successfully made another attempt to dive into the leaves, making sure it wasn’t too wet yet. smiling to himself, he was glad that you were in a better mood now, even if the rain had soiled your plans of hopes of a much more crispier pile.

he took out his phone to take pictures of you whilst you were occupied, making sure to capture the perfect moments of you being your most happiest, knowing for sure that he can look back on the fact that you finally were able to go leaf pile jumping like you had initially planned.

[clementine-kesh]

if i had the time i’d write a b7 fic where tom and b’elanna break up but b’elanna still has a romantic getaway booked so janeway suggests she take seven in tom’s place and turn it into a fun gals trip because they’ve both been working so hard and seven could stand to learn what a vacation is. at first b’elanna balks at the idea and tries to get harry to go with her instead but harry’s like “sorry tom’s booked us in for a weeklong captain proton marathon and i’m worried if i don’t commit he’s gonna do it this time for real :/“ so she ends up taking seven after all but isn’t particularly happy about it. then she and seven go through the whole agonizing process of learning to be vulnerable and love the parts of themselves they see reflected in each other but it’s all framed through cheesy resort activities like paddleboarding and couples yoga. it's like if jimmy buffett wrote a song about the mortifying ordeal of being known. they’re having deep revelations while chilling in a hot tub with margaritas in hand. their first kiss happens after dueting breaking free from hit movie high school musical at karaoke night. it’s an emotionally intense exploration of both characters and their relationship to one another where they’re wearing graphic tees that announce to the whole world that it’s five o’clock somewhere

[klausinamarink]

saw a post from @flowercrowngods asking about steddie going through chronic pain and i thought to give it an attempt. Just a quick disclaimer though I do not personally have chronic pain but I did my best to write it respectively!

Edit: now with part 2!

— —

Eddie should get out of bed.

He’s all too aware of how much of the day he’s wasting and losing by lying down, but his leg is in pain again. And not in a “my leg is full of TV static and I can’t move it for a minute” way. His leg was in the state of fine until I moved to get up and now it feels like the bones are dissolving and my skin is having that falling apart sensation and it’s making this a problem for the rest of my body, which is becoming frustratingly common these days.

It’s totally unfair because he was supposed to start the Hellfire oneshot he had kept promising this afternoon. Eddie had been feeling fine the past three days aside from the usual leg static and itchiness from his scars. He had been getting more good days! He should be outside and interacting with his friends again! 

But that wasn’t going to happen. Not with the agony making its slow travel to his back and the left side of his face now twitching, which created a headache.

“Jesusssss.” Eddie groans aloud. He tries to move further into his pillow, but now the pain is rushing to his torso and pressing against it. Another agonizing spike in his right ear right down to the eardrum. Again, the pain zigzagged to his left foot and his right hand. 

He stayed in bed. He might have wept but Eddie had always been good at crying quietly. He knew he can’t call for Wayne because he was at work and his arms now hurt to even pick up the bedside phone. 

The pain went to the back of his neck, reopening his scars and cracking his ribcage. Maybe not literally, but at this point, he wouldn’t be surprised.

He soon falls asleep at some point, considering there’s really nothing else to do. Then he’s slowly brought back to consciousness by a soft humming and careful fingers brushing through his hair.

“Steve?” He croaks out, opening an eye carefully to see his boyfriend (oh sweet heavens he actually has a boyfriend!!) right next to him on the bedside. Steve smiles  softly at him.

“Hey, Eds, another day?” 

Eddie gives the tiniest of nods, swallowing down a wince from the bare movement. 

“Is it your leg, your hand, or all over?”

“All over. My fucking body hates me.” 

Steve gently tugs one of his locks. “You mean our bodies hates us.”

“Get out of here.”

“No way. I can’t be a shitty boyfriend if I’m leaving you to die alone.” Steve moves to stand up but pauses. “Do you want the towel treatment or-“ 

“Please.” Eddie nearly chokes out.

“Alright, be right back.” 

A few minutes later, Steve is back at his side, carefully and deliberately wiping Eddie’s face with a soaked towel. It’s a weird and probably nefficient method, but Eddie had found that in these days where his body is torturing himself, he needed some sort of coolness for his skin. He couldn’t take off his clothes but the damp towel on his face and hands was enough to ease it.

Steve, on the other hand, couldn’t stand the Wet Towel even if his muscles ached and his arms burned. Mostly, Eddie would lay on top of him and his body weight would provide Steve much needed ease.

Maybe their own coping methods for the flare ups were weird by medical standards, but they’re both still alive.

Mostly.

“I was supposed to start Hellfire today.” Eddie mutters as Steve brings the towel to his right hand. “An oneshot. Short and fun.”

“I know.” Steve says kindly, “the kids felt that you weren’t coming so Dustin radioed me to check on you.”

“Sweet of him.”

“Yeah, everyone is.” 

“Not as sweet as you, big boy.” Eddie sticks his tongue out playfully. 

Steve smirks, pressing the towel back on Eddie’s forehead. “How’s it now?”

“Not as horrible, but I can’t trust myself to move.” The pain is traveling less but now his ears are thumping weirdly and his leg is practically vanishing with the other parts of his body, numb and barely unaffected. 

“That’s okay, Eds, I’m still here.” Steve gives him a light peck on his cheek where there’s another demobat scar, but smaller than the one overtaking his left side. “I’ll finish soon, but I’m not leaving anytime soon.” 

He says it with a soft squeeze on Eddie’s hand. He smiles back and closes his eyes, relishing on the dampness on his bare scarred skin, trying to ignore the rest of the pain that’s forever settling underneath and deeper. 

[leakyweep]

Doflamingo x Reader - Nightmares

A/N: writing fluffy Doffy is difficult, but man, it is fun. @anon-germany enjoy bb :)

Warnings: just some suggestive content and maybe a small warning for nightmares/past regrets i guess

Words; 0.7k

The absence of your presence in your shared bed bothered Doflamingo, and he had a gut feeling he wouldn't have the best night's sleep with you gone. You had to stay late for work at the bar you were employed, leaving Doffy to a cold, empty bed to fall asleep in.

He had woken in the dead of night by a nightmare, his body shooting upwards anxiously and his heart beating from his chest. He was clutching his sternum, his nails digging into the flesh harshly. Red marks were left in his wake, his breaths coming out in hot, rushed pants.

He was in his head that whole day prior; thinking of his past, his family... and though many days he hid this pain and suffering deep inside that evil body, he was still haunted by his past decisions, making him wonder if they were what should have happened.

But it did happen. And he knew that there was no going back, forcing him to be the emotionless and menacing king that everyone was accustomed to. Even you had seldom seen this side of him; only once before had you seen the man agonize over his past. The next day, he'd acted as if nothing had been said, so you kept it that way. His temper was short, after all. The last thing you wanted to do was unnecessarily make the man insecure.

He shifted his body so his legs were swung over the side of the bed, his feet cushioned by the plush carpet beneath him. He looked around the room, pupils darting to the things he could make out in the dark to try and steady himself. Then, the door opened with a creak, his body tensing. He didn't wish for you to see him so vulnerable and weak, so he opted for a tight smile.

"My darling, I-"

"You don't have to talk about it, love, but I'd like for you to at least not try to act like you're okay. That smile is atrocious." You smiled softly, approaching his large figure and placing your hands on his knees. "You aren't weak for having feelings."

He just dropped his head, a scowl etched into his features. He knew you weren't a fool and cursed you silently for having the sense to know exactly what he was thinking. "Nightmare," was all he grumbled, keeping his gaze to your feet standing between his.

His teeth were gritted as he wrapped his arms around you, burying his head into your chest. He wasn't good with words, so he opted for an action you both knew he needed. He wasn't a soft person, not even a kind one for that matter, so this whole situation was foreign to him.

"I'm here now, and I'm about to take a shower. Would you care to join to maybe... get your mind off?" you smirked, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively. He chuckled gently into the soft cotton of your shirt, lifting his head to rest his chin on you.

"You know I would never say no to that..." he husked, his hands that were wrapped around your sides engulfing your asscheeks and giving them a squeeze. You laughed and leaned down to press a kiss to the man's cracked lips.

As you began to get the shower ready, he approached you from behind, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead.

"You know," he started, his fingers tracing down your curves as you were only in your undergarments, "I don't have nightmares when you're there." His tongue ran down your jugular, making a shiver run down your spine.

"Maybe because we do something else instead of sleeping..." You laughed sweetly, your hands resting on his as they engulfed your waist. He grinned and began to pull your panties down.

"I know you aren't complaining," he rasped into your ear. He would never admit it, but your presence is why he wasn't addled with bad dreams at night, not your body.

He loved your intimate moments together, but he would never forget the nights he would wake up startled and hold you until all his thoughts and senses were consumed by you. He loved to smell your hair, trace the outlines and contours of your body while you slept, unknowingly keeping the menacing and malevolent man in a state of rare peace.

“I’m definitely not complaining,” you replied, stepping into the shower, hand in hand with your love. “now come on, we have some distracting to do.”

[corpsentry]

i have derailed myself. down terrible for shaoshang xinghancanlan lltg and speedrunning both parts as fast as possible with my mother. we um. binged 30 episodes in the last five days………….. me when the hetero period drama is treated not like a trashy ya novel where everyone has big eyes small face (listening to ���河漫漫盼归期 on the bus to jb like a weirdo) it is hard to put into words the sheer kind of resignation i have approached the xianxia/wuxia/general chinese period drama genre with for the past few years as after cql and woh we watched love between fairy and devil and til the end of the moon and who rules the world and dawg that shit made me Cry…. after much thought i have come to the realization that i have a personal vendetta against stories that only progress because there are 1) evil characters and 2) stupid characters i.e. there is blinding frustrating cheek gnawing cruelty askance but that shit just keeps looping because the protagonists are sooooo nice — that is to say, STUPID AS BALLS— and don’t assert themselves. xinghancanlan (and the drama we finished just before, xihuazhi (blossoms into adversity (dogshit english localized titles, i sob)) is so incredibly fucking refreshing on a basic storytelling level because it doesn’t linger. no misery porn (see: love between fairy and devil, til the end of the moon), no dragging out the jealous cousin who keeps torturing the protag and co, instead the plot! just! keeps! moving! it’s got places to go! and it motherfucking goes to them. god i want to eat til the end of the moon’s flashbacks alive anyway (separate story, very long) xinghancanlan also does so many levels of character storytelling and it does it like HELL the amount of care given to each parent child relationship in particular lord i haven’t seen a parent child relationship written with such nuance and care in a long time, if ever, as the one between shaoshang and her mom there is no villain!!! everything is terrible!!!! art imitates reality. and then you get her and her dad, ling buyi and the whole situation going on over there, the emperor, even wang ling’s family— these are not archetypes. they’re people. and that’s so nice. that the homies over there produced a show that lingers not on the agonizing nail ripping sobfests but on how hard it is to be a person

and then there is the fact of the production itself. not to fist my own ass or pat this one’s but this show approaches scene writing and transitions the way i approach my own writing and i have never seen that in any tv series let alone a chinese period drama where girl meets guy and it goes so FUCKIN HARD. i give example. character A and B gossip about character C for a brief period. “C is such a whiny bitch,” B says (this is a close-up shot). cut immediately to a close-up shot of C whining to D, and then one of D replying. just like that we have transitioned between place, time, and characters with this kind of fun witty filmography and writing that makes it feel like this scene is a continuation of the last due to the same style of face to face interrogation. but we are in an entirely different place

or, abruptly there is a scene of violence and brutality yet unseen in the show. it fades to black, and character H shudders awake at her desk. “i just had a terrible dream,” she says. but the scene after that is a continuation of the violence and brutality of earlier and we come to realize that this is very much a real moment in the story. the audience has been played by an inverse ‘it was just a dream’. it was not just a dream. even though it was shocking and gruesome. the story is moving to new places now

and more generally, the score reminds me so strongly of beijing opera with the way the music describes and foreshadows minute gestures; shifting eyes, a tic in the left hand, the slightest drop of one’s shoulders. there are new and interesting, relevant, thought provoking transitions in each scene. the framing of shots emphasizes specific character emotions and mental scapes. and shanjian is an emotionally repressed loser. it’s just so. so. (howling for 85 years). fucking dazzling to see a piece of art that has clearly been made with such care, my guys. and also is fun to watch. and is obviously having fun itself. i am reminded of the ways in which art can save people’s hearts as this saves mine. and shaoshang makes me want to cry, is such a hot mess and not at all one, gives so few shits and altogether too many, is just learning how to hold the love that others give her without trying to call it something else-/ she is so tender. i’m throw myself off a cliff right now. all day i have been wandering around jb muttering to myself about the beautiful and good things in the world. it can change your life to see someone smile even if it is fictional character cheng shaoshang from xinghancanlan. cannot stop thinking about this damn show. thank u for listening

[blossomwritesthings]

Hear me out hear me OUT— hyunjin with a stomach bug while on a train to visit his parents for the first time with y/n and brushing it off as motion sickness but realizes that it’s not when it gets worse when they arrive home and can barely keep anything down and runs a fever🤔

- hi I’m new here can I be “🦊” anon?

𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥

pairing: hyunjin x fem!reader (afab)

genre: sick!fic. idol!hyunjin. hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. reader pov. established relationship.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. mild thematic elements. hyunjin is sick with a stomach bug (that is first thought to be motion sickness). reader and his mother help nurse him back to health. :)) mentions of hyunjin overworking himself w/schedules. angst is in this. fluff is sprinkled throughout. pet names (affectionately).

word count: 2.8k

summary: your first visit back to the small countryside village that your boyfriend hyunjin grew up in suddenly takes a turn for the worse when he starts feeling sick to his stomach. and you're the first person he turns to for comfort.

a/n: wahhhh i'm finally posting this lmao 😭 sorry for the late reply anon, life has been dealing me with a heavy, shitty hand atm sshshshks 💀 anyways, i hope you enjoy this... it was fun to write smth with soft jinnie~ 🥹 also, yes- you can be 🦊 anon, thanks for requesting! 💕

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). © ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

The trip started as any other normal one. It was the first time the two of you were visiting your boyfriend, Hyunjin’s, parents, who lived in a small house in a quaint countryside village. He had taken off the entire weekend from work so that you guys could spend an ample amount of time exploring his hometown. The train that Hyunjin had booked for the two of you was nice enough - with amazing window seats that had a great viewpoint of the passing nature. 

 With his parents living quite far away from Seoul, the trip was well over four hours. 

 And not even thirty minutes into the ride, Hyunjin started to feel shitty. 

 Like every time before - the curse of trip sickness continued to follow you guys. Because it seemed like on every trip that you took together, either one of you - or, worse, sometimes both of you - came down with some form of sickness. The flu, strep throat, it seemed like you two had had it all. 

 But motion sickness was an entirely new one, which is what you chalked up your boyfriend’s symptoms to be. He wasn’t the best at traveling on moving things - but especially cars - so it was expected that he’d feel sick on a train that was going even faster than your average automobile. 

 “Baby- you don’t look so well…” You began in a quiet voice, reaching over in your seat to squeeze one of his knees. 

 Hyunjin was hunched over in his chair, both arms wrapped around his waist as the train’s movement rocked him back and forth - side to side. His eyes were screwed shut, and the tight lock that his jaw was in seemed downright painful. 

 He looked up at you then, eyes a little bloodshot and his face a pasty colour, “No- I’m fine. It’s just… motion sickness.” He said, trying to give you a reassuring smile. But it came out all wrong, seeming almost agonizing for him to conjure up. 

 “You know, if you want to get off at the next stop, we can,” you started, eyes tearing away from your boyfriend’s crumpled form and peering out the window. The cityscape was long gone and was instead replaced with fields upon fields of grassy farmland and small villages nestled beside towering mountains. “I’m sure you’re parents would understand if we’re a day late- we can find a hotel in a nearby town and-”

 “No.” Hyunjin ground out in a stern tone, making you whip your head around to stare at him as he frowned your way. “We’re not arriving late just because I- I have a weak stomach. I can make it- we only have…” With a glance at the small screen just underneath the window that continually flashed your arrival time, he nodded slowly. “An hour left.” 

 You shrugged slowly, offering him a tiny smile. “Okay, well if you’re sure you can make it in one piece.” 

 “I'm positive.” 

 When the silence lapsed between the two of you, you moved over to his chair, nestling into the corner beside him and grabbing onto one of his hands. It was warm and clammy to the touch as you squeezed your fingers between his. “I just don’t want you to push yourself too much, yeah? You’ve been going nonstop with the schedules since the new year.”

 Hyunjin gave you that look, the one that he always used when you were 'babying him too much.' Although he liked to play the role of being a soft and pliable man in Stray Kids, when he was alone with you, he was just the opposite. He hated when you doted on him too much because he always claimed that that was his job. Hence, why he always loathed getting sick in any way. 

 So your boyfriend leaned into your space and pressed a chaste kiss against your temple. “Don’t worry, darling. I’m gonna be fine.” 

 But it seemed like his body had a mind of its own because exactly as those words left his mouth, he was shooting up from his seat beside you.

 “What’s wrong?” You asked, concern laden in your voice as you watched him frantically clamp a palm over his mouth. His face was suddenly green-looking. 

 “B-Bathroom-” He only managed to say, before he was sliding the door to your seats open and ran down the hallway of the train. 

 Sucking in a deep breath, you shoved your head against the back of your seat and closed your eyes in exhaustion.

 Because it sure was going to be a long hour ahead. 

Much to your surprise, Hyunjin’s condition only worsened once you arrived at his parent’s house. He was nearly doubled over in misery by the time you guys landed on his childhood house’s doorstep, and the moment his mother caught sight of her sickened son, she was ushering the two of you in hastily.

 In no time at all, she had some chicken-and-rice porridge cooked and was serving it to the two of you. Hyunjin ate in silence, bent over the kitchen table, spooning up the thin soup in small bites. His mother was sitting with you guys as you ate, while his father was still out at work. 

 You frowned at Hyunjin before your gaze met his mother’s. “I told him we should’ve waited a day and stopped at a nearby hotel on the way in. But no- he just wanted to get here today.” 

 She chuckled softly at that, “That’s my Hyunjin… doesn’t want to be late to anything if he can help it. And besides, I’m glad you didn’t because I’m the best person to take care of him.” Her eyes - which were so similar to your boyfriend’s chestnut brown ones - flicked to him across the table. She offered him a gentle smile, cooing quietly in motherly admiration. “Isn’t that right, my little Jinnie? Your mama is the best at nursing you back to health.” 

 Hyunjin abruptly pushed his bowl of porridge away from him, eyes alight with a certain kind of fire as they darted between the two of you. “I-I feel sick again.” He said in a low, gravelly voice. He slumped over in his chair, seemingly too exhausted to hold up his head for another second. 

 And in tandem, both you and his mother were rising from your chairs. While you wrapped two arms around your boyfriend to hoist him up from his seat, his mother was busy clearing the table. 

 “Bring him into his bedroom- it’s just off to the left of the family room,” his mother instructed, quickly rinsing out the bowls of porridge in the sink. You nodded in silence, beginning to make the trek through the house to Hyunjin’s bedroom. 

 He leaned his entire weight against you, and it was a struggle to walk down the hall as you carried his lengthy body the whole way. Hyunjin groaned desperately, and you noticed the small beads of sweat beginning to race down his temples from his hairline. 

 Hyunjin was delirious with his discomfort, so once you got him situated on his bed, he all but curled up into the thick duvet coverlets, nuzzling his head into the downy pillows. His room was medium in size, and you noticed the small sleeping bag that was set up just beside his bed - where you supposed his parents expected you to sleep since there was no guest bedroom in the house. Still, they must’ve been very naive if they thought that you’d take the floor over sleeping in the same bed as your boyfriend. After all, the two of you had been living together for well over a year. 

 “That doesn’t look like motion sickness to me,” you heard his mother say in a quiet voice from behind you. You turned on your heels then, raising a skeptical eyebrow her way. And immediately, you could see the worry dawn across her face - by the way her jaw tightened slightly and her eyes darkened. “Motion sickness doesn’t last this long after getting on stable ground.” 

 You peered back at your boyfriend, who was now tossing and turning atop the bed. He was moaning lowly in his frenzy, eyes screwed shut, almost like opening them physically hurt him. And just seeing him that way - seeing the love of your life - so distraught, caused something anxious and pained to rattle deep inside of you. 

 “So what do you think it is, then?” 

 “If I had to guess- probably a stomach bug.” 

 You watched in silence, as Hyunjin’s mother strode over to the nearby window and flipped the shades closed. Then, she hovered over the nightstand that was just beside his bed and switched on the faint light there. It cast a warm glow across the walls of the room and painted Hyunjin’s writhing, ghostly-white form in a frail kind of way. 

 “Do you know what he ate before traveling today?” His mother asked as she was already pressing a palm against his forehead. His face was flushed with crimson, his cheeks rosy with sweat. 

 “I think it was one of those bento lunches- we picked some up at the local convenience store before leaving for the station.” 

 She gave a deep sigh then, shaking her head slowly. “That’ll do it… some of those pre-made lunches are notorious for being expired. I always warned him not to eat that crap.” 

 “He’ll be okay though, right?” You could feel the panic rising inside of you, speeding up your heart and forcing it to pound against your ribcage. Because you had never seen him like this - in such misery. Usually, whenever he was sick, it only lasted for a few days at most and was the common cold or on very rare occasion, the flu. But this? Flailing around the bed in distress? With skin colour close to that of a phantom? It was all something you’d never seen before from him.

 “Mhm- these stomach bugs usually only last a day or two, and he’s had them before. The best thing to do is to let him rest and continually monitor his condition,” his mother grabbed a blanket and gently tucked it around his form. “He’s running a fever, so we’ll probably have to stay up for most of the night to help him break it.” 

 You had been frozen near the doorway for so long since you didn’t know what to do. But finally, upon hearing her words, you were flitting over to Hyunjin’s side. You ran a few fingers through his silky black locks, noticing how warm he was. The heat seemed to radiate off of his entire body, prodding hopelessly at that anxiousness inside of you. 

 “I’ll go grab some cold cloths and water, so you just keep an eye on him, okay?” His mother bent over the bed then, giving one of your shoulders a delicate pat. You stared up at her with wide eyes, a lump starting to form in your throat at the sight of your boyfriend being in so much despair from a mere stomach bug. “He’s gonna be okay, sweetheart.” 

 Then, she was off to get the supplies and you were left to watch over your boyfriend. You scooted his body a little bit to the side and sat down on the bed next to him. The mattress was a full size, and could easily fit the two of you comfortably.

 You pressed a palm to one of his cheeks, sweeping a gentle thumb across his damp skin there. “It’ll be alright, babe… I’m right here…” You said in a whisper to him. But if you were being honest, the words were more for you than anything else. They helped to calm that racing part in your mind, and all at once, your focus honed in on one thing only - just taking care of your boyfriend and nursing him back to health as quickly as you could. 

 Hyunjin’s fever broke sometime in the middle of the night. You and his mother had been tirelessly working all night to help him combat the pain - what with all of the cold washcloths and helping him stumble to the bathroom every time he felt the urge to vomit. After a while, nothing came up in the toilet bowl. Even still, it was like his stomach hated him, and just wanted to try and toss out every last ounce of liquid he had left inside of his body. As a result, you and his mother decided to refrain from giving him any liquid until the vomiting completely stopped. 

 After the clock struck one a.m., you assured his mother that you could handle him for the rest of the night. And after convincing her despite her many protests, she finally made her way to bed. You didn’t want to admit that you were exhausted yourself, but you knew that he needed you at that moment. Even if he wasn’t self-aware enough to know who was helping him through the hurt. 

 But with the break of the fever, also came the clearing of his head. And suddenly, your boyfriend was wide awake at three in the morning. He was still weak in the limbs, so he abated your wishes to stay in bed until at least seven.

 “Thank you, darling,” he whispered to you late that night. You had turned off the room’s single light, leaving you in complete darkness save for the faint glow of the street lamp that shined through the window’s curtains. “You’ve taken such good care of me.” 

 You gave him a faint smile, even though he couldn’t see it in the dim of the bedroom. “Yeah- of course, I’m always gonna take care of you, Jinnie. Even if I’m on my fucking deathbed, I’ll be nursing you back to health if that’s what you need.” 

 He let out a faint chuckle at that before he was shifting on the bed and nearing you. After his mother had finally left, you had decided to curl up next to your boyfriend for the remainder of the night. Because to hell with that stupid sleeping bag.  

“You sleepy, baby?” Hyunjin mused. You felt his nimble fingers reach up toward your face and tuck a few strands of your messy hair behind one of your ears. 

 “Y-Yeah…” You mumbled, voice growing faint as the shadows around you began to slowly soothe you to sleep. The sound of Hyunjin’s steady breathing right next to you, and the feel of his fingers brushing through your locks, helped usher you further into the twilight of slumber.

 “You can sleep now, lovely, it’s okay.” 

 “B-But I wanna be awake in case you-”

 He grunted out a laugh at that, “Don’t worry about me, I’m fine now.” 

 “Still, I promised your mom that I’d nurse you completely back to health.” 

 The plush mattress dipped underneath you then, and suddenly, you felt warm lips land against your forehead. Pressing a whispery kiss to the skin there, Hyunjin moved ever so slightly, so that his lips were ghosting over the shell of your ear. “And what if I said that just laying beside you like this has already nursed me back to full health?” 

 You cracked your eyes open, trying to find his eyes in the swarthiness of the room. Instead, you were met with an ink splotch of a face and the distinct outline of a proud shoulder. 

 “I still don’t w-want to…” you began, but you could feel yourself nodding off - your eyes grew heavy and drooped low, mouth parting slightly in a deep sigh. 

 “I swear to fuck- if you don’t go to sleep this instant, I’m really gonna lose it. And not in the stomach-bug kind of way.” Hyunjin said, his voice a little sterner this time than before. 

 That got you giggling, as you tried to keep your voice down so that you didn’t wake his parents that were just across the hallway. “Okay, okay- I’ll go to sleep.” 

 “That’s my girl.” 

 And at that moment, you thanked the stars above that the bedroom was too dark for either of you to see anything - else, Hyunjin would start teasing you about the furious blush that crept up your neck and pooled in the tips of your ears and cheeks at his words alone. 

 Because yes, you were his girl. 

 And you always loved it when he made a point of that. 

 “Goodnight, my Jinnie…” Your voice trailed off, as you finally allowed yourself to relax down into the thick duvet that was all around you, muscles nearly melting into dreamland. 

 One of Hyunjin's long arms wrapped around your waist then, and he pulled you close to him, burying your face into his warm chest. “Night, my beautiful, magnificent girl."

Fin.

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© ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

[mania-sama]

It's been a while since i've done a song analysis, so I'm going to come back into it with That's So True and how it is so incredibly KevJean core at the time that Kevin fled Edgar Allen and Evermore/the Nest that I HAVE to write it. This song has been haunting my nightmares and playing on repeat in my car. All I can think about is them when I hear it and scream the lyrics.

"I could go and read your mind / Think about your dumb face all the time / Looking into your big blue eyes / Did it just to hurt me, make me cry." -> Jean knew Kevin was different from Riko since the get-go. Riko thrived in the Nest. While Kevin was good, Kevin also had aspirations and dreams that tried to take flight from the cage it was trapped in. A history degree, in spite of the required business degree, for one. Jean was pulled in by Kevin's inherent charisma, his beautiful face, and it was what hurt him. We see in his point of view how badly he regrets letting himself get close to Kevin, letting himself trust him, even into his Trojan arc. We see how much that hurt, when Kevin left. How not only did Kevin leave Jean, but also revealed their secret that Kevin made between them. At the time, Jean could only think that Kevin did it just to hurt him, to send him through the deepest layers of Hell even though Jean had already thought he was in it.

"Smiling through it all, yeah, that's my life." -> Not only does this fit Jean, but it fits Kevin as well. Both of them were being observed all of the time. Jean couldn't show his hurt to the rest of the team, but Kevin? Kevin was hiding everything from the cameras constantly pointed at him. Even when he fled the Nest and took refuge with the foxes, he pretended as though his hand was mangled in a skiing accident until the last book. They put on their brave faces and smiled. Only, Kevin's been doing it as long as he's been alive. While this analysis is mainly about Jean, I want to point out where it fits Kevin like a glove, too. Smiling through it, or, at least, not showing the dead weight of their lame legs has been their character arcs throughout the books.

"Bet you're thinking, "She's so cool" / Kicking back on your couch, making eyes from across the room / Wait, I think I've been there too / What'd she do to get you off? / Taking down her hair like, oh my God / Taking off your shirt, I did that once or twice." -> Then there is that lick of jealousy. Rather than thinking this is about Kevin's canonical girlfriend, Thea, I think that this is in relation to the Foxes themselves. Kevin no longer cares for Jean or the Ravens anymore, supposedly. He cares for the Foxes now. And perhaps the Foxes are enamored with Kevin like Jean was before Kevin betrayed him and slit his throat. He's wondering what they have that he doesn't, even though it's petty and stupid and wrong, since he knows exactly why Kevin left and exactly why Jean will never be enough for him. He wonders if they are playing and talking and passing to him like Jean once did, doing all the same things, and he goes through the agonizing cycle over and over again until it's too much to bear.

"No, I know and I'll fuck off / But I think I like her, she's so fun / Wait I think I hate her / I'm not that evolved." -> Jealousy and hatred go hand and hand. I don't think he's ever liked or been impressed with the Foxes to begin with. And now? Now it's even worse, because he has to battle with the fact that Kevin chose them and not the best Exy team in the United States. He chose the one that's dead last. Surely there has to be a redeeming quality? Jean pours over them, absorbing ever single play, trying to see in them what Kevin apparently sees, and comes away with nothing but confusion and hatred.

"You've got me thinking she's so cool / But I know what I know and you're just another dude / That's so true." -> And in the end, when all is said and done, he has to contend with the fact that Kevin is just some pretty boy he fell for. That is all there really is to it, for him. He got hurt by just another boy. The Foxes don't have to be anything special. Jean doesn't have to be anything special, because Kevin is just Kevin in his personal life. To the Exy world, he may be a star. But to Jean, Kevin is another boy. Another man that hurt him (even if it is not that simple).

"Made it out alive, but I think I lost it / Said that I was fine, said it from my coffin / Remember how I died, when you started walking? / That's my life, that's my life." -> He made it out of Riko's punishment physically alive, that much is true. But this is what is going through his head when Kevin pops up on the television screen, his announcement of his transfer to the Palmetto State Foxes blaring in the Nest and in the halls of Edgar Allen University. He is screaming to himself that he told himself it was fine for all of these years, that it is fine that Kevin left and slit his throat on the way out, but it's not. He lost a part of himself back when Kevin's hand was broken. Kevin walked out, and he sliced Jean open on the way. He left Jean for dead, even though the Nest is his life. It's the only place he can be, and Kevin knows that. He knows that Jean isn't like the other players, and yet. And yet. That was his life, and Kevin did his goddamn best to ruin it, in Jean's mind. And I can imagine this was all coming back to him when he was locked away with the Foxes after Renee saved him. When Kevin comes around to visit, it's all rushing back to him in a tipsy, pain-hazed blur, of the day Kevin walked and ruined Jean's entire fragile paradise with him.

"I'll put up a fight, taking out my earrings / Don't you know the vibe, don't you know the feeling?" -> I like to think that this is part of Kevin's response to Jean. Because Kevin knows very well how Jean feels. He knows that what he did hurt Jean, and he knows that Jean will never truly forgive him for doing something Kevin had to do. Jean's fight had left him. He gave up resisting because it only made his life worse than it already was. Kevin, not so much. Riko mangled his hand, and Kevin put up the fight of his life to leave. He got a backbone and left. He took out his earrings and left behind the place that was damaging. Don't you know the vibe? The feeling? Kevin begs, asking Jean to understand what the calling of a better place looks like. How Penn States and the Foxes called to him so he could finally be free. Because surely Jean has heard it before; they both have. Kevin just stopped ignoring it.

"You should spend the night / Catch me on your ceiling / That's your prize, that's your prize." -> And this is Jean’s final response to Kevin. That Kevin still left and still slit his throat on the way out. Kevin escaped, but at what cost to Jean? Perhaps there is that small, bitter part of him that wants Kevin to lay awake at night and remember just how badly he wronged Jean. Bitterness gets you nowhere, but Jean isn't going anywhere anyway.

[vinnoa-articles]

[Image by Eiichiro Oda]

Habit Substitute Drabble Series! This will be final out of the 8 drabbles I will be writing, I am sorry for being so inactive.

Here are the links for the others.

[Luffy] [Zoro] [Usopp] [Sanji] [Law] [Smoker] [Crocodile] [Do Flamingo]

Rating: Everyone

Word count: 888

Type: Flirting, threats

Characters: Do Flamingo, reader

Trigger warnings/content: Some threatening words, mentions of death

A groan. A long agonizing groan emanated from his lips. So sharp, and yet heavy that his silence was emanating his scary aura within the walls of his palace. The newspaper was crinkled within his talon grasp. There was anger, excitement and yet…

“Sir?”

“Hm…?” The hum drawl came out from that slender neck. Legs crossed, left hand cupping his jaw, he looked like a statue. “What is it?” Though his eyebrows were not there, his glasses moved a tinge, hinting his curiosity. “Speak.”

“I-” The newspaper cutting off what you were going to say, nothing could prepare you from him throwing down the papers, now hovering above you with his 10-foot frame. Your muscles felt like jelly, in comparison to his taut muscles that nearly popped out of his clothes, hidden under his big pink feather cape.

“I thought I told you to speak.”

“Well, sir…with the rate you are killing your subordinates…” That killer smile crept up, fully presented on his chiseled face. You swallow the excessive spit forming in your mouth, yet your tongue feels dry. Maybe it was because of how intrigued with what you had to say about his methods, yet he felt like his face was getting closer. That was until his nose touched yours.

“Hm…but it's a little fun, no? They deem no purpose for me, and who knows…maybe you will be next.” There was that lack of presence of his nose touching yours, you couldn’t move, your throat was on fire, yet there was something alluring about his energy. It’s why you served under him, and next to his side on his throne. “So…go on.”

“Oh! R-right,” you want to look away from this man, yet you couldn’t, it would mean weakness, and Do Flamingo does NOT like weak humans, creatures, things. “With killing your subordinates, you won’t have enough members in your group to assist you with future plans sir. I suggest-”

“Suggest what?” The glint of his red sunglasses sparkled into your eyes. “That I slaughter them differently?” Footsteps are now circling you, a hawk ready to devour his pray. Tongue hanging out of his pointed lips, breathing softly despite his shadow enveloping you as he walked behind you.

“A muse”

“What?” The dust scattering around the feet of both of you, was the only whisper you could hear. Though no one else would suggest it, you were nearly next in command. This was it, you were going to die as you stood beneath him. “Would you care to…repeat that?”

“A muse…sir,” the words struggle to come out of your throat, nearly gagging on the words from the sheer thought of death. You hang your head to see the remaining blood stains from those who stood in the exact spot, whether it be knelt down or standing, it doesn’t matter. It was the end of you, at least it would make sense. “Someone who can take your mind off killing, and focusing it on something else.” He hummed at your explanation, a small glimmer of hope was getting crushed by the thickening air.

“Now, what would I do with this…supposed muse?” Do Flamingo’s padded palms gripped your shoulder, further heightening your fear. One false twitch, one shaky breath and he will know. “Could it be anyone of my choosing?”

“Yes sir.” The presence of his hand finally lifted, along with despair.

“So if I were to choose a muse, what would you do?”

“I would just give you and the muse time, sir.” He slowly walked back to his rock throne, sitting right back to his nonchalant form. Lounging around as if his intimidation session never happened. “It can anyone within your group, or from the city-”

“Then I will pick you.” Shock was the only thing you felt, you looked up to meet his sunglasses. His figure didn’t look as big, maybe more like a smaller version of himself. “You got a problem with that?” Stumbling, kneeling in front of him, you wanted to know just one thing…

“Doffy-, I mean sir, why?”

His laughter erupted, crackling into your ears, it was near deafening. Your chin, clasped between his pointer finger and thumb, he watched your every movement.

“You are the only person who I can tolerate that nickname, and have the sheer balls to bring up such a stupid idea.”

“Sir-”

“So if I wish to kill someone, instead, what should I do to you? Hm?”

“Anything to take your mind off,” a near whisper as you try to speak to him calmly. Your heart was racing, and you knew he could feel it between his finger tips.

“Then, maybe a kiss?”

“Sir, you do not have to-”

“Only if that is alright, I do have standards, you know.” His voice was calming, Do Flamingo was a huge savage, but it surprised you that this murderous and cold man had some restraint. Maybe he had a heart after all, deep down in his ruffled feathers.

“Then, sir, I would be honored-” As his face dips in just to kiss you, he lets go, backing up again, nearly teasing you and edging your want for contact. What was this? This wasn’t the Do Flamingo you knew now. “Sir?”

“What? Just because you are my muse, doesn’t mean you can’t work for it now, does it?”

[kingsandbastardz]

Writing Patterns

Thank you to @mx-myth!

This is supposed to be first sentence of my last 10 AO3 works.

But I'm modifying like... everything lol - I play with format with my writing and one thing I definitely do a lot is quote lines from the canon, so I'm going to be putting first few sentences/paragraph/sequence to work past those and for consistency. And like @mx-myth I'll also be adding a few last sentences for the few published works I have, just for fun. I'm including wips because I don't have a large body work. For WIP it'll be first sentence only. lmao is this the same tag challenge at all?

01. SAMSARA ( wip - Mysterious Lotus Casebook: FangDi - with past DiHuaDi - transmigration rebirth modern AU with a deeply traumatized actor Di Feisheng trying to both rescue this world's version of LLH while also running away from him and FDB with all his might.)

Imagine this: you live, you kill, you lick dirt from the shoes of your masters. You fail to die so many times you begin to wonder if you're immortal.

02. everything looks small - we gave up on those happy endings (wip MLC - This is the story I've been torturing myself with the past 2 months: Trio + Wuyan and a random Hulijing)

"Do you not remember me at all? Does the name Di Feisheng mean anything to you?" Li Lianhua smiles as he gathers his winnings. "Of course I remember you. You're my kind and rich friend." But that can't be right, Fang Duobing thinks as Li Lianhua tells him about his recently made acquaintance over dinner, his sightless eyes shining with a familiar brightness - just for a moment. That can't be right, because Di Feisheng has been missing for months.

03. 囍 Marriage (wip MLC - There are a lot of dead brides and ruined marriages in this series so I'm continuing the tradition. fanghua with possible difanghua and difanghuajlq. Sorta.)

He wakes choking, clawing free from the ropes binding his wrists to press trembling fingers to agonized lips that are sewn shut with some kind of fine thread. There is a golden ingot trapped behind his teeth, stretching his jaw open against strained stitching. He chokes as he struggles to breathe through his nose and the lump of metal presses against the back of his tongue to slip further against his throat. He's terrified the blackness means he's also been blinded.

04. flight is something done willfully (wip MLC - fangdi, immediately post-canon - something something about having to finally deal with fdb's trauma surrounding loss and abandonment and dfs having a fuckton of patience in dealing with fdb's prolonged panic attack that mobilizes a small militias, the Minister of the Treasury, and sigu sect leadership)

You made the mistake of thinking words would finally be acceptable. After all, you are now free. A potential cure for poison has been handed over. All is well.   You can relax and open your mouth and actually let real words come out. But the thing is, your tacit understanding only lasts as long as neither of you try to actually communicate.

05. The Universe of Us : When you lose a person, a whole universe goes along with them (wip MLC - timeloop and a battle between opposing spirits)

When Fang Duobing and Di Feisheng meet again, it is at the same time, on the same beach where they find nothing but the ocean, a pile of fermenting seaweed and their own memories. They are like strangers absorbed in their own grief. It's no matter. To Di Feisheng, they met because of Li Lianhua, so it’s fitting that they are both strangers now without him.

06. 羽化成蝶 Metamorphosis (DFS' core is untouchable - idk where I'm going with this but the main concept is internal vs external form)

A familiar dao thumps onto the table as a handsomely dressed giantess seats herself across from Li Xiangyi. "I have the list," she says with no introduction. Her voice is low and fuzzy, like someone who's spent a lifetime with a pipe in hand and smoke in her lungs - it wasn't unpleasant. "Di-mengzhu," Li Xiangyi greets politely as he pours her tea. A faint wildness in his eyes is his only acknowledgement that he is facing something unexpected.

07. Pear Blossoms In Spring ( wip - Mysterious Lotus Casebook: FangDi - meant to be a silly romance but turned into a comedy about a shaoye who keeps comparing the love of his life to his favorite dead horse)

“Ah, this is the Iron Head Slave. Remember?” says Li Lianhua the Lying Liar gesturing to the tall, leggy beauty blocking their path. “His name is a-Fei.”

08. the moon is as bright as it was before (my first finished and posted fic in many years and it's an experimental thought piece for Mysterious Lotus Casebook)

the existence of a torture chamber beside the wedding bedroom and its contents shouldn’t be a surprise at this point. and yet… it’s the redundancy you find offensive. she has a multi-chamber dungeon. she has a water chamber in her own quarters. why must it extend here as well?

under the moon’s blessing, you smile back and for the first time in your life, you hope for the future.

09. I, Augustus (Tour Of the Merrimack - gay space roman that can't decide whether he wants to kill or fuck an american and which is worse? who knows)

It was sound that went first. Eardrums deadened, he careened off the bridge, chest so full of metal he'd lost count how many times he'd been shot. He could see the flash-bang of incendiary rounds as they were fired from both his fellow 300 and the advancing Americans, the light momentarily coloring roiling black smoke with flashes of pink and yellow.

He dreams instead of possibility, of new worlds and unmappable futures, their patterns varied and far reaching as the ever expanding universe.

10. An Affair to Remember: The Commissar and His Snake (Warhammer 40k fandom - A Guant's Ghosts story in the style of Ciaphas Cain)

opening

INQUISITORIAL DOSSIER: IIIX:4SE:A3ASF3S:XXX COMPILED BY INTERROGATOR ANTONIUS WONG CHAU-SANG UNDER THE AUSPICES OF INQUISITOR MABODABU, ORDO XENOS INQUISITORIAL DATA-LIBRARY DATE: 999.M41 FILE START// Editorial note: I am sure that most who read this are already familiar with the work of the esteemed Inquisitor Amberley Vail who compiled her eye-opening series based upon the famed Commissar Cain's private memoirs.

ending

“Come along then,” I said as I began to walk. I lengthened my stride. My legs are, after all, longer.43 I felt Elim follow, his dark presence hesitating only a moment before he was half a step behind me, where he should be, sure and certain as any shadow. 43 I can only assume Colonel-Commissar Gaunt deliberately lengthened his stride to make it more difficult for the Major to keep up. This would be an ongoing theme in their relationship for many years to come.

Patterns:

For openings, whether it's with concept or actions/visual, I tend to drop the reader straight into the middle of a situation as a hook and then dial it backwards.

I favor punchy openings.

also like I said earlier, I like to quote or recreate a scene from the canon to quickly establish tone and position in the story

of the 3 endings I have here, all of them tend to be like the ending of a jdrama where it fades off toward a "and life goes on" vibe, rather than something stronger like "and then this happened". I don't forsee this changing much in the future. I tend to fade away by the time i reach an ending so either it's super abrupt or the wheel of life continues turning~~~

Tagging all writers and anyone else who wants to do this!

@the-wintry-mizzenmast @momosandlemonsoda @thesilversun @randomingoftherandomness @eirenical @difeisheng @busarewski @bbcphile

[remyfire]

20 Questions For Fic Writers

I was tagged by @quordleona03! Thank you so much for the tag I know lots of people have already been tagged, so consider this a formal request that if you have NOT been tagged, you please come play! But off the top of my head, @onekisstotakewithme @cuddleswinchester @dreamingofspring :D

How many works do you have on Ao3?

40.

2. What's your total Ao3 word count?

I think we might officially be leaving 2023 with 300,842 words. Not a bad count for only publishing since April! That's a novella a month right there.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

MASH. :D

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Scratching The Itch, Can't Take My Eyes Off You, To Have and To Hold, Anything You Say Can and Will Be Held Against You, and Tear Out All Your Tenderness. Good morning beejhawk nation I see you all hkdfds

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try to! Sometimes they pile up and I get overwhelmed and just click that "Mark All As Read" button while hiding behind my hand. But I really try to circle through nowadays even just for a "Thanks for reading!!" because I really appreciate every single one!!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I feel like ...With Too Many Miles Between Us was a pretty rough one. There's maybe optimism that you can read through the cracks, but it was a damn agonizing prompt fill (affectionate) all around. The Good Ones Always Seem to Break is another. Sorry that I keep putting you in situations, Beej.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Oughhhh, just about anything that suggests they don't end here, so to speak. I think To Have and To Hold probably tops the list, but I Intend to Hold You For the Longest Time and Soft Place to Land also come in hot just by nature of being established postwar situations.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not yet! I've had a couple of people not understand what I was going for and who were not afraid of saying so, but it wasn't outright hate. They were probably just not the intended audience.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Ahh yes. 65% of my current fics are rated E for a reason, and the 5 M ones are flirting with that line.

I categorize myself as an erotic romance writer, meaning that typically if you remove my sex scenes from my fics, you are losing integral information or character/relationship development that would otherwise make the fic not stand on its own. I also have a handful that are just pure erotica—sex for titillation's sake rather than development. I adore writing smut!! It's a lot of fun, it's exciting when you know you've landed it exactly like you wanted to, and it's a way for me to reclaim all those years I spent being forcibly repressed due to my religious upbringing. I love every minute of it.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I do not!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I know of.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

The Famous 4077 Dog Tag Party certainly counts! Many of us authors randomized a list of pairings for both eras of the show, and then we were responsible for picking a pairing, writing the characters going on a date (platonic or romantic), and seeing what happened. Extremely fun way to get some rare pairs we might not have expected. For example, I got to write Margie/Klinger for it!

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Hey now I am too fucking polyam to answer this and you know it. Mcpunnihawk probably tops the list, warring with margbeej and sidbeejhawk.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I am not taking this defeatist energy into 2024, how dare you. One day, my pretties, I'm coming back for all of you and we are crossing that finish line OR ELSE.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Smut, capturing character voices accurately, physicality, spinning relational scenarios on the fly.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Genres like mystery or sci-fi or horror, repetition of comfort words/phrases, putting my characters through significant levels of pain (I am too empathetic, I can and will cry over my own fics).

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Things that I do not feel comfortable doing myself because I am not familiar enough with any other language to know I'm doing it accurately.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

The kid wizard one.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

How dare you make me pick from my children. Scratching The Itch, Anything You Say Can and Will Be Held Against You, I'd Give Up Forever to Touch You, and Desperate Times Call for Desperate Measures. Notably this could all change by this time tomorrow. I'm very fond of my fics.

[kaizsche]

You are such an incredible writer, but you’re also an amazing gif maker! So, what’s your favourite gif set that you’ve made this year? Also, what is the fic that you’re most excited to write in the new year? Thanks for being such an incredible friend Kai 🥰

(literally me seeing your ask and am i copying q's answer to her own ask? the answer is yaaaaaaaaas.)

i don't really see myself as an AMAZING gif maker and an INCREDIBLE writer so to hear all these compliments from you is just straight up melting my goddamn heart vis. *teary-eyed emoji cos im in pc*

so to ask your... well... ask, i haven't been kind of productive this year, both in writing and editing stuff so i can't say i have a wide selection to choose from, but here's my ultimate fav gifset. like fr.

which predictably is a gifset from your fic which i've gotten so much interaction on and just having you message me about this was just... it honestly made me cry so yeah...

the freaking 'i know you have a lot of fic planned this year' just cracked me tf up. like... you and q know i go all ramble kai on anything resembling my fic ideas so you know what i already have in store next year...

first off, i am sooo excited to finally enter the spuffy writing fandom so there's that. i already have like 20+ spuffy wips in my docs rn but the most excited i am for next year are these two, i think: (and i'll be letting y'all take a lil peek of them)

sun and moon

“Who are you?” The Slayer demanded. Buffy could hear the restless fear simulating his heart and the cautious steps he took to back away from her. Smart Slayer. So he has honed his skills then? Knew she was different from the other vampires he dealt around the small town. Buffy grinned wickedly. It’ll be fun to dance with this one. “I kill your kind for sport, Slayer.” She let her words stew in the air, watched him put the pieces together—inch by agonizing inch.

spuffy dark fic (warning has possible incest!)

Joyce's heart stopped completely. Because standing at the door, a boy, her son she hadn't seen in years stood before her. Joyce had wanted to believe he changed—hair longer and tied at the back of his neck, still dressed in his boarding school's uniform but a few sizes bigger than she had first seen him—it was his eyes that gave him away.  It was cold and unfeeling. He regarded her as if she wasn't his mother, as if she was nothing to him at all. "Joyce."  "William—" She watched his gaze snap over her shoulder and at once, the piercing cold melted into warm fondness as did the trembling tension in his body. "Hello, cutie." "Will!"  Buffy barrelled past her, leaping in his arms and she wasn't afraid, she trusted him to catch her. William staggered a few feet back from the impact, wrapping one arm across her waist and the other held her bottom to prevent her from falling. "You're here. You're really here."  William held Joyce's gaze, a muscle in his jaw twitching as if to dare her to scold him—to remove him once more out of his Buffy's life.  "Never gonna happen, love. I'll be here forever. I promise."  Buffy sighed happily, enjoying the feel of his warmth, his hands on her. Joyce sighed in resignation, turning away from the challenge in his eyes.  "It's cold outside. Come in." At this, William grinned. "Thanks, mum."

last but not least, how could i forget tvd?

take my breath rewrite (kolena + klena) i mean how can i ever resist kolena theyre like my main otp. i go batshit crazy for them.

Elena gravitates towards the lake, stares at her reflection in the water. Hates her face and her blood more than she realizes. She loved her face and her body once upon a time. Now, all it ever does is haunt her every step and shadow surrounded by men who knew every crevice of her body. They knew her better than she ever did. (It is the face that launched a thousand year curse, damning the girls that carried it. Reduced to nothing but objects in a man’s eyes. Katherine was right. I am always right. She hears her taunting giggle and sees her twin’s knowing smirk. I told you so. Nothing could ever bring more joy to her evil doppelganger than proving that she was right.)

kolena roommates au (this was actually inspired by a spuffy fic i read LOL)

"Okay, 20 questions." "Go." "Who's your favorite?" "Favorite who?" Kol groaned. "Favorite Mikaelson sibling," and looked at her bashfully, like he was expecting her to… say his name? "Rebekah." He yelled out an indignant cry, "What a load of bollocks! You're telling me, after everything we've been through, I'm still—" "You are a favorite," She cut him off.  "Really?" He gaped at her, astonished.  "My least favorite." She bit hard on her tongue, seeing the sheer disappointment and anguish encroaching on his face. And somehow, his voice had gotten louder, belting out at a higher register than Mariah Carey. "I rank lower than even bloody Niklaus?!"

i do hope to be as productive as i was in 2022 when it comes to publishing fics cause i'll really wither and die if i don't manage to publish these four.

special fic mentions:

the song of wandering aengus

banish air from air

only, helen (tentative title)

and from your lips she drew the hallelujah

& special user mentions for just being there for me (listening, suggesting, reading) when i was going batshit crazy over my fic ideas. you're all wonderful ppl and i'm glad to have you in my life <3

@katherineholmes @qvnthesia @finnismyoriginalsin

thank you so much for this ask, vis <3 love ya 5ever

[beansterpie]

choose violence: 3, 7, 12, 21

Hehehe thanks for the ask Moth! <3

3. screenshot or description of the worst take you've seen on tumblr

Don't have any screenshots, but the main one coming to me right now is the take I've seen before about how Casca's long hair during her time as 'Elaine' was a good thing because she was 'getting in touch with her feminine side', and her cutting off her hair after regaining her mind was bad actually. Rather than acknowledging that her hair had grown long because she literally wasn't capable of maintaining her own appearnace?? It's just. Such a baffling ass take lol, where to even begin.

7. what character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how how the fandom acts about them?

Oh damn, lemme think. I have a few characters where I started to like them MORE because of how shitty fandom is towards them for no reason, but not many the other way around... Ok so this isn't a character but g*tsca lol. I never really shipped it, but I understand it's place in the story and there are even elements about it I find intriguing, and occassionally, sweet. But the fandom is so gd annoying about it lol that it's genuinely soured me on the ship.

12. the unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them

I feel like Griffith is too obvious, and so is Jin Guangyao lol. Hmmm I guess I'll write about Agon because why not!

Ok so. Agon is different from the other two in the sense that both Griffith and Jin Guangyao are characters that are morally grey that I feel are often deeply misunderstood by a lot of audiences. Or audiences just like, miss the point of their characters lol. Agon, on the other hand, is a grade A asshole and he was intedended to be a grade A asshole lol. He is a total douchebag genius who was made to be an Ultimate Bad Guy™ (within the context of a sports manga lmfao).

That being said. I JUST THINK HE'S FUN OK. He's such an over the top douchebag that his shittiness comes back around to being entertaining, and then it's extra satisfying when he eats shit. Plus there's enough in canon regarding his relationship with Hiruma (and also to Unsui in different ways tbh) to imply that there's a lot more going on beneath the surface that he's too pigheaded to admit, and that's just plain fun to explore in a fandom context. ALSO he's just fun to bully! I love a character who is presented as extremely powerful in most ways where I can gleefully take them down several pegs lol. He's like a beloved chew toy <3

21. part of canon you think is overhyped

Hmmmm... For Berserk, I guess...? The rpg-group onwards? I mean idk, I feel like the GA gets the most hype in Berserk, but for good reason imo, it's easily my favorite bit too. I guess I could say the fights, but ngl I love a lot of the fights (though some of them drag on too long imo). But I've also seen a decent number of people saying that they love the rpg group, and I. Disagree. Lmfao. Well like, I don't hate the general premise, but I don't love the shift to more stereotypical high-fantasy vibes during the fantasia arc, and I find a lot of the characters in the rpg group are either totally extraneous at worst (Isma, Ivalera, Magnifico, Azan), or like, have a lot of wasted potential (Schierke, Isidro, even Farnese and Serpico to an extent).

[choose violence]